Sandcastle for Pegasus

by Bob Avey

  The idea of going into the office alone with Doctor Stewart felt like a bad decision to Martin.

  He had to find out what was going on, though, if Doctor Stewart was involved, and he had to do it without alerting the doctor to his true intentions.

  The offices were dark until Doctor Stewart turned on the lights. Of course, they would be. It was only 7:30 a.m., and the office wouldn’t officially open to the public until 9:00.

  “If you don’t mind, have a seat in the waiting area,” Doctor Stewart said. “We’ll keep this as informal as possible. It should make it easier for both of us.”

  The doctor was soft spoken and intelligent, and yet Martin thought he detected a disturbing edge to his demeanor. Martin settled into the same chair he’d used during Luke’s visit. The same rips in the plastic decorated the arm coverings, the same black scuff marks riddled the floor. Not much was different, except no one else but the doctor was here.

  Coming back into the room and handing Martin a clipboard, the doctor said, “It’s not that much really, just better to get it out of the way in a more relaxed atmosphere.”

  It was the same questionnaire Martin had filled out earlier. Or had it been later? It was confusing. And this was the second time Doctor Stewart had referred to things being easier this way. He hadn’t said it would be easier without Luke, but Martin knew that’s what he meant.

  Doctor Stewart sat in the next chair over in a casual manner. He had, however, slipped a white lab coat over his clothes. “Could I ask you a possibly unrelated question?”

  Unrelated to what? Martin shrugged. “I guess so.”

  “I’m curious as to who that gentleman was you were talking to in the parking lot this morning?”

  Already busy filling out the paperwork, Martin paused mid-sentence on an answer. “You saw him?”

  “Yes, from a distance. It doesn’t matter, really, just a curiosity, an occupational hazard, I’m afraid.”

  “I don’t know who he was,” Martin said. “He was acting strange, like he was lost or out of place. I was just trying to help.”

  “Strange, you say? Could you be a little more specific?”

  “It’s hard to describe. The conversation, if you could call it that, was completely one-sided. I asked him who he was, but he didn’t answer. It was like he wanted to but couldn’t quite make the connection. I don’t know if you noticed, but when he left, he was driving erratically, like he was intoxicated or something.”

  Letting out a deep breath, as if frustrated with the results of a patient, the doctor leaned back in the chair. “I think I had things a bit confused before, but now I believe I’m beginning to more clearly understand the case. Tell me, Martin, are you aware of what’s happening?”

  A current of fear slipped up Martin’s spine. Of course, he was aware. What kind of question was that? It could only mean one thing. The doctor wasn’t being fooled at all. He was on to Martin and knew his being there was more than a coincidence.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You actually don’t remember any of this, do you?”

  He remembered all right. Trouble was, he didn’t want Doctor Stewart to know that. Then again, maybe he should tell him. The doctor, while slightly distant and aloof, didn’t seem dangerous or threatening.

  “And what if I did remember, Doctor Stewart? What would that mean?”

  “It’s difficult to pin down at this point. Perhaps this will help. Does the name Angela Stewart mean anything to you?”

  Martin searched his memory and then shook his head. “It doesn’t ring a bell. Why do you ask?”

  “How about Sylvia Stewart, does that jog your memory?”

  “No,” Martin said. “But each person you asked about has the same last name as you. Are they family members?”

  “Perhaps they could be, if it helps you to think about it that way.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about it in the first place. You’re the one who brought it up.”

  “Tell me, Martin, how long have you been experiencing these problems?”

  Funny you should ask, Doctor Stewart. As a matter of fact, it all started right here.

  “What problems are you referring to?”

  “Come on, Martin. I might be able to help you if you will cooperate.”

  “Help me with what?”

  “Don’t play games, Mr. Taylor. You know full well I’m referring to your delusion of reliving this day.”

  Martin fought back an urge to just blurt it all out, tell the doctor everything. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, “but something tells me you might be experiencing similar problems. Otherwise, how would you have known to bring it up?”

  “I know because I’m a psychologist, Martin. And what you’re going through is not as uncommon as you might think.”

  Martin checked his watch. Only a few minutes had passed since he’d come into Doctor Stewart’s office. It seemed much longer. “I appreciate your concern,” he said, “but I really should be going. I need to go home and get Luke, make sure he’s here and ready for his appointment. By the way, how long do you think it will take for Luke to go through the examination?”

  “Less than an hour I’m sure. However, we can reschedule his appointment for later in the day, or even move it forward a few days. We have more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.”

  Pretending to be calm and unconcerned, Martin glanced at the door. He didn’t think it was locked. Doctor Stewart had entered the office in front of him, and he couldn’t recall the doctor turning back to throw any locks or engage the keys. He’d simply turned on the lights and walked in.

  “What matters would that be?” Martin asked.

  “We need to take care of your delusional state of mind, of course. I’d be neglectful in my duties letting you walk out of here, not knowing what the consequences might be.”

  Doctor Stewart looked to be in pretty good shape, but Martin might beat him to the door, especially if he could catch him off guard. ”I don’t think I am delusional,” he said.

  A sinking sensation snaked through Martin. Was he to spend the rest of his life reliving slightly different versions of the moments surrounding Luke’s appointment? Having made the short jump at Tanner’s place, the small accomplishment in stopping the shooter, he desperately clung to hope of doing something like that again. He needed a distraction, anything that might gain Doctor Stewart’s attention for long enough to allow him to get through the door. Once he was outside, he could run like hell and find some cover, somewhere to hide, giving him time to think things through.

  And then what, Martin, just keep running, keep hiding? Where will that get you?

  Doctor Stewart rose out of the chair and stood, looking down at Martin. “You could be right,” he said, “but wouldn’t you feel better, getting a professional opinion? Be honest with yourself, Martin, and with me. Unusual things have been happening, haven’t they? You haven’t been yourself lately. Why don’t you relax and tell me all about it?”

  Martin nodded. His current situation was not going to improve and would likely only get worse. He had to do something. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “But I need to call Luke’s mother and let her know his appointment has been rescheduled.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll have my receptionist take care of that. He will be in soon. He’s very efficient, don’t you think?”

  “I’m sure he is. Say, you wouldn’t happen to have some coffee around here, would you? I could sure go for a cup right now.”

  The doctor smiled. “I think you’re just trying to get me out of the room for a moment.”

  You got that right
, Martin thought. “Why would I do that?”

  “You tell me. Better yet, let me guess. As soon as I’m out of sight, you’re planning on making a dash for the door. Don’t play mind games with a psychologist, Mr. Taylor. You will lose every time.”

  “Maybe so, but you can’t hold me here against my will. It’s against the law.”

  “So, now you’ve become an expert on the law as well? Don’t be so sure about that, Martin. It could be that, in my professional opinion, you’ve become a threat to yourself and those around you. I was only trying to do my job until the authorities got here.”

  “What authorities? You haven’t called anybody. And something tells me you won’t do that because you’re more afraid of them than I am.”

  Doctor Stewart laughed, not just a snicker, but a genuine expression of what he must have thought hilarious.

  Martin took the chance. Stewart’s frivolity probably wasn’t the break he was looking for, but it might well be the only one he’d get. He jumped from the chair, shoved Stewart against the wall, and then bolted for the door.

  Moving fast, Martin reached the doors and twisted the handle. Through the glass, he could see the brick steps leading to the parking lot, and the green shrubbery in the gardens beside the walkway, but the doors did not open. Somehow, Doctor Stewart had locked them.

  The biggest fear Martin had was getting into a physical confrontation with someone. When he was in school, some kids had been taunting him. He’d had enough one day, so he fought back, laid into one of them. After that, they all ganged on him and had nearly beaten him to death. He’d spent two days in the hospital. He’d been terrified of fighting ever since.

  Stewart had already regained his footing and was coming forward fast.

  They were doors, but they were glass doors. Martin didn’t think an entrance to a doctor’s office, glass or not, would be constructed to leave it vulnerable to breakage, but he didn’t let that stop him. He took a few quick steps back, and then he lunged forward with all his might.

  The doors popped open. Martin rolled to the ground but scrambled to his feet and stumbled clumsily down the brick stairs. When he reached the parking lot, he ran. He hadn’t known he could still move that quickly. He ran until he reached the corner of the building. Then, he turned and ran along the side. He didn’t know where he was going, just that he had to put some distance between himself and Doctor Stewart. At some point, figuring he was only running deeper into the complex, he turned left and then left again when he rounded the next building. A few minutes later, winded and exhausted, he paused.

  He had made it back to the parking lot, but he was still quite a distance from Stewart’s office. He didn’t see the doctor or anyone else. What he did see gave him a small amount of hope. Sitting on the far end of the lot was the Audi. No other cars were around it. It was still too early. He’d be an easy target if he went for it now. However, if he waited until the lot filled up, he could probably get to the car unnoticed. Not far away was a small garden area. Martin made his way to the garden, sat upon the grass, and waited out of sight.

  There was no getting around it. He was caught in a time loop. The gravity of his situation settled over him like a bad diagnosis. The only way out of this was for him to do as Tanner had suggested: find the starting point and reverse whatever had pulled him into this. He sat there on the grass for a long time, covered in more fear than he’d felt since his beating ordeal at school. He’d been snatched from his happy life and thrown against his will into a nightmare.

  The sound of voices caught Martin’s attention, and he rose to his feet.

  It was only some unknown people strolling easily across the lot, but it was enough to cause Martin to think of his family. It was then that a new fear rose in him. With him reliving the past, what was to become of the future? More importantly, what was to become of Susan and Luke? Susan played a good role of being tough and resilient, but Martin knew her better than anyone. She was tough and she was strong, but when she met her match, she had a way of crumbling and crumbling hard. Martin had no choice but to make things right for her and for Luke.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  MARTIN

  May 3, 2014, 7:00 p.m.

  As soon as Martin took a sip of beer, he knew something was wrong. It had been years since he’d drank, apart from the beer he’d had with Tanner, and now here he was, in a restaurant, sitting alone at a table and holding a frosted mug in his hand. He couldn’t recall having fallen asleep, or even having been asleep, but the dreamlike quality of his surroundings could not be discounted. The last he remembered, he had been in the parking lot outside of Doctor Stewart’s office, hoping Stewart wouldn’t find him.

  The large windows of the restaurant looked out over a small, manmade lake, and a beautiful reflection of blues and reds and greens drew Martin’s attention. It was just a highway sign, its rendition blurred by the water, but that only acted to add to the romance of the evening. It was the restaurant where he and Susan had dined on her birthday. The trouble was, it had been a few years ago. He couldn’t pin it down exactly. He’d never been that good at remembering dates. The irony struck him, and for a moment it seemed almost funny. There was nothing humorous about the situation. And where was Susan?

  The answer came quickly. Susan came around the corner, gliding across the floor, at least that’s the way it looked to Martin, and sat next to him.

  Martin reached over and took Susan’s hand in his. He realized he was staring at her and glanced away briefly. When he turned back, he said, “You look absolutely stunning.”

  She smiled, hiding a hint of seduction behind it. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I hope it stays. I’ll have to freshen my makeup more often.”

  Martin didn’t know what to say. He was often like that, quiet and low on conversation. It had never seemed to matter much to Susan. It bothered Martin, though. He wished he could be more outgoing, more talkative and interesting. He started to ask if she had ordered yet but, in case she had, he didn’t want to sound completely out of touch.

  Martin got the distraction he was looking for. A familiar voice sent a chill up his spine, and he glanced around to confirm his fears.

  Doctor Stewart sat at the table directly behind him. He had not noticed Martin or given any indication that he had.

  Martin struggled to determine how that could be. Even in his crazy world, it was too much for coincidence. Had Stewart been there all along? Martin wouldn’t have noticed him originally because he hadn’t yet met him. Or was this the original time? He just didn’t know.

  Another question came to mind. Why had he and Susan chosen this restaurant? They hadn’t been here before, and as far as he knew, they had never returned. The ordeal answered one question. He was no longer stuck on the fourth day of May, if he ever had been, and he wasn’t confined to the current year.

  “Are you all right?” Susan asked. “You were getting all romantic on me, and now you look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

  “Sorry,” Martin said, trying to keep his voice down without it seeming like he was purposely doing that. “I guess I’m a little distracted.”

  “By my good looks and charm, I hope?”

  “That’s definitely what it is,” Martin said, and it was true in part. He hadn’t been lying when he said she looked stunning. “That dress is flattering on you. You should wear it more often.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  The waiter arrived and sat an aromatic dish of enchiladas in front of Martin. At least the food wouldn’t be a mystery. He remembered it as being quite tasty.

  “A penny for your thoughts.”

  Martin smiled. Susan used to say that quite often. She hadn’t in a while, having moved on to other pet
sayings.

  “I love you with all my heart,” he said.

  She stared at him for a moment, as if she couldn’t decide if her quiet and moody husband had changed, and then her lips quivered into a smile. “I love you too, Martin.”

  From behind, Martin heard someone say, “We have our minds made up. Alice and I have decided to have the baby. We’ve even chosen a name. We’re going to call her Angela.”

  “I understand your sentiment,” Doctor Stewart said. “I’m just trying to point out the gravity of the situation and equip you to make an informed decision.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but like I said, we’ve made our decision.”

  “All right, McKinley. But Down’s Syndrome is nothing to take lightly. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Do you actually think we would make such a decision without thinking it through? We realize the challenge ahead of us. We’ll make the best of it.”

  Susan reached across the table and tapped Martin on his hand.

  “Martin, you’re zoning out on me again. At times, I can get at least an inkling of what’s going on behind that handsome face, but not today.”

  Martin tried to ignore the strange conversation behind him, but he could no more do that than he could understand what had caused all of this. He’d never been good at lying to anyone, especially Susan. And he wanted to tell her, but he just didn’t know how.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I guess I’m not myself today.”

  “That’s for sure. Not that I mind the added romantic flair. But the way you communicate without speaking could spawn a novel. Don’t get me wrong. Everybody uses body language, but you take it to a whole new level.”