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.
• • •
Becky, Terry Ives' sister, smokes in the kitchen as Hopper, Joyce, and Ronda sit with her. Becky puffs out some smoke. "She was a part of some study in college."
"MKUltra?" suggests Hopper.
Becky nods, flicking the end of her cigarette into the ashtray. She holds open the back. "Yeah, that's the one." Ronda takes an offered cigarette and lights the end of it, watching it burn for a few moments.
"Was, uh, started in the '50s. By the time Terry got involved, it was supposed to be ramping down, but the drugs just got crazier. Messed her up good."
"This was the CIA that ran this?" asks Hopper skeptically. Ronda watches as the smoke from her cigarette mingles in with Becky's.
Becky smiles. "You and Terry would've gotten along. The Man, with a big capital M." Becky exhales again. "They'd pay you know, a couple hundred bucks to people like my sister, give 'em drugs, psychedelics. LSD, mostly. And then they'd strip her naked and put her in these isolation tanks."
"Isolation tanks?" questions Joyce.
"Yeah. These big bathtubs, basically, filled with salt water, so you can float around in there. You lose any sense of, uh sense and feel nothing, see nothing. They wanted to expand the boundaries of the mind. Real hippie crap." Becky glances over at her sister. "I—I mean, it's not like they were forcing her to do any of this stuff. The thing is, though, is that she didn't know she was pregnant at the time."
"Jane," answers Joyce.
Becky sighs, dumping ash into the glass tray. She nods.
"Do you have any pictures of her?"
Becky stares between the three of them. "I don't think you guys understand. Terry miscarried in the third trimester." Hopper and Joyce stare at each other. Becky rises to her feet, waving them to follow after her. Ronda takes another long drag of her cigarette.
"She keeps all of this up. Been doing it for twelve years." Becky shows them Jane's nursery. Becky sits down in the arm chair. "Terry, uh, pretends like Jane is real like she's gonna come home someday."
Hopper spins the mobile hanging above the crib. The lullaby plays from mobile. Becky waves her hand. "Says she's special. Born with abilities."
"Abilities?" repeats Ronda, eyes widening.
"You read any Stephen King?" Becky chuckles at their nervous looks. "You guys look scared, actually. I mean, it's all make-believe."
Ronda takes another long drag from her cigarette, her fingers shaking. She doesn't let the ash fall off.
Joyce clears her throat. "What—what kind of abilities?"
Becky stares at the ceiling. She knows all these things by heart now, after what Terry has tried to tell her so many times. "Telepathy, telekinesis." Becky waves her fingers at her head. "You know, shit you can do with your mind. That's why the big, bad Man stole Jane away. Her baby's a weapon, off fighting the commies. You know, the doctors all say it's a coping mechanism. You know, to deal with the guilt."
