THE TOWER ━ stranger things

03.

chapter three — the straw that broke the camels back and the reconciliation

MAY 15, 1985

Mateo Vasquez hated being new, purely because he despised the aspect of towns where people were well acquainted with one another and harped on foreigners at the drop of a pin. Hawkins was no exception to the long list of towns they relocated to that reeked of judgment.

He was figuring that out now as his body collided roughly against the brick wall of the bookstore he was just in. Apparently, he was talking to some guy's girlfriend for far too long – she asked if Homer's The Odyssey was a good read and he obviously had to give her his entire breakdown. Had he known he'd be doubled over and getting the shit knocked out of him as the guy and his friend spat out racist remarks, he would have just told her to find out herself. 

He was hoisted off the ground and pushed into the wall again; he spat the blood that pooled in his mouth on the ground near his perpetrators feet.

Dirtied nails dug into his face as it was held tightly while the guy stared back at him, "Listen here freak, if I ever catch you looking at my girl again I'll fucking break your face." His words were laced with venom and repressed anger as he clutched onto Mateo's shirt, his girlfriend whimpered behind them. However, she knew not to get involved in her boyfriend's affairs. 

Mateo gave him a menacing smile before he spat, "Comer mierda." A fist quickly collided with the left side of his jaw, more blood splattered to the pavement, before two more blows rammed into his ribs. He was on the floor again as polished sneakers dug into his shins and forearms, he curled into a ball and shielded his head the best he could. There was an ache that was starting to form all over and his body was barely holding on to the spurt of adrenaline that coursed through him. 

Across the street tucked away in Melvald's General Store, Joyce Byers frantically rushed to the cellphone hoisted on the wall across from her. She exchanged a few words with the Chief of Police before he reassured her that someone would be on the way. Her heartbeat quickened as she watched the scene unfold, she knew there was no time to wait as she grabbed the nearest object to protect herself and swung the door open. It dinged as she moved through it, holding up the can of cleaning spray she made her voice heard from across the street.

"Hey! Stop that!" She yelled to the group of boys, two out of the three of them looked back at her with panicked eyes, "The police are on their way!" She screamed, the veins in her neck becoming prominent. What seemed to be their "leader" looked up finally, halting from kicking the man on the ground any further, and walked around him to stand closer to the curb.

"This ain't any of your business lady! Dirty spics like him deserve to be put in their place." He yelled back to her, little did he know that guy on the ground was now standing behind him. 

Mateo's body throbbed in pain but he squared his hands and stood in the stance he practiced everyday after school. The oldest Vasquez wasn't the toughest person in the world, nor did he pick any fights, but after the first time he and his sister got their asses kicked he learned how to defend himself and her. He wasn't some rough and tough fighter who intimidated people, but he had a mean arm. After ten years of baseball and being a star pitcher it'd be surprising if he didn't.

The boy turned, dumbfounded, before Mateo's fist cracked him square in the nose, "¿Qué le parece eso, hijo de puta?" His voice shook but he stood tall, taking a step back from the guy who was now holding his bleeding nose. His gaze turned toward the guy's two other friends and before he could think he readied his hands again, holding them in front of his face.