Chapter Eleven
Jamie smiled as the decorators completed the finishing touches. He was hosting a Halloween masque for his employees at Johnson, Inc., and he was determined that everything would be perfect. The decorators gathered up their supplies and began to leave as he nodded in satisfaction. The statue of Jareth was carefully covered. A roaring fire was in the fireplace, and white and black gossamer silk hung from the ceiling in shrouds. Expertly carved pumpkins were everywhere, and a monstrous buffet table stood at one end of the room, covered with breads, side dishes, and a large platter of meats and cheeses. Trays of fruit, crackers, and cheeses sat on side tables, and champagne sat in buckets, waiting to be poured. Jamie knew the wait staff would be arriving soon, in full costume as was required, and the guests would begin to arrive about an hour after that.
He stopped in front of the large mirror at the end of the fireplace to adjust his costume. He was dressed as Oberon, the fairy King. It was, in fact, the same outfit he had worn in college, altered with the help of tailors. He couldn't wait for Sarah to see him in it. He expected to see her any time now, and when he did, he wanted her to remember the best. Jamie straightened the tunic he wore, and adjusted the crown of laurels. Looking closer, he added a touch more glitter to his eyelids. Perfect. Then he went over to the CD player to check on the musical selection for the evening. Berlioz, Strauss, and Rimsky-Korsakoff were on the menu. Fitting.
Jamie looked up as a knock sounded. He dropped the CDs on top of the player and went to open the door. It was pouring rain out. He opened it, and there, soaked to the skin, stood Jonathan. It was hard to make out, especially wringing wet. Jamie half smiled.
"Jonathan! What's up?" Jonathan stepped in, smiling.
"Hi, Mr. Johnson, sir. I just have another load of firewood here, hopefully it'll dry out before it's needed. " He shook himself off lightly. Jamie looked closer at Jonathan. He didn't meet his eyes. Jonathan looked tired, dressed in a plaid flannel shirt over a waffle knit and jeans with work boots. He had managed his story of Jonathan being a groundskeeper who had suffered amnesia in a lumber accident nicely so far, but he was still cautious, never mentioning anything that might trigger any sort of memory. He had Jonathan sleeping in a small cabin on the edges of his property, and almost never in the house. So far it had all worked perfectly, he never remembered a thing. Jamie nodded slowly, than smiled.
"Yeah, ok, you can put it over there by the fireplace. That'll be all, I think." Jonathan ambled towards the fireplace. Jamie watched him, a little irritated. His guests would be showing up soon, and would certainly recognize Jonathan if they saw him. It would be better if he were out of sight. Jonathan dropped the load of wood on the floor, then gave a small exclamation. He turned around, and Jamie saw the thin streak of blood crawling down his arm where a sharp sliver had cut him.
"Damn, stupid of me.should've been more careful." Jonathan held up his arm. "Do you have any first aid, sir?" Jamie nodded, he had to get him out of sight.
"Yes, yes.uh, go to the back of the house, in the third bathroom. And please, my guests are about to arrive, so be discreet." said Jaime, irritated. Jonathan nodded quickly and retreated. Jamie headed for the door as knocking was heard.
* * *
Several hours later, it was nearing midnight. The party was in full swing, and had reached that point where things had started to calm down, but no one was ready to leave yet. A few couples were dancing, but most were sitting and talking. Jamie was in the corner, sipping a tall glass of champagne. He strode over to the couch, ducking dancers and dodging colleagues. Then he stood, and clapped his hands, once, twice. The crowd slowly quieted.
"Okay, everyone, it's just about midnight, and it's time for the storytelling!"
"That's it. Midnight. Who wants to go first?" A tall thin man dressed as a Viking stepped forward. Jamie waved him up by the fireplace and he began to weave a tale about Vikings confronting a sea dragon. He finished to applause and several others came up to follow him with tales of their own.
Meanwhile, Jonathan was tired. He had been sitting in a small alcove, hidden from the others, watching and listening silently. He couldn't' go back to his cabin, he just couldn't. The small wooden house reminded him of a tomb, an airless box. All he could do there was sit and think, and try to remember. Remember who he was; remember whatever it was he had forgotten. Jonathan remembered nothing up until a few weeks ago. Mr. Johnson was good to him, well, fair anyway, but he never looked him in the eye, Jonathan didn't know why. And today was the worst. Jonathan had woken up with a pounding headache, KNOWING that there was something terribly important that he was forgetting, but couldn't remember. What was it? He had slammed his fist against the wood wall of his cabin until his hand was raw, but all that had gotten him was a sore hand. And he had been too restless to go back to the dark and silence of the cabin and had decided he would be safe here, if he didn't make any noise. He sat against the wall, trying to grab onto the half-thoughts in his head, half-asleep; as he half listened to stories of witches, ghosts, and goblins.... goblins...he woke up a little. Someone was telling a story about goblins.
"Everyone knows that Halloween is a special night. It is the night where the walls between the worlds grow thin. A night where anything is possible and nothing is what it seems...." Jonathan's head was hurting, he felt dizzy.
Anything is possible and nothing is what it seems....
Where had he heard that before? Why couldn't he remember? Jonathan's head felt ready to burst and there was a strange buzzing in his ears. He stumbled from the alcove and into the hall. He swayed and crushed his head between his hands. His head felt as though it would explode. He paused in front of a tapestry that hung on the wall. It featured some kind of huge mazelike structure, quite beautiful. Some parts of the maze seemed like they needed work. Bushes were withered and walls were broken, but other parts were green and new.
Where the walls between the worlds grow thin....
Jonathan reached out a hand towards the tapestry as his head continued to throb. The fabric was so smooth, it almost looked real. He kept reaching out, expecting to touch the wall, and leaned too far forward, lost his balance...
Jamie came around the corner just as Jonathan tumbled through the tapestry, presumably into the Underground.
"NO!" He shouted. No one heard him; the storyteller enraptured them. He ran to stand in front of the tapestry. He kicked the wall, hard.
"Dammit! Damn." Jamie stood there, breathing hard.
"My, my, Jamie, you are having problems." Jamie spun around. Jareth stood behind him, juggling several crystal balls.
"This was not my fault!" Jareth raised his eyebrows.
"Really." Jamie came over and stood in front of the Goblin King.
"I did what I was supposed to do. He ate the peach and forgot everything. He wasn't a problem anymore." Jareth dropped the balls and they popped as they hit the floor.
"Yes, but you see he is a problem now. He is also more of a problem than he was before. And now, he is also not just your problem, but my problem. And I don't like having problems."
"What do you expect me to do? He's somewhere in the Underground by now." Jareth came and looked right into Jamie's eyes.
"I suggest you go and find him. Now." Jamie's mouth dropped open.
"Now? I'm in the middle of a party! I've got dozens of colleagues here."
"I'm losing my patience. Sarah's child is due any time now. I need to keep an extremely close watch. I don't have time to look for some lovesick idiot cluttering up my Labyrinth. So you must."
"If I find him, I still get to keep Sarah, right?" Jareth laughed and grabbed Jamie's shirtfront. He dragged him over to the tapestry and held him over the opening. He said in his ear,
"If you find him, you may keep your life. Now get moving." And with that, he thrust Jamie down Underground.
Jamie smiled as the decorators completed the finishing touches. He was hosting a Halloween masque for his employees at Johnson, Inc., and he was determined that everything would be perfect. The decorators gathered up their supplies and began to leave as he nodded in satisfaction. The statue of Jareth was carefully covered. A roaring fire was in the fireplace, and white and black gossamer silk hung from the ceiling in shrouds. Expertly carved pumpkins were everywhere, and a monstrous buffet table stood at one end of the room, covered with breads, side dishes, and a large platter of meats and cheeses. Trays of fruit, crackers, and cheeses sat on side tables, and champagne sat in buckets, waiting to be poured. Jamie knew the wait staff would be arriving soon, in full costume as was required, and the guests would begin to arrive about an hour after that.
He stopped in front of the large mirror at the end of the fireplace to adjust his costume. He was dressed as Oberon, the fairy King. It was, in fact, the same outfit he had worn in college, altered with the help of tailors. He couldn't wait for Sarah to see him in it. He expected to see her any time now, and when he did, he wanted her to remember the best. Jamie straightened the tunic he wore, and adjusted the crown of laurels. Looking closer, he added a touch more glitter to his eyelids. Perfect. Then he went over to the CD player to check on the musical selection for the evening. Berlioz, Strauss, and Rimsky-Korsakoff were on the menu. Fitting.
Jamie looked up as a knock sounded. He dropped the CDs on top of the player and went to open the door. It was pouring rain out. He opened it, and there, soaked to the skin, stood Jonathan. It was hard to make out, especially wringing wet. Jamie half smiled.
"Jonathan! What's up?" Jonathan stepped in, smiling.
"Hi, Mr. Johnson, sir. I just have another load of firewood here, hopefully it'll dry out before it's needed. " He shook himself off lightly. Jamie looked closer at Jonathan. He didn't meet his eyes. Jonathan looked tired, dressed in a plaid flannel shirt over a waffle knit and jeans with work boots. He had managed his story of Jonathan being a groundskeeper who had suffered amnesia in a lumber accident nicely so far, but he was still cautious, never mentioning anything that might trigger any sort of memory. He had Jonathan sleeping in a small cabin on the edges of his property, and almost never in the house. So far it had all worked perfectly, he never remembered a thing. Jamie nodded slowly, than smiled.
"Yeah, ok, you can put it over there by the fireplace. That'll be all, I think." Jonathan ambled towards the fireplace. Jamie watched him, a little irritated. His guests would be showing up soon, and would certainly recognize Jonathan if they saw him. It would be better if he were out of sight. Jonathan dropped the load of wood on the floor, then gave a small exclamation. He turned around, and Jamie saw the thin streak of blood crawling down his arm where a sharp sliver had cut him.
"Damn, stupid of me.should've been more careful." Jonathan held up his arm. "Do you have any first aid, sir?" Jamie nodded, he had to get him out of sight.
"Yes, yes.uh, go to the back of the house, in the third bathroom. And please, my guests are about to arrive, so be discreet." said Jaime, irritated. Jonathan nodded quickly and retreated. Jamie headed for the door as knocking was heard.
* * *
Several hours later, it was nearing midnight. The party was in full swing, and had reached that point where things had started to calm down, but no one was ready to leave yet. A few couples were dancing, but most were sitting and talking. Jamie was in the corner, sipping a tall glass of champagne. He strode over to the couch, ducking dancers and dodging colleagues. Then he stood, and clapped his hands, once, twice. The crowd slowly quieted.
"Okay, everyone, it's just about midnight, and it's time for the storytelling!"
"That's it. Midnight. Who wants to go first?" A tall thin man dressed as a Viking stepped forward. Jamie waved him up by the fireplace and he began to weave a tale about Vikings confronting a sea dragon. He finished to applause and several others came up to follow him with tales of their own.
Meanwhile, Jonathan was tired. He had been sitting in a small alcove, hidden from the others, watching and listening silently. He couldn't' go back to his cabin, he just couldn't. The small wooden house reminded him of a tomb, an airless box. All he could do there was sit and think, and try to remember. Remember who he was; remember whatever it was he had forgotten. Jonathan remembered nothing up until a few weeks ago. Mr. Johnson was good to him, well, fair anyway, but he never looked him in the eye, Jonathan didn't know why. And today was the worst. Jonathan had woken up with a pounding headache, KNOWING that there was something terribly important that he was forgetting, but couldn't remember. What was it? He had slammed his fist against the wood wall of his cabin until his hand was raw, but all that had gotten him was a sore hand. And he had been too restless to go back to the dark and silence of the cabin and had decided he would be safe here, if he didn't make any noise. He sat against the wall, trying to grab onto the half-thoughts in his head, half-asleep; as he half listened to stories of witches, ghosts, and goblins.... goblins...he woke up a little. Someone was telling a story about goblins.
"Everyone knows that Halloween is a special night. It is the night where the walls between the worlds grow thin. A night where anything is possible and nothing is what it seems...." Jonathan's head was hurting, he felt dizzy.
Anything is possible and nothing is what it seems....
Where had he heard that before? Why couldn't he remember? Jonathan's head felt ready to burst and there was a strange buzzing in his ears. He stumbled from the alcove and into the hall. He swayed and crushed his head between his hands. His head felt as though it would explode. He paused in front of a tapestry that hung on the wall. It featured some kind of huge mazelike structure, quite beautiful. Some parts of the maze seemed like they needed work. Bushes were withered and walls were broken, but other parts were green and new.
Where the walls between the worlds grow thin....
Jonathan reached out a hand towards the tapestry as his head continued to throb. The fabric was so smooth, it almost looked real. He kept reaching out, expecting to touch the wall, and leaned too far forward, lost his balance...
Jamie came around the corner just as Jonathan tumbled through the tapestry, presumably into the Underground.
"NO!" He shouted. No one heard him; the storyteller enraptured them. He ran to stand in front of the tapestry. He kicked the wall, hard.
"Dammit! Damn." Jamie stood there, breathing hard.
"My, my, Jamie, you are having problems." Jamie spun around. Jareth stood behind him, juggling several crystal balls.
"This was not my fault!" Jareth raised his eyebrows.
"Really." Jamie came over and stood in front of the Goblin King.
"I did what I was supposed to do. He ate the peach and forgot everything. He wasn't a problem anymore." Jareth dropped the balls and they popped as they hit the floor.
"Yes, but you see he is a problem now. He is also more of a problem than he was before. And now, he is also not just your problem, but my problem. And I don't like having problems."
"What do you expect me to do? He's somewhere in the Underground by now." Jareth came and looked right into Jamie's eyes.
"I suggest you go and find him. Now." Jamie's mouth dropped open.
"Now? I'm in the middle of a party! I've got dozens of colleagues here."
"I'm losing my patience. Sarah's child is due any time now. I need to keep an extremely close watch. I don't have time to look for some lovesick idiot cluttering up my Labyrinth. So you must."
"If I find him, I still get to keep Sarah, right?" Jareth laughed and grabbed Jamie's shirtfront. He dragged him over to the tapestry and held him over the opening. He said in his ear,
"If you find him, you may keep your life. Now get moving." And with that, he thrust Jamie down Underground.