Spencers13 1996 — Revised 2001
Beta Reader — Beetle Babe
Beetlejuice & all related charcters © Geffen Film Co.
Story concept & any original characters © Spencers13 (Lacey G)
R — Romance — Drama
Chapter 3 - Oh, my aching body!
Lydia squeezed her eyes shut in pain as sand and bits of dirt were flung at her face. She barely had enough strength to hold onto the sandworm's lower lip, but if she let go, the arm the sandworm had hold of would be torn from her shoulder. So she held on for her life as the worm took her deeper and deeper into the Neitherworld's outer crust.
Suddenly, a bright light stabbed her in the eyes, even through her eyelids, and the pelting dirt and sand ceased their torment. The only thing remaining from her travel through the sandworm's tunnel was the pain that coursed through her arm which the worm still held between its teeth.
Lydia looked down over the land from where the sandworm sat, perched atop an outcropping on a stone pillar that reached up through the sky and connected with the underbelly of the Neitherworld, and immediately recognized where she was: Sandworm Land. Although she had seen it from afar before, she had never actually been there, and now that she was there, fear gripped her even tighter than the sandworm.
The overgrown worm slithered its way down the giant rock pillar to the sands below and made it's way towards a large tuft of desert grasses. It dangled Lydia above its nest of eggs for a few seconds then released her arm from both sets of it jaws. She fell like a stone and landed in a heap next to one of the eggs. The sandworm screeched happily and wandered off, leaving Lydia alone in the nest.
She wearily gazed about her surroundings. Silence and huge eggs that seemed to mock her were her only company. She gently tried to touch her arm, and in doing so, gritted her teeth against the pain. It was broken. Fortunately, it was not bleeding. She was grateful that the sandworm had not bitten into her arm, it merely held her between its teeth. It was a close call when the worm's outer skin also shut its jaws around her. She had to twist herself so that its teeth would not pierce her skin. Then it had carried her here to its nest. But why was the most unnerving question. Why had it not eaten her? Why bring her to its nest? Unless
Unless I'm food for her young when they hatch! her thoughts screamed. And they must be hatching soon, or the worm wouldn't be hunting for food for them. I've got to get out of here!
Using her good arm, Lydia grabbed hold of the dirt wall surrounding her and laboriously pulled herself up to a standing position. She would have to climb out if she ever wanted to escape. But how could she do so with a broken arm and a weak body? She had to try. Becoming a baby sandworm's breakfast was not her idea of ending the day.
Holding her broken limb against her body, she reached up with the other arm and grasped a small ledge of dirt while placing her opposite leg on another lower ledge. With all her might, she pushed up with her leg and pulled with her arm, lifting herself about a foot off the ground. But it was a start.
Slowly, tiredly, Lydia pushed and pulled herself up the high dirt walls of her prison. When at last she reached the halfway point, the ledge of dirt she grabbed hold of gave way, and she plummeted back to the dirt floor of the nest.
She stifled a cry as she fell on her broken arm and heard the distinct sound of another sharp snap. She had broken it again in a different spot. However, by this time, the arm was too swollen and her veins pumped with so much adrenaline, that she felt only a sharp sting.
Beginning to wear down drastically, she looked back up toward her goal, and it never seemed farther away. But the thought of being eaten alive drove her back to the dirt wall and her tiring, painful climb.
Hearing a terrifying roar behind her, Lydia whirled her head around to see the sandworm return to find its captive missing. Hearing her gasp of shock, the sandworm whipped its head in her direction and shrieked angrily bearing its hundreds of sharp teeth. Lydia tried desperately to scramble up the wall, but it was futile. The worm bit down on the back flap of her poncho and yanked her away from the side of the nest.
Lydia flailed her arm and legs this way and that and grabbed at the poncho near her neck. The way that she was dangling from the sandworm's mouth was choking her! She pulled as hard as she could at a weak point in the neckline and the fabric tore, releasing her, and she fell to the ground.
Full of rage, the sandworm dropped the material and resorted to snapping at Lydia with its teeth, attempting to bite her and stop her from moving. She pressed her body as close to the ground as possible and rolled to either side as the worm tried over and over to bite her. But she was tiring quickly, and at last the sandworm was able to get to her. It scraped its huge teeth along her back, tearing her black bodysuit to shreds and leaving deep bloody trenches in her skin. Lydia screamed in agony.
The sandworm, at last victorious, licked her blood from its lips, then paused. This taste was new. The worm looked at Lydia and tasted her blood on its teeth once more. Shocked, the worm licked a small portion of her back and just as quickly spat her blood back out. This creature was alive. And sandworms only eat the dead. Disgusted that its time had been wasted on such a thing, the giant worm roughly took Lydia's leg between its teeth, reared back and flung her as far from the nest as possible. She lost consciousness before she even hit the ground.
Charles tried to take in as much visual information as he could despite the speed at which he and Delia were travelling. They were sitting inside Beetlejuice who had turned himself into a biplane and announced that he was going in search of Lydia. They were now flying about 1,000 feet above an endless desert.
"Beetleman, what is this place?" Charles asked, bewildered.
Beetlejuice's voice filled the cockpit, "We're going through the inner Neitherworld, Chuck. Below is Sandworm Land. That's where I hope t' find Lydia."
Charles looked up into the sky, as it were, and noticed floating orbs that much resembled tiny planets, weaving very slowly between giant rock pillars that disappeared though murky clouds. He assumed that the pillars continued on and connected with the underside of the land above.
"What are they?" he asked, amazed.
Beetlejuice guessed at what Charles was referring to. "Those are the smaller worlds that exist in the inner fabric of the Neitherworld."
"Smaller worlds?" Delia's curiosity was finally piqued.
"Yeah, they orbit the inner Neitherworld in a set pattern," Beetlejuice said distractedly. He was more interested in searching for Lydia than making any kind of conversation.
"Is it possible to get onto those worlds?" Charles asked.
"Uh-huh. You have to wait until the world you want is aligned with a trapdoor on mainland, and then you go through the door into the world. But if no worlds are lined up, then you go to Sandworm Land, and that's where we are now. It's all about timing, know what I mean?"
"Fascinating" Charles trailed off.
Delia pointed around, "What about all these rock towers? What are they for?"
"Those?" Beetlejuice glanced around from his vantage point on the bottom of his plane body. "Those pillars are like the skeleton of the Neitherworld, they hold everything together."
"Fascinating" Charles mused again.
Just then Beetlejuice gasped, causing the plane to jump slightly in the air. "I I think I see her!"
Charles and Delia both looked over the sides of the plane toward the endless sands below. Charles spotted a black speck in the distance. "Are you sure?"
"Positive!" Beetlejuice shouted and teleported them all down to the desert floor near the speck he had discovered.
Beetlejuice fell to his knees next to Lydia's still form and screamed her name at her. She did not move. He resisted touching her and trying to shake her, for what he saw brought stinging tears to his eyes.
Lydia lay in a heap, covered with sand and dirt. Her red spider web poncho was missing and her black bodysuit was torn to pieces. What remained barely covered her body. Her arm was bent in a strange position, and he noticed something white poking through the skin on her upper leg. Her chest also looked as if parts of it were caving inward. A small trickle of blood was escaping her parted lips.
Beetlejuice's fingers raced to Lydia's throat and desperately felt for a pulse. At first he felt nothing, then when he shifted his fingers slightly, he felt the slow rhythmic flow of blood through her vein. Slow. Much slower than normal.
He thought frantically, What do I do? I have to save her! Lydia, please wake up! I can't do this alone!
Charles and Delia stood on the sidelines. Delia, for once, shocked to speechlessness, and Charles too choked by his own hot tears to speak.
Hospital, Beetlejuice's racing thoughts finally landed on a single word. I gotta get her to a hospital! He immediately ruled out any Neitherworld hospitals. They would never help her. He had to get her to a real world hospital. But Lydia needed to call his name to send them back there. He certainly couldn't get Charles and Delia to call his name; they still called him 'Beetleman'.
I can't, he thought. I shouldn't. It goes against all the rules that I've been forced to follow Beetlejuice looked at Lydia's inert form again. I guess it's time I broke those rules, then Delia, hold hands now!" he demanded.
The couple could not help but to comply. Beetlejuice grabbed hold of Charles' arm and gently placed his other hand on Lydia's forehead.
"Hope this works" He closed his eyes and tilted his head downward and began the incantation. "Though I know I should be wary, still I venture someplace scary Ghostly haunting, I turn loose" he opened his eyes and they glowed a brilliant yellow as he repeated his own name, "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"
The four of them vanished instantly and reappeared on the sidewalk in front of the Peaceful Pines Memorial Hospital. Not allowing himself to rejoice over the fact that repeating his own name three times had worked, Beetlejuice rushed through the building's double doors.
"Help! You gotta help my friend!" he shouted at the startled receptionist. She jumped up and followed him outside and gasped at the sight of Lydia.
"I'll get help!" and she ran back inside.
Beetlejuice knelt next to Lydia and smoothed her dirt caked hair back from her face. "Don't worry, Babes. I got ya," he whispered to her. "I'll take care of you."
Just then, the double doors flew open and emergency medics rushed out pushing a stretcher and carrying medical equipment. Beetlejuice was quickly pulled aside, and the medics began an immediate assessment of Lydia's condition. They gently placed her on the stretcher and wheeled her back inside the hospital.
Beetlejuice had never worried so much about something quite like this before in his whole existence. He paced back and forth in the waiting room, restless beyond belief. He wanted to see Lydia desperately, but knew that she was in surgery right now, and wouldn't be out for a while yet.
He could not take comfort in anything. Even though Charles asked him over and over to sit and calm himself, he would only stay seated for a few moments and soon be up pacing again.
At long last, a nurse poked her head into the room. "You may see her now."
Beetlejuice almost leapt through the doorway, but stopped himself short. Slow down I can't be selfish right now. Charles and Delia want to see her too let them go first. He turned and motioned for Lydia's parents to exit the waiting room.
Charles smiled warmly as he guided Delia along, "Thanks, Beetleman."
Beetlejuice returned the smile, and when the two left the room, resumed his pacing.
After what seemed like forever, Charles walked back into the waiting room causing Beetlejuice to stop wearing a hole in the carpet. Delia was tucked under his arm and silently crying into his shoulder.
Oh, no, Beetlejuice thought.
Just as he was about to run out the door, heading for Lydia's room, Charles grabbed his arm, stopping him.
"She's not the same, Beetleman," he choked.
Beetlejuice placed his hand on top of Charles' and squeezed it slightly for reassurance, then disappeared out the door.
Beetlejuice grabbed a chair the hospital provided and drug it from the corner of the room over next to Lydia's bed. He slumped into it and rested his elbows into the mattress gazing at Lydia's broken body. Her chest and stomach were covered in tight bandages. Her left arm had a cast running its entire length, covering even her fingers. Tubes ran into her nose to help her breathe, and she was being given fluids intravenously through the wrist on her right arm. She was also connected to an electrocardiograph machine, and it was emitting a bleep in sync with her slow heartbeat.
Oh, God, how could I let this happen? his mind tortured him. He reached out and gently took hold of her right hand. Staring at it lying limp in his palms and paler than ever, tears once again boiled in his eyes and threatened to spill out.
"Oh, Lydia," he whispered, not caring if she heard him or not, "Lydia, why did this have ta happen to you? It it's not fair. It's not your time." A tear dripped down his cheek, but he did not bother to wipe it away. "You you should be up and running and laughing and and spending time with me in the Neitherworld, but I don't want the Neitherworld to be your permanent home not yet."
Beetlejuice traced the outline of Lydia's delicate fingers with one of his own. Gently, he ran his finger up each of hers then down again when he came to their tips.
I should talk to her now since no-one is around and since since it may be the last time I see her in this world his face contorted in emotional pain and a few more tears dripped from his eyes.
"Lydia I I've been wanting to talk to you about something," he choked, trying to find a way to say everything he longed to since just before they parted that day her parents discovered him. "Lydia I I don't know how you'll take this, and I don't care, but I just have to tell you how I feel about you." Beetlejuice opened his mouth and the words spilled out all by themselves, "I lo-"
"BEETLEMAN!"
Beetlejuice whirled around and looked up from his seat.
Delia towered over him with her hands on her hips and a sour expression grabbing at her face. "How dare you come in here and disturb Lydia!"
Beetlejuice swallowed. "I-uh was just visiting her, Mrs. D. Is that so wrong?" he said quickly wiping his eyes and releasing Lydia's hand.
"Well, I think you should leave, Beetleman. You've already caused enough damage as it is. If you hadn't come back and drug Lydia off to that-that world of yours, she wouldn't be like this now."
Beetlejuice stared downward and winced as if he'd been slapped. He almost wished Delia had smacked him instead of shoving what had happened into his face. A few seconds later, a shuffling noise made him look up from the floor.
Charles walked in carrying three cans of soda pop, one of which he handed to Delia.
"I got you a 7-UP, Beetleman. I hope you like that kind. I couldn't think of anything else."
Beetlejuice slowly reached up and took the can from him. "Thanks, Charles." He glanced back to Delia, who still scowled at him even as she opened her pop with a clack. "Actually, I'd better be going," he told Charles. "I need to take care of a few things."
"Are you sure?" Charles asked opening his can. "What if Lydia wakes up? She'll probably want to see you-"
"Charles!" snapped Delia as she gave him a warning look.
"I'll, uh see ya later, kay, Chuck?" Beetlejuice mumbled as he exited the hospital room just as a doctor slid past him.
"Excuse me," the doctor said to Beetlejuice as he squeezed by. Turning his attention to the room, he addressed the standing couple. "Mr. and Mrs. Deetz? I'm Dr. Laffarty. I took care of Lydia when she was first brought in."
"Of course, Dr. Laffarty," Delia said sweetly. "What can you tell us?"
The doctor took a deep breath and exhaled. "I absolutely hate giving people news like this, and I'm afraid it's not good."
Standing just outside the door, and out of sight, Beetlejuice held his breath, even though he did not need to. Very carefully, he listened to the conversation in the room, desperate to find out exactly what was wrong with Lydia.
Delia gasped slightly when the doctor said the news was not good. "Please tell us, Doctor."
"Well her left arm is broken in three separate places and her right leg in four. She has several fractured ribs along both sides of her ribcage, and several gashes that run the length of her back. She's lost a lot of blood, but fortunately we've had an upsurge of donations these past few months, so we were well stocked when she came in." The doctor checked his clipboard for a few seconds, then added, "She also seems to be suffering from malnutrition. Have you seen any changes in her eating habits in the last few weeks?"
Delia lowered her gaze to Lydia lying in bed while Charles cleared his throat. "Yes, actually, I have. She became very depressed when her friend went away for a while."
Dr. Laffarty scribbled a few notes on his clipboard with a click-pen. "Well, this friend must mean a lot for her to suffer depression and malnutrition in her absence."
"His," Charles corrected.
The doctor looked up from his scribbling. "I see." He stabbed the top of the pen onto the clipboard, clicking it shut, then clipped it onto the papers. "Well, I'm sorry to say, there is still more bad news"
Delia leaned against Charles and closed her eyes while he put his arms around her. "I'm not sure we can take much more, Doctor," he said solemnly.
Dr. Laffarty nodded, "And that's why I hate to be the bearer of bad news." He paused for a moment. "Mr. and Mrs. Deetz, we've done all there is possible for your daughter, however, if Lydia shows no sign of improvement within the next thirty-six hours, I'm afraid there will be nothing more we can do for her."
Outside the door, Beetlejuice could take it no more and covered his face with his hands. His shoulders heaved uncontrollably as he silently sobbed into his palms. Lydia, he thought, Lydia could die. But I don't want her to! Lydia Lydia Beetlejuice cried.
"Sir? Are you alright?" a passing nurse asked of him. "You're so pale, what's wrong?"
Beetlejuice wiped his eyes carelessly on his already damp striped sleeves. Sniffing loudly, he muttered, "I'm fine, I I just need to sit down, I guess."
The nurse took hold of his arm and lead him to the waiting room. She sat him down and told him to stay there until she returned. Beetlejuice nodded blindly, too depressed to care about himself anymore. After a moment, the nurse returned carting a steaming cup of coffee.
"I left it black for you," she commented. "I didn't know how you liked it, and that 7-UP isn't going to do you much good in your condition."
Beetlejuice stared into the cup of steamy liquid and smiled only slightly. "Thanks," was all he managed to say.
"Drink up. You need to put some colour back in those cheeks of yours. And you feel a little cold, even through your jacket sleeves, so you'd better drink it while it's still hot." The nurse smiled down at him and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, sir. I'm sure things will turn out just fine." And she was gone.
Beetlejuice sat in the waiting room a moment longer staring at his coffee. He could not recall ever drinking such a concoction before and wondered what it tasted like. Gingerly, he took a sip of the black liquid. His face contorted at the bitter taste, and he swallowed it with great difficulty.
"Whew!" he whistled to himself, "That's some strong stuff." And although he detested the taste, somehow he could not keep from drinking it. He only realized he had finished the cup off when he tilted it upside down, and only a drop slid out from inside. He tossed the empty cup in the trash can nearby and leaned forward putting his elbows on his legs and propping his chin in his hands.
Something there has to be something I can do for Lyds, he thought. Something The longer and harder he thought, the more stumped he became. I know there's something I could do I think. Hmmm well, I'm not makin' much progress here, maybe I'll go back to Lyds' house for a while since I don't seem to be welcome here a walk might do me good, anyhow.
Beetlejuice stood up from his chair in the waiting room and trudged back down the hallway toward the elevator. It was important that he walk and travel about the building as if he were alive so as not to cause suspicion or screams. Along the way, he stopped and peeked into Lydia's room. Charles was standing next to Lydia's bed holding his daughter's hand while Delia ranted about Beetlejuice and his supposed meddling into Lydia's life and how everything was his fault.
Beetlejuice turned, hung his head, and walked for the elevator.
Charles turned a frowning look on Delia as she complained, but was distracted by a striped pattern in the doorway. He saw Beetlejuice turn with an expression so riddled with torment, that Charles himself felt he was about to cry. After Beetlejuice was out of sight, Charles spun angrily on his wife.
"Enough, Delia!"
Stopping in mid-sentence, Delia stared disbelieving at her husband. For the first time in years, Charles had raised his voice to her. She sat obediently in her chair and waited for him to continue.
"I'm sick and tired of you blaming other people for things they didn't even do! Look at you! Going on and on about Beetleman, 'he did this, he did that! He caused this to happen to Lydia!'" Charles choked on his daughters name and squeezed her hand a little tighter. "Well, if you'll recall, it was Beetleman who first found Lydia in that desert, it was Beetleman who instantly transported us all to this hospital for help. And I think it's Beetleman who cares for Lydia more than you do!"
Delia gasped, "Charles! How could you possibly think such a thing!"
"Well, look at you! You're so hung up on Beetleman and how you think he caused all this, that you haven't stepped back and taken a look at the whole picture."
"What whole picture?"
"If you hadn't stepped into Beetleman and Lydia's friendship and forced them apart, this would never have happened! Lydia would not have malnutrition, she would not be lying in this bed in the hospital and for God's sake, Delia, her life wouldn't be on the line!" Charles finished bleary-eyed. "Now I don't want to hear anymore about it. I don't think Lydia would like our voices raised or harsh things being said about her friend."
And all was silent in room number 213.
Thank you for reading!
Next to come...findings.