Transcript of Transmission

Date: November 7, 1984

Time: 7:09 PM

Duration: 4 minutes 19 seconds

Medium: Citizens-Band radio, channel 11

Subject(s): Mike Wheeler, (Broadcast Unanswered)

Hey El, it's Me. It's day 360.

I really miss you.

Today is November 7th. It's been one year since we first met. One year ago, tonight, we found each other in the rain. One year ago, I brought you home, and I promised to keep you safe. Do you remember the blanket fort? I still have it up. It's waiting for when you come home.

I made you a promise, that I would keep you safe. That I would protect you. That I wouldn't let them get you. I'm so sorry, El. I tried and I couldn't stop them. I'm sorry.

[pause, transmission remains active]

I'm so sorry.

I skipped school today and went out to the woods, where we first met. I'm sure there will be hell to pay once my parents find out I skipped again, but I don't really care. I'm sure I'm just going crazy, but being back there, in the woods, it was almost like I could feel you there with me again.

[long pause, transmission remains active]

The guys tell me I have to stop doing this to myself; calling you every night. Looking for you in the woods. They won't say it, but I'm pretty sure they think you died that night. I've told them I can still feel you with me sometimes, but I don't think they believe me. Well, mostly. I think Will believes. He wants to be able to thank you someday.

I know you never got to meet Will, not really, but I think you'd really like him. He's gentle and quiet too, like you.

[long pause, transmission remains active]

I know you're still out there, somewhere. It can feel it deep down inside. Wherever you are, I just hope you can hear me. I hope your safe. Know that I won't give up on you. I'll keep calling to give you a beacon. I can be your lighthouse to guide you safely home.

I…I don't even know if you know what a lighthouse is. It's a really bright light that guides ships on the ocean away from danger and guides them safely back into port. As long as it takes, I'll be your lighthouse, El.

If you're out there, please, give me a sign you can hear me. Anything at all.

[sobbing heard]

Please El, just a little sign. I want you to come home. I need you. I don't know if I can go on without you.

[pause]

I love you, El.

[soft crying heard for the remaining minute of transmission]

Analyst Steven Jackson pulled the transcript from his typewriter and looked over it carefully, comparing the typed copy to his hand-written notes. He had been assigned to record and transcribe the nightly radio calls - Wheeler Watch, as it had come to be known - for almost five months. Before him, several other analysts had been assigned to the post but no-one had been able to stomach the the job for very long. Transcribing enemy communications during wartime was one thing. Recording the nightly pleas of a heartbroken thirteen year old boy was something else entirely.

Wiping at his eyes, Steven sealed the report into an envelope and addressed it for inter-office routing.

Dr. Samuel Owens

Head of Special Projects

Hawkins National Laboratory

Leaving the building and heading to his car, Steven knew he needed a stiff drink. Most days he was able to shake off the things he had heard, but once in a while, Mike's pleas were particularly heartbreaking to listen to. Steven had only heard Mike profess his love for the girl on one other occasion, but it was always there in his voice. Mike desperately held out hope for the girl, though the general consensus held that she had died that fateful night.

He had come to Hawkins shortly after the event, as Brenner's people were quietly shuffled to other locations; those who even survived everything that had occurred. He had never known the girl, Eleven, but from the descriptions of those who remained who had known her, he could understand Mike's sorrow at her departure. That is what gave him the strength to listen, night after night, feeling that Mike's pain shouldn't just float off into the universe unheard.

Parking outside the tavern on the edge of town, Steven walked in and noted the handful of regulars occupying the bar. His eyes fell immediately to the man in a darkened booth in the corner and gave him a nod. Jim Hopper sat staring hard at the glass of whisky in front of him, clearly feeling the effects of the previous glasses and about ready to pass out at his usual table for the night. Steven felt sympathy for the police chief, doing his best to drown his mistakes. It was little secret around town that the department was in the process of seeking a new chief and preparing the oust Hopper from his role; most days he was too hungover to do more than sit at his desk.

Of course, no one in town knew just what demons were eating away at him night after night. In the lab, the exact details of that fateful night were classified, but most were aware of deal the chief and Mrs. Byers made to get her son back. The chief had given up the location where the girl was hiding; a confession that had led directly to her loss that night. He had blamed himself every day since and searched desperately for any sign she was alive.

When Hopper had first found out Steven was working for the lab, he had proceeded to beat the hell out of him behind the bar. A few weeks later, he started drilling him for information, desperate for any news that would indicate subject Eleven was okay. He had shared what information he could, on the nights the chief was still conscious enough to hear it. It had been several months now since the chief had done more than regard Steven with a glance across the bar. As the anniversary of her disappearance approached, Hopper had pretty much given up hope and was doing his best to drink himself to death in some dark penance for his self-perceived sins.

Settling at the bar, the bartender brought him over his usual order: a beer and a shot of whisky. Raising the small glass and contemplating the brown spirits within, he offered up a silent toast. "Eleven, wherever you are, know you are not forgotten. I hope you make it home safe. Mike, don't give up. I hope you find one another."