Commitment (to the Bit) - 3/5
Here’s the update on AO3!
Dr. Jackson continues. “You mentioned these newly revealed and remembered childhood friends. Can they corroborate what happened?”
“Absolutely.” The mention of his friends has brought the first smile to Eddie’s face that she has seen. “I bet they’re already blowing up my phone.”
“So, can you tell me about them, Eddie?”
“Uh yeah. The person who called me to get back together was Mike Hanlon. He stayed behind in Derry, which might be why he wasn’t able to suppress things to the same extent as the rest of us. Also my friend Stanley seemed to remember more quickly than the rest, especially about the trauma.”
“Your friends had amnesia as well?” She asks.
“They did. The ones who left, especially. I know it sounds strange, but we relied on each other so much as kids, and remembering that now makes me think it might be some of what was missing in all of our adult lives. Nothing ever could shine as brightly, and it was just lost, and I think that I mourned that loss in a really maladaptive way.” He lets out a small sniff, eyes shining. “Guess I’m going to need therapy on the other side of this.”
“Do I have your permission after this to contact Mike or Stanley?”
“Yes, of course,” Eddie says eagerly before he looks off to the side. “Ugh. No, you can’t. It’s been about three weeks since everything went down, and Stan and his wife Patty had a trip abroad planned and they decided to still go. Then Mike, well, he just wanted to travel after being stuck in Derry, so he went along. They left about four days ago to do some backpacking off the grid in Spain, some famous trail. But you can totally call the others.”
“Who else were you with in Derry?” She asked, taking notes as Eddie speaks.
“My friends Richie, Bill, Ben and Bev.”
And there is no better time to drop yet another bomb on Eddie, so this segue is as good as any. “Myra didn’t see any names that she did not recognize in your cell phone. Or any texts,” Natasha says.
Eddie’s mouth drops open and he is silent. About a full minute passess as she sits with him, waiting for him to be ready to proceed.
“She deleted their contacts and conversations from my phone?” His voice is cold and steely again.
“She says they were never there, Eddie.”
“Oh, like hell. They were there, Doc,” Eddie says. He looks genuinely panicked.
She responds calmly, watching his responses carefully. “Do you know any of their numbers?”
“I mean, I was in the hospital. I didn't memorize their numbers. Richie put them in my phone for me. We had been out of contact for some time. I don’t really have many numbers memorized anyway, just work and Myra’s honestly.”
“Maybe we can contact their places of employment?”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea. So Richie, Richie Tozier. He lives in LA. He’s a comedian. His manager is Steve something-or-other. But, I don’t know what agency he works for...” Eddie pauses, ringing his hands. “Come to think of it, he might be hard to reach.”
“Your friend is Richie Tozier, the comedian? With the HBO specials?” Natasha asks, with her radar perking up.
“Yeah. My very best friend even. Can’t believe I forgot him, we were always bugging each other as kids, teasing and joking, but also so supportive, and it was the same way when we reconnected. It is so frickin’ nice that I can still give him shit. Last time we talked I told him, he still wasn’t funny, even if his Voices had gotten better, and we laughed for like five minutes straight as he brought out every last one of them.”
“Voices?” Natasha asks.
“Impressions. Geez. It’s like I’m talking to a shrink here,” he smiles charmingly at her, and the rapid changes in his mood are striking.
“So, if we can’t get through to Richie, what about the others?”
“We could try Bill. He’s in LA too. I don’t know his agent, but I do know he’s signed with Simon and Schuster, despite his deep aversion to good book endings. Shouldn’t be a problem to call the publishing house. Still not ideal though, geez, my asshole friends, am I right?”
“Just to clarify, your friend Bill?” She leaves her question open ended
“Yeah, Bill Denbrough.”
“The New York Times bestselling novelist? Is your other friend?” She has worked for years on her objectivity, and she brings that out now, avoiding the incredulity that would usually be in her tone.
“Yes, that’s him. Can’t write an ending to save his life? Just thinking, make sure you check my phone again Dr. Jackson. Richie put the numbers in, so God only knows, he probably put Bill in as “Big Bill” and his own info in as “Trashmouth” or something.”
“So, both of them are celebrities, famous individuals, without an easy way to contact them. How about the others?”
“Good point. And the others might be easier. We could try Bev Marsh, though she might be off work and with Ben right now,..my other friend Ben Hanscom. But her office might get a message through.”
Natasha wracks her brain at hearing these last two names, and just wants to kick herself. Such obvious grandiose behavior. A cadre of famous friends, conveniently unreachable. But, she wants to see how Eddie responds so she continues her line of questioning.
”Beverly Marsh - the fashion designer?” She asks.
“Yeah! That Bev. And Ben, we can try him too. I don’t know the name of Ben’s architectural firm off the top of my head, but it would be easy to google. Recently they built that BBC tower…” Eddie freezes, eyes widening as he stares directly at Natasha.
”Holy shit, I sound crazy, don’t I?” He asks. He brings his hand to his head, rumpling his perfectly coiffed hair in the process, before looking up at her with a defeated expression. “You don’t believe me at all. You think I made up some weird parasocial relationship with a bunch of random celebrities. Fuck. Shit.” He purses his lips, and looks down.
She clears his throat and waits till he looks up at her. “You don’t sound crazy, Eddie. I don’t use that word. I often see people who struggle, and these friendships sound like they’re very real to you.”
”They sound real to me,” he parrots. “What a nice way to say they’re all in my head.”
