A Type of Vacation

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The Real World- One Year Later

"I admit, it's very becoming," the collector said to Mister Jennings. "It might be worth buying, but I don't think I can. Isn't there death attached to this artist?" Mister Jennings didn't answer. "Everyone who has come in contact with this artist was killed, including the artist."

Mister Jennings sighed. "How did you find out?"

"Oh, I research everything I buy. This artist had such a tragic story. So give me the details. Maybe you'll still make the sale?"

"My son and his friends. They are all dead." All dead. "I'm sure you know that, don't you?"

"Yes, because they were the buyers. Everything they had somehow passed to you I see." They turned to look at him. "How'd they die? The newspaper didn't give very good details"

Rude. Mister Jennings took them to his office where he gave them the more precise findings.

"Hm." The collector pushed the glasses up her nose more. "I don't know if it's worth it, even at regular cost. This looks cursed." They glanced toward him. "Did they do something unsightly to get a hold of this?" He didn't answer back right away. "Sometimes, there is more than a blood price for art. I believe in spiritual revenge. From the way they died, that is how it sounds. Have you had anyone talk to you from the corners of your mind, Mister Jennings?"

"You have to buy it," he insisted.

"Why? Did your family dying for it not work for you? I would think not. I don't want haunted paintings that may kill my family in my lobby." She sighed. "I love expression, but I love my life more. Sorry. If I were you, considering everyone has been accidentally killed in strange ways? I would see if I could make up for it. Eternity is a long time."

"Everyone was interested!" he complained. "Every damn one of you collectors that liked your rotting hellish spooky shit. Then, this happens."

"Sir?" she warned him. "Do not speak with such a tongue. We love art for what it is, not what it was tainted to be. Good day." She walked away.

Mister Jennings just stood there, staring at the painting. "You weren't worth it. You weren't worth anything." Nobody wanted it, and now, it just lounged along on his walls. "Four people died for you, one being my son, and now none of you paintings can even be given away!" He went to his personal kitchen and grabbed a knife. He came back and started to cut up one of the paintings.

"Oh, goodness." The buyer came back. "You really do want to get rid of those paintings, don't you?" She sighed and dug in her purse. "Well, maybe I have a twenty."

"Take 'em! Take 'em all!" he insisted. "Hang them. Burn them. Turn them into firewood. Sell them to some crazy seance place. I don't care." He couldn't do it. Four teenagers in their prime didn't just accidentally die one after another.

And his own son. Who dies falling from the top of a theatre screen, when there's no way to even get there? Something supernatural took them. Here, he had been worried about cops and jail, when he should have been worried about revenge from the dead.

But, he never heard a sound out of the darkness. A dimming of lights. Any bug problems. Nothing supernatural ever messed with him. Like, he had been deemed fine, free enough to escape.

Free enough for another day. While his son and his friends paid for it all. Lost. Deemed, not involved. Nothing. A waste of time.

"Oh, hello." The buyer came toward him again. "Sorry. I feel bad about taking all of them without, you know, at least?" She patted a crunchy twenty dollar bill. "There you go." She waved goodbye and left.

A twenty. His son was gone, for a twenty dollar bill.

A twenty.

A.

Twenty.

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Neitherworld

"Hey, it's Number 2." Beetlejuice noticed who was at his front door. "What are you doing here?" He noticed the art behind her. "Hey, excellent. Lyds will love that."

"More than her," Number 2 reminded him. "Miss Second Chance."

"Why so formal, Number 2?" Beetlejuice asked her.

She presented them once again. "They are all here. Every single piece that was stolen, has been recollected."

"Miss Second Chance?" Lydia came to the door to see what was going on. "Oh." She smiled. "Mother will be thrilled to have her paintings back. Thank you."

"Mister Jennings is miserable and depressed. He may be contemplating suicide."

"Extra credit helps," Beetlejuice asked. "Thanks."

"Don't just thank me, this is the end of the bargain."

"Oh yeah." He almost forgot. Number 2 made him and Lyds sign a boatload of things on their wedding day. She'd been watching him sign, and had been watching certain sections, making sue his juice didn't mess him up. He already knew the sections her beady eyes were on, so he made sure to pick little sections to add a very deliberate phrase to each one. Although she got all the credit for all the afterlife and eternity stuff, she also granted Beetlejuice neverending access between the Living World and the Neitherworld. With that? He was open for business. Lex Talionis was banned because personal revenge tended to effect a ghost. It tended to hurt the most kind-hearted and innocent of them all too.

Personal revenge changed them. Personal revenge required a large amount of juice. But, Beetlejuice had no personal revenge against anyone, and he was anything but kindhearted and innocent. Bleh. So he was perfectly qualified to be the first bio-exercist. He could be hired out now to deal with the living that had shamed the dead that had become dead shadows. Lydia loved that he was helping other people escape a terrible eternity, and giving them another chance in the Neitherworld. He loved it because his job was fun, and it made him a lot of money! Neitherworlders paid him a lot of money to help save their relation or their dead lovers or whatever. Since he never personally knew them, there was no effect on him.

The Neitherworld finally appreciated him for something. He didn't need book deals, he just wanted money, and he didn't want a boring job.

And he needed one after awhile since Lydia wanted to start taking care of the unmoving. She'd been moved herself too much when she heard what happened to the Neitherworld children that weren't wanted. When she gave them enough love that they started to move again, she worked on finding monsters that wanted children, and basically became an adoption agency herself.

So, yeah, he wasn't able to coast on his own yet. This shouldn't be too bad though. "End of what bargain?"

"You obtaining access to either world without restrictions," she warned him.

"Oh." He pulled out a cool little phone doodad he used. They were new, but he made enough money to have the latest thing. "Hang on one second. I just need to leave everyone a note and an automatic message, and an automatic call, to let them know that I can't continue to help save their loves from their tragic fates." He clicked on many call numbers.

Unsurprisingly, ghosts started to pop up right next to his house.

"Don't do it, please!"

"Our grandaughter is four years old and a dead shadow, how could you be so cruel? He only has two more humans to kill to free her!"

Oh yeah, all the blame was heading her way. "I think some of my customers are going to want to talk this out. I have to now go through official channels. So . . . I'm gonna need about 30 contracts for this month, but next month I already had some that paid in advance, and they are going to need-"

"He's saving people from going through what I went through," Lydia said to her gently. "No one was ever able to save them before. Everything you suggested, they were all theories. Beetlejuice has already saved twenty of them. Hang on." She went back inside and brought out some envelopes. "Please, Miss Second Chance. Please read these? I know Beej' tricked you-"

"-he messed with the contracts-"

"-but he's really doing a great job. He's doing something no one else has ever done before."

Aw, Lyds. His sweet wife. He'd rather drown Number 2 in requests and arguments and violent tendencies of loved ones to make things happen. She preferred the being nice and dull approach. He'd complain, but he'd take out his annoyance on the next human he killed instead. He was getting good and creative at it. He even took suggestions from all his excellent clients. They had some nice, murdering ideas of their own.

"Have a heart, Miss Second Chance?" Lydia asked her. "Look at all these wonderful people Beetlejuice is helping. He doesn't go out and kill random humans or anything, he's just saving others that have a terrible eternity."

Yep, she was caving. "Because you aren't squandering it, and aren't doing it for yourself. Supposedly." She groaned. "Fine, but if you upset the balance and strike any people that haven't done anything, the right will be taken back away."

There were several cheers and thanks for mercy in the air for a little while until it winded down and they all headed out. He closed the door again and went toward Lyds. "That was the boring approach, couldn't you have let us bombard her with requests and drive her insane first? She did make money off us."

"BJ," she warned him as she picked up another unmoving. "This one should be starting to move soon."

Great, another one to drop off. Always awesome, but it didn't take long before another one would be in the Roadhouse. He heard his phone ring. A specific ring. "Hey, Ma."

"Aren't you going to visit with any grandchildren yet?"

"What do you mean? There's always one of them around."

"That's your wife's job, Dear. Those don't count."

"That's not real nice. She doesn't make any money at it."

"That's your wife's nonprofit job, Dear. It's still a thing. You've got a darling wife that helps the unmoved, and then helps them find families. That's sweet. That's not grandchildren."

Beetlejuice groaned. "Come on, that's mean. What if we adopt one for good?"

"That would be a grandchild. Do I have any grandchildren yet?"

Grr. "You can fade off to eternity without having a grandkid, Ma."

"No, I can't, Dear. You're married. You have a job. It's all still a miracle, so don't squander it, Dear."

"Well?" His mom was right. Things were good right now, but things changed overnight. Lydia was killed overnight. Turned into a dead shadow overnight. The afterlife changed fast. He was even on his way to hell, when she somehow pulled him right back. "Maybe we should start working on it." He hung up as he went toward Lyds. "Hey. You want to go on vacation, Babe?"

"But, we're really busy," she said. "I'm babysitting an unmoving and you still have thirty clients, Beej'."

"The unmoving won't move until we get back," he reasoned with her. "People will be there to kill when I get back too. And look?" He showed her his new Bio-Exorcist cards. "See? New cards came in, I might find non-local spirits that want to kill -er -save someone?"

"Hm. I guess maybe it's time," she bended. "A little break is probably good. As long as we aren't gone too awful long. What are we going to do?"

He smirked. "Nothing much."

"Beej? Are you planning on something happening? You already look guilty."

"Nah, what me? No way."

"You sound guilty too."

"Oh, come on. A nice little vacation with Beej'. That's not too scary, is it?"

"The last time you said I was on vacation, it turned out I was dead and I could turn into a dead shadow," she reminded him.

"Well, it's none of that this time."

She looked at him extra hard.

He just tried his best to smile.

"Mmm . . . okay." She gave him a small kiss. "One nice, relaxing vacation where we don't do anything."

"Yep. Just kick back and relax on a simple vacation," he agreed while he crossed his fingers behind his back.

Hey. A second honeymoon was a type of vacation.