Matt Ruff by Set This House in Order

Author:Set This House in Order
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-08-15T19:08:40+00:00

SIXTH BOOK:

MOUSE

16

Mouse's first meeting with Dr. Eddington is scheduled for 7:30 P.M., which is pretty late in the day, but the only time he had available. When Mouse called to make the appointment, she was surprised that Dr. Eddington answered the phone himself; he explained that his regular secretary was getting married in two days, and her temporary replacement hadn't shown up, "so I'm running things by myself for the time being. . . What did you say your name was?" Mouse told him, and he replied cheerfully: "Oh, Penny! Danielle -- Dr. Grey -- told me you might be calling. And this is about treatment for multiple personality disorder, right?"

Mouse was taken aback by the matter-of-factness of the question; from his tone, he might have been asking whether she needed a cavity filled, or the tires checked on her car. "Y-yes," she said.

"OK, great," he said; there was a sound of shuffling papers in the background. "So for our first session, how does a week from Wednesday sound?"

"A week. . ." exclaimed Mouse.

"Sorry it can't be sooner," Dr. Eddington apologized. "I'm booked solid tomorrow, Wednesday is my secretary's wedding, and on Thursday I fly to San Francisco for a seminar that lasts through the weekend. So I really can't do anything until next week. Unless. . ."

"Unless?"

"Well, I'm just thinking. . . my last regular appointment tomorrow ends at five o'clock, and then I've got a karate class at 5:45. I could grab a quick dinner and come back to the office after that, say around half past seven. Would that work for you?. . . Penny?. . . Are you still there?"

"Yes," Mouse made herself say. Her disappointment at being told that she would have to wait had been replaced in the blink of an eye by a powerful reluctance, a last wish that she could forget about treatment and just go back to the way things used to be -- a miserable life, sure, but one she'd grown accustomed to. But that wasn't an option now. "Yes, OK. . . half past seven tomorrow, I'll be there."

"OK," said Dr. Eddington. "Let me give you directions."

Dr. Eddington's office is in Fremont, the hippie/Bohemian enclave on the north bank of the Lake Washington Shipping Canal. Though not technically a slum, Fremont is still the sort of neighborhood Mouse's mother would have turned her nose up at; it is also a neighborhood where, twice in the past year, Mouse has awakened in strangers' beds after a lost night. She will have to take care, coming and going from Dr. Eddington's, not to catch the eye of anyone who "knows" her.

Mouse doesn't mind meeting with the doctor in the evening; the only bad part about it is having to kill time between the end of her workday and the start of the appointment. Ever since the hypnosis session at Dr. Grey's, the Society have gotten bolder. They aren't content to just send written memoranda anymore, or leave messages on her answering machine; Mouse has begun to hear voices.

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