Chapter 9 – 'Everything's got a moral if only you can find it.'
They hadn't spoken for two weeks and Hopper was suffering. He conveniently forgot that it was his own, self-imposed radio silence that had led him to his current sorry state.
Joyce had left numerous messages on his answer machine and was now resorting to asking Eleven to relay her concerns.
Eleven had resorted to standing over his bed every morning, hands on hips with a look of disgust in her eyes at her bearded, blurry eyed father. 'Pops, you smell bad. Ring Mrs Byers please'
Hopper replied; 'Don't wanna', into his pillow. He hadn't been sleeping well, his dreams were full of Joyce surrounded by admirers whilst she laughed at him. He felt it was much easier to stay in bed if he was going to be laughed at when he was awake as well. Their last conversation had proven a torment to him, how could he show her that he took thing seriously, that he wasn't a joke? That his days of sleeping around were long gone?
Eleven had been regularly speaking to Will on the phone. Will reported that Mrs Byers seemed really miserable, but wouldn't tell her boys what was wrong. It made the young girl angry and frustrated that Mrs Byers was unhappy, and that her father was the cause. She found it incomprehensible that someone so responsible as Hopper could be so childish. Eleven had however, cunningly left her jacket behind when she was last at Will's, and she'd been working on Hopper to go and pick it up for her for the last few weeks.
'Pops please get my jacket, it's been there weeks and the weather will be getting colder soon.'
Hopper grunted into the pillow again.
Eleven raised herself to her full height and said in a voice of such authority; 'Chief Hopper' that he turned to squint at her.
'If you don't go and get my jacket, I will have to use the mail order catalogue again.'
Hopper sat bolt upright and in a voice of panic said; 'Not mail order again!'
'Yes', she said as though someone had died; 'The mail order catalogue'.
Hopper thought back to his daughter's first experience with mail order, and the shock to his system and wallet when he had come home to stacks of packages. He had been almost frightened of his daughter when he had told her that he couldn't afford it, and most of it had to be sent back. Her mood has caused the power to go out almost constantly for a week afterwards.
'Ok, I'll go'. He said; 'Just stay away from the catalogue. Please?'
'OK', Eleven smirked as she skipped out of the room.
Joyce was on the phone when he knocked, he heard her shout; 'Come in' but he deliberated awkwardly on the porch as he warred between wanting to see her and running away.
Joyce started and gave an uncomfortable little wave as she turned to look when Hopper stomped into the living room. Mouthing to him to sit down, she turned back into the kitchen. Hopper fell onto the sofa, his hands placed deliberately on his thighs, like a kid waiting outside the principal's office. He heard her laugh, it was self-conscious and throaty. The noise made the jealous beast in him rise again, he felt like he was constantly on the edge of anger lately.
By the time that Joyce walked into the living room, Hopper had worked himself up into a fit of sulking resentment.
'So… met any more teenage boys lately?'
He knew that it was a disastrous mistake as soon as the words had come tumbling out of his mouth. Joyce appeared to double in size like a bristling cat. Even whilst he sat there in his savage mood, he noticed that she looked even prettier than normal, she had done something with her hair, and he thought he could even see a bit of make-up. Whilst the visage caused him pleasure, the realisation of a blooming Joyce only added to his conviction that she was on the lookout for a man. He suddenly lost any semblance of rationality that he had been holding on too.
'Well it's nice to see you too Hop, thanks for returning my calls by the way.'
'Sorry, I've been busy processing horny 15 year olds.'
'Well that must have been rewarding, did you need something?' Hopper could see that she was almost crackling with anger now. It only spurred him on.
'Eleven left her jacket here.'
Joyce disappeared and returned with the girl's denim coat, throwing it at the smirking man in front of her.
'Thanks, so was that your boyfriend on the phone? It's sweet that he calls you during recess.'
Joyce had dealt with an irrational Hop many times before, but for some reason, his smug expression was just too much for her to bear. Maybe it was the fact that she had last seen him in chivalry mode, driving her home like the old days. Then she hadn't seen or heard from him for weeks. She had already been flustered when Hopper came through the door, she'd been speaking to Karen who was relieving their night out with painful detail. Joyce's memory of their night out was sketchy at best, and to hear about the drunken dancing, flirting with young men and being put over Hopper's shoulder had left her burning with shame. Karen had just started talking about Hopper's obvious jealousy when Hopper walked in.
Karen was giving a blow by blow account of all the desperate looks of desire that Hopper had been throwing her before she realised Joyce had gone silent.
'You still there?'
'Yep' Joyce said quietly.
'Hang on, is Hopper there? Right now?'
'Err, yes', Joyce said with a throaty laugh.
Karen squealed and made Joyce promise to call her back later.
'This is better than those trashy romance novels!' Joyce heard her say before she hung up.
The conversation had left Joyce in increasing frustration, to hear of his potential jealousy had caused a rush of desire to form like a knot in her lower stomach. His arrival seemed like an exhilarating prompt of fate. That was until Hopper had opened his mouth.
'Let's cut the shit jokes Hop, c'mon get it all off your chest. You've obviously got something to say.'
Joyce folded her arms in an effort to control herself, he rose and approached her, his eyes flashing dangerously.
'What do you think you were doing?! Do you have any idea how desperate you looked?'
'He was barely an adult!'
Joyce screamed at the top of her lungs; 'SO WHAT?!'
'I had no intention of sleeping with him! And even if I did, I wouldn't be doing anything worse than you men who go out and look for some young impressionable woman to fuck!'
Hopper stuttered; 'That's different!' as he caught the accusation in Joyce's eyes.
'Yeah for men it's acceptable. A woman even considers it and she's a whore. I can do what I like, and that includes sleeping with whoever I like. So, what was your excuse for being desperate!?'
He mouthed silently for a few moments; 'You know I was going through some stuff.'
'Haven't we all been through some 'stuff'?! I lost my boyfriend Hop, he died right in front of my eyes. I needed a night off to try and forget this gnawing guilt, and you have the audacity to come into my home and tell me how to behave?!'
Suddenly feeling the weight of his conscience, Hopper reached out to her, but she pushed him forcibly away; 'Don't touch me.'
There was silence for several minutes, which were torture to Hopper's feelings. He tried to say something only to hear Joyce's hurt voice say;
'I honestly thought you'd be the last one to judge me.'
'I..'
Joyce stared him down, her eyes illuminated by unshed tears. He desperately wanted to tell her that it was all jealously. That he couldn't bear the idea of another man succeeding where he couldn't even endeavour.
'You what, Hopper? What's all this about? I wasn't doing anything illegal, I was safe. I just wanted to feel good for a while.'
'Joyce, I'm sorry. I just wanted to protect you.'
'I didn't call you, Karen did. If you were that worried about me, maybe you should have stuck around at the bar because right now I don't need a protector. I need a friend.'
Hopper stood uselessly by the sofa, his arms hanging comically beside him.
'You're right, I'm so sorry Joyce, I am your friend and I'll always be here for you.'
Joyce scoffed before saying; 'I think you've proven what sort of friend you are. You better go.'
She almost couldn't bear the hurt look in his eyes when he turned to leave, but she was absolutely exhausted by his judgement and the never-ending emotional whiplash.
The house felt unbearably silent after the door shut behind him. She sat on the floor of the kitchen, crying tears of betrayal and frustrated hopes until Will got home from school.
Hopper drove like a man possessed on the way back to the station. He barely looked at the road in front of him, and instead spent his time in an angry internal monologue about what a complete fool he was.
Turning on the radio in an effort to distract himself, the opening bars of 'Every breath you take' reverberated around the cab.
Hopper groaned at the universe working against him, as it simultaneously started to rain. He stared furiously out the windshield at the road in front of him, but unbidden tears started to form despite his best efforts.
'Dammit' He said as he started to slap himself in the face.
'Pull yourself together Man!'
'Mom, why is the Chief hitting himself in the face?' Said a young boy waiting at the intersection, hypnotised by the image of Hopper shouting and slapping himself.
The mother tried to place her hands over her child's eyes saying; 'Don't look Tommy, he's obviously having some kind of episode.'
Hopper saw the horrified look on the woman's face as her child pointed at him, but for the moment he really didn't care.
'I feel so cold and I long for your embrace
I keep crying baby, baby, please'
