At last the day had come. Jack stood in his entryway, reviewing
a last minute list of everything they had packed. Sally leaned
on his shoulder with a second list, going over things for the
twins for the millionth time. The Mayor stood outside the open
door, trying to look and sound more confidant than he felt.
"Now, now, you two be on your way so that you can get back
and return to work! Err, that is, you certainly need this rest!
No question! It's just...well, try to get back so we can get
next Halloween aaalll set. Don't you worry an ounce about your
little Lumplings, not a bit! Just leave everything to us."
Sally passed Nicholas to Fishgal as Mrs. Corpse looked on.
"Just remember, lots of clove oil and give him some ice
or a frozen cloth for his gums when they're really bothering
him." Sally said. Fishgal nodded and nodded again. The tiny
bone baby squirmed in her grasp. He let out a whine. The
mayor held little Jack and did his best to appear confidant as
the child babbled loudly.
"Ooooh...", Sally murmured. Jack rubbed her shoulders,
then the royal couple walked hand in hand to the cemetary. A
trio of ghosts floated silently behind carrying luggage. Jack
led his wife to a grave. He rapped sharply on the top of the
headstone and suddenly the earth beneath their feet shifted and
reformed. Within seconds they faced a slanted doorway, like that
of a rootcellar. Jack had done this sort of thing many times.
Graves existed in all worlds and provided an access to anywhere a
ghoul might wish to go. Sally however had never set foot outside
of the holiday worlds. She gripped Jack's hand more tightly as
he pulled open the door.
"Onward my darling." he said. "Stay close to me,
it's easy to get lost if you aren't used to these passages."
Sally pressed against his side as they stepped into the cool
darkness.

"Err...Your mommy and daddy just left, Jack Junior. I
trust you will be a good little prince for us. We'll get along
just fine.", said the Mayor to his charge. Mrs. Corpse shushed him:
"Mayor! Don't remind him that his mommy and daddy just
left! We want them to be happy and not think about that so they
won't be lonely!" Nicholas geared up to wail. The Mayor pointed
at him accusingly.
"That one is the problem! Look! He's taking a big breath!
I think he's getting ready to-"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!",
Nicholas screeched. Fishgal spoke calmly and bounced him gently.
"SEE? THIS IS HOW YOU CALM THEM DOWN! IT'S EASY, I'VE SEEN
SALLY DO IT! WATCH THIS...", Fishgal shouted over Nicholas's
siren.


Sally followed her husband through the total darkness. It
seemed like they had walked endlessly, when she suddenly became
aware of a change in the air. A pleasantly scented warm breeze
moved her hair.
"We're almost there love.", Jack said. The ground, which
had been hard as stone was now soft and spongey feeling. A
moment later, a bright white moon haloed by mist became visible.
Sally blinked. They stood under a royal blue night sky.
To one side there was water, more water than she had ever seen or
ever imagined could exist in once place. It moved and churned
over sand white and sparkling as sugar. On the other side, the
sand continued, spotted with tufts of thick grass. The grass
danced in the wind, rising on round hills to a forest of palm
trees. There was a clearing among the hills, in which stood the
only structure, an enormous victorian building with worn peeling
paint. Shimmers of heat lightning moved in the sky.
"This is it.", Jack breathed. "The Bermuda
Triangle." Sally stood silent, taking it all in. Jack
continued: "I planned it so we would arrive at night. The sun
here during the day is much too much for Halloween folk,
especially with your fine skin. All of our people who live in
this place sleep until the sun goes down, no matter if they are
ghosts or vampires, or another type of dark creature. Let us go
up to the inn and find our room my angel." The royal couple
continued up to the building.

Back at the Skellington mansion, a small assembly gathered
in the parlor. The witches were upstairs bathing the tiny
princes. The Mayor sat in a wing chair drinking tea, his cup
rattling nervously with each sip.
"Mayor, it's only been a few hours for heaven's sake! I
wish you would relax. Infants can sense nervousness and distress
you know.," Mrs. Corpse said. The Mayor nodded, his eyes narrow.
"Indeed, you are correct. They can smell fear."
From upstairs one could faintly hear the bath water, an
occasional baby exclamation, but no crying. Although the happy
bath sounds were punctuated by some rather rude words uttered by
the witches. Fishgal slid down the stairs and joined the Mayor
and Mrs. Corpse.
"Nicholas has stopped crying. Do the witches have a way
with him?," the Mayor asked.
"Not really. He keeps biting them. The little dear only
has one tooth, and it's brand new, but he's really amazing. The
vampires should see him. What else needs to be done tonight?"
"They need a bottle each, Harlequinne is coming over
to take care of that, and then they go to bed.", said Mrs.
Corpse. "They get a lullabye at bedtime, who shall do that?"
"Oh, this is all just way beyond anyone's capabilities.",
lamented the Mayor.
Upstairs the witches each struggled with a wriggling,
disconsulate, wet, bone-baby.
"Use a spell! Let's use a spell!", yelped the small witch.
Her sister couldn't respond except to yell:
"OUCH! @#$^#$! HE KEEPS BITING ME!"
Little Jack laughed and clapped his tiny, spidery hands sending
puffs of soap spattering onto the hags.
"This is enough of a bath, argh...let's take them out."
snarled the taller witch. These children must have gotten their
mother's temperment, she thought.

Jack laughed. He felt immeasurable joy swelling in his
ribs. This beautiful, perfumed night wind, the gushing reception
he and Sally had gotten from the clearly starstruck inn
workers... He was in a splendid nether-world with no townsfolk
needing him and no humans needing to be scared. Sally's always
enormous eyes sparkled with wonder. She marveled at the
undulating sea before them. All Jack had told her was little
preparation for the enormity of it all.
"Can I...touch it?", she asked in a whisper. "The Water?"
Jack laughed again and took her hand. She stumbled against him
as the ground sunk with each step.
"I have you darling, you won't fall." Jack purred. They
stopped at the water's edge. The Queen reached out with
trembling pale fingertips to the sliding waves that seemed to
reach back. Warm ripples of water pooled at their ankles and
soaked the hem of Sally's gown. She looked for a moment at her
hand, then brought her fingers to her lips.
"See?", Jack said. "It's salty." Sally leaned forward
into Jack's elegant embrace. They pressed together and kissed
slowly. Jack sighed with bliss at the salt on her mouth.
"You know darling... This beach, isn't going anywhere.",
he said with his famous grin. Sally smiled up at him, her eyes
half-closed. She bit her lower lip and ran her fingertips under
his collar. Jack howled at the glowing moon before following
Sally's lead back to their room.

"Did you warm them up?"
"Duuh, yes of course I did."
"Well did you make them too hot then?"
"No. I did it just how I was shown."
"Well they aren't drinking it..."
"Why must they stare like that?"
The Harlequinne demon arrived to give Nicholas and Jack their
bottles before bed. On his way in he passed two soaking,
frazzled witches and knew this could be a tall assignment. Now
he stood in the kitchen of the mansion trying to feed the princes
while Fishgal looked over his shoulder offering commentary. She
scratched her head with a diaphanous flipper-hand.
"Maybe you should sit down with them. I don't think she
usually feeds them standing. Perhaps that is bothersome to them.
...And they stare because they don't know who you are, afterall."
Harlequinne sighed. Fishgal was irritating. Acting like she just knew
sooooo much about this just. He
sniffed with disdain. Nevertheless, she could have a point so he
plunked down in a chair. The demon was a quite a site with a
baby in each arm and two tentacles holding warmed bottles.
Finally the princes latched onto their dinners and noisily
slurped away. Harlequinne filled with pride. Ah, all the
trouble these others were having! He was a natural with the
royal offspring. As the bottles gurgled empty he patted the
little ones with spare tentacles...and they each spit up all over
him.