Chapter 8: The Woe Must Go
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~~~ [START]
"–"
Ash stared at her, face confused and expression clearly puzzled.
And air escaped his lips as he suddenly laughed.
He even held his gut, clearly affected by her words.
But then his laughter stopped, noticing how Grandma Frump's expression remained unfazed.
He turned his eyes to her, their orbs locked straight with her gaze.
"What?" he asked in a whisper, clearly confused.
"They are hunting you," she said, breaking his question. "And the only reason they aren't walking through that door as we speak is simply because you are under the protection of a Frump."
Ash's brows furrowed, perhaps finally understanding that she was serious.
"Don't you ask yourself why there were explosions when we came to retrieve you from that lab?" she asked, hands now lifted to the table, supporting her head. "Don't you even wonder what caused that lab to explode, the same explosion that executed your friends?"
She could see the change in his eyes when she asked the question. She noted when a shiver moved right through his neck.
He was pretending. She could tell from the lack of a spark in his eyes and the absence of change in the color of his skin.
She had learned too much about who he really was. Three entire months, and his act still couldn't fool her.
"Their patience is running thinner," she continued. "Age is catching up to them, and eventually, they won't care about who or what protects you." She paused, studying him for a while. "They will come, and even if you stay with a Frump, my protection won't be enough."
Confusion flickered across Ash's face. He thought that she wanted to talk about why he had to go to school, but the conversation had clearly taken a completely different direction.
"You need more protection," she said, turning to the whisky, lifting it, then pouring another glass. She tilted her head toward him, hesitated for a second, then shifted her stare back to his eyes, pouring him another glass as well. "The Addams family is one of the oldest in comparison to all generations. It wouldn't even be a stretch to say that its roots stretch wider than the elders." She giggled softly, noticing the unintended pun.
"If we make them believe that a Frump and the Addams are giving you protection," she smiled, lifting the glass of whisky and taking a sip, "they will stop being rash, which might buy us more time."
"Time for what?" Ash finally questioned, brows still frowning and expression holding tangible confusion.
She smiled as he asked, shaking her head, perhaps realizing her overestimation.
"Do you really think the Immortals always relied on the protection of others?" She replied finally, placing her glass on the table. "The lightbulb," she began to say, "the first plane; the first engine; the first AI; the development of the first phone…" She stopped, noting the little spark in his eyes that hinted he had gotten it. "Inventions," she clarified his conclusion. "Nuclear bombs, radiation weapons. It was all made by Immortals, your father." She shook her head, smiling widely. "That's why your parents never faced the problems you are currently facing. They feared them, we all did."
Ash's eyes drifted for a second too long. He shook his head, bringing himself to attention. Then reached out his hand swiftly, grabbed the glass of whisky, and chugged it once again in that instant.
He grunted, feeling the liquid burning past his throat.
Grandma Frump smiled widely, clearly amused by how much a dab of witchcraft could strengthen alcohol while at the same time decreasing its effects.
He placed it on the table, causing it to shake with its descent.
"Sorry," Ash said, catching his breath. "But I'm too young to get married." He shrank his body backward, fully embracing the comfort the seat offered. "I haven't even seen a girl my age yet," he said with a whisper, his voice silent as though his words were only meant for himself. "Shit, the only women I've gotten to see these past few months were only Jessica and some older maids."
"What…" Grandma Frump held her hand to her face, covering her mouth, playing hurt. "Am I not a woman to you?"
Ash giggled when he heard her words, shaking his head, hoping to brush it off before the teasing could reach a climax.
"It's just an engagement," she said, fixing her figure. "It's nothing really, just something that will let the others know taking you blindly will yield consequences. Then, after that, after gaining enough time from it, the engagement will be null; canceled."
Ash tried to speak, perhaps an attempt to refute her offer.
"I wasn't asking you, child. The arrangements have long since been made," she shot, and a heavy sigh escaped Ash's lips. "At this point… It's no longer a matter of want, it's a simple obligation."
He shook his head, crouching his body lower on the comfortable seat.
"So, is it some type of tech?" he asked, clearly intrigued by her claims.
She only raised her shoulders, expression hinting at lingering laughter.
"I have no idea what it is," she said, causing a sigh to escape Ash's lips after she spoke. "All I know is where it's located." But she paused, thinking for a while, clearly pondering her statement. "At least partially."
Ash released another sigh, moving his hand upward to the top of his head, brushing his palm on his dark, short curly hair.
"Fuck!" he shouted, causing her eyes to spark with little interest; she had simply grown too accustomed to when he would swear. "Okay," he shook his head, "what am I supposed to do?"
She almost laughed, clearly amused by the question.
"Nothing," she replied, taking some papers that were lying on the far left side of the table. "Just go to school like any normal child your age. I'll do everything else."
He frowned, hearing her.
"And also," she almost forgot, "try by all means possible not to get expelled, because as I said, I won't be around for a while… a really long while." He stared, slightly bothered by her statement. "I'll be blunt," She straightened up, an indication that she was being completely serious. "Weems doesn't like you much; in fact, most outcasts never will." She continued, noting his unhinged behavior. "So, try not to make any mistakes, and if you do, fix them, it doesn't matter how."
Ash knew what she meant; he had foreshadowed it from the time she once revealed that she owned a dozen mortuaries.
She stood up, making her way up to the door.
"You will be leaving today with Weems," she said, opening the handle. "She is probably waiting for you as it is."
She almost walked away, nearly moving her figure past the door's half-open frame.
"Did you lie?" she heard Ash ask from the back. "Do you really not know what the symbols mean?"
She didn't even try to look back after his question.
"Like I said," she said, moving closer to the exit, "'Veythar' is a language only known by immortals. The only reason I knew the word 'Veyth' is because it is the only one your parents were gracious enough to teach." She finally turned to him, her face almost smiling. "How heartless of you to think that I am a liar," she said. "You don't even tell me how you know the meaning of the other words." She smiled, as though his actions brought her an ounce of excitement. "I'm so proud." Then, she walked out.
Leaving Ash to stay behind with his eyes glaring at the bottle of freshly opened whisky; a bottle she had left atop her desk.
~~~ [END]
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