"Aftermath" - Part Two

Part Two

            Hopp had never been so relieved to be back at the house. He practically stormed his way in through the front door, not exactly slamming it shut but certainly loud enough to alert Joyce that he was back. He knew she would have questions about why he came back home and not go to work. Bracing himself for that conversation, he grabbed a can of lite beer out of the fridge, switched on the living room television set, and lounged in front of it.

            “Hopp?” He finally heard Joyce call from the other side of the house.

            “I’m in here, hon,” Jim called back, taking a sip. Lite beer didn’t have the same zest as the real thing. He really needed that buzz to take the edge off, but Joyce kept buying the “diet” stuff to help with his put-on fitness regimen.

            Joyce walked into the room, looking and even sounding uneasy as she asked, “Um, why aren’t you at work?”

            “I wasn’t feeling well,” Jim answered between sips. “Don’t worry. The boss understood, as soon as I called in…although he warned me that the next sick day would be my last day at work. So, I guess the Disneyland trip is off.” He drank the beer can dry, his weary eyes glued on the Rockford Files rerun on television. “I haven’t been right since the Cthulhu thing, Joyce. Those jogs I’ve been taking every morning aren’t for my diet…it’s for my mind. I didn’t want to tell you or the kids because I didn’t want to ruin what we’ve got here in the Hills. I had to get Jane out of Hawkins for her own good.”

            “Mm-hmm,” Joyce mumbled.

            Jim frowned at her mumbling, a bit offended. “Joyce, I’m over here admitting that I’m weak, and all you can say in return is ‘Mm-hmm’?” He pried his eyes away from the television screen long enough to look at her.

            She looked really disturbed, but not because of Hopp.

            He noticed her eyes shifting between him and the couch.

            Following her gaze, he looked to the couch and saw something that made him jump out of his lounge chair. There, sitting on the living room couch, was a small elf-like creature with bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls, a pencil-like nose, and long bat-like pointed ears. Its skin was brown yet a bit pale in complexion.

            “What is that thing?!” Hopp cried in terror.

            “Do not be afraid of Dobby,” the creature told him. “Dobby is a friend of Harry Potter. Dobby became a lost elf when the Malfoys exiled themselves from the Wizarding World, leaving Dobby without a master until he met Harry Potter.”

            “Why are you here telling us all of this?!” Jim thundered, his threatening tone (spurred from a cocktail of impatience and anxiety) frightening the elf named Dobby.

            “Hopp, calm down!” Joyce insisted.

            “Calm down?!” Jim scoffed. “Joyce, there is a Keebler elf wearing a potato sack in our house!”

            “Dobby is not a Keebler elf,” Dobby proclaimed. “Dobby is a free elf and works at Hogwarts now.”

            “Well, that’s good for Dobby,” Jim derided. “Why doesn’t Dobby go back there and leave Jim and Joyce alone?!”

            “Dobby cannot leave when Dobby’s job hasn’t finished yet,” the elf said. “Dobby was sent by Harry Potter to assist Si.”

            “I was just about to tell him that Si isn’t here but in Hawkins, when you showed up,” Joyce informed Jim.

            “Of course,” Jim groaned. “The one person he’s looking for is 2,000 miles away.”

            Hearing that length of distance, Dobby inquired, “How far is 2,000 miles?”

            “Very far,” Jim emphasized.

            Needless to say, Dobby didn’t take this news well. Without warning, he suddenly went to the nearest wall and began slamming his head against it repeatedly, breaking through the plaster. “Hey, hey, hey!” Joyce cried, rushing to stop Dobby from harming himself any further. “Don’t hurt yourself like that!”

            “But Dobby has made a great error,” he whimpered. “Now, Dobby must be punished!”

            Jim couldn’t believe how he had been roped into this situation, all because an elf from another dimension took a wrong turn at Albuquerque. Going to the wall phone in the kitchen, he said, “I’ll call Si, so she can pick this guy up in her ship.” Just as he was about to dial the number Si provided him with for a direct line to her TARDIS, there was a knock on the door.

            The Hoppers weren’t expecting company that morning, which only made this unexpected visit that much more unnerving, particularly with Dobby in their home. But the elf knew to make himself scarce, vanishing out of sight with the snap of his fingers. Neither Jim nor Joyce had a clue where he might’ve gone or if he was gone for good.

            There was no time to mull it over, with their visitor persistently knocking on their front door. “Alright! I’m comin’!” Jim told them, rushing to open the door for their guest.

            At their doorstep stood a rigorous-looking black man in aviator sunglasses and a green U.S. Army uniform, decorated with an assortment of medals, pins, and badges that classified his rank and affiliation. One of them was also a nametag that read “Sullivan.”

            “Mr. Hopper,” Sullivan formally addressed, removing his shades. “Lt. Colonel Jack Sullivan. Sam Owens sent me. May I come in?”

            Jim maintained a firm, guarded stance at the doorway. “That depends, sir. Why did Owens send you to our house?”

            “Just to check in on everyone, specifically Jane,” Sullivan said.

            There was something about this “Sullivan” character that Jim didn’t quite trust. In spite of what he was told, this visit seemed more than just a routine check-in. He opted to cooperate, not wanting to draw any suspicion. So, he allowed Lt. Colonel Sullivan inside. “Just to let ya know, Colonel, Jane’s not here right now…she’s at school.”

            “I know,” Sullivan remarked. “Still, I was hoping you folks can fill me in on how she’s adapting to her new surroundings.”

            “She seems to be handling it just fine,” Joyce answered, being the more sociable one in this conversation. “Can I get you anything, Colonel Sullivan? Water? Juice? We’ve got beer, but it’s lite.”

            “No, thank you,” Sullivan respectfully declined. “If I may ask, Mr. Hopper, why aren’t you at work right now?”

            “What does that have to do with anything?” Hopp disputed.

            “Hopp,” Joyce scoldingly whispered.

            “No!” Jim refused to hold back. “They’re keeping tabs on my work days!”

            “Well, they are the government, Hopp,” Joyce rationalized. “They keep tabs on everybody’s work days.”

            Jim hated to be called out on such an obvious fact. “Alright, fine!” he consented. “I needed a day away from my boss – the guy’s a real pain!” Although it wasn’t the whole truth, his frustrations made it believable enough for Sullivan.

            “I get ya on that, Mr. Hopper,” the colonel dryly joked. “Just be aware that men are watching…men like Sam Owens. I know he’s the one responsible for your relocation, but he’s not being entirely honest with you.”

            “We’ll be sure to keep that under consideration, Colonel,” Jim scathingly said. “Are we done here?”

            Before Sullivan could answer, there came a loud bang from the kitchen, alarming Jim, Joyce, and Sullivan (most of all). It prompted the colonel to investigate, which made the Hoppers more unsettled. If Dobby was still somewhere in the house, they hoped the little elf was invisible. Otherwise, Sullivan’s visit would last a lot longer than they’d rather have it, and their time in Lenora Hills would be finished.

            Luckily, Sullivan didn’t find anything in the kitchen or elsewhere in the house.

            “You folks have a good day,” he stiffly told the Hoppers as he left.

            Joyce shut the door behind him just as soon as he was out, breathing a sigh of relief. “That…was a close one,” she said.

            “Dobby agrees.” Jim and Joyce jumped as the elf reemerged in the kitchen, smiling timidly. “That Muggle was terrifying.”

            “Yeah, well…I’ve got a feeling it’s not the last we’ll hear from him,” Jim pessimistically surmised.

-----------------------------

            The very fact that Steve decided to put aside his evening plans just to accompany Si in inspecting the “Hellboy Sighting” meeting at the town hall showed how much he really cared for her. “You didn’t have to come, ya know,” she told him.

            “You kiddin’?” Steve smirked. “I’m here for you, babe. Always.”

            He placed his arm affectionately around her as they walked in. The comfort he provided was soothing to Si, who had been a bit on edge since the Cthulhu incident. Being with Steve in a body that was the same age as him, Si felt like that happy, small-town teenager she once was – before leaving with the Doctor in his TARDIS…before being turned into a full-bloodied Time Lord…before all the wars.

            The atmosphere inside the town hall was sparse.

            Only two people were there: the men who organized the event – Bob Newby and Murray Bauman. The former spotted Steve and Si as they walked in. A very meek, slightly pudgy man of middle age, Bob walked over with two paper plates that had store-bought cookies on them, as well as small plastic cups of lemonade. “Hey there,” he greeted with a friendly disposition. “Welcome. Name’s Bob Newby. Glad you could come. Have a seat anywhere. Meeting will start as soon as everybody’s here.” On that, he rejoined Murray to continue all the arrangements.

            “This is so sad, it’s pathetic,” Steve snickered. “I think we’re the only two people who even bothered to come here.”

            Looking over the area, Si could see how right Steve was in his observation. Coupled with the fact that the meeting was meant to begin a whole 30 minutes before they arrived, it was clear that Bob and Murray had a dud on their hands. “Still, I hate to see such delicious cookies and lemonade to go to waste,” Si thought aloud.

            “Really? ‘Cause they taste like garbage,” Steve said upon taking a bite of his cookie and a swig of the lemonade.

            Si did so herself and cringed. Once again, Steve’s instincts were correct.

            Tossing the food into the nearest trash bin, Si and Steve made their way for the exit. However, just as they neared the door, it flew open. Si and Steve stood back as Eddie Munson – a student at Hawkins High School and metalhead by nature – walked right in. “Harrington!” he bellowed. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a believer of the unknown.” His wild, expressive eyes then centered on Si. “And you brought the G.F., too? What, you saw the monster while making out in the woods one night?”

            Si and Steve figured it was just Eddie that came and no one else.

            But then, more Hawkins residents entered: Chrissy Cunningham (another Hawkins High student and cheerleader), Fred Benson (also a student who worked at the school’s newspaper), and even Robin Buckley.

            Mike, Erica, and Dustin were there as well, mainly because of Eddie.

            “Okay…this is now a problem,” Steve stated the obvious.

            While Eddie and the other attendees took their seats, Si and Steve pulled the kids aside and spoke privately. “Eddie saw Hellboy?!” Si exclaimed in a hushed voice. “Why didn’t you convince him that he wasn’t real?!”

            “We did,” Dustin admitted.

            “But then he saw Bob and Murray’s flyers all over town,” Mike said. “And that only piqued his curiosity even more.”

            “This is mental!” Dustin groaned. “We’re supposed to have a session tonight!” That was evident from the “Hellfire Club” shirts that Mike and Dustin wore, along with Eddie.

            Hearing this, Steve looked on Erica in surprise. “You, too?”

            “Don’t get any funny ideas, Harrington!” she retorted. “I’m only here with you nerds because Lucas was too busy with his big game!”

            Si snapped her fingers in realization. “That’s right! Tonight’s the championship game.” Looking to where Chrissy was sitting, she reflected, “I’m wonder why she’s not there right now. She’s on the cheer squad.”

            “If you people back there in the corner are finished, the Meeting of the Believers will commence!” On Murray’s belligerent summoning, Si and the boys joined with the group, sitting in the seats closest to the stage where Murray ran the proceedings from the podium. He wasn’t exactly the type to oversee a public event, appearing rather unhinged with his wild, thick beard, receding combover, and polio shirt.

            After a long and tedious introduction, delivered in a nasally condescending voice that Si reviled with every syllable, Murray opened the floor to whoever wanted to share their “Hellboy sighting” story.

            First was Eddie, who was with Chrissy at a clearing in the woods (for reasons neither of them was willing to disclose publicly) when they spotted, as he described, “This really big dude in a trench coat.” Chrissy, of course, was the first to see him, screaming in terror. Eddie only caught a fleeting glimpse when Hellboy himself fled from the screams.

            Robin shared her encounter afterwards, recounting one night in which she was driving home from work, when something “bigger than a bear but moved as fast as a deer” crossed right in the path of her car. The only evidence she had of this was the dented fender bender of her vehicle.

            But it was Fred’s story that provided concrete proof of Hellboy’s existence. “I was able to snap a photo of him, undetected,” he said, going as far as to show the folder that he brought with him, containing the photograph in question.

            Murray and Bob were overjoyed to hear this, with the former shouting, “God bless the American educational system for Photography courses!”

            Si felt herself go numb as Fred presented the photo to the group.

            It was grainy and blurred in quality, looking like one of those bigfoot snapshots in the early 1970s. But, sure enough, the object captured in the photograph strongly resembled Hellboy. Still, Dustin tried to play it off as something else: “Looks like a shadow to me.”

            Following his lead, Steve pitched in: “Yeah, totally a shadow…or a bush.”

            “A bush? Really?!” Murray scrutinized. “Are you both really that blind?! It’s clearly the creature!”

            “It definitely is,” the shaken Chrissy verified. “It’s the same shape I saw in the woods.”

            Appreciative as Si was for Steve and Dustin’s attempt in diverting curiosity, Chrissy’s verification left no doubt over the presented evidence. Bob proceeded to ask Fred, “Can you take us to where you took this photo?”

            “S-Sure,” Fred replied, a little overwhelmed. It was the first moment of his young life that he was being depended on by so many people – including popular girl Chrissy Cunningham – to do something so profound.

            “We’re heading out there this very second,” Murray boldly declared. “Anyone brave enough to come along is more than welcome.” Virtually everyone there agreed to join the hunt, much to the disdain of Si, Mike, Dustin, Steve, and Erica.