by Rik Johnston
CHAPTER TWENTY
I
A WELL-DESERVED BEATING
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1995
Word had spread all over school that morning regarding the rumors of supernatural occurrences that had happened at Tuesday’s house over the course of the night. The other kids had come to their own conclusions as to what had happened, and assumed that Tuesday must have had something to do with it all. Many of the other students were avoiding her like she had contracted the Ebola virus, walking wide circles around her in the hall, as if they were afraid of what might happen to them if they had contact with her. She noticed it the moment she had gotten on the bus, that the other kids were back to secluding themselves from her and talking to each other in hushed whispers.
Fortunately for Tuesday, Jason wasn’t jumping to any conclusions and was happy to see her on the bus. He came right over and sat by her, almost as if he were oblivious to anything that had transpired. “Hi ya, Tuesday!” Jason bounced up to her, in his usually chipper and happy mood. “Mind if I sit with you?”
Tuesday was glad to have the company, even just a couple of minutes of the icy attitudes from the other kids was enough to make her long for another real human being to notice her. “I can’t think of better company, mister!” She replied to him, feeling relieved to have him close to her.
Tuesday found that Jason could make nearly every moment better in her life. She had come to rely on his practical approach to being a compassionate human being, one who seemed interested in her problems and always showed up as a soothing balm when the rash of life was stinging her the most. It was as if he had some sort of warning system that alerted him when she was having a bad moment and he came to the rescue as if he were some sort of superhero. She wished that she had his kind of super powers more than the ones she had been given.
This very morning was just another fine example of how much of a curse her gift could be, and she had desperately hoped that this wouldn’t be one of those days in school that plagued her with incessant harassment from the other students. Even if it was, it made her infinitely happy in a small part of her soul to know that she would not be alone in that misery, that Jason would stand by her side and protect her from whatever came her way, as best as he could. Just having him on the bus was a reminder of how wonderful he had been to her, and that as first boyfriends went, she couldn’t have done better than Jason Alkali. She could feel a deepening of her feelings for him, and to some degree, it had frightened her. She couldn’t bear the thought of being that close to him and something happening to him. Now that she was awake again, her fragmented memory was all that she had left of the events at the Jackson house. Tuesday didn’t want anything to happen to Jason, and especially didn’t want her memories of him to be fractured in any way, shape or form. She had prized every single moment that the two of them had spent together, and was hoping that she could make even better ones as time went on.
But Jason was so hard not to get close to with his boyish charm, and with his kind and convincing smile. She was beginning to find him irresistible in a way that her limited experience with boys would not allow her to explain. Was this the beginning of love? She didn’t know for sure, as she had never been in love. It was driving her crazy though, because she wanted to talk to him about it, but didn’t know if he felt the same. The “what-ifs” were the unquantifiable part of the multiple equations that ran through her mind when she thought about Jason. She knew with her experience with people that there was always more to people than what they seemed to be on the surface, but Jason seemed so different, like his motivations were pure and was exactly what he seemed to be. But how could she be sure of that? She held back, with a small voice inside her telling her that she would know the right time to tell him how she was feeling, and when that time came, it would be an instant she would never fail to recall.
During the bus ride to school, Tuesday held Jason’s hand and told him in hushed and quieted tones about how she had vanquished a drug dealing mafia by herself. Jason wasn’t sure he believed it all, but admitted that he had felt the ground shake over the course of the night, which seemed to coincide with Tuesday’s tale.
When the pair of them had reached school, Tuesday and Jason had gone their separate ways for their classes. While the other pupils were clearly avoiding Tuesday, none of them had gone out of their way to start trouble with her.
Not until after third period was over anyway.
The bell had rung and the third period class let out, filling the corridors with kids and young adults. Tuesday grabbed her backpack, with Winston firmly attached in his travelling pocket and made her way out to the hall, where she spotted Serina Jackson making her way through the crowd of kids. Upon spying Serina, Tuesday knew that she had to get a moment with her, hoping to piece together the puzzle of what had happened at their home. Tuesday moved through the crowd to where Serina was trying to get into her fourth period class and stopped her.
“Serina!! Serina!!” Tuesday called out, hoping to capture her attention. After calling out a few more times, Serina looked around and heard Tuesday trying to get her attention and stopped to see what she wanted.
“Yeah?” Serina asked, rolling her eyes when she realized it was Tuesday trying to get her attention. “What do you want?”
Tuesday knew that the conversation she was about to have would require very delicate tact and compassion, otherwise it could end in disaster. But Tuesday’s inquisitiveness far outweighed any sense of fear she had of Serina, or what she might do to her. “Can we talk for a minute?” Tuesday asked, almost not believing that the words had come from her mouth.
Serina stopped cold in her tracks. “Why?” She said in a frosty, almost dismissive tone. Serina questioned Tuesday’s motives in her mind, wondering exactly what it was that Freak Girl wanted to discuss with her. “I’ve got to go to class, I don’t have time to talk to you.”
“Please, Serina!” Tuesday pleaded, trying to find the words to negotiate a conversation with her rival. The two of them had been enemies for many years, so it was equally uncomfortable for the two of them to even want to speak to one another, yet Tuesday was offering the olive branch to Serina, hoping to compare notes regarding what had happened with Jessica. “I need to talk, privately.”
Something about the way Tuesday mentioned the word privately had struck a sudden interest in Serina, and she reluctantly agreed to talk to her. “Okay, let’s do it.” Serina surrendered, as if an underlying curiosity was eating at her, wanting to know what her adversary had to say.
Tuesday and Serina had snuck into the basketball gymnasium where the sunlight, low on the autumn horizon came in through the upper windows, poorly illuminating the expansive room in the darkness. The two went down to the far end of the gym, where they would not be easily heard by anybody who might be walking by outside the doors that led back to the school corridors. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the low lighting in the room, but found themselves near the stage at the far end of the sports center which doubled its use as an auditorium. The fourth period bell sounded as the two of them faced off toward one another with a tension that was visible even in the terrible lighting.
“What do you want, Tuesday?” Serina asked, demanding answers for why she was about to receive a tardy for fourth period.
“Look, I know we haven’t been friends for a long time.” Tuesday began, tiptoeing through the minefield of words, greatly hoping not to step on a wrong one. “And I’m really sorry about your sister.”
“You’re sorry?” Serina huffed, annoyed by having to come all the way out to the gym to hear this. “I’ve heard this so many times over the last few days. Everybody’s sorry. They don’t know what it’s like to lose a sister. She was my twin, it’s as if half of me has died.”
Tears were beginning to fall from Serina’s eyes and down her face as she opened up about her experience to the last person she ever thought she would be talking to. “Can you tell me wh
at happened?” Tuesday asked softly. “I really need to know.”
“Why do you care?” Serina demanded to know. “We aren’t friends, you don’t like me, and I don’t like you. My sister didn’t like you either.”
“I need to know.” Tuesday said, hoping that the next words wouldn’t come as too much of a shock to Serina in her already damaged state of mind. “I think I dreamt about it, but I can’t remember it.”
Serina instantly became angry upon hearing about this. “You dreamt about it? And you didn’t tell anybody about it?” She asserted, raising her voice to an uncomfortable level.
“I can’t remember all of it.” Tuesday confessed, trying to calm Serina down. “Only bits and pieces.”
Serina wasn’t buying it. “You’ve had all these freaky dreams for years, you saw everything coming, and made yourself look like a fool raving about all these things, but the one time that it happens to me, and you can’t remember it?” Serina emphasized her point by getting a little louder and balling up her fists, her anger beginning to take control of her.
“I want to remember it!” Tuesday said, shielding her words carefully, hoping to not further anger Serina. “If I could have remembered it, I would have warned you.”
“Would you?” Serina asked, her voice spitting venom. “Would you really? After all the beatings we’ve given you over the years, would you have really told us? I think you did remember, and you didn’t tell us because you hate us that much! You said it yourself on the bus, you wanted us dead!”
“I was angry when I said that!” Tuesday shot back, trying to reason with Serina. “I never meant for anything to happen to you, and I’m sorry that it did. And I wish with all my heart I could take back those words, but it wouldn’t change anything between us.”
“But you still said it!” Serina proclaimed, stinging Tuesday with that truth repeatedly. “And now my sister is dead.” Serina crumpled to the floor, tears flowing from her eyes like rivers down the curves of her face. Tuesday knelt beside her and placed her hand on Serina’s shoulder, trying to comfort her as best as she could.
Serina spent the next few minutes gently sobbing, to the point that she could not speak properly. Tuesday rubbed her hand on her shoulder, hoping that it would be as helpful as it could. After a few moments, Serina seemed to calm down and began to tell Tuesday what had happened at her home.
“Jess and I had just gotten home from school, and we were going to go out with our boyfriends to get something to eat.” Serina began, staring blankly into the darkened gym, trying to recall the exact events of what had happened. “We got changed to go out, and decided to wait out in the back by the pool and get some air. This crazy guy with a gun came out of the bushed, I’m not sure if he expected us to be there, and so he fired a few shots in our direction. One of them hit Jess in the head. I can still see her body falling to the ground, in like slow motion, like some movie or something.”
Tuesday was listening intently to Serina’s story, clinging to every word she said. “What happened next?” She whispered.
“I heard the shots, and I saw her fall. I reacted and began running back to the house.” Serina said, trying to remember how it all exactly happened. “He began to chase me with that gun in his hand. Somehow the wind caught one of the lawn chairs and it hit him. It knocked him down and gave me enough time to get into the house. As I locked the door, I looked back out, hoping that Jess was somehow moving, but she wasn’t and there was blood everywhere! So I ran toward my father’s room where he keeps his guns, hoping to defend myself. As I ran, I heard another shot and the glass shattered, and the psycho came in through the broken window on the door. And then the doorbell ring, and I thought to myself, that somebody heard what was going on, and that I was saved. Next thing I knew, the guy shot himself in the head. I ran back over to the door and opened it, but nobody was there. I haven’t told anybody about the doorbell, and I don’t know why I’m telling you about it now. I thought it was my guardian angel, what other explanation could there be! Nobody was there!”
Serina went back to sobbing for several moments. Tuesday couldn’t believe what she had heard. Why couldn’t she remember any of this, other than a few still frames of a gunman? The story made sense to her, but what she couldn’t understand was why she couldn’t save them both with the amount of control she had. She stopped twenty armed gunmen at her house, why couldn’t she prevent one from killing Jessica Jackson? The thought haunted her the more that she thought about it. What was the missing piece of the puzzle? What was it about the event that she could not recall? Her head swam with the possibilities, but none of them made any sense to her.
Serina seemed in that moment to snap back to her senses, and her anger overtook her again, having just relived the entire murder of her twin sister. Instantly, she flew into a blind rage and began to attack Tuesday. Serina was landing blows that were hitting harder and were more focused than anything Tuesday had ever encountered from her before. She could not defend herself from Serina’s onslaught of punches and kicks. Tuesday fell to the ground, curling herself into a fetal position while Serina stomped on her repeatedly. Tuesday felt a rib crack, and then another, but she made no effort to fight back. It wasn’t long before Tuesday had lost consciousness completely.
II
LAST CHANCE SQUANDERED
The next thing that Tuesday was aware of was a cold feeling pressed firmly against her head. She slowly opened her eyes, flooding her senses with brilliant, bright light, which at first was painful to her eyes. She moved to sit up and realized that her body was in a significant amount of pain, particularly in her ribs which was making it difficult to breath without a degree of discomfort. When her eyes finally adjusted, she realized that she was in the school infirmary being treated for injury. It was at that moment that Tuesday realized that it was foolish to think that she could ever have a regular conversation with Serina Jackson, and she most likely never would.
The school nurse entered the room, and realized that Tuesday was awake. “How are you feeling?” She asked, half-heartedly caring about Tuesday’s condition. It was clear she was doing her job because she had to, and for no other reason.
“How did I get here?” Tuesday inquired, still piecing together what had happened. Serina’s attack had come so swiftly and without warning that Tuesday had lost consciousness before she had fully realized what had happened. She vaguely recalled Serina lashing out.
“Serina Jackson told Principal McCauley where you were.” The nurse replied, shaking her head. “You never should have picked on her like that. In my opinion, you deserve this.”
Tuesday had wondered what it was that Serina had said. Serina and her sister had always had it out for her, and reveled in their ability to get Tuesday into whatever trouble they could. She had a feeling that she was about to find out what sort of tempestuous lies were brewing in Serina’s mind. The nurse finished examining Tuesday’s injuries and noted them in her school medical transcript. When she was finished, she flipped the file closed the nurse handed Tuesday a slip of paper to take to Principal McCauley. Tuesday reached out and accepted the document, but was not eager to take it to its destination.
Tuesday left the infirmary and made her way down to the office, where she checked in and postponed her day in the waiting area. The wait, as always, felt like it lasted an eternity. She remembered the last time she had sat in the waiting area, and Jason was there. She found herself wishing that Jason were there now. He had a way of putting everything into the proper prospective for her. He was the calm center of her chaotic world. She knew that her quality of life had become much better since he had come into it, and for that, she was exceedingly thankful.
After a moderate wait, Tuesday was called back into Principal McCauley’s office. She walked down the corridor to the office that she had visited far too many times in the past. A girl her age shouldn’t be as familiar with the stroll back to that
office as she was, it nagged at her that she knew how many steps it was from the waiting area to the Principal’s door, the musty scent of that hallway and how it always made her nose a little stuffy, and the short of the fluorescent lighting that buzzed and flickered, distorting her perception of her surroundings. She shouldn’t have an intimate knowledge of these things, but here she was, yet again, on her way to debate with Principal McCauley.
Tuesday reached the door, and pushed it open ever so slightly, hoping to get a feel for Principal McCauley’s mood before she entered the room. He did not appear to be pleased. Tuesday knew she was at a disadvantage, not knowing what exactly it was that Serina had told him. Judging by what the school nurse had said, it wasn’t good. She finally had gotten her senses back enough to remember what had completely happened, but from experience she knew that no matter what she said, McCauley wasn’t going to listen to a word she said, so she wondered what the point of this entire charade would be.
“Come in, Miss Moxley.” Principal McCauley said in that way that crawled down her spine in a slimy and uncomfortable manner. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Tuesday walked up to the desk and handed the paper to Principal McCauley. He reached out and accepted the paper, but would not look her in the eyes. “Thank you.” He said as he placed the form on the desk in front of him, glancing over it once or twice.
“Look.” Tuesday said making an attempt to level with the Principal. “I don’t know what Serina told you, but I promise I wasn’t looking for trouble with her.”
“Miss Moxley.” Principal McCauley cut her off getting right to the point. “I am aware of what happened. You convinced Serina Jackson to go to the gymnasium with you under the false pretenses of friendship, and then told her how you felt about her sister’s death. It’s no wonder she beat you to a pulp, I probably would have too.”
“But, I didn’t. . .” Tuesday pleaded, but the Principal wouldn’t allow her to get a word in edgewise.
“I warned you. I told you if you disrupted this school one more time, that you would not be welcome here. And between the talk of the incidents at your home last night, and now what you’ve done to Serina, I have no choice but to permanently expel you.’ Principal McCauley explained, a smile spread across his face as he was taking joy in the words coming from his mouth.
“Please.” Tuesday pleaded, tears forming at the edges of your eyes. “I didn’t do anything. I met with Serina to offer my condolences, not to fight with her.”
“I’ve heard enough of your petty excuses.” Principal McCauley shot back at Tuesday. “You’ve been nothing but trouble in this school system for years, and this ends today.”
“Please, just listen to what I have to say!” Tuesday implored, begging Principal McCauley to listen to her side of the story, but he wasn’t having it.
“I will not listen to another word from your treacherous little mouth!” Principal McCauley erupted into a rage. “Do you know what I had to deal with from Serina? Do you even know what you did to that poor girl? You told her that you had wished she and her sister were both dead, and now one of them is! You went and rubbed that right in her face! When one of my faculty found her, she was so emotionally distraught over what you had said to her that we had to have her mother come and pick her up! Her family is threatening to sue the school because we couldn’t protect their daughter from you! Now get out of my office and out of this school, and don’t ever come back, or I’ll have you arrested!”
“I hate you!” Tuesday fired back, her temper rising to a level that she didn’t know she could have. “You’re the most unprofessional piece of human trash I’ve ever known! You have no compassion for anybody! You’re a liar and you’re biased toward the families of the rich kids and you treat the poor kids like garbage! You should be burned alive for what you said to my mother!”
Just then, Jimmy Waite came up and grabbed Tuesday from behind, picking her body up from the ground, which caused her to roar in pain. The squeezing Jimmy Waite was placing on her was agony on her broken ribs. Tuesday was surprised at the strength of McCauley’s goon as she began to flail and thrash around in his grip, despite the excruciating pain she was in, still screaming at the Principal. “You’ll be hearing from my therapist soon, and he will have your job you piece of crap!”
“Get her out of here!” Principal McCauley screamed, continuing to taunt Tuesday. “You have nobody to blame for this but yourself!”
Tuesday balled up her fist and thrust it downward, catching Jimmy Waite in the groin, causing him to let go of her, doubling him over in pain as she refocused her verbal attack on Principal McCauley. “I’ll see you in court, you worthless pile of camel dung! I can’t wait until you get what’s coming to you!”
Jimmy Waite made another attempt to grab Tuesday from the floor, but she kicked his hand away and stormed out of the office, screaming about Principal McCauley being a lying fascist dictator. Tuesday made no effort to clean out her locker, she just walked off the property and walked home at a brisk pace, with only the cold November air to put a chill on her temper. Despite her injuries, the walk seemed to take her no time at all, and soon she found herself on the lawn, walking past the police tape and the evidence markers that had been left behind and into the house where she spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening alone.
III
WHITE FLAG
Later that evening, Megan had returned home from work and found Tuesday sitting on the couch playing her Nintendo, frustratingly shooting the pixelated characters running around on the screen. She could tell that something was bothering Tuesday, and went over and sat beside her, hoping to console her daughter and find some answers.
“Hey there.” Megan opened the dialogue in a chipper tone of voice. “How was your day?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it.” Tuesday replied, furiously mashing buttons on her controller, trying to make an effort to beat a level boss.
“Did something happen today?” Megan’s voice changed, becoming more serious when she noticed the large bruise on her daughter’s face. “What happened?”
Tuesday knew that her mother wasn’t going to let up on her until she talked, so she paused her game and put the controller down, turning to talk to her mother. “Today started out great, other than the whole incident with the police and everything.” Tuesday began, telling her mother of the events of the day. “I got on the bus, and people were talking about it, but not to me, because they think I’m a freak. When I got to school there were whispers about what had happened, but I didn’t let it bother me too much. Then I saw Serina Jackson, and I needed to talk to her, so we went to the gym to talk privately. I know I shouldn’t have, but I needed answers from her, answers that only she could give me. So, we talked, and then next thing I know, she snapped and just started beating on me. I passed out and woke up in the infirmary, and was treated for two broken ribs and some bruising from where Serina had kicked me.”
“She broke your ribs!!” Megan asked, mixed with anger and concern. “This has gone too far, Serina Jackson’s parents are going to hear from us soon!”
“Mom, no!” Tuesday pleaded, trying to refocus Megan on her story. “So, I had to go see that liar McCauley, and he expelled me. Apparently, while I was passed out on the gym floor, Serina twisted the truth and told him that I was teasing her about her sister’s death and deserved to be attacked.”
“Did you say that?” Megan asked, probing for answers for the day’s events. “Just tell me the truth and I’ll believe you.”
“No, Mom.” Tuesday responded, her eyes full of truth. “I didn’t tease her at all.”
Megan’s temper suddenly went from zero to one-thousand. “That’s it!! I’m getting a lawyer and I’m suing him and that entire school!” Her threats were short-lived as they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Megan walked across the room and opened the door, and there was Serina and her mother, Alicia Jackson. Tuesday
seemed to curl up into a ball on the couch at the sight of them, as Megan stood in defense of her daughter.
“Hello, can we talk?” Serina’s mother asked in a polite tone of voice. Megan was surprised to see them there, but her temper had not yet subsided.
“What’s there to talk about?” Megan snapped. “Hasn’t your daughter already done enough?”
“I don’t know what you’ve been told.” Alicia said, still polite and calm. “I’d like to work this out, once and for all.”
This seemed to snap Megan back to her senses, so she invited them to come in and sit down, which they graciously did. “Can I get you anything to drink?” Megan offered, trying to be as amicable as she possibly could.
“Water would be fine.” Alicia answered.
Megan disappeared into the kitchen and soon returned with four glasses filled with ice and a pitcher of water. She handed glasses to each of them and poured the liquid into the cups. Alicia was ready to get down to business.
“I didn’t come here to start a fight.” Alicia announced. “I came to make amends with you. Our daughters used to be friends once.”
“That was a long time ago.” Megan answered, looking at her drink, swirling the water in the cup as she thought back to the days when their kids were close friends.
Tuesday and Serina sat on opposite ends of the couch, refusing to look at one another while their mother’s spoke to each other. “I heard what happened today, and came to apologize for my daughter’s actions.” Alicia stated with a genuine look of concern upon her face. “I don’t know what brought our children to this place of hatred, but we need to end it now.”
“My daughter was expelled today because Serina didn’t tell the truth.” Megan said, accusing Serina of a lie that had cost Tuesday her education. “Your daughters have bullied her for years because of her disability, and I’m supposed to just believe that you want to put this behind us?”
Alicia was surprised by what Megan was saying, and moved to clear it up. “That’s not what she told Principal McCauley. Go on, Serina. Tell him what you said.”
Serina sat on her end of the couch, looking nervous and uncomfortable as she began to speak. “After I attacked Tuesday, I went to the office and confessed what I had done. I told him that I was angry, and that I left Tuesday in the gym, passed out.”
“Go on.”, Alicia said, prodding her daughter to continue her confession.
“I was so upset about what I had done.” Serina admitted, becoming visibly agitated as she spoke. “I told him that I started the trouble, and that I didn’t want Tuesday to get into trouble. He began to question me about the conversation we had, and I told him what we had said.”
“Wait?” Tuesday piped up, confused by what Serina was saying. “You told him the truth? And he still expelled me?” Her anger was beginning to visibly show in her face as it became a shade of red that she wasn’t prepared for.
“Yeah, I told him exactly what happened.” Serina confessed. “I don’t know why you wanted to talk to me, but after I exploded, I realized that you were only trying to help me, and I felt awful about attacking you, so I went to get help for you. And then I heard you were expelled and that McCauley used my words against you.”
“That liar McCauley needs to get his butt kicked!” Tuesday stated, in a much louder voice than before.
“That’s a discussion for another time.” Megan countered, trying to keep Tuesday focused on the present matter.
As far as Megan was concerned, this was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and they were going to go to the school board if they had to. Megan knew that somebody like Patrick McCauley was a menace to the school system and had to be relieved. After the personal attack that he had made on her, she was more than ready to get him fired, but now that he had willfully acted against her daughter, it was a formal act of war between the two of them that he had declared. Megan would relish the day that Patrick McCauley would be terminated, and it was looking as if she would have support from Alicia Jackson in the matter, it was all but a certainty that it would happen.
“Principal McCauley has been a problem for Tuesday for years.” Megan acknowledged, thinking back to the numerous incidents Tuesday had with him over the years. “I wonder what else he has been dishonest about?”
Serina stood up and walked over to Tuesday, and looked at her for a moment, taking stock of who this girl in front of her really was. “I’m sorry, Tuesday.” Serina said remorsefully. “I’m sorry for everything.”
“Me too.” Tuesday replied, standing up to look at Serina. “I’m sorry it all went this way.”
The two girls embraced each other in a gesture of peace. Serina was careful not to squeeze Tuesday too tightly as not to hurt her ribs any more than she already had. The hug was quick, but meaningful. “I’m not going to tease you anymore.” Serina promised, feeling as though a weight lifted from her shoulders. “We’ve both been through too much to continue on like this. And while I didn’t understand what we were talking about, you were the only one who came to me like you really, truly cared. And that means a lot to me.”
“I’m happy to have helped you.” Tuesday answered, realizing that her life was about to drastically improve in the future. While the parents continued planning their attack on Principal McCauley’s job, Tuesday and Serina went up to her room to catch up on everything, and to try to pick up where they had left off. After a pleasant evening of visiting, the Jacksons said their goodbyes went home. While Tuesday was happy about this new evidence, that Serina had not intentionally gone to get her kicked out of school, she couldn’t help but think of Principal McCauley and knew that he was going to get what was coming to him, one way or another.
Tuesday secluded herself at home for the weekend, hoping to avoid any questions about suspension, about trees, and especially about drug dealers. She received brief visits from both Serina and Jason over the weekend, both concerned about what she was going to do about school, to which Tuesday had resigned herself that she would most likely have to finish up school in The Devil’s City, which she was not looking forward to.
Tuesday had to admit to herself how pleasant it was that she and Serina had managed to work out their differences, and the two of them could mourn the loss of Jessica together. Tuesday had even agreed to go the Jessica’s funeral with Serina’s family, and though it wasn’t something she was looking forward to, she felt that it was her personal responsibility to present herself there, if for no other reason than to put her mind at ease.
IV
VENGEANCE
MONDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1995
Tuesday slept in Monday morning since she didn’t have to be up early for school. She spent the morning cleaning up around the house, hoping to surprise her mother by sparing her the effort of doing so herself. When the afternoon arrived, she prepared herself for her appointment with Doctor Frederiksen and was anticipating what it was she might learn from him on this day. When it was time to leave, she grabbed her backpack with Winston and walked to The Millwork Tavern with plenty of time to stop by Tuck’s Diner to check in with her mother.
When she arrived at Doctor Frederiksen’s office, Michelle had already checked her in and sent her straight back. Tuesday was becoming a common face around the office and had a good track record of keeping her appointments so they were beginning to give her preferential treatment. It didn’t hurt that Doctor Frederiksen himself was writing a memoir on his interactions with Tuesday for his next international bestseller. Being the bread and butter of Doctor Frederiksen’s career certainly didn’t hurt either.
Tuesday walked down the hall that led to Doctor Frederiksen’s office and let herself in when she reached the door. He looked happy to see her.
“Miss Moxley!” Doctor Frederiksen greeted her warmly. “Come in! How are you?”
“Could be better.” Tuesday replied with a glimmer of hope in her voice. “I had a long talk with my Mom the other night and l
earned some things that I wish that I didn’t know.”
“Take a seat, would you?” Doctor Frederiksen said politely. “Would you like to talk about those things?”
“Well, some of it is my Mom’s personal business.” Tuesday admitted. “But some of it is about me as well.”
“Would you care to elaborate?” Doctor Frederiksen pressed her for more information.
“I’ll tell you the stuff about me.” Tuesday countered, trying to level with him the best she could. “For starters, I don’t know who my father is. I’ve always wanted to know and there’s really no chance of finding out that information now. And it turns out that my condition is a product of my mother’s lifestyle, or so she seems to theorize.”
“You are a product of her lifestyle?” Doctor Frederiksen asked, trying to understand what Tuesday was telling him. “Could you explain that further for me?”
Tuesday felt as if she were walking on thin ice and that she might have said too much already. Despite there being a doctor/patient confidentiality law in place to prevent Doctor Frederiksen from going out and telling all of hers or her mother’s business to anybody, Tuesday felt that the trust between her and her mother was still too fragile to break, even to tell it to her shrink.
“No, I’m not going to get into my mother’s personal business.” Tuesday asserted her position on the matter. “But all I can say is that it isn’t every kid who learns they are a horrendous accident.”
Doctor Frederiksen suddenly seemed more concerned than he previously had been. “If this is something that pertains to you in any way, you should let me know what it is.” He said, probing her further for information. “I can’t help you unless I know the whole truth.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, I would tell you if I could.” Tuesday defended herself as not to give away her mother’s secret. “I don’t want to betray my mother’s trust. We have only begun bonding with each other, and I think that our foundation is still somewhat fragile.”
“If you say so, Miss Moxley.” Doctor Frederiksen said, backing off the topic by changing the subject. “Has anything else happened this week? Would you like to tell me about men in your trees?”
Tuesday spent the next several minutes regaling Doctor Frederiksen with the tale of how she had saved her mother and herself from The Blackbirds, but how the entire neighborhood had awakened to witness the whole ordeal. She explained every moment of it in full detail, including the premonition she had received about the event itself. She recalled how she had flown to The Devil’s City, to the wharf and how she had seen them plan their attack and how she had cut loose with her imagination to stop them. She told him what she had done to keep her and her mother safe during the attack and how the trees wrapped up eighteen of the twenty men and had killed the other two. This piqued Doctor Frederiksen’s curiosity slightly.
“So, you killed two of those men in the process?” Doctor Frederiksen asked, puzzled as to why she would have done this. “I thought that you wanted to save lives.”
“Their blood had to be paid to spare my mother and I.” Tuesday said, not knowing or understanding why it had to be that way. She tried to think about why and kept coming up to a dead end when she thought about it.
“Their blood had to be paid?” Doctor Frederiksen asked, seeking clarification for what Tuesday was saying. “What do you mean by that?”
“I’m not sure.” Tuesday confessed, still trying to recall the exact meaning of why she had said that. “It feels like fate. If I am going to spare somebody who is going to die, then another must take the place of the victim. But I don’t know why.”
“That seems kind of grim.” Doctor Frederiksen said, hoping that Tuesday didn’t actually believe what she was saying. “Where are you getting these ideas from?”
“I . . . I don’t know.” Tuesday said, reaching inside herself for an answer, but it kept eluding her.
“Let’s change the subject, shall we?” Doctor Frederiksen asked, hoping to get into something that didn’t rely on some sort of mysticism to answer questions. “I see you were expelled again.”
Tuesday felt the anger rise inside of her again. “That’s a huge misunderstanding. My Mom is going to take care of that and have that idiot’s job.” Tuesday said. She was actually hoping that she wouldn’t have to talk about this with Doctor Frederiksen until there was some sort of legal thing paperwork put into play so she could back up what she was saying with, cold, hard facts.
“It sounds like you’ve had quite an interesting week.” Doctor Frederiksen stated, proud of the progression his pupil was making. “Are you ready to begin your next session?”
“I’m ready, let’s do it!” Tuesday boldly replied, ready for anything that anybody could throw at her.
Tuesday laid back onto the couch feeling relaxed, and it wasn’t long before she was under Doctor Frederiksen’s hypnosis. She was soon dreaming and she had invited him into her dream again so he could guide her in the use of her power. The pair found themselves on the top of the luxurious Arlington Hotel in downtown of The Devil’s City. Doctor Frederiksen was full of his good advice.
“You’ve learned that emotion holds the key to your power.” Doctor Frederiksen began, trying to explain the negative side of everything that she has learned. “But your anger and your hatred, your dark side, can drive you to do terrible and evil things.”
It was then that Tuesday remembered The Nightmare, and how it had made her kill Jessica. She was confused as to why she couldn’t remember that in the real world, but every time that she dreamed, she knew that she would have to appease The Nightmare with blood to keep it sated. Each time she would save a life, a life would have to be taken keep the balance.
“I think I’ve already met my dark side.” Tuesday told Doctor Frederiksen. “It’s called The Nightmare, and it demands that I take a life for each life that I save. That’s what I mean by paying the blood.”
“Tell me more!” The Doctor seemed intensely interested in what Tuesday had to say. “You seem to have a good understanding of it in the dream world, so why can’t you explain it in the real world?”
“It blocks my memory of interactions with it so I can only remember it when I’m dreaming.” Tuesday proclaimed, looking around warily, hoping not to attract its attention. “Last week, when I saved the man in the alley, it made me take two lives to pay for the one I saved. The intended targets were Jessica and Serina, but I only killed one of them and made the gunman turn the weapon on himself.” Speaking the words brought fear back into Tuesday’s mind. It was the first time that she had admitted that she was responsible for Jessica’s death, and it frightened her to no end that her power could be manipulated through her fear.
And then the sky grew dark again, and Doctor Frederiksen disappeared. Tuesday was not looking forward to what was coming. It wasn’t long until The Nightmare drifted in front of her, full of his usual hatred and malevolence. Before he got the chance to speak, Tuesday stated her position.
“I remember now!” Tuesday screamed at The Nightmare. “You made me kill Jessica, but I saved her sister! I can oppose you, and I will oppose you!”
“Foolish girl!” The Nightmare roared, immediately drilling the fear back into her mind. “Oppose me all you want, but I control this world.”
The pain of The Nightmare’s voice seared into her brain, making it difficult for Tuesday to concentrate or to think beyond the discordance of its hissy shrieks. The banshee wail of its voice was too much for Tuesday to bear as she succumbed to her fear once again. “I have someone for you to kill.” The Nightmare commanded gleefully. “And I don’t think that you’ll protest this victim too much.”
“I will not kill for you!” Tuesday managed to say, trying to speak her words into reality. Tuesday had learned from another therapist she had once seen about the power of speaking words into reality, though the technique didn’t really work for her as well as she
had hoped it would at the time. Over the years, she had seen a large variety of therapists with several different ideas, none who were as successful as Doctor Frederiksen had been.
It didn’t take Doctor Frederiksen to realize that he’d been kicked from Tuesday’s dream again. He found himself taking clear and concise notes on Tuesday’s REM patterns and her physical movements while she was under the hypnosis. He had thought of waking her up so that she would not be affected by whatever it was that was about to transpire in her dream world, but had feared in the precious seconds since he’d been removed from the dream that it had quite possibly already occurred. Many dreams only last mere seconds in the real world but seem to stretch on for a what the dreamer perceives to be a normal amount of time in their dream. And while Tuesday had been thrashing momentarily, it had ended and Doctor Frederiksen thought it best to document any change in her physical condition over the next several moments.
Tuesday’s reality in her dream had changed from the rooftop she had recently been standing on to the waiting area of the office at Cadence Falls High School. Every vivid detail was there, brought to life by Tuesday’s mind, The Nightmare floating beside her, revealing her next target, who walked out of the door at the end of the hallway, holding a small stack of file folders.
Upon seeing Patrick McCauley, Tuesday felt her rage and anger building within her. He had that same smug grin on his face when he had expelled her only the previous day, and the more Tuesday looked at it, the more her hatred of him festered in her heart. And then Tuesday realized something. Her hatred gave her the ability to overcome her fear. The voice of The Nightmare was significantly less damaging to her when she was feeling hatred toward another being.
“I’ve brought you a gift, my dear.” The Nightmare taunted her, knowing full well that the rage and loathing that Tuesday possessed for this man was beyond all sense of reason. Tuesday knew it too.
“We don’t have to be enemies.” The Nightmare hissed, goading her into doing what he wanted to do. “Give in to your revulsion for this man, and let me have him.”
Tuesday realized that The Nightmare was giving her permission to kill Principal McCauley, and it was an urge that she had great difficulty fighting back. “I can’t kill him, its wrong.” Tuesday said, not even truly believing it for herself.
“We could work together.” The Nightmare explained, still tempting Tuesday to kill Patrick McCauley. “You can save the good people who deserve to be saved, and you could give me the ones who aren’t worth saving.”
Is that how it really worked? Was this temptation placed before her feet to make the world a better place? “I’m fourteen years old.” Tuesday thought to herself. “Who am I to say who lives and who dies?” Tuesday wondered why that responsibility was being placed upon her. It’s too much for one person to determine who lives and who dies, based on the whims of a dark figure who craves souls. If she were to use her power to indiscriminately kill for The Nightmare, what would be the cost? What is the measure of a man? What makes a man good, or what makes a man bad, and who was she to judge those qualities in a human?
Tuesday’s thoughts turned to her mother. For years, she had been addicted to drugs, she sold herself to random men, had been involved in many thefts, and used people for what they could do for her instead of valuing them for the people they truly were. There was no doubt in Tuesday’s mind that her mother had been a bad person, and had done some very bad things in her life. Was her Mom the kind of person that The Nightmare wanted her to reap? What if she did reap souls like her mother for The Nightmare? What if she had reaped her mother? Megan Moxley had been given a tremendous second chance in life and was working to change the trajectory of the path she was on to another path. Shouldn’t everybody have a shot at redemption? Tuesday knew by killing the very people that The Nightmare wanted her to kill, that those people would never get the opportunity to redeem themselves. They’ve done bad things, sure. But had their sins warranted a death penalty?
“I want to show you something.” The Nightmare said to Tuesday, as if he had heard her internal dialogue. “We will come back to Mr. McCauley.”
The scene shifted to another school, one that Tuesday recognized was in The Devil’s City. This was where she feared she would have to go to school. The school was not as nice, or as clean or organized as Cadence Falls High School was, and the students seemed a little more aggressive and vulgar than the kids she was used to attending school with. The Nightmare walked Tuesday over to a darkened and secluded nook in the hallway, where a boy about Tuesday’s age sat alone, bruises on his arms and face, and hoping that nobody would notice him on that day.
Tuesday recognized the look on the boy’s face. He had been relentlessly bullied by the other kids to the point that solitude was preferential to contact with other humans. She knew this feeling well, and she felt sorry for the boy. “Why are you showing me this?” Tuesday asked curiously, wondering what the connection was.
“His name is David Peatross.” The Nightmare stated, sounding compassionate instead of menacing. “He will one day be responsible for the deaths of many people.”
“How many people?” Tuesday responded, doubt clearly in her voice. “Why do you think so?”
“He has internalized his rage, allowing it to fester within his heart.” The Nightmare returned, making a wide sweeping gesture toward the boy with his hand. “One day he will unleash it and will kill others.”
Tuesday was beside herself. She recognized and understood this boy too well, and couldn’t see that he would lash out in a way that would end the lives of people. But then she thought about the anger and grief she had internalized, and that it drove her to nurture and foster a community of hatred against everybody she had ever known, until recently. She pitied the boy, but in the twinkling of an eye, she understood for just a second how he might become what The Nightmare said he would become.
“He suffered the same kind of authoritarian abuse that you did.” The Nightmare commented. “He has suffered greatly and will kill other people one day, unless you kill him first.”
“How many people will he kill?” Tuesday said, staring at the boy, the rage growing inside her again. “And why will he kill them?”
The Nightmare was dismissive of Tuesday’s questions and answered as vaguely as he could. “Who can say how many? It has yet to be determined.” His hissy voice sounded almost normal, sympathetic. “He will kill them because he will have completely lost faith in humans.”
“And this could have been my future?” Tuesday asked, pondering the possibilities to herself, wondering if she could have been pushed to that point.
“This is what Patrick McCauley was molding you to be.” The Nightmare reacted to Tuesday’s question. “You weren’t the first, and you will not be the last.”
Tuesday stood before the nook where David Peatross was hiding from the other students who were walking by, tears forming in her eyes. These were not tears of sadness, they were tears of fury, and she could feel it budding inside of her, growing into a malice that was not easily tamable. Suddenly, something within Tuesday changed, and she found herself seeking justice for not only what had been done to her, but for the other nameless faces out there, the ones who never had the power to stand up for themselves, and the forthcoming students who never would.
“I will be the last.” Tuesday said, her voice lowering to a menacing tone. “This ends now! Take me back, I have business with Principal McCauley!”
In an instant, they found themselves back at Cadence Falls High School, where Principal McCauley was about to lecture the student body at what appeared to be an impromptu student rally. He had just gotten up from his seat to go to the microphone to address the crowd of students. Tuesday was primed and ready to strike at him, ready to take her personal revenge for years of damage at the hands of this brute. But suddenly, curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she stopped cold in her tracks to hear what he had
to say.
Principal McCauley passionately expressed to the student assembly about the greatness of the school and how the factors that held the school back were an object of the past. To Tuesday, it seemed like more posturing and preening, per usual with McCauley, and just hearing his awful voice was enough to make her want to slash him into tiny pieces with nothing but a thought. But she would have to wait for the opportune moment to strike at him, as it would be unfair to the students in the crowd to witness the gruesome demise that she was still planning in her mind. It was always McCauley’s style to preach about how perfect everything is, and how he can make things better for the students, as if in his mind, he was some sort of a messiah. The real problem with him was that he always took much longer to make a point than he needed to, and that was mostly because he had to take the time to pat himself on the back. In that sense, he lived up to his name.
And then McCauley got around to the primary element of his speech, the very reason he had called the assembly together. He had spoken about how he had finally gotten rid of the last of the disruptive schoolchildren in the institute and how Cadence Falls High School was going to live up to a higher standard. Tuesday couldn’t believe the words she was hearing coming from the mouth of the lying vermin. And then Patrick McCauley made his fatal mistake, he mentioned Tuesday by name.
“We won’t have to deal with drama from kids like Tuesday Moxley anymore.” McCauley shouted into the microphone. “Her melodramatic fairy tales will no longer disrupt this student body!”
At that point, Tuesday stopped thinking about what the students would witness and began acting, and she was going to take her time to make certain that she was going to put Patrick McCauley through as much suffering as he had put her through. While she hadn’t really thought about a plan, she decided to improvise her approach and be as supernaturally impracticable about it as she could, but would create a masterpiece of a visual effect.
The first thing Tuesday thought about Principal McCauley’s big toe, and visualized it bending back upon the top of his foot. No sooner than she thought it, Principal McCauley screamed out in intense pain, having heard the toe crack and break inside his shoe. A few seconds later, another toe fractured, and then a finger splintered, and another finger broke, as he tumbled precariously to the hardwood gymnasium floor, writhing in excruciating agony. The other students were stunned and confused as to what was transpiring before them, and some disorganized murmuring in the audience was the only other sound beyond McCauley’s cries of discomfort. Tuesday felt a small amount of satisfaction watching the person who had persecuted her for so many years at last getting his comeuppance. The Nightmare was also pleased.
Tuesday then slowly grinded all the bones in his body into a fine powder, making any sort of movement impossible for him as the shape left his body and he became a pile of skin and organs on the floor. Students eyes went wide in revulsion, unable to comprehend what was transpiring right before their eyes, and began shoving their way down the stands to escape for fear that they might suffer the same fate. But they could not abscond from the scene. A thick, clear glass partition had somehow blocked off the bottom of the bleachers, caging the students in so they could only watch in disgust at what was happening to their Principal.
The double doors exploded open at the far side of the gym and a great pack of black wolves came running into the expanse, their teeth gnashing through their snarls and growls. While there were other faculty in the gymnasium, the wolves only seemed fixated on the most helpless of the targets, as predators who hunt in groups often do. In this case the hunters were after the feeble, formless body of Patrick McCauley. The lead wolf reached the blob that was once Principal McCauley in seconds, and tore into his flesh, ripping a large chunk out of him, he let out an earsplitting scream of absolute anguish, as the wolf swallowed the gratuitous sized piece of meat it had just removed from the host. The remainder of the pack converged on him, as one of the larger males went directly for his throat, silencing McCauley’s shrieks and reducing them to a wet, bloody gurgle. The entire assembly was in complete shock as to what was going on, and were in total disbelief of what they were witnessing, as many of the students pounded on the impenetrable glass barrier that blocked their way to freedom from this horrific nightmare. The faculty wanted to help, but would not venture close enough to the wolves for fear of being consumed themselves. Probably out of all the faculty present, Tuesday was delighted the most by the sight of a large wet spot forming on the front of Jimmy Waite’s pants. She laughed maniacally at the brute who had only been following orders. “Not so tough now, are you?” Tuesday joyfully thought to herself. She stood in the center of the maelstrom, feeding off the fear she was feeling from the students and faculty who were present to witness this demonstration of her supremacy. If any one of them had actually been able to see her presence, they would have been completely terrified of her
Tuesday turned her attention back to Principal McCauley and would not allow him to die until the wolves had consumed enough of him that keeping him alive any longer would be naturally impossible. And when the wolves had reached the point where they were about to finish off their prey, Tuesday granted Principal McCauley the mercy of stopping his heart. She could literally visualize her hand reaching into his chest, wrapping her steely fingers around it, crushing it, and stopping it completely and utterly. The Nightmare found itself to even be a little disgusted by the effort that Tuesday had put into her first intentional kill, but reveled in her ability to take a life.
Tuesday looked at The Nightmare and screamed at it, “I will not kill for you! If I kill, it’s because I want to do it!”
“Your terms are acceptable.” The Nightmare replied, waiting for the wrath he would be able to inflict upon the soul of Patrick McCauley. “You will have no memory of this in the world of the living.”
The Nightmare faded away and the world seemed to snap back into focus once again. The scene shifted again from Cadence Falls High School back to the rooftop where she had previously been standing with Doctor Frederiksen. She took a great deal of time on the top of that roof to understand the consequences of her choice. Principal McCauley was going to die, if he hadn’t already, and she was fairly certain that there was nothing she could do to change that now. Even if she had wanted to, The Nightmare would intervene and make it virtually impossible for her to do so, so there was no point in trying that. She sat on that building and wept for quite a long period. She wasn’t aware of the passing of time, only of her actions. Her regret wasn’t tied to the victim she had chosen, it was linked to the action itself. What concerned her the most was that she would enjoy killing, and that she would make justifications to kill others in the name of justice for those who couldn’t defend themselves. Tuesday knew that she had only scratched the surface with her new-found abilities, and if she couldn’t control the emotions she felt for people, then there would be a good chance that she would be doing more killing. And she wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted that responsibility.
Tuesday knew that she could stop wars by dispatching world leaders, or even entire armies. She thought about the good that could come from her power, about how she could change the course of human history with only a thought. She could cause crops to grow in barren lands to feed multitudes of starving people, and make rivers flow wild, teeming with fish and wildlife, ripe for consumption. After thinking for a good long while, Tuesday realized that there probably wasn’t a single problem on the face of the Earth that she couldn’t solve for mankind.
But then Tuesday realized that she was only a teenage girl, and that she wanted to live the life of a normal teenage girl. And while some teenage girls harbor thoughts of harming teachers and school faculty, none that she knew of ever had actually done it. This thought gnawed at her mind. She reminded herself that she was young, and that she had the most amazing boyfriend in the entire world.
“Oh my gosh!!” The thought suddenly occurr
ed to Tuesday. “Jason was at that assembly! He saw everything!”
Nothing had ever affected Tuesday the way that the realization that Jason had witnessed her destructive capabilities first hand. She began to panic, breaking down and crying like she never had before, fearing that he would know and understand what had happened and she would lose him forever. She just wanted to wake up, and put the whole ordeal behind her.
It wasn’t long before she found herself waking up back on the couch of Doctor Frederiksen’s office, an uneasy feeling creeping in her stomach coupled with grogginess and confusion. Tuesday’s hands were shaking and she was exceptionally disoriented. When a young girl feels like that, there’s only one thing that will make her feel better.
“I need my mother!” Tuesday cried out, the sick feeling in her stomach not subsiding.
V
FEELINGS OF DREAD
Doctor Frederiksen looked down at Tuesday with a deep look of concern upon his face and could tell that something was clearly wrong. “What is it?” He asked, trying to ascertain what was happening. “What’s wrong?”
Tuesday wasn’t receptive to help from him right then as she reasserted her demand, “I don’t know, I can’t explain it. I just need to talk to my mother!”
Doctor Frederiksen was not one to give up easily though, “Maybe I can help you, if you tell me what’s wrong.” He said, sounding as soothing as he could.
“Nothing against you, Doctor.” Tuesday made her point plain and clear, “I just need my mother!”
Doctor Frederiksen had a strange look on his face, one that Tuesday wasn’t sure how to interpret. It was a look of both confusion and of anger. It was the kind of look that somebody gets when they feel betrayed. It was a look that melted into a vengeful little smile, and then back into his wizened, kindly features. He speaks to her again, his voice coming across as paternal, trying to give her the guidance she is looking for.
“Miss Moxley, I am not your enemy.” Doctor Frederiksen said reassuringly. “I am only here to help you.”
“I know you are, Doctor.” Tuesday replied dismissively. “But right now, I am scared to death, and I need my mother!”
Doctor Frederiksen nodded his head, noting that there was nothing more that he could do for her on that day. He walked over to the door of the office and opened it for her. “I guess I’ll see you next time then?” Tuesday nodded her head to the affirmative and ran out the door to the waiting area. She ran out of The Millwork Tavern and down the street to Tuck’s Diner where her mother was working.
Megan could sense there was something wrong with her daughter the moment she walked in the door. As soon as Tuesday spied her mother, she ran directly to her and clung to her in a way that made Megan feel like something was truly wrong with her daughter. Megan requested a break, prepared Tuesday a mug of hot cocoa, and brought it over to a booth where the two of them could talk.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Megan asked, hoping to sate her curiosity about her daughter’s presence. “You look like you’re frightened. What’s wrong?”
“I am, Mom!” Tuesday replied, looking frantic and jittery. “I feel that something dreadful has happened, or will happen, and somehow I am responsible for it.”
“That’s not possible.” Megan scoffed at the suggestion. “How are you responsible for the things going on? I thought that’s what you and Doctor Frederiksen were working on?”
“We are.” Tuesday replied, her teary eyes darted back and forth, as if she were trying to remember something. “But I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.”
“What do you mean, something isn’t right?” Megan asked, seeking clarification for Tuesday’s remarks.
“I don’t know.” Tuesday confessed, looking confused. “It’s like I can’t remember what we have been working on. It’s frustrating because things have happened, and I know in my heart that I know something about it, but I’m not able to remember things. I’ve had two sessions now where I can only remember flashes of what has happened.”
“I knew that hypnosis thing would butcher your brain!” Megan insisted, her concern was mixed with the indignation that she was right. “What do you want me to do about it? I don’t know much about all of this therapeutic psychobabble.”
“Could you talk to Doctor Frederiksen for me?” Tuesday meekly asked, sipping on her cocoa. “Could you relay some of the fear and doubt that I am having.”
“Oh yeah, I’ll talk to him.” Megan said, possessing a sense of self confidence that Tuesday hadn’t heard from her mother in a long time. “I think it is time that we ended our sessions with him.”
“No, not quite yet.” Tuesday replied, shaking her head. “I need a couple of more sessions, and I know that I’m making progress. I can feel it. Right now, I just can’t help but feeling that there are things that I just cannot remember.”
The two of them sat quietly in the booth, enjoying the remainder of Megan’s break. Megan had never felt closer to her daughter than she had at that moment in time.
VI
COPING WITH GUILT
Tuesday left Tuck’s diner sometime later, after having consumed copious amounts of the cocoa provided by her mother. The best thing about the cocoa at Tuck’s was the refills, which Tuesday took full advantage of every chance she got. While her mother helped to set her mind at ease, she felt that she needed a second opinion, so after she left Tuck’s Diner, her destination was Jason’s house.
When Tuesday had arrived later at Jason’s house, she knocked on the door, which was answered by a woman she assumed was Jason’s mother. “Hello, Mrs. Alkali.” Tuesday said, mustering up her most respectful and complimentary greeting. “Is Jason here?”
“Oh, hi. You must be Tuesday!” Jason’s mother cheerfully said. “Come on in, I’m Lauren, let me go get him. He came home from school early today because he wasn’t feeling well.
Lauren Alkali was in her late forties, and appeared to be in excellent shape for her age. She had lived a happy and fulfilled life with her husband, moving around the country, going wherever Jim’s job had taken them. It had always been her dream to care for underprivileged and challenged children, and took a compassionate approach to doing so. She was very careful to raise her own boys to be an example to other kids, instead of tearing down others for their mistakes. This was evident in the way Jason had interacted with Tuesday. Tuesday had noticed it too, and had made a mental note that when she was going to have children one day that she would make the same conscious effort to raise worthy and respectful humans, as opposed to many of the people she had the unfortunate opportunity to encounter. Tuesday wasn’t certain what had brought the Alkali family to her small corner of the world, but every day she grew more and more thankful that they had connected. It was the beginning of a change that she knew was going to affect her over the course of a lifetime.
A minute later, Jason came down the stairs, and despite how he was feeling, was ecstatic at seeing Tuesday. The two of them willfully embraced one another, just happy to spend any kind of time together.
“I need to talk to you.” Tuesday told Jason. “I am having problems with my therapy, and need another opinion.”
“Alright, let’s go into the kitchen.” Jason answered, motioning her to a room off to the left of the entry way. “I’d be happy to listen.”
Over the course of the next several minutes, Tuesday relayed everything she could recollect about her therapy sessions, the flashes she remembered from the Jackson house and the snippets she could recall from the gymnasium.
“What happened at the gym?” Jason asked in a puzzled manner. “I haven’t heard about anything.”
“I can’t remember.” Tuesday retorted, her sense of urgency increasing. “If it hasn’t happened yet, it will tomorrow. Please, just stay home from school tomorrow, I can’t remember what will transpire, but something is going to happen in the gym tomorrow.”
“That shouldn’
t be a problem.” Jason said, coughing a little as the words tried to escape his lips. “Let me think about what you’ve said, and come see me tomorrow, you know, to check up on me.”
“I’d like that.” Tuesday said. “It’s getting late, so I had better head back to my place, my Mom will be home soon.”
“I heard you patched things up with Serina.” Jason said as Tuesday was standing up to leave. “She could use a friend with everything she’s been through lately.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too.” Tuesday responded, shaking her head in agreement. “And honestly, I’m happy that’s one less thing I have to deal with.”
“You are an amazing girl, Tuesday.” Jason proclaimed, that addictive smile crossing his face. “I wish I had just a little bit of the strength that you have.”
Tuesday’s face became slightly flushed hearing these words coming from Jason. “Aww, thanks!” She declared, trying to brush off the compliment before she became even more embarrassed. “I am only doing what I think any person should do for another person.” She reached out and grabbed Jason’s hand, locking fingers with his as the two began to move toward the front door of the residence.
The two of them came together in a long hug which lasted quite a while. Their hands slid apart as Tuesday stepped back and outside the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mister.” She announced, looking forward to what the day might bring for her.
As she walked down the driveway from Jason’s house, it was his turn to stand in the door, watching her disappear into the darkness. He stood there smiling for a good while after she disappeared.
When Tuesday arrived home, she had discovered that her mother wasn’t there yet when she remembered that this was to be the night of her date with Douglas Downe. She felt a genuine happiness for her mother. It wasn’t long ago that Megan’s life had been completely unmanageable, and now that she was clean, she had more clarity than ever before. Things that didn’t mean much to her before were suddenly the most important things in her life, and she was becoming a functioning human being, with a complete emotional spectrum. Tuesday was exceedingly proud of the progress her mother had made, and wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
Spending the evening in her room, Tuesday took the time to study from some books she had in a stack in her room. She loved learning things, but reading often made her drowsy, especially in the evening hours. It wasn’t long before her thoughts drifted, and she soon fell fast asleep.
Soon, Tuesday found herself wide-awake in her dream, remembering the gruesome details of events that would be coming soon. She went back over the details of the events, hoping to think of a way to alert herself as to what would be happening. She knew that she didn’t want herself or Jason physically anywhere near Cadence Falls High School, so she needed to think of a way to prevent that very thing from happening. On one hand, she was happy that it was set back a day, that way she had time to prepare herself for what was to come. She was also thankful that Jason wasn’t feeling so well, and that he would be staying home.
Tuesday began to wonder what the difference was in the triggering mechanisms between what had happened with Jessica Jackson, and what was going to happen with Principal McCauley. Jessica’s death seemed to happen in real-time, running concurrently with her dream, or at the very least she dreamt it minutes before it had happened. The same was the case with The Blackbirds, she slept, and found herself flying around and took appropriate action on the matter. There was no way to tell, but she surmised that she had changed the future in both cases, even if she had dreamed them only minutes before they occurred. The dream about Principal McCauley was clearly set an entire day later. Tuesday thought long and hard on the problem, and wondered if there was a way to pinpoint an exact moment in time to set her dreams in. She knew it would require a context to place her dreams into, and she would have to have some sort of understanding of that moment, and the people who inhabited it. So far, her dreams seemed to be on autopilot, directing her to moments where tragedy occurred.
Speaking of tragedy, she wondered if she would be paid a visit by The Nightmare. She was really learning to hate him, and knew that without his goading, it was likely that she never would have killed Principal McCauley. The Nightmare had opened the door to her hatred and let it out to play, and that was something that Tuesday wasn’t sure she could ever allow again. Even in her dream, where she could remember things, she was still missing some fragments from both incidents, the one with Jessica, and now even more so with the forthcoming incident with Patrick McCauley. If there was a way to access that dream again, and change it, she might be spared the guilt of taking McCauley’s life, but the more she thought about it, the less she could accomplish on that front. It seemed to her that his fate was sealed. Tuesday desired that she had Doctor Frederiksen beside her to help her make sense of everything. He had a way of making her understand, teaching her how to do all the things that her brain wouldn’t do for itself. She had learned one thing without Doctor Frederiksen though, that her hatred gave her the ability to overcome The Nightmare to a certain degree. She found that the stronger that her hated toward somebody was, the less control that The Nightmare had when she exerted that hatred, as if it were fueling her and giving her the power to break free.
The thought had occurred to Tuesday that if an emotion as strong as hatred could cause her to break free, could there be other emotions that would give her the power to do it? She hadn’t felt anything as strong as the hatred she felt for Principal McCauley. He had been pushing her for years, since she first began having her problems in third grade. He had been relentless in his mistreatment of her, to the point of being abusive. There was a good chance that Principal McCauley had a heavy hand in swaying the public opinion of her. Tuesday had always felt that he never liked her, from the moment they met, her earliest memories of him always seemed as if he had nothing but contempt for her. Even if she could change the event, she couldn’t guarantee that she wouldn’t try again at another time. And that was what really scared her. If she had harbored this much hatred for a human being, and could end their life in any way she could imagine, what could stop her from becoming exactly what The Nightmare was apparently grooming her to become? She needed some clarity on the matter, but didn’t know where to begin. And what was it that The Nightmare had told her, that if she wouldn’t cooperate, she would force her to kill somebody she truly cared about. Tuesday couldn’t endure the thought of being driven to murder Jason or her mother, that just wasn’t going to happen.
Tuesday’s thoughts turned to young David Peatross, and so she flew to The Devil’s City and perched outside his window, where he was sleeping peacefully. She envied him in that moment, the ability to sleep and to put all the world behind her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept that peacefully. Probably, in David’s world, sleep was the purest form of escapism he was able to engage in. He spent his days being bullied by other kids because of the choices his parents had made. Like Megan, David’s father was an alcoholic, but where Megan had never struck Tuesday more than to give her a spanking, David’s father was physically abusive to him. Tuesday could see so much of herself in this boy, and wondered where he found the strength to carry on. She longed to look into his future and wondered how he might turn out. She squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them again, she found herself looking at a bearded man who somewhat resembled David, though the light had gone out of his eyes, and he was ordering the execution of other people.
Could Tuesday have been set upon this path as well? Could she become an instrument of evil? She wondered if the deaths of Jessica Jackson and Patrick McCauley would degrade her spirit to the point where she might commit real world evil. One thing she learned was that she could change the future, and if she could set David on another path, there might be hope for some sort of redemption for her. Snapping back to the present, or possibly minutes before the present, she found herself b
ack outside of David’s room, his father bursting through the door, drunk and belligerent, with a belt clenched in his fist, intent upon beating his son with it. Tuesday was not about to let that happen.
Tuesday slowed down the time around her to give herself the time to think of a good alternative to killing David’s father and decided that the best course of action was to change his genetic makeup in such a way where he would no longer feel the addiction of alcohol. Tuesday reached deep inside his body, and began to try to understand what his DNA, and how he had been predisposed to the dependence. Taking a moment, she repaired the mutation in his genetics, and then reprogrammed his brain to let go of the desire and need for the drink completely. She bled the compulsion from his system so thoroughly that it stopped him dead in his tracks, looked down and didn’t understand what it was that he was doing with a belt in one hand and a bottle of liquor in the other. He remembered all of the terrible things he had done to his son, and did not understand why he would have chosen alcohol over his son.
Tuesday beamed with pride, knowing the special gift that David was about to receive. She had recently began building a relationship with her own mother after an addiction, so she fully appreciated the happiness that David was going to experience. The kid deserved it.
Tuesday looked around, fully expecting an intervention from The Nightmare, but it did not happen. Feeling satisfied that she had done a great deed, she flew off into the night, looking for other people she could help. Tuesday knew that she had to make a conscious choice to keep her hatred under control and to not allow it to let her kill any more people. If she could continue to help people like David Peatross, Tuesday thought that there might be hope for her own soul.
Tuesday suddenly recalled the clock on the wall of the gymnasium, having caught a glimpse of it at the very moment when the wolves burst through the door. The clock read 1:56 PM. It suddenly occurred to her that she could write a letter and leave it on her desk. She visualized herself back in her room, scrawling on a post-it note on her desk, a message that simply said:
Jason’s house, take chicken soup, 1:45 PM.
And Tuesday placed it prominently where she would see it in the morning. When the wolves came to attack, She and Jason would be at his house, enjoying chicken soup and would hear about the attack the way the rest of the community did, on the local news.
