River Princess

 

Chapter 11

Threats and Comforts

Beetlejuice was sunbathing on his roof when she came to his house. She called out from his front door, “Hey, your Prince called me!”

He shot up and looked down to see the tall woman with tanned skin and blood colored hair. “Brunhilde!” He jumped off of his roof and slammed his feet into the ground below. He stretched out his hand and said, “Sup?”

She was only a few inches taller than him, but she looked down on him as if he was much shorter. She looked at his filmy hands with bloodstained fingertips and said, “No.” Brunhilde took a step backwards. “Filthy little ...” She shivered, horror on her face. “I don't want to waste time with you, so tell me, Lydia Deetz; that's her name?”

He nodded. “The girl who walks between two worlds, my buddy.”

Brunhilde looked at one of her nails, which looked too strong to break. “Okay, so you think one of my babies has been fucking around with her?”

“Uh yeah.” Beetlejuice said, pulling on his comical looking swim-trunks. “MY baby was sexually assaulted. I'm an asshole, but that's a real dick move.”

“Was she raped?”

“She didn't give any details. She just said she was touched, and she wasn't in any pain.”

Brunhilde exhaled. Her face became cool. “Well that's a comfort. He said something about shadows?”

“Yeah. I thought it had to be one of your babies.”

Brunhilde turned around and walked off, saying, “Tell her I'll make her life easier.”

He couldn't help it. He thought he had to say it or else he'd burst with laughter. “Tell It I said I'm sorry for my whole existence!”

“It?” Brunhilde halted for a moment, shouting out, “It knows and loves everyone!” Then she kept walking. Beetlejuice felt pretty confident.

***

“I know, my little baby … I know you're hurting, and I know you're also delighting in hope.

I know.

But the little black lamb is a tender one …

Sometimes you just can't stop yourself.

You just want to grab her.

I saw you grab her too … too roughly.

I saw what you did.

I didn't like it.

Then someone complained to me.

I won't say who yet.

Oh … my baby.

I swore on my soul that I would help you, because you are my favorite.

I have so much invested in you.

When you died a second time, didn't I save you?

Didn't I give you another chance?

I'd be so upset if you died.”

Vlad had not expected the queen to speak so gently to him.

But when she stabbed his throat with a railroad spike knife, twisting it and pouring in salt to increase the pain, he knew she was still sane.

As she healed his rather serious wound with her own dripping blood, she cooed him to sleep.

There wouldn't even be a scar; he knew that.

He wished she would tell him who complained to her.

He made a mental note to ask Lydia if she had any interesting friends, when she trusted him.

***

On a Monday morning Charles Deetz received a disturbing phone call from his brother. His father had died in Las Vegas; a heart attack got him. He told his family at breakfast.

Delia asked, “Do you want to go to his funeral?”

“I'd rather not,” he admitted.

He didn't have a very good relationship with his father. All Lydia knew about her grandfather was that the man was a bit of a gambler.

Charles' face looked pale, and Lydia wasn't sure why. She asked him if he was sick. He gave her the shakiest smile and told her he was fine.

***

“Am primit un telefon de la Charles Deetz,” Vlad told his son and the queen that evening. I received a call from Charles Deetz.

They had decided to take a peaceful and almost normal dinner together in the kitchen. Sometimes sipping warm blood from a wine glass was appropriate for him. This was one of those times.

Mihai looked up from his plate. “Credeți că el a găsit ceas de aur m-am ascuns?” Did he find that gold watch I hid?

“Da, el a găsit ceasul. El a constatat, de asemenea, brosa lui Delia. A încercat să te sun. Telefonul dvs. trebuie să fi fost oprit.” Yes, he found the watch. He also found Delia's brooch. He tried to call you. Your phone must have been turned off.

Mihai looked back at his plate and stabbed his food.

“Cine ai fost al naibii de?” the queen asked him enthusiastically, as if it was her business. Who were you fucking?

Mihai didn't answer her, and she didn't press him.

Vlad didn't care what Mihai had been doing at the time. He continued with the important matter. “El a întrebat dacă ar fi jignit dacă el a vândut darurile, inclusiv colier lui Lydia.” He asked if you would be offended if he sold the gifts, including Lydia's necklace.

Both Mihai and Brunhilde looked at him with the most confused eyes he had seen them have in a long time. “Sunt brusc săraci?” Mihai asked. Are they suddenly poor?

“El nu a explicat,” Vlad said. He did not explain.

“Ai o șansă de a te răscumpere, Vlad,” Brunhilde told him, sounding like a mother. You have a chance to redeem yourself, Vlad. “Familia are o problemă. Rescue le.” The family is having a problem. Rescue them.

“Îl voi invita la un restaurant mâine.” I will invite him to a restaurant tomorrow.

***

It was a very high class restaurant. Charles Deetz didn't exactly look out of place in it. He just looked very nervous and tired. An unusual amount of darkness was under his eyes.

When he sat down at the small table in a corner with Vlad Dalca he smoothed down his pants and shirt and even smoothed down his napkins. His knee bounced. Vlad remained serene.

“Thanks again for dinner,” Charles said, looking at his knuckles as if they had been injured recently and he wanted to examine a scar.

“How else am I to act towards a newly discovered friend?” Vlad told him.

He tried to keep Charles calm by telling him pretty things, and when they received their food Vlad mentioned Lydia. “Your daughter is a little delight. I know you have pride in her.”

Charles nodded, but he seemed to tremble.

Vlad called a waitress to refill Charles' glass, and when she was gone he told Charles, “Mihai was embarrassed to learn that he did not receive your call, but we both wonder if you are having a serious problem. We know you want to dote upon her, and to sell the necklace she adores … that seems very peculiar.” His voice lowered. “Are you having financial problems? Is there a way I could help you?”

That was Charles' breaking point. He sunk his face into his palms and whimpered. “The worst part ...” He seemed afraid to say too much. “The worst part ...”

Patiently Vlad waited.

“Poor Lydia,” Charles blubbered, earning the attention of quite a few people. Vlad ignored their stares. “Lydia ...” the sad father said again, “She could be sold into ...”

Knowing exactly what it usually meant when the word sold was involved with a beautiful young woman, Vlad gripped the edge of the table. His chest felt like foam was expanding in it, and his whole body wanted to shake but he stopped himself from showing his anger.

“Explain,” he growled out at him.

“Here? Can we go somewhere private?” He pushed his fingers down a little to show Vlad his pleading brown eyes.

“I will take you to a brothel if you want, but you will explain this problem.”

***