Lucas heard El describe the Inbetween as a black and neverending room. Ripples of water appeared wherever you stood. There were no lights, but there was no need for them because somehow, without light: everything was visible. El said there were no scents, something you are unaware of until your return to the real world. No sounds, no whispers unless you went looking for secrets.
The Inbetween Lucas wandered was in some way similar to her description but in so many ways nothing like it all. Yes, the room was infinite; there was no horizon. But it was not entirely empty. As soon as he began to walk, he noticed items (garbage, really) littered on the floor, water rippling against them like waves against the shore. And there was an echo of light. The dying explosion of a firework occasionally goes off with a pathetic bang.
There were snatches of voices, screams of joy and fear alike, laughter and yelling, singing and rolling skates. He even thought he heard his name being said, but just as he could be sure: the sound slipped away. There was the sound of slamming doors and the chitter of wild animals.
The climate was not something he thought of, and he is not sure he could have prepared for it. Sometimes it would be nice cool on a summer night, and he could almost smell water evaporating from the pavement. Then he would step forward and be in a tundra that reminded him of snowball fights and sledding down hills. Pure joy.
Maybe it was because of their quest. The way that Lucas is here travelling. It might be that the condition of her mind affected how the Inbetween manifested itself. It is not a priority for Lucas to figure out as long as he brings Max back. Back to the people who love her, miss her, and need her to be okay. While Lucas was unsure of the plan, he knew that this was the last chance they would get, so Lucas could not be a coward; he had to be brave for Max; and be bold like her.
Lucas finally wandered close enough to approach the objects that littered the ground, and he was right: they were garbage. They were broken items of wood, fabric, metal and plastic, most he could not place, but some were easier to identify. And not all of them were the size they were supposed to be. It was like some Alice in Wonderland bullshit.
Life-size dolls: plastic, with their heads, popped off their necks and limbs pulled apart. Porcelain: shattered glass eyes and cracks in the paint. A plain brown bear slumped over.
Lucas came across shells, conch shells to be exact, next. Their pearly pink exteriors were muddy with something like coal. Some were reduced to dust. Lucas doesn't know why he did it, but he brought one up to his ears. They say you can hear the ocean; Dustin says it is just the sounds of your blood from your ears echoing back.
But it wasn't the ocean or blood rushing he heard from the shell.
Lucas heard Susan talking. Most of the words faded or skipped over like a faulty record player, but he heard:
"You'll have a big brother now," Susan's voice was hopeful but strained even in the crackle.
"Really? I've always wanted a big brother!"
Max sounded young, her voice a higher octave with traces of genuine hope. Max's voice now, even when sincere, always carried a slight inflection of wryness.
"When do I meet him?"
"Tomorrow, at the beach."
He knows that this is a violation of Max's privacy. He knows these are secrets Max holds to her chest: something that she has only occasionally shared with him. But it is as if he is glued to the shell; Lucas must let the conch keep playing.
Lucas hears what must be her and Billy's first introduction, their names are muffled, but it's not hard to connect the two voices saying something to the general sounds of it.
He hears something break, and Lucas hears Max yell in frustration and shock, "Why did you do that, Billy?"
"...learn respect!"
The word respect reverberated in the shell's wall with fury.
The voices loop again.
These objects must be memories.
A skateboard, well, a trail of skateboards. Some are big as cars, some the size of a palm, all broken tape barely holding together, and some had their wheels smashed or removed. Lucas knows that Billy had a nasty habit of breaking Max's skateboards; he remembers the first time he saw tape holding the skateboard for dear life. He remembers being confused and then mad for her that something she treasured was trashed. One of the skateboards rolled weakly with a whine; Lucas could hear whispers: every time Max had fallen, but every time she got up. He hopes he will get to see her skate once again.
Bright red sunglasses. Each lens was the size of a small house, staring into the reflections: Lucas saw the few that El and Max hung out with, all the hopes dashed away by monsters and death and distance, the fun they had, the joy Max had at having a friend, someone as weird in their girlhood. Something that Lucas never really thought about Max. She has always been tubular, easily besting the boys in verbal spats and during arcade games. He liked that she had trusted him with her secrets and fears. But Lucas supposes you never know how little you know someone until you find something new about them. He never thought how lonely it must be being the only girl. He knows how lonely and frustrating it is to be the only black boy in their friend group. They might all talk about being outsiders in their nerdy interests, but it didn't compare.
Lucas kept on walking when he reached a sea of glass. Even though he was wearing shoes (and it was still unclear how much he would be affected in the real world if he was hurt in Inbetween), Lucas knew better than to walk over the glass. He went to walk around its circle.
But wherever he went, the sunglasses always stood at his back. Lucas was no idiot: this was a sign that he had to go forward.
He trod carefully over the glass. When he realizes that it's not just glass but mirrors, shards of broken mirrors in a mosaic, after seeing his reflection back on the floor.
He was halfway through when he heard the song that played at the Snowball almost 2 years ago, and he saw in a mirror two paces in front of him: himself. Not as he was now, but younger and in a suit; he was smiling because he was dancing with the prettiest and coolest girl in school, and she wanted him. Then he felt what Max must have felt that night, proud that the dorky and kind boy liked her, confident to take what she wanted, and what she wanted was to kiss him. So she did, quickly and blushingly. Lucas knows Max likes him, maybe even loves him; she all but told him he was her happy moment, her light. But it's another thing to feel the joy he brings her, the brimming giddiness that filled Max during their first kiss. He knows that if the plan doesn't work: he will never love anyone else fully and completely.
He quickened his pace, not wanting to stray for much longer; he had to see this through.
Once the shattered mirrors were behind him, the trail was filled with bits of torn pages. White pages turned yellow and black and wet due to the Inbetween's environment. What they said is eligible to Lucas' eyes as the ink has run in muddy streaks. Though dirty, he can recognize that green from anywhere; it's the tickets to the basketball game.
It seems petty to still feel hurt about the game since, you know, the apocalypse came to Indiana, and so many had been injured, but that night still tugged some hurt in his heart. That night had not broken but torn his trust in his friends. How is it that he can trust them to have his back in monster fights but not trust them to care about him? That night was important to him, even if his winning shot was unforeseen. That night was the fruit of his labour at being accepted into the basketball team. Long days of drills and practice to be good enough to play. What should have been a victorious night left him with a bitter taste of resentment and alcohol.
It's not like he hadn't forgiven them. He has. So, why couldn't he let go of his hurt?
He can admit he resents his friends sometimes.
Sometimes it was hard to be a nerd, especially as a black boy. Unlike his friends, he couldn't hide his oddness. He couldn't hide the fact: he didn't fit in their predominantly white town, white world. They all had the luxury of pretending they didn't fit in just because they liked sci-fi and fantasy. It would kill their souls, but they could do it. He didn't have a choice. So, was it wrong of him to look for a place to fit in?
Basketball was the one place in school where he wouldn't stand out for being one of the two black kids. He could stand out on his merit, pass or fail. It was the one place where he could belong. He knows now that the team was a breeding ground of hatred for the odd. Despite Erica's teasing, he is man enough to realize that he has to overcome it. Life is full of disappointment, and having bloodthirsty psychopaths on your basketball team is just another one.
Throughout Lucas' journey in the Inbetween, there had been no buildings, just the junkyard of Max's life. But now he sees a red neon glow appear out of nowhere. He was staring right at that section; he blinked, and the glow appeared. The light leads to The Arcade.
The closer he approaches it, the more dread he feels. While none of this has been a walk in the park like he can taste fear clogging up his throat. It might be his instincts yelling at him to not go on, but it might be Vecna manipulating him away from where Max is. It might be foolish, but these are the risks you take for the person you love.
He began to sing Cloudbusting. He knows that this isn't Max's song, but after months of playing the Kate Bush album by Max's bedside, he began to prefer this song. So, with a gathering breath, he let out the uneven words and shaky tune. Hoping for a calm wave to crash over him. He hoped to drown out the angry and hateful voices that had begun to rise as he neared The Arcade. It was Billy, he could recognize, and the other male voice must be Max's stepfather, Neil.
Now, Lucas has never been in the Upside Down before. But he had heard Will convey it with a silent voice. He had heard Steve describe it in an incredulous tone. And it always has been described as a poisonous landscape spore of evil floating in the air where light should be darkness laid. Everything was cast in a rotten colour. The buildings looked like they had barely survived a bomb detonation. The arcade ahead of him was nothing like that, but it wasn't like the one in the real world. It was run-down, yes, but more like after years of disuse. Like Benny's Diner had looked: grimy and unkept, but nothing a renovation couldn't fix.
The neon kept flickering in and out in a violent red.
He was standing just before the door, about to reach it and open it. As if it was an ordinary afternoon when he and his friend would spend days and evenings in its loud and crowded area. Suddenly he felt a pull from his core like he was a puppet, and someone pulled his strings back. He was yanked back and saw the whole Inbetween flash before his eyes, in darkness and coloured landscape.