Day Two
Nancy
Her mom and Mrs. Harrington had left again. Holly went with them this time, after a near meltdown at the prospect of being left behind. They were taking the highway to the next exit where a gas station payphone could ring indefinitely for their missing husbands. Nancy knew she should be more concerned about her dad, but instead she just felt guilty about her lack of concern – which, she reminded herself, was not the same thing. In her defense, their dad wasn't particularly close with any of them – Nancy, Mike, Holly, even their mom. He was, at best, aloof and deferred all matters of parenting to his wife, who doted over her children.
His continued absence had at least had the benefit of occupying most of her mom's attention, so Nancy was finally free of her worried stare. Not that Nancy needed to be under watch. She was fully recovered. Even more so, oddly enough. She felt better than ever. So when the water pump's rusted handle broke free of the connecting rod as Joyce was filling a large jug, Nancy was eager to help.
"Can't we fix it?" Steve asked, staring at the jagged edge of the broken rod.
"It's not that simple," Jonathan replied, peering into the shaft of the pump where small flakes of rust were falling. "The rod's connected to a plunger that creates a vacuum. You need the handle attached for the leverage or you'll never generate enough suction to draw the water up." He looked up and found Steve and Nancy staring at him. "It can't just be patched up. The parts have to be replaced," he finished quickly.
Steve pulled his shoulders back and gave Jonathan an appraising look. "Photography and water pumps, huh?" he mocked. "That's your thing?"
"Steve," Nancy reprimanded.
Jonathan had withdrawn back into his usual stony silence and melancholy expression.
"He's good with mechanics, okay?" Joyce said to Steve. She turned to her son and gave him a proud smile. "Always has been."
"Hey, I think that's great," Steve said, holding out his hands defensively. "Anyone know where we can buy parts?" He let the silence sink in before adding, "Or are we going to start drinking pond water?"
The four of them simultaneously looked at the pond, dotted with lily pads and ringed with neon green algae. "I'd like to avoid giardia, thanks," Nancy replied with a thin smile.
"There's a spring fed water station about a mile away," Jonathan suggested.
Joyce gave him a look that Nancy couldn't quite identify. Was it concern?
"You still remember where that is?" Joyce asked.
Jonathan nodded. "It's on the path," he said, flicking his head toward the exit. "In the other direction. It's pretty hard to miss."
The park's main parking lot had three paths running from it. According to the map posted by the paths' entrances, two led to campgrounds and the other was a three-mile hiking loop. The yellow trail – the one that led to their campsite – was choked with cars from the Hawkins refugees, but Jonathan still managed to find the footpath that broke off of the main trail near the parking lot. Carrying the five-gallon jug his mom had partially filled, he led Steve and Nancy along the dirt path as it wound its way deeper into the woods. In the undergrowth, sunlight filtering green through the treetops, and chipmunks darting across the forest floor, it was easy to forget Hawkins and the campsite full of nervous pacing. Nancy even began to forget about the danger they were fleeing, her near death and the cut that was little more than a tingling scar. But she couldn't reconcile the relaxation of the forest with the tension she felt between Steve and Jonathan. There was a reason they hadn't been friends in school. Their personalities clashed and it was unfair of Nancy to expect them to harmonize for her convenience.
"Your dad was at work when you left Hawkins?" Nancy asked.
Steve titled his head to the side thoughtfully. "I guess."
"You guess?" Nancy replied.
"He was supposed to be at the office, but…" Steve looked at Nancy out of the corner of his eye. "No one knows where he is."
Nancy was shocked. "Aren't you worried?"
"I would be," Steve continued, "if his secretary wasn't also missing." He raised his eyebrows at Nancy and said with a bitter smile, "They have a history."
"Oh," Nancy muttered, feeling her cheeks flush.
"Yeah, not exactly husband of the year. Honestly, I doubt my mom's even calling him anymore," Steve admitted. "I think she just likes hanging out with your mom. Kind of a Laverne and Shirley deal."
Jonathan had stopped a few feet in front of them and was kneeling at the side of the path where a large pipe was inexplicably jutting from the bank of a hill along the side of the trail, pouring a steady stream of perfectly clear water.
"This is the middle of nowhere," Nancy said, looking around at the complete lack of signs or notices. It was the most obscure location, aside from the footpath running alongside the spout.
Jonathan was focusing on filling his jug. "It's marked on the map," he said, not taking his eyes off of the stream. "And most campers that come here know about it."
"Yeah, but is it even safe?" Steve asked. Nancy could tell he was thinking about the tepid pond back at the campsite.
Jonathan pulled his jug from under the stream and began screwing on the cap. "It's safe," he replied simply. "It's spring-fed."
Steve threw up his hands exasperatedly. "I don't know what that means, Byers."
"Steve, drop it," Nancy warned. She slid one of her two small water jugs beneath the stream. The water splashed against her hands as she steadied the jug. "It's so cold!" she exclaimed, shaking the icy water from her fingers. She considered what Jonathan had said and asked him, "How did you know this was here?"
Jonathan pressed his lips together. "My dad brought me here when I was a kid." He looked up the path. It continued past the water station, curving around the hill and disappeared into the woods. "To hunt," Jonathan finished, still staring at the winding trail.
Nancy followed his gaze and saw nothing.
"What's up there?" Steve asked, watching Jonathan closely.
Jonathan took a deep breath and turned away from the path. He looked more closed off than before. "Nothing," he said.
