How Ya Gonna Keep 'em Down on the Farm
by
Owlcroft

"Lyds! You'll never guess! Come on and lay those B-words on me, babes – we're going to a hootenanny!" Beetlejuice was so excited he was tapping on the glass with his fingertips.

Lydia laughed and said his name three times and he came through to take her in his arms and swing her around the room in an improvised waltz. "Auntie Em just called and she's having a hootenanny Saturday! It'll be great – once that stupid goat does her party trick imitations, it'll be nothing but fun the rest of the afternoon!" He stopped whirling Lydia around and held her at arms length. "You remember the farm – but you've never seen it decked out like it will be Saturday. It's been years since she had one of these! Babes, we're going to have such a good time!"

Lydia opened her mouth to say something, then paused, glancing at her desk where the brochure advertising a fashion seminar in New York City that Saturday lay. "Um, BJ, I . . . this is kind of sudden. This Saturday? Day after tomorrow?"

"Yeah! It starts early in the afternoon and there are games and contests and then a barbecue – dinosaur ribs and cole slop and shoo fly pie – made with real shoo flies! Lyds, Auntie Em told me to be sure to bring you along. She's been looking forward to seeing you again, you know." His grin was as wide as she'd ever seen it and it made her choke back any objections.

"Me? Why?"

He dropped his hold on her shoulders, shuffled around a little and the grin diminished just a bit. "Well, I've . . . you know . . . I've told her about you some more. You know, about us being friends and some of the stuff we've been doing, and she said she thought she ought to . . . you know, get to know you better." He turned a faint pink and looked away.

She sighed internally and nodded. "And I've love to see her again, too." Then she set herself to thinking of a good reason to tell her father she no longer needed a ride into the city on Saturday.

ooooo

"See," Beetlejuice explained as Doomie took them out of town to the farm, "every few years or so, the goat feels like doing her bird calls and there are some people who are stupid enough – I mean, are such bird fanciers that they're willing to pay to hear them. So Auntie Em collects enough from the bird fanciers and she puts on . . . well, basically, it's sort of a party she throws with the money. And there's lots of fun stuff to do."

The talented goat was surprisingly expert at a few of her calls, the egret and the saw whet owl being her best. After Nanny performed, the crowd divided and headed for the food, the contests, the exhibitions, and the benches under the trees – not necessarily in that order.

Lydia was interesting in the shucking contest until she found it didn't involve corn at all. The prize went to the person who could say, "aw, shucks" the most times in ten seconds.

Next they tried the pig races. Again, Lydia was surprised. "Come on, Lyds. You've heard of pig races before." Beetlejuice was intent on choosing the pig most likely to win.

She shrugged. "I just never expected to see the pigs doing stretchies in running shorts and sweatbands."

After the series of races, which were extremely competitive, they wandered off to a large green area with sand pits at each end. "Here's where they have the horseshoe toss." He gestured at the carefully cropped grassy area.

This time, tongue in cheek, Lydia said, "Don't tell me, let me guess. The shoes are still attached to the horses?"

"You've seen it before!" His astonishment was so nearly believable that they both laughed.

And then there were the pony rides. People lined up eagerly to tow small ponies around in wooden wagons as a treat. Lydia took a pass on that, but did admit to being a bit peckish and inquired what food was available.

"Well, there's finger sandwiches – with real fingers, too!" explained Beetlejuice. "And there's always spooketti and feetballs, and guacamoldy and chips, and –"

"Beej," she held up a hand to stop him. "Is there anything at all that I can eat?"

"Oh, food you can eat?" He pretended to think hard, scowling, then shot her a glance and laughed. "Yeah, I did manage to sneak a pizza into Auntie Em's kitchen. It's extra-large, so you can have one piece."

After Lydia assumed an expression of mock outrage, they both laughed again and he took her hand and towed her to the house for lunch.

ooooo

Auntie Em, as always, won the pie baking contest with her boo-berry pie. Beetlejuice wouldn't let Lydia sample the runner-up's poisonberry tart. "Not sure how that would work with a human," he told her.

The boo-berry pie was enough for her, sweet yet tart and juicy. She was enjoying herself enormously and realized that a great deal of that was simply being with Beetlejuice, watching his enjoyment. He wore a constant grin, laughing most of the time, and knew many of the attendees. Lydia was surprised by the number of people he recognized and stopped even trying to remember names after the first ten he introduced her to.

As he left her side briefly to help one of the farm hands setting up hay bales for the jug band about to perform, an attractive brown cow in a cotton dress and sunbonnet approached Lydia and offered a hug. "Do you remember me?"

"Of course, I do!" Lydia returned the hug gladly. "And I have to say, this is quite a party you've got here. Thanks so much for letting me come to it."

Auntie Em pulled Lydia to the side of the crowd and beamed at her. "I'm so pleased you could make it. Beetle talks about you simply all the time. He says the nicest things about you and I can tell you mean an awful lot to him."

"I think the world of him, too, Auntie Em. Oh!" She put a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you that. Please excuse me."

"No excuse necessary, Lydia! I would love for you to call me Auntie Em, and maybe someday . . ." she sighed and shrugged slightly. "An aunt can dream, can't she?" She adjusted the apron she wore with great care, then smiled again. "Now tell me all about the adventures you two have been having recently."

Lydia did and then they exchanged a few anecdotes about the one person they had in common.

"He spent a lot of summers here, you know. Donny came out a couple of times, but it was too . . . well, he never liked getting dirty and the chores were just too hard for him to help with, so he usually ended up leaving after just a week. But Beetle loved it. He was over the moo-on the second he got here. He always tried to help the hands out – although he got in the way more than he helped, but the hands didn't mind."

Lydia smiled and asked for more memories, and they exclaimed and laughed over the stories and anecdotes of a small Beetlejuice for more than twenty minutes before one of the hands found Auntie Em and beckoned to her with his fingers.

"Suppose I'd better moo-ove along and say howdy to some other folks, Lydia. But I'm so glad you two could make it today. I've been wanting to meet up with you again. Now, don't be a stranger!"

The jug band started up at that point, and Lydia watched as Auntie Em found Beetlejuice and gave him a heartfelt hug. He frowned a bit, wrinkling up his face as if in discomfort, then pulled away from her to ask her something, pointing at Lydia. Auntie Em nodded vigorously then headed off toward the pig sty where the littlest Neitherworld children were having a mud fight.

Beetlejuice came up to Lydia and looked at her carefully. "You having a good time, babes? My aunt said she was really glad you could make it."

"This is the best afternoon we've had in a long time. I'm so glad you brought me, Beej." She took his arm and pulled him toward the band, who were currently playing 'Schlocky Top'.

They danced their version of a hoedown to the music, grinning and laughing the whole time. The majority of the musicians were, naturally enough, large clay jugs, but the star was an octopus who played three fiddles at once. "Sometimes I wish I'd taken violin lessons instead of piano," Beetlejuice said a trifle wistfully.

Lydia looked at him, considering. "It's not too late. You could still learn."

"Nah." Then he brightened. "There's no time for lessons – it's time to dance!" He swung her into an enthusiastic clog dance as the jug band began "Smoggy Mountain Breakdown" and they danced until the band wound up their set.

Lydia was used to a cheerful, laughing Beetlejuice, but she'd never seen him so happy, laughing all day, making sure she was laughing with him. Finally, tired but happy, Lydia reluctantly asked him to take her home. On the way to the area where Doomie was parked, they noticed a small booth with a pretty ghoul behind the counter. There were several male people standing in line and Lydia spied a sign by the booth that read, 'Kisses – $5 each. Proceeds pay for the school trip to Mount Gushmore.'

"Beej, did you want to –" She gestured toward the ghoul batting her eyes at the current customer.

He glanced over, then shook his head. "That's not who I want . . . I mean . . . of course, who wouldn't want to kiss a good-looker like that! But all these guys. Her lips are probably already tired." He put his arm around Lydia's shoulders and led her away. "Besides, I have to get you home. You did have fun today, didn't you? I sure did." He gave her a somewhat shy look and added, "Thanks, Lyds. For coming with me."

She grinned at him, a little surprised that he felt he needed to thank her, and snuggled a little closer to him. "Thank you for asking me. I had such a good time!"

ooooo

As they came through the mirror, they were still smiling and talking about the hootenanny. Beetlejuice perched on Lydia's desk and asked, "What was your favorite part? Other than the dancing, I mean."

While she thought about that, changing her shoes for slippers, he noticed a brochure next to him on her desk and picked it up. "Oh," he said, reading it and seeing the event had been that afternoon. "Oh." He replaced the brochure and looked down at his clasped hands. "I didn't remember . . . You shouldn't . . . you shouldn't ever give up something you want," he said sotto voce, "not for me."

"But I wanted to go with you today. And besides, that's what friends do. You do it all the time." Lydia came over to him and put a hand on his arm. "You always do things for me. And I'm so glad we went; I had a wonderful time and I wouldn't have missed it for anything!"

He frowned, shook his head, unhappy. "You should've said something. I don't want you to give something up like that. It's wrong."

"It's not wrong, it's what best friends do, they think of the other person first. And I'm so very glad we went to the farm instead. Beej, you're the best friend I could ever have and of course I would put off going to a stupid seminar instead. I want you to be happy because you make me so happy. You're the only friend I ever needed, ever will need, and I would give up so much more than that for you."

He sat there, silent for a few moments while he thought. "But I want . . . I need to give you what you want, to do anything for you. You just said that's what best friends do."

"But I feel the same way. Oh, my Beej."

He looked shy at that, but managed to say, "Am I? I mean, you don't mean . . . I mean," he stammered to a stop, then took a deep breath and started over. "So we both want what makes the other one happy, so we should, maybe . . . talk about stuff? I mean, like when this sort of thing happens and then we decide together?"

"I suppose we should; it's what people who care about each other do. And you are so important to me, Beej, and I know you care about me." She could see that he was getting more and more uncomfortable at the discussion of emotions, especially his own, so she sidled up to him and slid her arm within his. "If it happens again, that there's something else going on that you've forgotten, I'll remind you. But you have to do the same for me; if I suggest something and you had something else planned, you have to be honest with me and tell me."

"Um, okay," he said slowly. "I can do that. I think." He still looked uneasy, but this was progress. "Just . . . tell you. If it happens again. Like today."

"That's the idea," she agreed. "This isn't the first time there's been a conflict and I know you've already had to give something up because of my plans but there's always a way we can work things out. But I want you to believe that I decided – I chose to skip the seminar this year. I really wanted to go see Auntie Em again and to spend this afternoon having fun with you instead."

Beetlejuice looked a little less anxious and even managed a smile for her. "It really was fun. Wasn't it?" When she nodded vigorously, he added, "She's my favorite relative, you know."

Lydia nodded again. "She called you Beetle. I never heard anyone else abbreviate your name like that."

"She's the only one, but she always calls me that, started back when I was a kid. I, um . . . I really like my aunt. And I think," he twisted the button on his jacket, not looking at anything, "she likes me too." Then he added, "I don't know why."

Lydia felt a now-familiar surge of love as she looked at him. He was so dear, and so unconscious of her feelings . . . and, was it possible, of his own? She gave him a deeply affectionate smile. "I do."