Doll Face

Halloween Harlots

Chapel and Velma are back in Halloween Town where it is as empty as Chapel's heart is hopeful. The townsfolk know better than to be out this late at night with Oogie's cronies out and about. The two women are the only ones walking down the lonesome cobblestone street as they're faced with a difficult task; one that leaves Chapel conflicted. Did Oogie plan the whole thing knowing she'd be intrigued?
Velma watches Chapel struggling with herself, "We're not really going to kill Jack...right?"
Chapel shoots her arm out to stop Velma from walking. She asks coldly, "Why are you here?"
"Oogie told me to––"
"No, I mean, why would anyone want to work for Oogie? Are you that desperate for money?"
Velma crosses her arms and cocks her head as she studies Chapel, "Are you that desperate to save your kids?"
"That," Chapel looks away from her as she clenches her fists, digging her fingernails into her palms, "Is none of your business."
Velma sighs and simply says, "Look man, we all have our reasons. Let's just leave it at that."
Chapel glares at her for a minute, "You better not be planning to kill Oogie."
Velma gulps, "And why's that?"
"'Cause, that's my job."
Taken aback, Velma clears her throat, "Oh, uh, good luck with that."
They enter through the private, wrought iron gate of Skellington Manor; a tall Gothic castle with a gangly watchtower protruding through the second story roof. The two women climb the narrow stairs. Chapel slowly creeps the door open.
Velma chimes, "Shouldn't we knock?" Chapel ignores her and proceeds to go inside. Velma follows. "I don't think anyone is home," She whispers after a while of roaming around the dark living room.
"Jack? Are you home? It's me, Chapel," She proclaims in the empty house, searching for a light. "I housesat for you once when you and Sally honeymooned in Valentine City," She rambles on.
Just then, they are welcomed with a bright light shining through the darkness, illuminating the room with an orange glow. It's Zero, the ghost dog. He wisps around the room and growls at them.
Chapel steps back and hisses, "Hush Zero, down boy!" Zero continues to bark. "This is pointless," She sighs in distress.
"What were you planning to do if he was here?" Velma watches as Chapel rummages through a stack of old books on a desk by the window. The moonlight casts down through the glass, shining on her raven hair and inked skin. She looks angelic for a split second as the glow creates a halo on the top of her head before a cloud covers the moon. Velma quickly looks away and tends to Zero, laying in his bed with a treat she had taken from the cookie jar.
Chapel opens one of the books. Velma notices the title, Handbook for the Recently Deceased. Chapel brushes her fingers against the frayed pages. "He defeated Oogie once before. Maybe he can do it again."
"Something tells me it takes more than just a loose thread to kill the Oogie Boogieman," Velma says. "We're gonna need something with a little magic and a whole lot of style."
Puzzled, "What are you talking about?"
Velma simply grins. She steps into the moonlight and twirls. Her dress twirls with her, gliding around like an elegant ballerina. Tiny herbs are embedded in the fabric of her dress. The smell is bitter, like unripened tomatoes.
Chapel knows exactly what it is. She's smelled it before, "Deadly Nightshade."
"You betcha!"
"I don't understand. What are you gonna do with poisonous herbs all over your dress?"
"A magician never reveals her secret."
Chapel scoffs, "You're insane."
Velma stops twirling and joins Chapel by the desk. "I want Oogie dead as much as you do. But you and I, we gotta work together on this. We're a team. I'm gonna need to borrow your shoes."
"My shoes..." Chapel glances to her black crocodile heels with a large bone on the fronts of both. "What for?"
"They're really cute and I think it'll put this whole outfit together. Don't worry, I'll give them back."
"Well okay... if it'll help."
The two of them switch shoes; Velma slipping on Chapel's heels and Chapel wearing Velma's ten inch stilettos.
"Look at us," Velma says as they both stand in front of the mirror above the fireplace. "We're just a couple of Halloween harlots painting the town black and orange. Nothing can stop us!"
Chapel's face falls into a pit of despair. "I wish I could believe that," She mutters. Her mind goes to her children and how she longs for them. She wonders where they might be and if they're all right. She wonders this a lot actually. Could a mother's love for her children be strong enough to conquer a monstrous man like Oogie Boogie? She clenches her stomach as it suddenly starts to ache.
Velma notices her apprehension. She smacks her lips, "Did you know, I once stole from one of the most dangerous drug lords in all of St. Patricksville wiping out their entire supply? I then sold the remains to the Easter Bunny and made a profit. I had the best sex of my entire life that night." She rests her hand on her heart as she remembers that night. "Want to know what the Pot O' Gold at the end of a rainbow really is?"
Chapel just shrugs.
Velma leans in, "Crystal meth."
Chapel crosses her arms and contemplates this, "Huh."
"The point is, we're invincible. Believe it, honey. Because the only way we're gonna bring that sack of bugs down is if you trust me."
Chapel nods her head, "Okay."
Velma's voice softens, "Your kids. That's why you're doing all this." She opens up her hands as if all this could fit in her palms at once.
Chapel purses her lips as she bends over in her seat, twiddling her thumbs and then tucking them in her sleeves. She bows her head for a moment; her long raven hair falling past her shoulders. She takes a shaky, deep breath and says slowly, "What I did was unforgivable." She squeezes her eyes shut and rolls her hands into fists until her knuckles turn white. "We were taught by our mothers to be the best version of ourselves. To be generous, compassionate, forgiving–– that that's the only kind of beauty that matters, what's inside. Little did I know I should have taken that literally. That inner beauty was more skin and bone than I could have ever imagined." Her face scrunches at the verge of tears. She covers her face with her hands. "And I just gave them away like they were nothing," She sobs.
Velma steps away from the window and sits on her knees before Chapel, who doesn't notice her until she gently removes her hands from her mascara-smeared face, holding them by the wrist on her lap. "I haven't talked to my father in ten years," Velma says. "Ran away from home when I was eighteen and never looked back." A blurry flash of needles protruded from her arms. A crowd of strangers looked down at her with their faces blotted out of a vague memory. "I don't think I've realized how much my father loved me even with all the things I've said and done..." She gnaws at her bottom lip as she remembers the night she left home. She thought she was breaking free. Another flash of her in a strange bathroom. This one is clearer. She looked like a wreck in that mirror; hair tangled, face covered in dirt, clothes reeked of booze and cigarettes. This was the night she wanted to die. She thinks of her father and hopes he's doing well, wherever he may be. She swallows down those bitter tasting memories and tries to focus on the rhythm of her heartbeat. How lucky she is to have a dancing pulse. "We can't blame ourselves for the things we've done in the past. All we can do now is move on and change for the best," Velma wipes away a tear from under Chapel's eye. The two women stay like this for a good while, both holding on to each other's hands as if they're life preservers. "Let us be the best versions of ourselves."