Haze & Hellfire

Chapter 6: Battered Boys and Shattered Girls

Hawkins, summer of 1985.

Who would've thought that Hawkins could feel like the warmest place on the earth in August?

The blazing sunshine has put the smalltown inhabitants in a zombie-like daze of pure heatstroke, not being used to temperatures of this magnitude. The concrete vibrates in the non-existent breeze and a mediocre convertible that drives by the two girls walking down the street blasting "The Boys of Summer", testifies that it's still the height of summer.

The well maintained gardens of one of Hawkins small residential areas shift in a cavalcade of radiant, enchanting summer colors; leaves in hundreds of shades of green in contrast to the flashing flower beds. Roses in every possible color, snow white gardenias and bright, yellow marigolds. The vegetation, although it's a neat suburban area, is exuberant and lush, but meticulously managed. The trees are tall, the bushes are dense and perfectly cut. It's a neat little residential area, a bit smaller than her former home area in Dallas Texas, but mostly it's the same suburb design. Well-maintained houses, two cars in the driveway and the sound of kids running through a water dispenser in some backyard.

Dallas throws a glance at the seventeen year old girl next to her; a strawberry blonde young woman dressed in pink track shorts and a white top with a matching pink stripe from Sears summer catalog, shining like a bronzed, tanned Skipper-doll in the blazing sun. Dallas feels how her heart almost skips a beat with happiness at the sight of her.

Chrissy Cunningham; Dallas' gushingly pretty, bubbly and sweet cousin, also her newfound best friend. In her hand she holds an extra large mug filled with clinking ice cubes and lemonade. Just like them, the large paper cup is sweating in the scorching heat. In stark contrast to Chrissy, Dallas doesn't follow the latest fashion trends. She would rather eat hobnails than wear pastels!

Instead, she trots along beside Chrissy, sweating like a sinner in church in her black frayed denim shorts, Springsteen t-shirt, tube socks and dirty sneakers.

Objectively, they are an odd couple to say the least. Chrissy belongs to Hawkins' High School-elite, the upper echelon that to ordinary mortals is like standing and gazing up at Mount Olympus in ancient mythology; radiant, successful, unattainable and too good to be true. Almost. It's an exaggeration, but through field studies Dallas has established that the popular crowd is always surrounded by a certain glow of charisma, beauty and talent, and very often, wealth. And Chrissy has hit the jackpot big time, over and over!

She's drop dead gorgeous with strawberry blonde shoulder length hair; big blue eyes and great features. She's the head cheerleader of Hawkins High, she's charismatic, has good grades and her family lives in a big colonial with white colons, window shutters and a picket fence. What sets her apart from the rest of the popular crew is her genuine kindness. Up until now, Dallas has never met anyone as kind hearted as Chrissy, but her good heart comes with the price of easily being taken advantage of, which ironically was what brought them together at the public pool and, in the end, the reason they're walking here next to each other on the burning hot sidewalk.

A true 'pinch me in the arm'-coincidence.

Another car whizz past them. The speed that is undeniably above the speed limit creates a cool, but short temperature change as it swooshes by them. Hawkins in August is almost as bad as Texas during its hottest weeks of summer, peaking this afternoon at frying eggs on the tarmac-94 degrees.

"Tell me again, how hot was the hottest you experienced in Texas?" Chrissy asks and slurps on her lemonade.

Dallas' mouth waters at the sound of the clinking ice cubes. She chugged her own mint-lemonade a few seconds after they left the town square, but Chrissy's more restrained and still has some left.