Chapter 54: An Omen
"Hey, Nancy Drew, where's my coffee?" a voice calls from down the hall.
Nancy scrambles from her chair near the kitchen where she'd been doing some assigned reading for class and hurries to the coffee pot. She grabs a mug from the cupboard and quickly pours a cup.
"Shit!" she hisses as she overpours, spilling it all over the counter and on the floor. She scrambles to try and clean it up.
"I hope you're not going deaf over there," the voice warns. "Make it snappy."
"No, just a second…" she calls out. "Just adding the amount of sugar."
The fact that she'd been forced to memorize how all these reporters liked their coffee was humiliating and degrading. She reaches over and fumbles for the Sweet N' Low packets as well as a spoon. She opens two and pours them in, stirring as she heads down to Bruce Lowe's office.
You're just paying your dues, she kept telling herself. You'll get better stories soon.
But she knew this was a lie. Her above-minimum wage pay was not worth what she'd been put through. Even though she had broken the Russians under the Mall story this past summer, and interviewed her friends and personnel involved, she hadn't been given anything worthy since. It was probably revenge because they had their egos wounded by her stellar journalism and broke one of the biggest stories of the year. As of recently, she was allowed to cover a traffic accident, and the weather, and that was it. She wanted to quit so badly, but this kind of experience looked great on a college application, and it helped her with running the school newspaper. At least at school, she was respected more by teenagers, and that said a lot about the men she and Johnathan were forced to work with.
"Here you are," she says, entering his office and placing it in his expectant outstretched hand.
"You took your precious time," Bruce grunts. His feet are on the desk, and he has a magazine in his lap, not working at all.
"I'm sorry," she mutters through gritted teeth. "Is there anything else?"
"Yeah, pass me those cigarettes and lighter over there," he demands, not looking up from whatever he was reading.
Nancy hurries over to the filing cabinet and grabs his cigarettes and lighter. She places them on the desk.
"Will that be all?"
"Yep, go crack your next case, Nancy Drew," he chuckles at his own joke. "And shut the door on your way out."
Finally free of him, Nancy does as he asks and heads back towards her homework.
However, someone walks through the door and nearly collides with her.
She stops suddenly and lets out a yelp.
"I'm so sorry," Nancy says.
"No, I'm sorry," Mr. Devin Michaels says. "I wasn't watching where I was going. Nancy, while you're here, could you please do me a favour?"
"Sure," she says, trying to hide the defeat and annoyance in her voice.
"Could you run these files down to Tom and bring back what he has for me? I'd do it myself, but I have to make some copies of this article. It won't take very long."
"Sure," she repeats, glad it wasn't another food run.
"Thank you," he says. "I'll be right back."
Nancy takes the paperwork from Mr. Michaels and heads down to her boss's office. Since it is half ajar, she quickly knocks.
Tom Holloway stands next to his desk, phone in hand. He signals to her that he's on the phone and Nancy points to the work she had brought. He snaps and points to his desk telling her where he wanted it.
"Yes, I'm sure it would be an interesting piece," he continues talking as his only female employee places the work where he needs it. "But we're looking more towards the trial of Mayor Kline and his corruption."
Nancy bites her lip, wishing she was covering this because it was her story… well her and her friends' story. After all, Dustin has found the Russian code, Robin has deciphered it, Steve realized that they were in America, Erica infiltrated where their base was, Chief Hopper and Joyce found out what they were doing beneath the mall, Mike and his friends helped stop the Russians and El kicked all of their asses as well. Of course, she couldn't report on the last part, but what an amazing story it would be. She'd once had an inkling to run the truth about Hawkin's lab, but then she thought about all the trauma that El had gone through and wouldn't put her in the spotlight like that.
Tom reaches over and points to the documents he needs her to take, and she nods before leaving.
She goes back to Mr. Michael's cubicle, which is cramped and piled high with paperwork.
"Thank you so much, Nancy," he says coming back with the photocopies. "I really appreciate it."
"You're welcome," she says.
He was one of the newer employees in the office and he was much nicer than all the other chauvinist pigs, Robin's words, not hers. One of the "Derry refugees" everyone else in the office called them. They'd run a story about the "Derry migration" and Johnathan had been tasked with photographing some of the families. He seems like a nice person, even if he only did the Help Wanted Ads.
What felt nice is that he didn't talk down to her because of her gender or age and he was much more polite when he asked for favours. From what she'd gathered, he had a wife, two sons and a daughter.
Suddenly, a clap of thunder is heard and both individuals glance outside.
"Wonder if it will start pouring soon?" he ponders. "I hope Damian gets here soon."
"Who's Damian?" Nancy asks.
She doesn't know why she's trying to talk to Mr. Michaels, but he's the only one she can seem to tolerate and want to even have a conversation with.
"Damian is my son. Our middle child. We began fostering him when he was 10."
"He's your foster son?" she asks. She realizes that she shouldn't be prying into someone's personal life. "Sorry I…"
"No, that's okay. My wife and I are very proud that we've fostered children for almost 20 years now. A lot of kids out there need stability and safety and we're more than happy to provide it."
"That's really nice of you," Nancy compliments them.
"We always felt it was our duty to," Devin says, sitting down behind his wonky desk, his chair squeaking in protest. Figures they'd give the new guy the crowded cubicle.
He grabs two photos from his desk. He stands up and brings the photos over to Nancy.
"This is Anthony our eldest. He's working as a ranger in Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado."
"Wow really?" she says.
"Yes, and these are my younger two… How old are you, Nancy?"
"17," she answers.
"Damian's just a few years older than you," he points to his son, clad in a leather jacket. "He graduated two years ago. He enjoys his motorcycles. And this is Beverly, our youngest foster daughter."
"Wow, red hair," Nancy says.
"Yes. She's just a bit younger than you. You're probably in the same high school."
"Probably," she says. It felt nice to talk to someone in the newspaper office without any mocking or sexism.
"And where do you want to go to college Nancy?" he asks, putting the photos away.
"Emerson College."
"What do you want to study? Journalism?" he asks.
"Maybe, I guess I'll…"
"Wheeler! Michaels!"
Both employees turn to see Tom Holloway standing in the doorway, scowling as usual. "What are you doing?"
"I…I…" Nancy begins to say.
"Nancy is just helping me with some filing," Devin cuts in quickly. "I needed extra hands."
"R-Right," she says. She quickly goes over and Mr. Michaels hands her some file folders.
"When did I say you could ask Miss Wheeler for help?" Tom demands.
"I wasn't busy so…" Nancy begins.
"Not talking to you Wheeler," her boss cuts her off. He refocuses on Mr. Michaels. "When did I say that?"
"You didn't but I just needed…"
"But nothing. You don't get to decide where my employees are needed and as the newest member of the staff, you need to learn that very quickly."
"Yes Mr. Holloway," Mr. Michaels says politely. "It won't happen again."
Nancy is shocked but also not shocked at the same time. His tone was the same for him as it was for her and Johnathan. Rude and demanding, talking down to them. Does he treat anyone nicely?
"It better not. Nancy when you're done here, I need you to see if there's enough coffee for the meeting."
"Yes Mr. Holloway," she says dutifully.
"Good," he says before leaving the room.
Nancy exhales in exhaustion and relief. She turns to Mr. Michaels. "Thank you."
"Don't worry about it. I know that he's a hard ass. I've dealt with people like him before. He's just looking for any reason to yell at people. It's unfortunate that in office politics, those at the bottom of the totem pole get the brunt of it. But, if we stick together, we can get through it."
He hands her a stapler and she begins to staple the pages he gives her.
"I just wish that weren't the case," she murmurs, grinding her teeth. "I wish Mr. Holloway would let me cover Mayor Kline's trail because I'm the one who broke the story but…"
A sharp pain goes through her finger, and she drops the stapler. In her anger, she'd accidentally stapled herself.
"Ow, damn it!" she hisses. She puts her finger in her mouth.
"Are you all right?" Mr. Michaels asks. He hands her a tissue.
"I will be," she mutters.
Just then a young man enters the room. He's very tall with dark messy hair that hung past his ears and brown eyes. He clearly hadn't shaved this morning and had an earring in his ear. He wears a leather jacket and jeans, trying to make himself look cool. But the high schooler could tell that it was all a façade. He was dressed the way some thought looked cool but wasn't.
"Hey Dad," Damian says. "I got your cigarettes."
"Thank you, Damian. Nancy, this is my son Damian. Damian, this is Nancy Wheeler."
"Hey how's it going?" he asks casually.
"Fine," she says, nodding.
"Okay, well I've left Bev at the drugstore, so if that's all…"
"Hold it a minute young man," Mr. Michaels says. He removes his suit jacket and hands it to his son. "While I can't do anything about the jeans, you can still look presentable from the waist up."
"What are you talking about?" Damian asks, completely confused.
"I've arranged for you to have an interview with Mr. Holloway about getting a job here."
"What? Dad no, I already said I don't want to work here."
"Damian, you need to get a job. What if your motorcycle breaks down? How are you going to pay to get it fixed?"
"Bribe the mechanic with beer," he shrugs casually. "Dude drinks like twelve Bud Lights a day."
"Or to buy your own cigarettes?"
"Just bum them off someone else."
Devin scowls. His son had a loophole for everything. Anything to get out of paying for things. Meanwhile, Nancy is by the door trying not to laugh. This guy was a comedian at heart and while he dressed cool, he was clearly a bit of a dork and enjoyed when he had an audience.
"You can't do that for the rest of your life," his father continues.
"Sure, I can, just watch me. Watch me plan my escape route."
Damian turns to leave, but his father is quicker and grabs the back of his son's jacket.
"You're not going anywhere!" Devin continues.
Damian does large and exaggerated movements while trying to get out of his leather jacket and escape his father's grasp. It is so comedic that Nancy has to cover her mouth to stop herself from bursting into laughter.
"Help me!" he calls out comically. "I will not work for the bureaucracy! Don't turn me into a square! It's not hipped to be one!"
Nancy snorts and excuses herself from the room, allowing father and son to sort out their differences. Once she's just outside she begins giggling to herself, something that she definitely needed at the moment after another miserable interaction with her boss. If Damian did get a job here, it would make work more interesting and amusing that's for sure.
"Save yourself!" Damian whispers, surprising Nancy. He clings to the doorway dramatically as if being dragged back inside. "Get out while you still can!"
Nancy can't help but laugh at his theatrics as she walks away.
"Save me!" he yowls. "Save me!"
"Get back in here and shape up!" his father's voice demands.
Nancy laughs all the way back to the kitchenette. She grabs a rag and cleans up the coffee she spilled earlier. Looking at the pot, she sets it up for a fresh pot as per her boss's orders but decides to wait a few minutes before starting it. The last thing she wanted to hear was complaints of cold coffee.
She rounds the corner and sees Johnathan talking on the phone.
"…There's money in the jar above the fridge. I'm really sorry, but they need these photos. If I can get out, I'll come and get you from the store."
Nancy assumes that he's talking to Will.
"Thanks, buddy. I'll see you at home."
She reaches over and hugs him.
"What was that for?"
"Sounded like you needed one," she says.
"Yeah, Tom dumped these photos on me, and I can't seem to get them done before I was supposed to be home," he gripes, holding Nancy close. "And my mom expects me to pick up milk. Then I have to study for my chemistry test…"
She kisses him on the cheek.
"You're in a good mood," he notices, seeing the smile on her face.
Usually, by this point, she's miserable and is begging to be taken home.
"The new guy Mr. Michaels' is trying to get his son a job here and he's more of a class clown than a class act."
"What do you mean?"
Nancy guides Johnathan over to where they can get a view of the hallway. It is impeccable timing as both teenagers see Damian, dressed in his dad's ill-fitted suit jacket be dragged down the hall to Tom Holloway's office. His movements are still theatrical, waving his arms around in a flurry as his father pulls him by the coat.
He notices Nancy and Johnathan staring at him.
"They're trying to turn me into a bureaucrat!" he calls out to them in faked panic. "Save yourselves."
Mr. Michaels shoves his son into Mr. Holloway's office and slams the door.
Both teens burst out laughing.
"Maybe he should try out for the local theatre production," Johnathan snorts with laughter.
"I know."
Just then a loud clap of thunder is heard outside followed by a flash of lightning, and rain begins to pound against the windows, drenching them like a waterfall.
"Geez, I hope Will stays home until the storm passes," Johnathan says.
The two hug each other for a little longer, comforting … a shared understanding of the different stresses in their lives, but still able to be there for one another. Before long the lights flicker. Likely, a side effect of the storm.
The storm worsens with the wind howling and the rain pounding mercilessly against the glass panes.
All at once the lights go out. The coffee maker stops mid-brew.
"SHIT!" the couple says at the same time.
Johnathan rushes to the dark room, knowing the lack of light will ruin his photos. Nancy scrambles to the coffee maker, knowing there wasn't enough for all of the men for their meeting. The secretaries stand up and begin trying to get the phones to work. Noise also erupts from the various offices as reporters come out to investigate the problem or get more light on what they are working on.
Tom Holloway comes into the hallway. "Everyone remain calm, it was just the storm. Do your best to get whatever you can done. It probably won't last for too long… We might delay our meeting, but be prepared to stay late. Nancy, I'll take another cup of coffee. Two sugars and two creams."
"Yes Mr. Holloway," she says obediently. Fortunately, there was enough for her boss.
Mr. Michaels leaves the office with Damian on his heels. The young adult goes over to Nancy and opens the cupboards.
"Looking for something?" she asks.
"Got any secret stash of snacks?" he ponders. He opens the ones below but only sees the detergent and other cleaning supplies.
"Not unless you like Arabica beans," Nancy answers, grabbing creams from the fridge. "This is mainly for coffee."
"Come on seriously?" he groans. Under his breath he continues "Please don't hire me, Mr. Holloway. Please don't hire me, Mr. Holloway."
"You know it's good pay here," Nancy says, trying to come to the defence of The Hawkins Post, even though that's all she can say about it.
He leans in and whispers. "Pay does not make a good job be… if there are no snacks to be had and you're stuck with these old windbags."
Nancy snorts again, trying not to laugh. A partial definition of the jerks she works with.
"I see right through these guys. Set in their ways and just plain old-school. I wonder if my dad will take the hint."
"What do you mean?" Nancy asks, preparing to bring the coffee to Tom.
"When the power goes out during your interview, you should take that as an omen. An omen of bad things to come and that this job is not worth it."
A/N: A new perspective. It looks like the power outage was town-wide, not unlike a similar event from Season 3. The other kids didn't notice because they were mainly outside and didn't need power for their discoveries. Hope you enjoy the chapter and thank you for everyone's continued support.
Responses to reviews/comments:
GlaringEyes: Yes, a big step towards the next part of the story. Bev, Bill, Ben, Mike, El, Dustin, Will, Max and now Lucas. A true team in the making. I'm hoping that Richie, Eddie and Stan join in soon. We know it always takes everyone to stop the threats.
They have made the connection and you are correct, in any battle, you need people who know their enemies and can develop strategies for them.
I'm looking forward to writing about their reactions to the "beep beep" Demogorgon as well. It is a creepy image to imagine. Also, I think this chapter answers your question.
Larry: Interesting thought...
jackie: Be patient it is coming
Guest: I'm very sorry for the confusion, if you read the caption at the top of Halloween Part 2, I published that chapter for Halloween last year. It doesn't happen until later in the story. I'm sorry about the confusion it might be causing, but if you want to read the latest chapter, you have to go back one.
Harry Potter: Are you confused about the chapter name or that chapter order? I'm very sorry for the confusion, if you read the caption at the top of Halloween Part 2, I published that chapter for Halloween last year. It doesn't happen until later in the story. I'm sorry about the confusion it might be causing, but if you want to read the latest chapter, you have to go back one