CHAPTER THREE
I
TUESDAY’S MORNING
The alarm clock unkindly blared out its repetitive, one-note wake-up call as Tuesday jerked awake from her light sleep. There were dark lines under her eyes, which was a telltale sign that she had rough night. Her thoughts were on her mother’s make-up on the dresser, and she had hoped she could sneak enough to cover up the blemishes. She got out of her bed and found some clothes folded, although not too neatly, on her dresser for her. She slipped on her slippers and put on her bathrobe, heading to the shower, leaving her trusty bear Winston to guard the room for her.
A few minutes later Tuesday returned, with a towel wrapped around her head, drying her hair. She looked briefly at the ensemble that her mother had picked for her to wear and remembered how terribly out of synch Megan was with her personal sense of teenage fashion, as most moms tend to be. The real problem instead was that her mother actually was in touch with the fashions, but fashion was something that Tuesday tended to buck every chance she got. She grabbed her brown shirt from the closet, her baggy black cargo pants, and her pink hoody. The collection was pleasing to her eye, knowing that nobody else would be dressed like this today.
That day marked spirit day at her school, and everyone who was anyone in her school would be wearing school colors, blue and gold. The thought of those colors together was something that turned her stomach somewhat. She hated Cadence Falls High School, and most days she hated everyone in it, from the students to the faculty. The students were always teasing her about her problems, calling her a witch, or other similar things. The one title that got on her nerves the most was “freak-girl”. Tuesday hated that. As if the students picking on her weren’t bad enough, the teachers always seemed to take up for her tormentors when something happened, which was happening with more frequency as the months went on. She had only been in high school a few months now, but it seemed as if her reputation from middle school had carried over to her new school, as did one of the primary threats to her existence, Principal Patrick McCauley.
Patrick McCauley had worked his way up through the school system from the time she was a young girl. She had first met him when she was in elementary school, and he had made it a point to show preferential treatment to the children whose parents were more wealthy than the children whose parents were poor. When Tuesday had first began having her nightmares, Principal McCauley was the among the first who doubted her, and began turning a blind eye to other students who would bully her. Each time there was an incident with the students, she would get called to the office and be punished, while the other students who had bullied her got off without even so much as a warning. When Tuesday began her first year at Cadence Falls Middle School, she was glad to be rid of him, and things seemed to be going well until she came back from winter break and found that Principal McCauley had been reassigned to her school, where the pattern began yet again. With each consecutive year passing, his method of singling her out become more vicious. He had treated some of the other students in the same way, but for Tuesday, it felt very personal. And when she had finally left the middle school, she thought it would be the last she would see of him, yet there he was again, there on her first day of high school, ready to plague her some more, as budget cuts gave him the job of both the middle and high schools. Principal McCauley was one of the reasons that she hated school, and couldn’t wait to move out of Cadence Falls.
“Stuff spirit day.” Tuesday told Winston, who gazed at her in silence, agreeing with every word she said. “They don’t like me, and I don’t like them.”
Tuesday removed the towel from her head revealing her curly brown neck length hair, which she picked up her brush and began to fix. She gazed into the mirror as she fixed her hair, and applied some light makeup to cover up the lines under her big brown eyes. When she finished, she inspected it to make sure that she looked all right. She knew that nobody would notice either way, but there was no harm in looking nice. She put on the clothes she picked out and then put on some socks and shoes. Just for extra measure, she put on some of the body spray she had gotten from her mother last Christmas. Megan had always tried to pick out things like this for her, as she knew that Tuesday liked things from the local bath store. She took a last look in the mirror, inspecting herself top to bottom, and gave herself two-thumbs up.
Tuesday then went over to the desk in her room and gathered her books and her papers, stuffing them all into her backpack as if it were a Thanksgiving turkey. It didn’t matter to her, she knew that her homework was complete; there was no rule for how neatly the paper was when she turned it in. She once had an IQ test and scored really high. She didn’t know the exact score, but she overheard the councilor telling her mother that she had the highest IQ score he had ever seen from a girl of her age. She scored higher than anyone else in the school. Tuesday knew that she was also very motivated to boot. The councilor told her Megan that if this trend continued, her daughter could have any career she wanted so long as she was willing to put in the time in college.
College. She couldn’t wait. Only four more years in Cadence Falls and she could leave forever. If by some chance her mother wanted anything to do with her, she could come and see her. Once she left Cadence Falls, she told herself there would be no looking back. Ever. Period. She relished the thought in her mind of the invitations to class reunions, which she would send back, and would use as many adult words as necessary to convey the message that she wouldn’t be attending without fear of retribution.
She had repeatedly begged her mother to move from Cadence Falls, but her mother wouldn’t hear of it. Megan owned the house in Cadence Falls, and had worked hard to make the mortgage payments on it. If Megan had one thing to be proud of in her life, it was that she had done well in making a home for her and Tuesday to live in. She purchased it from an elderly couple who were looking to move to Florida to escape the cold winters, and had left it furnished with the antique furniture they had purchased over the years. Tuesday often wondered how much some of it would be worth if she took it to be appraised, and if the sum was enough, if she could convince her mom to sell the house and leave Cadence Falls. It didn’t really matter though, she was only a kid and no proper appraiser would never come anywhere near a hole like Cadence Falls. Even if they did show up, and something was worth a lot of money, her mother would probably sell it off to pay for her next high. She simply couldn’t understand why her mother didn’t sell the house and get a fresh start someplace else.
When Tuesday had finished loading her backpack full of her school paraphernalia, she grabbed Winston and stuffed him into a pouch that she had sewn on the outside specifically for him. It seemed that Winston was the best friend a fourteen-year old girl could have most days. He certainly was easy to talk to. She always made him feel better. And most importantly, he would never leave her. Inside she knew that he was inanimate object and nearly grew out of taking him everywhere a few years ago. She once saw a television program where a man lived a very happy, solitary life with his only friend being a houseplant. It was all the justification she ever needed to continue on with her relationship with Winston. Ever since that day, she never questioned Winston’s loyalty, in fact, it had become a lot of fun to try and use Winston to throw the shrinks off when they became too inept or unnecessary. She and Winston were going to be friends for life.
After checking to see that Winston was secure, she picked up the pack and slung it over her shoulder, and headed downstairs to see what the day has in store for her.
As she reached the edge of the stairs, the memory of last night’s dream sprung into her mind, and she froze. The numbing fear overtook her and she was unable to take another step forward, and she found that she was visibly shaking. Going down those stairs was the last thing she wanted to do, but knew that she had to continue on.
Bravery takes on many forms. Sometimes it’s the guy who runs into a burning building to save an infant from a fi
ery death. Sometimes it’s the police officer who puts his life on the line to save others. But sometimes bravery takes the form of gathering every ounce of courage you have to go down a flight of stairs so you won’t be late for school, regardless of what the day might have in store for you.
“Maybe it won’t even happen today.” Tuesday had to remind herself that sometimes she would dream these things and they wouldn’t happen until weeks later. Still, she wasn’t one to throw caution to the wind.
With that in mind, Tuesday swallowed that lump in her throat and began that journey down the stairs as one would begin any journey, with the first step. She forced the right foot forward, and then the left, and repeated the process until the feeling had passed. About half way down, she became comfortable enough to take the rest of the staircase with confidence.
II
GETTING MOTIVATED
When Tuesday had reached the bottom of the stairs, she realized that she was in a much more cheerful mood than she had expected to be in now that the feeling of dread had passed. She looked around for her mother and when she didn’t see her, figured she had already gone to work. She headed into the kitchen and set her backpack onto the table, where on the other side there was a note with some money sitting on it. Tuesday scrunched her face up in a sour look on and walked around to the other side of the table, picking up the note and read it aloud.
Here is some munny for your lunch. Sorry I slept a littel late and didn’t have time to make a lunch for you so your gonna hafta buy something for you to eat. I hafta work late tonight, so get yourself something for dinner as well. Try to get thru the day as best as you can. – Love Mom. P.S. – No skipping school today or else your grounded for a month and a half.
Tuesday was tempted to make proofreading marks on her mother’s note, but instead just grabbed the money from the table. To her amazement, she looked at it and realized that it was not one, but two twenty dollar bills sitting on the note. “She must have worked really hard last night.” Tuesday thought to herself, still clearly still disgusted about the way events had gone down just hours ago. It didn’t bother her so much on the outside that her mother was sleeping with people for money; it just bothered her that she did it at home. Why couldn’t she go to her client’s house? Why did she have to have a stupid drug habit anyway? If it weren’t for the drugs, she wouldn’t have to have the extra money and wouldn’t have to sleep around. On top of her own problems, she had to deal with the fact that her mother was engaged in this sort of behavior. Worse yet, everyone knew it. It wasn’t as if she was being discreet about any of it. She put it all out there on the table for the whole world to see. Megan probably would have been arrested by now if she hadn’t kept clientele with half the Cadence Falls Police Force. Considering there were twelve cops in town, she had three on her side, turning a blind eye. The others were working on more substantial things, undercover work, doughnuts and coffee, whatever. Pushing the thought from her mind, she stuffed the bills into her pocket taking advantage of her mother’s generous lack of economical skills.
Tuesday turned to the cabinet and poured a large amount of generic, sugar-coated cereal into a bowl. She then went to the refrigerator and opened the door, reaching for the milk. She put the milk out onto the table and opened it up, and smelled a sharp, sour smell as she did so. In a flash, she moved the milk over to the sink and poured it down the drain, making every effort she could not to throw up on the kitchen floor. She turned and tossed the carton toward the general direction of the trash, missing it completely and landing the discarded container somewhere on the floor.
She then spied the half of pot of coffee sitting on the coffee maker, having gone lukewarm from the automatic shutoff feature which seemingly had clicked off an hour or so ago. “That’ll do.” She thought as she reached for a cup. She gently poured the caffeinated beverage into the mug and added some sugar to it. Black and sweet, just the way she liked it. Tuesday carefully picked up the coffee from the counter and moved it over to the table where it would be joined by food.
She reached up into the cabinet and pulled down the bread, removing two slices from the bag. She gave it the once over for green moldy spots. Seeing none, she then proceeded to place them gently inside the toaster. She checked the toaster’s temperature setting and turned it down as not to burn her toast, thinking about the forthcoming day. She jiggled the handle of the old toaster, as it would sometimes stick and then pressed it down. So far, none of the morning seemed memorable to her, so with any luck, today wouldn’t be the day that the accident would happen. She would have definitely remembered the smell of the milk. And she also wouldn’t have been surprised by her mother’s generosity with the money thing if this had been the day that she had foreseen.
She really went into her mind and tried to think about what it was that was happening to her in that dream, and felt as if she really needed to know, for if nothing else, her own peace of mind. She couldn’t recall any of the details from before standing out on the street in her nightgown. She really wished she were sick today, so she could stay home and not find out one way or the other, and then the thought of skipping crossed her mind until she remembered what the note her mother left her said. And the money, what was that all about? Was it some bribe to get her to go to school? Did her mother feel guilty about having a client at the house last night? What was it about that exact amount of money that made her feel uneasy, other than her mother was never this giving?
The clicking sound of the toaster finishing its task interrupted her from her thought, as she automatically walked over to the cabinet and got out a plate, placing it on the counter, and putting her toast on it.
She pulled the hot slices from the appliance and put them on the plate, then skipped over to the refrigerator, swinging the door wide open, trying to decide between butter, jelly, or peanut butter. In the end she decided on strawberry preserves, being the most filling of the three. For a moment, she struggled with the lid of the jar, which had been sealed, mostly due to the stickiness of the sugary substance contained within. Finally, the lid popped open and she plunged a knife deep within the jar, trying to maximize the amount she could balance on it in transit to the rapidly cooling slices of toast. After a few attempts, she fully covered the heated bread with the strawberry goodness, and took it to the table where she sat, eating alone before leaving for school with only Winston there to look after her.