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It was so cold in this damn place. For a brick building where the inside was concrete and steel bars, you’d think they’d warm it up a little. Then again, when you were in jail, warm was the last thing they usually wanted you to be. However, it was just lucky he wasn’t on the bad side this time, the only problem was a kid was instead. A seemingly decent one as well. Wayne’s kid. A bit of a troublemaker and a outcast of town, but nothing too serious to worry about in the great span of thing. Or at least, he wasn’t before.
“Eddie.” Jim Hopper sighed as the tape kept rolling, watching through the smudged 9-inch thick glass as Edward Munson, aka Eddie, sat with the receiver cradled in his hand, the other placed against the recorder. “You need to tell me what happened. You’ll never get a fair retrial or a retrial if you don’t say something.”
“You know what happened.” Eddie’s dark eyes, saddled with darker bags under them from lack of sleep, rubbed at the wrist of his white shirt peeking out of his orange uniform. It’s clearly a favorite wearspot for him as it’s threadbare, buit together. “It’s pretty obvious. Why bother?”
“We still have Ms Cunningham’s side front he first trial, but we still need to know yours as you never told us.” Hopper pleaded. “Everything about thai has been a mystery for years. Your uncle is rimming my ass to get you out of here or at least a reduced sentence, Munson. The whole damn town’s against me, but Wayne’s a friend. I need to know what happened.”
For a while, it looks like Eddie’s not going to budge. It wouldn’t be the first time as when the cops brought him in after it was all over, he hadn’t said much then either. He tried telling that to Wayne as well, but the old man was a stubborn son of a bitch. Suddenly though, Hopper’s eyebrows raise as Eddie sits up in his chair from the slouched position he was originally in and sighs himself before his voice speaks. “Do you want me to start from the beginning?”
Hopper swallows. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I got turned around in some little town I'd never been to before
Working my way through a middle-of-June midnight thunderstorm
Eddie wasn’t exactly the happiest guy in the world that night. He was meant to be partying it up with concertgoers in Indianapolis after busting his ass getting concert tickets with the little money he’d earned from doing odd jobs around Hawkins. However, as was customary for the middle of June, a thunderstorm had practically swept in at the last second, leaving him no choice but to fly off the shoulder of the highway at the last 10 mile mark and turn back.
So much for having a break of small town life. If he had a better brain, he would have been out of there by now, but he can’t help that his uncle tried his best and his smarts are more street than book ones. He also, rather thankfully, can’t help having a bulit in compass back to Hawkins and while ti takes a couple hours, his doubling back is decently trafficless.
The rain however, is getting worse and he curses it, looking up from his map seated precariously on his dashboard to find the road flooded up ahead. That means another detour, this time through the town next door to Hawkins. He hadn’t been there himself, given it was a backwater piece of shit like the other, but he knows some of the other high schoolers go over to the abandoned houses there for parties and to hang out.
Doesn’t make his trip home and immeasurable disappointment fade away still.
There was something in the headlights, that stopped me on a dime
Well, she was scared to death, so I said "Climb in, " and in she climbed
Windshield wipers going, Eddie squinted as he tried to navigate the dirt roads and barely paved streets in the misty dark of the rain, headlights able to pick mostly shadows up here and there. Of course, he could still see solid objects like trees, roots and signs jumping out of the hazy darkness, it was just a bit harder right now. He wishes he could turn on the radio, but he knows he’ll only be met with static and worse, screeching because the antenna wouldn’t be in tuning range from cloud cover. Perks of being caught in a storm, fuckers.
He’s just thinking about crashing at Henderson’s for the night to wait out the rest of this damn rain (the trailer park was unforgivable when it came to rain) when he sports a figure up ahead, stumbling though the mud and puddles lining the sides of the road. It’s a short one, so it’s clearly either a girl or some really dumb guy, but there’s a sudden twist in his gut as he looks on at their swaying back. Why do they feel so familiar?
It’s not too long before to his horror, he knows why. The ribbon tying up this person’s hair, this girl’s hair his mind supplies, is like the one Chrissy has. It’s half-undone, just like the hair with it and messy with blood that it shouldn’t be, pure white stained and horrible. It follows a streak of the stuff, down the light colored locks and disappearing into her neck.
He didn’t know why, but he had to stop, he couldn’t not. The girl was injured and walking in the rain. He’s not as much of a jerk as people make him out to be. She could be lost because she’s hurt or drunk and kicked out of a party or who knows what else. He can detour his homecoming a little longer if it meant this girl was safe. That he was okay with. What he was not okay with was when he pulled up to the side of the road beside her and stopped the car, his own blood running cold as she peered in. That face. Her face. It was Chrissy Cunningham after all. Not in Hawkins. Alone.
She looked terrified and stared at Eddie with tearful eyes, clothes worn and wet, like a dog wanting to be let out of a cage. She was bloody and awful and totally not Chrissy and he could feel his heartache getting quicker and quicker by the second. Opening his door quickly, he held out a hand like it was a life preserver, throwing his fingers out at her. “Get in, quickly, before you drown.”
He watched her as she hesitated, but then she complied, tiny fingers clutching his as he hoisted herself in, shivering as Eddie fiddled with the AC to make it warmer. He wasn’t going to let Chrissy get a cold, not on top of everything else.
Well, she was bruised and broke from head to toe with a tear in her blood-stained shirt
She didn't tell the whole truth, but she didn't have to, I knew what had happened to her
He didn’t know just how he managed to look at her in those first few minutes, but somehow he did and he immediately wanted to roll down his window and throw up. She looked so fucking bad. Chrissy was messed up and he could feel rage nipping at his heels every passing second as he knows who must of done this.
Those bruises, those scratches, those marks left on Chrissy’s milky toned skin. The swelling on her face and eye. The tears in the sleeves and neck of heir green and pink blouse and her jean jacket that barely covered her broken body. He wasn’t an idiot to see that there were indents from fingernails and yellowing whirls indicative of fingerprints. He’d gotten into a few fights himself that had left those, both on others and himself. A person had done this to her. Not somebody, but someone.
It had to be Carver. No one would ever hurt Chrissy like this, except for him. They had never been a good match. Eddie had observed Carver growing up and becoming all high and mightily within Hawkins High School. It paid to be outside the loop sometimes as you’re actually always in the loop. You’re invisible and goddamn, was Eddie good at being that.
When he’d heard that Chrissy was going out with him, he almost blew a gasket. That guy was just plain no good. Every thought he suspected Carver and his stupid friends had of him, he was sure he’d had the same kind back. Chrissy was not like that, egotistical and vain and all the words he could find to talk about Carver. Chrissy was…just a girl. Just a young girl. Out of the corner of his mind that was seething with rage, he could hear Chrissy attempting to come up with an excuse. A reason to explain away the injuries. A reason for why she was in the next town over. A reason to erase everything Eddie was thinking away.
It would fall on deaf eyes though, because Jason Carver was going to pay for this.
I didn't load her down with questions, that girl had been through enough
I just threw it in drive, looked in those eyes and I asked her where he was
If there was one thing Eddie had been good at other than being invisible, it was that he was reliable. Once he promised something, he went though with it. Wayne had taught him that many years ago when he just starting his tweens after moving in in with him and he never forgot it. Right now, he was silently promising to end Jason Carver for good, despite what he knew would happen afterwards. Chrissy and him might not exactly be friends, but he is not letting some shitassed entitled fucking 17 year old boy beat a girl like that. No girl, including Chrissy, could ever do something so wrong to deserve that. No fucking way.
He wasn’t the type either to ask questions. Not only had Chrissy been though enough that evening already, but there was enough evidence right in front of him to show that questions wouldn’t justify the amount of shit Jason’s just brought upon himself in that moment. Pulling off the side of the road as he’s thinking this, he can sense that Chrissy can sense something’s up as Eddie slowly turns to her and finally speaks, his tone leaving nowhere for Chrissy to not answer him.
“Tell me where he is. No bullshitting. Tell me where he is.”
I don't know if he's an angel ‘cause angels don't do what he did
He was hellbent to find the man behind all the whiskey scars I hid
He knows he’s most likely scaring Chrissy right now more than just already is, but he’s on a mission now. His path is clear. Not even the rain is stopping him as Chrissy finally admits quietly that he’s most likely gone home. That adds another notch of red frenzy to Eddie’s already simmering rage as she’;s not only be hurt, but abandoned. Left there. If Carver wasn’t already a disgusting human being, Eddie’s just found new reasons to make him on in his personal books. Reaching over as they passed the Welcome to Hawkins sign still spray painted with the red word of “Hell” on it’s text, he handed her his leather jacket and helped her tuck it over her body.
It helped a little to cover the bruises, but Eddie’s stomach still rolled just like the truck did.
I never thought my day of justice would come from a judge under a seat
But I knew right then I'd never get hit again when he said to me:
It’s another half hour before they pull up in the Carver’s driveway. All the lights are off, save for the living room and it’s quiet. There’s no other car in the driveway, so clearly his parents are out. That just makes what he’s about to do almost to easy on him.
Unbuckling his seatbelt, Eddie reaches underneath the seat as Chrissy, who fell asleep, stirs from his under his jacket only to see him welding a 38. Handgun. They meet eyes and her mouth has dropped open, but Eddie’s eyes say everything and it closes with a click. Before he closes the truck for his final walk as a free man, he put a finger to his lips as she’s about to rise and follow him, shaking his head.
"Wait in the truck, just wait in the truck."
He still remembers the words his said and how Chrissy backed down, crumpling like a paper ball being thrown at a waste basket. Then he turned and headed for the front porch. He thinks about trying to make this go slower, give himself time to process what is about to happen, what’s about to occur and what state it will leave them both in. However, Chrissy’s image haunts his mind and steadfastly, his intentions and energy are renewed again. It ‘s happening. It’s happening and he’s not going to stop till he’s in handcuffs or dead.
Well, I knocked and knocked and no one came so I kicked in his double-wide door
I let the hammer drop before he got to that 12 he was reaching for
When he gets there, he pounds on the door with all he has, knowing Jason or whoever is in the living room can hear him as he does so, before he finally just kicks the thing in. Stalking his way though the home, it’s not too long before he finds his target, looking pathetic in a pair of boxers on the upper hallway floor. The lights are swinging as Eddie flies up the stairs, rage on full display as he gives chase to the other, who dives into his parent’s bedroom.
Eddie only reaches him when he’s just about to grab a 12 gauge from the bottom of the bed, the hammer of his gun the only sound he hears followed by the gunshot. Jason screams and Eddie watches as fresh blood dribbles from the wound inh is leg, the boy’s hands clutching it in vain as it bypasses his efforts to hold it in. At least he’s stiller than he was before so the other shots can get in.
I didn't try to hide my pistol, I didn't even try to run, I just sat on the porch
Smoking one of his cigarettes and waited for the cops to come
When it’s over, Jason’s lying in a bloody mess on the floor, no logner breathing. Riddled with holes like the bruises he left on his girlfriend's body. Eddie’s satisfied. Turning to walk away, Eddie peers in the mirror and signs, seeing blood splatter on his shrit and forehead. If he were a better man, he would have wiped it off. Safe to say he wasn’t anywhere near.
Instead, he puts the gun back into his pocket, walks back down the Carver’s stairs and sits in front of the still blaring TV, Jason’s half pack of cigarettes in his hand. Selecting one, he can see Chrissy though the foggy window as she looks at the house like it’s a historical building, clearly hoping he’s just going to walk back out and say they talked it over. Fat chance considering the amount of gunshots she’s probably heard.
He watches as the flame from his lighter dances around the end of the cigarette like a beacon, taking a long drag and letting time slip though his senses before the bright lights of the TV are drowned out by the red and blue of cop cars surrounding the place. He doesn’t know who gave them word, but he knows that they’re here now and Chrissy will be taken care of. Hopefully this shit will also made her family see sense. They’ve never treated her well either. As he’s being led out of the house and arresting on the porch, he turns to see the aforementioned girl in the arms of several police officers, smiling at her.
“Hey, Chrissy? Tell Henderson he was like, my best friend alright?”
I don't know if he's an angel ‘cause angels don't do what he did
He was hellbent to find the man behind all the whiskey scars I hid
The trial is a shitshow, as he expected it to be.
It’s like the whole town is there and if they’re not there, they’re listening to TV and radio channel coverage. People even throw things at him as he’s been dragged into the courthouse day after day, dousing him in burning vinegar water and relating him and his image to the devil incarnate. They scream and yell and condemn him, but he doesn’t care as it’s all worth to see Chrissy, recovering but alive, sitting there on his side.
She should hate him, for killing her boyfriend. He might have beaten the shit out of her, but Eddie still killed the guy she was supposed to love.
Yet, here she is, the both of them barely known to eachother, yet on the same side as everything goes to literal hell for him.
I never thought my day of justice would come from a judge under a seat
But I knew right then I'd never get hit again when he said to me:
As Hopper would imply later, Eddie says nothing. Every question they ask, every insult they throw, every fake sob coming from Jason’s mother - he’s silent. There’s no point in talking about this in his mind. There’s no words that will change that Eddie broke into a house, stalked and shot a person in revenge for hurting a friend. It had reason, a lot of reason, but would the jury care? Nah. They think he’s as screwed as he does
Chrissy however, talks and she talks a lot. He tunes out about halfway though what she’s trying to say, but is soon pulled back in when the lawyer for Jason’s parents asked her: " What did Mr. Munson say when you tried to leave the vehicle?”
"Wait in the truck, just wait in the truck."
Chrissy repeats it like it’s mantra of a poem’s she’s just memorized, clad her sweater and jeans as she just sits there, chin held high. Their eyes catch again and Eddie tries to smile to make her feel better. He knows she won’t be charged. This is all just for him and him alone.
Whoa (whoa), have mercy on me, Lord
Have mercy on me, have mercy on me (hey), Lord
When the judge’s hammer comes down and finds him guilty of manslaughter, he just hugs Wayne to death. It’s not murder, but it’s not an acquittal either. He’ll have to serve time, but he’s willing to pay that price if it means Chrissy’s safe. Looking over Wayne’s shoulder, he can see Chrissy crying and wishes he could comfort her too.
They don’t talk on their own again for a enough 3 months.
It's been 60 months and she still comes to see me from time to time
It was worth the price, to see a brighter side of the girl I picked up that night
“As you can see now-” Presently, Eddie is still talking to Hopper, receiver up to his ear and the lights flickering around him. “-it’s been almost 5 years since then. I still see Chrissy, from time to time. She comes in every so often to check on me.” Eddie’s eyes look a thousand miles away. "Her and her new husband are about to have a baby, you know? They deserve it. She deserves to be happy, a nice family I’m never gonna get that, but you know, I can’t help that.”
“Your uncle’s hell bound and determined that you get that chance.” Hopper responds and all Eddie can do is laugh in his face as he says it. “Dustin as well. They both think you have a shot at getting out, in starting over, forgetting all of this.”
Eddie shakes his head. “Why would I want to forget shooting that abusive piece of shit?”
And I might be here forever, it ain't paradise, that's true
But it's whole hell of a lot better than the place I sent him to, yeah
“Look Hopper, the point is, I shot Carver. Outright killed him.” Eddie admits freely, watching as Hopper’s expression changes here and there. “The guy deserved it after what she went though. He deserved to go to hell and while Hawkins is close, especially in the recent years, leaving him here would have been merciful and he would have hurt other girls, I’m sure.”
“What about you, Eddie?” Hopper questions, unable to help himself. “Surely /you/ think you’re in hell as well, being locked in here when you have a cause for self-defense.”
Eddie snorts, surprising Hopper yet again. “This jail, my cell, it ain’t paradise. It’s not meant to be, but I still stand by my statement that Jason Carver is where he belongs now, period. As for Dust…ugh…” Eddie’s eyes close. “I don’t know why he’s even sticking around. He should be balls deep in college right now, living it up. Instead he’s working at Family Video and coming to see me for lunch like every week.”
Wait in the truck (have mercy on me), just wait in the truck
(Have mercy, have mercy, have mercy on me)
Hopper can think of several things Dustin Henderson would like to be “ball deep” in as Eddie puts it, not mentioned but including the man in front of him. It was no secret to everyone that Dustin had stayed because he wanted to be there when Eddie got out. So instead of up and leaving like others did when graduating, Dustin stayed behind.
The loyalty that kid had for Eddie was something else. He ate lunch with him over the phone, he took ownership of the truck that Eddie had been driving, he visited Wayne every Sunday and sometimes every Tuesday if he could get off work early. It couldn’t be just friendship. No one talked about it however. Henderson didn’t need that kind of pressure on him. Neither did Eddie. He was dealing with a whole lot more right now.
Wait in the truck (Lord, have mercy), just wait in the truck
Have mercy on me, Lord, have mercy on me
He had hoped Eddie would say more, talk to him more, before their time was up. Prison was hard. Of course, Hawkins’s courthouse wasn’t like that labor camp in Russia he’d been trapped in for months before Joyce released him and he married her literally as soon as they got back, but it still had an effect on people. He still had PTSD episodes and other shit that had come along with his kidnapping, that’s a given. Eleven or really, Jane, his daughter does as well, her and Joyce the other things keeping him tethered.
He can’t imagine how Eddie feels however.
(Have mercy, have mercy, have mercy on me) have mercy on me, Lord
Have mercy on me (Have mercy, have mercy, have mercy on me)
All too soon, the guards call time and Hopper cuts the tape, nodding at him though the glass as the hangs up. Eddie, stiff as a washboard, but accepting of the gesture, nods back with a wry smile as he’s handcuffed again and led away. Hopper watches as his head and then, his legs and back, disappear into the dark gaping hole of the hallway leading back out to the cell blocks, shaking his head. How a man can just accept a horrible fate like that is beyond him. The kid really is a good one, like Wayne said.
Shuffling his belongings together, Hopper makes a note to call Wayne from his office when he returns, as well as put a rush on getting Eddie’s statement transcribed onto paper using the office type writer. Knowing the town and how distrustful it still is thanks to the attention surrounding the case all those years ago, he’ll have to loiter over whoever gets the job of doing that so they don’t put something fake in.
It’ll take his overtime, as even Chief of Police is still an employment position despite him being in charge, but at least the truth of what happened that evening when Jason Carver was found dead in his house will be out there on public record for people to make their judgement on. It might not be yet, but a reporter from around here will find out, he knows that.
Maybe he might even give the story to Nancy Wheeler if he’s up to doing it. She would make Eddie sound human and not a demonized husk. The can of worms that’ll open he’ll have to have a long think about later.
Wait in the truck, just wait in the truck
(Have mercy, have mercy, have mercy on me) Wait in the truck
Till then, he sits at his desk, the rain falling against his office window pane almost like how Eddie had described it on that night. He doesn’t know why, but he closes his eyes and clasps his hands in prayer as the lights blinked and the rain pounded on. He doesn’t know why he’s praying exactly, as God can’t help Eddie like the legal system can, but Wayne’s admitted to doing the same. He’s also found Dustin walking the backroads on nights when he can’t sleep along with El when she decides to go missing on them, looking at the sky here and there talking to God, though he never admits that’s who he’s trying to call.
He doesn’t bother asking El, as he knows she’d never tell and just sighs before he loads them up and takes them both home in the early hours of the morning light.
Just wait in the truck (please have mercy)
It doesn’t take long for the silent prayer to finish and when Hopper sits up, his head’s a little dizzy, but he’s guessing that is the tiredness of working all day sinking in. What he wouldn’t give to go home to and sink into bed with Joyce right now. However, he’s still got a lot of work to do and the first order of business starts with a phone call. An Important one. It might be almost 8:00 PM at night, but it’ll be fine. He punches the number in and it dials, before it connects and someone picks up. Like pieces of a puzzle, now finally slotting in place.
"Hey, Munson. How’s things? Listen, I need to talk to you about Eddie-”