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2: Showing Up In Mirrors
The break-in at the Hall of Knowledge had been done by someone powerful enough to slip past all of the very high security at the hall and resulted in one tome being stolen, The Cursed Eye, from the restricted section. The tome was an ancient text that could supposedly give the reader, if they studied and understood the secrets within the pages, the power of ocular manipulation and perspective alterations of those with eyes known as the "cursed eye". Beetlejuice had mulled over that power that the book might hold as the keepers had talked about it, all while keeping a hand in his pocket so he could run a finger along the edge of the mirror.
It occurred to him as he made his way home with his arms full of groceries that perhaps he should have bartered for more money, but he shrugged it off. A deal was a deal. The afternoon wind blew his hair around and he was comforted by the fact that he was expectedly uncomfortable by the warm wind. The Neitherworld was not comfortable, but it wasn't terrible either...it was just...medium. He saw the roadhouse up ahead and hurried to get home, away from the other dead people.
His condo was cool and he finally felt a sense of comfort by the time he set his groceries down. He opened one bag that had a six-pack of beer and immediately questioned the fridge. It threatened to eat everything he just got if he didn't do something about it.
With a sigh he opened the fridge. He stretched his neck, made a complicated hand motion, and the fridge was empty - not really clean, just empty. At least all the old containers and the mold was gone. He grabbed his groceries and got them set up in the fridge. He looked over at the sink and the dishes piled high. He could wash them…
A pounding on his front door broke the thought.
"What?" Beetlejuice asked when he opened his door. He was surprised to see a tall hairy cowboy and his obnoxious little dog standing there. They lived a few doors down. "Yeah?"
"You are back!" The gruff hairy cowboy practically yelled. He had never been soft spoken. He was called the Monster Across The Street, but most just referred to him as Mats.
"Hey, Mats" Beetlejuice said with a sneer. Didn't he owe this guy something?
"Welcome back, lil' buddy!" Mats gruffly exclaimed while slugging Beetlejuice in the shoulder. The little dog at his side, dyed a hideous pink, sporting a set of crazy unaligned teeth snooted around for a second before lifting a leg to pee on Beetlejuice's door frame.
"Hey! Get out of here, mutt!" Beetlejuice said waving his hand towards the dog. He was immediately blocked by Mats.
"Don't you go doin' nothin' to lil' Poopsie" Mats threatened. "I'll box yer ears, Beetle."
"Don't let your pooch pee on my door frame" Beetlejuice said getting up in Mats' face. Mats took a step back, picked up Poopsie, and grumbled as he headed for his own place. Beetlejuice shut his door, grumbling to himself. "God damn dog. Should have juiced that pink terror."
He zapped the television on and moved around a heap of newspapers. His place was covered in dust and cobwebs. He wouldn't normally mind, but it was bothering him like an itch that you just can't quite reach. He stepped back into his kitchen and opened up a butter yellow cabinet.
"That seems about right" Beetlejuice moped with a sigh. His dishes were all in the sink. All the little annoyances had built up and he screamed out his aggravation. Once his little fit had run its course, he turned on the faucet. It didn't take long, especially with the help of his powers, to get the dishes done. He just cussed and grumbled the entire time. All he wanted was to cook up a grub stake (something like a flat iron steak with grubs placed in small cuts throughout the piece of meat), eat a wilted salad, and get to work on his six-pack of beer.
With his dishes done, he fired up his stove to heat a frying pan. He hadn't had a grub stake in a while and his mouth was watering just thinking about it. While the pan was heating, he took out the wilted salad he had grabbed and doused it with sour vinaigrette. The wilted salad came with a packet of dried mealworms and a packet of seeds, so it really wasn't THAT plain. He tossed his meat into the frying pan and started eating his salad while he waited. While he chewed his first mouthful, he pulled his little mirror from his pocket, setting it up so he could see the reflection while he ate.
"Show me Lydia Deetz" Beetlejuice ordered. The mirror went black, then slowly started its fade to reveal the mortal realm. He watched as she walked down a city sidewalk. She still wore black, but it looked like she had a more simplified look. Her hair was down and straight, she had on black trousers, black boots, and Beetlejuice was sure she'd have a black shirt on under that wool coat of hers. Beetlejuice watched her carry a single grocery bag into an old building that looked like it might have once been some sort of factory. He sat in the air, floating, and watched.
Lydia Deetz lived in some sort of loft apartment. Her place appeared big, but really it was just the open floor plan. She tucked her groceries away and turned her oven on. A black cat greeted her. He was right about her wearing a black shirt. He grinned as he took another bite of his salad and flipped his steak over.
The apartment was set up for one person. That much he was certain of. Instead of a dining table, she had a studio space. She had three stools along part of her kitchen counter. He watched her pull out a prepared lasagne from the fridge, something she had obviously prepared herself, and put it in the oven.
"Bet that tastes better than anything on this side" Beetlejuice remarked. He finished his salad with two more bites, watched Lydia swap her trousers for sweatpants, and busy herself with some photographs. With a wave, the mirror cleared and he put it back into his pocket. His steak was about done and he had his own work to do.
It was a while later when Beetlejuice stood up from his couch to stretch his legs. He had gone through a number of his books to see what basic information he could find out. His set of Charon's Encyclopedias, which focused on the Neitherworld, told him that the Hall of Knowledge had some of the highest security in the afterlife and was home to over five million books, tomes, scrolls, etc on all knowledge. Most of the books in the Hall were set aside in the restricted section.
"Who the hell is more powerful than me?" Beetlejuice asked himself as he strode into the kitchen for another beer. He farted and made a pleased groan. "Yeah." A beetle scurried along his kitchen sink. He slapped a hand on it and watched it squirm. "Hey, alright!"
He bit the thing in two and opened his beer bottle. As he washed down the beetle, he thought about what the encyclopedia said about the cursed eye. If the reader of the tome could understand what was being written and could master the magic, they could get the power of ocular manipulation and perspective alterations of those with eyes, in any realm; in other words, the reader could make people and animals and whatever else with eyeballs see things that weren't really there or mess with how they perceived the world around them. Beetlejuice smirked at the thought of making Poopsie think that the ground was falling out from underneath him. That could be a useful power to have.
The downside, Beetlejuice mused, is that if a spook could use those powers, they could control almost everything and everyone...including me.
It was bothering him that there was a ghost out there in the Neitherworld who had managed to break into the Hall of Knowledge...and it wasn't him. He sipped his beer and headed for a closet. He had converted it years ago and it set it up so it would only open for him. It was a door with no knob and only about twenty heavy locks. He went in, turned on the dim bulb, and locked himself in. Beetlejuice sat down on a rickety old chair and stared back at himself in a big mirror. He had swiped it just over a hundred years ago.
He took a swig before commanding the mirror to show him Lydia Deetz. The mirror did nothing for a while, then it swirled and became foggy. Beetlejuice slouched and groaned. The bigger the mirror the more time it seemed to take, of course the more you used it the faster you could get it to work. He waited until it eventually showed him the raven-haired girl. She was sitting on her sofa with a glass of red wine. She had the television on, but occasionally glanced up at the clock.
Beetlejuice stretched his neck and shook his arms out, getting ready for something spooktacular. He gathered up his energy and focused on the television. It took a moment, but Lydia's television cut to a commercial break.
"Do you ever feel as though you have left something behind?" Beetlejuice's calm voice asked while a confused old lady glanced around the screen. "Ever have that nagging feeling that something hasn't been right for years?" A woman with light brown hair glanced around her kitchen before opening up her fridge. "Then look no further!"
Lydia sighed and got up from the sofa. Beetlejuice watched her refill her glass. When she turned around, she was greeted by the image of Beetlejuice sitting on his rickety chair with his beer in hand. She gasped and dropped her glass of wine.
"Just say it three times!" Beetlejuice said holding up three fingers on one hand. "I ain't mad or nothing! Just let your hubby out for ten minutes!"
"Hubby?" Lydia said is disbelief.
Beetlejuice gave her a crooked smile and leaned forward so one arm was resting on a knee. "I'm watching you, babe."
His image flickered from the television and her show resumed. From his closet he watched as it took her a moment to recover and clean up the glass and spilled wine. He chuckled to himself and sipped his beer. That had spooked her pretty well.
After she cleaned up the mess, she went over to the television and was speaking to it. He could hear her and it made him smile. "Where are you? What do you want this time? B? Hey, asshole, I'm not letting you out and you're not my hubby."
She choked that last word out.
"You don't have to be so upset" Beetlejuice said to his mirror. Lydia got up and looked around. He was talking to her through the mirror that was next to her front door.
"You!" Lydia growled.
"Whoa there, babes" Beetlejuice said holding his hands up. "Calm down. I'm just here to talk." Lydia pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "Look, now I know you probably thought that I died when that sandworm got me, but that doesn't happen to the ghost with the most. It just sent me to that hell hole of a waiting room and I just got outta there. Thought I'd drop in and see what you were up to."
"Why do you think you're my hubby?" Lydia asked.
He snorted and felt his face twist in an are-you-serious sort of expression. "Didn't you hear the minister?"
"You can't be serious" Lydia replied. "That was-"
"Twelve years ago" Beetlejuice said cutting her off. "Yeah, I fucking heard." He paused for a moment. "So how old does that make you now?"
"Twenty-eight" Lydia briskly stated. "What do you want?"
"Well, aside from seeing if you were interested in making a man out of me, post-nuptials and all" Beetlejuice cracked a smirk. "I'm actually...uh….yeah, I'm like in need of a photographer." He was happy with that lie. "Ya see, I picked up this job on this side - someone stole something BIG - and I get the call to deal with it. I just remember you toting around some cameras and I figured you owed me one."
"You want my help?" Lydia asked. She looked as if it was the last thing she would ever expect from him.
"I want to strike up a deal with you" Beetlejuice said. "Only this time, it's a blood deal and not something you can weasel out of or anything."
"I don't believe this" Lydia said exasperated.
"You help me on this" Beetlejuice said moving closer to his mirror. "And let me out of here; I'll give you the divorce you want. You'll never have to see me again, unless you want to."
"And if I don't?" Lydia asked. Beetlejuice shrugged and moved to sit on his chair again.
"I can keep this up, babe" Beetlejuice said taking a swig of beer. "I've got all eternity." He watched her take a deep breath. "Look, you make a decision soon. I'll give you a day to think about it."
As fast as he showed up, he was gone. Lydia was left to herself, her cat, and her television.
Beetlejuice had spent part of his night going through the last few years of Neitherworld newspapers to figure out who was causing problems. There were a few possibilities like a devil named Chester who had liked to cause ruckus in the Neitherworld at random times. Beetlejuice was pretty sure that it wasn't Chester. The guy looked like a windbag and he was sure that a douchebag like Chester wasn't of the caliber to break into the Hall of Knowledge. Start a riot, yes.
He stretched in his coffin bed as he thought it all over.
The next morning, Beetlejuice headed for the Hall of Knowledge early. He sat across the street from the grandiose hall sipping some black coffee and watching. He hadn't come up with any ghost in particular with the guts to slip in and out of the hall, but he thought they may return to the scene at some point. From his vantage point on the bench that he was trying to claim all to himself, he could keep an eye on the Hall of Knowledge, the Hall of Place, and the Hall of Vessels. There were a lot of folks in robes who worked in the halls.
Glad I don't have to wear those ugly things, Beetlejuice thought to himself. He was happy with his loose grey trousers and the baggy button-down shirt he was in. He might be covered in dust, but that was just due to his clothes waiting while he had his long stint in the Waiting Room.
"This is dullsville" Beetlejuice muttered to himself. He sat there and finished his coffee before floating up towards the roof of the Hall of Knowledge.
Before he could get too close, a loud alarm sounded. Beetlejuice moved away from the roof, landing on the front steps. Hall workers emerged with rods. The ends could shock any ghost into a briefly stunned state.
"What do you think you're doing?" One of them asked.
"Whoa! Hey there!" Beetlejuice said leaning back, away from the rods. "I was hired by you whackos. I'm just checking out your security!"
"It's okay!" Aleph cried. He ran out from the hall and pushed through the men with rods. "We did, in fact, hire him to look into things only yesterday. Everything is fine!"
The rod-holding men relaxed, gave Beetlejuice dirty looks, and trudged back inside. Aleph turned to Beetlejuice. "You didn't think you could just float to the roof and get in, did you?"
"I had to check" Beetlejuice replied. "You'd be surprised at the stupidity of almost everyone." He smoothed down his dusty shirt, sending up a small cloud of dust. "You guys mind if I bring in a ghoul-fiend of mind to help out?" He threw an arm around Aleph's neck. "She's pretty smart and sometimes having a second set of eyes, another brain, can really help on these situations, know what I mean?"
Aleph made a face as he got a whiff of Beetlejuice's strong body odor. "Oh my."
"Yeah, she was a photographer or some shit in real life" Beetlejuice said not caring about the face Aleph was making.
"Yes!" Aleph shouted while pushing Beetlejuice away from him. "Oh my! I believe my nostrils are singed!" He bent over and took a few breaths of fresh Neitherworld air. "Do what you want, Mr. Beetle. You may want to consider a shower first. I doubt any ghoul, fiend or no, would want to spend any close time with you."
"What?" Beetlejuice asked incredulously. He sniffed his own armpit, made a face, and shrugged. "I'm ripe, but it isn't that bad."
Being run off by Aleph at the Hall of Knowledge didn't bother Beetlejuice any. He had been run off from many a Neitherworld business or dwelling. He spent a little time looking around the hall, finding that the general security was pretty damn tight. Before the height of the day, he found himself at a hole-in-the-wall bar called The Hangman. He knew some folks that performed there occasionally and was watching a gelatinous blob in a costume dancing around on stage. It was almost hypnotizing like watching a lava lamp.
Beetlejuice had a pint of beer and thought about the Hall of Knowledge. If he was going to break into the dump, how would he go about doing it? Get too close and you set off all the alarms, unless you go in the front door. His mind rolled it over while he drank beer after beer, watching the blobby dancer on stage.
"Hey baby!" A dead woman said to Beetlejuice. She had dark marks on her throat, but otherwise looked fairly normal...aside from deathly violet skin and teal hair. "Haven't seen you around here in a long time."
"Hey Starla" Beetlejuice eyeing her. She wore go-go boots and a 60s mod super-mini dress.
"Where have you been?" She asked taking a stool next to him at the bar.
"Oh...out and about" Beetlejuice replied. Her dress was so short that she was basically wearing a long shirt. Beetlejuice completely approved. "You still out for a good time?"
"Always" Starla said putting a hand on his shoulder. "You look like you are doing some deep thinking."
"Yeah, that's okay" Beetlejuice said pushing his beer away. "Doing something a bit more...physical...tends to help me think better."
"I know what you mean" Starla said pulling him away from the bar. Beetlejuice went willingly with a big smile across his face.