The Best Defense is a Good Offense
by
Owlcroft
After the first time Lydia dragged him into the fabric store, Beetlejuice went with her willingly, even enthusiastically. He was intrigued with the colors, patterns, different thread weights, and particularly the dyes used. She would shop for what she needed while he fingered the edges of linens and polyesters and tried to figure out what chemical formulae would be necessary for a shimmery purple or muted gold dye.
This Saturday afternoon, though, Lydia didn't let him linger but dragged him, protesting, out of the store as soon as she'd bought what she needed.
"Hush, Beej," she hissed at him as the door closed behind them. "Don't attract any more attention!"
"Wha –" he managed to say before she tugged him down Main Street and around a corner.
"Just juice us away – anywhere, my place or yours, just do it!" she whispered.
He did, with a puzzled frown. Once they were in her room again, "Okay, can I talk now?" he asked plaintively. When she nodded, he spread his hands and asked, "So, what?"
Lydia closed her eyes and shook her head. "Did you happen to go anywhere near the hardware store while waiting for me to get out of school yesterday?"
Beetlejuice suddenly wore a hunted look. "Um . . . I might have. Maybe." He found a compelling need to fiddle with the ends of his always-bedraggled tie.
"Yeah," she sighed. "And you happened to run into a couple of guys there, maybe? And maybe said or did something to them?"
There was no audible answer to that, just a shrug.
"Oh, Beej," she sighed again, longer and louder.
"Hey, come on, Lyds! You haven't even heard my side of it!" He tried to look outraged and innocent but succeeded only in looking anxious.
Lydia took his hand and pulled him over to sit beside her on the edge of the bed. "Okay. Tell me what happened." She kept her hold on his hand, but didn't look right at him.
"Well . . ." he cleared his throat and started over. "Actually, I just overheard those guys talking and added my opinion to what they were saying and they left." He stopped briefly, then added, "That's pretty much it, babes," and he glanced at her hopefully.
She nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Yet somehow that doesn't explain how those two guys are now going all over town talking about a blond guy in a black-and-white striped suit who threatened them for no reason and then somehow turned into a monster right in front of them. I wonder," she tapped a finger against her chin, "who that could have been. Did you happen to see anybody of that description there?" She turned to stare at him directly.
Beetlejuice closed his eyes, pressed his lips tightly together, lowered his head and simply breathed until she shook the hand she held a little.
"Beej?"
He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. After a second try, he muttered, "They were talking about . . . about Deels, okay?" When Lydia did what Lydia did best, which was to remain quiet and force him to continue, he blurted, "It wasn't . . . it wasn't . . . They were saying bad stuff! About her! And I just . . . told them they were wrong."
"Mm-hm," was her only response.
He drew in a long breath, then lifted his head and opened his eyes and said in a rush, "They said she was a high-falutin' city ninny, a ding-a-ling, no better than she should be, available to any guy in town, and cheating on Chuck three or four times a week." He stopped then, turning his head away from her astonished expression. "And I guess I got . . . a little mad. I yelled at them and then I think I sort of . . . threw a double deluxe lung-tosser." He stopped talking then and clamped his mouth shut as if he might never speak again.
Lydia was also speechless, for almost a minute. "Well," she said then fell silent again.
After a lengthy pause, Beetlejuice whispered, "I know it was stupid. It was wrong, and . . . I didn't mean to." He tentatively squeezed her hand. "I'll just stay out of town from now on. Maybe they'll forget what I look like after a few decades." He smiled feebly and briefly at the opposite wall, then sighed. "Sorry," he muttered.
"No!" Lydia pulled at his hand until he faced her. "Don't be sorry! It means the world to me that you would defend Mother like that. They had no right to say any of that and they deserved a lung-tosser!"
He sat, stunned but hopeful, watching her fume.
"I wish I knew who they were! I'd have something to say to them all right. What nerve, to talk about someone like that, someone they don't even know. If I could only find out who they are, I'd have you show them a triple deluxe lung-tosser!" She subsided a bit, breathing hard and looking fierce.
Beetlejuice perked up a little and told her, "I've never tried a triple one. Might be fun."
She laughed at that, reluctantly, then smiled at him. "Thank you, Beej, for standing up for her like that." She leaned forward to kiss him, then said, "I knew you really like my parents. You try so hard to pretend you don't, but you've come to their rescue more than once and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."
He squirmed and grimaced, then muttered, "Don't really like anyone except you. And you . . . you know what I feel for you." He shrugged. "I probably did it all for you anyway. 'Cause I knew how you'd feel. I mean, yeah, she is a ding-a-ling, but the rest of it? Those two yahoos were just making stuff up, just being mean."
"Well, the good news is that those two yahoos apparently have reputations for . . . um, not being exactly sober all the time." Lydia smiled wryly. "The fabric store owner was gossiping about them and what they said happened and she said nobody believes a word of it. I was just afraid she might notice you right then and think twice about their story."
"So you think if I stay out of town for a few months, everything might die down? So to speak." He grinned at her.
"We can certainly hope so. And, if it comes down to it, you could wear something not quite as . . . distinctive, right?"
"Hey! This is a classic look!" He pointed at himself. "You don't find many people with the taste in clothes that I have." He ran a hand through his hair and struck a pose as Lydia laughed, then he sobered a bit. "So, everything's okay? I mean, you're not mad at me?"
She pulled him into a tight embrace and kissed him again. "I'm proud of you for defending Mother. Maybe that wasn't quite the way to go about it, but Beej – I'm so proud of you and grateful to you for standing up for her."
"Aw shucks, ma'am. 'Twarn't nothing any right-thinkin' ghost wouldn'ta done." He tried to blush but failed. He did achieve a mock bashful expression, though.
Lydia laughed again. "I'm not sure just any ghost could throw a lung-tosser."
"I'm not sure those two rated one. Hey," Beetlejuice brightened up, "if nobody will believe them, maybe I could find them and practice that triple!"
"I'm not sure that would be a good idea. But you could help me with my weekend chores so I'll be finished sooner and we can go to the Neitherworld." She slanted her head and gave him her best 'pretty please' smile.
Beetlejuice pretended to consider for a moment. "Okay," he finally said. "But you have to give me another kiss."
She gave him six, but he gave her five back, so it all worked out.
