Inside Out - Chapter Thirteen
summary: The party ventures to Hawkins Middle to test their plan. They won’t like what they find.
word count: 5.5k
warnings: n/a
[ masterlist ] [ FF.net ]
Christine—Needed a bigger radio. Gone to AV club. Be back soon.
Christine crumpled the note in her hand as she trudged up the steps to Hawkins Middle School. Her legs were screaming at her to stop moving, just for a while. She was getting seriously tired of all the running around. She was gonna kill Mike Wheeler when she found him.
Walking into the middle school always felt weird. Well, it hadn’t when she was still a student. She was only a year and a half out and already the halls seemed smaller than she remembered. Had she really sat at a desk that tiny in her English class? Or was that desk the same as the one she used now, only shrunken by memories?
That was one thing that made the hallways seem weird. All those memories. Her locker had been down this hallway one year. She remembered getting the zipper of her sweatshirt stuck in the door, and Barb nearly tearing her arm off trying to get it open again. That was the side door she usually left through when it was time to go to the high school for science. There was the athletics department corkboard, still full of photos of the school’s teams. Once she’d stolen a polaroid of Steve off when she thought no one was looking. It was probably still sitting in her desk at home.
The other thing that made it weird was the people. Or rather, the lack thereof. Christine had spent the entire ride to the school thinking of excuses, prepared to run into a concerned teacher who would want her off premises. But there was no one in sight. She peeked into a few classrooms, swung by the cafeteria, only to be met by silence at every turn. No one was hanging around.
She wasn’t surprised to find the door to the AV closet locked. It usually stayed that way until it was time for a meeting. She knocked hopefully anyway, and called through the door.
“Guys? Dustin? Mike? It’s Christine. Anyone in there?”
No response.
Christine sagged, chewing on her tongue. If they weren’t inside the AV room, they must be with everyone else. Besides a fire alarm, there was only one thing she could think of that would get everyone out of class like that. And seeing as a student’s body had been found at the quarry yesterday, she was willing to bet ‘assembly’ was the winning answer.
She made her way to the gymnasium. The distorted bass of the crappy sound system was echoing down the hallway. Knowing she was on the right track, she picked up the pace.
“The school counselor will be available should any of you need to talk,” the principal announced as she drew level with the doors. “But remember. Counselors aren’t the only people to ask for help. Turn to your parents, your teachers, your peers. We can all help each other, and keep Will Byers in our hearts. Thank you.”
Christine peeked through the window, but everyone was already getting up. The crowd stormed the doors, full of indifferent students who would rather be in class than pretend to care about Will. Christine had to scramble back against the opposite wall to avoid being flattened. She inspected the crowd, looking for Dustin’s hat or Eleven’s close-cropped hair. But none of the party was in sight.
“Christine?”
She whirled on the spot, and had to hide her disappointment when it wasn’t one of the kids.
“Oh, uh—hey Mr. Clarke!”
“What are you doing here?” he asked. His pleasant surprise turned stern as he added, “Shouldn’t you be in class?”
“Um…yeah, I know,” she said, running a hand through her hair and inventing on the spot. “But with everything going on, you know, with Will I just…I just wanted to be there for the boys.”
Mr. Clarke softened. He always did, at stuff like that. He was easily one of the most compassionate teachers at the middle school. It was what made him Christine’s favorite.
“I understand,” he said solemnly. “Still, skipping class…”
“My dad already knows. And…well, between you and me, Dustin’s missed curfew a couple times this week. The boys were so sure they were gonna find Will. So, his mom asked me to keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t run off.”
“Well, that’s good,” he agreed. “I mean, the whole thing is horrible, but I’m glad the boys have someone on their side.”
Christine smiled nervously. Kids were still rushing out of the gym, no nerds in sight. It was getting harder to hide her panic.
“You don’t know where they are, do you?” she asked fervently.
“Oh! Um…well, I don’t see…They were definitely here—I walked them down to the assembly a couple minutes late—but they could’ve slipped past us. I gave Michael the keys to the AV room, though, so that’s probably where they’re headed.”
“Okay, great! Well, it was nice seeing…”
“Nonsense! I’ll walk with you.”
“Oh…okay…”
Mr. Clarke led the way through the sea of students. Christine was still scanning the crowd routinely, but couldn’t find anyone she recognized. She was so focused she almost didn’t notice when Mr. Clarke spoke.
“So how are things going up at the high school?”
“Hm? Oh, um…they’re good. Normal. Mostly.”
“You’re still enjoying science?”
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m taking physics now. It’s not chemistry, but I still like it.”
Mr. Clarke smiled proudly. “A mind like yours, I’m sure Mr. Austin’s class is no match.”
“I don’t know,” Christine said airily, her mind drifting to a certain head of brunette hair. “Physics has its perks.”
“You know, I remember watching you in biology. You were always staring out the window or—or disassembling your mechanical pencil. That’s when I knew you needed a real challenge. I always knew we made the right call advancing you. One of the best decisions I’ve made as a teacher. Oh, and one of the hardest, mind you. But I’m proud of it. That, and pairing you with Barbara Holland for your first lab project.”
Christine was glad that he couldn’t see her miserable smile. “Yeah. I think that was a pretty good decision too.”
Mr. Clarke continued to talk as they walked to the AV room, talking about their latest ham shack and what kind of students he had in his classes these days. Christine listened, interested but too tired to truly participate in the conversation. It was a relief when they got to the AV closet. He let her be with an enthusiastic farewell, and a promise to catch up when all the craziness had passed. He was just about to leave when he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“I know things have been tough this week. But you’re a smart kid, Chrissy. I don’t think the boys could ask for a better mentor, or a better friend.”
Christine had been too embarrassed to muster a response. Thankfully, her bashful smile seemed to be enough. With a pat on the back, Mr. Clarke headed back for his own classroom.
It was a few minutes before the boys caught up to her.
“Christine!”
Mike skid around the corner first, grinning and out of breath. Dustin and Lucas almost collided with his back. They were giggling as well, impervious to her stern glare.
“Yeah, it’s me. What the hell is going on?”
“Aw man, it was sick,” said Dustin jovially. “We were at the assembly right? And Troy was being an asshole about Will, laughing through all of Principal Sherman’s speech. And then Mike goes up to him, right? And he shoves him over like…!”
“Not at the assembly,” Christine hissed. “I told you idiots to stay at the house! What are you even doing here? Someone could… Eleven?”
She almost hadn’t recognized her. Standing nervously at the back of the group was a small girl with light blonde hair. She wore high tube socks and a vividly pink dress, which looked at odds with her blue windbreaker. Gone were the circles under her eyes, the pale skin that almost showed her veins. It looked like she was actually wearing makeup.
Christine narrowed her eyes at the dress.
“Where did you get that? That’s not mine.”
“It’s Nancy’s,” Mike explained. “We had to go back to my house for the wig.”
“You had to—You went back to your house? Mike! What if someone had seen her?”
“They didn’t!” Lucas assured her. “We were super careful!”
“And it worked, didn’t it?” asked Dustin. “Even you didn’t notice!”
“Alright, if you were going to leave, why couldn’t you just use my clothes?”
“Cause you didn’t have a wig. Duh. Also cause Lucas was afraid to go in your closet.”
Lucas promptly shoved Dustin into the wall.
Christine sighed, rubbing her hands down her face. These kids were easily going to be the death of her. But before she could get too stressed, Eleven walked up to her side. She pulled on the sleeve of Christine’s flannel, and then pointed to her own hair.
“Same,” she said with a soft smile. “Pretty.”
The anger slipped out of her, which was very inconvenient.
“Yeah,” said Christine with a smile. She poked El on the nose, making her jump. “You’re very pretty, El.”
Lucas elbowed Mike, who rolled his eyes. “Can we get on with this now?”
Mike unlocked the door to the AV room, and all five of them piled inside. Just like the hallway, the room seemed smaller than she remembered. There were more electronics piled on the shelves. Mr. Clarke was always acquiring new toys without throwing out the old ones. However, there was one toy that stood out from the rest.
“Holy shit!” Christine was unable to contain a gasp of delight as she saw the radio on the table. She pushed through the boys, ignoring their complaints as she plopped down into the chair. “Holy shit! You guys weren’t kidding! This thing is huge! The signal alone—geez, this thing is a proper, international radio! And with technology like this? Shit, you could pick up walkies, pick up ham shacks, radios. Across oceans! You could hear anything!”
“Yeah,” Mike said sourly. “That’s kinda the point?”
“Come on, Chris,” said Dustin, easing her out of the chair. “You can geek out over the Heathkit later.”
Mike shook his head. “It’s like working with little kids.”
Eleven was ushered into the chair in front of the radio while Lucas locked the door. Then they all gathered around to watch.
“So how does this work?” asked Dustin. “Will doesn’t even have his supercomm.”
“It’s not a manual connection,” Christine explained. She leaned over the radio, powering it up and pulling El’s hand to the tuner. “She navigates the stations herself. Like she’s finding Will’s frequency, not his radio.”
She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket, unfolding it to reveal another one of Will’s missing posters. She laid it out in front of Eleven, who looked nervous.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Christine asked.
Eleven nodded stubbornly. She closed her eyes, and began to focus on the radio.
Loud static filled the room. Just like last night, the sound was enough to put her on edge. Something about it sent a shiver up her spine. She couldn’t tell if it was her anxiety, or some sixth sense that knew something unnatural was going on.
“She’s doing it,” said Mike in amazement. “She’s finding him!”
“This is crazy,” Dustin breathed.
“Calm down,” Lucas scoffed. “She just closed her eyes.”
On cue, the light over their head blew out. Everyone except Eleven jumped. Christine fixed the boys with a hard glare in the semi-darkness.
“Will the three of you shut up? She’s trying to concentrate.”
Dustin smacked Lucas on the shoulder. “Yeah, dude. She’s trying to concentrate.”
They quieted down to listen to the radio once more. It was definitely picking up something. There was a repetitive thud or—no, a clang. It sounded metallic, whatever it was. Too steady to be anything human, too slow to be much else.
Christine furrowed her brow. “What is that? Some kind of interference?”
She reached for the dial, only for Mike to grab her wrist.
“I don’t think so. Listen.”
It was quiet. Then a little louder, then a little more, like Eleven was honing in on the sound. In a matter of seconds, it had clarified to a whimper. That was unmistakably human.
“Mom?”
Just the boys’ reaction was enough to confirm Christine’s suspicions. Will’s voice pleaded from the radio, the clanging getting louder around him.
“Mom! Please!”
“No way,” said Lucas, and Christine shushed him again. But they were too frantic to listen to her.
Mike grabbed the microphone, repeatedly jamming his finger on the button. “Will!”
“Will, it’s us! Are you there?”
“Can you here us? We’re here!”
“Guys, stop,” Christine ordered. “Stop!”
“No!” Lucas yelled. Will was still pleading on the radio. “Why can’t he hear us?!”
“I don’t know,” Mike groaned. He jammed his finger on the buttons again. “Will?!”
“Guys, I don’t think it works like that,” Christine pleaded. “Will doesn’t have his supercomm, remember? This isn’t a real connection. There’s nowhere for your voices to go.”
The boys were ready to argue. But at that exact moment, the banging stopped. Will’s voice faltered, and another sound swelled in the speakers. It was…something she couldn’t place. Familiar in the way that crept up the back of your neck but didn’t quite connect in her brain. The only thing she could think to describe it was clicking, but not in the way a machine would. It was the way an animal might, if it was blind or making a call of distress. She racked her brains, trying to think of an animal that fit, but fell short.
The clicking grew into a growl, then a roar, and the boys turned to look at her in fear.
“Chrissy?” Dustin asked weakly. “What is that?”
“I—I don’t know…”
Will’s voice was growing frantic.
“Mom! It’s coming! It’s—It’s like home, but it’s so dark! It’s so dark and empty! And it’s cold! Mom? Mom, please!”
The roar turned into a high pitched screech, and all four of them stumbled back from the radio. They responded just in time. A moment later, the entire Heathkit radio went up in flames. Sparks flew out in all directions, and a cloud of smoke encircled the room.
“Shit!” Christine cursed. She scrambled around the table, pulling the kids back. “Shit, get down! Dustin! Fire extinguisher!”
Dustin was already a step ahead of her. No sooner had the words left her mouth than a stream of white shot at the desk. It kept the flames at bay, but the smoke had already triggered the alarm. Christine resisted the urge to cover her ears. She dove over Eleven instead, as if her body might be able to block her from the harsh, loud noises.
“It’s okay, El. It’s gonna be…El?”
For the second time in a matter of minutes, Christine was too shocked to finish her sentence. She knew that Eleven’s powers took a toll on her, but yesterday hadn’t looked like this. Already, she could see the blood seeping from her nose, the dark veins crawling over her head. Yesterday they’d been purple. Now, they were a dark and alarming black.
“El!” Mike was trying to elbow Christine out of the way. “Are you okay?!”
He and Lucas both let out gasps of concern when they saw her. But Eleven was completely nonresponsive. Her eyes wouldn’t focus on them, like part of her was still stuck someplace else.
“We need to get her out of here,” Christine ordered. “Now. Go! Move!”
She swept Eleven up into her arms, and the entire party fled for the door. The fire alarm was giving her anxiety, but it had its benefits. The whole school had been swept up into a frenzy. With everyone running up and down the hallway, no one looked twice at the nerds sprinting like they were being chased, or the random teenage girl carrying a sick child that didn’t even go to their school.
They had a short argument when they reached bike rack. Christine was reluctant to let go of Eleven, but Mike insisted that his bike would be better to transport El. In the end, Christine relented and gently loaded Eleven on the back of his bike. She slumped heavily against his back and Mike had to steer with one hand, the other holding her arms tight around his waist. Christine rode close behind them, just in case.
The fact that they made it back to her house without any major calamities was a miracle itself.
Christine ushered everyone through the back door, leaving their bikes toppled and askew in the backyard. She swept Eleven back up into her arms and carried her to the bedroom. Then she darted back to the kitchen, grabbing the same supplies as the night before, and returning to take care of Eleven. This was very difficult with the three boys hovering around her. Mike wouldn’t move away from the bed, and Dustin and Lucas seemed to be glued to Christine’s sides. After several minutes urging him to back up so she could wash Eleven’s face, Christine finally snapped.
“Out! All of you! Get out of my room!”
“But, Christine—!”
“Nope! Wait in the living room! You can check the windows, you can lock the doors, you can raid the kitchen, I don’t care! Just get the hell out of my room!”
She had to shove them into the hallway, and slammed the door behind them.
It was easier after that. She cleaned Eleven’s face and tried to get her to drink some water. The problem was, El was still in shock. Her arms hung like deadweight, and Christine couldn’t even change her out of the dress and into something more comfortable. The only time she got a response was when she tried to take off the blonde wig.
“No…”
Eleven couldn’t lift and arm to stop her, but she whined as Christine pulled it from her head.
“I know,” she whispered gently, running a hand over Eleven’s natural hair. “But you’ll sleep better like this. And you don’t want to get blood on it, right?”
She whined again, looking longingly at the wig.
“How about this? I’ll let you hold it, and you can keep it right here. This way if you want to put it on when you feel better, you can.”
The offer was good enough that Eleven summoned the strength to take the wig from her, and hugged it to her chest. It broke Christine’s heart in a way. This tiny girl had superpowers, but the thing she cared about at that moment was keeping the wig that made her feel pretty.
“I’m gonna go talk to the boys,” Christine said, patting the blankets. “Will you be okay for a few minutes?”
Eleven nodded. Or she tried to, but she already appeared to be half asleep. Christine waited until she’d stopped moving, checked to make sure she was still breathing steadily, and then headed out to the living room.
“Is she okay?” Mike demanded as soon as he saw her.
“She’s fine,” Christine assured him. “I told you, it drains her. I think holding the connection for so long was risky, especially after she was pushing it last night.”
She collapsed into the armchair, rubbing her temples. The boys were scattered throughout the room. Lucas was sitting on the couch, his head similarly in his hands. Dustin sat on the floor, his legs in front of him, his arms limp. His mouth was hanging open as he stared into space, like he was still trying to process everything that had happened since that morning. And Mike, of course, was pacing around the room. Christine wasn’t going to waste energy telling him to stop.
At a loss for anything else, she cleared her throat. “Lunch?”
There was no response. But what other choice did she have? So she dragged herself to the kitchen and started making sandwiches.
Christine wracked her memory for the next hour or so, but she couldn’t think of a time the party had been this quiet for this long. She couldn’t remember a time where just Dustin had been quiet for this long. It was unsettling. She didn’t blame them, of course. Not after what they’d heard. But she couldn’t figure out what to say. Any assurance that Will was fine would be sickeningly hollow. She wasn’t prepared to make anyone believe that, not when she could still hear the unearthly clicking in her ears. And she knew the others must be hearing it too.
It wasn’t until later, when the boys had picked apart their food, when Christine had tired of watching them pretend to eat, when she’d taken the plates back into the kitchen to wash, that someone finally spoke.
“Is this seriously all we’re gonna do?” It was no surprise that Lucas asked. “We’re just gonna sit here eating PB and J’s while Will’s somewhere out there being hunted?”
“We don’t know that,” tried Mike.
“Yes, we do! You heard it! I heard it! We all heard it!”
“What was it?” asked Dustin shakily.
“We know what it was. It was the Demogorgon!”
“You said the Demogorgon wasn’t real!”
“Did that thing sound real to you? Cause it sure as shit didn’t sound like anything I’ve heard before!”
“Okay, hold on,” Christine interrupted. She threw her towel down on the back of the couch, hoping she seemed more authoritative than tired. “One thing at a time, remember? We can’t help Will until we know where he is.”
“But we don’t,” said Lucas. “All of that, and we still don’t know! I mean, what was even the point of this?”
“Because El was telling the truth,” Mike said fervently. “We know she wasn’t lying. We know Will’s alive.”
“Yeah, but for how long?” Dustin asked.
It sent a chill around the group, which Christine did her best to push out of the room.
“Focus. First thing’s first. What did we learn from the radio?”
“Right,” Mike agreed. He was pacing again. “What was Will saying? Like home…Like home…but dark?”
“And empty,” Lucas added.
“Empty and cold,” said Dustin. “…wait, did he say cold?”
“I don’t know! The stupid radio kept going in and out.”
“It’s like riddles in the dark,” Dustin sighed.
“He kept calling for his mom,” Christine supplied.
Mike gave her a weird look. “What does that matter? He’s scared. Of course he was calling for his mom.”
“I don’t know. It sounded more like he was talking to her. One half of a conversation.”
“Okay,” Lucas said slowly. “But Will’s mom isn’t missing.”
Christine frowned. That was a point. If Will was…somewhere, and his mom wasn’t, how was she talking to him too? Unless she’d also found a powerful superchild to help her contact “the other side.” She wanted to ask, but she couldn’t imagine how that conversation would go. Was she just supposed to call up the Byers house and ask if Mrs. Byers had spoken to Will lately? She couldn’t even tell her about Eleven. What if Christine was wrong, and she just pushed a grieving mother to the edge? What if Jonathan picked up the phone instead?
“Like home,” Mike was still muttering. “Like his house?”
“Or maybe like Hawkins,” said Lucas.
“Upside down.”
Everyone turned to the hallway, where Eleven had reappeared. The circles under her eyes had faded a bit, but she still looked unsteady on her feet. Her wig was back in place, albeit slightly off center.
Christine would have rushed to her side, but Mike beat her to it. He grabbed her by the arm, helping her over to the couch so she could lie down. Lucas scooted out of her way, wrinkling his nose.
“What did she say?”
“Upside down,” Mike repeated. “Upside down!”
“What?”
“When El showed us where Will was, she flipped over the board, remember? Upside down!”
“Wait, when was this?” Christine asked. “The board?”
“For our campaign. We were in my basement, and she said Will was hiding. Then she flipped the game board upside down. Dark, empty!”
“Do you understand what he’s talking about?” Lucas asked Dustin, who shook his head.
“No.”
“Guys, come on, just think about it,” Mike complained. “When El took us to find Will, she took us to his house, right?”
“Yeah,” Lucas said flatly. “And he wasn’t there.”
“But what if he was there? What if we just couldn’t see him? What if he was on the other side?”
“Wait, the other side?” Christine asked, squinting. “Are we back to the ghost theory?”
Mike groaned. Without invitation, he grabbed one of the magazines off the coffee table. Then he went to Christine’s card table and grabbed the sharpie she’d been using to do flashcards. Uncapping it, he began scribbling over the back of the magazine.
“Hey! I was reading that!”
“Shut up, it’s just an add.”
He scribbled until the whole thing was black, then tossed the marker aside. He tapped on the front of the magazine.
“Look, what if this is Hawkins, and this…” He flipped it around to show them the black side. “…is where Will is? The Upside Down.”
“Like the Vale of Shadows,” said Dustin, finally catching on.
“Beyond the veil?” Christine asked. “It still sounds like we’re talking ghosts.”
“No, not ghosts. Dungeons and Dragons.”
Dustin held up a finger, running to his backpack. He pulled out a thick black binder, which he slammed on the coffee table next to the ruined magazine. Christine watched as he flipped through pages and pages, all adorned with pictures of large dragons, elves, and dark forests. Involuntarily, she raised an eyebrow.
“You carry your rulebook around with you?”
Dustin glared at her.
“Here,” he said, when he’d found the correct page. “The Vale of Shadows is a dimension that is a dark reflection or echo of our world. It is a place of decay and death. A plane out of phase. A place of monsters. It is right next to you and you don’t even see it.”
There was a heavy beat as all four of them exchanged dark looks.
“An alternate dimension,” Mike breathed into the silence.
“But…how…how do we get there?” Lucas asked.
Dustin checked the page. “You cast Shadow Walk.”
“In real life, dummy.”
“We can’t shadow walk, but…maybe she can.”
In unison, they all turned to look at Eleven. She was dozing on the couch, still half asleep, but her eyes were open.
“Do you know how we get there?” Mike asked, and somehow Christine was still surprised by the gentleness in his voice. “To the Upside Down?”
Eleven shook her head into the pillow.
Lucas groaned, but Christine shook her head.
“Forget about getting there. How do we even find it?”
“Well it’s the Upside Down, right?” Dustin tapped the floor underneath him. “Hypothetically, you open a portal and there it is.”
“Yeah, but what if you open the portal and get the wrong one?”
“What do you mean?” asked Mike.
“Well, we’re talking about alternate dimensions, right? The multiverse?”
The boys blinked at her.
Resigned, Christine walked around to the coffee table. She kneeled next to Dustin and picked up the magazine.
“You’re talking about the Upside Down like it’s the only other possibility. But quantum physics suggests that if there’s more than one dimension, then there’s thousands of them. Infinite dimensions stacked on top of each other. And because they each exist in a relative state, there’s no definitive order to them. Kinda like this.”
Christine held up the magazine. She showed them the front, then the back, then all the pages in between.
“So the front is Hawkins, the back is the Upside Down, and in between you have infinite possible alternate universes. And every time I open the magazine, the pages are moving around. I’ve got no way to know if I’m gonna open up on Hawkins version one, twenty, or seven million three hundred and sixty-seven.”
“So how do we get to the Upside Down?” Lucas asked.
“I don’t know,” said Christine. “That’s what I just asked.”
“You don’t know?” Dustin asked incredulously. “How can you know all of this and not know?”
“This is theory, Dustin! None of this shit has been proven until now. If Will’s in another dimension, it’s the first time in scientific history it’s happened.”
“Then guess! You’re in physics, right?”
“I’m in high school physics! Not quantum physics, dumbass!”
“She’s right,” said Mike. He was looking warily at the magazine. “We need someone who knows more about this than we do. Someone who really knows their stuff.”
“Mr. Clarke,” Dustin answered almost instantly. Lucas and Christine shot him the same disbelieving look.
“Really?” Lucas asked. “You wanna ask our science teacher how to open up a portal between infinite dimensions on the forefront of scientific research?”
“Yeah. Do you have a better idea?”
Lucas turned to Christine, who shook her head. Ideas were something they were fresh out of.
“Okay,” said Mike, slipping back into plan mode. “So we bike back to school and find Mr. Clarke. Then we can ask him…”
“No one is biking anywhere,” said Christine.
“What? Why not?”
“Mike, we just set fire to the most expensive radio AV club has ever owned. Do you want to go back and face Mr. Clarke right now?”
There was a grumble as the boys agreed with her.
“Whatever you want to ask Mr. Clarke can wait until tomorrow.”
“Shit,” Dustin groaned. “Tomorrow!”
“What?”
“It’s Will’s funeral.”
Christine sighed. “Alright. So we go to the funeral, and afterwards…”
“Why do we have to go to his funeral?” Lucas asked. “He’s not dead, he’s in trouble. We can’t waste time going to his fake funeral.”
“And you don’t think it’s gonna look weird if Will’s three best friends don’t show up?”
“Who cares if it looks weird?” asked Mike. “We’ll just say we were grieving and it was too painful to go.”
“No,” Christine said again, putting her foot down. “Look, setting off the fire alarm today was bad enough. We’re not supposed to be drawing any attention to ourselves, remember? Incognito. Eleven has to stay hidden.”
“Then she can stay here with you,” said Mike. “We’ll go to the school, and…”
“Mike, you’re not listening to me. You said there are people looking for Eleven, right? The bad men? And that they have insane resources that could probably monitor even an anonymous tip to the police station and get her caught?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So, don’t you think they’d be monitoring this whole town for weird things? Will is the only kid to go missing in this town for probably like a century. And if the three of you don’t keep up appearances there, it’s gonna qualify as a really weird thing. We go to the funeral, and deal with Mr. Clarke after. He’ll probably be there anyway.”
“What about Eleven?” Mike asked. “She can’t come with us.”
“She’ll be fine here by herself. The funeral will be an hour, tops.” Mike made to argue, but Christine held up a hand. “I will come directly back here, Michael. There’s no adults, she won’t go near the windows, and no one will see her. It will be okay.”
Mike turned to the other three kids. Again, they were out of ideas and options. Lucas and Dustin merely shrugged. Eleven just followed the conversation with wide eyes and no input. Finally, after staring at her for several seconds, Mike sighed.
“Don’t call me Michael,” he grumbled. “What are you, my mom?”
As the planning continued on, Christine couldn’t help but think that she certainly felt like it.
15 notes
·
View notes