Addams Family Book 02 Ch 01

The Addams Family 1977 - Book 2

A Love Story

Note from the author:

The Addams Family has evolved over the years from its original Charles Addams cartoons to the later live TV shows, animations and movies. The characters in my story are based on The Addams Family television program which originally aired on broadcast television for only two seasons in the mid 1960s. I wrote with this specific cast of characters in mind, if for no other reason, because, each of the actors added just a bit of themselves to their perspective roles. Another reason would be because, thanks to the deep, resonant voice of the actor Ted Cassidy, Lurch, the family's seven foot butler was bequeathed the gift of speech.

This story begins about the time of the not so memorable Made for TV movie starring the original television series cast in 1977,

Halloween with the Addams Family

, roughly eleven or twelve years after the final TV episode.

Please note:

everyone

is over the age of eighteen.

Warning: there is

no

sexual content in this portion of the story.

(That stuff happens much, much later.)

Wednesday Addams stood near the shuttered window of her second floor bedroom and brushed her long black hair. Through a gap in the shutter, she watched as below, one by one, her entire family; Mother, Father, Grandmamá and Uncle Fester filed out of the front door and shuffled in a slow steady procession, headlong into the dazzling sunshine. Bringing up the rear of the plodding parade was Pugsley, having arrived home just the day before from Africa where he had been studying the medical arts under the tutelage of their family physician Dr Mbogo. From her vantage point, Wednesday could not see their faces, but their body language was easy enough to read. Each member of her family was leaving the cool, dank interior of the mansion only under extreme duress. They moved forward slowly, haltingly, in the direction of the waiting limousine, their heads bowed in utter submission, and with all of the enthusiasm displayed by condemned prisoners plodding steadily toward the gallows and toward their inevitable demise.

As miserable as they appeared, in her own way, Wednesday envied them. Her family might feel beleaguered, having been browbeaten into abandoning the dark and gloomy shelter of their Second Empire mansion only to venture out into this inclement weather, but Wednesday was facing something far more frightening than sunshine. After tomorrow her family's ordeal would be over. Unless Wednesday found some way out of her current dilemma, tomorrow hers would be just beginning.

The limousine, its polished black paint gleaming in the sunlight, belonged to

Conde

Adalberto Addams, a Castilian count who also happened to be Wednesday's third cousin. Many years ago a rift developed between Adalberto's father and Wednesday's Grandpapá. The two halves of the family never spoke again until the day Adalberto and his parents came to Wednesday's parents with the proposal of a wedding to reunite the two halves.

Wednesday exhaled, forcing her tense muscles to relax. It felt as if she had been holding her breath from the moment Cousin Adalberto and his mother arrived and began making arrangements for her wedding.

Her wedding!

And to think, only four day ago Wednesday had been blissfully ignorant of the disaster which was about to enter her life. She had been so blissfully content just to be home with Mother and Father. Home from the music academy. Living in the old house where she had grown up, sleeping in her old bedroom … and seeing

him

on a daily basis. Every day and every night during the time she had spent at the music academy, Wednesday had dreamt of the day she could be near

him

again. No, not Cousin Adalberto …

him

!

However, her joyful homecoming had been short lived. Suddenly Wednesday was caught up in this wedding fiasco. A fiasco from which she hardly knew how to extract herself. She was an intelligent woman. She knew she could find a solution, a way out. What she needed was some time to think, but in the past few days she barely had time to breathe, let alone sit down and figure a way out of this arranged marriage.

The easiest way would be to kill Adalberto. But there was the dilemma, Wednesday had no desire to kill him - after all he

was

family. That's not to say she was ready to rule out murder completely … but only as a last resort. Unlike many other people who might richly deserve to meet with an untimely death, Wednesday took no pleasure in the thought of Adalberto's ultimate demise. He seemed like a pleasant enough man. Besides killing was not something Wednesday took any real pleasure in. No, she didn't want to murder Adalberto. She did not wish the man any harm at all. She just didn't want to marry him.

Tomorrow was to be Wednesday's wedding day. Wednesday was betrothed to marry a man … a man other than

him

, and,

by the goddess,

something had to be done about it. And soon. Tomorrow was approaching rapidly.

Wednesday Addams had been no more than ten when her parents, and his, made arrangements that she and Adalberto should marry when she reached the age of twenty. As of today she was, a mere two short weeks shy of that auspicious twentieth birthday, and, two weeks early he marches back into her life, wedding band in hand, expecting Wednesday to be his bride. Willingly. Happily?

The situation was most perplexing. What could Mother and Father have been thinking ten years ago to betroth their preadolescent daughter to a grown man? A man … a cousin whom she basically knew nothing of

!?

Had they truly been so desperate to mend the rift in the family that they were willing to sacrifice their only daughter's future in order to do so? After all, Mother and Father had been lucky enough to marry for love. Shouldn't she be given the same opportunity? Other than that one time when the betrothal had taken place and the papers had been signed, Wednesday and Adalberto had never seen one another before or since. Wednesday remembered thinking her dark haired, olive skinned cousin was 'kind of cute'. Well, as cute as an 'older' man of

twenty

could be in the eyes of a ten-year-old child. Needless to say that child had absolutely no concept then of what the word

compromiso

actually meant. Looking back now it seemed likely that the betrothal had been schemed up by Adalberto's Mamá, though what her ultimate motive was, Wednesday could not begin to guess.

Arranged marriages (often between family members) had been an Addams family tradition dating back into the very beginnings of the family. Wednesday could only wish that this archaic practice had been bypassed in the modern era. Even Wednesday searched for a means to extract herself from the impending nuptials, she consoled herself with the thought that, in modern times, the family no longer married brother to sister as they had so often in the past. After all, this was not the dark ages

!

It was the '70s

!

But intermarriage over the eons went a long way toward explaining many of the peculiarities that existed within members of the Addams family. Peculiarities which much of the family looked upon as perfectly normal. Minor peculiarities such as the sixth toe on Wednesday's left foot. Or more significant ones such as … Cousin Itt.

If Wednesday thought that being forced to marry her third cousin was bad, she could at least console herself with the thought that this was a more modern time and a more modern country in which she lived. Back in old Castile an Addams brother and sister actually married each another. They subsequently became Wednesday's Great-Grandfather and Great-Grandmother Squint. ('Squint' was a nickname which the Addams twins had acquired in childhood, and never outgrew.) Wednesday had an excellent imagination but she certainly did

not

wish to imagine being forced to marry her own brother, or being expected to have sex with him on a regular basis, and bearing his children

!

Sleeping with Pugsley?!

… The mental image that thought evoked made Wednesday nauseous. Sure, she loved her brother … well, she liked him anyway … kind of, but … ugh … that was just disgusting

!

But back to her current dilemma. How to get out of this wedding… After murder, the second easiest way might be just to speak with Adalberto alone. She could explain to him that she did not love him and therefore could not marry him. Maybe he would understand. Maybe not. Either way it didn't matter. She was not going through with the ceremony. She only wished now to save him the embarrassment of hearing her say so in front of the preacher and all of their assembled family members.

Wednesday couldn't truthfully say she felt nothing for her betrothed. In fact, she felt sorry for the man. A most unaccustomed and unpleasant feeling for Wednesday. And it wasn't that she didn't like him. She really didn't know him. Sure, he seemed a pleasant enough fellow. When he was apart from his mother, which wasn't often, he appeared to be really be quite charming. So far, though, she had only caught fleeting glimpses of that 'old world' charm for which Castilians were famous. Adalberto's Mamá kept her son on a very tight leash. And it wasn't that Wednesday found her

prometido

unattractive. In fact,

Conde

Adalberto Repelli Addams was quite handsome. No, maybe handsome was not quite the right word.

Pretty

might be a more accurate description. Fine boned and slender Adalberto appeared much younger than his thirty years. To Wednesday he seemed somewhat effeminate, due in no small part, perhaps, to his very continental style. He had black wavy hair, the hereditary Addams' eyes, with pupils so dark as to appear black, and long black lashes. Not unlike her own. His olive complexion was flawless, his skin smooth and youthful. Though her own complexion was as fair as her mother's, more than once when she glanced him from across a crowded room it occurred to Wednesday that, although he was ten years her senior, she and Adalberto might easily be mistaken for brother and sister. Even twins. They bore a far more pronounced family resemblance than did she and Pugsley.

The fact was simply that Wednesday was in love with someone else. It was as simple as that. Since childhood Wednesday had known who she would one day marry and that man was definitely

not

Cousin Adalberto

!

Like her Father, Adalberto had been educated as a lawyer. He had attended the finest schools money could buy. He was apparently intelligent and well read. Unlike his mother, he had a pleasant voice and was quite soft spoken.

Perhaps a bit too soft spoken,

Wednesday thought. If he had been man enough to stand up to his mother, then perhaps none of this would be happening now. But then, no one, it seemed, had the fortitude to stand up to that woman. At least no one who had survived to tell the tale.

And lived to tell the tale.

This last thought gave Wednesday pause. One sure way to solve her current dilemma would simply be to kill 'Gerty'. (Though Adalberto's mother called herself

Condesa Angélica

, her actual given name was Gertrudis, but it pleased Wednesday call her 'Gerty', if only under her breath.)

The murder could be easily accomplished,

Wednesday thought.

Quick and painless …

though in this instance the mental images of slow and excruciating seemed far more agreeable to Wednesday's present mood. Of course, Wednesday dismissed the notion

almost

as quickly as it had popped into her head. Even though 'Gerty' was only an Addams by marriage, as Adalberto's mother, she was still family … technically … and Wednesday's parents had taught her long ago that one simply did not go around murdering family, (well, not in modern times anyway) no matter how desperately they deserved it. Still, while she watched the passengers pile into the limousine, it amused Wednesday to let the notion of the old woman's murder play around in her very fertile imagination for a short while. One by one, she gave careful consideration to each and every gruesome method she could conceive of by which she might dispatch the old bag, followed by meticulous planning of exactly where and how she might dispose of the bloody remains. And for a little while this mental exercise made Wednesday just a little better.

Eventually her thoughts turned once again to her current dilemma and to Adalberto. Since they were never allowed to be alone for more than a moment or two at a stretch she could not be 100% certain, still it seemed to Wednesday that Adalberto might hiding his true feelings behind his mask of geniality. For instance he never said a word about the fact that Wednesday had steadfastly refused to wear the engagement ring he had given her. Though he seemed to look on his bride-to-be with what appeared to be affection, if Wednesday was reading the man correctly, he wasn't any more pleased with the prospect of this arranged marriage than was she. It stood to reason that a man of thirty must have had more than one lady friend. An attractive young nobleman must have had many. Wednesday could see where many a senorita might throw herself at such a man. Surely he could take his pick. His elderly mother, it seemed, was the driving force behind this entire marriage thing. It was

Senora Angélica (Angélica as in angelic?-

Wednesday shivered

)

who had stormed into their lives to remind them of the long ago promise. It was

she

who insisted the ceremony take place as quickly as possible. She could not wait two weeks for Wednesday to turn twenty. It was she who had brought along her own wedding gown to be altered to fit Wednesday. It was a gown in the traditional Spanish style, full skirt and tons of lace, exposing her slender shoulders and her long white neck. Now that the garment had been altered, it fit her willowy frame perfectly. But to Wednesday's revulsion, and the rest of her family's horror, the gown and the veil were (ugh) white

!

Wednesday watched as below the chauffeur closed the rear door and walked smartly around and climbed in behind the steering wheel. She heard the engine start. Only by claiming a splitting headache had Wednesday herself been able excuse herself from today's excursion. The autocratic

senora

had been obviously displeased with Wednesday, but, for once, had not pushed the issue, insisting instead that Wednesday lie down in her darkened room until the headache passed. At least Wednesday hadn't been forced to resort to imbedding a hatchet in her forehead to drive her point home. Not that she wouldn't have been willing to do so if need be. But she wasn't nearly as adept at the burying a hatchet in her forehead as was her Uncle Fester. But then, he'd had years of practice.

Still Wednesday's headache was real enough. For the past three days in the old mansion had been a madhouse. During those three days she had hardly had a moment to herself. Her only reprieve was to fall into her bed each night, totally exhausted, both physically and emotionally. And in those three days she had not had one moment to speak with Adalberto alone. His tyrant of a Mamá saw to that. Somehow Wednesday had to find a way to speak to him without the others around, to inform him she that she had no intention of marrying him. Every time she approached him his mother intervened. But she had to tell him soon. It hardly seemed appropriate to broadcast that type of news across a crowded room. If push came to shove she would tell him so at the altar. When the preacher asks: "Do you take this man…?" her reply would be an emphatic "NO!!"

No! No! And

No!

There was no way in

heaven

Wednesday was going to marry Adalberto

!

But now, at last, if only for a short while, she was alone. As the limo pulled out onto the road, for just a split second, Wednesday almost smiled. And, just like that, her headache was gone. Her tense muscles began to relax. For perhaps an hour or so she would have the entire mansion to herself. Well, not quite to herself. Wednesday knew for a fact that Lurch, the family's butler, was still within the residence, somewhere. Standing in her darkened bedroom, continuing to peer through the broken slat, Wednesday watched as the fully loaded vehicle drove out of sight. Just before she exited her room, she paused to check her look in the mirror.

Makeup looks perfect.

Baking powder to take the shine off. Just enough black eyeliner to accentuate her dark eyes. Black mascara. Red lipstick on her full lips. Her straight black hair was lustrous from all the brushing. And her dress. Black silk, the gown clung to her body like a second skin. If one looked closely, one might actually notice that Wednesday wore nothing beneath but nylons and a black lace garter belt. She wondered if

he

would notice. The platinum and ruby spider necklace which hung from a silver chain around her neck drew her eyes to the gown's plunging neckline and to her pert breasts. Wednesday turned sideways and looked at the long slit which ran up the side of the gown displaying the perfect amount of leg. Then she turned away from the mirror and, lifting the hem of her dress, looked back over her shoulder to make sure the nylons seams were straight. Perfect

!

In the blink of an eye Wednesday was out the bedroom door and scurrying down the central staircase as fast as she could run in high heeled shoes.

The first floor of the gothic structure was crowded with miscellaneous pieces of Addams family memorabilia and, like her bedroom, was cool and dark behind tightly shuttered windows. The offensive sunshine was not permitted to penetrate within this gloomy sanctuary. At the bottom of the stairs Wednesday forced herself to slow down, not wanting to appear unladylike, much less eager. Besides she didn't want to be out of breath when she spoke to

him

. She approached the foyer with slow, easy strides. Taking a deep breath, Wednesday summoned all of her resolve, then reached up and gave the noose-shaped bell rope a good, firm tug. The resounding 'GONG' which followed shook the mansion's cracked plaster walls and rattled its ancient windows. A fraction of a second passed before the butler appeared at her side.

"You rang."

Lurch spoke in his extraordinarily deep rumbling voice. Not quite a question, as always, it sounded more of a statement of fact.

*

Thanks for the feedback. Chapter 2 coming soon…?