Disclaimer: Beetlejuice and Co belong to Geffen. Alas that he did not choose to make further use of them.
Chapter 15: …Fell all this Mischance
Transportation by poltergeist was never, ever going to catch on, except possibly as an extreme sport. Lydia held on to Beetlejuice with the strength of sheer terror, and he had her wrapped up as close as he could possibly get her, but the terrible storm of their passing fought to tear them apart nonetheless. She tried to scream, but couldn't find the air, couldn't fill her lungs. And then, as suddenly as it began, it was over, and she filled her lungs and let loose a howl that shook the skies. "WHAT WAS THAT?"
He rocked her gently, attempting to loosen the deathgrip she had on him. He stroked her hair. "Sorry, babe. If I'd warned you, you would have been twice as scared." She came to herself at last, shoved him away, spun in the grass, and fell gracelessly at his feet. He kneeled next to her and rocked back on his heels, allowing her the time she needed. After a few minutes, her breathing steadied, and she allowed him a small smile, for which he was extremely grateful. "That was the scariest thing I've ever done. What did we just do?"
"That, my dear, was a wormhole. Like it?"
"No." She scowled at him, but with no heat behind it, and he flashed her a toothy grin. She snorted delicately and allowed him to lift her to her feet. "That's the last time I let you hug me without making you sign a contract first." He was all innocence, something he was really bad at, and she giggled despite herself. "So where are we?"
"Dunno." She looked at him, shocked, but then realized he was teasing her. So she smacked him instead, but her hand went right through him. Damn convenient for him, she thought. He looked smug, but didn't comment. "Right." He spun around and sniffed the air like a bloodhound. "Thisaway."
They were on top of a tall, windswept hill and in the distance, Lydia saw the vivid blue of a tropical ocean. It was very warm, and she was glad she hadn't brought her shawl, even though she felt a little exposed. Beetlejuice beckoned to her and held out his arm in the semblance of a gentleman, and she cautiously took it, blinking a little nervously at him. "No more wormholes?"
He shook his head. "Not until we have to go home." At this, her knees quivered, but she settled with hoping the evening turned out nice and long. He grinned a very cheeky grin and strolled down the hill, tugging her gently along beside him.
"Where are we going, B?" By this time she was just trying to surprise him into an answer, but he started to whistle off key instead. She bumped against him with her hip, and he pinned her arm with one hand and reached around with the other to tuck her in closed, so that she had to lean on him for balance. "This is—awkward, B," she grunted in protest, but he didn't even look at her this time.
"I've had six hundred years to practice walkin', Lyds. Catchin' me off balance would be… rare." But he loosened his tight hold, leaving an arm around her, hand resting on her hip. This felt familiar to her, and she smiled to herself. Odd that it felt so familiar. But the good kind of odd.
Over a rise, Lydia saw a huge plantation house perched on the side of the hill. She glanced curiously at her strange companion, but he blithely ignored her. They walked through a garden gate and into a small gazebo. A table was laid out with fruit and drink, all sorts of things. And sitting at the table was a beautiful woman in a long old fashioned green dress. Lydia stared again, and then made a small sound of disbelief. Beetlejuice tugged her along, and unable to suppress a grin, bowed to the lady. "Eleanor, this is Miss Lydia Deetz." He turned to her then, and, with a gleam of unmistakable triumph, said, "Lyds, this is Eleanor, the ghost of the Olde Bryan Inn. Surprised you, didn't I?" Lydia could only nod, her mouth still hanging open. He reached up and gently tucked his fingertip under her chin. "Thought you might have some questions." Lydia looked shyly at the great lady.
"BeeJay tells me, Lydia, that you were curious about my story. I'll tell you whatever you would like to know." She smiled a kind, welcoming smile, and Lydia sat down next to her, her eyes sparkling.
"This is such an honor! I've been reading about you, but all the accounts are so sparse!"
"Ah, but the establishment is very old, and many people have come through those doors. I have to be careful, of course, because I will not be the one to provide proof of the existence of the Afterlife. Bryan and I have both been very careful."
"Bryan?"
"The original owner, the first settler at the spring. He wanted to come, but could not be here. Business." She said that the same way that women say the word 'men,' when they are fondly exasperated. As Lydia settled into the conversation, Beetlejuice felt rather pleased with himself. He grabbed a bottle of old Caribbean rum and a few apples, settled himself in a large canvas chair, and watched them like a contented cat, slowly draining the bottle glass by glass.
When it was time for dinner, Lydia was glowing, and Beetlejuice was three sheets to the wind, which is to say, very much like he usually was. Eleanor was a wonderful storyteller, and kept them both entertained with stories of the Revolutionary war, which was before her time, and the Industrialization, which was after. They ate cold chicken and cucumbers and tomatoes, and Lydia even had a sip or two of rum, which she proclaimed to be delicious, to Beetlejuice's delight. Finally, Eleanor turned to Lydia and said, in her musical voice, "Now Lydia, has BeeJay told you our history, then?" Beetlejuice jumped up, teetering a little off balance, and began to protest, but Eleanor wagged a finger at him.
He appealed to Lydia with a pathetic puppy dog look, but she just grinned at him, and looked back at Eleanor. "Please share!" Beetlejuice reached for her hand and squeezed it to get her attention. His skin seemed a little warmer than usual, with the heat of the sun and her glass of rum running pleasantly through her. She beamed laughingly at him, and he lost focus for just a moment, and then remembered what it was that he wanted to say.
"Aw, babe, that's all ancient history. Eleanor probably doesn't even remember it right."
"Ah, but I do, BeeJay. You just don't want me to tell her. Think it might put you in a less flattering light, eh?" Lydia laughed outright at this.
"Eleanor, I promise you that I have seen B at his absolute worst. In fact, he tried to trick me into marrying him, only a few days after we first met!" Beetlejuice dropped his head into his free hand at this revelation, as both women burst out laughing. He mumbled something about going inside the house, but Lydia wouldn't let go of his hand. He decided that he could endure this punishment, if he could just continue to hold her hand. So he subsided in a magnificent sulk as Eleanor began her narrative.
"Well, you see this house. It is beautiful, is it not?" Lydia nodded enthusiastically. "When my time was nearly up, I was trying to decide whether to stay or go. Since I had established an acceptable Class 1 Haunting, I could choose to stay on, and I did enjoy it so much. Well, BeeJay was hanging around New York at the time; he has always been particularly fond of that area, and I knew who he was. He had quite a… reputation. This was before his second meeting with the Administration, and he was not… quite as you see him now, but still very strong. And handsome." Beetlejuice looked pained and faded invisible, although Lydia could still feel his hand in hers, twitching slightly. I became quite fond of him, and assisted him more than once in a time of trouble."
"You locked me in the broom closet!" He whined, outraged. "That's not 'help'. That's imprisonment!"
"It was for your own good, BeeJay, as I'm sure you remember the governor's daughter? You could have been exorcised for that, you know."
"It was just a joke," he muttered sulkily. Eleanor smoothly continued, a sparkle in her eye.
"So after that danger was over, he kindly suggested that I needed a vacation." She laughed delicately, and Lydia was amazed to understand that this woman had thwarted Beetlejuice in one of his own schemes. She became twice as glad to know her, just as Beetlejuice looked twice as anxious to leave. He was casting about for an exit, but Eleanor ignored him. "He had come across this house, which had been recently vacated by a quiet gentleman ghost who had chosen to move on. And he politely suggested that I take it. And to both our surprise, I think, I accepted." She sighed softly and looked around her. "As you can see, it is so beautiful. I still travel to New England to keep up appearances, but this is my true home."
"Yeah, well, it suits you, El." He was back, if a bit sulky around the eyes, still.
"You know you are always welcome here. And you too, Lydia, if you don't mind the traveling. I have heard that it is rather… unprecedented… for mortals." At this she fixed Beetlejuice with a very firm, disapproving glare. Lydia stared at her, and then at him, and at the guilt that leeched off of him like fumes, and the bottom dropped out of her stomach.
"You! You didn't know if it would work? You … this was the first… Beetlejuice!"
"Whoa, hey! Enough with the B-word—no need to get nasty, now. You made it just fine, right? Well?" But Lydia was staring at him with angry disbelief etched on her features. Eleanor tutted him, and rose.
"Ah, my friend, you always had a way with the ladies." She leaned down and kissed Lydia on the cheek. "He would not harm you, Lydia. I think you know that. But he is wild and untamed, still after all this time. No one would even dare risk it, but he can do things that we most of us only dream about. So take it on faith that he knew you would be perfectly safe. Next time, perhaps he will let you make up your own mind about things." She straightened, a tall kindly figure against the bright blue sky. "You are always welcome here, my dear. And now I must go. The owners return, and while we can stay, you cannot." She clapped her hands and the banquet disappeared. Lydia stood and walked out of the gate, casting a look of hurt approbation behind her. Beetlejuice rose to follow, uncertain, and Eleanor took him by the shoulder. "She is lovely, you know. And smart. And strong. Very unusual combination for you." He shook his head.
"Dunno what she sees in me."
Eleanor leaned close to him, and kissed his cheek as well. "I do." And then she was gone, faded into the afternoon sun like an old photograph. There was nothing left for him to do but to chase after the girl that most likely never wanted to see him again.