Sunflower: A Duskwood Postlude

Part 18 - Time Heals All Wounds...

               "How would you like to be addressed?"

"Q is fine." He nods. Dr. Rueger, a man in his mid-fifties, shuffles through the paperwork perched carefully on his lap. He jots something down before re-engaging.

"Very well, Q. Let me explain how this works. There is nothing you can say that will surprise me. Everything is completely confidential, even from your previous employer. This is your space and time to speak on whatever topic you please. If you want to sit in silence for the duration of our visits, that is up to you. You are only mandated to attend these sessions twice a month for the next eight months. You may schedule as many appointments as you feel you need, however, and your sessions are covered for the rest of your life as far as I can tell. What questions do you have so far?" You look him over. His eyes are a keen brown, peering into you but not through you. His face and posture are neutral with no hint of expression. His shoes look comfortable if not well worn, his brown slacks loosely fit his long legs, and he wears his black sweater with the sleeves pulled up over his elbows.

"I have no questions at this time." He nods at your comment, writing something down. He casually lays the pen back onto the notepad.

"Alright. I have been through your extensive work file from the last several years, even prior to your work with Swan Legal. You have full reign to speak freely about your experiences if you choose to. If you are ready to get started, I do have some initial questions." He holds your gaze. You nod.

"How are you sleeping?"

"Terribly."

"Are you taking anything to help you sleep?"

"No."

"Supplementing? Drugs, alcohol?"

"No."

"Do you dream?"

"Yes."

"Nightmares?"

"Yes." He scribbles without breaking eye contact.

"That is normal, all things considered. Would you like medication to help you sleep?"

"I don't know." More scribbling.

"We can prescribe something whenever you decide. How are your eating habits? Are you binging, have any loss of appetite, changes in appetite?"

"No. Just a caffeine addiction I don't intend to kick." For the first time he shows some semblance of emotion. He purses his lips slightly, nodding his head, eyebrows raised.

"I can't fault you there. Hobbies?"

"I haven't had much interest in hobbies yet." Scribbles.

"What about your relationships? Any new ones? Have you tried re-connecting with anyone?" Your mouth runs dry. You try to swallow. He puts the pen down.

             "Tell me about your relationships." He sets the notebook face down on the table between you. His fingers intertwine into a steeple shape in his lap.

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who said I don't have to say anything during this."

"I did say that. I didn't say I wouldn't ask questions. How are your friends and relatives reacting to your return?"

"They are glad. Sure. Relieved, maybe."

"How do you feel about your return?"

"I'm not sure, yet."

"That is okay. You went through a lot. Try to describe how you have been feeling. Are there any emotions you can name?"

"Tired." He nods. Silence. Your brain follows strand after strand, pulling at words for emotions you once knew the names of. You inhale deeply, trying to refocus.