#urdearestmom
Late July 1991, Iowa City, IA
The last few months, including the second half of second semester and the months of summer break, had been spent calculating costs of living and scouting the classifieds for apartment listings. Finally, at the end of June, Mike and El had settled on a little one bedroom thing close to campus. It was enough for them and had a pullout couch in the living room if anyone ever needed to stay over.
Today, however, is move-in day. They’ve spent all week figuring out how to pack as much as they can into the hand-me-down station wagon, but it isn’t enough. They’ve managed to fit most of their personal items, like clothes and books and some kitchen appliances they’ve bought, but the car isn’t nearly big enough to fit larger pieces of furniture like their new bed. What they’ve done is lash the mattress to the roof and Hopper has volunteered himself to drive up with the rest of their stuff the next day.
It’s six in the morning when they leave and El is half asleep, so Mike keeps the radio low. He drives with the hum of voices quiet in the background for a while, nothing but his thoughts for company. He’s excited to be living with El, on their own. They’d stayed in dorms last year, which, although convenient, meant they lived a floor apart. Sharing an apartment means they get to see each other all the time. And what could be better? It’s a big step to independence from their parents.
May 2020, Indianapolis, IN
Mike’s dicing an onion for dinner when his daughter interrupts.
“Hey, Dad? Can I talk to you?”
“Of course, anything you need,” he says, looking away from the knife for a second.
Vienna shifts her feet, looking apprehensive. Her dark hair spills over her shoulders, loose from the braids she’s had it in all day. “Um…”
Mike can see she’s nervous to tell him whatever it is, so he puts down the knife and pats her shoulder reassuringly. “Whatever it is, I’m not going to be mad. You can tell me.”
The pair stands in the kitchen in silence, interrupted only by Henry tripping down the stairs on his way out to see his girlfriend. He’s been back from college and spending as much time as possible with his family, but of course seeing Elora is a top priority too. Mike sees him give his sister what’s supposed to be an indiscreet thumbs up. Once he’s out the door, Mike turns back to his daughter.
“Anytime this year would be great, Vi.”
She screws her eyes shut and blurts it out. “I’m going on a date tomorrow!”
Maribel Wheeler woke up feeling like shit on Monday. She had a feeling that this week was going to be bad. She could feel herself getting a cold, and she knew her period was coming in the next few days or so. She wasn’t looking forward to it.
She dragged herself out of bed, groaning all the way through breakfast and all the way to school and all the way through homeroom. First period marched on, mind-numbing as usual, then second, then third and fourth. After fourth, Maribel made her way to the cafeteria for lunch.
She sank onto the plastic bench and lay on the table, feeling like she was melting into it. She was so tired. She didn’t perk up at all when she heard her friends sitting down around her.
The last time they visited was at Christmas, but that had been to see family, not high school classmates.
Mike’s asleep in the passenger seat after having stayed up way past his self-imposed bedtime last night trying to finish a section of his new manuscript. El’s driving. They’re on the interstate somewhere close to their hometown, and her brain constantly wanders from who she might see tonight to what her kids are up to to what did we have for dinner yesterday? Do we have leftovers?
Admittedly, it had been a little hard to leave the kids back at home, especially Vienna who is only four, but El knows that they’re safe and sound with the dos Santos. They have two daughters of their own who they’re doing a fine job with if what El knows of her son’s best friend is any indication. Anyhow, they’re only about two hours away, so if, God forbid, anything happens, they’re close enough to go home.
It’s raining heavily outside, so much so that Mike can’t even see out the windows. Everybody’s converged at the Byers-Hopper place, just like before (except before it had just been the Byers place. Now it’s a new house with a bigger family), and everything is going to shit. The Mind Flayer is back and worse than ever, worse even than the summer of ‘85. Everyone in Hawkins has been in hiding for the last week, and it’s been torrentially raining the whole time.
