The Bana-Bhuidseach of Dunplaistie
by
Owlcroft

The Deetzes had new neighbors down the road, the Hodge family. Andrew Hodge, employed by Peaceful Pines as the new town administrator, had moved his small family there just two months ago, but now his mother had traveled from Scotland to visit and see his new home.

Delia Deetz had made sure to welcome the new residents with home-baked cookies, but they liked her anyway. Now that Andrew's mother had arrived, Delia delivered more cookies, which were very much appreciated by the Hodge's dog, but Delia managed to leave behind the plate she'd carried them on.

Beetlejuice, after several hints from his wife, had offered to pick it up, but he hadn't anticipated the reaction he'd receive.

Alone in the house when he knocked at the door, the elder Mrs. Hodge called, "Come ben," but startled when she saw him. "A ghastie!" she exclaimed.

"I certainly am not!" was the nettled reply. "And I'm not a ghoulie or a long-leggedy beastie, either! And I certainly don't go bump in the night." He paused and thought for a moment. "Unless," he added, "I have to get up . . . you know . . . and forget where the door is and hit my elbow. Then it's not just a bump in the night, know what I mean?"

She had caught her breath while he talked and now ventured a smile. "You're a . . . harmless . . . ghost, is it?"

"Well, I'm not exactly harmless, but I'm not going to hurt you. You're visiting a neighbor of my in-laws and I just came by to pick up the plate Deels left." He aimed a thumb over his shoulder toward the Deetz house on the hill. "Hi, how ya doin'? You can call me BJ. You're Mrs. Hodge, right?" and he held out a friendly hand to her.

She took it and didn't let go, holding it tightly and trying rather obviously to become calm. Beetlejuice eased her into a chair and let her sit and breathe, patting the hand still gripping his once in a while, thinking how he could convince her everything was okay. "Hey, how 'bout some tea . . . and crumpets!" he offered. "Yeah, I could do you some tea and crumpets in a . . . in just a second or two."

"Och, what a helpful, kind spirit you are then. Nay, my thanks, but give me just a wee moment and I'll be well." The elderly lady was patting her chest with her free hand, but still kept a grip on his.

"Lyds, that's Lydia, my wife, told me you were visiting here. Maybe she should've come with me, sort of make you feel better about me, huh?"

"I'm not a-frighted now, you know. 'Twas merely the surprise of it. I thought for a moment . . . well. I merely needed to catch my breath again." Mrs. Hodge examined him intently. "And have you always been a ghost, never alive or human, that is?"

Beetlejuice nodded. "Yep. Born that way, but . . . maybe I ought not to be telling you this stuff. I mean, I could keep you from telling anybody else, or maybe wipe it out of your memory, or something." He eyed her curiously. "There's something about you, though. Makes me think I can trust you, or that . . . I don't know, you know what to do with this kind of info."

"Laddie," she smiled, "I've been in touch with more ghosts than you have. Or," she thought again, "perhaps not. But I've been talking with the spirits for most of my eighty years now. It's just that you're the first one I've seen in the . . . flesh?" She gripped his hand tighter. "Well, let's just call it that, shall we?"

"Okay with me," he grinned.

Mrs. Hodge released his hand then and leaned back comfortably in her chair. "You see, BJ," she smiled at the nickname, "I'm called the bana-bhuidseach of Dunplaistie. In Scotland, you ken."

"That's . . . hmm, that's not the same as . . . a cailleach." Beetlejuice thought for a moment.

The silver-haired lady watched him with a twinkle in her faded blue eyes which said she hoped he'd get it right.

"It's a . . . it's a . . ." He scratched his head and frowned. "It's a . . . witch, right? A wise woman, a good witch." He smiled at her hopefully.

"Right you are," she smiled broadly. "And I've seen a thing or three in my time."

"I bet. But never a ghost before, huh?" He sat comfortably in the air in front of her. "At least, not a real one. Maybe some of those séance fakes, but not the real McKay like me, right?" He pointed a proud thumb at his chest.

The wise woman nodded. "And you're right again. I've heard and felt some spirits now and now, but nothing like yourself. How is it that you breathe, I'm wondering? If that's not too personal a question," she added hastily.

Beetlejuice was enjoying her accent and 'pairrsonal' made him grin. "Everybody breathes where I come from. How could we talk if we didn't take air in and let it out? I mean, I might be dead, but I have an existence. I breathe and sweat and my heart beats and everything. Actually," he paused for a few seconds, "Lyds, my wife remember, is probably responsible for my heart beating the way it does. It used to just sort of thump along once in a while. Now it beats all regular and it's got her name on it. Want to see?" He raised his brows at her in question.

"Now, laddie. Are you telling me you can show me your heart then?" Mrs. Hodge frowned at him. "Don't make mock of a bhuidseach." When she saw his grin and he started to pull his shirt apart, she stopped him at once. "Nay, now. I think that might be more than my heart could take!"

He laughed, then stood. "I think I'd better be getting back." He hesitated, then said, "You won't tell anybody, right? Nah, I know you won't. Oh, the plate!" He squinted for two seconds, then held the plate in his hand.

Mrs. Hodge drew in her breath in wonder, then sighed happily. "There aren't thanks enough for what you've shown me this day. All my life, I've wished to see a spirit for myself, and now I've the wonder and amazement of it to take me the rest of my way. Ghost BJ, you've given an old woman much to ponder. And I do thank you for the things you've told me, but I've three things still to say to you." She shook her head, frowning. "The first – it confounds me how that Delia can make such a bungle of a simple biscuit. Oatmeal, at that. Heaven help you if she makes your porridge in the mornings."

He shrugged. "It's not a problem for me. Remember – I'm already dead."

Mrs. Hodge laughed at that until she was nearly breathless, then stood up and shook a finger at him. "Och, 'tis an ill-trickit lad you are. Now, hear me, this is the second thing I'll say to you." She took a deep breath, then told him, "My path is nearly trod; I know the number of my days are short now which is why, at my age, I came across the sea to visit my only chiel. When I realized what you are, I thought perhaps you'd come to fetch me." She laughed again, softly. "I would not have minded that, now that we've spoken. But, there's naught to be done but accept, which I do. Time, however, is precious to me and there are still things I would like to see and do before . . ." She sighed then. "Not a word to Andrew, now. You keep my secret and I will keep yours. Be sure of it."

Beetlejuice was speechless before her, very still, his expression one of sadness and anxiety mingled.

She came quite near to him then and put her hand on his forehead. "And this is the third thing I will say to you. You have given me a gift that I cannot repay. But here's my try at it. Blessed be," she spoke quietly, "blessings on thee. Blessings on thine evermore. Blessed be thy heart's core. Blessings of peace, blessings of love. Blessings on thy strength thereof. Of discord, be thou free. Peace be thine, blessed be."

Beetlejuice stood as she took her hand down to rest it on his shoulder and then gently kissed him on both cheeks. Then he opened his mouth but closed it again without speaking. After another false start, finally he leaned forward and returned the kisses. "If a ghost can give a blessing," he said quietly, "then . . . you have mine."

"Anyone can give a blessing," she told him with a smile. "And I have that of a ghost. I am blessed indeed."