Derry Park – 1962 (Before the movie-theatre incidents, after Matty’s disappearance)

The crisp fall air drifted through the trees of Derry Park, carrying with it that damp smell the town never really shook off—like wet leaves and old paint. You and Phil sat on one of the rusting green benches, two miserable souls pretending you weren’t waiting for Teddy like a pair of widows.

Alright, maybe that was dramatic. Teddy wasn’t dead—not yet, anyway. His parents had just dragged him off to that Jewish convention where he was supposed to “purify his spirit” or whatever nonsense they’d called it. Neither of you cared enough to remember the details; the whole thing sounded like a week-long sermon about guilt.

Honestly? You’d rather listen to Phil ramble for hours about his stupid theories, or how aliens were planning to buy you as slaves next year. At least he played along with your games. At least he didn’t call you “savage.”

A cold wind shivered between you, carrying the distant sound of traffic and the creak of the old swings. Phil glanced over at you as he licked the vanilla ice cream you’d bought from the cart vendor. Sure, there were rumors that the guy made his ice cream out of missing kids, but it tasted good, and no one in Derry ever really proved anything.

You’d been talking for almost an hour—well, Phil had—and he’d finally run out of fuel long enough for you to enjoy five precious minutes of silence. Five.

Then a woman walked by with a plump little Corgi trotting at her feet. Phil’s eyes lit up. Subtlety died.

He jabbed a finger toward the dog with all the restraint of a toddler spotting his favorite toy.

“Dude, look. Do you think that dog is actually, like, an invasive species controlling that old lady with psychic powers? Analyze it!”

So much for silence.

The woman shot the two of you a look full of offended confusion—classic Derry adult, like she already suspected you were trouble even before Phil opened his mouth. And Phil still hadn’t learned how to lower his voice, so of course the whole comment hung in the air for everyone within a ten-foot radius to judge.