This chapter is mainly focused on Dustin, Steve and Robin and their quest to figure out the Russian Transmission, along with Nancy and Jonathan investigating the rabid rats in Mrs. Driscoll's basement.
"Have a nice day." Robin Buckley deadpanned as she held out two ice cream cones to the couple in front of the counter.
"Thank you!" The girl said cheerily, and the couple made their way out of the shop, only for her to be face to face with a teen in a yellow and green hat, smiling as though it were the best day of his life. It was kind of adorable, really, but she hated this job too much to be too enthused about it.
"Hi!"
"Hi." she replied, placing the palms of her hands flat on the counter and staring at him.
"I'm Dustin." he pointed at himself and then at her.
"I'm... Robin." Guess we're introducing ourselves now .
"Pleasure to meet you. Uh, is... is he here?"
"Is who here?" she asked, a slight musical lilt to her voice. Suddenly, the door to the back room slammed open and Steve slid out of the room as if he were in a movie.
"Henderson." Dustin started laughing, and Steve started jumping, doing a little dance. "Henderson! He's back! He's back!" he exclaimed
"I'm back!"
"Hey! Oh!" They started doing a very weird hand shake, but she couldn't help but watch, her eyes drifting back and forth between the older teen and younger teen.
"How many children are you friends with?" she asked, and he wiped a bit of spit from his mouth and gave Dustin a look, nodding and gesturing towards her.
"No, no. No way." Steve shook his head as Dustin stuffed his mouth with ice cream. "Hotter than Phoebe Cates? Absolutely no way."
"Mhm! She's brilliant, too. And she doesn't even care that my real pearls are still coming in! She says kissing is better without teeth." Steve made a face at the last comment, and had many things he wanted to say, but decided not to.
"Wow. Yeah, that's great. Proud of you, man. That's kinda romantic. Like… That's just… Wow." Dustin hummed, smiling to himself. He glanced at Steve as he mixed his ice cream in with what was melting.
"So do you really just get to eat as much of this as you want?"
"Yeah. I mean, pretty much. It's not really a good idea for me, though, because I gotta keep in shape for the ladies."
"Yeah, and how's that working out for you?" Robin snickered from the front.
"Ignore her." Steve huffed.
"She seems cool."
"She's not. So, where are the other shitheads?" Steve asked. "Mike is always in here ringing that damn bell to drive me insane."
"Well, you and Jonathan want to be his big brothers as you call it, so what did you expect?" Steve waved him off. "Either way, they ditched me yesterday."
"No!" Steve exclaimed, shocked.
"Okay, no, they didn't really ditch me, but it kinda felt like they did."
"What do you mean?"
"They surprised me with a sign that said welcome home, and El was moving my robots and stuff and it scared the shit outta me, Steve, like I almost shat myself." Steve snorted at the use of shat . "Anyways, they surprised me and I accidentally sprayed Lucas in the eyes with the hair spray you gave me, and Max helped him with his eyes and I showed everyone the stuff I made at camp and yadda yadda yadda, we went out to the highest point in Hawkins that I know of and set up Cerebro-"
"What's Cerebro?"
Dustin completely ignored him, "and we all sat up there while I tried to contact Suzie, and I was feeling shitty about it, and you know, Mike being our gracious and loyal leader that he is, made me feel a lot better about shit but then he had to get El home-" he took a deep breath, the first one in a minute or so, "and then Max and Lucas left to do their own thing, you know. Then Will left because it was getting late-"
"So they didn't really ditch you at all." Steve deadpanned.
"Shut up. As soon as they left, it happened. Like, literally after Will was out of my sight it happened."
"What happened?"
"I intercepted a secret Russian communication." Dustin whispered.
"What?"
Uh… I intercepted a secret Russian communication." he repeated, a little bit louder.
"God, just speak louder, dipshit. I know you can."
"I intercepted a secret Russian communication!" he exclaimed and the shop went silent for a moment, people stopping to look at the two, before everything went back to normal.
"Shit, shh. Yeah, okay, that's what I thought you said." Steve rolled his eyes. "What, uh... What does that mean?"
"It means, Steve, we could be heroes. True American heroes."
"Huh." he made a face.
"Mhm?"
"American heroes." Steve liked the sound of that.
"Just think, you could have all the ladies you want and more."
"More?"
"More."
"I like more." He really liked the sound of that.
"Mhm."
"What's the catch?"
"No catch, I just need your help."
"With what?"
"Translation."
Robin was really getting to be at her wits end with these customers- mainly, the children .
"Mmm." Erica Sinclair, quite the regular at Scoops Ahoy, hummed in thought.
"Can I try the peppermint stick?"
"Haven't you already tried the peppermint stick?" Robin eyed her suspiciously.
"Yes, and I'd like to try it again." God, this child had an attitude.
"Steve!" she yelled.
In the back, Dustin sat at their breakroom table, playing the recording off his tape recorder, and Steve paced in front of him, eating a banana.
"So what do you think?" Dustin asked.
"It sounded familiar." he said, stuffing a piece of the banana into his mouth.
"What did?"
The music- The music right there at the end." he wiped his mouth and liked his fingers.
"Why are you listening to the music, Steve? Listen to the Russian! We're translating Russian!" he snapped.
"I'm trying to listen to the Russian," Steve pointed his hand at Dustin, one cheek so full of banana he looked like a chipmunk storing it's food. "-but there's music-" he was cut off as Robin stomped into the breakroom.
"All right, babysitting time is over. You need to get in there." she huffed and felt the slightest bit more enraged when she saw her hard work on the white board had been erased. "Hey, my board! That was important data, shitbirds."
I guarantee you, what we're doing is way more important than your data." Dustin rolled his eyes.
"Oh, yeah?" she snorted and Steve tossed the mostly eaten banana onto the table, crossing his arms confidently. "And how do you know these Russians are up to no good anyways?"
"How does she know about the Russians?"
"I don't know."
"You told her about-"
"It wasn't me."
"Hello, I can hear you. Actually, I can hear everything. You are both extremely loud." she rolled her eyes, swinging the ice cream scoop around in her hand. "You think you have evil Russians plotting against our country, on tape, and you're trying to translate, but haven't figured out a word because you didn't realize Russians use an entirely different alphabet." she crossed her arms. "Sound about right?" She made a mad grab for the tape recorder and Steve snatched it before she could get her hands on it.
"Whoa! What do you think you're doing?"
"I wanna hear it!"
"Why?" they chorused, Dustin eyeing her suspiciously.
"'Cause maybe I can help." she shrugged. "I'm fluent in four languages, you know.
"Russian?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Ou-yay are-yay umb-day."
Steve laughed in shock, eyes widening and Dustin laughed, "Holy shit!"
"That was Pig Latin, dingus."
Steve picked up the banana on the table only to smack Dustin on the shoulder with it.
"Idiot." he muttered and Dustin glared at him.
"But I can speak Spanish," she sat in the empty chair next to Dustin. "French and Italian, plus I've been in band for twelve years. My ears are tiny geniuses, believe me." the bell on the front counter dinged relentlessly.
"Uh…"
"Oh come on, it's your turn to sling ice cream, my turn to translate. I don't even want credit. I'm just bored ." She held the ice cream scoop out to Steve and after a moment of hard contemplation, he snatched it out of her hand and gave her the tape recorder.
Nancy and Jonathan knocked on the front food of the Driscoll residence, and it was only a moment before a short, plump old lady opened the door.
"Yes?" she asked, looking between the two.
"Mrs. Driscoll?" Nancy questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes?" she asked again
"Hi, um, I'm Nancy. Nancy Wheeler. We spoke briefly on the phone last night? We're from The Hawkins Post." she gave her a nervous smile, smacking herself in the thigh with the notepad in her hand.
"Oh! Oh, yes!" she exclaimed. "Oh, my goodness. You sure look too young for reporters."
"We get that a lot." Jonathan chuckled nervously.
"Follow me." she motioned for them to follow her inside and they did, shutting the door behind them.
"Oh, it's... it's lovely." Nancy said, looking around. "Um, do you live here all alone?"
"Yes. Jack, my husband, he passed away, what is it now," she looked up for a moment, before looking back at Nancy, "ten years ago.
"Oh, um... I'm... I'm so sorry."
"Oh, don't be. I kinda like the quiet. At least, I did." she made an almost… evil face, and motioned for them to follow her again. "This way," She led them to a door that went to the basement, and she slowly made her way down the stairs, and they followed. She turned the light on and said,
"It's right over here."
She gestured to quite a few half empty fertilizer sacks. Nancy hesitantly walked over to the bags, kneeling to pick one up, still holding her notepad in one hand.
"You see those little teeth marks, don't ya?" she asked. Jonathan snapped a picture of her holding them, and she resisted the urge to glare at him as she looked his way. She looked back at Mrs. Driscoll for a moment.
"And… these bags, um… you're sure they were full before?" Nancy asked.
"I'm old, honey, not senile." she replied. "Bought them over at Blackburn's Supplies just last Tuesday. Now you tell me, why would rats want to eat
a poor old woman's fertilizer?" Nancy wrote down most of what she told her, before saying,
"Are you sure they did?" Nancy stood, looking between Mrs. Driscoll and the bags. "Maybe they just gnawed the bag? I mean… eating fertilizer seems…"
"Crazy. Believe me, I know, honey." she nodded, agreeing with Nancy. "But… Something's not right with these rats."
"What does that mean, exactly… not right?"
"Rabies, my guess." she shrugged. Nancy raised an eyebrow. She sort of had a point. She began writing on her notepad again. "That's when I said to myself, "Doris, you gotta call the paper." Because if those diseased rats
are runnin' loose, the people, they oughta know. Wouldn't you agree?" Jonathan nodded and Nancy was about to speak when there was a loud crash from somewhere in the basement. "Oh, yes, I forgot to mention!" She raised a hand up for them to follow her again, and they looked at each other. "Come on over here! I caught one of the little bastards."
There was a cage, covered in a sheet, on top of a washing machine. The apparent rat squealed and rattled the cage.
"We're gonna have to keep doing this until you stop moving, you little shit." Jonathan grumbled, taking picture after picture of the squealing rat that kept running into the sides of the cage, trying to break out.
"Hi, yes, um, this is Nancy Wheeler from The Hawkins Post." Nancy spoke into the upstairs phone. "Yeah, um… I have a bit of a weird question for you. I was wondering if you guys had gotten any recent calls about, um… rabid rats?" She waited a few moments while the person on the other line spoke.
"No, uh, rabid rats. Rats with rabies? No? Okay, um… What about just rats, in general?" she grimaced a little as they spoke. "Uh-huh. Okay. Thank you." she sighed as she put the phone down.
"You're a regular little detective, aren't ya?" Mrs. Driscoll commented as she waddled over with a glass of lemonade. "Lemonade? It's fresh-squeezed." Nancy gave her a small smile.
"Sure, thanks. Um… Do you mind if I make just a few more calls?"
"Not at all. I enjoy the company." Nancy put the cup down and turned to the phone book, flipping the page.
Jonathan was still in the basement trying to get a picture of the rat. He'd turned his back for a few seconds when the room suddenly went quiet, and he turned back to the rat.
"You all right, little dude?" It was still squealing, but lying on its side now, writhing as if in pain. Jonathan furrowed his brows. Before he really had a chance to think about what was happening, Nancy rushed down the stairs,
"Jonathan! I have a lead." she grinned at him.
Uh… Yeah, okay, but, uh… I just think there's something really wrong with this rat." he pointed at the cage and then turned towards it again.
"Yeah, no shit. Come on." she turned and ran back up the stairs.
"No, I…" he started, and gave up, letting out a groan and grabbing his things, following her up the stairs. "Nancy, wait up."
"Wait, that last part, just one more time." Robin said, and Dustin replayed it, "Okay, that word. Um… It's pronounced... dly-nna-ya." she said, pacing back and forth.
"Dly-nna-ya..." Dustin repeated.
"Which is spelled…" She and Dustin looked at the Russian Alphabet they'd written on the whiteboard. "D... D, D, D…"
"The... The chair. The chair-looking thingy!" Dustin pointed. Robin wrote it down, and after a moment, slammed open the windows to announce to Steve,
"We've got our first sentence." she grinned.
"Oh, seriously?"
"Yeah, the week is long." she told him with an accent. He made a face.
"Yeah, that's super thrilling."
"Maybe, but it's progress."
Steve turned back to his customers, flashing them a grin.
"Okay, here you go, you got a strawberry and then a vanilla with sprinkles with extra whipped cream." Steve gave the two young teens their ice cream, then realized it was both Max and El, said, "Are you even supposed to be here?"
"Dad grounded me and Mike from doing homework. Called him dense." El said and Max snorted.
"Wheeler is dense, correct."
"I don't know what that means." she replied, cocking her head to the side.
"Ask him, he'll explain it to you." Steve told her. "Speaking of that demon child, where is he, if you two are supposed to be out on the town or whatever?"
"He's fucking around the perfume with Will and Lucas." Max told him, putting a hand on her hip as she and El stood at the side of the counter, so Steve could get the next customer. She looked back at him. "Lucas just sprayed him in the face with perfume, so we should probably go fix that. Come on El, bye Steve!" she called, dragging El with her.
"Bye Steve!" El repeated, waving her ice cream at him.
"Bye!"
The mall was closed now, and had been for a few hours, but Dustin, Steve and Robin were still there.
"The week is long, the silver cat feeds, when blue meets yellow in the west." they chorused, making faces.
"I mean, it just… it just can't be right." Steve said, pulling the gate down and kneeling to lock it, turning to look at the two behind him.
"It's right." she replied, confident.
"Honestly, I think it's great news." Dustin said as he and Robin walked ahead of Steve.
"How is this great news?" Steve asked, walking to catch up with them. He flung his hand around for emphasis. "I mean, so much for being American heroes. It's total nonsense."
"It's not nonsense. It's too specific. It's obviously a code." Dustin rolled his eyes.
"What do you mean, a code?" Steve asked.
"Like a super secret spy code."
"That's a total stretch."
"I don't know, is it?" Robin asked, glancing back at him.
"You're buying into this?" Steve asked, eyes widening.
"Listen, just for kicks, let's entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission. What'd you think they were gonna say, fire the warhead at noon ?" she said.
"Exactly!" Dustin agreed.
"And my translation is correct. I know that for sure, so… the silver cat feeds . Why would anyone talk like that unless they're trying to mask the meaning of their message?" she asked, and Steve rolled his eyes, letting the two be in their own little world.
"Exactly." he agreed again.
"Why would anyone mask the true meaning of their message unless the message was somehow sensitive?"
"Exactly."
"So I guess that confirms your suspicion."
"Evil Russians." Dustin grinned at her.
"I can't believe I'm about to agree with this strange child," she chuckled, and Steve wanted to snap at her for calling him strange, but he knew she didn't mean it in a bad way. "But, yeah, totally evil Russians." Dustin let out a weird giggle, grinning at the both of them.
"So how do we crack it?" he asked.
"Well, I guess we translate the rest and hopefully a pattern emerges."
"A pattern. Right, like maybe "silver cat" is a meeting place?"
"Or a person."
"Or a weapon." he gasped, pointing a finger at her suspiciously.
"It's probably gonna take a super genius to crack it, but… Where's Steve?" She looked around and noticed Steve had left the conversation completely, and was now digging in his pocket for change at the children's horse ride.
"Hey, Steve. What are you doing?" she asked.
"Uh, it's a quarter. I need…" he huffed, frustrated. "Do you have a quarter?"
"Sure you're tall enough for that ride?" she laughed
"Quarter!" he yelled, catching the one she tossed to him.
"You need help getting up, little Stevie?" she grinned evilly and Dustin laughed.
"Shh! Would you two just shut up and listen?" They watched the horse move for a moment, and the grin on Dustin's face slowly fell as he realized what Steve was pointing out.
"Holy shit. The music. The music!" He fell to his knees and dug in his bag for the tape recorder.
"I don't understand." Robin said, looking at the two.
"It's the exact same song on the recording."
"Maybe they have horses like this in Russia." she suggested.
" Indiana Flyer ? I don't… I don't think so. This code, it... didn't come from Russia." he looked at them. "It came from here."
Next chapter, we'll focus on the Party minus Dustin, and what they're up to. There likely won't be much more to the Scoops Troop in the coming chapters, besides when everyone is reunited in the mall, same with Nancy and Jonathan with their quest to figure out the rabid rats.