Disclaimer: All references to the characters Jareth, Sarah, Hoggle, Sir Didymus, and the film Labyrinth belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.
Life's Little Lessons: Chapter 4
Thomas bounded down the stairs feeling lighter and happier than he had in months. He used the pole of the stairs to slingshot himself down the hall towards the kitchen. Yet he slowed his trajectory hearing a soft, feminine voice humming. Smiling, he crept forward to see a sight he treasured the most early Saturday mornings. With her ubiquitous mug of coffee in her hands, she leaned up against the counter. Pulled back into a messy bun, wisps of her dark hair framed her calm face. She hummed a song he didn't know, a strange little tune that sounded unreal. Morning sunlight warmed her back and gave her a strange halo of light around her head. A small smile graced her red lips as if she knew a secret that no one else did. Just then she opened her half-closed eyes and saw him staring at her from the entryway. Her smile danced in her green eyes, and he felt warm all over. He knew that smile was for him and him alone.
"Ah, love, did you stay up late last night reading again?" she asked drawing him into a half hug. Her warm voice held a note of amusement. He loved her for that. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he hugged her back. She chuckled at his impromptu need for affection. "You're in a cuddly mood, Thomas."
"I love you," Thomas murmured resting his head on her slender shoulder. He felt his cheeks grow hot at the honest admission. He felt safe, appreciated, and, well, truly loved. She didn't laugh at him; she only hugged him tighter and kissed the top of his head.
"I love you, too," she admitted without a moment's hesitation.
"Don't ever leave me."
She laughed and it sounded like chimes. "I would never leave you, Thomas. Now, c'mon, you can tell me about your book while we fix breakfast for those sleepy heads."
He gave a sound of affirmation and disentangled from her. He watched her set the coffee mug aside to begin preparations. She began to hum that strange tune again. Then something white dashed across the window over the sink. Thomas leaned over to stare out into the backyard.
"Thomas?"
Something wasn't right. The backyard wasn't the backyard, but a hillside overlooking a stone maze of walls. A city and castle sat upon the horizon in the distance. A figure with platinum blond hair and dressed in a black feather cape stood on the hillside. With his back to Thomas, the figure seemed to be admiring the stone maze. Thomas found himself drawn to the figure.
"Thomas?"
With a wave of a black gloved hand, a spot in the maze shimmered and changed ever so slightly. A swirl of wind caught the figure's dark cape of feathers and tugged it aside. Thomas watched, entranced. A word lingered on the edge of the young boy's mind… the Labyrinth? And… is that the Goblin King? As if the figure had heard Thomas's thoughts, the figure stiffened and began to turn to look at him. Thomas felt fear grip him as he saw the figure's strong, masculine profile.
"Thomas?"
Charlie's hand was gently shaking him by the shoulder. The dream slowly faded, but the man's profile and his Aunt in the kitchen stuck out in his mind.
"C'mon, sleepy head. Rise and shine," she said in a quiet but chipper voice. He swatted feebly at her, or he tried to. His arm had fallen asleep from his awkward position on the daybed. His cousin easily avoided him. "Whoa, there, tiger. Come down when you're ready, 'kay?"
Moments later, Thomas descended the stairs heavily. When he appeared in the kitchen, there was no sunlight. His Aunt didn't look like the angel from his dreams. She looked older, tired. She didn't hum or draw him into a hug. She looked old with her faint wrinkles and dark hair pulled back. Worry crept into her emerald green eyes as she took in his appearance. Still dressed in his clothes from the day before, he slumped into the empty chair. He ran a hand through his bedhead mop of hair. A yawn caught him unawares and he rubbed at the Sandman's deposit on his red-rimmed eyes.
"Here, Thomas, have a pancake," his cousin said in that chipper voice again. He glared at her and then the proffered pancake on his plate. It looked delicious. Then his cousin slathered butter on his pancake and dumped a ton of maple syrup on top. It looked disgusting. His already empty stomach curdled, and he scowled at the offending breakfast item. Why does she always have to interfere like that? Why did she have to treat him like a child? He scowled and refused to touch the pancake.
"I hate pancakes," he muttered slumping in the chair.
"Charlie…" his Uncle said in a warning. He didn't miss his Aunt's shake of her head. Deftly, the man took Thomas's plate with the sugary pancake. Charlie looked appropriately admonished, and she rose to fetch a clean plate for Thomas.
"Sorry," she apologized setting the dinnerware in front of him. Thomas stared at it.
"If you want, I can fix you something else," his Aunt offered politely. "What would you like, love?"
Thomas was silent. He didn't really hate pancakes; he just hated the syrup. It was too sweet. He eyed the stack of pancakes and the jar of strawberry jam on the table. He glanced at his Uncle's plates. He, too, had yet to touch the syrup one as he finished his jam one. Thomas straightened up, speared a few pancakes with his fork, and plopped them on his plate. His Uncle nudged the jam towards him without a word. His Aunt smiled warmly but hid it behind her mug of steaming coffee. She turned to ask her daughter a question, "So, what are your plans for the day, Charlotte?"
"Emma and Sophie and me." Charlie began and stopped seeing the look from her mother that Thomas didn't have to see to know Aunt Sarah gave. "Er, sorry. Emma, Sophie, and I had plans to go shopping this afternoon. Homecoming is coming up quick so we wanted to try on dresses."
"You haven't been asked to the dance yet?" her father asked.
"Well, no… but we were thinking of going as a group although Emma says Billy heard from Aidan that Jack may or may not ask her to-" A buzzing sound drew Charlotte's attention, and she dropped the conversation to go retrieve her cell phone on the counter.
"No cell phone during family time," her mother admonished and Charlie sat back down. "Your friends can wait. It's not the end of the world if they have to wait for us to finish eating."
Charlie sighed. "Yes, Mother."
The conversation fluctuated from homecoming to classes to her parents' plans for the weekend. Thomas didn't mind that they ignored him for the time being. He liked listening to their family conversation. Sure, they didn't pay attention to him, but he wasn't in the mood for talking. He stuck another piece of jam laden pancake in his mouth and chewed. His thoughts drifted back to the dream and the little red book he had found last night. He hadn't gotten very far, but the book was exciting. Like one of the fairy tales his Aunt shared with him over hot chocolate last weekend. But, he wondered as he took another bite of pancake, was that really the Goblin King I saw in my dream? The shrill sound of the house phone ringing made all conversation stop. His cousin popped up expectantly.
"Hello, Jones Household," she said in a cheery tone. Her happy face drooped a little. It must not be a friend. "Yeah, sure thing." She held the phone to her mother but glanced in Thomas's direction. "It's for you."
His Aunt raised a delicate eyebrow and took the receiver. "Hello? Oh, hi." Her gaze fell on him, too. He found it irritating. Then his Aunt rose from the table and walked out of the kitchen for some privacy.
"It's my Dad, isn't it?" Thomas asked bluntly. He gave up on finishing his pancakes. Suddenly they felt like lead weights in his stomach.
"Yeah…" agreed Charlie as she checked her cell phone's text messages.
"Charlie, what did your mother say?" his Uncle said. The young woman sighed and sat back at the table. "Thank you."
"You're welcome…" she begrudgingly said. She started squirming on her chair. "It was just Sophie saying she'll pick me up at eleven."
His Uncle nodded. "And when will you be home?"
"For dinner?" she hedged. "I can text her and ask."
"Not. Now." His Uncle picked up his fork to tackle the syrupy pancake. "You will be home at 5pm and no later. Your Mother and I have something planned this evening in honor of Thomas." Uncle Brian smiled as the young boy turned to look at him. "You still like super hero movies, right?"
Thomas nodded and tried to hide his surprise. They were taking him out for a movie? But at that moment, Aunt Sarah came back into the kitchen. She had her hand over the mouth piece and she wasn't smiling.
"Thomas? Your father would like to talk to you…"
"I don't want to talk to him," he muttered. Any excitement he had a moment before left him in an instant. "I hate him."
"Now, love…"
Thomas pushed his chair back and walked out of the kitchen. Aunt Sarah didn't follow him. He heard her talk into the phone as he climbed the stairs.
"He's not feeling well. I'll have him call you later. Oh? Okay. Do you know when you'll be here on Sunday? Oh. Okay. No, no, you don't have to pay me back for tonight. It'll be a treat for him. No. Toby…" Sarah sighed. "All right. Have a good day at work. We'll see you when you get here tomorrow. Bye."
Thomas reached the top of the stairs and trudged to his temporary bedroom. He shut the door and stared at Aunt Sarah's cruddy concert t-shirt from some '90s band on the bed. He shrugged out of his clothes, threw on the shirt, and crawled under the covers with the intent to sleep the day away. The shirt felt clean and smelled vaguely of her. No one would miss him; no one cared… least of all his Dad. He listened to Charlie play music in her room and get ready to join her friends. He fingered the cover of the little red book by his head on the pillow. A soft patter of rain on the window joined the sounds of the house that wasn't his home. He heard Charlie's cry of dismay in the next room. Slowly, he breathed in deep and closed his eyes to rest.