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Stranger Things: A Ghost Story

Chapter 2: The Night Shift

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Chapter One

The Night Shift

October 1, 1985

Steve Harrington sat in a booth at the Hawkins Diner. The faded, blue vinyl was slightly sticky. Everything in there was slightly sticky, but they served the best food, if you were into grease, that is. Since the Starcourt Mall had burned to the ground, downtown was seeing a revival, and most of the booths were occupied.

Steve checked his watch and looked at the door expectantly. Where were they? He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. The collar of his new shirt tugged at his neck, and he did his best to adjust it. The uniform was stiff. This was the first time he’d worn it, and he couldn’t say it was comfortable. At least it didn’t look like a sailor suit, though. Best of all, no stupid hat to block his best feature, his head of thick, brown hair. Not that he’d be able to attract many girls as night watchman at an old house museum, but it was a step up from shoveling out ice cream at the mall. It was also a step up from slinging videos at the local video store. “Stupid, Keith,” he murmured.

The waitress walked by again, giving him the eye. “They’ll be here,” he assured her.

“Uh huh.”

“They’re not standing me up,” he insisted. Steve Harrington did not get stood up. At least, the old Steve Harrington never got stood up. He wasn’t sure about the new Steve, whoever he was.

“You want a kid’s mat to pass the time,” the waitress remarked.

“No,” he scoffed, then reconsidered. “Maybe.”

At that moment, the door to the diner dinged and in walked Robin. She looked a little flustered, hefting a heavy backpack behind her. “See.” Steve pointed to the girl as she collapsed into the seat across from him.

“Uh huh,” the waitress drawled again. “I’ll 86 the kid’s mat, bring you some menus.”

“Kid’s mat?” Robin asked, struggling to get her backpack off her shoulder.

“Never mind her. Where have you been?”

“Sorry, class ran over.” Robin finally won the struggle with her backpack and shook it off. “Oh, finally, that thing weighs a ton.” She looked around the restaurant. “Where’s Dustin?”

Steve tossed his hands in the air. “Not here.”

The waitress brought over two menus and dropped them unceremoniously on the table. “We need a third one,” Steve spoke up.

The waitress eyed him. “Uh huh.” She didn’t move.

“We need a third one,” he reiterated.

She finally left to get the other menu. “What’d you do to her?” Robin asked.

“Why is this my fault?” Steve asked incredulously. It seemed like everything was always his fault.

The door dinged again and in blitzed Dustin in all his curly haired glory. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. I got caught up in homework at the library.” He flopped down in the booth beside Robin and struggled with his own backpack. Robin moved to help him out.

The waitress returned with the third menu and dropped it on top of the others. Steve pointed to Dustin. “See.”

“Are there anymore?” she asked, unimpressed.

“Nope, we’re all here.”

“Uh huh.” The waitress turned and walked off.

“Geez, Steve, what’d you do to her?” Dustin asked.

“I didn’t do anything!” Steve almost felt like pulling his hair out, almost. “You all were late.”

“Class,” Robin repeated.

“Homework,” Dustin added.

“The world doesn’t revolve around Steve Harrington,” Robin joked.

Steve knew this all too well, but he decided not to take the bait. This evening was about other things. “Never mind.” He waved the past away with his hand. He ceremoniously cleared his throat and stood, making sure his whole uniform was in view.

“Steve Harrington in uniform,” Robin crooned.

“Looking good,” Dustin added. They both applauded appreciatively as Steve did a little turn.

The waitress walked over with a tray of waters and a stern look. Steve plopped back down in the booth. She set the waters down forcefully in front of all of them. Robin opened her mouth, about to order, but the waitress walked off. The three of them looked at each other and laughed. Steve took a breath and realized how much he’d missed this, the three of them just hanging out.

Robin unwrapped her straw and stuck it in her drink. “You know, you wouldn’t have to wear a uniform if you’d stayed at the video store.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “With Keith, ugh, no thank you.”

“He’s bearable now that’s he got a girlfriend.”

“A girlfriend I helped him get, thank you very much,” Steve protested.

“Aw, is little Stevie jealous?” Robin reached over to pat his cheek and he jerked away. He tried not to smile, but he couldn’t help it.

“Yes, I am jealous. Keith has a girlfriend. Dustin has a girlfriend. You have a girlfriend.”

“Shh.” Robin tossed her straw wrapper at him.

“Don’t listen to her. I think the uniform is nice, very professional.”

“Thank you, Dustin. I look forward to my new career.”

“Do you get a gun?” Dustin leaned across the table, excited to hear the answer.

“I’m a guard, right?” Steve waggled his eyebrows.

Robin scoffed. “God, you’re going to shoot yourself.”

“Hey.” Steve was offended now. “I know how to handle a weapon.”

“Yeah, Steve is great with a bat,” Dustin defended.

“A bat with nails in it,” Steve added.

“Not a gun.” Robin pointed out. “You better take a class or something.”

“I’m sure they’ll train him. Right?”

“Yes, my training starts tonight.” Steve leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest in finality. The shirt was stiff, and it took him a second longer than he would have liked to achieve his pose. Robin smirked.

“You’ve got like an adult job.” Dustin sounded amazed.

“Yes,” Steve agreed. Wait, had that been a compliment?

“Uniform, a gun.” The boy took a moment to marvel in the change in his older friend. “Too bad you’re not guarding something cool, like a bank, or a jewelry store.”

Steve straightened up. “My job is cool.”

“You’re guarding Mooregrove Manor. It’s a really old house,” Robin countered.

“Full of antiques.”

“Full of old people,” Dustin added with emphasis. “Seriously, the only people who go there are super old, like my grandma.”

“Or kids forced to go there on a field trip.”

“Ugh, fourth grade.” Dustin shivered at the memory.

“You’d think the founding family of modern Hawkins would have been more interesting.” Robin looked around, trying to find their waitress. “I’m hungry.”

Steve chewed on his bottom lip for a moment and then leaned in. “A murder took place there, you know?”

“Maybe a murder,” Robin amended.

“Could have been a suicide,” Dustin mused.

“No one really knows what happened to Lillian,” Robin concluded.

“Who’s Lillian?”

Robin stared at Steve. “Do you know nothing about your place of employment? Lillian Mooregrove, their daughter, the Mooregrove’s only biological heir. She was super sick, so people rarely saw her, like ever, and then she turns up dead in the middle of their house.”

“Fell through a glass ceiling on the roof.” Dustin demonstrated the fall with his hand, smacking the table.

“What was she doing up there in the first place, that’s the question, but the family never talked about it. They don’t even talk about it on the tours.”

“Hush money from the family,” Dustin whispered conspiratorially.

“Maybe.” Robin shrugged. “Family did name a wing of the library after her, since all she could do was sit in her room and read.”

“The library has wings?”

“Dude, her picture is hanging in the lobby,” Dustin pointed out.

“Why would I know that?” Steve asked.

“You all gonna order or sit there all day?” Their waitress was suddenly at their side, staring down at them expectantly. Dustin screeched and Steve jumped.

“Please tell me your gun has a safety,” Robin muttered, watching Steve as he tried to play off his sudden movement.

The three of them ordered and the conversation fortunately changed focus after that. Robin was busy with community college, her art, and the occasional shift at the video store. Dustin was busy with high school. Steve still couldn’t believe the kid was a freshman. He was also still involved with his girlfriend Suzy in Utah. His gang of friends didn’t get together as much as they used to, a part of which may have been the Byers and El’s move out of town, but they were still there for one another.

Steve took a bite of his burger, trying not to get any ketchup or residual grease on his uniform. “Mmh, best thing about this job, it’s just me at night, so I can call you on the radio.”

Dustin perked up over his corn beef sandwich. “Cool.” He took another bite. “Oh, but Tuesdays and Wednesdays aren’t good, because that’s when I talk to Suzy.”

“Okay.”

“And I have a lot of homework on Monday nights, usually a pop quiz on Friday,” the boy continued through another mouthful.

Steve set his hamburger down. “So, don’t radio you, is what you’re saying?”

“No, I’m just busy. I’ve got a lot of homework, and if I don’t talk to Suzy, she gets mad. You know how girls are.”

“Hey.” Robin smacked his shoulder.

“I’m in trigonometry, and it’s a lot,” Dustin sighed.

“Dude, you’re a freshman. Why are you taking trig?” Steve shook his head and shoved a fry in his mouth.

“Because I have plans for my life,” Dustin defended. “I want to be something.”

Steve’s heart dropped into his stomach and landed with a painful splash. He pushed his plate away and tossed his napkin on top. He couldn’t meet Dustin’s eyes. He couldn’t meet either of their eyes.

“No, Steve, I didn’t mean you,” Dustin hurried to add. “I mean, you’ve got a job, like a real job.”

Robin put her hand gently on Dustin’s shoulder, stopping him before he could dig his hole any deeper. “Steve . . .”

Steve nodded. No, it was fair. It was a fair assessment. “No, it’s good. You’ve got college and Dustin has all the brains in the world. And Steve . . .” He didn’t know how to finish that, so he didn’t.

Steve stood up and pulled his wallet out. He tossed some money down on the table. “Steve, come on,” Robin protested.

“Steve, I didn’t mean it.”

“Dinner’s on me. I’m off to work. I’ll catch up with you all later.” And with that. Steve walked away from the table and his friends and out the door.

It was the first time Steve Harrington had been early to work, ever, but he felt like he had something to prove. Larry, the new day watchman and former night watchman, was not impressed. “You sign your name here to check in and out.” Larry pointed with something less than enthusiasm at a dirty clipboard hanging in the little, back room that was reserved for employees. It had probably been a pantry at one point. “Remember to put your walkie in its charging station when you check out. The walkie is only to contact the police, not for personal business of any kind. If you want to listen to a radio, bring your own.” He picked up a cracked binder and offered it to Steve. “Perimeter and room check every two hours. Mark the sheet as you go. Book lives on the third shelf.”

Larry held out a set of keys to the new guard. “These are the keys to all the doors. I’ll show you around.”

Steve shifted his feet expectantly. “Isn’t there something else I get?”

“Like what?”

He couldn’t believe he had to explain this. “Like a, you know, gun?”

Larry showed the most emotion he had all night. “What, no? After the tour you will be granted your official whistle and nightstick.”

“Whistle and nightstick?” Steve was utterly disheartened. He had a much cooler bat in his trunk.

“Come on, rookie.” Larry brushed past him and took off down the hall. “Bring the book and a pencil.” Steve sighed and followed.

Mooregrove Manor was room upon room of old stuff, old stuff tucked behind ropes with signs that read “Do Not Touch.” Every room on the first two stories was set up like the house hadn’t aged a day since the early 1900s. Dustin had been right. This was profoundly lame. Larry showed him all the locks to check, all the windows. He took Steve to the third floor where all the doors to the rooms were closed, but not locked. “Third floor is storage and some offices. These rooms stay closed. Open the door and look inside once every two hours, use your flashlight if need be. You will also be issued a flashlight,” Larry droned on. Steve wanted to cry.

They made their way back downstairs to the first floor. The largest room on that level was the Rose Room, so named because of its color. The late evening light shone through from above and danced across the carpet. Steve looked up. There was the glass ceiling Dustin had talked about. Steve stopped. “Is this where she died?”

Larry sighed. “Yes, that is where the body of Lillian Mooregrove was found in 1919. But no, the house is not haunted.”

“Are you sure?”

Larry had never been surer of anything in his life. “Do you know why this house has a night watchman?”

“To watch the stuff at night?”

“Because stupid kids used to break in here and try to have seances, tried to talk to the ghost of Lillian Mooregrove. But no one’s attempted to break in since 1962. Do you know why?”

“You’re really good at your job.”

Larry visibly swallowed. “I am not that old.” He swallowed again. “Because there is no ghost, that’s why! No one here but us and the spiders, so get used to it. I’d bring a book if I were you. You in college or something? This job is a great place for homework.”

Steve intentionally ignored his comment. “Still, kinda weird they rebuilt the window she fell through.”

“Rich people are always weird.” Larry adjusted his belt and headed on. “Come on, we’ll do the outside.”

After the outside tour, Larry officially gave Steve all the accoutrements of his job, from the flashlight to the whistle. It was all his now. “Disaster manual. Operations manual. Read it, front to back.” He pointed to the beaten-up office chair, indicating that Steve should sit. “Employee bathroom is the one in the back. Bring a cooler if you need food, but don’t leave a mess. I’d have to clean it up in the morning, and I won’t. You’ll stay and clean it up. Got it, kid?”

“Yes,” Steve sighed.

“See you in the morning.” Larry removed his jacket from a hook in the small room. “Don’t expect too much, and you won’t be let down. I’ll lock the front door on my way out but remember to do your checks.” And with that, Larry was gone, and the house was Steve’s.

Steve moved the chair from side to side as much as it would go. He sighed again and opened the operations manual. “History of Mooregrove Manor,” he read. The font as so small, and it was the first of . . . 112 pages?! Steve hung his head back in despair. When he looked up, his eyes caught the walkie talkie. He flipped it on. Static filled the room, and he considered calling Dustin. The conversation in the diner came back, and Steve quickly switched the walkie off.

He needed to move, to do something. Although it was early, Steve collected all his items and headed out on his first house check. It went much faster on his own. All too soon he was on the third floor, opening the doors and looking in. Office, office, storage, closet, and bedroom. Bedroom? Steve opened the last door again and stepped inside. Here was another preserved room, but it didn’t have any ropes or instructive signs. It was just a room, ready for anybody to come and sleep in it. “Weird,” he muttered. The room was suddenly very cold, and he shivered. This room had a draft. Maybe that’s why it wasn’t a part of the tour? Steve quickly closed the door and headed back downstairs.

He stopped in the Rose Room again and looked up at the ceiling. The sun had finally set, and the house was so quiet, so still. Steve felt a deep sadness, and he’d like to say it came out of nowhere, but he knew exactly where it came from. In the morning he’d go home to his big house and be all alone. His parents were off on another trip. Then tomorrow evening he’d get to come here to this big, empty house. Perhaps he should be grateful for the peace and quiet? There were no Demogorgons or Mind Flayers to fight, no Russian codes to break, no evil scientists, no kids to protect. No Dustin.

Steve cleared his throat, trying to swallow the emotion he felt building up inside. The house really was empty, just like Larry had said it was. It was the fullest, emptiest house he’d ever been in, save his own. “No wonder you jumped,” he muttered to the ceiling. “If you jumped.” He thought about his own empty house again, Harrington Manor. “Master bath and toaster,” he decided with a smirk. That’s how he’d do it.

His checklist completed for another two hours; Steve returned to the employee pantry. He sat down and stared at the Operations Manual. “History of Mooregrove Manor,” he read again. He continued to read this time. The house was still around him, save for the bedroom door on the third floor which quietly slid open.