Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth. Or the Word program. Yeah.
Interview With A Goblin King
Interview Number Three:
Sarah.
Stepping through the portal Hoggle had guided me to in his modest cottage, I take a good look around. I am in an apartment, a medium-sized, uptown apartment. The color scheme is that of an art-deco newbie; light grays mixed with ice blues and charcoals. When both of my feet are firmly planted on the hardwood floor, I set my bag down, and start walking throughout the apartment.
"Miss Williams?" I call out, soft enough as to not disturb the neighbors. I get silence in return. Turning the corner, I find myself in a living room, a flat screen television set, on but not occupied. "Miss Williams?" Nothing.
Backing away, I stop suddenly when I bump into another person. Turning around sharply, both myself and the other person release gasps, my own being quiter in comparison to her's.
"Miss Williams." I say breathlessly, and she is visibly confused. Shaking her head, she raises a cellular phone into my view.
"I will call the police if you do-" I interrupt her, eyes cast downward.
"No, please Miss Williams. I intend no harm here." My hand on her wrist, I lower her arm, before slowly settling myself down onto the gray couch. "I am a friend...of sorts."
One perfectly arched black eyebrow raises in confusion, but she sits herself down next to me, though I can see she is wary. "'A friend of sorts'?" She repeats, crossing her arms, her spine stiff. I nod my head, smiling politely.
"Don't ask how I got here, or who I am, because it's all really too much to explain." I look into her gray eyes, and for the first time notice the small flecks of green woven throughout the gray. Tilting my head, I examine her face. The general roundess of childhood is gone, replaced with high cheekbones. Her cheeks have a natural flush to them, her lips rosy, her nose slender. She is wearing her long raven hair in a high ponytail-style, with a few layers framing her face.
"I just came here," I begin, crossing my right leg over my left, "to get some background information."
"On me?"
"Yeah, on you. And some things, okay, one thing, that happened during your childhood." Placing my head in my left hand, I tap my nails against the couch. "Again, don't ask how I know this stuff. Just try to take comfort in the fact that I have experienced it as well, but not in the way you have." I raise my gaze to her's, hazel eyes staring warmly at gray ones. "I came into this with nothing at stake. You had everything at stake."
As I finish my thought, I can see the awareness settle upon her face. Her eyes widen, her lips part, and two perfectly manicured hands raise up to cover most of her mouth. Her head slowly makes it's way left to right, left, right left, right, before lowering, her chin making contact with the line of her collarbone. Finally, she sighs, the first two fingers on each hand now gently massaging her temples in a steady, circular motion.
"You mean..." She begins with another sigh, though this one is drawn out and considerably deeper than the first, "You mean to tell me," Raising her head, she keeps her gaze on me, while pushing herself off of the couch, "That you have gone..."
"Underground." I reply stoically, fighting the urge to smile when David Bowie's butter-like voice fills my head.
To my utter suprise, Sarah starts to laugh, a small chuckle at first, before it slowly progresses into a half-amused, half-denying psychosis snigger. Turning her back to me, she walks away, a few feet from me, and I can hear her talking to herself under her breath.
"Ma'am, please," I say, getting up and coming to her, placing my small hands on her thin shoulders. The straps on her black tank top come in contact with my fingers, and I grip her shoulders tighter, pelading with my eyes for her to give me a chance. "You are not crazy. Stop denying the fact that this happened. You know what you did, as do I and a whole lot of other people in this world." Ignoring her startled gaps and befuddled stare, I roll my eyes, walking away from her.
"Look," She near-yells, pointing an accusing finger at me much like the way Hoggle previously had, "if you think you can just come in here, and bring something up from my past that I'm sure didn't even happen, you've got another thing com-" She stops suddenly, her eyes narrowing darkly. Stammering over my words, I back away, raising my arms as if to protect myself.
"Sarah?" I ask, backing away further, "S-Sarah, what's wrong?" I stop when my back hits a wall, and I wince as she comes closer. Her slender fingers reach out, and I realize what she has found.
Plucking the flower from behind my ear, I can see her eyes begin to well with tears. Looking fiercely at me, her expression becomes that of hollow anger.
"What..." She swallows the obvious lump in her throat, "What is this?"
Smiling meakly, I release a nervous giggle. "Do you believe me now?"
She leans back against the wall I am currently up against, sinking to her knees. I follow in the same fashion, and we sit, Labyrinth Defeater and Labyrinth Beginner, side-by-side, in silence. After two minutes in quiet, she licks her noticably dry lips, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"You got this from Hoggle?" A nod is her response, a chuckle is mine. "Did he tell you they are my favorite?" Another nod. She lifts her right arm, pointing down the hall, where a dining area perfect for four people is beyond an cracked door. "I have a bunch in this nice vase I bought at the flea market...Must've been about two dollars, heard it was worth about two hundred after buying it."
I smile. "Did you consider selling it?"
Shaking her head, she lifts herself up, walking down the hall. I follow. Once we enter the room, I see the vase. What looks like seventy-five of the white flowers stick out at all angles, as Sarah's soft hands wrap around the vase. She picks it up from the stained-wood table, bringing the vase closer to my eyes. I gasp at the simplistic beauty of it, and she smiles.
"Can you see why I did not want to sell it?"
And I do. Because despite the simplicity of the vase, it is clear to me why Sarah thought it was special - crystal clear. Quite literally.
The vase is a perfect sphere, not even flattening out at the bottom to rest on a surface easier, nor at the top to allow for more flowers. The surface of the vase shows a reflection, though not a perfect mirror image, of whoever is looking into it. When sitting on the dining area's table, it holds it's own to the other, fancier pieces decorating Sarah's apartment, without being at all flashy or over-the-top.
It's a crystal, nothing more...
"Wow," I sigh, letting my right pointer and middle finger slide down the side of the vase. She nods her head in agreement, scrapping her top teeth against her bottom lips in a suggestion of a smile.
"I can't stand the thought of losing it..." Her eyes remain on the vase, which she is now holding in a hug. Looking at the vase as well, I part my lips, close them, then re-open them.
"Is that because you...?" I drift off, raising my eyebrows quizically. She looks to me, shrugging with indifference.
"Love him?" Setting the vase down, she walks to the large winder at the end of the room, separting the gray curtains, "I'd call it an infatuation, really. A childhood crush that has stayed solid through adulthood. It seems," She closes the curtains again, pulls out the chair at the end of the table, and sits, tapping her nails against the wood, "that it is affecting my love life."
"Really?"
She blows a raspberry with her mouth, lowering her head to her arms. "Well, no. I just hate dating."
I laugh, "I can relate."
"Really?" She asks, much like I just had.
My face becomes a stone, "No. Sorry."
"I think I could though." I don't ask her for the specifics, I know what she means. "If I were to go back there...I definitely would..." She plays with the ivory polish on her fingernails, picking and chipping away at the cover until little flecks fall from her nails. Bringing the pile to her hand, she turns her palm over, letting the flecks fall to the floor.
I break the silence. "So why don't you?"
"Go back?" She questions in reply, and I nod my head once. She shrugs again, looking to the ceiling. "Because I'm afraid. I'm terribly, overly, dangerously afraid." Her hands now in her lap, she smooths the lines of her dark jeans, before turning her palms up to face her. She traces one finger down the lines in her left palm. She mutters a small 'No', pressing her palms to her cheeks.
"Afraid of what you feel?"
"No," She says, looking at me without truly looking at me, "Afraid of what he feels." I try to question her, but she opens her mouth to explain without being pushed. "I mean, really, I'd be relatively pissed if I was in his situation. I'm sure he had it all planned out, and then I go and ruin it? Not very nice of me, you know?" She walks out of the room, leaving me alone for the third time. I get up, following her once again, and I see she had gone into the kitchen. Opening the small window, despite the winter weather, she gestures for me to come forward.
"I have this all year round," She says, in reference to the small box containing a make-shift garden, just below her window. Checking each petal of each flower, she smiles, and I notice that they are the same flower that she had in the crystal vase, as well as the one I had in my hair. "People always ask how I keep them alive, especially with the crazy-bad snow storms we get in this area."
"And what do you say?" I ask, my eyes still on the flowers. Looking up to her, she smiles knowingly, turning her wrist in much the same manner Jareth had so many times before.
"It's magic." With a small giggle, she brings herself back into the kitchen. Once I am fully inside as well, I assist her in slamming the window shut. As we walk back into the living room, she stops, turning to face me. "Have you...talked to him?" She brings her hands together, entwining her fingers. Walking backwards, she turns back to the living room, and she sits in a chair near the black stone fireplace. "I don't want to seem like some love-blinded crazy fool," I smile at her choice of words, "I haven't even given him that much thought these past twenty-some years..." She bites a little on her right ring finger, and I notice that, since I have been here, her manicure gets a little less perfect with each passing thought, "But your visit has sparked some, I don't know, sudden interest, I guess you could say."
I shake my hand slowly, waving away the notion of "love-blindedness". "No explanation needed, I fully understand. Jareth is quite the interesting character." We both seem to drink in the first time his name has been used this whole visit. "Yes, I've taked to him. You'd be suprised-or maybe not-to find that I actually do go there quite often. It's like an escape, you know?" She licks her lips, and nods in agreement.
"Growing up," She says, her eyes focused on the unused wood in the fireplace, "When I would ask my friends to visit, none of them seemed to give him much thought either. But Hoggle," She says, leanng foward in her chair, "He always seemed a little..."
"Paranoid?" I interject, raising an eyebrow.
She shakes her head. "No, he always seemed...not paranoid, just...worried. Does that make sense?" I agree mutely, even thought it doesn't, really. "Maybe, I don't know, he was worried that if I came back because of him, I'd get myself into trouble, you know?" She taps her pointer finger against her teeth. "What do you think?"
If I were to go back there...I definitely would...
"I think that, if going back for Jareth is what you've come to realize as what you truly want, Hoggle will be just fine with it." Looking to my watch, my eyes become wide with panic. "Oh, geez, sorry Miss Williams, I've really got to go." I run around, collecting my things and preparing to go through Hoggle's portal. Just as I am about to step through, Sarah's hand wraps around my forearm.
"Wait, go? Where?"
I smile, "Home." She still looks utterly confused. "Ohio." I explain simply. She hesitates, lets go of my arm. Retreats. I hear the creak of the wood floor just as I am about to step through. Holding my breath, I tip-toe to the corner of the room, as quiet as a mouse. Lightly, I place my hands and ear to the door that Sarah has just stepped through. Silence reigns over for what seems like hours, and even though it seemed like I should have left, I knew there was a reason why I felt so obligated to stay.
"I wish..." My breath catches in my throat. Sinking against the wall, I bring my knees to my chest.
"I wish..." Come on Sarah, go with your heart...
"I wish Jareth would come and take me away...Right now."
Silence.
With a proud smile, I roll my shoulders back, letting my head softly knock against the wall. Shaking my head, I chuckle loudly, joyously.
You owe me one, Jareth.
Picking up Hoggle's flower from the table where Sarah had set it, I tuck it back behind my ear, organize my things, and prepare to step through the portal. Giving the apartment one last glance, I release a dreamy sigh.
You owe me big.
Do you see the connection in each interview? Gardens.
And I don't care if no one reviews this ever again. Rarely do I ever get stories that won't leave me alone on here, so this is a real accomplishment.