On Thursday morning, Sarah rose from her bed and absentmindedly walked to the bouquet of Midnight Glories. She inhaled a long, deep drought of their rich, warm fragrance. Last night had been...nice. Hoggle, Didymus, and Ludo were a regular part of her life, but she had compartmentalized them from "the Labyrinth." Sarah still couldn't believe the Labyrinth and the Goblin King were back in her life. It had not been that long before her first confrontation with Jareth in her dreams, but it seemed that it was long enough ago that it had become...normal. It was now part of her day like school or theater. This must be how superheroes feel having a day-job and fighting baddies. Just another day at the office.
After dressing for school, she headed to her father's study to check her emails on the desktop computer.
There was only one unread; it was from
Andrea!
Dear Sarah
If you can visit today, please do; I have the dream catcher, and I want you to be as safe as possible as soon as possible.
Your friend,
Andrea.
Sarah would have her last final today, and tomorrow was the last day of school. Sarah just wanted to get through the end of the year without being abducted. She just wanted to make it to her senior year, to the chance to take a university audition. It seemed unbelievable to her that her dreams were just around the corner; she was almost done with high school. She was almost ready to pursue the thing she knew she was born to do, the thing she fantasized about almost every day. Getting into a top acting school would really be a dream come true. Sarah grew excited at the thought and began to daydream about graduation, wearing the cap and gown, picking out furniture for a college dorm...
So, why did she feel a little sad knowing she'd prevent Jareth from visiting her dreams. She remembered a talk Karen had given her when Sarah had gone on her first date; "There's 'love' and "in love." You can still love a person who isn't a healthy match for you; make sure you know the difference between loving a person and being in love with them."
Sarah supposed that was her relationship with the Labyrinth: she wanted to be a part of it, but she knew she belonged in the Aboveground
So she thought...
Her last final was psychology. Sarah had only taken the class to fill a social science credit and had been pleasantly pleased to find out it was an interesting course. Personally, she thought it should count as an AP class. She enjoyed how intensive the class was.
But, what she enjoyed most of all, was the fact she got to sit right next to Brad Chandler. He had sandy blond hair that always shone like silk, pearly whites in a knock-out smile that could make the strongest women swoon, and a jaw chiseled from marble. His eyes were dark blue, the dark blue of deep water and twilight skies. He wore polo shirts and an expensive watch, and he planned on studying law after high school. Brad had the look of a guy who had an all-access pass to daddy's money—yet, Sarah found that there was more to him. He loved to read and took every possible Literature and English class the school had to offer. While Sarah's classmates sniggered at poetry, Brad always has insightful interpretations and thoughts. His favorite writings were from the Enlightenment, whether they were novels with intricate plots or short, introspective essays.
He sat in the desk to her right. They never held long conversations, but they always made sure to have a little "chat" before class started. There was a maturity to him that other boys didn't have.
As far as a love life was concerned, Sarah didn't have one. She had been on three dates in her whole life—and had been asked on several more. No one grabbed her attention. No one interested her. Sarah wanted to date a man, not a little boy.
"So, do you think this'll be difficult?" he asked, giving her a grin that should win awards.
"I think it will be complex and a lot of information, but not difficult," Sarah said returning his smile.
"Sounds about right. Any fun summer plans?" he asked, setting up his pencils, eraser, and sharpened.
"I'll be auditioning for the community theater show and attending a summer theater program in the City. Now that Toby isn't an infant, my parents have talked about taking an extended weekend trip to somewhere. I don't know if it'll happen; they like to talk a lot," she said with a shrug.
"I understand that," he said, smiling sympathetically. "My parents are planning on some cookouts and I'm definitely planning some parties. You're invited to both! I'll let you know when they happen."
Sarah suppressed a blush. "Thank you."
Brad asked for her number, which she gladly gave him, and they took the final exam. Sarah surprised herself when she found it difficult to focus on her test rather than summer pool parties and bonfires...
Sarah stopped by her house after school to pack a dinner and leave a note that she was heading to the City a little early before dance. In what seemed like no time, the bell in Andrea's shop sang of Sarah's arrival. Andrea met her with a gentle hug and strong cup of tea.
"Nettles," said Andrea, "for strength."
Sarah thanked her, and they headed up to the second level.
"Is school almost over?" asked the elderly shopkeeper.
"Today was my last final and tomorrow is the last day. Thank goodness. I can't wait for summer. The closer it gets, the slower the days seem!"
Andrea gave a low chuckle. Sarah thought they would stop on the second floor, but Andrea walked over to the ladder leading into the open hatch in the ceiling. Andrea disappeared, but Sarah remained on the floor, unsure if she was supposed to follow.
"Come on up!" Andrea called cheerfully.
Sarah climbed the ladder and poked her head through the opening that was barely two-by-two feet.
The room was tiny, yet incredibly homey. Judging by sight, it was nine feet wide by eight feet deep. The hatch was flush against the right wall and almost equidistant between the back and front walls, lying closer to the front wall (that was, behind Sarah but toward the front of the shop). A futon in the back corner to Sarah's left seemed to be Andrea's place of sleep; were it unfolded, it would've taken up more than half of the "apartment." In the back right corner there was a minuscule round end-table with a lamp and thin bookshelf behind it that reached floor to ceiling—it was completely full. Tapestries of different fairytale scenes hung on the wall, softening the light of the lamp. Directly in front of Sarah was an old arm chair with stuffing sticking out from almost every-other inch; the faded rose-pink was practically tan with age. Sarah noticed a foldable chair stuck behind it. Sarah wondered if Andrea ever received company; or, rather, if she wished she received company and always made sure she was ready to host. This made Sarah sad. She wondered if there was some sort of society concerning magic, or at least other believers who sought Andrea's help.
In front of the futon stood a rickety, foldable wooden coffee table, and to the left of that was a wooden diner-style chair. Behind Sarah in the front corner to Sarah's right was a small, claw foot tub with a detached shower-head. In the front corner to Sarah's left was a small, two-by-two combined gas stove and oven. Between the stove and tub was a sink, and between the sink and oven was a folded collapsible TV-dinner tray. Sarah imagined Andrea standing at this tiny sink washing dishes and unfolding the tray to lay her dishes out to dry, whistling to herself.
"Well, come on in," beckoned Andrea. It was quite a juxtaposition, the queenly, dignified old woman in the bare-minimum apartment. Sarah supposed housing an archive in the City was not cheap. This space looked as though it was meant to be storage and had been transformed. Sarah noticed a tall, unlit, wire lamp in the back left corner behind the bed. Sarah didn't see a single light-switch or ceiling light.
Sarah lifted herself through the hatch, noticing the sound of crooner jazz music with a slight touch of static. Sarah located the source as an antique radio on the bookshelf wedged between the numerous volumes of whatever fantastic legends and folklore Andrea thought important enough to keep private from the downstairs public library.
Andrea was kneeling on the ground and reaching under her futon. She pulled out a short but long wooden box. Sarah wasn't sure if she should venture a look; what sort of magical items and ancient relics might the woman who had a preserved Nixie and Fairy skeleton have? Sarah stayed back while Andrea lifted the lid and pulled out the dream catcher.
It was larger than Sarah had expected. It was just larger than the circumference of Sarah's face and pure white. The white web woven within the circle frame glinted with a silvery tint. From two threads attached to the frame hung a tiny white conch shell no larger than a fingertip.
Andrea turned to Sarah and extended the delicate object, standing as she did so. "Authentic unicorn hair woven around elm and beech wood."
Sarah didn't want to take the dream catcher, for fear she would break it. The thread was so fine and the round frame was so thin. But, what consumed Sarah's mind most of all was the fact that unicorns were real. Were their horns really magic? Were they always pure white like the movies? If a genuine dream catcher was made from their hair, she supposed there had to be some magical properties to unicorns.
Sarah took the dream catcher and gently cradled it in her hands.
"It's beautiful. How does it work? Do I have to do something special?"
"Simply hang it on your westward bed post," said Andrea, "and make sure the opening of the conch faces West. That's a mermaid's conch; when you awake in the morning, turn the opening of the conch toward the East via the North."
Now there were mermaids, too? Sarah didn't know why she was surprised when she had already been bit by a fairy and had been chased by goblins...
"I'll be sure. Thank you, Andrea."
"You're so very welcome! Stop by sometime when you don't have to run off to a dance class!" said Sarah's elderly friend with a wink.
Ballet had gone great; Sarah had finished learning Swan Lake. She needed to do many run-throughs in order to piece it all together and master the fluidity of the show as a whole, but it was finished. Their performance would take place Friday through Sunday of the last weekend in May along with Mikel's private studio showcase. Sarah, like many, had opted to participate in the summer semester, which met at an earlier time of day and only twice a week, Tuesday and Thursday. Her private lessons would not adhere to a strict schedule, as Mikel toured in the summer, but she was guaranteed ten lessons across June, July, and August.
That night, Sarah made sure to position the dream catcher according to Andrea's instructions. She laid he head on her pillow and found she couldn't shut her eyes to rest. She was uneasy; she didn't want to have a false sense of security. The dream catcher was such a small and delicate thing; could it really have the power to keep someone as powerful as the Goblin King away? Sarah eventually found rest, the cobwebs of sleep clouding her mind and catching her thoughts like flies before they reached her consciousness.
Jareth pranced through the throne room, a confident pep in his step. He pulled a black riding glove onto his right hand with his already dressed left hand. A tall goblin in official red robes followed behind.
"Sire, the ten-year council is right around the corner," said the goblin in a high-pitched, nervous voice, "should you really be stepping out so often so near to such an event?"
Jareth spun around quickly to face the comparatively more humanoid goblin, so quickly the goblin ran smack into his king, face meeting stomach.
"Dreidel, are you inferring you can run this kingdom better than I can?" the king asked smugly.
The goblin, whose name was Darell, briskly started backwards, afraid to receive a box on the ears for running into his monarch. But, Jareth only seemed mildly annoyed.
"N-n-no, your majesty," said Darrell tapping nervously on his note-taking scroll, "simply making sure there's nothing I needto do, since it is so near. You seem rather lax about the proceedings this time around."
Darell was the king's advisor, as he was both knowledgeable and wise (for a goblin, and Jareth couldn't deal with the lento tempo of the Wise Man unless the situation was dire). Sometimes Jareth called his advisor Daren or Darwin, just to show his superiority and that he need not remember his subordinates' names. But, he knew every goblin's name by heart. every goblin's profession, and every goblin's face. He never could keep track of them all, and often forgot who lived where and who followed what schedule. However, the only schedule that really mattered was his own, and the goblins happily obliged to that. They wanted a ruler, someone to turn the tumultuous chaos into organized chaos, and Jareth was not only a good ruler but a fun one as well; he'd catapult them across the room in a mighty kick, he'd push a lucky recipient out a window, and he'd even join in their merry pranks. Years and years ago, those of more power in his gentry scoffed at his "canoodling" with the "lesser folk;" but, Jareth enjoyed the goblins. They were dear to his heart, though their daftness would wear on him.
"You're fine, Darell," Jareth said with a sarcastic single pat on the head, knocking the writing quill twisted into Darell's single tuft of hair that stuck out the top of his head like a candle wick.
Darell nervously picked up his quill as Jareth disappeared in a poof if glitter. There was not a single thing Darell did without a nervous tick. They could be relaxing at Horvath Sea being pleasured by mermaids and Darell would seem nervous as a pound puppy with an ever-shaky voice to match.
Poof!
The Goblin King appeared once more, materializing onto the throne as if he'd been tossed there like a dirty sock, as if he hadn't meant to make a return, landing awkwardly low in the seat.
Jareth quickly sat up in the throne and adjusted his cloak, embarrassed (not that the goblins noticed or cared about travel finesse). He cleared his throat and teleported off again, only to be thrust back by some invisible force in the universe.
"Odd..." said Jareth, beginning to pace around the throne room. Darell followed behind at Jareth's heel like a blood hound, unsure of what was going on. A nearby goblin saw the closeness of the advisor's trailing and grew nervous, and so fell in line behind Darell. It wasn't long before two more followed suit, and soon a comical train of goblins chugged its way around the throne room, its engine not noticing the tail behind him. Most of them mimicked their King's deep thinking, stroking their chins and saying "hmmm," though they could not think deeper than a courtyard puddle.
Jareth could not think of a reason his entry to Sarah's dreams was forbidden. He summoned a crystal to his hand and looked at her house; nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He zoomed into her room. He outwardly smiled smugly and inwardly smiled genuinely with a little flutter of his heart at the sight of the midnight glories; she had kept them. The room looked the same...then he saw it, stopping in his tracks.
The dream catcher.
The line of goblins, now spanning the full circumference of the throne room pit, fell in a domino-like fashion. The ones who had joined at the end of the line had done so without purpose, other than thinking the mimicking looked fun fell cackling.
Jareth frowned; where did she get that? Indigenous peoples often sold dream catchers; their spirituality made them powerful, but they were nothing like this. This was magic.
Jareth grumbled and went to slump in his throne. He kicked a nearby goblin, all black fur and red class, across the room to placate his anger.
He summoned a peach from his garden to his hand.
"Sire; a peach? I don't think that will wor—
"Tell the baker she's needed immediately," Jareth cut him off.
Just some writing fun facts and discussions.
Man, describing Jareth's castle last chapter was kind of tough. We don't get any really good close up shots, and it's shaped so strangely. Whenever I describe something, I sketch it out; that definitely helped for Andrea's apartment room; I should've done it for describing the museum/library itself.
And, I love Jareth and the goblins. I imagine Jareth came from a very well-to-do family concerned with propriety, but he was rebellious and was sneaking out after-hours at 14 years old to go make mischief with the goblins. I can imagine him as a teenager going with his goblin friends to steal another goblin's chickens—which is all in good fun like capture the flag, because they're all community chickens anyhow, so no one really loses anything.
