Title: Something Has to Give
Author: AKA Jay
E-Mail: aka_jay66@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. They belong to Jim Henson Productions.
For the most part, this is a good thing.
Feedback: Would be appreciated.
Note: Hah! Caught up on replying to comments, it's a good feeling. All
virtuous and such. *g* You know, I must have the best commenters in the world.
Really, those people are funny! Reading the comments is almost like reading
a conversation, even though it would have to be a conversation in a lunatic
asylum. Still, good clean fun.
I have a little present for you guys... fan art! Okay, technically author art.
But I'm a fan of the movie in general and Jareth and Sarah in particular, so
you should just let it slide. What you basically have here is my version of
the moment Sarah looks in the mirror and realises that she now has ribbons in
her hair and such like. I'm quite fond of this picture, so if you're going to
mock it... be subtle.
Jareth and Sarah in the mirror:
http://xanadu-dreams.com/jarethsarah1.jpg
Close-up of the faces: http://xanadu-dreams.com/jarethsarah.jpg
Hope you guys like the picture, I had a fun time making it. Oh, and the story
too. Fun all over the place for me. :-)
Part Seven
Sarah stormed away from the bathroom. The echoes of the slammed door followed
her down the hallway and bounced off the walls. But where normal echoes would
have faded away within moments, these echoes just got louder and louder, echo
piling on top of echo on top of echo until a deafening percussive chorus trailed
Sarah down the hallway.
Sarah didn't care. In her anger and fear it seemed only right that the ground
should shudder under her feet and the air be ripped apart by sound. The ground
should shake! The air should scream! Shake like she was shaking,
scream like she wanted to!
Her fist lashed out and hit a locker as she passed; the crash of metal joined
the other noises, joyfully multiplying into a sound like someone crumpling the
world's largest sheet of tinfoil.
Sarah was almost running now, trailing her retinue of chaos down the hallway
like a noisy cloak. All she wanted was to get as much distance between her and
Jareth as possible. Actually, what she'd really like was to get an impossible
distance between them. The distance between an ought-to-be-imaginary kingdom
and a public high school would do nicely. Failing that, she'd take what she
could get.
Reaching her locker, Sarah slammed the door open and began searching for her
gym clothes. There must be something other than this... this... An
accurate description would be "This very nice velvet shirt." but those
probably weren't the words she was searching for.
The lights went out. The noises cut off.
There are many, many reasons why a school building might lose power. You can't
go around blaming everything that happens on supernatural entities.
(Technically, you can. But then you run the risk of actually attracting their
attention.)
Many things happen for natural reasons, propelled by a logical sequence of events.
Needless to say, Sarah's mind didn't immediately jump to the correct and logical
conclusion. That is, she didn't think, "Oh, an escaped hand-dryer recently
imbued with magical energies must have found its way into the lighting wires
in the ceiling."
To be fair, this lapse in her reasoning faculties was understandable. Sarah
was still operating on a very primitive operating system: fight or flight, hunter
or hunted. There is only one word in the language of the hunted; that word can
be roughly translated as 'enemy', and alternatively as 'death'. Who was ruining
her life? Jareth. Why did the lights go out? Jareth. What causes global warming?
Jareth. He was the answer to all of her problems, and not in a good way.
She could feel his presence in the shadows that had swallowed the clean comforting
lines of the lockers.
There was something rolling out of the darkness.
Sarah heard the faint whirr as it traveled down the hallway, heading straight
for her. Her first instinct was to dive into the locker and shut the door.
Don't be stupid, she told herself. It's a crystal, not a grenade! Probably nothing
bad will happen. Maybe nothing bad will happen. Hm. Before Sarah could pursue
that line of thought to its inevitable conclusion, the object thumped against
her foot.
The roll of duct tape lay innocently on the floor, trying to ignore Sarah's
intently focused stare. It was as if she was waiting for it to change shape
and become something different. Rounder, harder... more magical. Duct tape can
change shape, but it's a closely guarded secret within the species and most
non-duct tape beings can't tell the difference between the two shapes anyway.
Nevertheless, in a few seconds a new shape did appear.
It was Mr. Morgan.
Breathing heavily through his nose, Mr. Morgan jogged up to Sarah and said,
"Have you seen my... Ah, there it is!"
He bent down and retrieved the by now thoroughly nervous duct tape. A worn copy
of '101 Uses for Duct Tape' was held under his arm like a bible. He was smiling
to himself in a way that Sarah found somehow disturbing.
"Mr. Morgan," Sarah said tentatively. "What's going on? Why are
the lights out?"
Mr. Morgan focused on Sarah for the first time. She wished he hadn't. "Don't
worry," he said. "It's mice in the wiring. I'll have it straightened
out in no time." He hefted the roll of duct tape in his hand as if testing
its weight.
Sarah looked back and forth between the duct tape and Mr. Morgan's face. She
had the sudden urge to grab the duct tape and run away very quickly. Instead,
she nodded as politely as she could, offered him her best smile and watched
as he lumbered off back into the shadows.
Turning back to her open locker, Sarah paused. The inside of the locker was
completely dark, so dark that it might as well have been a bottomless pit set
into the wall.
She cautiously reached into the locker and watched with horrified fascination
as her fingers disappeared into the darkness. She snatched her hand back, very
relieved when it came out without a struggle. That was when she felt the wind
on her face.
A second later, Sarah snapped the combination lock shut and let out a deep breath.
There were times, she decided, when being in the safety of a large group outweighed
the need to find ugly clothing. She headed back to her math class, avoiding
dark shadows and public washrooms. The classroom seemed very bright to her when
she got there, even though the light that filtered through the dirty windows
was gray and dim.
As could be expected, the students were reveling in the break. Lisa waved at
Sarah from her spot in one of the small groups within the large noisy mass.
As Sarah slid into the seat beside her, Lisa and her blouse did a simultaneous
double take.
"Sarah!" Lisa said. "That shirt is gorgeous!"
The silk blouse cast a disparaging glance over the otherworldly creation. Grudgingly
it conceded that it was better than the loathsome flannel.
NOT, it hurried to add, that the velvet was in any way superior to itself.
Sarah barely restrained herself from going for Lisa's throat. "Thank you."
She replied icily, baring her teeth in a parody of a smile.
Not surprisingly, Lisa was startled. Possibly Sarah should try to emulate the
cheery attitude of her new shirt, which was laughing hysterically at the silk
blouse's claim of superiority.
Laugh all you want, the silk blouse made clear with a subtle shifting of fibers.
You're obviously new. The word acrylic is branded on your every thread.
Does it say dry clean only on your label? I think not.
"Um... Is something wrong?" Lisa said.
Wrong? What could be wrong? Ah ha ha ha! Oh, damn it. Realizing that
hysterical laughter in your thoughts is rarely good, Sarah attempted to squash
down her emotions. She took a deep breath and smiled at Lisa. "Nothing's
wrong," she said, "Really. I just got a little freaked out when the
lights went off, that's all."
As the two humans talked, the debate between the two shirts was becoming more
heated. The velvet had been forced to admit that, being made by magic, it didn't
have a label. The silk had pressed its advantage and accused the velvet of being
a home economics sewing project gone terribly wrong.
The velvet had been deeply offended by the accusation; it wasn't responding
well. It managed to convey quite clearly that it had the power to blast the
silk blouse into the Pits of Oblivion where moths would chew it to rags, red
wine and blood would fall like water from the sky and the sun would bleach it
to the texture of sackcloth. The only way any shirt could escape the Pits of
Oblivion, the velvet tunic added menacingly, was as a dishrag.
It was definitely its father's shirt.
Lisa, although still eyeing Sarah warily, had moved on to other topics. "So,"
she asked, "Are we still going to a movie tonight?"
Movie? After this? Ha. I'm going home, where I can be... alone. All by
myself. In my room.
Sarah thought about that for a moment.
"Sure," Sarah said. "I'll meet you at the theatre."
The PA system came on with a painfully loud burst of static. "Attention!
Due to the lack of power, school will be ending twenty minutes early today.
Please leave in an orderly manner."
The rest of the announcements were buried under the noise of two thousand people
running for the exits.
Back inside the building, the tinny voice of the announcer added a final unheard
plea:
"If anyone has seen Mr. Morgan, please tell him to come to the office immediately."
"Mr. Morgan, are you there? Can you hear me?"
" "
"Jim?"
__________
End Part Seven
*snicker* Yep, still amusing myself. Ah, that poor shirt. (Which shirt? You'll
see.) Ah, Mr. Morgan. You know, I actually rewatched the movie a few nights
ago, and it was much spookier than I'd remembered. If there had been hand-dryers
in the Underground, I'm pretty sure they'd be exactly like mine except glittery.
A final plug for my picture, because it's nifty and I'm fond of it and some
people don't read author's notes. (Like me, for example. Shame on me.)
Again, my version of the moment Sarah looks in the mirror and realises that
Jareth has been playing Princess Barbie with her wardrobe again. Once more,
I'm quite fond of this picture, so if you're going to mock it... be subtle.
:-)
Jareth and Sarah in the mirror:
http://xanadu-dreams.com/jarethsarah1.jpg
Close-up of the faces: http://xanadu-dreams.com/jarethsarah.jpg