(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)
"Mother? Father?" Wednesday walked in the front door. She had been annoyed at first when the bus driver never picked her up from the school bus stop, but on the walk home she'd seen a shrike impaling a colorful songbird on a thorn bush and that cheered her up. Nature was beautiful.
She frowned slightly at the sight of a vase full of beautiful red roses on the side table. Her mother would never have left them like that.
She went into the butler's pantry. The silver plate was laid out neatly on the table along with the tools for scrubbing off the toxic metal. You never knew when you might have a werewolf to dinner, and it was rude to poison someone without warning. "Lurch?" She pulled the bell cord, releasing the fog horn 'Aoooga' to alert the staff that they were wanted. There was no gloomy, basso profundo, 'YOU RANG' in return.
Wednesday's frown deepened. She wished if everyone had abandoned her that they'd done it after dinner. She would have to find a new family on an empty stomach. Well, she could make herself a peanut butter and blood pudding sandwich later. First she would go up to the nursery and change her clothes and decide what to take with her.
She entered the nursery and heard, "Wednesday? Wednesday, is that you? Would you please let me go? I need to pee."
"Oh, Pugsley." Wednesday had forgot that she'd fastened him to the rack before leaving for school. "Are you any taller?" she asked as she untied him.
"I don't think so." Pugsley got up and headed for the toilet. "Someone came in and asked if I was a midget or a boy." He spoke loudly enough for her to hear him over the tinkling.
"That was rude," Wednesday replied. "And stupid, too. Why couldn't you be both a boy and a midget?"
"He was very rude. He took Lurch away with him when I said I was a boy, and then I had to stay here and be very bored." Pugsley came out of the bathroom.
"Oh. I see. Mother and Father and the bus driver are gone, too." Wednesday thought a moment. "What did this person look like?"
Pugsley wrinkled up his forehead in thought. "I think he was in one of our bedtime books." Pugsley got a big, blood stained book down from the nursery book shelf and laid it down on the rack. He paged through and stopped about halfway through the book. "Like this." He pointed to a drawing of a short, gray-skinned man with a big nose, big ears, and huge fingers. The drawing had a glow around it.
Pugsley nodded. "He said they couldn't find any Wampanoags to kidnap, so they were going to take all the grown-ups and find a lot of cliffs and throw them down." Pugsley shrugged. "I told him there weren't any cliffs around here."
"All the grownups in our town?" That would be inconvenient. Wednesday didn't know how to drive and it would be a long walk to find new parents in another town.
"All the grownups in the world."
"No. I don't think so." Wednesday decided she wasn't going to stand for that. She looked at Pugsley consideringly. "You have a loose tooth."
"No, I don't."
"You better have a loose tooth. I need it to call the tooth fairy." Wednesday rummaged in the toy box and came up with a pair of pliers.
"Why?" Pugsley mumbled around his fingers as he investigated to see if a tooth would come loose.
"She knows all the children. We'll form an army and go after the pukwudgies." Wednesday opened the pliers.
"Oh, ok, OW," Pugsley said as Wednesday removed one of his front teeth. He looked down at his bloody tooth in the pliers. "You know, we could have asked Santa." He poked with his tongue at the hole where his tooth used to be.
"You can write him a letter and burn it up in the chimney," Wednesday said as she wrapped the tooth in a hanky and put it under her pillow. "It wouldn't hurt to have him on our side. Elves can be mean fighters."
"Can I ask for toys, too?" Pugsley began writing on a piece of notebook paper.
"Yes. Maybe this time he'll bring you a real assault rifle. That would be handy."
Pugsley nodded. "Can I be the general?"
"No," Wednesday said. "You haven't the tactical mind for it. I do."
Pugsley sighed. "Yes, Wednesday."
Wednesday smiled. She was going to have her very own war. Maybe she would put a shrike on her banner.