Chapter 11: Questions, Questions
Lydia groaned, surfing through the mind-numbing, completely insufferable selection of channels on Beetle's TV. Unfortunately, Beetle's reluctant admittance of a certain fondness for her had sent him grumbling straight out his front door without her. Even more to her dismay, was that the laughably huge locks that kept her imprisoned hadn't budged from their stance on his front door, due to the fact that they had momentarily retracted only for the poltergeist himself.
Hours had passed and dusk had fallen upon the Neitherworld, leaving Lydia alone and feeling completely stir crazy. At least the house was clean, she thought, trying to look on the bright side of an otherwise dismal situation. Another potential positive was that he didn't hate her, or things may have been far, far worse for her.
After looking at what had to be the thousandth pair of boobs that had flashed across his television, Lydia winced in disgust, turning it off and tossing the remote on the couch. Sure, he was vulgar and remarkably ill-mannered, but Beetlejuice really wasn't all that bad. Lydia wandered about the roadhouse, studying his living space as she toured its rooms and hallways.
As terribly as she hated to admit it, she began to feel even more curious about the mysterious poltergeist. The more she pondered on his strange personality and antics, the more she began to question things about him...and herself. Beetle may have viewed her as a comrade in some way, but why was getting his on his good side such a confusing experience? Obviously, as she'd come to realize, he wasn't comfortable with her ability to be amicable. That definitely explained the outbursts, but it didn't explain why he was so uncomfortable in the first place. She also found herself pondering over why he wanted out so badly. That was a question he had simply refused to answer.
She wandered into his bedroom, her eyes tracing over the area. With the exception of his bed, not much else could be noted about the furniture (or lack thereof) within the room. Only a small endtable with a crooked lamp sat beside it, and Lydia then realized that she had never snooped inside of its drawers, mostly because before she couldn't have cared less about it. However, she felt particularly nosey at the moment, and so she quietly slid the top drawer open.
After discovering an abundance of nudie magazines, a half-used bottle of lotion, and a wrinkled up pair of panties, Lydia gasped, quickly slamming the offending drawer shut. God, he was gross.
Surely there was more to him than that, she thought, swallowing back her disgust and eyeing the bottom drawer.
Already wincing, as if bracing herself for something even more scarring to be inside, Lydia gingerly pulled the second drawer open. She sighed, relieved that it was mostly filled with junk that didn't have anything to do with sex. Lydia dug through its contents, the vast majority of them being old newspaper clippings of obituaries. They were most likely of people he'd tried to convince to use his services, no doubt.
Recognizing the name "Maitland" on one of the clippings, Lydia picked up the obituary of her ghostly guardians, noting that Beetle had scribbled large "X's" over their eyes. Lydia smirked. Hopefully his resentment for them had died down a bit over the years.
Continuing to sift through his junk drawer, her index finger grazed a circular, smooth object. Her eyes widened, as she grasped the object, pulling it out.
"...He still has it?" Lydia mumbled to herself, eyeing the tarnished old ring she remembered from her past. Hadn't she thrown that down the large, gaping hole that the Sandworm had created? Did he find it somehow?
She held the ring in her hand, feeling that familiar twinge of guilt well up inside of her. Now that she was personally familiar with the afterlife, Lydia had learned early on that Sandworms were no laughing matter. The memory of Beetle being swallowed up by that monster seemed even worse now. Lydia then considered herself lucky not to have seen Beetle's full wrath. He certainly could have destroyed her at any point. Of course, he hadn't. He wasn't nearly as cruel or heartless as he'd led her to believe. Somehow, deep down, Lydia could sense that there was far more to the ghost than he'd let on. If she'd ever be able to witness more than just his surface layer, she wasn't sure of, however.
A loud bang of the front door alerted Lydia that he'd returned. She quickly dropped the ring back into the drawer and closed it before leaving his room.
"BJ? Is that you?" she called, following the clammering sounds from the other side of the roadhouse.
"Yeah, yeah, Deetz...It's me...The fuck do you care?" he spat, as she entered the living room, noting that he seemed even more disheveled than usual.
Not another tantrum, she thought to herself, sighing. "Are you really doing this again?" she remarked, feeling a bit tired of his repetitive bouts of anger.
"Doin' what, Deetz?" he growled, his green eyes narrowing in on her.
"This!" she huffed, throwing out her arms, and feeling exasperated. "This whole raging thing! Don't you think it's a bit much?"
Beetle glared, crossing his arms. "Oh, believe me, Toots. This ain't even close to much! I could do a lot worse, Babe."
Lydia rolled her eyes. " Yeah, I'm aware of that. I just don't know why you went storming off for no good reason! I just don't know what I said to piss you off so much..."
Suddenly, Beetlejuice seemed to be caught off guard a bit. His arms slowly dropped back to his sides. "Who said I was pissed?"
Lydia then placed a hand on her hip, shooting him a look that clearly said you were so pissed and I know it.
Beetle just growled, clearly showing a lack of anything to say for once.
"Come on, BJ! Just admit it!" Lydia smirked, finding herself suddenly amused by his reluctance. Of course, she also found herself deeply curious as to why he was mad in the first place. She had a sneaking suspicion it was her admittance of some sort of friendship between the two of them, for some wierd reason.
"It ain't none of yer business why I'm pissed, Deetz." he grinned deviously, now wriggling his grimy fingers. "Ah' course, if you don't want to keep yer mouth shut about it, I can do it for ya."
Oh, he really didn't want to talk about it, whatever it was. This only made Lydia's urges to prod him for answers multiply tenfold. She didn't quite understand why, but she found herself completely fixated on his inner-workings for some odd reason. Okay, she was definitely insane by this point, she figured. She reasoned that it was very likely he'd glue her trap shut, but she'd give it a different approach, nonetheless.
"I know it's not, but...Why'd you have to leave me here alone?" she asked bluntly, evoking a surprised expression from Beetle.
"What?" he asked, dumbfounded.
"Well...It's just...It sucks being here with nothing to do all day. Where were you, anyway?" Lydia asked, her tone even surprising herself, as she sounded not unlike an angry housewife. Maybe that was a bit much, after all. Of course, she genuinely was wanting to know his whereabouts, which was a truly disturbing thing. Yep, no returning from that kind of crazy.
"Why ya wanna know?" Beetle answered with a question, sounding leary. He was awfully defensive.
"Because...Maybe I wanted to go, too." Lydia pouted, waiting to see his reaction.
Beetlejuice grinned devilishly, stepping up to her. "Well, Sweetcheeks, unless you wanna go to the strip club, I suggest you shut it."
Lydia genuinely frowned, much to her personal distaste. That couldn't possibly be all he cared about! She knew better, didn't she? Why did she care again? Maybe being cooped up with the likes of Beetlejuice was taking a toll on her mental state more than she'd realized. She needed to get out, and fast. "Well...Could you take me somewhere, then?"
"Errr...wut?" Beetle stammered.
"Please? I'm feeling like a caged animal in here, BJ!" Lydia whined, hoping she could actually get out of her own personal prison for a bit.
"Ah, hell...Fine, Deetz. I'd rather take ya somewhere than listen to you bellyache all day..." he grumbled, looking none too pleased. "Where do ya wanna go?"
Lydia smiled widely, happy to hear his words. She then thought for a moment, running various ideas through her head, before answering him. "Is there a movie theatre anywhere?"
Beetle glared firmly ahead, feeling as uncomfortable as hell. Why Lydia had wanted to walk to the movies was beyond him, but just being around the woman at this point was beginning to make his fucking hair stand on end (even more than it already was). Just hearing her, touching her, or even listening to her was doing some crazy shit to his psyche right about now, and he wasn't one bit happy with it. Feelings were not something he remotely wanted to think about. Extremely mushy, sappy feelings were even worse.
"Um...You okay, BJ?" Lydia asked, stepping closer to him.
Beetle stepped farther away from her, grunting. "Yeah..." Shit, why did her voice sound so...nice? Why was everything about this chick so fucking awesome? Why did he need to run from her ass like she was the plague just to keep from acting like a lovesick pussy around her? He was the ghost with the most, after all. He was sleezy, crooked, and full of malice. People, both living and dead, hated his ass. Hell, he had a reputation to uphold! He couldn't go squandering it on Lydia-freakin'-Deetz, of all people!
Lydia remained silent for a moment. "You sure? You still look like you're in a rotten mood..." she asked hesitantly.
Geeze, couldn't the woman just back off for once? It wasn't like she really cared, anyway. Beetlejuice couldn't remember a time in his afterlife when anyone remotely gave two fucks about him, and he doubted Lydia was an exception. If anything, women despised his ass. Even the paid broads weren't exactly thrilled to see him. This was probably some lame attempt at being civil toward him just to get her way, and unfortunately since she held his balls firmly in her grasp, it was working. Not really knowing how to react, Beetle simply did what he did best: be a complete and total smartass about it. He planted a big, fake smile on his face. "There...better, Deetz?" he growled, his eyes daring her to say another word.
She looked in another direction, not sassing him in any way. Wise choice. Her pitiful expression was definitely not bothering him in the least. Nope. Totally not giving him any grief.
The two walked in silence for a bit, before she decided to open her mouth again. Shit! This chick would not give up!
"So...Any good movies playing? Or do you go to the theatre much?" Lydia asked, changing the subject, much to Beetle's relief.
"No idea, Deetz, and yeah, sometimes, but the hookers usually want extra to sit through it with me...Shit gets expensive, yaknowwhutImean?" he shrugged.
"You pay prostitutes to sit through movies with you?" Lydia frowned as she spoke, the emotion in her voice sounding strangely unsettling to him. What was it with this chick?
"Well, not exactly the amount they want, but it keeps 'em from kickin' me in the family jewels, ya know?" he grinned, seeing the theater sign in the distance. "Look, Deetz! We came at the right time. One of mah favorite movies is playin'!" he cackled, grabbing her by the arm and hurrying her along. Even if this chick was tormenting his mind twenty-four-seven, at least a good movie would make things seem termporarily less fucked up.
Lydia seated herself beside Beetlejuice in the theatre, a disgusted look falling over her features as he held a bucket of green popcorn topped with insects. He looked to her, leaning the bucket of unsavory food in her direction. "Want some?" he asked, grinning from ear-to-ear.
"Uh...No, thanks..." Lydia mumbled, edging away from his nasty snack. Her eyes moved about the theatre, noting that it was insanely large and held quite the crowd. "I still can't believe you're a fan of Titanic..."
"Oh, yeah! Love it, Babe! One of mah personal favs!" he chortled, throwing a gob of popcorn and dead bugs in his mouth. Beetlejuice actually enjoyed Titanic, Lydia pondered to herself. Titanic - a dramatic movie about disaster, heartbreak, and love, of all things. Beetlejuice. Liked. Titanic. There were no words to describe just how weird and disturbing that fact was.
"BJ, could you keep it down?" Lydia whispered, hunkering down in her seat from embarassment. Beetle continued cackling hysterically, spewing food and bug parts in the air and slapping his knee. Lydia looked warily about herself, noting the irritated faces of the other moviegoers.
"Keep it down? You gotta be fuckin' kidding me, Babe! Wait, wait! Here's one of the best parts..." he trailed off, watching with much satisfaction as a man fell from the ship, splattered against the giant propeller, and fell limp into the ocean. "HAHAHAHAHA! Now that's what I call comedy gold, eh?" he whooped, nudging her with his elbow.
"It's not a comedy, you moron!" Lydia hissed, trying to quiet him amid the atmosphere of steadily growing irritation and disapproval. Angry murmurs and shushes came from the crowd, but he blissfully ignored them.
Beetle shot her a look. "Well, if it's not a comedy, then it's the funniest fuckin' tragedy I've ever seen in mah life!" he burst out in maniacal laughter. Now his love for Titanic made perfect sense, though Lydia desperately wished it wasn't so. God, he was an imbecile.
"Hey, lady! Can't you tell your boyfriend to keep his big trap shut? He's ruining the movie for everyone!" a large, muscle-bound biker with a knife lodged in his throat growled.
Lydia groaned, turning to Beetlejuice, who paused a moment, before turning to glare at the huge, intimidating man. "BJ, be quiet! You're gonna cause us to get thrown out of here!" Lydia scolded, though the poltergeist completely dismissed her, solely focused on his new target.
"Can it, Sugartits." Beetle growled, flicking his wrist, as Lydia found herself being bound by a black and white striped rope, pinned back into her seat.
"Shut it, you asshole!" the man yelled, standing and pointing toward Beetle. "I can either watch this in peace or I can throw you out on your ass if you'd like."
"If it makes ya feel any better, the bitch let's him sink in the end! Funniest damned thing I've ever seen! The only complaint I have is that she lived to tell about it!" Beetlejuice cackled hysterically, causing the man to further rage.
"Alright, that's it, you little bastard!" the huge fellow roared, stomping his way toward Beetle's seat.
"You wanna get me, you'll have ta' catch me first..." Beetlejuice smirked, disappearing in a green cloud of sickening smoke.
Lydia struggled against her bonds, scanning the theatre full of frustrated patrons for the presence of the poltergeist. Seeing that he was nowhere to be found, she sighed, feeling completely stupid for requesting going to the movies with him. When would she learn?
"Look, Babe, I'm famous!" Beetle's voice blared from the speakers, as his crusty form sat among the unfortunate crew members on a lifeboat. He cackled, pushing an old woman from the boat into the icy depths. "Don't worry, s'all special effects and shit."
The biker stopped dead in his tracks, turning to Lydia. "What's with this lunatic?" he muttered, dumbfounded.
"Your guess is as good as mine..." Lydia sighed, shaking her head.
Beetlejuice then grinned, turning his index finger into a drill, before sticking it to the floor of the lifeboat. The other crew members began to scream, as Beetle pulled his finger up, and a large surge of water began spurting up from the hole he'd made. He chuckled, "Pretty good, huh? Well, you guys ain't seen nothin' yet..." He then looked briefly to Lydia and winked, before the ship sank, leaving the actors flailing about helplessly in the icy cold water.
"Hypothermia's a real bitch, am I right?" he grinned, floating above the unfortunate actors, as freezing water began bursting from the movie screen.
"Oh, god..." Lydia gasped, squinting hard and bracing herself for the severe discomfort she was about to experience. Only, she didn't experience any discomfort. At all. She didn't even feel the tight pressure of the rope against her body at this point.
Exhaling and opening her eyes, Lydia realized that she was standing on the pavement under a streetlamp with the movie theatre in the distance. Suddenly, a flood of water gushed out of the entrance, washing the crowd out into the parking lot. Angry yells and curses arose from various places among them, prompting Lydia to swiftly walk farther away from the theatre, fearing their wrath, should they spot her. Beetle would have to catch up later. He would know her whereabouts anyway. He somehow always knew where she was lately.
"Hey, where ya' goin?!" his rough, gravelly voice belted from behind her, though she turned to see nothing but the dark of night. When she turned back to the direction she'd originally been walking, she locked eyes with the poltergeist, who was currently wearing a wet captain's hat with a picture of an anchor on the front of it.
"I have to say, some movies are just better the second time around, Babe. Ya get to see all the things ya missed the first time, ya know?" Beetlejuice grinned, tossing his soggy hat away, as she watched it unceremoniously splat on the ground.
Lydia looked warily to the crowd of freezing, stumbling ghouls in the distance. "Are they going to be alright?" she asked, hesitantly.
"Ah 'course they will, Dollface! Probbly the best damned experience they've had!" he snorted.
"Yeah, well maybe next time you won't piss off a biker during the movie." Lydia chuckled, running a hand through her long hair. Then, she remembered what the furious man said to her, feeling completely silly and a bit disturbed. "I can't believe he thought I was your girlfriend," she blurted out, partially talking to herself.
"What's so unbelievable about it, Deetz?" Beetlejuice asked her plainly, an unreadable expression befalling his features. What? She was beginning to feel really weird right about now.
"Uh..." Lydia mumbled, before Beetle paused and grew silent.
"Shhh...Babe, I feel it. Ole' Jerryboy is callin' on me...Oh...so close..." he began to smirk, rubbing his hands together hungrily while licking his mossy lips. "...Two...and...C'mon, Deetz!" he yelled, grabbing her and pulling her into him, before the two vanished on the spot.
Lydia opened her eyes, finding herself in a skin-tight leather party dress and thigh-high leather boots to match. Lydia sighed, instantly realizing that Beetle had decided to dress her again. Loud music was blaring throughout her surroundings, as drunken and boisterous young adults partied all about her.
"Nice, ain't it?" Beetlejuice spoke in her ear, spooking her and causing her to jump. She whipped around, to find him dressed in a dusty red robe, with a pair of shades on and a cigar in his mouth. He quickly brushed by her, briskly entering the crowd.
"Hey! Where are you going?" Lydia called, grabbing his attention.
He turned, pulling down his shades and flashing a wicked grin. "The ole' B-man wants to meet his future wife!"