Chapter 4
As it ended up, he had to wait over two weeks, as he had quite by accident zapped the ouija board in the very back of Fantasy's closet. She found it when she was on her knees in her closet, searching for the tallest pumps she could find.
Fantasy was an enigma to her husband Eddie, but it was all too glaringly obvious to Fantasy herself, no matter how she tried to push it back. She couldn't let go of her youth. She had been the star in high school and college, prom queen, captain of the cheerleaders, best dressed, prettiest, smartest, funniest, coolest. She had dated the captain of the football team, and then gotten engaged to her present husband, the college's official Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome. She had had it all, but over the years, it all vanished, and she was left with nothing, because her life had been centered in school.
So she tried to relive it, dressing in the styles that teens liked at the moment, which was not a way that was appropriate for a wife and mother. She tried to impress all her daughter's friends that came over by acting like one of them, and was scorned for her efforts. She tried to act the part of a diva still. And because she knew that Sara would not have fit in with the clique that Fantasy had been part of, she treated her daughter with scorn.
She knew it was wrong. But she couldn't help it.
So Fantasy was in an unusually foul mood that day when she was digging in her closet. She had heard her daughter's friends snickering about how 'weird' she was when they thought she wasn't listening. But she was always listening, for compliments and insults alike. You couldn't hide them from her.
She slapped around in the dark closet, searching for her shoe's mate, when she knocked the board over. Curious, she dragged it out. Her mascara and eyeliner ridden eyes widened.
"An ouija board?" she asked herself. "I don't recall ever seeing this before!"
She noticed a yellowed note on its surface and read it aloud. "Use me!" it read. She frowned and tapped her dark red lips.
"I've always wondered about ghosts and such," she mused. "I wonder if this is one's way of trying to communicate with me!"
She peered at it closer. Just barely visible, like it was a natural part of the grain of the wood, was the word Betelgeuse.
"Hmm. Bettelgoose?" Fantasy asked herself. "Beetlegeeze?" Fantasy put the board under her arm and marched over to the computer, a strange light in her eyes. Sitting down, she typed the name quickly into a search engine, and waited for results.
"Hmm. Beetlejuice! (1) What an unpleasant word. I wonder why it's spelled so strangely. Oh well, perhaps it is Latin. Beetlejuice (2). I wonder why that was on the board? Perhaps it's just a coincidence, maybe it just looks funny, warped by time or some such."
She picked up the board and peered at it again, troubled. "No, the word Beetlejuice (3) is definitely – what was that?!"
Her only answer was a manic cackle of triumph.
--
Beetlejuice swirled up towards the ceiling, rolling and cackling in his pure joy. He was out! He was free! Temporarily of course – oh shit. Where was the woman?!
He spotted her collapsed on the floor staring around wildly, her spindly limbs out at awkward angles. She stood up and looked around.
"Beetle –" she started tentatively.
Beetlejuice panicked. He launched himself forward, grabbed Fantasy around the waist, and laid a deep one on her, squeezing her ass while he was at it. He suddenly dropped her and let her lay where she fell, as she sputtered in rage and kicked her heels against the floor like a spoiled child. Beetlejuice laughed, and then started speaking as fast as he could, trying to keep her from saying his name again.
"Hey, I gotta thank ya Babe! Ya didn't have to let me out, but ya did! Lord, you've got a big mouth, I was starting to wonder if you even had tonsils, had my tongue in there and it just seemed to never end! I've been waiting for weeks, didn't think you'd ever find the board I sent you! Speaking of which I'll just take that ouija board back, you really don't need that anymore anyways!"
He paused talking for a moment to shove the board into his pocket for safekeeping.
"Anyways, you're an awful kisser, put too much energy in flailing your arms, and not your tongue, whassa matter, don't you know how to flap that thing?"
Fantasy interrupted his monologue with a long, drawn out scream. Nearly five minutes later, her scream petered out.
"You got a good set of lungs there, mind if I ruin 'em for ya?" Beetlejuice cackled, lighting a cigarette.
"Beet –"
He leaped forward, menace glaring out of his green eyes.
Yes, his eyes are green. Ringed with black. Moldy man. Scary man. Dead. Dead. Dead, was the basic pattern of Fantasy's thoughts.
Beetlejuice came up with an ingenious plan while staring at this chick. He stood back and snapped his fingers. Fantasy's head was briefly illuminated, and then suddenly, a word was robbed from her.
"I – I –" she stammered, feeling a small emptiness in her mind where the monster's name used to be.
Beetlejuice roared in triumph. Fantasy crumpled to the floor.
He stared at her a moment, then quickly looked around. Seeing no one, he ducked suddenly, and lifted up her skirt.
After staring a suitable length of time, and making some appreciative noises, he glanced around, then rose up through the ceiling, taking care to make himself invisible.
He found himself staring at Sara again. Just noticeable on her arm, were some poorly written words, stating, "I'm a B!tch!" He groaned, and floated up another floor.
This time, he saw Lydia, staring at the model of the town, ancient and dusty by now. Just for a moment, he had eyes only for her. But gradually he noticed two other presences.
That hick couple, the Maitlands.
He felt his eyes turn red. First things first though. He snapped his fingers, trying out his new trick. To his joy, they all three sat up straight, exchanging startled glances.
"I think I forgot to do something important . . ." Adam murmured, holding his head.
Without a second thought, he sent them to Saturn.
Lydia sat up and screamed, looking around frantically.
Cackling, Beetlejuice made himself visible. Why bother hiding? Not like she could send him back now! He stretched out his arms to her, waggling his fingers.
"Come here and gimme a hug! I missed you babe!" BJ said crooning, an insane light in his eyes.
"Pervert!" Lydia screeched. "What have you done to them?"
"Done to who, babe?" Beetlejuice asked innocently.
"The Maitlands, you freak!"
Beetlejuice kept himself from showing how much that hurt, and smiled at her lazily. "The who's?" he asked.
"The Maitlands! The people you just made disappear!!" she shrieked, her fury reaching fever pitch from his taunting.
"What did I make disappear?" Beetlejuice asked.
Lydia sat down, drained. Then she stood up, eyes narrowed. "You're a pervert," she said. "You're a pervert for wanting to marry a sixteen year-old girl. You're a pervert for staring through my grand-daughter's mirror. How many times have you seen her undressed? Huh?!" she cried, poking him in the chest.
"Whoa! Back up!" he cried, waving his arms. "First of all, your grand-daughter doesn't interest me in the least. I was looking for YOU! Point two, so what if you were sixteen? It wasn't like I was gonna con . . . condone . . . concern . . ."
"Consummate?" Lydia asked sarcastically. "Like I believe that!"
"Wait a minute, who said anything about consuming your mate?" Beetlejuice cried, aghast. "Is that what breathers do in marriage nowadays? I thought only grasshoppers did that!"
"First of all, that's 'praying mantis' you're thinking of; secondly, I really don't wanna argue about that right now, so bye-bye! B . . . B . . . oh shit."
Beetlejuice's grin grew, if possible, wider. "I'm smarter than you think Lyds. I erased my name from your mind. From now on, my dear ghost, you have your own, personal poltergeist shadow!"
Lydia froze, indecision written across her features. Finally she spoke, hoping to intimidate. "I can kick your ass any day, you come a step closer and I'll put you in your second grave!"
Beetlejuice lazily examined his fingernails, not bothering to look at her as he answered. "First of all, you're as weak as a kitten compared to me, you know it, I know it, we both know it, it's settled. Secondly, you want to do any fighting, you're gonna have to find somebody else. I'm a bit of a lazy ghost, I don't usually go for the whole "takes effort" thing."
Lydia stared, completely confused. "Then why the hell are you here?!" she snapped.
"Are you really that dense?" Beetlejuice snapped right back. Then his demeanor changed to lovesick puppy. "I want to MARRY you!" he crooned, reaching for her.
Lydia dodged. "If you haven't noticed, I'm DEAD! You can't get free by marrying me anymore!" she cried out angrily, raising her chin and poking at a bullet hole in her neck.
Beetlejuice rolled forward onto his toes, leaning far into her personal space, and snapped angrily, "That's not what I meant! Don't you -- don't you get it?" Shaking his head like a wet dog, he rolled back on his heels, and smiled as charmingly as one can with brown and green teeth. He made a comical smoochie noise.
"Can't you just accept me?" he mock-pleaded.
Lydia, spooked by his mood swings, backed up slowly. Taking no notice, he popped up into the air, and, pointing menacingly, shrieked, "I'll get you my pretty!! And your little dog, too!!" With that, he sailed out of the room, cackling with laughter.
Lydia watched him go, her eyes bugging out. When had B ever seen the Wizard of Oz?
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