"Monochrome" - Part Two

Part Two

            Barbara calmed the mortified Susan, who regretted her decision to crank open the unsettling box, which might as well have been the casket for what was left of an innocent man. Meanwhile, Ian and the Doctor worked together in closing it.

            “What kind of sicko would do that to a dude?” Alan questioned.

            “I can think of a hundred sickos,” Candace replied. “I just hope none of them are in this dimension!”

            “What was that you said?” The Doctor snapped in attention towards her. “What do you mean by ‘dimension’? Hmm?”

            Candace slightly bit her lower lip, unnerved from her error in diction.

            “Slip of the tongue,” she covered. “I meant to say ‘this area’.”

            The Doctor wasn’t entirely convinced. Not that it would have mattered any longer, once Ian approached him and informed, “There’s a farmhouse not far from here.”

            “Ah, excellent!” The Doctor optimistically exclaimed. “Perhaps the people there can supply some answers of the strangeness we’ve encountered out in this cornfield.” He briefly turned to Candace and Alan. “Come along, you two.”

            Candace hadn’t anticipated the invitation, but she accepted nonetheless.

            As she and Alan trailed a distance behind the Doctor and his companions, Alan couldn’t help but notice how nervous Candace looked. “Are you good right now?”

            “Of course,” Candace was quick to respond. “Why you ask?”

            “No reason,” he fibbed, not wanting to embarrass her. “Don’t you know a dude who calls himself ‘Doctor’?”

            Candace nodded. “I do.”

            “And that’s him and his crew right there?”

            Again, Candace nodded. “That’s right.”

            “Aw, tight! All the times you bragged about him, I finally get to meet him! But why doesn’t he recognize you?”

            “Because this is a much earlier version of him – one that hasn’t met me yet.”

            “For real? But won’t that, like, mess up the time-space continuum or something? I mean, is it like Back to the Future and you could cease to exist or something like that?”

            “I’m not sure, sweetheart. But, for both of our sakes, don’t mention anything about me to him. As far as he and his friends are concerned, we’re total strangers they met out in an even stranger cornfield.”

            A minute later, they arrived at the farmhouse Ian sighted.

            There, they were greeted by the farmer, who was tending to his lawn upon their arrival. “Well, hello there, strangers,” he said, sounding almost overjoyed by their visitation. “Haven’t seen you all around these parts. We don’t get very many visitors in Peaksville these days.”

            “Peaksville?” Barbara frowned at the name. “I know of many areas in America, but Peaksville isn’t one of them.”

            “That doesn’t surprise me,” the farmer said. “We’re sort of…closed off from the rest of the world.” The manner of his tone was more in fear than jest. “Name’s John Fremont, by the way.”

            “Pleasure to meet you, John.” Ian shook his hand. “I’m Ian Chesterton, and this is Barbara Wright, Susan, Candace, Alan, and the Doctor.”

            “A doctor, eh?” an amused John remarked.

            “Yes, my boy,” the Doctor said. “Before we proceed any further with the formalities, I must inform you that my associates and I have come across a disturbing sight out there in that cornfield: what remains of a man’s head inside of a jack-in-the-box. Now I must ask you who on earth would have the means and disconcerting creativity to do that to a man, hmm?”

            John began to sweat profusely; either from the heat or, more presumably, his nerves. His anxiety became more evident when a little boy in overalls emerged out of the farmhouse.

            “Oh,” John said in an unnerved gasp. “Hello, Anthony. How are you, son?”

            Anthony didn’t say a word. He merely looked on the six strangers, standing in front of his father.

            “Is this your son?” Candace asked John.

            “He is. A-And he’s a very good boy. A very good boy.” There was much exuberance in his voice, clearly forced and in no way genuine. He turned back to Anthony and continued in the same voice, “These are new friends of ours, son. Some of them have come from a long way to Peaksville.”

            “That’s good, I guess,” Anthony impassively said.

            Wiping the sweat from his brow, John faced the visitors one last time. “Well, it was nice meeting you folks. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

            “Let them stay,” Anthony spoke up.

            This visibly worried John, but he managed to maintain a pleasant façade. “Why, Anthony…that’s very good of you to offer them to stay. But, uh, six strangers are a lot of people to have around in our little home. Too many mouths to feed for the night, wouldn’t ya say?”

            In response to this, Anthony turned and faced the Fremont farmhouse, which did appear as small and simple as John made it out to be. However, right at the moment Anthony pointed a finger towards the farmhouse, it suddenly transformed into a large, luxurious mansion.

            “Good heavens,” the Doctor yelped, witnessing the supernatural spectacle along with the other adults, who were just as overawed as he was.

            A middle-aged woman in a flower dress and apron rushed out of the newly-erected mansion, crying out John’s name in terror. He went right to her, holding her in his arms to calm her.

            “It’s alright, Cloris,” John told her (and, to a certain extent, himself as well). “Anthony gave us a new home…and it’s a very good home. It was a very good thing for Anthony to do.”

            Cloris cried into John’s shoulder – they just weren’t tears of joy.

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            “That is not a normal child,” the Doctor stated, just as soon as he and his associates were in their own privacy within the Fremonts’ new study room.

            “Understatement of the century, bro,” Alan wittingly told the Doctor.

            “His parents are absolutely terrified of him,” Barbara noted.

            “And that could be a sign of how powerful is,” Candace said. “He could be capable of doing more than shapeshifting a house.”

            “Get away.”

            Their heads turned in the direction that the shriveled, monotone voice spoke from, finding a woman standing at the doorway. They knew her name to be Amy, having been introduced as Anthony’s aunt earlier when the visitors stepped into the mansion. She seemed like a guileless woman at first glance, barely uttering a word. This was the first instance that she spoke since they walked inside.

            “What did you say, madam?” the Doctor beseeched.

            “Get as far away as you can,” Aunt Amy resaid, “while you still value your lives.”

            And she spoke no further than that, leaving the study as swiftly as she came.

            “I think we should do what she says,” Alan suggested.

            “No!” The Doctor boldly refused. “These people are being controlled by a six-year-old with the imagination of a monster, therefore making him one. We must stop this child at whatever the cost!”

            Ian didn’t like what the Doctor was implying. “You’re not suggesting that we murder that boy, are you?”

            “At whatever the cost!” The Doctor repeated with more vigor.

            Candace could hardly believe her own ears. Here was a man that, from the time in which she knew him, was incapable of resorting to such a disquieting solution – especially not with children like Anthony. The Doctor, in his original body, was quite the hardhearted (and hardheaded) alien.

            “You can’t be serious, Doctor,” Barbara expressed her disdain of the Doctor’s cold resolve. “He’s only a little boy who’s possibly more frightened of his power than anyone else.”

            “Barbara’s right,” Candace said, only realizing the inadvertent play on the English schoolteacher’s name after the fact. “There has to be a better approach to this.”

            “It would be a useless method, I’m sure,” the Doctor immediately disproved.

            “And yours is tactless!” Barbara scolded him.

            “Uh, ya’ll?” Alan tensely muttered. “We got company.”

            They followed his gaze, which was directed back towards the doorway. Except it wasn’t Aunt Amy standing there this time. As the group had been discussing what to do with Anthony, the boy himself stood at the doorway with a look of judgmental anger on his face.