Chapter 3
Saturday night had finally arrived. Sarah had agreed to meet Anthony at the party around 11pm or so, when things were already swinging. She checked herself over one more time before knocking on the door.
The door was opened by a pirate, or a knight or something similar, Sarah wasn't quite sure. There was something oddly familiar about him, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She brushed past him and made her way inside him. "Did I miss something?" he called after her.
Sarah's white gown seemed to be a little too big for Stacey's cramped apartment. Several times already she'd had to lift the train up with both hands just to scoot past someone. She scanned the crowd for any sign of Anthony. It seemed that he wasn't here yet. Either that or his costume was so good that it was even fooling Sarah, who had spent almost every waking moment of the past two months with him or thinking about him.
A girl in a long emerald dress sauntered over to Sarah. "Sarah! I'm glad you could make it here. Did you get caught in the rain?"
"The rain?" Sarah was slightly baffled.
"Yes, hon, the rain. It's been pouring the past two nights." She took a good look at Sarah, who was looking a bit pale. "Are you alright? Are you on anything?"
That comment seemed to snap Sarah back into reality. "What?"
Stacey repeated herself. "Are you on anything? You know, coke, pot, stuff like that."
"Oh…heavens no! I'd never do anything like that." Sarah drew herself up a bit, offended that she'd been ask this. "What on earth makes you think I'd get myself involved in a scene like that?"
Stacey let out a "humpf" and was quick with her retort. "well, you are seeing Anthony…"
"Now what's THAT supposed to mean?" Sarah was getting peeved by this point in their conversation, her face going red.
The look on Stacey's face had now turned to genuine concern. "You don't know, Sarah?"
"Know what?"
"Oh Sarah, I'm sorry, I thought you were aware of his…condition."
Sarah's face turned from red to a shade of white even paler than her dress.
Stacey got up. "You need a drink. How's a fuzzy navel sound?"
Sarah simply nodded, trying to take in all the information she had just been given. She surveyed the crowd. Some of the helping hands that were stagehands had shown up early in the evening sans costume. They were huddled together in the corner playing a game of Scrabble.
Todd and Eric, or Tybalt and Prince, as she'd taken to calling them, were talking about selling cars on the side. "Do people ever try to hoggle with you?"
"They try, and we take some money off, but then we charge them $80 for vinyl floor mats." As the two started to chuckle, Sarah was on her feet, interrupting them.
"Sorry, Eric, did you say 'hoggle'?"
"Hoggle? No, I said 'haggle'. You need your ears checked, babe?"
She shook her head, "I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking." She started to laugh to herself. "Hoggle? What's that supposed to mean, anyway?" The others joined in her laughter.
Stacey came around and handed her the drink. A few quick sips and she was feeling much more social, walking around the crowd and chatting with her costars. There were auditions in two weeks for Cats, and some of them were returning to mixed jobs, while others were flying to London to try and keep on the Shakespearean circuit.
The storm outside was now apparent to Sarah, as several times cracks of thunder had made the entire party silent. She looked around, but still there was no sign of Anthony. By quarter to midnight, the party was in full swing, with new faces arriving every other minute or so.
The costumes were elaborate, and she was enjoying playing the game of figuring out who was who. A lone figure from across the room caught her eye. He was somewhat tall, or at least he carried himself that way. He wore long black boots, gray tights, and a brilliant cobalt rhinestone shirt. His hair was blonde and spiky.
Sarah stood, frozen in time. Years of therapy, locking away her past and throwing away the key were now lost as Pandora opened the box. "No," she said, her voice trembling, "it can't be…" Tears began to form in her eyes.
Her cell phone rang, and time unfroze as fumbled for the thing. She looked back up quickly, but the man was gone. She pulled out the antenna and opened the phone up. "Hello?"
The voice on the other end of the phone was not familiar to her. She took another sip of her drink, trying to calm herself down.
"Sarah, this is Dr. Blanchard."
"Who?"
"Dr. Blanchard, from St. Bridgett's. Sarah, I don't know how to put this, but I'm afraid there's been an accident."
Sarah grew cold. "An accident?" She was sounding more serious at this point. "What kind of an accident?"
The voice cleared its throat one more time, "I'm afraid it involves your brother."
"Toby?!"
The man in the cobalt coat was inches in front of her. "Hello, Sarah."
Sarah dropped her phone. "Toby…"
Toby smiled at her, not the normal smile of a sibling reuniting with an estranged one, but that of maniacal glee.
"How did you get out, Toby?" Sarah was shivering, head to toe, barely able to hold her drink.
"Dear sister, I think the better question is 'why' I got out." Stacey switched music on the stereo to a storybook waltz. "Dance with me." It wasn't a request, it was an order. Sarah could barely believe what was unfolding in front of her as she found herself dancing with her brother.
"You see, sister, while you may not have believed it or not, my Mother loved your Father. So much, that she decided that your mental health was worth far more than mine."
He spun her around the room a few times, mixing her from one side of the crowd to the next.
"You went away to college when I was a few years old. The nightmares kept me up at night, always the same nightmares. My own sister, wishing the Goblin King to take me away. Dreams, always the same dreams. Being locked in a tower with the goblins poking and prodding, waiting for their chance with me."
The pace quickened, and Sarah was having a hard time finding her feet.
"I'd wake up screaming. I'd say 'mommy, there's a goblin under my bed'. She would come in, and say 'it's just a scarf, Toby, get some sleep!'" Toby scoffed. "When I was eight, they sent me uptown to an institution. They medicated me, Sarah. Do you know what that's like? Having no control over even your own thoughts? Do you? No, I don't think so, you were too busy prancing around onstage, pretending you were in a fairy tale."
"Toby, you need help, I can…"
"You've done enough in that you've done NOTHING at all. When I turned 18, the state didn't want anything to do with me, nor did your Father, so they sent me to St. Bridgett's. Do you know what they do there, Sarah? Do you? They hook you up to electrodes and try to shock the thoughts out of you."
Sarah began to slowly sob, "I'm sorry, that's horrible…I had no idea…"
"You think that is horrible? Heh, child's play, sis. They put me in a straight jacket and threw me in a padded room. Then came the new dreams. A wrecked goblin city, and your beloved Jareth trying to put the pieces back together again. He lost his chance to kill you, you know. I rallied the goblins together and rebuilt the city, throwing Jareth into the oubliette."
"You did WHAT?"
"You heard me, bitch. I promised you to the goblins and they made me their king. And now, I have fulfilled my promise to them. I get to bring you back to the Labyrinth."
Sarah wasn't believing what she was hearing. Sure, she knew the sad truth that her brother had been sent to several different mental institutions, but she hadn't realized that he had any memory of their ordeal in the castle beyond the Goblin City. He was certifiably insane, there was no way he could take her back to the Labyrinth.
"Toby," she began, trying to overthrow his logic, already planning her escape to the door, "exactly how do you plan to take me back?"
Toby simply smiled. "Enjoying your drink, Sarah? Fuzzy Navels, they're made from peaches, aren't they?"
Time seemed to freeze again. "Toby, what have you done?"
The evil smile on her brother's lips was the last thing she saw before fading to black.
Saturday night had finally arrived. Sarah had agreed to meet Anthony at the party around 11pm or so, when things were already swinging. She checked herself over one more time before knocking on the door.
The door was opened by a pirate, or a knight or something similar, Sarah wasn't quite sure. There was something oddly familiar about him, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She brushed past him and made her way inside him. "Did I miss something?" he called after her.
Sarah's white gown seemed to be a little too big for Stacey's cramped apartment. Several times already she'd had to lift the train up with both hands just to scoot past someone. She scanned the crowd for any sign of Anthony. It seemed that he wasn't here yet. Either that or his costume was so good that it was even fooling Sarah, who had spent almost every waking moment of the past two months with him or thinking about him.
A girl in a long emerald dress sauntered over to Sarah. "Sarah! I'm glad you could make it here. Did you get caught in the rain?"
"The rain?" Sarah was slightly baffled.
"Yes, hon, the rain. It's been pouring the past two nights." She took a good look at Sarah, who was looking a bit pale. "Are you alright? Are you on anything?"
That comment seemed to snap Sarah back into reality. "What?"
Stacey repeated herself. "Are you on anything? You know, coke, pot, stuff like that."
"Oh…heavens no! I'd never do anything like that." Sarah drew herself up a bit, offended that she'd been ask this. "What on earth makes you think I'd get myself involved in a scene like that?"
Stacey let out a "humpf" and was quick with her retort. "well, you are seeing Anthony…"
"Now what's THAT supposed to mean?" Sarah was getting peeved by this point in their conversation, her face going red.
The look on Stacey's face had now turned to genuine concern. "You don't know, Sarah?"
"Know what?"
"Oh Sarah, I'm sorry, I thought you were aware of his…condition."
Sarah's face turned from red to a shade of white even paler than her dress.
Stacey got up. "You need a drink. How's a fuzzy navel sound?"
Sarah simply nodded, trying to take in all the information she had just been given. She surveyed the crowd. Some of the helping hands that were stagehands had shown up early in the evening sans costume. They were huddled together in the corner playing a game of Scrabble.
Todd and Eric, or Tybalt and Prince, as she'd taken to calling them, were talking about selling cars on the side. "Do people ever try to hoggle with you?"
"They try, and we take some money off, but then we charge them $80 for vinyl floor mats." As the two started to chuckle, Sarah was on her feet, interrupting them.
"Sorry, Eric, did you say 'hoggle'?"
"Hoggle? No, I said 'haggle'. You need your ears checked, babe?"
She shook her head, "I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking." She started to laugh to herself. "Hoggle? What's that supposed to mean, anyway?" The others joined in her laughter.
Stacey came around and handed her the drink. A few quick sips and she was feeling much more social, walking around the crowd and chatting with her costars. There were auditions in two weeks for Cats, and some of them were returning to mixed jobs, while others were flying to London to try and keep on the Shakespearean circuit.
The storm outside was now apparent to Sarah, as several times cracks of thunder had made the entire party silent. She looked around, but still there was no sign of Anthony. By quarter to midnight, the party was in full swing, with new faces arriving every other minute or so.
The costumes were elaborate, and she was enjoying playing the game of figuring out who was who. A lone figure from across the room caught her eye. He was somewhat tall, or at least he carried himself that way. He wore long black boots, gray tights, and a brilliant cobalt rhinestone shirt. His hair was blonde and spiky.
Sarah stood, frozen in time. Years of therapy, locking away her past and throwing away the key were now lost as Pandora opened the box. "No," she said, her voice trembling, "it can't be…" Tears began to form in her eyes.
Her cell phone rang, and time unfroze as fumbled for the thing. She looked back up quickly, but the man was gone. She pulled out the antenna and opened the phone up. "Hello?"
The voice on the other end of the phone was not familiar to her. She took another sip of her drink, trying to calm herself down.
"Sarah, this is Dr. Blanchard."
"Who?"
"Dr. Blanchard, from St. Bridgett's. Sarah, I don't know how to put this, but I'm afraid there's been an accident."
Sarah grew cold. "An accident?" She was sounding more serious at this point. "What kind of an accident?"
The voice cleared its throat one more time, "I'm afraid it involves your brother."
"Toby?!"
The man in the cobalt coat was inches in front of her. "Hello, Sarah."
Sarah dropped her phone. "Toby…"
Toby smiled at her, not the normal smile of a sibling reuniting with an estranged one, but that of maniacal glee.
"How did you get out, Toby?" Sarah was shivering, head to toe, barely able to hold her drink.
"Dear sister, I think the better question is 'why' I got out." Stacey switched music on the stereo to a storybook waltz. "Dance with me." It wasn't a request, it was an order. Sarah could barely believe what was unfolding in front of her as she found herself dancing with her brother.
"You see, sister, while you may not have believed it or not, my Mother loved your Father. So much, that she decided that your mental health was worth far more than mine."
He spun her around the room a few times, mixing her from one side of the crowd to the next.
"You went away to college when I was a few years old. The nightmares kept me up at night, always the same nightmares. My own sister, wishing the Goblin King to take me away. Dreams, always the same dreams. Being locked in a tower with the goblins poking and prodding, waiting for their chance with me."
The pace quickened, and Sarah was having a hard time finding her feet.
"I'd wake up screaming. I'd say 'mommy, there's a goblin under my bed'. She would come in, and say 'it's just a scarf, Toby, get some sleep!'" Toby scoffed. "When I was eight, they sent me uptown to an institution. They medicated me, Sarah. Do you know what that's like? Having no control over even your own thoughts? Do you? No, I don't think so, you were too busy prancing around onstage, pretending you were in a fairy tale."
"Toby, you need help, I can…"
"You've done enough in that you've done NOTHING at all. When I turned 18, the state didn't want anything to do with me, nor did your Father, so they sent me to St. Bridgett's. Do you know what they do there, Sarah? Do you? They hook you up to electrodes and try to shock the thoughts out of you."
Sarah began to slowly sob, "I'm sorry, that's horrible…I had no idea…"
"You think that is horrible? Heh, child's play, sis. They put me in a straight jacket and threw me in a padded room. Then came the new dreams. A wrecked goblin city, and your beloved Jareth trying to put the pieces back together again. He lost his chance to kill you, you know. I rallied the goblins together and rebuilt the city, throwing Jareth into the oubliette."
"You did WHAT?"
"You heard me, bitch. I promised you to the goblins and they made me their king. And now, I have fulfilled my promise to them. I get to bring you back to the Labyrinth."
Sarah wasn't believing what she was hearing. Sure, she knew the sad truth that her brother had been sent to several different mental institutions, but she hadn't realized that he had any memory of their ordeal in the castle beyond the Goblin City. He was certifiably insane, there was no way he could take her back to the Labyrinth.
"Toby," she began, trying to overthrow his logic, already planning her escape to the door, "exactly how do you plan to take me back?"
Toby simply smiled. "Enjoying your drink, Sarah? Fuzzy Navels, they're made from peaches, aren't they?"
Time seemed to freeze again. "Toby, what have you done?"
The evil smile on her brother's lips was the last thing she saw before fading to black.