Chapter 1. Talking with Dr. Garrison

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“I must say that I was very surprised when Valerie told me you were my next appointment.  You haven’t booked a session in almost two years.  But I’m happy to see you, Ed.” Dr. Garrison said.

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“It’s good to see you, too, Dr. Garrison.” I replied.  That was a bit of a fib, really.  I was actually a little upset that I had to come back to this place.

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“So, what prompted you to come see me?” Dr. Garrison asked.  That was one thing I always admired about him—he knew that time was precious, and he wanted to get right to work.

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“I started having the nightmares again, about Scott.” I began.

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“How long ago did you start having them?” Dr. Garrison asked.

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“About a month ago.  Maybe two.  But that isn’t really the biggest issue anymore. ” I said, and paused.  I still stumbled over saying it out loud. “I was involved in…..an incident.  About two weeks ago.  I was attacked by a man, and he stabbed me.”

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Dr. Garrison sat very still and peered at me incredulously before collecting himself.

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“Why….I’m so sorry to hear that, Ed.  Are you alright?”  he asked solicitously.

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“I’m fine, physically speaking.  The wound is healing fine.  But mentally….emotionally.  I’m having a little bit of trouble.” I admitted.

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“Well, it would be unusual if you didn’t have trouble.” Dr. Garrison replied.

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“I know.  I also came to see you because there has been a significant change in my life recently, and I wanted to talk about it.  I think it would benefit me to have an impartial and objective sounding board about some of my decisions.” I said.

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“Then please do.  What has happened?” he asked.

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“I’ve started an internship at a local private investigative firm.” I replied.

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“That is quite a change, indeed!  What led to this?” Dr. Garrison asked.

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I related a very short summary of the events that brought Nick Rocca and Sean Campbell into my life, and told Dr. Garrison about the deal that I made with Nick.

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“So, you hope to find your brother by doing this?” Dr. Garrison said.

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“At the very least, I want to try.” I said.  “I….I don’t think he’s still alive.”

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“You know, you couldn’t even say that to me before.  Being able to confront that possibility shows some important progress.”  Dr. Garrison said, giving me a reassuring smile.

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“I know.  But it doesn’t feel like progress. Believing that he’s dead doesn’t help.  I still want to know what happened.  Even if I never….find him…..I still want to know what happened to him.” I said.

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“That’s understandable.” Dr. Garrison replied.

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“The strange thing is….even though I had a flare-up of the nightmares about Scott again, they stopped, or well, at least slowed down, soon after I started working with Rocca Investigations.  I was having about two a week, but I haven’t had one in several weeks.” I said, brightening.

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“That is very good news.  Why do you think they’re going away?” he asked.

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“I think it’s because I’m finally doing something positive to find out what happened to Scott.  It gives me a type of control over the situation that I never really had before.” I said.

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“That’s certainly a possibility.  But have you had any nightmares about your attack?” he asked.

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“Yes.” I said, and suppressed a shudder.  “But I can handle them so much better than any involving Scott.  My attacker has a face, and I know he’s in jail.  I know that he’ll have his day in court.  When I wake up, I can remind myself of those things.” I said.

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We talked for a little while longer, and Dr. Garrison gave me advice about how to deal with post-traumatic stress from my attack.  Even though I had feared that coming back to therapy was a step backward, I had to admit that I felt much better by the end of our session.

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“Ed,” Dr. Garrison began, “you seem to be excited about your internship, but I want you to consider the fact that you may be placed in more dangerous situations.  Have you come to terms with that?” he asked.

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“I think I have.  I’m building trust in the people I’m working with, and I think they have my best interests at heart.  And it feels really good to do this work.  I really feel like I’m helping people.  I feel like I’m making a contribution that really matters.  Like I’m doing something really worthwhile.” I said.  And that was not a fib.

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Next chapter –>

• December 6, 2009
• An Edith Prescott Mystery: Story 2
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