CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I
AN UNSCHEDULED APPOINTMENT
Tuesday arrived at The Millwork Tavern at about ten-thirty in the morning, quietly walking in the door to Doctor Frederiksen’s office. Michelle spotted her immediately looked over her schedule, noting that there was no time for her that day. Tuesday began to go into a fit of hysterics over the possibility of being unable to see Doctor Frederiksen, and began to hyper-ventilate a little bit, putting on a good show.
“I need to see Doctor Frederiksen!” Tuesday demanded, laboring her breathing in a show of desperation.
“I’m sorry, Tuesday!” Michelle explained, trying to be as apologetic as she could be. “He is completely booked for the day.”
“You don’t understand!” Tuesday shouted, intentionally attempting to cause a scene with the two other patients who were sitting in the waiting area. “My Mom is dead and he told me that I could see him whenever I needed to, and I really need to see him right now!” Tuesday worked up some tears, which wasn’t a difficult stretch for her because all she had to do was think of her mother.
Michelle went to cut Tuesday off, but was silenced when Doctor Frederiksen walked through the doors, as if it had been preordained. He immediately caught the gist of what was being discussed between his receptionist and his patient, and walked over to them to clear up the misunderstanding. The sight of him caused Tuesday to panic, suddenly causing her to feel uneasy about this whole appointment. Tuesday knew that she had the upper-hand, that she had knowledge of the events that Doctor Frederiksen was certain were long buried. If Tuesday had anything to say about it, those particular skeletons were about to come back and haunt him.
“If Miss Moxley needs to see me, I can make the time for her.” Doctor Frederiksen commanded, making his meaning clear.
“But sir, Vincent, your ten forty-five is already here.” Michelle replied. “He’s sitting right over there.”
Doctor Frederiksen walked over to where Vincent was sitting and looked at him. “Do you mind if we reschedule? He asked his patient. “I really need to work with her, and I’ll waive the fees on your next two appointments if you can reschedule.”
Vincent seemed amicable to the idea of waiving fees and shook his head in agreement. “That’ll be alright, I guess.”
The next couple of minutes were spent with Doctor Frederiksen, Michelle and Vincent hammering out the specifics of when he was going to be rescheduled and verifying that he wouldn’t be paying for the next few sessions. After they cleared everything up, Doctor Frederiksen motioned to Tuesday, who was sitting on the floor by the wall, her knees scrunched to her chest and rocking front to back, knocking her head gently on the wall, creating a rhythmical percussive sound.
Doctor Frederiksen motioned to Tuesday for her to come to the back, but she lingered for a few seconds before getting up to follow him. She had wondered at that moment if her performance had been good enough to warrant winning one of those gold statues that they give away in Hollywood.
As Tuesday followed Doctor Frederiksen back to his office, time seemed to stand still. She knew that once she opened Doctor Frederiksen’s can of dark secrets, there would be no turning back. Anxiety crept into her mind as she made a desperate attempt to consider whether she should turn back or not.
No. She couldn’t. There was no way she could turn back now. She needed to change things, and she needed to avenge her mother’s death at the hands of that hideous creature. She needed to see to it that both Doctor Frederiksen and The Nightmare would be punished for their sins, and that she could give her mother the peace she deserved.
Reaching the door to his office, Doctor Frederiksen opened it, and held it so Tuesday could enter. She sat in her usual seat and the Doctor went around the desk, taking a seat in his large chair, her eyes boring holes through him, though she hoped it wasn’t as noticeable as she felt that it was.
“How was your first weekend in the foster home?” Doctor Frederiksen asked, seemingly compassionate, to the extent that Tuesday had wondered if the man sitting before her could have been the same person who had “terminated test subjects” so many years before.
“It was alright.” Tuesday admitted, acting as if she were withdrawn from the conversation. “But I miss my mother terribly.”
“It’s only been a few days, Miss Moxley.” Doctor Frederiksen said soothingly, his voice slippery and silky in tone. “Time will heal these wounds.”
“You’re right, Doctor.” Tuesday agreed, shaking her head. “I’ve been thinking a lot about time lately.”
“In what way, Miss Moxley?” Doctor Frederiksen asked, curiously.
“I’ve been thinking that time is the answer to saving lives.” Tuesday explained, trying to sound more intelligent on the subject than she really was. “I feel like everything is assigned its place in time, and that in order to counter accidents, one must only budge their physical location back or forward a few seconds to alter their fate.”
“That is a very astute observation, Miss Moxley.” Doctor Frederiksen proclaimed, a smile on his face. “I am very impressed with this thought.”
“I’m here to conquer my nightmares.” Tuesday said, her voice monotonous and cold. “I need another dream session to achieve that.”
Doctor Frederiksen looked at her with some concern, not certain if she was ready to attempt hypnosis again so soon after her recent tragedy. “Are you sure you’re ready?” He asked, scribbling a few lines on his notepad. “What if something else happens?”
“I’m not afraid. I can take care of myself.” Tuesday admitted, mustering all the confidence in her words she could. “What else have I got to lose?”
Those last words rang out inside Doctor Frederiksen’s mind. “What else does she have to lose?” He thought repeatedly. “If you think you’re ready to try again, it sounds as if you have conquered your fear.”
“I am.” Tuesday confessed, her voice still icy. “I’m no longer afraid.”
Tuesday stood up and went into the hypnosis chamber, taking Winston with her, and holding him tightly. Each step toward the hypnosis room filled her with more and more hatred for Doctor Frederiksen, who she was reasonably certain deliberately knew who she was, and who her mother was. What had he told her when they met? “My eye has been on you for some time now, Miss Moxley. Despite my sincerest efforts at procuring your case, my efforts have gone mostly unnoticed up to this point.” The words had taken on a completely different meaning to her after discovering that he might have been the architect of her birth. Tuesday wondered if her mother had even suspected that this guy had been a part of her own past, and that the two of them had been pawns in an ongoing, twisted game.
Tuesday laid down on the sofa gripping Winston while Doctor Frederiksen tried to hook up the EKG leads and mind sensors to monitor her activity, his hand shaking as he did so. This did not go unnoticed by Tuesday, who glimpsed the flesh on his hand appeared to be immolated.
“What happened to your hand?” Tuesday asked, curious about what was wrong with the doctor.
“I was putting a log in the fireplace this weekend, and my hand slipped.” Doctor Frederiksen answered, still working on attaching the leads to Tuesday’s forehead. “It’s nothing to worry about. Are you ready to begin?”
“Yes, I’m ready.” Tuesday answered still looking at Doctor Frederiksen’s hand, watching it shake as he began his countdown to place her into a deep state of hypnotic suggestion. Tuesday tried her best to relax, and focused on the words as she felt herself drift to sleep.
Tuesday awoke in her dream to find herself standing in the same park where she had saved the child from the murderer. The sun was coming out, and the snow was melting as the water from the slush ran down the banks and added to the water in the lake. Before being prompted to, Tuesday invited Doctor Frederiksen into her dream, saving him the trouble of asking her to do it himself.
Doctor Frederiksen materialized in front of her, look
ing around at the scenery around him. Tuesday stood there, her eyes closed, focusing on something, waiting for some of words of guidance to slip from his lying mouth.
“What would you like to do first, Miss Moxley?” Doctor Frederiksen asked her, curious about the nature of the entire session. “It’s your show today.”
“I would like to think of the past.” Tuesday announced, opening up her eyes and staring intently at him.
“The past?” Doctor Frederiksen questioned, a puzzled look on his face. “What on Earth for, child?”
“I have a theory.” Tuesday admitted, looking around the park to see who might be around. “I want to test it out.”
“Why do you want to hold on to the past?” Doctor Frederiksen queried, reasserting his dominance of the situation over her. “You have such control over the future!”
“Just wait and see.” Tuesday said, disappearing and leaving the doctor alone in the park.
Suddenly, Doctor Frederiksen realized that Tuesday had gone to another place, but wasn’t there with her. It was dark, and she was alongside a street. Down at the end of the street, there was a house, and it appeared there was a party happening. A moment later, a ghost from his past came walking up the sidewalk toward Tuesday, who was clutching Winston for support. It was Megan Ackerman accompanied by four young men. She was just as he had remembered her, as if no time had passed at all. Tuesday was going to have a discussion with her.
This could not be allowed to continue.
II
THE NIGHT OF THE