Ordinary stuff, Eli realized, came with sharp sides.
It wasn't some smooth surface you just walked on and chilled. Instead, it made you move slow, feeling spots that stayed firm or suddenly sank without telling.
Monday dawned dull and chilly, one of those days that shrunk Hawkins even more. A muffled voice came from the radio in the kitchen as Marcy shuffled back and forth near the stove, burnt toast mixing with watery coffee steam.
Eli slouched by the table, bag dumped near his shoes, fiddling with his hoodie's drawstring on autopilot.
"Eggs?" Marcy asked.
"Sure," he said, then paused. "If it's not a problem."
She glanced over, not annoyed - just observant. "It's never a problem to eat breakfast."
Eli gave a nod, letting it sink in. Stuff like this? Still hard to get used to.
The radio hissed out a fresh report on the hunt. Folks helping. Canines sniffing. Trees everywhere. Same stuff shuffled into new lines.
Marcy dialed things back a bit.
"You don't have to listen to that before school," she said gently.
"I'm fine with it," Eli said - really meant it. The sound kept him steady, somehow. Gave a way to gauge how far fear was from staying sharp.
Out here, the chill nipped his hands when he hit the porch step. Pulling up his zipper, he paused - only briefly - to soak in the stillness. Down the street, a vehicle door cracked shut. Then came a yap from a mutt. Things kept moving, shaky yet whole.
It wasn't perfect - had rough spots - but it was real.
⸻
School was louder.
Not messy - just packed. Lockers banged shut. Feet hissed on floors. Talking came in waves, rising quick then dropping like noise between channels. Eli slipped through quiet-like, same as usual - chin out, arms easy, glance sharp but calm.
Mike motioned him toward the lockers.
"You hear anything new?" he asked.
"Same stuff," Eli said. "Nothing confirmed."
Dustin frowned. "They're still not checking the old drainage culvert."
"They will," Lucas said. "Eventually."
These days, I've been swamped - so much going on at once. Lately, things piled up real quick, keeping me busy most hours.
They headed to class side by side, talk shifting from homework gripes to a loose debate on if The Thing stood a chance against Alien. Eli stayed back, speaking up just when it fit.
This was the coolness he wanted but didn't know. However, it showed up anyway.
No sirens. Nothing prickling under his skin like a bad signal. Only young ones messing around as if trouble wasn't crouched just out of sight.
In history, Eli grinned at a dumb thing Dustin mumbled - didn't expect that. It hit him sideways, not from the joke, yet how natural it felt.
⸻
Later on, instead of going home, they wandered off toward the trees.
Mike picked the arcade this time - yet Eli braced for that usual pull inside him, like pausing training even briefly felt wrong.
It didn't come.
The arcade reeked of old dust mixed with hot electronics. Flashing screens buzzed, chomping down coins like they couldn't get enough. Right away, Dustin dared Lucas to a round of Dig Dug instead. Mike drifted from machine to machine, fidgety yet pretending he wasn't.
Eli stayed quiet at the start - not far off, just hanging near the edge, letting sounds and flashes move around him.
"Yo," Dustin called, not looking away from the screen. "You gonna play or just judge us silently?"
Eli snorted. "I don't judge silently."
He put a coin into Galaga, then his hands moved on their own. Not great, yet solid - never rushed. Kept going past what anyone guessed, so Mike glanced over, caught off guard.
"Didn't know you were good at this."
"I'm not," Eli said. "I just don't panic when it speeds up."
That got a chuckle.
Twenty minutes passed while everything shrank to screens, noise, or tiny wins that meant nothing. Something inside Eli's chest relaxed - didn't vanish, only softened.
Once they got out again, the chill hit harder - like the warmth had made it worse.
"We'll look once more tomorrow," Mike said - not asking, just saying it like it was set.
Eli nodded. "Yeah."
The form stayed regular, yet bent without snapping.
⸻
That evening's practice ended earlier.
Hopper was worn out - Eli noticed it right away, just from how he held himself, how his focus slipped a beat behind. So they kept things simple. Drills on moving the feet. Staying at the right range. Keeping steady on their stance.
"Take it slow," Hopper said when Eli jumped back up right after the exercise. "No need to hurry."
Eli brushed the sweat off his forehead. "Seems that way."
"Yeah," Hopper replied. "That's how you get sloppy."
They eased up. Around went Hopper - then suddenly veered off. Eli shifted, kinda clumsy, yet stayed on his feet.
"That," Hopper muttered, giving Eli's shoulder a light tap, yet clearly pleased - "much smoother just now
They ended things by stretching - nothing more. Not a single round on the pads. Zero intensity.
While Eli gathered his stuff, Hopper kept quiet, just looking.
"You're holding a lot," Hopper said.
Eli didn't move - on the outside, no - but just enough that you'd see it.
"I get it," he replied, a short while later.
"Just don't forget to put some of it down when you can," Hopper added. "You don't get extra points for carrying it all."
Eli gave a quick nod. Still, he wasn't sure what else to say.
The system didn't say a thing.
Yet a part of what Hopper said lingered - not like an order, more like approval.
⸻
The forest pulled them in again the following day.
Not actually. There's no noise. Nothing tugging.
Just unfinished business.
This time they took another route - near the road at first, yet quickly surrounded by woods. It felt chillier here, with soggy earth left behind by overnight frost.
Eli stayed close to the center of the crowd, neither out front nor falling behind. While moving, he kept his eyes open - looking for anything off or out of place. Rather than making a show, he observed quietly, tuned into odd shifts around him. His focus was steady but subtle, catching details most would miss.
Thirty minutes later, Dustin just quit. Yet he stood still.
"Do you hear that?"
Everyone froze in place.
Eli stayed quiet. The breeze moved the leaves. In the distance, cars rolled by. Then another sound - soft, steady.
Water.
"There's a runoff ditch nearby," Eli said. "Probably that."
Lucas scowled. "Really?"
"No," Eli replied. "But it's consistent. Same sound, same interval."
They moved nearer regardless, more cautious now. As the trench appeared - barely deep, partly icy - the nerves faded.
Dustin exhaled loudly. "Man, I hate when everything sounds suspicious now."
"It won't stay this way forever," Mike told her, but he sounded unsure. Yet even as he spoke, doubt crept through. Still, a faint hope lingered underneath.
Eli squatted by the rim, eyes on the ripple. A notion flickered - no panic, no flashback. Simply balance. Like spotting truth bare, no proof needed.
He stood.
"We should head back," he said. "It's getting late."
Mike paused a moment before giving a small nod. "Yep."
No doubt about it. Instead of stress, calm acceptance. Not conflict - just nodding along.
⸻
That night, Eli pictured himself sprinting - not fleeing, just moving with whatever was there. Trees zipped by, sorta known yet off somehow. He snapped awake before it played out, pulse calm, thoughts sharp.
He stayed put awhile, just looking up at the ceiling.
Normal had edges.
So did strength.
He still lacked strength - the kind that really counts. Yet he kept going. Figuring out when to take a step, when to stop, when to press forward or just wait it out.
When the timeline finally snapped—and it would—he wouldn't meet it unprepared.