Happenstance ⌱ Jim Hopper

[ 1 ] POLICE ON MY BACK

[ if you don't listen to the music,
you are missing out ]

[ 1 ]

"ALL RIGHT. Who ordered a Gorilla Warfare? And, I've also nicked... three Enticers, a Grenade Launcher, and — ooh, Lucas, lookie here," Jodie Whittier teased as the boys fidgeted happily in front of the small woman. Jodie dug through her weathered, grey sports bag, producing more fireworks for them. "An Excalibur — thought I couldn't follow through, huh?"

     Lucas's face lit up as he eagerly reached out for the explosive. "Holy shit!" Beaming, he ran his hand across the brightly coloured cardboard box before meeting Jodie's brown gaze. "Where'd you get all this stuff anyway, Jodie? The Fourth was months ago."

     "I have my ways, boys." Jodie tossed Will a pack of Cherry Bombs. Dustin fumbled with the sparklers that she threw his way, and the other one — Mike Wheeler — received the rest of the bag's contents. "I bought a big bag of fireworks in Pennsylvania. They have a few year-round stalls . . . if you know where to look."

     The cold, Autumn wind picked up as the four boys gushed over the haul, showing each other their dynamite and plotting the most bitchin' explosions. With a chuckle, Jodie slid a pack of Camels from her sweater pocket and flicked the lighter for a deep drag, listening to the boys chatter in excitement. Once it was successfully lit, Jodie tossed her silver lighter to Will Byers. He caught it with a doe-eyed smile and an unsure presence.

               "Go on, let's see some fireworks."

     Nicotine ached in Jodie Whittier's lungs, but it was a satisfying sort of pain. It chilled her and ignited her bones, all at once. Exhaling a cloud, Jodie propped her small frame against a low hanging tree. She was a short young woman with blonde hair cut to her slim shoulders. The haircut helped shape the round features of the woman's face, framing the youthful structure to make herself look older than she really was. For a girl in her early twenties, Jodie Whittier had grown up early, rode hard, and raised more than enough Hell to almost ban her from Hawkins, Indiana, the small town she had grown up in. There was an age-hardened sadness in her brown eyes, set deep in her face, that replaced the once glowing spirit of the Whittier. They told a tale of a girl who had seen more than she should have, at much too young of an age.

     Jodie pressed the cigarette to her supple, small lips once more, watching the boys with a hint of a smile. Memories faded in and out of her mind, like wisps of cigarette smoke.

      They were a hell of a lot different than how Jodie was at their age. But, something about their oddball ways sparked a sense of familiarity. Jodie listened as the sparks crackled and burst across the muddy, grey sky. Though it was not night, the weather was still fine enough to see the light show.