CHAPTER 11

Beetlejuice awoke in a state of complete disorientation. He didn't know where he was or even who he was for several minutes. When his sense of identity did return to him, he also quickly became aware of the fact that he had a killer headache and his body felt as if he'd been put through a blender. Seeing nothing but blackness, he also briefly thought he'd gone blind, which gave him a few seconds of terror before he realized he merely hadn't opened his eyes. When he did, he was only met with more darkness that offered no comfort or consolation whatsoever.

It took a few moments for his vision to adjust, and he sat squinting at his mysterious new environment as ambiguous shapes began to gradually take form around him. Among what eventually appeared to be nothing but abstract blobs for scenery that held no familiarity at all, he did recognize one thing that slightly stood out against the background of midnight black. Doomie was sitting some feet away, barely visible in the shadowy haze that composed the unsettling foreign atmosphere.

BJ blinked several times, trying to remember how he'd gotten there and why he was out of the car. With considerable effort, he struggled to his feet and staggered towards his only point of reference, grunting and groaning as he heaved himself forward. He fell once, and it was a titanic battle to get back up again. This strange, alien place seemed to breathe with its own oppressive energy that somehow forced him back to the ground each time he thought he'd found the strength to rise. When he did, at last, reach the car, he collapsed on the hood, feeling more exhausted than he could ever remember.

"Shoulda went to the snotsprings," he mumbled to himself, panting heavily.

Then he realized what he'd said. Memories of flying with Lydia and being sucked into the vortex came flooding back to his sluggish brain. A rush of panic struck him, providing new strength to draw upon. He looked up and made out a form slumped over the steering wheel, and he immediately pushed himself up off the hood and stumbled around to the driver's side of the car, tearing the door open with badly trembling hands.

"Lydia!" he called her name desperately as he leaned her back in the seat as gently as possible. "Can ya hear me?"

The girl was nowhere near being conscious. Beetlejuice couldn't even tell if she was breathing. He fumbled with her seatbelt as he unfastened it and gathered her into his arms, taking one slim wrist between his forefinger and thumb to feel for a pulse. It was there, rapid and irregular. He didn't know if that was good or bad, since he hadn't had one himself for centuries.

"I gotta get ya outta here, babes," he told her, although he knew she was completely unaware. "But I don't even know where here is!" He thought for a moment, then directed his voice towards the car. "Doomie! Hey, Doomie, wake up! C'mon, lights on, ol' Doomeroo!"

There was a weak rumble and the headlights glowed dimly.

"'Atta boy, Doomie!" BJ tried to sound encouraging. "Pull the muck outta your rusty, old grill and wake up!"

The car rumbled louder, then sputtered and coughed, and the lights went back out with a sad, defeated groan.

"Okay, that's fine," Beetlejuice said, attempting to sound confident. "I can do this myself."

He snapped his fingers with the intention of juicing up some instant light, but to his astonishment, nothing happened. He tried again and again, creating not so much as a fizzle from his fingertips.

"Come onnnn," he whined. "This is no time to run empty!" He snapped his fingers over and over, growing more panicked and frustrated.

"Your powers will not function here," came a voice out of nowhere that echoed as if in a great cavern. "This is not your realm."

"What?! Who?!" the startled ghost swung his head from side to side, looking for the source of the voice.

A faint glow slowly appeared in the air above, and Beetlejuice watched in fearful awe as three strange figures materialized before his eyes. Virtually indistinguishable from one another, each appeared to be wearing a cloak that seemed to be made purely of shadow. Only their heads, hooded and undefinable, were semi-lit by the eerie glow; the rest of their forms melted into and actually became the darkness itself. They hovered imposingly over the ghost as he cradled his unconscious friend, making him feel anxious and uneasy. He held Lydia closer, unsure if it was for her sake or his own.

"If you guys are sellin' somethin'," he told them shakily, "I've already got half a dozen at home in every colour."

They didn't seem to appreciate his humour. A spotlight shone upon him from an unknown source, temporarily blinding him. He blinked and squinted but refrained from shielding his eyes, refusing to relinquish his hold on his best friend. Gradually, he began to make out the indistinct forms of the strange entities again, still hovering beyond the reaches of the light.

"Why are you here, Beetlejuice?" asked the first of the three in that same voice that echoed around the dark world and rattled BJ to his bones.

"Uh... missed that left turn at Albuquerque?" he offered pitifully. Then something dawned on him. "Hey, wait a minute. How do you know my name?"

"We know a great many things," answered the second in an identical voice. "We know you are Beetlejuice and you are from the Neitherworld."

"We also know that your friend is called 'Lydia'," added the third being, also in the same voice. "She is a living girl from what you refer to as the 'Real World'."

BJ was impressed. "Okay, I'll give ya that," he conceded. "But if you know so much," he challenged boldly, raising a skeptical eyebrow, "why'd ya ask why I'm here?"

His question didn't faze them in the least.

"Your answer would reveal nothing to us that we do not already know," said the second figure, "but it would be of great benefit to yourself."

"Uh... What?" Beetlejuice was confused. "I think you guys have been spendin' too long in the dark."

"Why do YOU believe you are here, Beetlejuice?" asked the one that had first questioned him.

The ghost thought this was ridiculous. Who did these know-it-alls think they were? His usual brazen attitude was starting to override his fear, despite no juice and having no idea how powerful the mystery beings might be.

"Becuuuuzzz..." he started in a saucy sing-song voice with a clear hint of contempt... but something immediately stopped him dead in his tracks. A horrid, bitterly cold feeling suddenly washed over him, freezing him from the inside out. It was as if an icy hand had plunged through his body and seized his spine, radiating frozen tendrils all throughout his entire nervous system. "Be-because..." he stammered. He drew in a shaky breath that hitched in his chest. His eyes widened and he was shocked to feel them well up with tears. He outwardly winced as a heavy sense of understanding hit him like a brick to the skull. It was pure knowledge; cold, cruel, and completely indifferent to his feelings. "Because I'm an idiot," he finally choked out, hardly believing the words that left his own lips.

"Why?" asked the same being, that single word echoing all around the darkness.

"Because I didn't listen to Lydia," he admitted with an ache in his gut. "And I put her in danger. I got carried away. I knew it wasn't safe for her."

"Correct," said the second. "Then you must also know that your friend is dying."

Beetlejuice looked down at her limp form in his arms. Was she? He couldn't tell. It was very probable that she was, though. The trip through the vortex had done a job on him, so what must it have done to her? He couldn't imagine being a living human going through that. How could he have let this happen to her?

"Yeah," he said flatly, feeling ashamed as a few waiting tears broke free and spilled down his cheeks. "That's why I gotta get her outta here." His tone turned pleading as he looked back up at the three entities. "Can ya help us?"

"We can return you to your proper worlds," said the third being.

He looked hopeful. "You can?"

"We can," confirmed the first. "But your friend will still die."

Beetlejuice's face fell. "Well... isn't there some way you all-seeing, all-knowing, all-powerful types can save her or somethin'?" he asked desperately, subconsciously clutching Lydia tighter to his body.

"There is not," answered the second, making his heart plummet like a stone.

"But there is a way that YOU can save her," added the first.

The dead man looked bewildered. "Me?"

"You possess a power to heal your friend which we do not," stated the third.

"I thought you said my juice won't work here," he told them, confused. "Besides, I could never heal anyone before, anyway."

"It is true, that which you call 'juice' will not work in this realm," the same one told him.

"However," the first carried on, "the love you have for your friend is a power beyond anything you've ever previously achieved."

"Whoa, watch your language," the ghoul said, a little of his smart mouth cutting through his tears.

The second entity was quick to pounce on this. "Do you deny that you love your truest friend?" the voice was accusing, although there was no change in tone or volume.

Guiltily, Beetlejuice lowered his eyes to look at the still figure in his arms again. "No," he said softly.

"Then be not ashamed," it said. "Use that love to save her life."

BJ continued to look at her lying there unmoving in his grasp, her head propped limply against his shoulder. For all his desperate desire to save her, some dark part of his twisted mind was nagging at him like an insatiable demon, telling him that if Lydia were to actually die, she could stay with him in the Neitherworld forever as a ghost. It would mean the end of all the loneliness and misery he'd been going through as she'd been growing up and seemingly growing apart from him. She could be immortal, like he was, and he'd never lose her to things like Sean Molson, career plans, old age, or anything. But he knew in his heart that it wasn't right. He knew she wanted to live her life and she had every right to do so in her own way, no matter how he or anyone else felt about it. Letting her die would be the ultimate act of selfishness, and Beetlejuice just couldn't bring himself to allow it. It was too low even for him.

He sighed deeply and raised his eyes to the three unknowns. "What do I have to do?"

"Take her hands in yours," instructed entity number one.

Beetlejuice shifted her slightly in his arms and did as he was told, noting the contrast between her small, delicate hands and his own much larger ones. His red-tipped fingers looked bizarre and out-of-place clutching her comparatively tiny digits.

"Close your eyes," the second being commanded.

"Please don't tell me this is gonna involve sayin' 'there's no place like home'," he muttered as he followed orders. The beings ignored this.

"Now focus your energy and allow yourself to feel what is in your heart without boundaries," said the third. "You must remove all traces of negativity and feel only the purest love."

He took a deep breath, feeling mostly just queasiness at that moment. "This is gonna take everything I've got," he said.

With all his might, he focused only on Lydia, blocking out all thoughts of the entities, the dark world, the trip through the vortex and any events leading up to that point. He thought of all their fun times and adventures, and the immense joy they shared from simply being together. He visualized Lydia's smile when he gave her an occasional gift; her laughter when he did something funny. He felt the warmth of when she called him her best friend, and the sense of connection between them when she looked into his eyes. For that moment, all else ceased to exist for Beetlejuice but the special human being that was his very best friend, and he was wholly consumed by the incredible purity of emotion he was experiencing. It was like nothing else he'd ever known.

As the pleasant images and feelings overwhelmed him, he couldn't prevent his eyes suddenly popping open of their own accord, snapping his awareness back to the dire situation at hand. Once again immersed in darkness, he feared he'd broken the spell and ruined his chance of saving her, and he was hit by his prior sense of despair. But then his vision adjusted, and he came to discover that he was no longer in the dark world, nor was he holding Lydia anymore. No... he was at home in the roadhouse, lying quite comfortably in his own bed.

Perplexed, he sat up and looked around. Things appeared as normally abnormal as ever. Had it been a dream? Another of his terrible nightmares?

"Nah, that would be a cop-out," he spoke out loud to no one in particular.

He hopped out of bed, noticing he was still wearing his striped suit instead of his beetle pajamas. Running out of the bedroom, he raced to the roadhouse doors and threw them open.

"DOOMIE!" he called out into the night.

The car came whipping around the corner in a flash, looking as bright as ever.

"You're here!" Beetlejuice exclaimed. "And you're not a broken down hunk o' junk! Well... at least no more than usual."

Doomie shot him a look and huffed in offense.

"Did it happen, Doomie?" the ghost asked. "Were we really there?"

The car beeped in the affirmative, and BJ noticed the battered mailbox still laying in the back seat.

"Then where's Lydia?!" he wondered, feeling panicky.

He turned on his heel and headed back inside, charging to his standing mirror. He pressed his face to the glass and willed Lydia's bedroom to appear, knots forming in his stomach. More dark of night greeted his eyes from the Real World, and he had to wait once again for his vision to adjust. But - thank giant, slobbering, mangy, disgusting sewer rats - she was there, lying peacefully in her bed. Beetlejuice gazed at her intensely, relieved when he could see her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm as she breathed deeply in sleep. She showed no sign of injury or discomfort. There even appeared to be a slight smile on her lips. He wondered what pleasant dream she must be having and if it included him.

Satisfied that Lydia was safe, he turned his back to the mirror, leaning back against it and sinking to the floor with a weary exhale of breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Phew... Well, that wasn't so bad," he said cockily. "I guess I showed those know-it-all beings a thing or two. Heh, heh!"

A booming voice echoed around him, making him cringe in fear.

"Do not be a jerk, Beetlejuice," it said. "You can be returned as easily as you were released."

"OKAAAAY!" the ghost whined. "I was only kiddin'! Sheesh..."

He went to bed without another word, genuinely looking forward to the morning light.