Freaky Deaky Read Online Free PDF

longer dampened, let’s say, by acute feelings of anger. It’s out in the open and you haveto deal with it. A fear which you equate, specifically, with the loss of your hands.”
    Chris turned in the chair, quick, and caught the sneak looking at him, saw his eyes there for a moment in round glasses.
    “ I’m not worried about my hands, Phyllis is.”
    The doctor had his head down again, checking his notes. “You said, quote, ‘I started thinking about my hands. I’d be looking at them without even realizing I was doing it.’ ”
    “Because of Phyllis.”
    “You’re looking at them right now.”
    Chris put his hands in his lap, locked his fingers together and stared straight ahead at the asshole doctor’s diploma. The thing to do was just answer yes or no, don’t argue. Finish and get out.
    There was a silence.
    “I’m told a fatality occurred yesterday, a bomb exploded. What was the circumstance of the man’s death?”
    Chris said, “We believe the deceased attempted to outrun a substance that explodes at the rate of fifteen thousand feet per second and didn’t make it.”
    There was another silence.
    “You did everything you could?”
    “I’ll get you my Case Assigned report if you want to read it.”
    The silence this time was longer. Chris began to think maybe they were finished.
    “Are you aware of other fears?”
    “Like what?”
    “Are you afraid of animals, insects?”
    Chris hesitated, giving it some thought before saying, “I don’t like spiders.” That would be safe; nobody in the world liked spiders.
    The doctor said, “Oh? That’s interesting, a fear of spiders.”
    “I didn’t say I was afraid of spiders, I said I didn’t like them.”
    “Do you think you might be trying to minimize, substitute dislike for fear? I pose the question, Sergeant Mankowski, because a fear of spiders can indicate a dysfunction in the area of sexual identification. Or, more precisely, a fear of bisexuality.”
    Chris stood up. He turned his chair around and sat down again, facing the doctor.
    “You trying to tell me if I don’t like spiders it means I go both ways?”
    The young doctor looked up. For the first time his gaze in the round glasses held.
    “You seem to feel threatened.”
    “Look, they send me over here, it’s supposed to be a routine exam. Has my job been getting to me? I feel any stress? No, I just want a transfer, on account of Phyllis. Now you’re trying to tell me I have a problem.”
    “I haven’t suggested you have a problem.”
    “Then what’re you trying to do, with the spiders?”
    The young doctor kept looking right at him now. “I’m suggesting the spider is a symbol—if you want a clinical explanation—that externalizes a more threatening impulse. One that quite possibly indicates a pregenital fear of bisexual genitalia, usually in the form of a phallic wicked mother.”
    Chris kept staring at the young doctor, who stared right back at him and said, “Does that answer your question?”
    Chris said, “Yes, it does, thank you,” and felt some relief; because all the guy was doing, he was playing doctor with him, showing off. Little asshole sitting there in his lab coat with all those words in his head to dump on the dumb cop, giving him that pregenital genitalia bullshit. There was no way to compete with the guy. The best thing to do was to nod, agree. So when the doctor asked him:
    “What’s your feeling about snakes?”
    Chris said, “I like snakes, a lot. I’ve never had any trouble with snakes.”
    The doctor was still looking at him, hanging on, not wanting to let go. “You understand that your previous assignment could be psychosocially debilitating?”
    Chris said, “Sure, I can understand that.”
    “Then there’s the correlation between your fearof spiders and your desire to prove, through the handling of high explosives, your manhood. I believe you suggested the work could be emasculating. It can, quote, ‘blow your balls