"Welcome, Peter. I am Dr. Cunningham."
"Good morning, Ma'am."
"Please, just Doctor, if you want to be formal, but Jean would be my preference. Please, sit down."
"Yes, Ma'am, sorry...Jean."
Peter looked around the office. There were four options for sitting if he chose the conventional method of sitting on furniture designed for sitting. However, there were infinite possibilities for where he could actually sit and how. The Officer, or Jean, had not sat down and was waiting for him to choose.
"God, Peter!" he thought. "Why the hell do you have to make everything so difficult?" he asked himself.
"Peter?" Jean said.
"Just pick, dammit!" his mind demanded. Peter sat down in the seat closest to him. It was a red leather love seat. "What an odd choice for a counselor's office!" he said to himself.
Jean sat across from him. "Did you finish your feeling inventory?" Peter handed her the questionnaire. She reviewed it.
"Well, now that you have have selected the correct answers on the paper, why don't you tell me what is really going on?"
"Ma'am, Jean, no disrespect, but you know what happens to a guy who claims he is having trouble of that sort."
"What, Peter?"
"They put him away, that's what. Give him a profile. No shooting, no deploying, everyone thinks you are a loose cannon, can't be trusted, might as well put him out. He's cracked!"
"Your Commander tells me you are having nightmares. He says they are strange? Can we talk about that?"
"All the company's got nightmares, Jean."
"Well, then why are you here, and not everybody else?"
"Mine aren't the flashback sort."
"Who is Sara?" Peter winced. He had been talking in his sleep. His room mate had told his supervisor who told Peter's supervisor who told the 1st Sergeant who told the Commander who must have told the doc.
"Sara is always in the dream. She seems to be waiting for me."
"Do you know this girl?"
"No, no idea."
"Maybe she represents something. Maybe she is someone or something in your life or yourself that you need to protect from something? Well, here I go speculating. I am sorry. Peter, why don't you tell me about Sara?"
"Sara, is a young woman, she usually appears as a teenager, but sometimes younger and sometimes older. She is sad. She says the dreams are her world."
"That is strange." Jean put the pencil in her hand to her lip and seemed to be thinking very deeply. "Hmmmm, well, I am not sure what avenue is the best for you just from this initial meeting. Are you in distress?"
"No," Peter smirked. "I went before I got here."
"That is not funny, Peter." Jean almost laughed, but regained her composure so quickly, that she hoped Peter didn't notice.
"I am sorry, Ma--Jean. I have been with alot of guys with no manners for the past year, and I have forgotten how to act in respectable company."
"Its ok, Peter, but I really want to make sure you are doing ok. I can suggest some medicine for your nightmares."
"But what about Sara?"
"Peter, she is just in the dream. She is not real." Jean's lips pressed together and her eyes looked so hard at Peter, and he realized he'd said something stupid.
"You are right, Jean, I don't know what I said. Sure, give me the drugs."
"Not like that, Peter, we need to have at least one more appointment for me to decide what will work best, but I need to know you are safe until our next meeting."
"Sure, I am as safe as the next guy."
"Ok, Peter, well set something up immediately. You may need your Commander to make the appointment a priority. There is not alot of availability. If you feel you are in a crisis, please tell someone in your command immediately."
"I'll be just fine, Jean. Thank you." Peter got up, shook hands with Jean and turned to leave.
"Goodbye, Peter. It was nice to meet you."
"Thank you, Jean. You, too."
Peter left wondering what was the point of this talk. Whatever, he was really tired and wanted to get back to his barracks.
As he walked to his car, he thought about the foolish thing he had let slip to the doc. No wonder his Commander made him go. "Am I cracked?" he asked himself as he started his car. An old Social Distortion song started blaring out of his speakers. "Whatever, no point worrying about it, anyway. Sara, who are you?" he wondered and started the drive home.
