Important note at the bottom

"Let's go kid."

Ok, even though I didn't like people calling me kid, I was pretty sure that he called everyone at least ten years younger than him kid. I wasn't going to take offense. My Nan called me "deary", I hated it, but my mom always smiled when she did. I didn't mind so much because what usually followed was "This is for you deary."

It would be a present. When it was a present from her I was called "deary." Like most kids who've had to go through this, the present was usually clothes. But in Nan's case, it was usually cool clothes. The last time, it was a pair of tactical gloves, with a thinsulate liner. Very cool, but practical. And WAY too big. Once we were back home my mom would say "This winter, you can use the gloves Nan gave you to keep your hands warm when shoveling the driveway." I was swimming in them, but I wore them anyway.

At first I thought it was an ancient Chinese curse, but later found out it had been attributed to Clare Booth Luce. "No good deed goes unpunished. By corollary: great gift, now use it for chores. That was ok, because I think I was the only person in Hawkins to have tactical gloves. With a thinsulate liner. I smile everytime I think of it. I still have them and still use them in the winter.

When it was a present from Gramps, whole different story. Nan would always give it to me in his presence, but she would say something sarcastic like, "My illegitimate husband bought this for you. Don't shoot your eye out."

Ralphie would just roll his eyes if he ever heard that again. I never did get -and didn't want- a Red Ryder Range 200. So no chance of shooting my eye out. Either one.

What I did get was what he called a "Boy Scout Knife."

Boy Scout.

I had to look it up. Now I wanted to be a Boy Scout. Apparently I didn't keep track and I missed the indoctrination meeting. Ok, that's a harsh word. Bottom line is I never became a boy scout.

But I had the cool knife. That was VERY cool. It had a fork, spoon, and of course the obligatory knife. Fake wood grained handle, which, now that I think about it, was probably bone of some sort.

I still have that knife today. I never actually used the spoon or the fork, but I learned how to sharpen the knife. It was on my keychain before I even needed keys.

That was the kind of gift I got, given to me with great disdain, from Gramps. He passed away when I was much younger, so it was sort-of cool clothes from Nan, from then on.

I love you Gramps. Some day your knife will save my life.

I love you too Nan. I wore the gloves you gave me every winter when I was shoveling. They didn't really fit me until I was sixteen. They didn't wear out either. I'm guessing they must have been pretty expensive.

XXXXX

"Uh, Chief?" I gestured my thumb over my left shoulder, indicating behind me.

"Yeah, kid?"

"All the houses for normal people are uh, way back there."

"I know. Keeps my daughter safe."

"Oh." Ok, I knew he was parent, but last I heard his daughter died. Did he have another kid?

He was somber when he said, "Not Sara."

"Oh."

He didn't say anything more.

XXXXX

"I'm freezing my ass off. Why aren't you cold kid? You don't even have your hood up."

Heavy sigh. Time for the spiel.

"Long johns. Over top of that, my regular cords. Waterproof wind pants over that. Long wool socks that go to my knees. Boots with an insert, tied up to keep the snow from getting in. Parka. Inner lining, double zipper, frogman's hood. I kept my sarcasm low on that one. Tactical gloves with thinsulate liners. I have to keep my hood off so I don't explode.

He laughed. "So the Hawkins snowpocalype isn't going to affect you. It's ok kid. I know that much from your mom. He was silent again after that.

He said something I was totally NOT expecting.

"I don't want you to be scared of Eleven"

My first thought one that I voiced, "Not really scared of numbers, Chief. I mean, it's pretty much built in to everyone to pause at the number 13, but other than Halloween…" I left my voice to trail off.

"Eleven is the name of my daughter. Long story."

My second thought , also voiced. "We aren't going to see your daughter. Wait, oh, uh, your daughter is named Eleven?"

"Like I said kid, long story. I won't tell you. She can. You make her cry? I pound the living shit out of you. We clear?

"Crystal." I said.

I was silent. This bizarre exchange didn't make a lot o f sense to me.

And then it hit me. She was the girl who hugged me at both funerals. Not only was there a lot about her I didn't know, but she was also the Chief's daughter. That was why he was the next in line for condolences.

Eleven was his daughter.

XXXXX

The casual knock most people do on doors is the "Cloudburst" knock based on the jazz song.. The Chief didn't do that. It sounded like he actually used More Code. I was good with Morse Code, but I wasn't paying enough attention to decipher it.

A lot of locks seemed to click at the same time. And then we were inside the cabin.

Out in the middle of friggin' nowhere.

Hopper pointed to a room. "She's in there. Close the door for privacy. You make her cry-"

"Yeah yeah, I get it chief. Grease stain on the floor."

He actually smiled at me. "Good. You get it."

XXXXX

I knocked on the door. No answer.

"Go on in, kid."

I knocked at the same time I opened the door. She was in bed, wearing a long t-shirt that had ridden up... a little too far, her face down thoroughly involved in a huge book. I had to do a double take, when I saw that it was a dictionary. She's reading a dictionary?

I said Hi, but she ignored me.

I cleared my throat and spoke a little louder. Nothing. I was a little annoyed, and maybe that was heating me up. I still had my jacket on, so I took it off, and draped it over a chair by the door.

I turned around at the scrambling sound, and looked at her. She was smiling at me when she said, "This is embarrassing, how much of my ass did you see?" She had curly hair, and beautiful eyes. And nice ass. Now I was nervous and decided to look at my feet.

"You are here for a hug." She said matter of factly in that weird voice.

"Yeah, I think I am." I said.

I heard her walk over to me, and felt a finger under my chin, lifting it up so that I was looking right into those eyes. "Look at me when you talk to me."

I couldn't, I looked away and said, "I'll try."

This time I felt her hand rest gently on my cheek, turning my head back towards her.

{"I'm deaf."} She signed and spoke at the same time.

I looked at the floor. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Her finger, once again, lifted my chin so that I was looking at her again.

{"I can learn to read your lips, but you need to look at me when you talk to me, and enunciate."} She said "enunciate" like she was exasperated with a child who wasn't grasping a very simple concept.

"How do you say, 'I'm Sorry' in sign language?" I asked.

She made a fist.

{"This is an 'S'. "} She rubbed her chest on her breastbone.

{"I'm sorry"} I signed.

Her smile almost knocked me over. {"It's ok, Mike. If you want to learn ASL, I will teach you."}

I nodded. She hugged me. It was the best hug I'd ever had... and I cried on her shoulder. It felt like forever but she seemed to instinctively know just how long to hold the before she stepped back.

Just then the wind seemed to shake the entire cabin, "{"Wind is stronger now, I could feel the pressure changing in my ears."}

There was a knock on the door. I turned around and opened it. The chief tossed me a sleeping bag.

{"You are stuck here for the night. You take the floor."} He signed, he was talking to me, but his head and his hands were directed towards his daughter. Eleven.

"Um, are you ok with that sir?"

He turned back towards the door, he was talking, and not signing so Eleven wouldn't know what he said. "I pick my battles, this isn't going to be one of them."

"Fair enough." I said. I wasn't entirely sure that he was talking about Eleven and I getting up to something. We didn't even know each other. I shrugged in my head, and looked at Eleven.

"What is the sign for eleven?" I asked.

{"The official ASL sign is flicking the index finger twice and pointing up. But the deaf community tends to make up their name with their own sign. I point up using both hands close together. I will respond to both, but I prefer mine."} She smiled again.

It was easy to see that the gesture made her fingers look like '11'.

{"11."}

She nodded. {"I can teach you the alphabet tonight, so even if you don't know or can't remember the sign, as long as you can half ass spell."}

I laughed, immediately her hand was on my chest. {"I want to feel you laugh."}

XXXXX

We sat cross legged on the bed, our knees almost touching.

{"This is an 'A'."}

Notes: I needed a convention for signing, this is what I came up with:

"Someone is speaking"

{Someone is signing}

{"Someone is speaking AND signing."}