'til death do us part

Ch. 8 - Bringing the band back together

Richie's nightmares had some new elements to them that night. He was no longer alone when he sloshed through the filthy water of the sewer. He couldn't see faces, he just felt their presence. One of them was Eddie, he was sure of it, a faceless ball of nerves that never strayed far from him. Or maybe he was the one that kept circling back to his side. No words were spoken and his companions were no more than shadows and movements in the dark. Despite that, Richie wasn't afraid. He wasn't alone. He was with his friends.

Until he suddenly found himself inside the dark room with all the clown dolls. He was alone then.

Richie sat on his sofa in the dark living room. The large windows faced East and although the sun hadn't poked its head above the horizon yet, he could tell by the way the darkness of the sky slowly receded it was closer to morning than midnight.

His phone was in his hand, the device weighing heavy in his hand. He'd replayed Eddie's voicemails. First one time, then a second to be sure and after a few minutes of staring into nothing he played the voicemails a third time.

Calling Eddie wasn't a conscious decision. The phone was just ringing and then there was his voice, close to his ear.

"Eddie Kaspbrak speaking."

"I know you." The early hour, his lack of sleep and, quite frankly, two whiskeys, gave his voice a hoarse quality. He almost didn't recognise it himself. But Eddie did.

"Richie?" Eddie didn't sound like the call woke him up. More so, the faint background noise made it sound like he was in the car. Probably on his way to work. "Richie, is that you?"

Richie made a non-committal noise and slouched back against the seat cushions. "I know you," he repeated, a little softer this time.

"Yeah, yeah you do," Eddie answered quietly. Then Richie heard him gasp and the sound of a car horn followed. "Motherfucker!" Eddie exclaimed, clearly not directed at the phone. "Wait, I gotta... Let me find a spot to pull over." He heard the rev of the engine and the ticking sound of the blinker a little later.

Of course Eddie had a case of road rage. Richie wasn't even surprised by it. He knew Eddie, even though he knew absolutely nothing about him. Here on the other end of the line was this man that filled his voicemail with angry rants, having called him out of the blue. And somehow Richie was absolutely positive that this Eddie wasn't some crazed fan or a random nutcase.

The background noise of the engine cut off and there were some fumbling noises before Eddies voice came through the speaker again. Richie imagined he took his phone from the holder on his dashboard and put it to his ear.
"There, I pulled over so we can talk without me being cut off by idiots who don't know how to use their turn signal." Eddie sounded a little agitated and that didn't really change when he directed his words at Richie. "Isn't it like, 5 AM over there? What are you doing up?"

Richie glanced at the clock at the wall behind him. "It's 4:50, actually. Whatever. Why are you up?"

"I'm on my way to work," Eddie deadpanned. Why could Richie imagine his face when he said that? He had no idea what this Eddie Kaspbrak looked like. Yeah you do. He couldn't picture it, but somehow he knew?
"I'm gonna be late," his friend muttered. Because that was what he was, wasn't he? Eddie was his friend. "But that's okay," Eddie interrupted as if Richie would protest and hang up to make sure his friend got in time to work. "I'm glad you called. We... we need to talk."

"I'm not changing my voicemail message."

And that's how Richie had the most comfortable and fun conversation he'd had in a long time, with a stranger.
Well, not a total stranger. Because they really did know each other, they both grew up in Derry, Maine. Couldn't have been the most eventful place, because they barely had any memories about the place. They tried digging them up a little, but didn't really get far. There were more of them, though, just like in Richie's dream. Eddie named Mike, who had apparently given him Richie's phone number. Richie thought of a gentle farm boy when he heard the name and he wasn't surprised when the odd feeling of longing got a little sharper when he remembered it wasn't just Eddie. They couldn't name the others, but Eddie said that Mike probably could.

"We should have a reunion!" Richie exclaimed, now hanging upside down on his sofa with the phone pressed to his ear. If he was a teenage girl in the nineties he would have curled the phone cord around his fingers. "Get the gang back together! Losers unite!"

Where did that name come from? Richie didn't bother with thinking about it. Talking to Eddie brought up all kinds of words and feelings, stuff that was apparently all connected to his youth in Derry. It was like holding a Christmas tree upside down and shaking it to see what would come loose. Swimming in the quarry, a hidden club house, riding his bike with Eddie on the handlebars. It was all disconnected images and shreds of sentences, nothing to connect it all. But that didn't matter, because those small fragments of long forgotten memories all lodged together to form some warm, fuzzy ball in Richie's chest.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea." Eddie sounded hesitant, for the first time since the start of their conversation.

"Come on, Eds! It'll be fun!" Richie swung his legs to the side so he could sit up again. Blood slowly drained back from his head and settled in its designated place. "We can get together in Derry, bring up some more memories."

"Don't call me Eds," Eddie snapped angrily, but it didn't sound very convincing. There was a deep breath on the other end of the line. "We did forget a lot, didn't we?" Richie imagined Eddie leaning against his car window, looking a little wistful. Then he started to sound like he wanted to back out and Richie wasn't having that.

"This is what we are gonna do. You are gonna give me Mike's phone number and then me and Mike are gonna round up the rest of the gang. The man used to work on a farm, I'm sure he can herd some people together."

Eddie was a little hard to convince, but Richie managed to do it in the end. He was buzzing with excitement, eager to meet a bunch of strangers that used to be his childhood friends. Not the most common thing to be looking forward to, but Richie couldn't help it. This was something he wanted to do. As soon as possible, if he had any say in it.

He was still all psyched up when Eddie suddenly cut through his happy rant. "Fuck. I am late for work. I... I should go, Rich."

"I'm pretty sure you are never late for work, buddy, so they can suck it up for once."

Eddie didn't agree with that, of course. "And we still haven't talked about... There is something..."

Richie waved it off. "It can wait, Eds."

"Don't call me -"

"You get your ass back on the road and me and Mike are gonna get the band back together. You'll be able to tell me everything you want to tell me face to face." He grinned at the empty space of his living room. "See you soon, Eddie Spaghetti!"

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