Chapter 2

Monday, May 15, 2000

At exactly 5:45, Mike sat down in a little corner booth at Rocco's Cafe on the corner of 9th and Walnut. He took off his damp coat and hung it on the back of his chair. It was still raining, although the rain had slowed to a drizzle.

Mike had left work early, before he had finished all of the projects at his desk. Mike never did that. Although he technically only worked until five, Mike never left until everything was done. It was why his boss loved him. Well, for that reason and others. But Mike didn't want to think about work. He wanted to think about Eleven.

Was it possible that they had been living in the same city, 2,000 miles away from where they had first met? San Francisco was a big place, but Mike wondered if they had ever crossed paths before. Had he walked by her on the street and didn't recognize her? If she hadn't said the name 'Mike' into her cell phone, would Mike have even stopped to talk to her?

Mike thought about his first day in San Francisco. After graduating from college with a degree in computer programming, Mike had received a job offer from Thompson's Computers. At that time it was a small start-up company in San Francisco led by Jeff Thompson, a visionary in the computer programming field. Mike had moved out to the west coast, saying good-bye to his best friends Lucas, Dustin, and Will. The truth was, even though he would miss them, he wanted to get out of Hawkins. It held too many memories of Eleven.

Mike's first few weeks in San Francisco were a blur of a new job, new people, and city streets he wasn't used to. He paid way too much for a crappy apartment that was way too small and always seemed to smell like feet while he tried to find his place in the new landscape. After a few years, the small start-up company he worked for grew and grew until it was a multi-million dollar company. Mike had stuck with them the entire time, but sometimes he missed that smallness of the company he had started with. Sometimes he wished he could go back to the one room office, rather than standing in elevators with people he didn't know and working in a glass office with furniture that probably cost more than his parent's house. It was amazing how quickly time flew. And yet, every minute without Eleven felt like an eternity.

Looking at his watch, Mike began tapping his foot nervously. It was 5:58. Any minute she could walk through the doors. He didn't know what he was going to say. If she truly had no memory of him and her time in Hawkins, how would he ever convince her of who she was? And what if he was wrong? What if she wasn't Eleven, but just some woman who sounded like her and looked like her? But who else would have "Friends Don't Lie" tattooed on her body?

Another ten minutes went by. Mike couldn't help but stare at the door to the small cafe. Every time it opened, he almost jumped out of his seat. But every time it wasn't her. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. Mike couldn't remember the last time he had been that nervous and excited all at the same time. Yes he could. It was the Snowball in eighth grade. The minute Mike saw Eleven walk into the gym when they were twelve years old, he felt that rush of nervous, excited energy. She was the only one he had ever known who could do that to him.

Five more minutes passed. Was she just running late or was she not coming? Mike tried to put himself in her shoes. What would he do if some stranger came up to him on the street and told him he was someone he couldn't remember? Would he listen or tell that person to go to hell? What if she really wasn't coming? What if Mike really never did see her again?

The door to the cafe opened and Mike glanced over. It was her. Standing there in her black skirt, white sneakers, yellow rain coat, and tattered leather satchel across her body she scanned the cafe, looking for him. Mike waved to her and she made her way over to them. He stood up as she approached.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

"I was...I was afraid you weren't going to show up."

"I wasn't going to," she admitted, taking off her coat and putting it on the back of her chair. "After meeting you, I went back to my office and convinced myself not to come."

"What made you change your mind?" He asked, thankful that she had changed her mind.

She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's because I've always liked a good mystery or because...I felt bad knowing you'd be waiting here. I figured I at least owed it to you to show up."

"I appreciate that," he said. "Can I get you coffee or tea or anything?"

"No thank you." There was a long pause. Neither of them knew what to do or how to begin. "So…"

"So…" he mimicked. He couldn't help but stare at her. She was a beautiful woman, anyone with eyes could see that. But Mike could tell she didn't care much about her appearance. Her hair was its natural brunette color, her face was makeup free. She wore no jewelry, including no wedding ring, which Mike was glad to see.

"I'm Jane," she finally said, reaching her hand across the table to shake his hand.

"Jane?" He questioned, the name sounding foreign coming from his lips even though he knew Jane was the name Eleven had been given at birth by her real mother. She nodded. "It's going to be...weird to call you that."

"That's my name," she stated, leaving no room for argument. Mike had to bite his tongue to keep from calling her El or Eleven. But he couldn't scare her away. If he was too persistent about her past, she might run from him. He had to tread lightly. And if that meant calling her Jane - so be it.

"I'm Mike," he said. "Mike Wheeler."

"What do you do Mike Wheeler?" She asked as if they were on a first date just getting to know each other.

"I'm a computer programmer," he answered. "Or I was. I mean, I still am, but these days I mostly oversee other computer programmers. I work for Thompson's."

She raised an eyebrow. "Thompson's? As in the company that sold their product to Microsoft for millions of dollars a couple of years ago?"
"Yeah. That would be it. I was lucky enough to start with the company when it was small. I guess you could say I've grown with it."

"Impressive," she said.

"I guess. What do you do?"

"I work for the state in the Human Services Agency," she answered. "I'm a social worker. I help kids in the foster care system or kids without a home."

"That's noble work."

She shrugged. "It's not easy, but someone has to stand up for these kids."

"It doesn't surprise me," he said. "That you'd end up doing that kind of work. After all, you were basically an orphan yourself."

"An orphan? I was an orphan?" She asked. "In San Francisco?"

"No. In Hawkins, Indiana. That's where we met."

"Do you want to start from the beginning, Mike?" She suggested. "How you think you know me? Who you think I am?"
"Yeah, I can do that," he said, settling back in his chair. He thought about how to begin. "It was...ah...1983. November. One of my best friends, Will, went missing one night."

"Missing?"
"He was riding his bike home from my house, but he never made it home. Nobody knew what happened. They found his bike in the woods. My friends and I all went out looking for him one night. We weren't supposed to, but...you know, we were kids. Anyway, it was pouring and freezing, but we were determined. That's when we met you."

"In the woods?"

"Yes."

"I was just out there? Alone?"

Mike nodded. "It was the craziest thing. You were just standing there in this over-sized yellow T-Shirt. No jacket, no pants even. Your head was shaved."

"I had no hair?" She questioned skeptically. "Did I say what I was doing out there?"

"You didn't really talk at first so we brought you back to my house."

"You didn't think to call the police?"

Mike shrugged. "We were kids. We were more afraid we'd get in trouble with our parents for being out in the woods at all. Anyway, I got you dry clothes and let you sleep in my basement. You told me your name was Eleven. You had a small number eleven tattooed on your wrist. In the same place you have that scar."

Jane covered her left wrist with her right. Although it was only a small scar, she suddenly felt ashamed of it.

"Why would a kid have a tattoo?" Jane asked.

"I didn't know it then, but you were part of a government experiment at Hawkins Laboratory."

"A government experiment?" She mocked. Mike could tell that she wasn't believing him. It did sound extremely far-fetched.

"I'm not crazy," he said. "I mean, I know it sounds crazy and I probably wouldn't believe me either if someone was telling me this stuff, but it's true. All of it. We found out that you knew Will."

"Your lost friend?"

"Yes. You were able to communicate with him. He was stuck somewhere that we called the Upside Down."

"The Upside Down? What is that?"

"It's hard to explain. It's like…an alternative universe."

"This is getting a little ridiculous," she stated.

"I know it sounds that way, but...Hawkins Lab was doing these experiments. As part of those experiments, you opened a gate to something we called The Upside Down. And Will was taken by a monster called the demogorgon."

"The demo...what?" Jane asked.

"Demogorgon. But Will's mom was able to communicate with him using lights," Mike explained, talking faster. "And you, you used a radio to talk to him. You have powers. You can see things in your mind."

"Like a mind reader?"

"Not exactly. It's like, you can see people in your mind, but I don't think you can actually read their mind. And you can make things happen. Like...you flipped a van once."

"A van?"

"Yeah. We were riding our bikes trying to get away from the bad guys and the van was coming at us, probably going to kill us. But you flipped it right over our heads."

"With my mind?" She continued, her voice showing him that she didn't believe him.

"Yes. You were helping us find Will. We knew he was alive. We just had to get to him. In the end, Willl's mom and Hopper…"

"Hopper?"

"Yeah, the chief of police. They found Will in the Upside Down. And we...you, me, and my friends fought the Demogorgon. Well, actually it was more you. You managed to kill it, but you were sucked into the Upside Down. I didn't know if you were still alive. It was almost a year later when I found out Hopper had been keeping you, isolated from everyone. By then, we learned the Upside Down had spread and there were these things we called Demodogs running around and…"

"Stop," Jane said, putting up her hand. Mike stopped. He knew he had explained too much. The story was unbelievable. Even Mike knew that.

"I know that this is hard to believe," Mike said quietly.

"It's not just hard to believe. It's impossible to believe. This is all a very good story. Maybe you should be a science fiction writer, but…"

"I'm not making it up," Mike insisted. "Ask Hopper. He'll tell you."

"Hopper? The chief of police? In Hawkins, Indiana?" Skepticism dripped from her voice and she wasn't holding back.

"He was the chief of police," Mike corrected. "I'm assuming…he must be the man you think is your father or something. He must have taken you away and erased your memory. Unless the government took you."

"The government didn't take me," she insisted. "I've lived with my father my whole life."

"So you did live with Hopper."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped. "My father's name was Ray and our last name isn't Hopper."

"He probably changed his name," Mike said. "To protect you both. Jim Hopper always wore a hat and...and really liked coffee. Does that sound like your dad?"

"That sounds like every middle-aged man."

"Look, your dad has to be him," Mike insisted. "He wouldn't take you away and leave Hawkins just to give you to somebody else. He'd want to protect you."

"This is getting to be a little too much."

"Do you have a picture of him?" Mike continued. "Of your dad?"

Jane sighed. She contemplated whether or not she wanted to go down that particular rabbit hole. She questioned whether or not she should have shown up in the first place. Who was the man sitting across from her? What did he want from her? On the other hand, he was compelling. Jane felt drawn to him. And hadn't she always questioned what the first thirteen years of her life were like? Hadn't she wondered why she never got her memory back? More than that, she remembered the reoccurring dream that she always had. In the dream she was sitting with a brown haired boy, eating Eggo waffles, and laughing. Jane never knew what it meant. Could the man named Mike sitting across from her be that boy? Or was it just a dream?

Jane reached down into her satchel that she had placed on the floor. She took out her wallet and pulled out a picture on a small card. She put it on the table and slid it in front of Mike. It was a photograph of her father. Mike recognized him instantly. He was a little older, but he could still see the younger man that Mike knew so well.

"That's him," Mike said, studying the picture. "That's Hopper."

"You could say that about any picture of any man," Jane retorted.

"Ask him. Just ask him about your past. Or better yet, take me to him. He'll remember me. He'll have to admit everything."

Jane flipped the picture over. On the back of the card were the words 'In Memoriam. Raymond Smith. 1942 to 1996.' Mike stared at the obituary card. He couldn't believe it. Hopper or Ray or whatever his name was, was dead. He locked eyes with Jane.

"I'm sorry," he said although it didn't seem like the words were enough. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you," she replied, taking the picture and placing it back in her wallet.

"How did he die?"

"He was shot."

Mike was taken aback. He expected her to say that it was some disease or maybe even a car accident. Mike wasn't expecting him to have been murdered.

"How? By whom? Was he still in the police force?"

"My father wasn't a police officer. He was a private investigator. He was tracking a man who was worth millions who was cheating on his wife. The woman was going to divorce him and take all his money. So the man hired a hitman and had my father killed. It happened one beautiful, sunny Sunday afternoon. My father was coming to visit me in my apartment. He did it every Sunday. The hitman shot my father in the hallway of my apartment building. I watched it happen. My father died in my arms."

"I'm so sorry, Jane," Mike said, reaching across the table to take her hand. But she moved it away. "Did the hitman get caught?"

Jane nodded. "He and the millionaire who orchestrated it both went to prison."

"And you've been all alone ever since?"

She shrugged. "It's easier to be alone." Jane stood up, ready to end the conversation. She hated thinking about the day her father died. Instead, she chose to focus on how he had lived.

"You're leaving?" Mike asked.

"Look, I know you...miss this person...this girl called Eleven and I'm sorry. But I'm not her. If she even existed at all. Your story is awfully far-fetched."

"I know it sounds crazy, but it's not."

"And I'm just supposed to believe that?"

"There must be something I can do to…" Mike said, feeling frantic. "I mean, how do you explain your tattoo? Friends don't lie?"

"I got that tattoo out of rebellion when I was seventeen. I just picked the first thing that came to mind."
"But it must have come from somewhere. It came from me."

"I'm sorry. I have to go," Jane said, putting on her coat. She slung her satchel over her head and left arm so that it draped across her body.

"Wait," Mike said, digging through his briefcase. He pulled out a small card and a pen. He scribbled something on the back and then held it out to her. "Take this. It's my business card. That's my cell phone number on the back. You can call me any time. Day or night."

"I…"

"Please, just take it. You don't...you don't have to use it, but at least you'll have it."

"Fine," she said, taking the card. She slid it into the front pocket of her satchel. "It was nice to meet you."

"It was nice to see you again," he said, catching her eye. Jane hesitated for a moment and Mike thought she might be changing her mind about leaving. But then she turned and walked away.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the overwhelming positive response for the first chapter. I wasn't sure how this story would be received because it's so…different. This chapter was a little tough because I wanted to include a lot of detail and back story. I hope it didn't disappoint. There's lots more to come so stay tuned!