The Freak and the Cheerleader
Chapter Two: The Boathouse
Beth felt the pain in her back before she opened her eyes. Something seemed to be weighing her down, and she was bent forward. She woke, shifting slowly at first, until she realized she'd been sleeping bent over the side of the boat, her face pressed against Eddie's chest. Eddie had fallen asleep with his head resting on top of hers. And he was drooling.
"Ew, Eddie!" She shoved him off, and immediately regretted the sudden movement. Everything hurt. Eddie evidently felt as stiff as she did, cursing as he writhed on the floor, trying to stretch his back.
"Why," he whined through gritted teeth.
"Your slobber is on my face, that's why," Beth said, arching her back and hearing a thousand little pops as her spine realigned.
"Yeah, well, your makeup is on my shirt, so we're even."
Beth inhaled sharply. The events of the night before came crashing back to her. "Gee, sorry my grief stained your clothes."
"I didn't…" Eddie sighed. "I'm sorry. Forget I said that."
Beth looked around the shack in the light. Oars and other boating equipment lined the walls, as did toolboxes and a table. The boat itself was actually bobbing in a slip, the back of the shack having a wide opening for easy access to the lake beyond. "Where are we again?"
"This guy I know, Rick, lives in the house up there," Eddie explained.
"Does he…know? That we're here? And why?"
"Not exactly," Eddie said. "He's actually in prison right now. You might have heard of him? Reefer Rick?" Beth frowned. She wasn't sure what she expected, but hiding in a drug dealer's boathouse wasn't it. "Sometimes when my uncle's up my ass, or the cops, I come here. I did actually say all this last night, but you were pretty out of it. Understandably."
"So…what now?"
"I don't know." Eddie sat up, sitting cross-legged and fiddling with his rings. "My uncle's definitely home from his shift at the plant by now. Which means he's found Chrissy by now…"
"Maybe…" Beth swallowed. "Maybe…whatever killed her…took her body too?" She turned to look at Eddie. "You…did see what I saw last night, right?"
"The levitating?"
"Yes."
"The…her…her b—"
"Yeah," Beth confirmed quietly. She'd rather not think about it either. "So that…that all really happened." Eddie nodded. "How are we going to tell people?"
Eddie scoffed. "We can't. They'll never believe us."
"But there's two of us, it's not like—"
"Beth, two of us might have seen that shit, but only one of us counts," Eddie said. "And it's not me. So basically, you're on your own. Enjoy your stay at Pennhurst Asylum."
"Okay, so what's your plan?" Beth asked irritatedly. "Just sit in this boathouse the rest of your life?"
"I'll only be sitting in this boathouse until the cops find me," Eddie pointed out. "If Chrissy's body wasn't taken by the ghost—"
"You think it was a ghost?"
"I don't know," Eddie yelled, throwing his hands in the air. "I don't know what the hell makes cheerleaders float in the air and then die."
"Don't yell at me," Beth said. "I'm just as in the dark as you." An uneasy silence fell over them. "I always thought I'd be good in an emergency," Beth pondered. "You know. Decisive. On top of shit."
"You mean bossy."
"You're only saying bossy because I'm a girl," Beth accused with a glare.
"That's bullshit. I'm saying 'bossy' because you have this insane assumption that you have the right to tell people what to do," Eddie said. "Like, all the time. Like when you barged into my van. And my home. And my room."
"Would you rather have been alone last night?"
Eddie sighed deeply. He raked a hand through his messy hair, and Beth reflexively wondered when the last time he washed it was. "In hindsight…no. Because as it turns out, I'm no good at emergencies either. All those years spent playing D&D clearly didn't make me brave enough to deal with supernatural shit in the real world." Eddie chewed his lip. "Nope. If I'm not sitting behind the Dungeon Master's screen, I'm chickenshit."
"I don't understand most of what you just said," Beth said, furrowing her brow. "D&D? Dungeon master?"
"D&D. Dungeons and Dragons?"
"The Satanist game?"
Eddie roared with indignation. "It is not a Satanist game," he lamented, throwing himself backwards to lay on the floor, hands over his face.
"All right, fine! God!" Beth yelled back. "Do you have to be so dramatic about it?"
"Ask me that if they declare cheerleading a tool of the devil," Eddie mumbled. Beth rolled her eyes, and looked around the boathouse again. Her eyes fell on a radio.
"We should see if there's any news. About Chrissy," she said, climbing out of the boat. She flipped the radio on and spun the dial until she started hearing a news report. Eddie got up and walked over as the news anchor relayed the tragedy of the murder.
"…no new information on the body found in Forest Hills trailer park. Chief Powell and the Hawkins Police Department are following several leads. Anyone who can provide information should call…"
"Several leads," Beth repeated. "So that might be positive. If they just suspected you, it would be one lead. And they didn't even release Chrissy's name."
"They just say that when they don't have enough proof," Eddie countered. "I am not holding my breath." He crossed his arms and wandered away a bit. Then he asked, "Why didn't you want me to take you home?"
Beth was surprised. "What do you mean?"
"I know you were basically catatonic last night, but…it still feels weird that you came here instead of going home."
"I…didn't know what to do. It's not like going home would have made me feel any better about what happened," Beth said slowly.
"But aren't your parents—"
"My parents are in Europe right now," Beth said. "They left me with a wad of cash and went on a fabulous vacation. They have no idea what's even going on. It's possibly the only good thing about the situation right now," she added. She cocked her head to the side. "What about…your uncle? Wouldn't he be worried?"
"He most likely is the one who found Chrissy's body in his trailer, so yeah, he's probably—"
"I meant about you."
Eddie shrugged. "Honestly…I can't imagine what he's thinking right now. We butt heads pretty often but…I think he knows I'm not a killer?" The look in Eddie's eyes nearly broke Beth's heart.
"What about your parents?"
"My old man's in prison—grand theft auto. My mom…" Eddie sighed. "Mom died when I was a little kid. Overdose."
"Your mom overdosed and you sell drugs?"
"Look, people are gonna take drugs no matter what," Eddie said, rounding on Beth in anger. "Maybe if my mom's dealer had been more careful, she wouldn't have OD'd. I'm not sloppy or reckless like he was. I don't—"
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Beth said. "I didn't mean to imply..."
"Like, take Chrissy for example. I would have made sure she started out small. I would have watched her the whole time—"
"Eddie, I said I'm sorry. You're not on trial," Beth protested, hands up in surrender. "I shouldn't have pried. I'm sorry."
"I don't usually even sell Special K," Eddie continued, pacing the floor. "But when Chrissy said she wanted something stronger, I didn't want her to go to some other dealer who didn't care. I was trying to protect her."
For a moment Beth thought Eddie might actually start crying. For all her grief over losing her best friend, it never occurred to her that he felt the loss too. "Well, at least we have that in common," she offered quietly. "And for the record, I'm glad I wasn't alone last night either. Even if it was you."
Eddie took a deep breath and looked at her. "We're certainly an unlikely pair of outlaws," Eddie conceded, a wry smile on his face. "But if I'm honest, I feel better with a raging bitch like you on my side rather than against me."
"I'll try to find the compliment in there."
"You will eventually. You've got plenty of time."
The rest of the day passed without much conversation, the radio filling the silence. When the news reports repeated a third time with no new updates and Beth grew tired of the lamentations that Hawkins was going to hell, she spun the dial to find music. She wondered vaguely what everyone else was doing. If the cops had questioned anyone on the squad. Or Jason. Beth sighed. Jason had a moralistic streak a mile wide. If the cops connected Chrissy being at the trailer with buying drugs…
"What is it?" Beth looked up. Eddie was watching her from where he sat across the room. "You look like something's on your mind. Like…something specific."
Beth felt a little unsettled by the idea that Eddie was paying that much attention to her, but she supposed there was nothing else to do in this shack. "I'm just thinking about Jason. Jason Carver? Chrissy's boyfriend."
"Yeah, I know who he is," Eddie said. "He's a prick."
"Hey, that's two whole things we have in common!"
Eddie snorted. "What do you have against Jason? Aren't you guys part of the same crowd?"
"He totally shat all over my idea to get the cheerleading squad to the National Cheer Championships."
Eddie raised his eyebrows. "There are…National Cheer Championships?"
"Yes, Eddie, there are," Beth said sharply. "They've even been airing them on cable for three years. But Jason said Chrissy and I should just focus on being the team's prettiest fans." She frowned. "Not that I could whip the squad into shape. They've all bought into the idea that they just exist to jump up and down on the sidelines. But the things some of these squads do—it's incredible! And I love it! The precision, the strength required, the stunts—it's like Olympic gymnastics with pom-poms. Chrissy and I taped the first championship they aired on TV and watched it over and over and…" Beth noticed Eddie's amused expression. "You think it's stupid, obviously."
"No," said Eddie, "I've just never seen a cheerleader nerd out on cheerleading before."
Beth couldn't believe it—there was a genuine smile on Eddie Munson's face. It caught her so off guard she looked away. "I cannot believe you just called me a nerd."
"If the pom-poms fit." He laughed at his own joke.
"Oh, God." Beth rolled her eyes. "You know, maybe if you didn't spend all your time looking down on everyone else, you'd realize people actually care about the those dumb high school things they do."
"Well that's the pot calling the kettle black." Eddie's smile faded. Now he looked at Beth accusatorily. "And for the record, I've never looked down on anyone who didn't look down on me first."
Are you sure about that? Beth swallowed the retort. If they were going to get through this bizarre turn of events, she'd have to keep that particular grudge buried.
"I feel like my night vision's better than I expected." This was the first thing Eddie had said since the awkwardness.
"Probably because we've basically been outside the whole time," Beth said. "The dark came gradually and our eyes adjusted." The silence resumed. Beth uncrossed her legs and stretched them out in front of her, still sitting in the same spot she'd sat in for hours. She considered again that she had no real plan—Eddie, she assumed, was simply waiting for the cops to find him. What would she do when the cops came? Would they assume she was complicit in the murder? But there couldn't be evidence that Eddie snapped Chrissy's bones with his bare hands, much less Beth. Was anybody even looking for Beth? Eddie's question from before came back to haunt her: Why didn't you go home?
"Was that a car?"
Beth shook herself out of her thoughts and looked at Eddie as she held her breath and listened. Sure enough, the sound of car doors opening and slamming shut echoed in the dark forest surrounding the boathouse. Beth immediately switched the radio off and crept to the window, but she couldn't quite see where the car was. Suddenly, they heard Eddie's name be called.
"Shit, shit, shit." Eddie scrambled to his feet, looking around. He suddenly looked terrified. "Shit shit shit.."
"Shhh…" Beth put a finger to her lips as she looked around. She tread softly towards the table, grabbed a glass bottle sitting on top, said a tiny prayer, and slammed it against the edge of the table.
"Jesus Christ what are you doing," Eddie yelped as the bottom of the bottle shattered. Beth froze to listen for outside reactions to the noise, but the voice they'd heard was now absurdly calling out for Reefer Rick.
"It doesn't sound like cops, so here. You could use a weapon," Beth explained, handing the neck end of the bottle to Eddie. He stared incredulously at her. "Or just be a sitting duck, your choice!"
"Guys? I think I see something." A different voice now cut through the night, and they were suddenly aware of a flashlight beam bobbing around. Eddie and Beth quickly got into the rowboat, pulling the tarp over themselves. They curled up at the stern end, Beth warily keeping an eye out for the broken bottle Eddie clutched. She was already regretting that impulse.
"Hello?" They heard the door creak open, and could see the vague brightness of the flashlights. Four pairs of feet crept in. "Is anyone home?"
"What a dump." Beth knitted her eyebrows together. That sounded an awful like...
Something began violently jabbing at the tarp near the bow end of the boat. "Steve, what are you doing?" another voice hissed, and Beth's eyes widened. What the hell is Steve Harrington doing here?
"He might be in here." Jab.
"So take the tarp off!" Jab.
"You're so brave, you take the tarp off!" Jab. He was gradually getting closer to where they lay curled up. Beth's heart raced with fear.
"Someone was here," a girl's voice said. Another said, "Maybe we spooked him and he ran off."
"Don't worry. Steve's gonna get him with his oar," the non-Steve voice said sarcastically. Steve was in the middle of telling his companion off when Eddie suddenly leapt up, jumped out of the boat, and slammed Steve Harrington against the wall, the broken bottle dangerously close to his throat. Beth managed to keep herself covered with the tarp, but not completely. She watched as the group screamed and the shorter guy pushed the girls back from getting to Steve, seemingly trying to talk Eddie down.
"It's Dustin!" he pleaded. "This is Steve! He's not going to hurt you, right?" Steve croaked in the affirmative, arching his neck away from the jagged edges of the bottle. "Steve, why don't you drop the oar?"
Steve let the oar fall, and in one swift motion Beth jumped out of the boat herself and grabbed the oar, swinging it up in front of her against Dustin and the two girls. There was more screaming. "Beth Forrester?!" Steve croaked out, his eyes bugged out more in surprise over her presence than the fact that his throat could be slit at any minute. Beth wasn't really sure if this had been the best move, but before it was four to one against Eddie. She liked the odds better now that she had an oar to swing.
"Stop! Stop! We're not trying to hurt you!" Dustin kept yelling, looking around Beth and trying to get Eddie's eye. "These are my friends! Eddie, you know Robin from band! And this is Max, the one who never wants to play D&D!" Beth squinted. Robin was in her year, and this Max actually looked familiar too. She recognized the red hair and the headphones she wore around her neck.
"What are you doing here?" Eddie asked, his voice wavering.
"We were looking for you," Dustin said.
"We want to help," Robin added.
"Eddie, we're on your side," Dustin continued. "I swear on my mother. Right, guys?" The rest agreed. Beth didn't want to look away from the three she was guarding. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. Finally, she heard Steve sigh in relief behind her, a sure sign that Eddie had put down the bottle. She slowly lowered her oar as Dustin made his way to Eddie, who had slumped against the wall in a crouching position. His hands were still clutching the bottle's neck.
"What the hell are you doing here, Beth?" She turned to consider Steve Harrington, wondering much the same about his own involvement in this motley crew. To his credit, he seemed to recover quickly from his brush with death.
"You're friends with Chrissy, right?" Max asked, and Beth finally placed her: the freshman in the girls' room yesterday afternoon. Was it really only yesterday? "Were you there when it happened?" Beth nodded.
"You won't believe me." Eddie's voice came out in almost a sob, getting the attention of everyone in the shack. Max walked over to where Dustin and Robin sat around him, looking at Eddie with serious eyes.
"Try us."
Beth sat next to Eddie as he went over the events of last night, the four others listening intently. "We went to my trailer because Chrissy wanted to buy drugs…Beth said she'd been acting weird all week. Then Chrissy just…she was standing really still with her eyes rolled in the back of her head. We couldn't get her to snap out of it. Then…her body lifted into the air…and she just hung there...in the air… and…" Eddie struggled to form the words.
"Her arms twisted and snapped," Beth finished. "And then her legs." She swallowed. "And her jaw…" Her stomach lurched, and she turned to dry heave in the direction of the boat slip.
"Her eyes, man…It was like there was something inside her head, pulling…" Beth realized she'd shut her eyes against that part, and shuddered at the thought of what Eddie had seen. "I didn't know what to do so…I ran away…" Eddie had tears in his eyes. Beth fought the strange impulse to wrap her arms around him, and instead hugged herself. "You think we're crazy, don't you?"
"No," Dustin said. "We don't think you're crazy—"
"Look, don't bullshit me man, I know how this sounds," Eddie cried. Beth flinched at how desperate he sounded. What was he thinking, agreeing to tell the truth? Wasn't it Eddie who said the truth was a one-way ticket to Pennhurst?
"Look…what we're about to tell you might be…a little difficult to take," Dustin said.
"It can't be more difficult than what we've seen," Beth whispered, hugging her knees to her chest.
"You know how people say Hawkins is cursed? They're not…way off. There's another world. A world…hidden beneath Hawkins. And sometimes, it bleeds into ours…" Beth listened incredulously as Dustin described monsters and evil forces, lurking just beyond the world they knew. They asked about dust particles, anything weird they could see.
"It was just the lights flickering," Beth said, and the four nodded. She got the uncanny sense of talking to a troupe of ghostbusters, just another day at their job.
"Chrissy was just…in a trance," Eddie said.
"Or under a spell?" Dustin asked.
"A curse…" Eddie almost seemed to latch onto the idea like it was familiar.
"Vecna's curse," Dustin concluded.
"Who's Vecna?" Steve asked, sounding much calmer than Beth would have sounded had she been able to verbalize the question.
"An undead creature of great power," Dustin explained.
"A spellcaster," Eddie clarified.
"Okay wait, why are you both saying these things like it all suddenly makes sense?" Beth asked. "I don't understand. Did a wizard kill Chrissy?!"
"It's just how Dustin and his friends rationalize this stuff," Steve said, looking exasperated. "All you really have to know is, we're calling it Vecna now. It's D&D shit. You'll get used to it."
"I'll get used to it?!"
"I know it's completely bonkers," Robin said. "But as weird as this all sounds, we're your best bet. We've been through this kind of thing before."
"Because you're secretly the Scooby Doo gang of Hawkins?"
"Basically, yes," Max said. "I mean, what other options do you have right now?" Beth sighed. Unfortunately, she had a point.
Eventually the crew left, promising to check in the next day after gathering whatever news they could find. Beth once again surprised herself by saying she wanted to stay where she was, but Dustin evidently agreed that Eddie shouldn't be left alone, and since she'd already been there for a day, it made sense. After they were alone, Beth bribed Eddie with an offer of the boat to sleep in if he explained the whole Vecna concept more. His long-winded explanation of the Dungeons and Dragons character only served to lull Beth into an uneasy sleep on the floor of the boathouse.