The Appointment

Kate Swenson woke up with a strange feeling that she couldn’t seem to shake. She wondered if it had been some leftover feelings from her dreams the night before but she couldn’t remember any of the dreams that she had. She got out of bed and started her morning routine in hopes of letting go of the feeling but it was still there. She couldn’t even really describe it, just that it was a feeling of foreboding deep inside her gut. 

She played her favorite music playlist on her way into work and sang out loud to the songs to try to lighten her own mood but it didn’t work. She couldn’t help but to feel anxious. The twenty minute ride in to work just made her feel worse. At every red light she held her breath. Was another vehicle going to slam into the back of her? Was her intuition trying to tell her that she was going to be involved in some kind of accident? She relaxed only slightly when she made it to work without incident.

Kate knew that this was not the day to be feeling off. She had a full schedule of clients coming in and, as a massage therapist, that meant a very physically exhausting day. She had to be on her game. She was dealing with people with chronic pain and there was no room for her to be distracted and unable to perform her job to the best of her ability. She was worried that her clients would be able to tell that she wasn’t feeling her best and that they might choose to not come back. She was newly licensed and had recently started working in a chiropractor’s office and was trying to build her business. She didn’t want people to think that she didn’t do a good job and find someone else to take care of them.

She opened her appointment book and took inventory of the clients that she had scheduled for the day. There was still that feeling in her gut. Impending doom. That is what she felt as she looked over her clients’ names. None of the names jumped out at her and there was only one new client that she was going to see that day. What if she was going to be killed that day? What if one of her clients had a mental break and brought a gun into their session and held her hostage? Again, she looked at her book and couldn’t picture any of her clients doing such a thing. The only new client, Christine Marchand, had sounded pleasant over the phone when she called to make her appointment and Kate couldn’t picture that voice trying to kill her.

The day went on without issue as Kate tended to client after client. She actually started to relax a bit as nothing happened and began to think the she was just being silly. She probably had a dream that set her on edge and she didn’t even remember it. She was looking forward to her last client, Christine, and finishing the day and going home to relax with a glass of wine and a good book.

Christine Marchand was right on time for her appointment at 4 pm. Kate sat down with her and talked about her reason for booking the appointment. She had back pain that she had suffered from since her years as a college athlete. It had recently gotten worse and she was hoping that she would benefit from massage therapy.

Kate got right to work but as soon as she placed her hands on Christine’s shoulders she had a sick feeling in her stomach. She had never felt this type of feeling before when she was working or ever, really. As she continued the massage her stomach churned. She felt like she was going to gag. Feeling lightheaded and unsteady on her feet, she put her hands down by her side and steadied herself for a moment. What was she feeling? She couldn’t figure it out. She tried to focus on a picture that she had on the wall. She had to ground herself and she needed to breathe and take an assessment of what was happening. She was giving a client a massage just like she had many times before. She knew what she was doing, she had just never felt this feeling before.  

Her hands went back on Christine’s shoulders and all she saw was black. Her hands started to tremble and she closed her eyes to try to clear her mind and get focused. Tears started to roll down her cheeks. She felt that feeling in the pit of her stomach and it made her nauseous. She felt compelled to say something to her new client. She knew that she was out of line and would most likely lose her and many other clients after word got out that she was a crack pot.

“He’s going to kill you,” Kate blurted out. Instantly, she felt some relief, some release of that horrible churning in the pit of her stomach.

Christine’s head slowly turned to look back at Kate. Her eyes were wide and incredulous.

“What did you say?” she asked softly.

“I feel he’s going to kill you. I’m sorry,” Kate whispered.

Christine closed her eyes and put her head down on the table.

Kate stood out in the hallway while Christine got dressed. When she walked back into the room she felt the energy shift and it became harder to breathe.

“How do you know?” Christine asked. “Did you see bruises on my back?”

“I didn’t see anything,” Kate explained. As a matter of fact, the whole room went black for a moment and I literally couldn’t see anything. It’s just a feeling. I felt like I was being crushed or suffocated and I just felt that you were in danger. I feel that you are in danger,” Kate reiterated.

“My husband would never kill me,” said Christine. “He might lose his temper sometimes but I know that he would never kill me.”

“You need to get far away from him. Please trust me. I feel it.”

Christine left the room and Kate didn’t see her again as a client. She often wondered if Christine ever left and if she was okay. She worried that she might have overstepped her bounds and been out of line for saying what she said but she knew that it was the right thing to do. She had never felt such a strong feeling in her gut and it was as if she had a visceral reaction to it. The feeling was not something that she could ignore and it was not going to go away until she acknowledged it.

It had been months since that appointment with Christine Marchand and Kate still thought about her every day. One day she arrived at the office and there was a card on the reception desk with her name on it. When she opened it there were only two words written inside. 

Thank you.