Over the years nightmares have been a frequent friend in the Hopper house. Chills and a scream lodged in the back of her throat is the only way that Christine Hopper knows how to wake up. Her father tries hard to believe his daughter has a handle on...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
• • •
"You see why I have to stop the truth from spreading, too." Dr. Owens' plays on the tape again, and Ronda stares blankly at the wall. She's heard this so many times now, she could recite it in the same tone that he uses. She's getting bored and tired. "Just the same as those weeds there. By whatever means necessary."
They've made so many copies and have packaged enough to be delivered to more than a dozen tapes and letters to the biggest newspapers in the Midwest. This one is the last copy.
"Whoo-hoo!" cheers Murray, pouring everyone another drink. "To taking down the man."
Nancy grins widely. Ronda looks at all of them passively as they all hold up their cups. "To taking down the man," they repeat.
Murray downs his drink, definitely intoxicated. "Commie bastards sure know how to make a spirit. Am I right?"
He begins pouring Nancy another drink. She stops him, holding out a hand. "Oh, no, no, no. We—we can't."
Jonathan bobs his head with her. "Yeah, no. No, I've got to drive."
Baffled, Murray asks, "Drive? What, tonight?"
"Our parents—" begins Nancy.
"Would be proud," Murray continues, "if they knew what you were up to." He waves a hand, leaning back in his armchair. "Just tell 'em you're at Tammy's or Dawn's or whoever's, and take my guest room."
"I mean, do—do you want to stay?" asks Jonathan, looking at both of the girls.
"Well, it is pretty late." Nancy stares at Ronda for a moment, her doe eyes wide. She has her lips pressed together.
"Okay," whispers Ronda.
Jonathan pats the sofa, looking at Murray. "Uh, could I use the sofa?"
"Okay, I'm confused. What's going on here? A lovers' quarrel?"
"No, no. I mean, we're just friends," says Jonathan.
"Friends," adds Nancy, a little too slow.
Murray laughs for a little too long. "You've told me a lot of shockers today, but that...that is the first lie."
Suddenly, Ronda is less bored. She stares at Murray, perhaps he'll be able to lodge some sense into both of her friends' brains and finally get them to admit their feelings.
"It's not a lie," says Nancy.
"No? You're young, attractive. You've got chemistry, history, plus the real shit, shared trauma." Murray points to Jonathan. "Trust issues, am I right? Something to do with your dad."
"What?" Jonathan asks, defensively. "No, I mean, my dad's—"
"An asshole," Nancy adds, bobbing her head.
Murray hums, "It is a curse to see so clearly. You," he says to Nancy, who looks up at him. "You're harder to read. Probably, like everyone, afraid of what would happen if you accepted yourself for who you really are and retreated back to the safety of—name?" Murray snaps his fingers. "Name?"
"Steve," says Ronda.
"Oh," Murray mocks. "Steve. We like Steve. But we don't love Steve."
Nancy chews on her bottom lip, not replying for a moment. "Steve and I aren't together anymore. We broke up a long time ago."
"Well, of course. There's a competitor," Murray says, as if it's obvious. "A girl that you're jealous of. Someone that you could never actually win against, even though she's no real threat to you."
Ronda's eyes widen, realizing that Murray is describing a jealousy Nancy has for Chris.
"I'm...I'm not jealous..."
"There it is, ladies and germs, the second lie of the evening. So, how'd I do?" Murray looks at Ronda, who gives him a thumbs up. Nancy and Jonathan can barely look at each other. "My goodness. You two are adorable, aren't you? Listen, there's a pull-out sofa in my study if you want it. But if I were you, I'd cut the bullshit and share the damn bed."
Murray heads up the stairs to his own room. The three teenagers get ready for bed, with Nancy sleeping in the spare room, Jonathan on the pull-out sofa in the study, and Ronda on the couch in the main room. Ronda is about to doze off when she hears both Nancy and Jonathan exit their rooms. The two of them are whispering, thinking that Ronda is asleep. The girl listens closely.
"I mean, what? He knows us for a couple of hours, and he's got us all figured out?" Nancy scoffs.
Jonathan folds his arms across his chest. "Exactly. God."
Nancy smiles wearily. "Okay, yeah. I feel...I'm glad we feel the same way."
"Yeah. Yeah, it's fine." Jonathan rocks on his heels.
Nancy backs away toward the room. "Uh, so, uh, good night, I guess."
"Yeah, um, good night."
The two of them turn around, heading back towards their rooms. Ronda peeks over the couch, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "Come on." Seconds later, Jonathan is back outside, moving towards Nancy's room. He hesitates, and is about to turn around, when Nancy opens the door, nearly running into him. She gasps quietly and Jonathan kisses her. Nancy pulls away for a moment, then kisses him in return. She yanks on his shirt, pulling him into her room and shutting the door behind them.
"Fucking finally," Ronda sighs, plopping down on the couch.
Robbie sits on a bench outside of a bookstore; it's nearing ten in the morning. There are a few people milling around the sidewalks of Columbus, Ohio. He's been sitting on the bench for about thirty minutes. He wanted to come to the location early, to see if there are any signs this might all be a trap. He glances down at the watch on his wrist. Soon, Lisa Drewins should be walking down the street, toward the bookstore. She'll be wearing a red knitted hat. That's how he'll know that it's her; but she won't know that it's Robbie meeting her and not Chris Hopper.
Not a second early or late, a woman wearing a red knitted hat on her head walks toward the bookstore, she pays no attention to Robbie, but heads inside the bookstore. For a second, Robbie hesitates. This could end poorly if he accidentally scares her, but his brother asked for Chris's help. He has to give this a try.
Relieved to see that not many people are inside the bookstore, Robbie silently wanders the shelves, keeping an eye on Lisa Drewins as she, too, wanders between the shelves. She stops herself from heading down an aisle labeled "Thrillers" and turns. Robbie ducks away from her field of vision, grabbing a random book off the shelf.
Heart racing, Robbie places the book back on the shelf after a moment, ready to keep moving. He looks up and stops dead in his tracks as Lisa Drewins stares at him. Her blue eyes are wide, pale skin glowing against her red hat. Her shockingly blond hair is pushed off one shoulder. Robbie swallows his panic, trying to think of something to say.
"You look just like him," Lisa whispers, her mouth parted slightly.
