Peace of Mind

He had changed from a hard-charging, ambitious army officer to someone who couldn't decide on what to eat. Mainly because he didn't want to care.

He wasn't sure he wanted to form a close bond with the dog. In fact, he was quite sure he didn't. But maybe the dog would help. Anything to keep from falling to pieces whenever he heard a loud noise. He would just have to maintain an emotional distance, that was all.

Audrey paused, then added, "Are you up for the challenge?"

Landon looked down at Scout, who made a low sound, like a rumble, and moved closer to him. He reached down and stroked his head. Scout licked his hand and looked up at him.

"I think so," Landon said making his first major decision in God knows how long.

CHAPTER 6

Ten days later, Derek parked his car in front of the cabin Landon had rented.

"Home, sweet home," Derek announced in his deep voice.

Bella and Grace were waiting for them in front of the cabin.

Landon didn't move. He just sat in the car looking at the cabin. He could feel Scout in the back seat moving closer to him.

"Damn! I didn't' expect a welcoming committee." Derek exclaimed. "I asked Bella to fill your fridge and clean the place. I have no idea what Grace is doing here. Wait in the car, I'll get rid of them."

Landon stopped him. "It's okay as long as they don't stay long. There's no need to be rude. How much do I owe you?"

Derek shook his big hands, "Nothing, man. It's a welcome gift from all of us."

Landon hesitated, he had a really hard time accepting help from others. But he knew it would be useless to fight Derek about it. So, he said, "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"Any time, man."

Bella approached the car. "Welcome home, Landon. Do you need any help unloading?"

"Perhaps you can help with Scout's belongings. He has more than Landon does," Derek said, giving his wife a look that meant `leave Landon alone'.

Bella smile disappeared from her face and she nodded.

Landon stood by the car while Derek opened the trunk that was filled with dog food, a dog bed, and a cardboard box full of dog dishes, toys, and a leash.

Derek was right about his friend's luggage thought Grace. There was only a medium-size duffel. She picked up the dog bed and Bella took the big sack of dog food.

Derek and Landon picked up the rest of the things and then followed the girls inside.

Grace placed the dog bed in front of the living room window.

"Do you like it here, Landon?" She asked him. He shrugged, "It's okay."

"Your dog is beautiful," Grace said sincerely. "Scout, isn't it?

"Thank you, Ma'am. Yes, that's his name."

Bella left the dog food in the kitchen. "I made some fresh coffee; there are some sweet rolls Grace brought. You should try them, they're great."

"Thank you," Landon said, keeping Scout at his side.

"We also filled the fridge." Bella opened the door to show Landon the content. "You'll find a couple of casseroles and cold cuts along with sliced bread, eggs, milk, and sodas."

"It's far more than I expected. Thank you," he said again. His words were polite but void of emotion. He was obviously uncomfortable.

Grace noticed Landon was scarce with conversation, but that was all right. She was tired of smooth talkers. She made a mental note to ask Derek about what was wrong with him.

"I think we should leave Landon alone," Derek urged both girls. Bella looked at her husband with surprise. She was about to say something, but then she saw the expression on his face.

Grace also realized Landon wanted to be alone.

"Okay then. We'll leave you to get some rest, Landon," Bella said.

Grace took out a sheet of paper she had prepared. "My number is there, along with several others you might want to know. The veterinarian. The town doctor."

She attached the list with a magnet onto the fridge's door.

Landon nodded, obviously absorbing the information, then he went to the door with them. "Thank you for the warm welcome."

"Just call me if you need company," Grace gave herself a mental slap as soon as the words left her mouth. She sounded like a hooker.

Thing was she didn't want to leave Landon alone. There was something broken inside him. She could sense it. His voice was soft, but it carried no strength, no conviction that would be expected of an army officer.

She suddenly realized she was staring. "I had better go."

Grace headed for the door. She had already stayed longer than necessary. She forced herself down the path to her car.

As she hurried past him and out the front door, Landon found his gaze following her.

Bella climbed into Derek's car and they left, waving their hands through the windows.

As she opened the car door, she glanced back. Landon Petersen was watching as she left. Slim, muscular, and tall, he looked like a statue.

As Grace drove back to town, she couldn't get Landon out of her mind.

Dammit! Why couldn't he have been just another disgusting sweet talker? She was never going to fall for another one, not again. Instead, Landon was soft-spoken and appealing. More than appealing.

Since she was a kid she had been a sucker for lost puppies and damaged goods. That's why she had moved in with her brother when his first wife died. She knew she couldn't stay away from Landon.

CHAPTER 7

Landon watched his friends drive away and went inside the cabin.

He went into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee from the electric pot. He liked his coffee black, and the stronger the better.

He took a plate with two rolls outside and returned for the coffee. He sat in one of several chairs on the screened porch and ignored the swing. Scout followed him and sat at his side and regarded the roll enviously.

Landon couldn't help but smile as the dog's tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. He steeled himself against getting too attached to the dog, but he had to admit Scout was growing on him. He couldn't resist giving him a piece of roll.

For the first time since he set off on this journey, he relaxed. Maybe this had been a good move.

Once he finished his coffee. Scout nudged him, and he stood, remembering what Grace said about the mountain. A walk. Fresh air. That was what he needed. He looked up and saw the path she had mentioned.

The path was there. Taunting him. Inviting him to leave his safety zone.

"What do you think, Scout? Should we try it?"

The dog wagged his tail eagerly.

Landon started up the path. Scout went ahead of him but kept looking back to make sure he was keeping pace with him.

Landon didn't realize how out of shape he was. He hadn't run since Afghanistan.

He was breathing hard when he reached what was obviously a lookout. He paused and looked out over the town of Middletown. A peaceful town where everyone probably knew everyone. It looked like a toy town from here. The lake appeared an even richer blue. The war and its horrors seemed so far away. Suddenly he felt the darkness descending again. The despair.

"Don't! Don't do this!" He filled his lungs with fresh air and the rich smell of pine.

Scout made curious little noises in his throat and licked his hand. "Sensing something, huh?" he said. "I'm okay."

The dog looked at him. He seemed to be saying, "I'm here now. You're not alone."

Landon swallowed hard, feeling a bit of anxiety. Scout nudged him again, and he reached out and scratched behind his ears. He was a smart dog. Could he really feel the emotions swirling in his chest?

Pain was a living thing inside him. It had been for months. He couldn't let go of it. He didn't want to let it go. It would be a betrayal of those who gave their lives to keep everyone safe. He remembered the last time he had seen Derek. Blood had been everywhere and his face was...

Landon felt nauseous.

"Don't go there," he said aloud.

Scout moved closer to him, nudged him, and made guttural sounds in his throat. He assumed that was his way of reassuring him. Landon looked at the towering mountains. Snow-covered peaks glistened in the noon sun. He took a deep breath of fresh air, rubbed Scout's ears and slowly calmed down.

He started down the mountain. The path was well-trod but steep. He had to concentrate on every step, a good thing, in his mind. He was winded when he reached the bottom. He remembered the times, no so long ago, when he could run ten miles without breathing hard.

But that was a lifetime ago. A different Landon. Now he had to face new challenges.

CHAPTER 8

Some days later, Landon woke to sunlight streaming through the bedroom window. He felt a furry body next to him. It was the first full night's sleep he'd had in months. No demons. No blood. No bad dreams. Just soft snoring.

Scout opened one eye and peered at him, as if asking whether he could stay. He remembered the resolve he had made about not getting too emotionally invested in the dog. It had lasted until the first nightmare, when Scout had woken him, crawled up on the bed, and let him cling to him.

The dog's eyes regarded him solemnly now, and he couldn't help but rub his ears. So much for not getting invested.

Landon looked at the clock on the stand next to his bed. Nearly seven. He rarely, if ever, slept that late, but then yesterday had been a very emotionally exhausting day.

Derek had driven Landon to the PTDS center in Seattle for his first meeting with his psychiatrist, Doctor Michaels.

The toughest part of seeking help had been making that first appointment. Derek had been gently pushing him to do the right thing.

Landon liked Doctor Michaels. He was a middle-aged man, bearded, of a good natural enthusiasm.

"All soldiers are affected by combat. It is normal for them to experience symptoms due to their deployment experiences. I bet you drink more coffee now than you used to, huh? Maybe you used to get drunk too."

Landon thought about that and said, "Yeah, I'm drinking at least a pot a day. I admit I used to drink a lot too when I got back home, but I don't drink anymore. So?"

"While you were in the combat zone, your body, without you knowing it, was releasing a ton of endorphins and adrenaline, even when you weren't doing anything. When you came back, your mind and body were still on that high. Your body still needed those endorphins. And so you were seeking out stimulants like caffeine for having lost that feeling."

Landon thought about that for a second and finally nodded.

Doctor Michaels finished taking notes and explained, "I'll tell you about everything, Landon. What I am writing down, what I don't write down, where that record goes and who has access to it. I want to be open with what I am doing so you are aware and you are also able to trust me."

"Okay."

"If you see me as someone you can trust, then you are more likely to listen and understand my recommendations," the doctor kept explaining. "At this first stage, we'll be working towards feeling more stable in your life and not feeling so chaotic and out of control."

"That would be good."

"Tell me where your negative thoughts come from. Where does your mind go when you have those flashbacks. I know it's a challenge to open up to someone who is, essentially, a complete stranger. But when it comes to therapy, opening up can make all the difference. The more I know, the better I can understand you and help you."

Landon gulped. It was very hard to open up about the attack where his team mates died. It was even harder to about his daily struggles. He didn't want to be perceived as a weak person. However, ignore and overrule didn't work anymore for him.

Landon told Doctor Michaels everything that had happened in Afghanistan. He started giving him a dispassionate account of the incident where his team died. But as he progressed the emotional barriers fell and he broke down.

Doctor Michaels gave Landon all the time he needed to recover, he just guided him through some breathing exercises.

"Thank you, Landon. I know it was hard to live that and tell me about it. We do have to open up those wounds and drain the pus so the infection can heal. Thing is, this event was stored in your memory bank with all the gory details attached. Every object you saw, every sound you heard, every smell that infiltrated your nostrils, and every sensation your body experienced was remembered. Because the emotion you felt at that moment were so strong, it became a memory that stays with you and comes back to haunt you as a flashback. However, a flashback is more than a memory. They are more like a nightmare because you can't distinguish between the flashback and reality."

"They do feel very real. I feel I am back there," Landon gulped. His hands were shaking.

"When you feel several of these emotions in quick succession, it can be very hard to know what you're feeling at any given moment, Landon. If you don't know what you're feeling, you may be headed for being unable to manage your emotions and stay in control. The brain is an incredible organ. You'll notice it will feed you memories like rations. You'll get a memory, assimilate it, then it'll feed you a new one."

Landon liked the doctor. He told him about a strategy called the container, where he created a box in his mind to put your memories or feelings in so that he could come back to them at a later time when he was ready.

"I'm hopeful about you, Landon. Writing helps too. I strongly suggest you keep a journal."

"What do I write?"

"Whatever comes to your mind. Memories, good and bad ones. Random thoughts... Progress, doubts, questions... you get the idea."

Landon talked with Derek on the way back to Middletown. He had been there so he understood him.

For the first time in a long time, Landon felt hope, real hope.

CHAPTER 9

"Hi, Landon!"a cheerful voice came on the phone when Landon took the call. "This is Grace McAllister, the realtor. Do you remember me?"

Landon remembered Grace, of course. The bubbly real estate agent.

"Yes, I remember you."

"I hope I'm not intruding, but I wanted to make sure you had everything you need."

"I'm fine. Thank you." Landon replied. "You and Bella were really helpful."

"Look, I was showing a house in the area and I thought about calling you. Are you up for a visit? There is something I want to talk about with you. Don't be polite if I'm imposing," Grace giggled.

Landon hesitated. A visitor was the last thing he wanted. However, his psychiatrist had encouraged him to interact with people on a one-on-one basis.

"That would be fine," he sighed.

"Is noon okay? I can take you to a restaurant or we can stay at the cabin. You decide."

Choices. Why were they so difficult?

He couldn't live the rest of his life hiding from everything and everyone. He knew that. He couldn't retreat into a dark place and sink back in inertia. He had to fight back. He couldn't get better by avoiding humans because recovery was defined and measured by his ability to interact meaningfully with them. Doctor Michaels was very clear about that.

He had taken one step forward in coming to Middletown.

Another step taking Scout, and one more step starting his treatment.

It was time to take the next step out of hell.

"Restaurant would be fine, I think." It was said in a monotone voice, but Grace could hear his concern.

"Are you sure? I can show you around town if you're up to it. I have to warn you, though, that everyone will want to meet you. But don't worry I'll chase them away from you," she said with a giggle.

Middletown looked like a nice town, but he had grown up in an even smaller one and was familiar with its pitfalls. Everyone knew everyone's business.

"I'm warned," Landon replied. Scout came closer and nuzzled against his leg.

"You can bring the dog," Grace added almost reading his mind.

"Inside the restaurant?"

"Here you can. The mayor has a soft spot for dogs and veterans."

"Then, I will," Landon said. "We're new to each other and this is a strange place for him." For both of us, he thought. Landon had not been back in town since the first day.

"I'll be there at noon," Grace said and ended the call.

Landon took a deep breath. Had he done the right thing in agreeing to go to a public place? What if he had a panic attack or a flashback?

"What do you think, Scout? Did I make the right choice?" Landon found himself talking to the dog often.

Scout barked.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said.

He went into the bedroom, opened the duffel, and took out a clean shirt, a sweater, and a clean pair of jeans and headed for the shower.

CHAPTER 10

Grace picked him up exactly at five minutes to twelve.

"Hi, Landon. Nice to see you again." No hugs this time.

She leaned down and rubbed Scout's ears. The dog frantically wagged his tail.

"Ever had a dog before?" Landon asked Grace.

"No, my parents died when my brother and I were young and there was no time or money for a dog," she pouted.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I know how it's like to grow up without any money to spare."

"It's okay. It was a long time ago. My brother, Steve took care of me. He's my hero."

The word 'hero' triggered a bit of anxiety. He remembered the box Doctor Michaels told him about and quickly locked all the images that came to his mind there. His team had died. He had survived. That didn't make him a hero, just lucky.

Scout's tail wagged happily as they walked to Grace's car. She opened the passenger door and invited Scout inside and showed him a spot behind the front passenger seat. Landon climbed in after him.

He tried to avoid glancing at Grace as she drove the nearly empty two-lane road to Middletown.

They reached the end of the road. A large square was on the right. The restaurant was just in front of it. Landon felt comfortable the moment he stepped inside the place.

The atmosphere was warm and cozy.

They entered the restaurant and a young waitress met them. "Hi, Grace. You must be Landon. Welcome to The Jammed."

He nodded. Landon wasn't sure how he felt about the waitress already knowing who he was. He'd always been a private person.

"I'm Mary. I'll be your waitress," she said, then looked down at the dog. "Looks like a fine service dog," she added with a wink. She didn't wait for an answer but led them to a booth in the back.

After they were seated, Landon asked Mary what was good.

"Tony, our chef, would say pasta, he comes from an Italian family," the waitress lowered her voice, "But I prefer the quail."

"Quail?"

"Five-spice roasted quail with sweet-and-sour cranberry sauce. It's delicious," the waitress smiled at Landon.

"You sold me," Landon said.

Then, an extremely loud bang came out of a car's exhaust pipe and echoed between the buildings. It sounded as loud as a gunshot. Memories came flooding back.

A pop. A hiss.

A deafening blast.

Blinding light. Searing pain.

Landon's hand crushed the napkin in his lap. For a brief moment, he felt the need to jump on top of Grace and push her to the ground. Scout whined and moved closer to him, resting his head on his thigh. That stopped him.

"Landon, take a look around. We're in the restaurant. We're safe," Grace's voice was calm and collected even when her eyes were big as plates.

Grace offered him her hand and he held it until his knuckles turned white. She winced but didn't complain or let it go.

She kept whispering in a low calming voice. "Take deep, slow breaths. I'm here with you. You are safe. You are in Middletown."

Scout whined again and Landon scratched the dog's ears feeling slowly back in control.

He looked up and saw Grace's concerned gaze.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "Do you want us to leave?"

"No," he replied softly. "I'll be all right in a minute. I'm getting there"