Bridge Over the River Winter
a Beetlejuice fanfic
by
C. "Sparky" Read

Chapter Four

Charles met his daughter as she wheeled her bike into the front yard.

"Lydia," he said, " I thought we discussed your disappearing after school."

"I'm sorry Father," said Lydia quietly, parking her bicycle in the garage. "I must have...forgotten."

Charles shook his head. "Now Pumpkin," he told her, "this area may seem safe but we haven't been here long enough to be sure. Your mother and I worry about you."

Lydia brushed past Charles on her way to the house. "Delia isn't my mother," she reminded him.

"Lydia - "

But Lydia had closed the door behind her.

Beetlejuice, now a striped sapling, harrumphed loudly. "Kids," he remarked.

"You said it," agreed Charles, then looked around to see who exactly he was speaking to.

Everything looked normal.

Charles sighed and scratched his head. "Time to go inside," he mused to himself, and did.

Lydia sat sullenly in a chair in front of her dresser. She hadn't meant to be depressed around the ghosts back in the attic, but the problem was on the table: she didn't have any luck making friends. The only people she ever seemed to communicate with well were -

"Yo babes," said a voice.

Lydia looked up. Lounging in her vanity mirror was a very familiar ghost in a black-and-white striped suit.

She screamed and started out of her chair. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, grabbing up the chair and waving it.

"Woah!" cried Beetlejuice, sitting up. "You wouldn't want seven years bad luck now, would you?"

"Get out of there!" commanded Lydia, waving the chair even more.

The ghost threw his arms wide. "I'd love to, babes!" he told her. "But, you know what you have to say, first."

For one insane second Lydia thought the ghost meant she had to say please, then she remembered.

"Forget it," she hissed.

"Oh, come on," whined Beetlejuice. "After I came all this way just to see you! And after I went to all that work to find out where you live - You didn't even leave a forwarding address or anything..."

As Lydia listened to the ghost ramble on, she almost screamed out for her father, before realizing what a useless gesture that would be. She resolved to handle this alone. Besides, as long as she didn't say his name three times, his power would be limited...she thought.

"Look," she said, "I never want to see you again. Now go back to the Land of the Dead, or wherever it is that you came from." She put the chair down resolutely and sat in it, facing the opposite direction.

Beetlejuice was surprised and, though he'd be reluctant to admit it, hurt. Snubbed! He'd been snubbed! "Now, listen babes - " he began.

Lydia suddenly had had enough. She sprang out of her chair and, grabbing the ghost's lapels, pulled him partway through the mirror. "I am not your babes!" she roared. "I told you to leave!"

Beetlejuice stared at her for a few seconds then disappeared with a soft pop.

Lydia sank back into the chair. One thing was clear: this day wasn't getting any better. She decided to go to bed quickly before it got any worse.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

"You didn't come down for dinner last night, Lydia dear," Delia remarked unnecessarily as she placed a plate of food before her stepdaughter. "I hope you're feeling all right - we have your little party tonight."

Lydia picked up a fork and poked at the oddly-sculpted...stuff on her plate. Charles looked concernedly over his newspaper for a moment then went back to the advertisements.

Delia clasped her hands and danced around the kitchen. "I have soo many plans for this party, Charles!" she exclaimed. "Imagine it: Silver lame on the ceiling! And, paisley ice cubes for the punch!"

Charles lowered the newspaper, but looked at his daughter instead of the person speaking to him. "Lydia," he began, "is it because of the gh - " He paused. "Because of the Maitlands?"

Lydia threw down her fork. "Why did we have to move?" she asked her parents.

Delia stopped twirling and stood behind her husband. "Charles," she admonished him, "we agreed not to speak about those...people, anymore. We're in a new house in a new town! So get used to it," she finished shortly and left the room.

Lydia and Charles looked at eachother.

"I'm sorry, pumpkin," Charles said at last. 'But you heard your mother. Now don't you think it would be best to...to leave that whole messy ghost business behind us?"

Lydia was silent.

"So." Charles changed the subject. "What are you doing in school today?"

"We have to talk about our hobbies," Lydia answered. "I'm taking my camera."

"Well, good!" exclaimed her father. "When everyone sees how talented you are, they'll all want to be your friends!"

Lydia made a face. "Do you really think they'll like this?" she asked, holding up one of her photos.

Charles recoiled. "Uhhh," he said, trying to retain his fatherly composure. "Well...sure, honey!" he said at last. "Who wouldn't love...that."

Lydia stood and gathered up her things. "I'm going to be late," she said just before leaving.