章節 35: 35. She's Like The Wind
Chapter 35: She's Like The Wind (by Patrick Swayze)
"She leads me through moonlight, only to burn me with the sun. She's taken my heart, but she doesn't know what she's done..."
. . . . . . . .
"Hop, you really don't need to do all this," Joyce said as Hopper escorted her through the front door and over to the armchair in her living room, one arm wrapped around her and encouraging her to lean her weight into him.
"Yeah, I'm just gonna let you hobble all the way from the car and risk falling, sending yourself back to the hospital with some kind of internal bleed," Hopper said sarcastically as she sat down and he let go. "You wonder where your kids get their stubbornness,"
Joyce deadpanned at him, then readjusted herself in the chair, her face tightening slightly with discomfort as she did so. "I'm not on bedrest," She insisted under her breath as she favored her incision site and did her best to not let Hopper see her wince. "The doctor said I'm supposed to walk around to help heal,"
"Yeah, and that's what you did," Hopper nodded, stepping out of the room and raising his voice to continue communicating. "You walked with support to make sure you didn't fall on your ass," He said, returning from the bathroom with a bottle of Tylenol.
"Thank you," Joyce said, taking the bottle from him as he walked into the kitchen, running a glass under the sink and returning to hand her the water. "Look, Hop," Joyce said before popping two pills into her mouth and swallowing down a few gulps of water. "I do appreciate it; I'm just not used to… this sort of… thing,"
"Yeah, I know," Hopper nodded, sitting down on the couch adjacent to her. "You've always been that way," He said, casually reclining back against the cushions and looking around at the recently straightened up room. "Well, Jonathan's been busy around here. Looks good,"
"Yeah," Joyce smiled softly. "He's a good kid,"
"What time's he get out of school?" Hopper asked.
"Um…" Joyce hummed as she thought. "I think around 11-ish? He's part of that… work release program or something, but I'm not sure if he has a shift at the pharmacy today or not,"
"Okay well," Hopper said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as he faced Joyce. "Here's what I'm thinkin'. I'll stick around here for the next couple hours until he gets home, then I'll drive up and check on Will this afternoon before I head to the lab,"
"Hop, really -"
"Joyce," He said, giving her a pointed look.
"Don't you have work to do at the station?" Joyce asked, not entirely opposed to the idea of him staying for a little while to help but also not really wanted to admit that she needed some help in the first place.
"Oh yeah," Hopper said sarcastically as he shook his head. "Look, if anything actually happens, Flo knows to radio me. Otherwise, it's all paperwork and frankly, I don't really keep up on that anyway,"
Joyce gave him a slight look of disapproval but Hopper waved her off. "It's fine; Flo's got everything covered. Just relax, alright?"
"Fine," Joyce said, conceding. "I'm not in much of a position to argue, am I?"
Hopper looked her up and down with an amused expression. "Yeah, not really,"
Joyce smirked, deadpanning. "Shut up,"
. . . . . . . .
El had a hard time paying attention to her friends' chatter; all she could think about was Gabby's swollen lip and knowing how she probably got it. It was almost painful to have to restrain her powers, and her anger, around her new friends. Part of her wondered what the harm would be in letting them know about her abilities - they didn't need to know about the lab part - but at the same time, she knew that the more people knew, the more it put everyone at risk. The boys knowing and being tangled up in her mess as much as they'd been in the past was more than enough danger for her. Now that Will was looking to finally be recovering from his stint in the Upside Down, El was looking forward to what a normal life might be like. She didn't have much to compare it to but when she looked at Nancy's pictures on her wall and listened to her girl friends talk about their day to day lives, it made a normal girl's life seem possible.
She was feeling much better since her bout of stomach flu just a couple days ago and Mike had been keeping her posted on Will's status. From what Mike knew, Will was doing well and was supposed to be released from the hospital by Friday. El wanted to visit Will but after "catching a germ" from the hospital, as Mike had put it, she was a bit hesitant to return.
"How often do you have to rehearse?" Emma inquired as El refocused her mind back to the conversation in front of her. They were hanging out at Trish's house since Gabby didn't feel comfortable being at home, for obvious reasons.
"Um, I think it's every weeknight except Friday and then we have a couple dress rehearsals on the Saturdays before opening night," Gabby answered, smiling but calmer than usual. "We're doing a shorter version of the original musical so I think the show dates are at the end of March,"
"I told you you were gonna get in," Trish said with a smirk, plopping down next to Gabby on her bed. "You drive me crazy sometimes but no one's denying you've got a voice," She laughed, turning to Emma who was sitting on the floor skimming through a collection of cassette tapes in an old shoebox marked 'MUSIC' in permanent marker. "Hell, better than I could do, that's for sure!"
"Yeah, thanks," Gabby offered a smile, then sighed. "Man, I really wanted to play Fanny though,"
"Gabby, please," Trish scoffed. "Did you really think Mrs. McGreggor was gonna give the lead to anyone but Rebecca Dawson?"
"She gets it every year," Emma piped up, still perusing the tapes. "I think her mom and Mrs. McGreggor are really good friends,"
"Right," Trish nodded, patting Gabby on the back. "I heard they go to the same swim club or something like that. Classic favoritism. It's a bitch but hey, what can ya do?"
"It's still really cool that you're gonna be in the musical," Emma said brightly.
"Yeah," Gabby said, unable to keep from grinning. She was pretty excited. The news of the cast list being posted that morning and her supporting role were the only things keeping her spirits up after her dad's tirade the night before. "El, do you think you'll be able to come to the show? They're all gonna be on weekends and I know you usually go to Hawkins then,"
El wasn't sure what to expect from this show, other than it was something Gabby had wanted to participate in since before they even met. If it meant that much to her, she should go. Mike would understand if she didn't come down for a full weekend. They were actually getting used to the back and forth living situation, even if it wasn't preferred. "Yes," El nodded earnestly. "I'll come,"
"Awesome," Gabby smiled. "You probably wanna come to opening night. It's on a Friday and we'll have the biggest crowd then. And you could head down to Hawkins right after if you wanted,"
"Okay," El agreed, abruptly standing up and walking over to Trish's bedroom door. "Bathroom,"
"Last door on the left," Trish replied automatically then shook her head. "You know where it is,"
"You're not feeling sick again, right?" Emma asked, looking up with a mildly wary expression.
"No," El shook her head. "Pee,"
"Thanks for the report," Gabby laughed, laying back on the bed and reaching for her backpack on the floor to flip through her script for the twentieth time that afternoon.
As El padded down the creaky wooden hallway, she noticed the light in the bathroom was already on. Curious, she stepped forward and pushed on the door to see Trish's mom on the floor by the toilet, her head hung over the bowl in much the same fashion El herself become familiar with less than 48 hours ago.
"Sick?" El asked tentatively from her side of the cracked door, her voice barely audible but the echo in the room helped.
"I'm f-fine, honey," The woman slurred, her words obscured by the hair in her face and the alcohol in her system.
El quietly backed away from the door and trotted back to Trish's room, stopping in the doorway. "Your mom - she's sick,"
"Sick like how?" The girls ceased their chatting and Trish raised an eyebrow.
"Like me," El answered, darting a glance back at the slightly ajar bathroom door. "Throw up,"
"Ugh," Trish groaned, standing up. "She probably just had one too many of her afternoon 'smoothies'," El backed up as Trish came out of the room. "I'll check on her. You can use the bathroom downstairs,"
Without another word, Trish walked with a heavy gait over to the bathroom door and stepped inside without even knocking. El couldn't hear much from her side of the door but she could tell that what was going on with her mom really bothered Trish. She'd said before that it was because of her mom's drinking. El wasn't sure what 'smoothies' were but she guessed they had something to do with alcohol, too.
The whole notion of alcohol having that kind of effect on people scared El. Becky drank somewhat regularly, more now that she'd had to cut Rose's hours and more of Terry's care had been left on her shoulders. She'd work a long shift then come home and do everything from cooking dinner to bathing Terry to helping her get from room to room. While her mother was still locked away somewhere deep inside her consciousness, the connection between her mind and her body was all but completely broken. It was exhausting for Becky to deal with Terry's catatonic state and El could see it in the way Becky's shoulders hung and her eyes drooped with exhaustion. She'd fill herself up on coffee and cigarettes during the day and end the night with a glass or two of whiskey but El had never seen Becky act the way Trish's mom acted. How much was too much? Chief Hopper drank a lot, too. He always had empty beer cans around his trailer, though he'd gotten better about straightening up and putting them all in trash bags before El came over each weekend. At what point did alcohol start hurting someone the way it hurt Trish's mom? Why would someone do that to themselves? El still couldn't understand it. After all the times she's been forced to ingest things in the lab that made her feel strange or sick, she couldn't fathom why someone would do it voluntarily.
. . . . . . . .
Brenner was seated at his office desk with a couple of his highest ranking agents surrounding him as he casually flipped through the file in front of him.
"The girl is living in Clarksville with her aunt and mother, Terry Ives," Agent Carlson, a man in his 30s with a clean blonde comb-over said. "In the file you'll find -"
"I know who they are," Brenner interrupted in a steady yet authoritative voice. "Ah yes," He said, allowing the memory to drift through his mind like a puff of smoke. "I'm very familiar with the Ives family, thank you,"
"Sir," Kramer, the agent supervising Hopper, stood with crossed arms over his navy blue suit. "We have the information we need to retrieve the girl. The aunt works during the day throughout the week and the mother is a vegetable. We can easily pick her up while maintaining a low-profile,"
"No," Brenner breathed after a brief pause. "We need to handle things much more carefully this time,"
"Sir?" Agent Kramer inquired.
"We lost too many men in our last attempt," Brenner explained. "And with our recent discovery, we can't risk the publicity or any additional loss in manpower. Getting Eleven back is priority but if we are sloppy, she could escape again," He said, tapping thoughtfully at his chin as his brow furrowed. "We must tread lightly for now. I'd still like to see how much Mr. James Hopper knows about the situation. How has his work been lately?"
"No change," Kramer reported. "Our expeditions have primarily centered around collecting samples to support the development of the creature lab. He hasn't indicated any leads regarding finding the girl,"
"Any suspicious activity you've noticed?"
"No sir," The agent shook his head. "Nothing outside of what is to be expected,"
"You see," Brenner said, standing up. "I don't quite believe that. He must have played some sort of role in Eleven's reappearance in Clarksville," Unsure of what to say, the agents remained silent, obediently listening.
"Have your men investigate the police chief's involvement," Dr Brenner instructed. "In the meantime, we need to act before they move her to another location,"
"Should I send a car up?" Agent Carlson asked.
"Not yet, son," Dr. Brenner shook his head, an idea forming in his mind.
. . . . . . . .
Jonathan leaned lazily on the countertop at Hawkins Pharmacy, his starched blue vest bunching up as he did so. It was usually slow this time of day and he hadn't seen a customer in the better part of an hour. After school he'd gone home to check on his mom and was interested to see Hopper still there. While it didn't surprise him completely, it was still odd seeing another man taking care of his mom. The chief had said he was going to head up to Clarksville that afternoon to check in on Will and would call with an update. Jonathan had made sure his mom was set up with everything she would need while he was at work. It wasn't a long shift but he'd be a little late getting home to make dinner. Of course she'd insisted it wasn't a big deal and he shouldn't call out because of her, especially after having missed so much time already. Still, he felt a little guilty not being home, just in case.
As the mid-afternoon dragged on, Jonathan wished it would get busier. That at least would help him to stay out of his head and avoid stewing in his thoughts. The memory of seeing Nancy that morning was still etched into his corneas. He'd always been able to ignore the burning in the pit of his chest when he saw her but after everything that'd happened in such a short amount of time, that sensation had only intensified. From a smolder to an all-out inferno, he felt like he would melt from the inside out when he saw her. Her wavy brown hair falling gracefully over her shoulders like something of fairytales, her big blue doe eyes that somehow managed to hide the fierce woman within.
She'd been just down the hall from him, retrieving a few books from her locker before first bell, and he'd tossed and turned in his mind at the thought of going up and talking to her. About what? He didn't know. Everything he came up with seemed stupid as soon as he thought of it. After everything they'd been through together, why was this so difficult? A simple conversation? A hello? Anything. It was driving him crazy.
But before he could convince himself to approach her, Steve had walked up to her. Jonathan's eyes narrowed without even trying and the burning sensation in his chest felt like it would consume him alive. He watched as Steve draped an arm over Nancy's head, leaning against the lockers as he spoke to her. He couldn't see Nancy's face or hear her reaction but he'd seen enough. How could he be so stupid to think anything would change? What made him think he had any chance at being with someone like her? So their brothers were best friends and they'd known each other for years - big deal. That didn't mean anything. She was just shy of perfect and he was a social leper that was barely a step above trailer trash. He'd heard it enough times over the years to know what his peers whispered about him behind his back. What could he ever truly offer her in the grand scheme of things?
The sound of bells chiming above the front door broke Jonathan from his thoughts and he watched as Steve walked in with his friend Dave. They were talking about something and Steve seemed notably more subdued than his friend as they walked lazily through the aisles, picking up random snacks along the way.
Jonathan fought with himself to act normal and not let his thoughts about Nancy affect his interaction with Steve. After facing off against the monster together, they'd developed something of a mutual understanding or respect for one another, to use the terms loosely. They were okay. Steve didn't bother him and Jonathan concealed his bitterness toward the guy dating the girl he was… interested in. They weren't exactly friends but whatever they were was better than before, even if they never talked.
"Hey Byers," Steve greeted in a polite, almost monotone voice, setting his snacks on the counter as Dave came up behind him.
"So what do you and Ms. Princess have planned?" Dave inquired mischievously.
"I dunno, man," Steve said, turning to speak to Dave through gritted teeth before facing Jonathan again. "Just these, thanks," He turned and muttered something inaudible to Dave who only snickered. As Jonathan scanned the bags, Dave guffawed, pulling something off the shelf by the counter. "Here, throw these in for my man here,"
Jonathan stared at the box of condoms Dave had tossed unceremoniously onto the counter and he fought to keep his face from giving away the combination of anger and jealousy that had welled up in him like an active volcano.
"Dude, cut the shit," Steve said in an unamused tone, returning the condoms to the shelf. "You're not funny,"
"Yeah, whatever," Dave rolled his eyes as he dropped several bags of chips and a Gatorade on the counter as Jonathan kept quiet. He felt as though his feelings for Nancy were written across his chest and that the most subtle misstep could draw unwanted attention.
When the two teens finally left, Jonathan let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, allowing the scowl that had been building up to finally become evident on his face. As if he needed any further confirmation that nothing was going to happen between him and Nancy. She obviously hadn't broken up with Steve if he and his friends were still cracking jokes like that. He was an idiot to think anything would change.
. . . . . . . .
"Feel her breath in my face, her body close to me. Can't look in her eyes, she's out of my league... Just a fool to believe I have anything she needs..."
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[A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review and let me know what you think so far! We're heading into the climax (which will likely span several chapters XD) so yay! What do you think is gonna happen? Who do you want to see more of? What questions do you have? Let me know!]
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