Eddie

Wayne and I took a few days to clear out the very last of what was left on the site of our trailer, and we didn't talk much while doing it. The company that ran the place was still up in the air about whether they'd rebuild or not, and most of our neighbors had gone to other places in the meantime.

Misty had made it clear that Wayne and I were welcome to stay, and that offer helped more than either of us wanted to admit. I was glad because I knew Wayne was getting older and a little slower now. Still in shape for his age, yeah, but having more space with other people was good for him.

And me. Not gonna lie—space and food and regular lovin' made ME a happy camper too. The house was big enough for privacy and cozy enough to well, feel like home. More of a home than the trailer, that's for sure, and since dear old Dad wasn't going to be getting out of the pen anytime soon, we didn't have to worry about him showing up.

I never wanted him anywhere near Lib or Just or Misty. Ever.

We dug around and rescued a few things including some photo albums and the dumb Felix the cat clock from the bathroom. I figured Just would love it for his room. We were loading the last of it in the Valiant when I saw that the pumpkins that the Tollers had been growing were all rotted, vines dead and dying. I pointed it out to Wayne, who was as puzzled as I was. It stayed on my mind when we got back to the house and I mentioned it to Misty, who scowled.

"Yeah, we've had die-offs before. They seem to run along the rows or furrows, like ley lines. Swear it's that damned lab. I wouldn't be a bit surprised to find out they've done something to the water or released some airborne chemical."

"How long have they been there?" I asked, helping her carry laundry out to the line. We did have a dryer, but on sunny days, it was easier to haul and hang. Made stuff smell better, anyway.

"Pffft, let me think. Dad mentioned the building going up around forty-six, or forty seven? It was in that prosperity bump after the second world war, and Hawkins was damned glad, thinking it would bring jobs, but no, they imported workers instead. Oh, they shopped in town and bought houses, but nobody around here from Hawkins got to work at the lab."

"How'd Leon get a job, then?"

"Well, they expanded and started recruiting for the low-level work by the Sixties," Misty replied, hanging up some of Just's overalls and jeans. "I can't remember if Rod worked there or just applied there at one point."

From where we were, I could see the lab beyond the fence and rise of pines between us. It was just a big box, imposing and heavy on the landscape. I never liked looking at it, and less so now that Misty was telling me about it.

"I don't like 'em, I've never liked 'em and so we live in this uneasy truce," Misty sighed. "I guess there's a big block like that in everyone's life."

I nodded. "Yeah."

-oo00oo—

Jeff and Dwayne both had plans for Halloween but thanked me for the invite; I was kind of relieved to be honest. They're good guys, but not the best influences. A year ago, I wouldn't have given a shit, but now I've got reasons to stay sober and clean.

Didn't mean I gave everything up, no, but moderation is easier. I can choose when and where to indulge without judgement, which helps. From the occasional whiff I know Misty fires up now and again, and I wouldn't be surprised if Wayne joined her, and we do have a few beers sometimes in the afternoon. Not exactly off-the-wall partiers here at the house, but that's okay. I've partied enough that I don't have anything to prove anyway.

I went to go look at Big Orange, over in the pumpkin patch. He was looking massive, a big lumpish pumpkin with a slightly flattened backside. By my estimation that sucker was about three hundred pounds now, and moving it was gonna be a lot of work. I figured Wayne and I could either try rolling it, or we might have to drag the cardboard it was sitting on to get it to the front turnoff.

As I stepped around it, I spotted something on the ground and bent closer. Dead squirrel, missing its head. That grossed me out, and I got a shovel to bury it. I didn't touch it, using the shovel to pick it up, and something greenish dripped from it, freaking me out a little. I was used to animal fluids now—piss and shit and milk and blood—but green wasn't a color I recognized. Nearly dropped the shovel, wobbling it, but I carried the squirrel away into the thickets in the pines and buried it there, feeling anxious.

What took the head? We had a few foxes and hawks and badgers around, but any of them would have eaten the whole squirrel, not just the brains. I thought about that and remembered Lib mentioning that Billy had talked about a dog or coyote over by the pool.

Related? Maybe. I went to go tell Wayne and see what he thought. He knew more about that kind of thing than I did.

Lib

Now that we knew the headcount for the party, it was time to start the food. I'd been baking pies for a while now, ever since seventh grade Home Ec, and I knew I could prep up several and load them in the freezer until the day of. So Just and I spent the better part of the morning peeling and coring apples together.

It was only fair since we also needed apple slices for Rosh Hashanah in two days' time. The nearest synagogue was a three-hour drive to Bloomington, though, so we'd be celebrating here at home with Mom leading things. I hoped she'd bring out our shofar, since Eddie would totally dig that.

"Something's in the woods," Just told me as he used the old-fashioned parer machine, cranking it slowly. The long strand of peeling got longer.

"Yes, there are lots of things in the woods," I prompted him. "What particular thing are you talking about?"

"I don't know," Just admitted. "I can't see it too good. It's fast, and it smells really bad. Mannie and I found some dead rabbits and they didn't have heads."

I looked up. "Where?"

"Down by the creek," Just replied. "By the drainage pipe."

That was worrying. If we had a predator, then the chickens weren't safe, and although Mrs. Jones was too big for a feral dog or a coyote, she could still be injured. I nodded to Just.

"Okay, thank you for letting me know. We'll talk to Eddie and Wayne and see what they say. Are you okay?"

He looked over at me, and I saw him consider the question before answering. "Yeah. I know stuff dies, but sometimes it looks bad. It looks like it really hurt."

I came over and gave him a light hug, glad to feel him squeeze me back. Just is generous that way, and I think we both needed it.

"Until we take care of this, please take Mannie with you when you go down to the creek," I murmured. "Please?"

He nodded and we got back to work on the apples, piling the peeled ones until we had about twenty. I gave Just the push-down apple slicer and took a paring knife for myself.

"Are you and Eddie gonna get married?" my brother asked me in a serious tone.

"I don't know," I admitted to him. "Maybe someday down the line. We're both kind of young for that."

Eddie and I had talked about the future, but in open-ended generalities for the most part, mostly because we were still figuring ourselves out. I loved him, he loved me, but we still had a lot we needed to live through first.

But it was looking good.

"Okay," Just sighed. "Because I want to keep him and Wayne with us. Whenever they go back to the trailer, I worry that they're moving out."

"Nope, boychick, no chance of that," I promised. "They don't have a building left there, and I think they like being with us too."

"Yeah," Just admitted. "We're a commune now."

"What? No, we're not a commune," I murmured, wondering where he got the idea and suspecting Mom. "We're more like a family."

"But we picked each other, not just us born together," Just argued. "Mom says when people are intentional about living together, it's a commune."

"Mom also says the stars are the moon's tears, and that squirrels predict the winter," I reminded him. "And we both know those aren't exactly true."

Just got a stubborn look on his face so I opted to change the subject. "What kind of a face are you and Wayne going to carve on Big Orange? Scary or funny?"

"Scary," Just told me. "Really Scary. It's gonna keep the woods monster away."

I hoped he was right.