“Missed you,” Eddie leans really close, watching as Stevie frowns, then wrinkles up his nose.
“Was right here,” Stevie answers, still sleepy, eyes still closed. Stevie yawns, and Eddie tilts his head to see right to the back. Stevie’s teeth are there, and he’s pink on the inside, but then his tongue gets in the way and Stevie closes his mouth again.
“No, you go somewhere else when you’re dreaming.”
Steve blows air out of his nose, then a small laugh, “okay baby.”
Half packet of goldfish.
Eddie sprinkles them into the lunch box.
No, whole packet.
Eddie sprinkles the rest.
Stevie Love likes goldfish.
Apple, sandwich, goldfish, Eddie stares down at it a little longer. Stevie Love really likes fruit, so Eddie adds a pear. The he decides he wants the pear himself, and swaps it for a banana. He views their lunch boxes, sitting next to each other on the counter. Eddie is pretty sure he’s not missing anything.
He tears off the corner of a cereal box flap, carefully drawing a heart on it before he drops it into Stevie Loves lunch box.
There. All done. Finished.
Eddie lets himself into the back of the flower shop. There’s been a delivery, Eddie can smell it. There’s new scents of flowers since yesterday. It was the delivery man that Eddie likes. He looks old, like Hopper, and smells like a kind of cigarette Eddie’s never smelled anywhere else, and Eddie can still smell the shadow of it in the air. They’re made with brown paper, Eddie has seen. But he always whistles wherever he goes, and Eddie likes that.
“Eddie? That you hon?”
“It’s me!” Eddie calls back. He pauses, still gripping at his hung up jacket, pursing his lips. He blows. Nothing happens though, no noise comes out.
“Just sorting a delivery!”
Eddie puts his lunch box in the tiny fridge, he gets his apron, popping it over his head, crossing the strings behind his back and tying a careful bow in front, twist, over, loop loop, pull.
Eddie goes through his morning routine, carefully watering and tidying and rotating the buckets. Some get topped up, but some get swapped out for fresh water, Eddie carefully scenting the flowers and the water as he goes, “more sugar, I think.”
“Sure honey, you do it,” Chrissy answers absently, putting all the new deliveries carefully into their buckets for Eddie to rearrange. “I’ll start on the orders for today in a minute, okay?”
“We will be fine out here,” Eddie replies, “Chrissy, this one needs the medicine!” Eddie carries the bucket out, his nose itchy and twitching. Eddie drains the water, swapping flowers out into a fresh bucket, scrubbing and rinsing the old one.
Chrissy tuts, "I said don't lift them, they're heavy!"
"Not so bad," Eddie tells her, but she's shaking her head at him. It's hard to get used to, sometimes Eddie forgets that the baby is there.
Chrissy comes to do the medicine for him, “how many drops?”
Eddie hums, pretending like he’s thinking. Chrissy always questions him if he answers too fast, “four?” he volunteers.
“Sounds good to me,” she adds a few drops of the chemicals to some fresh water, this bucket smelt a little musty, and Eddie knows it means something is growing in the water that shouldn’t be, so it’s Eddie’s job to make sure it gets tipped away and cleaned and the flowers all get a fresh bath.
But Chrissy won’t let him touch the chemicals any more; not since the baby.
Eddie sweeps up the dust and lost leaves, arranging the new buckets and all their little name and price signs. He pauses, trying to blow again. No noise. Eddie wets his lips, pursing them and trying again. Still nothing. He frowns, “Chrissy do you know how to whistle?”
“I know,” she calls from the back room, whistling a few wavering notes, “but I’m not very good.”
“Can you teach me?”
“I can try! Can Steve whistle?”
“I...yeah. He does a bit sometimes. He makes like a…” Eddie struggles to communicate the noise, “like a woo wooooooo noise?”
Chrissy immediately bursts out laughing, she looks happy though, when her head pops through the doorway, “Eddie that’s a wolf whistle. It means he...well, when does he normally do that?”
Eddie frowns, thinking, “not sure,” he goes to his knees to shift the front row of buckets along, “sometimes when I’m getting changed?”
“Uh hu,” she waggles her eyebrows.
Eddie knows what that means. It means she means something about sex. “Oh. Oh is it when he thinks I-”
Eddie struggles to articulate it for a second.
“It’s when he thinks you’re being extra hot, hun.”
“Yeah,” Eddie grins, “Stevie Love is always hot. If I learn how to whistle, I’ll have to do it all the time.”
Chrissy disappears back through the door to the back, cackling. “Don’t forget we’re closing early!” she calls once she’s stopped laughing.
“I know,” Eddie calls back absently, “car needs to go to the hos-pital.”
“It’s called a garage, Eddie!”
I know it. Garage.
Eddie checks the list he has in his head; Buckets and flowers and labels all neat. Floor tidy. He checks behind the register, quickly straightening everything, making sure the ribbons and twine and wrapping paper are all right. The pens are where they should be; two on top of the register drawer. The note cards are stacked, clean and neat and tidy, and the little clips to hold them. Business cards. Everything looks right.
Eddie pulls the blinds up, unlocks the door, and then flips the sign. The pink princess watch says he’s done it five minutes early, but still, the cheery little bell above the door tinkles, and Eddie smiles at their first customer.
Eddie waves to Chrissy as she pulls out of the driveway, watching as her car gets smaller and smaller as it travels away up the street. He hopes the garage can fix the strange squeaking noise. Chrissy can hear it, but it doesn’t hurt her the way it does Eddie.
Eddie waits until she’s all the way gone, turning, crunchy something makes a noise under his foot. A little card. There’s a blue eagle on it, and it has a red and white boarder. Eddie picks it up, turning it over; “they missed me. They have a parcel,” Eddie works it out. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a card like this before.
It says it’s something for Stevie Love.
It says it’s at the post office. Eddie knows where that is, he’s walked past it before. Eddie frowns, thinking, he’s pretty sure it’s somewhere between the flower shop and the library. One of those streets.
It says he needs identification. And something with an address.
The drawer in the little table in the hall has loads of things with the house address on it. Bills. Stevie Love has to pay them, to keep on the water and the lights and the quiet thrumming humming noises of the power in the walls.
And maybe the nice people who take away the trash, but Eddie thinks that maybe that’s tax. Like the roads. And Hopper.
It’s been a long time since Stevie Love explained it.
Stevie Love isn’t home until after half four, Eddie checks his watch. He thinks he has time to walk there and back.
And it means Stevie Love won’t have to go out again, so that’s good.
Eddie considers, briefly, calling Stevie at work so he can collect it on his way home but...Eddie thinks maybe he needs the little Eagle card. And maybe the Bills.
Decided, Eddie heads back out, locking the door behind him.
Eddie scowls into the wind. He doesn’t like it. It makes things move sometimes, and produces funny noises in the house. Also you can’t see it, which just seems...not right. He knows there was wind in the before, because there must have been, but...he can’t remember it ever bothering him like it does now.
It’s also full of smells, some of them confusing and from far away. It makes it even harder to find the post office. A lot of buildings on this street, and the one over, look the same. It’s nothing like The Upside Down, where Eddie could follow scent, and the feel of vibrations under his hands would alert him to danger.
Eddie looks around, orienting himself, and he suddenly knows where he is, Family Video is right there. Robin.
Eddie’s pushing the door open without really having made the choice to even head that way, “Hi Robin.”
“Hey Eddie,” she stands from where she was leaning against the counter, “no Steve?”
Eddie shakes his head no. “He’s still at work.”
“Okay well...I kind of wanted to talk to you, anyway,” she goes on tip toe, peering around the store, double checking they’re alone. “So I’ve thought about it, and I know Steve will probably, like, insist it’s him, but I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“It’s not a good idea,” Eddie agrees, nodding, unsure as to what they’re talking about. Things usually...work their way out though. Sometimes people have to talk a little more before Eddie figures it out.
“Good. And I have really thought about it, so I mean it, so we can tell Steve together.”
“Yes,” Eddie nods more, “tell Stevie what?”
“That it should be me. My toes.”
No, Eddie still doesn’t understand, he’s pretty sure, “your toes?”
Robin’s nodding, which means yes, “for the baby. Eddie, he can’t lose any more toes, I’m pretty sure you need them for like, balance. So, yeah. If the baby needs to eat a toe or two,” she takes a deep breath, “it’s going to be mine.”
Eddie wriggles his toes inside his boots. He’s pretty sure his toes might not be any good if their baby needs them. And Robin is probably right that Stevie Love shouldn’t lose any more toes. “Okay!”
“Okay, good. And don’t tell Chrissy, she thinks she’s argued me down to us giving one toe each, but her toes are like, really cute Eddie, it would be a literal crime.”
Eddie nods, back on steady ground. This he understands, “Stevie Love has cute toes too. The ones that are left, anyway. Oh! Do you know how to whistle?”
Eddie spots the big blue bird half way down the second street, right where Robin told him. It didn’t take too long. He likes the red stripes in the windows; the stars.
He licks his lips again, makes the shape like Robin showed him, but, still, no noise.
From the flag, Eddie knows the pattern is from the flag. He doesn’t like the flag at the moment though, where it is above the door, sticking out from the building. It makes a harsh snapping noise, and Eddie has to resist flinching.
The buzzer over the door makes a horrible noise too, the buzzing seeming to wait in Eddie’s ears for a little while afterwards. Eddie much prefers the sweet soft tinkle of the bell at the flower store.
Eddie looks around, they sell things here, like a normal store, but there’s also a desk with people waiting, so Eddie joins the back of the queue.
“Edwin Munson,” Eddie tells the lady behind the counter, producing the card and his drivers license and the folded together Bills, “I really like your bird button.”
The lady smiles at him, “it’s a broach. A peacock.”
“I’ve never seen a peacock. Not a real one. Only on the T.V.”
“You don’t get out much? Pretty sure they have them at the petting zoo.”
Eddie vaguely remembers Stevie mentioning the petting zoo, at Christmas, “do they have reindeer?”
“Yeah, two. I take my grand kids there sometimes, they love it.”
Eddie nods. Maybe Stevie Love will take me.
“So, this isn’t for you?”
“It’s not for me,” Eddie grins, excited to tell her, “it’s for my best friend Stevie, I wanted to be helpful and come get this for him.”
“So that means the name here is Steve Harrington,” the lady looks from the card to something else, “well that’s very thoughtful of you Mister Munson...”
Eddie leans up on tip toe, peering over the counter, “thank you ma’am.”
She smiles at him for that. Joyce says manners are important.
“I’m sorry to say though, I need to I.D of the person named on the parcel. I’m afraid you can’t collect for someone else. Here you are Mister Munson.”
The Bills, Eddie’s drivers license, and the little card get passed back to Eddie, “you need proper authorization, so either written consent or you need to be named on the re-delivery request. Sorry.”
Eddie feels sad that he can’t help Stevie Love. And that he’s walked in the wind for no reason.
“Huh. Thought I was the only Munson in town,” a gruff voice speaks next to Eddie. It’s a man, older than Stevie Love. Maybe even older than Hopper. “You new around here?”
Eddie perks up, meeting someone new, “yes! Very new!”
“Oh, where’d you blow in from?”
Eddie frowns, briefly concerned about the wind, but he thinks he understands, “where did I come from?” The man frowns but nods, “Finland!”
“Oh aren't you a little sweetheart,” the lady behind the counter tells Eddie, handing him a plastic wrapped sucker from a dish on the counter.
“Thank you! I like the green ones.”
The Man, the other Munson, holds the door open for Eddie as they head out onto the side walk, “no idea where my family name is from, to tell you the truth. Maybe we’re related,” the man shifts the brim of his cap up and down, chuckling, before offering his hand to Eddie to shake, “Wayne Munson, nice to meet you.”
“Eddie Munson,” Eddie grins, he doesn’t get to shake hands with new people very often, “nice to meet you too.”
“Plans for the rest of the day?” Wayne has a hat on, and he sort of lifts the front part and gives it a little wiggle before settling it again.
“Got to walk home again now. Stevie has the car for work.”
“Harrington, right?”
Eddie nods, “he’s going to be home soon.”
They start walking, Wayne must need to go the same way, “you don’t have your own car? It’s a little tough to get around here without.”
“I know, but, it’s expensive. And,” Eddie struggles, can’t say about the baby. Can’t say about the wedding. Can’t say about maybe needing to move out, “they cost money.”
“Sure, but you got a job, dont’cha?”
Wayne says, ‘don’t you?’ all funny, all smudged together. Eddie nods, “yes! I work at the flower shop with my friend Chrissy. I like it very much.”
“Right so...everyone should have their own things son, if they want them, you can afford it.”
Eddie shrugs again, not sure, “I’ll talk to Stevie,” Stevie says we mustn't tell lies, but he knows they need to save as much as they can, and Eddie doesn’t really need a car right now, Stevie takes him to work and Chrissy brings him home. And Stevie Love takes him to band practice on his way to basketball, “Stevie keeps all my money safe.”
Wayne stops walking, so Eddie does too. He does that thing again, with his hat, “he does, does he?”
Eddie nods, “Stevie is the best!”
“Right and...what about your family? Are you going to go home to visit or..?”
“Oh no. I live here now! I don’t have any family.”
Wayne does the hat thing again, “but you...have your passport right?” Wayne’s voice sounds different, but Eddie doesn’t know what it means. Wayne is frowning, and that...sometimes isn’t good.
“I have one, Stevie keeps it safe for me.”
Wayne makes a noise. “I...listen, kid...tell you what, lets go and get a coffee?” Wayne points to a diner across the street.
“Oh no, I’m not allowed coffee.”
Wayne’s eyes go bigger, and then he sighs even bigger than that. He mumbles, ‘holy shit’ very quietly, but Eddie’s pretty sure he wasn’t meant to hear. The wind blows again, and Wayne smells like dusty old cigarette smoke and a tiny bit like old sweat. “Okay, how about I get whatever you want to drink?”
Eddie perks up, “I really like milkshakes,” and the wind blows again, and Eddie would like to be inside.
“Okay son, whatever you want, on me.”
"Whatever I want? Do you know how to whistle?"
The diner is noisy, and full of smells. This place has the kind of milkshakes that are made from the ice cream, so you can pick any flavor. Eddie has mint choc chip.
Even though it’s noisy, Eddie can still pick out what Wayne is saying from all the way over here. The funny material of the bench is a little creaky under Eddie’s butt, and he wriggles side to side to make it creak and squeak more.
The lady behind the counter seems nice, and when Wayne begs use of their phone, she shrugs and says ‘sure hon,’ before pulling it out and resting it on the counter.
Eddie perks up when Wayne says ‘Hopper,’ and he wonders if he’s talking about the Hopper Eddie knows, who maybe a Grass Hopper, like from the lawn.
Eddie slurps on his drink, and Wayne says, 'I really think this kid is in trouble.'
Eddie wonders who is in trouble, maybe Eddie can help.
“Listen son, uhm, do you want a ride home?”
Eddie looks out the window, the stars and stripes across the street is still wriggling madly in the wind, “okay!”
“I just need to swing in somewhere on the way, is that okay?”
Eddie does up his seat belt. Safe. “Okay! Robin said I have to lick my lips and make a little doughnut."
"Yeah..." Wayne pulls away from the curb, driving along the street, "you kind of curl up your tongue and keep it to the back of your teeth."
Eddie tries again, but Wayne stops him almost right away, "don't blow so hard. Go softly."
Carefully. Gently.
Eddie tries again, and makes a small thready sound, almost starling himself, he looks over at Wayne, wide eyed.
"Now you're getting it," Wayne laughs.
Eddie presses his nose to the glass, he’s almost certain he’s never been here before, new place.
“You want to come in a minute?”
“Sure,” Eddie slides out of Wayne’s truck, following him in. There are some signs around the long low building, Eddie knows, ‘county,’ but he sounds out, 'pre-cinct' slowly in his head.
There’s a lot of smells, but Eddie picks out Hopper pretty much the same time he sees the sign for Police.
There are people through the double doors, and some sitting at the untidy desks, and Wayne is talking to someone, asking for Hopper. Eddie grins, he’s getting to see where Hopper works! He follows along after Wayne, and Hopper even has his name on a door, which is nice for him.
Wayne talks to Hopper, Wayne sort of holding the door almost all the way closed, so Eddie listens through the gap, “so you think this kid is being held against his will?”
“Yeah but...he might not know it because he’s kinda’...different.”
“He might not know he’s being held against his will?” Hopper says, very slowly, “look, Wayne-”
“You never know what those Harrington’s-”
“Harrington?” Hopper sighs, “Eddie, get in here!”
Wayne moves a step to the side, and for the first time ever, Eddie gets to see where Hopper works. It smells very strongly of cigarettes. “Hello Hopper,” Eddie waves.
“Don’t tell me you’re...involved in this somehow Hopper-”
Hoppers already pulling a little bottle of something dark colored out of a drawer, “I really, really, wish I wasn’t.”
“Hopper, I’m not above reporting you as well when I-”
Hopper pours two glasses, “Jesus Wayne sit down, Eddie close the door.”
Wayne is staring off across the street and, sort of, chewing on nothing. Sometimes he mutters something to himself.
“Hopper’s going to take me home,” Eddie finally tells him.
“Yeah. Okay.”
But Wayne doesn’t really move, “are you okay?”
“I...I mean.” He takes a deep breath, “kind of hard to be, when you find out something like this. Always knew there was something going on with that place. And when that kid went missing, that didn’t add up, neither. Russians under the mall…” Wayne shakes his head, muttering to himself.
Wayne looks...sad. Eddie can’t tell exactly, because he doesn’t know Wayne that well. But he doesn’t look like Chrissy did when they told her. Hopper left out a lot of stuff though, El’s mind powers, the toes, Eddie and Steve being engaged, some other stuff. Hopper said he’ll tell Wayne the rest the next time they go fishing.
“Do you...do you want to come to a pot luck, at the weekend?”
Wayne finally turns, frowning, “pot luck?”
“Yeah,” Eddie brightens, “Hopper’s coming, and Joyce, and all the kids. It’s at mine and Stevie’s, and it means you can meet everyone and...Stevie's really nice. You’ll see.”
Two alternate poster designs featuring Steb, the fishguy/frogman from the Enforcers. Prints are available on INPRNT.
This is the draft of a poster that will be released in the coming days, with a black background to match the rest of the series.
Since I’m also writing a fanfiction set in the universe of Episode 7, even though our little fish has nothing to do with it, I’m leaving both the tumblr masterlist and the link to "Everytime it Rains."
People want to know whatever the fuck Christopher is but seem to forget about our fishy friend
Atlas Jericho Carmichael.
I love him just for the fact that he just exists with no other context. Like, yeah, wdym? That’s the head of the commission. He’s a robot and talking fish. Your boss isn’t a talking fish?
I wish we had more with this guy becuase I actually enjoyed him and think he was an awesome character design just for the weirdness of the world they’re in.
And before you say pogo exists and is indeed a talking ape, he was explained to be a science experiment by Reginald, an alien. So I give him leeway.
