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Steve first meets Eddie when he’s stumble-down drunk (possibly high) in his backyard.
Shouting. Steve moaning, clasping his covers up to his chin. Sometimes his stupid friends break into the Harrington yard to skinny dip in the pool. He thinks, sure, he’ll give the idiots a scare. Pads out in his flannels, a scream mask, and a flashlight. Turns the flashlight accusingly into the boy’s face.
Eddie stares into the light without squinting or shielding his eyes. He stares into the light like he needs it. Staggers, pointing to the sky, “I fell.”
Steve scrapes off the mask, because it’s having absolutely no impact. Loops his arms around the kid, maybe he’s seen him in class? “When you’re trying to get with a girl, you say, ‘did it hurt when you fell?’ Then she says ‘huh.’” He’s herding the fluffy-haired guy towards the gate. “And you say, ‘from heaven, because you look like an angel.’”
Eddie curls one hand around the iron, won’t let go. Stretches like a cat when Steve tries to move him. “But angels are scary?”
“Huh?” Steve’s a little cold, there’s frost on the ground, and he’s in a matching Christmas-pyjama set. The wind cuts through it, he shivers.
“Be not afraid. A thousand eyes, wings for feet, quadrupedal freaks.”
“Um, ok.” What did he smoke?
“But Stars grant wishes.” Eddie looks at him with wide, brown eyes. Expressive mouth, frowns. “Wish?” Holds out a palm like Steve’s going to give him something.
“Get out of my backyard?”
———————————————————————
Eddie’s at Family Video. Wearing two denim jackets on top of each other. He smells like sunscreen (minerals and coconut), wearing neon plastic glasses with the lenses popped out. Leans his elbows on the counter, cradles his chin. “Been giving me nothing.” Bats his eyelashes. “I could work with a little more, Steve-o.”
It’s been two years since Harrington pulled the weird kid out of yard. He walks around the counter, looks for something to sort. Lands on putting a shelf in reverse-alphabetical order.
Munson bounces to the other side of the shelf. “Wish?”
“Uh, rent a video?”
Rolls his eyes. “Ok, dude. On the counter.”
Steve returns skeptically to the cash; Eddie hasn’t picked anything, he’s sure. It’s a Wonderful Life propped, balancing upright on the checkout. He holds it. “There’s no sticker.” Turns it around again, sees the yellow discount label, large and unmistakable. Punches the code reluctantly.
He makes small-talk out of habit. “Every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings.”
“You’re obsessed with angels.”
Harrington scowls. “It’s in the movie.”
Munson dings the bell on the counter.
“I’m right here.”
Popping the bell, a series of rings. “Handing out wings. Giving ‘em out like candy.” Pulls an unwrapped lollypop from a pocket. Steve wonders if it’s lint-y. “So, got any real wishes?”
“Leave?”
Playing with the lollypop in his cheek, “You don’t want your dad to be home more?”
“Nope. Maybe, uh, get the fuck out?”
———————————————————————
Steve’s feet dangling over the edge of the bridge. Eddie crawls to sit beside him. “Whew, this is precarious. So high up.”
Harrington isn’t surprised anymore when he shows up.
“Don’t wish you were never born,” Munson says, as if they’re mid-conversation; bumping his shoulder. “Then I have to show you Dustin’s sad mom, and Will’s real bad, because Mike’s not around. Lucas isn’t doing so hot. Then, of course, neither is Max. The whole town needs you, in some way. This shit ripples out like dominos. And not like the pizza. The game of dominos. God, took me a while to learn the difference. I thought people were trying to stand pizzas upright, and I was confused for like years.”
“What are you?” Steve asks, looking at the water, maybe one, two stories below? It’s hard to see, black, just tips of white froth in the night.
Eddie stands, his palm in Steve’s face. “Wish?”
Harrington exhales, shaky. “I kind of want,” he trails.
“Anything.”
“I can’t think of anything good.”
“Doesn’t have to be good. In fact, rather it isn’t.”
“Uh, what do you want?” He tips his chin up at Eddie. The man’s wearing a fishnet shirt and ropes of silver jewelry. Sheer for the cold, but he seems comfortable.
“Me!” Ed smooshes his face. “Me?”
“Yeah, you, dingus.”
He considers. “A date.” Shoots finger-guns at Steve. “Best place you’ve taken someone.”
“Six Flags?”
———————————————————————
They’re standing in front of a roller coaster. It’s midnight, holding wands of cotton candy. Eddie is decked in park-paraphernalia, strands of plastic beads, and an oversized tshirt.
“I’m planning to scream on all the rides, and say ‘that was so scary, let’s do it again’ after everything.”
“Where did you fall from?” Steve asks, squinting.
“Oh, Harrington,” Munson’s already wandering up the vacant line, crisscrossing back and forth around the ropes. Steve ducks under the barriers to cut him off. They’re suddenly nose to nose, one of Steve’s hands frozen on the chain.
“Heaven,” Eddie finishes. His eyes are flicking from Steve’s to his lips, back up to his eyes. “But, it sucked.”
“Heaven sucks?” Steve murmurs. He’s fumbling, fingers sweating on the icy metal. “But, uh, did it hurt, when you fell?”
Laughing breathily. “Good save.” Thumb on Steve’s chin. “Yeah, it hurt. I’d do it again, though. Wish?”
Steve wonders if he knows what he’s going to ask. “What do you want?”
Eddie smiles, wolfish, looking nothing like an angel.