Disclaimer: This chapter contains direct quotes from Stranger Things episode 2x08. May credit go to all those who deserve it.
Chapter Seven - Hidden
This year will be my third year working at Melvald's General Store with Joyce Byers. I had started there a year before Will disappeared. My first day on the job, Joyce had greeted me with a maternal smile that had crushed my worries, and in her company, I had found myself at ease for the first time in a long time.
For reasons I never understood, my Aunt always kept herself at a distance from the Byers family and tried to convince me to do the same, so working with Joyce was the only time I really got to talk to her. She was generous, sweet, caring, all the things my Aunt was not, which made working with her, and living next to her, all the nicer.
Prior to Will's vanishing, and again in recent weeks, Joyce had shown off Will's drawings, hanging them proudly in the store's backroom. Her eyes lit up every time she looked at them, just as they did when she was with Bob, who had dropped into the store numerous times only to see her. Damn it, up until the last few days, Joyce had been the happiest I had seen her since Will was lost.
I had never asked Joyce about the terror surrounding Will's disappearance, but there was no way I was going to make her relive the trauma. Watching her breakdown had been… difficult. I had covered many of her shifts while she was off trying to find him. Joyce's entire world revolves around her sons, and I am completely confident that she would do anything to keep them safe. As far as I was concerned, it was her devotion and commitment to finding Will that had ultimately saved his life.
Initially, I was too heartbroken by my own loss to concern myself with Will or even Barb for that matter, but as my wounds began to heal, I started to theorize. However, being so far out of the loop meant that I never got any answers. Barb is still lost, and I'm not entirely convinced she can be found. She's been gone for so much longer than Will was… but that doesn't mean we should give up on her. Barb was my friend too. My ties with her had been broken, and she had always been closer to Nancy, but why the hell does that matter now? All I know is that Will had been lost, he had been dead, then he had been found.
The sight of Will, lying on the sofa, pale, and unconscious before me, makes my stomach flip, yet again, and breaks me out of my reverie. Obliviously, I have drifted along with the crowd, all of us following Mike out of the kitchen to observe Will.
"I thought we couldn't trust him anymore. That he's a spy for the mind flayer now." The red-haired girl raises an eyebrow.
"Yeah, but he can't spy if he doesn't know where he is," Mike replies.
It is decided that they are going to destroy the shed and rearrange it into an unrecognizable environment. Then, they will interrogate Will and/or the demon possessing him. That sounds easier said than done.
Wasting no time, Hopper bursts through the front door and storms outside with Mike close behind. Hopper flings the shed door open and immediately begins to drag out the contents, chucking it into a disorganized pile in the yard.
When I hear the sounds of Mike closing the door behind him and stepping back into the room, I pull my eyes away from the window and let them fall on Will again, as tears threaten to stream down my cheeks. How had I hidden away from this family for so long? I may have been suffering, but what's happening in this town is so much bigger than all of us, so much more than one family can handle. For the first time since hearing Steve's voice through my phone, I am truly grateful for his call. Jesus, I really had abandoned everyone and I'm done wallowing in self-pity.
Jonathan adjusts infinitesimally next to me, shifting his weight between his feet, with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slumped. Cautiously, I lift a hand and place it gently on his back. At the contact, he turns to face me, our eyes glistening at each other.
"I'm so sorry, Jonathan." I breathe, unable to raise my voice much louder than a whisper.
During our moment, Joyce had come to stand at Jonathan's other side. Swallowing, I blink over at her, keeping my hand on Jonathan out of the fear that if I let go, both of us will fall to the floor.
"Joyce, I'm so… you don't deserve any of this."
Joyce places a hand over the one I have on Jonathan and pulls us both into an embrace. "Thank you for coming, Jessie."
Blinking again to stop myself from sobbing, I catch a glimpse of Steve over Joyce's shoulder. I wouldn't have come here if it weren't for him. The fragile smile he sends in my direction tells me he knows it, and he's no longer remorseful for getting me involved.
After a beat, we break away, and as Jonathan and Joyce move to the exit, the rest of the group breaks into teams and goes after them to tackle the various jobs needed to be fulfilled in order to transform the shed.
Striding back out into the forbidding evening, I am hit with a chill, but my determination to do my part to help my neighbours draws me in the direction of the shed. The open door reveals a glow just ahead of Steve and Nancy, who slip into the room before me. The small wooden space seems cavernous and strange in its empty state.
The three of us work in an awkward silence, Nancy ripping duct tape, and Steve up on a step stool while armed with the staple gun, as I hold piece after piece of cardboard and fabric flat against the walls. Eventually, it is Nancy who ends the quietness, peeking up at Steve between tape rips.
"Hey, what you did, helping the kids, that was really cool." She smirks gratefully at him, and he pauses, nodding.
"Yeah. Those little shits are real trouble, you know?"
"Believe me, I know." Nancy smiles widely at the floor, but when she glances back up at Steve hoping the tension had been broken, he not looking at her, but stapling without a trace of a smile on his face. Her attention quickly turns to me as Steve continues to click and thunk above us.
Nancy's eyes bore into mine, screaming in confusion and concern. If I were in her position, I wouldn't know what to say or think either. Steve's shortness should not be a surprise to her, but she's likely worried about him, and I know she's wondering how I got involved. Even so, she doesn't ask. Just as her lips part to vocalize her perplexity, Dustin trudges in carrying another armful of trash to adorn the walls with.
As always, thank you for reading, and stay tuned for Chapter 8.