Old School Tie
by
Owlcroft

Slimy, as one of the three original Sappy Face Ghouls, had the entree to Scarabée's living quarters during business hours and she wandered into the kitchen one afternoon with a request for Lydia and Itchy: The school was having a fashion show to display the Home Eek senior students' creations and she wondered if they had any time to look at her ideas and give her some tips.

"They're not real good, but I thought maybe you could . . ." Slimy twisted her skeletal hands together nervously, "make 'em better, or just give me some ideas?" she finished up hopefully.

"They're not bad," said a thoughtful Lydia. "I'd be happy to help if I can and, Itchy, you too?"

Her assistant, another of the original SFG's, nodded enthusiastically. "Sure! It'd be fun!"

The threesome set to work at once finalizing the designs, selecting materials, and even cutting out two patterns that afternoon before Scarabée closed for the day. At dinner that night, Lydia mentioned the situation to her husband, who immediately wanted all the other Saps to take part in the project, too. Beetlejuice always referred to the Sappy Face Ghouls as the Saps, but it was affectionate, with a twinkle.

"They can model those designs that Itchy's been working on for you. Just because they're in a lower grade doesn't mean they shouldn't be able to join in. And there's the other Sap pack down by the docks. Squeak's done a real good job putting that one together. They should be involved, too!" He started to get enthusiastic about the idea. "It's a great project for all the kids, and I might – just might now – hand out a few merit badges for this!"

Lydia smiled as she handed him the bowl of roasted beets. "Maybe a badge with a beetle on it, with a pin stuck through it?"

"Yeah!" He beamed at her. "Wait . . . no! I wanted to think it up myself!" He scowled at her, sniffed in offended hauteur, then finally grinned as she ladled more sour cream onto his beets.

ooooo

Lydia and Itchy had time to spare the next day and worked on Slimy's outfit even before she got there. "Slimy has a slim figure, easy to work with and accentuate her best features, but her skin tone . . . hmm." Lydia tapped her lips and considered as Itchy held up various color swatches. "For the shirt, it should be something to bring out the greenish highlights, I think," and chose a dark caramel. "This will work even if she dyes her hair blonde again," she explained. Itchy nodded in agreement.

When the third original SFG, Sniff, arrived with Slimy, he had some definite ideas of his own. "Purple for me," he insisted. "Bright purple, with white trim!" So he was fitted out by Itchy with a trim tunic over pants that looked vaguely military with its epaulets and double row of buttons; it also added to his meager stature, making him look less blocky and gave him a bit more definition.

Slimy, on the other hand, was happy with her own ensemble and left it to Itchy to finish and quickly sketched out a costume for Squeak herself. She created a versatile outfit for the small rodent-like child, with a jacket that could be turned inside-out to contrast with the shirt and pants instead of matching them. "He's gonna love 'em," she declared with pride.

Beetlejuice showed up in the basement workshop just before dark to chase the kids home and summon his wife to the supper table. But first he showed them all a design of his own for the SFG troops – an already-knotted tie with an outline of a ghoul face on the knot and a scarab at the bottom. "See, you just slide the loop over your head and pull the knot close." He demonstrated and managed to throttle himself to the entertainment of everyone watching.

ooooo

All the designs were completed and the clothing finished within two weeks; then everyone waited eagerly for the school fashion show at the end of the month and it did not disappoint. The Daily Wail sent their fashion reporter to cover it and his article was read aloud that night in Scarabée's small parlor.

"'It would be hard to single out one particular student's work, since all were magnificent, but the design creations of Slimy Nuisance were outstanding.' How about that?" A widely-grinning Beetlejuice looked up from reading to see his wife smiling fondly at him.

"You're really proud of them, aren't you? All of them." She nudged him to make room for her on the sofa and squeezed in next to him. "They were all so excited and did a wonderful job. You should be proud of them."

He shrugged slightly, then gave an embarrassed nod. "It's important to me, dear one, that they have the help they need."

"You feel responsible for them, don't you." It was a statement, not a question. She understood.

He nodded again, still a tad shy about it. "And they helped us. Remember what they did?* And they weren't born with all the advantages a kid should have. Yeah, I made sure they have heat and running water and all. But that's not enough."

"And new clothes once a year, for them and their families." Lydia put her arm around his shoulders to give him a hug.

"Least I could do." He sighed deeply. "But I want to do more, 'specially for the kids in this world."

Lydia considered that. "You want to give them the help they need," she suggested.

"But it should be more than that, my dearest babes. I don't know exactly what, but there has to be more." He stared into space as if trying to see the idea that was waiting for him to realize it; he grew intent, concentrating, willing himself to figure it out. "It has to be more than just the basics: food and clothes and stuff. I have to give them – all the kids of the Neitherworld – I'm supposed to give them . . ."

Lydia took his hand and held it tight. "Beej, is this part of being The Luck?"

With eyes now closed, he gave her one short nod followed immediately by a shrug, seeking inward for the answer. "My conscience, I guess – I never thought I had one, but maybe it bothered me so much that I turned it off. Then I met you." His eyes flew open and he returned the pressure of her hand. "And it's back on now, but sometimes I don't know what it's trying to tell me. But this time . . . I think it's . . . I feel . . .that I need to take care of the children. All the children. I'm supposed to give them – I have to give them all – futures. That's what The Luck is supposed to do and I'm the only one who can do it." He looked at her, confused but trusting. "You think I'm right about this?"

"I suppose it's flattering that you always think I have the answers to everything. But I don't. I do think you're doing the right things, though, and you're starting to be able to trust yourself to know what to do." She frowned slightly. "And if you have to be The Luck, then I do, too. It can't be just your job, it's too much."

"But that's just it. I don't want to be the Luck." He dropped his head disconsolately. "I know I have the juice for it, the . . . the capability. But, dear one, I don't want to. I don't want all the responsibility for everybody."

"I know." She snuggled closer to him and pulled his arm around her waist so they were holding each other. "You never wanted it, and you don't have to do it, sweetheart. Honestly, you don't. You can still help kids, you know, without being responsible for everybody. A few days ago, Slimy told me the SFG's give her something to do, something meaningful. She said they all really love being in a group, making new friends and knowing if they find something that isn't right, they can bring it to you and help you straighten it out."

He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. "Squeak's got enough kids interested down at the docks that he's forming a third troop. He's turning into a leader already."

"And I was thinking, what about trade schools? Itchy told me there are no colleges or academies or any kind of schooling available for what I want to do here – to set up my own supply and manufacture and marketing of materials. Couldn't weset up schools for different industries, businesses? With the help of the communities and civic leaders, of course." Lydia closed her eyes half-way and hmm'ed. "I bet Prince Vince would be glad to help with that. We let the kids tell us what they want to learn to do, and then find people who will teach them how to do it. That's how we provide their futures and we involve other people in it with us."

"School's important for those kids. Everybody needs an education . . ." He trailed off, then said, "Okay, I didn't always . . . but I mean . . . look how I turned –" At that he came to a complete stop, with a stern look at his wife, who had pulled one hand away to hide her smile. "But just think what I could've done if I'd . . . not that I'm doing too bad, you know. It's just that . . . if . . ."

She lost control completely then and threw her arms around his neck, laughing. "You could not have done any better if you'd been a Toads scholar, my darling. But maybe we shouldn't tell the kids that."

He snorted a brief laugh, then turned serious again. "But you know, I still don't think I should be responsible for them – it's too important. They're too important."

"You've been responsible for them since you formed the Sappy Face Ghouls, and they love you. You just don't trust yourself enough." She had stopped laughing and now thought for a moment. "Beej darling, you always wanted to do something for those kids. Maybe it's not being the Luck after all. Maybe it's just you. Being yourself."

"Huh. You really think so?" When she nodded, he went on. "I'd like to believe that. But, you know," he looked at her intently, "if we do all that – all the trade schools and stuff – we might be setting up competitors for you, for the business."

Lydia smiled benevolently. "I don't mind the competition, my sweetheart. We have another whole world open to us for that." She leaned in to give him a kiss. "Let's give the kids futures while we set up our own."

*See 'The Luck of the Neitherworld'