Disclaimer: Beetlejuice and all related characters belong to Warner Bros. I wouldn't take responsibility for BJ if you paid me. No way, baby.

Chapter 4: Puzzle

Lydia woke suddenly, and looked groggily around the room, not certain what she would find. But everything seemed to be in order. She climbed out of bed in the dim morning light, grabbed her robe, and stumbled to the bathroom that was adjacent to her room. That was a nice touch. Pros: the room had a bathroom. On the large mirror was scrawled the same series of incomprehensible numbers, letters, and punctuation as on the Polaroid. In Sharpie marker. Cons: the room had a poltergeist who didn't ask before it borrowed art supplies. She would take the bathroom and leave the ghost, thank you very much.

But as she dressed, she tucked the photo into her pocket, thinking that she should attempt an untapped resource at school—her classmates. At least they already thought she was weird at school, and she wouldn't be ruining her reputation.

To her surprise, at lunchtime quite a large crowd gathered around her when she asked if there was anything strange about the house. A boy named Will and two sisters named Denise and Wendy had particular stories to tell. Will delivered for the local pizzeria, and had seen a few very strange things.

"I remember," he was saying. "one time when I was taking a coupl'a pies up the hill, there was this huge wind, and it was really cold, but it was summer, you know? And then when I got to the house the Portland's—um, that's who lived there before you, but anyway, they said that they hadn't ordered pizza, but they had, because we have callerID, and it was their house alright, but Mrs. Portland got really mad and wouldn't pay, so I took them back." His blue eyes got really wide, and there was a hushed silence around the table. "And then when I got back to the car, I opened the bag, and the pizzas were gone! So I just got the hell out of there, but Bobby was pissed, and he made me pay for them. But it was the ghost!" His voice was full of such conviction that Lydia nodded in agreement to soothe him. For her part, she entirely agreed with him. But it wouldn't do to spill her cards all at once.

"But that's not the best story!" chimed in one of the sisters. Lydia thought it was Wendy. She claimed the attention of the gathered students with practiced ease, and Lydia was pulled along with them. "The scariest thing that ever happened was the night before the Portlands left. There was this huge storm, and the power went out in that big old farmhouse. Mrs. Portland came running out in the storm and down the hill, screaming at the top of her voice that the house was haunted. My dad was driving by—he's the sherrif, and he was driving up to the house to check things out…" At this, the girl's voice filled with self-importance, and Lydia resisted any eyebrow movement. "And Mrs. Portland was yelling like she had gone crazy, something about the books in the library, and that Mr. Portland was locked in one of the upstairs rooms—"

"Which one?" Lydia couldn't help herself; she had to ask. Wendy paused and thought for a moment.

"It was the one on the end—it has a window that you can see from the town?"

"That's my room." A deep silence fell like a curtain over the students, and a few gave her frightened looks. But she nodded to the girl. "What happened?"

"Um, well, my dad was looking up at the window and he saw a face. But it wasn't Mr. Portland! Something… horrible! Like an animal, but pure white! And when he got into the house, the books were all over the floor, and Mr. Portland was pounding on the door…" The girl took a breath. "He was okay, you know, but really scared. They left the next day. And no one has dared live there since."

"Until you." Denise, the other sister, looked at Lydia soberly. "So have you seen anything strange?" Lydia debated a moment, but then decided that the stories might dry up if she admitted to anything that had gone on there. Her fingers, tucked into her pocket, brushed against the photograph, and she got an idea.

"No, I haven't seen anything, but I found something written on the wall last night that was weird." She pulled a piece of paper and wrote the letters and numbers out from memory, since she had had ample time to study them this morning while doing her hair. Everyone eagerly crowded around her, but soon a puzzled silence fell. This was not what they had been hoping for. Possibly they were holding out for 'I killed Mary Jane with her own shoelaces.'

"What is it?" said Will, finally.

"I don't know. I was hoping someone would know what those meant." A few of the students, after looking at it, glanced skeptically at Lydia and walked away. Will shrugged.

"Just letters and numbers. Looks like nonsense." But Denise tugged the paper closer and peered at it.

"These might be coordinates on a map. That's a degree sign, and the marks for feet and inches. But this isn't latitude longitude." She studied it for a few moments, and then shook her head. "You should ask Mr. Burke." At Lydia's puzzled glance, she added, "The science teacher. He knows everything."

"Maybe it's where the treasure is buried!" squealed Wendy excitedly.

"There's treasure?" asked Lydia, puzzled. Wendy shrugged.

"Well, if the house is haunted, there has to be some reason, right? Maybe the ghost buried some treasure and then died before he could dig it up!" Denise was looking skeptical, but Will nodded.

"It's possible. Tell us what you find out, Lydia?" His smile was slightly warmer than she had remembered. She had to stop herself from curling her lip at them both, and nodded carefully instead. AH, nothing like a little buried treasure story to bring everybody closer together.

As it turned out, Mr. Burke did not know everything. After school Lydia stayed after, her newfound notoriety gaining her several appraising looks. She caught Mr. Burke as he was locking his classroom.

"Excuse me? I'm Lydia Deetz?" Mr. Burke, a large, gruff, red-faced man, nodded at her.

"What can I do for you, Lydia Deetz?"

She gave him a hopefully winning smile, and lied like a dog. "I was working on a project and came across this, and I don't know what it means. Someone told me it might be coordinates?" He took the paper, studied it for a moment, and then nodded.

"These are coordinates for something in space. RA means right ascension, and DC is declination. H for hours, M for minutes, S for seconds."

Lydia nodded, feeling a little buzz of excitement. "Oh! But what is it?" But he frowned.

"Haven't the slightest, offhand. Should be easy enough to find. Look for the celestial charts in the library. Is that all?" She nodded, and he waved goodbye and took off down the hall, leaving her clutching the notebook paper. To her chagrin, the library was already closed. So she was closer, but not close enough. But so much for the buried treasure theory. Pool Will. He probably wouldn't ask her to the prom now. Darn.

A quiet idea began to circulate in her head. She might be able to communicate with this ghost, if she played her cards right. And to her surprise, the metaphor fit. This was nothing if not a game. She tugged at her bottom lip as she walked out of the empty school, and took the long way home, by the electronics store, just to think.