Love Bear Nun (2 page)

              “Stereotyping people is a dick move.” Henson said before finishing his beer. The bartender walked up and grabbed it right away while he started to rinse and wipe it down again.

              “Darren, how about a little respect for the returning soldiers, eh?” The bartender asked, looking at the other man. Henson caught the man’s name as the bartender said it and somewhat wondered if he had said it on purpose, “Leave the guy alone, will you? Go pester someone else.”

              “Thanks.” Henson said after Darren walked away, “What’s that guy's problem?”

              “He just goes around stirring things up until he can start a fight. One of these days he’s gonna end up finding that fight and he’s not gonna like it.” The bartender said as he refilled Henson’s beer and passed it to him, “That one’s on the house too, for dealing with Darren’s shit with a straight face and throwing it right back at him.”

              Henson sat at the bar for a couple of hours that night, drinking to try to stop the thoughts from pouring through his head. After he polished off his fifth beer he thought he should get heading home. He steadied himself and got up from the stool. Just as Jacinda had said the drinks didn’t make the flashbacks go away.

              He stumbled his way home, craving the solace of his warm bed and maybe some bread before that, something to soak up the booze in his belly.

Chapter Two

              Henson woke up the next morning with a painful throbbing in his temples. No matter how much he drank after coming back, he always got a hangover. He got up and took a shower before he made himself a breakfast of eggs and bacon with some toast. He drank water to hydrate himself, knowing that he had another meeting with the counselor. His breakfast was delicious and settled his stomach, making him feel much better afterwards.

              He discarded the little remnants of food left and looked at the clock; he had a couple of hours before his session for the day. He still hadn’t quite gotten himself around to the idea of going to psychiatric therapy. Growing up where he did, it been demonized as something only weak people did. Henson didn't feel weak.

              He felt that same feeling, like he could still take it on and that it was rather ridiculous that he had to get a signature to get a normal job. He started getting more and more frustrated as he kept thinking about it.
May as well exercise some and see if that helps the frustration.

              He went down to his basement and worked out, focusing his mind on counting despite flashbacks of clawing and biting those in the line of duty. He didn’t let up and just kept focused on his workout, pushing up the weight bar as he did a bench press. He forced his mind to focus on only two things; counting and controlling his breathing. The next time Henson looked at a clock he realized that he had lost track of time and he only had an hour before his next session. He couldn’t miss a single session or he wouldn’t get Jacinda’s signature and without it he couldn’t have a normal life. All he wanted was a job he could wake up and go do every day and be a productive member of society. He needed that structure again. Not having that predictability was proving troublesome.

              He made his way to the building that housed Jacinda's office and walked in. As soon as he was inside, the cool breeze of the air conditioning hit his flushed skin.

              “Hello Henson, how are you today?” The lobby attendant at Jacinda’s office asked in her sweet, enthusiastic tone of voice as he walked in.

              “I’m… doin'… I’m alive so I’m doing good.” Henson asked before looking over to the lobby area; there were less people there that time so it didn’t make him feel so weird when he was booted to first call despite however long the others had been there, “Is Ms. Liberty in an appointment right now?”

              “Yes; she’ll come out and call you when she’s ready.” The lobby attendant replied.

              Henson walked over to the lobby and sat in a nice comfortable chair across the room from where he sat the day before. A man was sitting across from him from the way the seats were set up. At first Henson thought the man had asked him something but the realized the man was talking to himself and just leaned back in his chair. He had nearly answered the man and wondered how embarrassed he would have been had he replied and the other man noticed.

              “Mr. Phillips?” Jacinda’s voice called out. Henson got up and headed over towards her and tried his best to avoid the stares he was getting from nearly everyone in the room before the two of them headed into her office, “Thanks for coming in today, it’s good to see you. I’m glad to see you’re here and working towards that normal life you want.”

              “Yeah, well, not being able to work tends to put a lot of free time in a day.” Henson said.

              “Tell me what’s been bothering you lately.” Jacinda asked, sitting back in her chair and looking over at Henson through her black rimmed glasses. Henson noticed that they were a different pair than the ones she wore the day before, as subtle of a difference as it was.

              “Have any flashbacks been bothering you lately?”

              “This one has been going through my mind since I stood up… can I smoke in here?” Henson asked, getting a casual nod from Jacinda in response; he felt relieved and lit up a cigarette, feeling even more relieved as the smoke starting to trail into his lungs. “I keep seeing myself throwing bodies at a mass grave… I just kept throwing more and more and more…”

              “You were doing what you were told. That’s not what you would have done on your own is it?” Jacinda asked, making notes in his file. Henson walked around and happened to notice that Jacinda was wearing a burgundy colored skirt down to her knees, “Is there any more?”

              “This one guy… I stuck him in his gut… He opened his eyes, he was wide eyed staring straight into mine…” Henson said before he took a drag off of his cigarette and breathed it out a line of smoke. “I’ll never forget watching his eyes roll in the back of his head.”

              “Was that the same instance?” Jacinda asked, as Henson stood there smoking his cigarette. He fought off flashbacks of himself killing other people, just swatting their heads clean off, “How many people do you think you’ve killed?”

              “No, it was a different time.” Henson said as he looked over at Jacinda; he couldn’t help but notice her busty frame. Ms. Liberty was a very attractive woman now that he took a moment to actually see her, “And I always avoided keeping count, but a rough estimate would be… I don’t know… four… maybe five hundred?”

              “Whoa…” Jacinda said, doing her best to keep a straight face despite the urge to widen her eyes. “Is there any more flashbacks that are bothering you?”

              “No, not really.” Henson said, trying to play it off like that was it as he pulled out his release forms and sat them on Jacinda’s desk, “The mass grave is the worst thing I’ve ever done…. Sometimes… sometimes I can hear them scream. I know they’re not real, I know they couldn’t have been alive but I still hear them.”

              “Well, I still think you need some more sessions so I don’t think I’ll be signing that today either.” Jacinda said in a soothing voice, as soothing as possible and leaned up to push the papers back to Henson. With the action, Henson couldn’t help but look down her shirt a little, catching a glimpse of her cleavage before she sat back into her chair. “Your session here isn’t really through, you’ve still got about a half hour left.”

              “I take it I’ve gotta be here for every minute of that hour every day, huh?” Henson said as he pulled up his release papers and pocketed them before he let out a deep sigh.

              “Yup and the quicker you realize I’m here to help you the sooner you’ll get those release papers signed.” Jacinda said as Henson walked over to the window and lit up another cigarette, “Tell me what you plan on doing when you get your release papers? What is a normal life to you? Or a normal job?”

              “A nine-to-five.” He replied, looking off in the distance with a zoned out expression in his eyes, “Something… something that helps people. Maybe work at a store or something like that. Why?”

              “It’s just good to have goals.” Jacinda replied as Henson took a drag off his new cigarette. “How long have you been back? Are you being sociable?”

              “I talked to the bartender last night, until some jackass sat down next to me and started talkin’ smack about the muscle heads the military turns out.” Henson said, feeling his anger building up again.

              “And what happened?” Jacinda asked.

              “Actually, we just had a little heated debate and the bartender ended it. He told him to show some respect for returning soldiers and the guy went away.” Henson said before he sighed, feeling relieved somehow about the situation just by telling someone about it but didn’t have the nerve to admit it.

              “Alright, I’m glad that you handled it without violence.” Jacinda said before she looked at the clock, “Looks like we’re five minutes over. I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?”

              “Yeah, see you tomorrow.” Henson replied, gritting his teeth on the way out as he thought to himself, “I wonder how many days I’m gonna be coming in here before she decides I’m fit for a job… What the Hell gives her that right? To hold my future in her hands rather than giving me a chance.”

              Henson headed out of the counselor's office and lit up another cigarette even though he knew it really didn’t help his anxiety. He headed off for the bar, hoping that Darren wouldn’t be there and even if he was he planned on just ignoring him like he did his flashbacks. He saw a flash of him biting down on some man’s neck and squeezed his eyes shut. He breathed out and walked down the street, focusing on his cigarette and walking a straight line; just simple small things that would keep his mind occupied. He tossed his cigarette down at the ground in front of the bar and walked inside.

              As he walked in he immediately noticed that Darren was not only there but had every stool at the bar filled up with his buddies. Henson didn’t mind, he actually pitied the guy for having to go to such a length just to be a dick. He walked up and shook his head to the sides, laughing it off as the bartender walked over to him.

              “What’ll it be?” The bartender asked Henson, having to speak between two heavier set patrons there loudly cackling at each others jokes, “Another beer?”

              “Yeah! Sure!” One of the loud patrons in front of Henson replied as if the bartender was talking to him but, the bartender just ignored him.

              Henson nodded and looked around, checking to see if there were any open tables around. He spotted one off in the distance, a small table fit snug up with the chairs and once the bartender got him his beer he headed right off for it. He tried to relax and be there in ‘the now’ but couldn’t shake off flashbacks of what he’d done. He looked down at his hand and saw a claw covered in blood.

              “Help!” A voice called out, making Henson pop his head up and look around.

              Henson didn’t see anything amiss, all the patrons were just sitting there quietly or talking with who they were there with. He sighed as he looked over at the waitress that was walking over towards him.

              He wondered if she was heading to him or not but really hoped she wasn’t; he didn’t feel like talking to anyone at the moment, not even a pretty woman like her. She walked right passed him and went to the next table with patrons before asking them if they’d like refills. Refills brought right to his table was the only thing Henson was looking forward to and decided that he would sit back there from then on. It took him away from the crowded bar and away from possible confrontations. He sighed as he sat there with his cold beer and listened to the music that came from the jukebox.

              “… wolf shifters around here?” Henson overheard a patron say and started using his enhanced hearing to listen in on the conversation; normally he wouldn’t do something like that but wolf shifters in the area was a bad deal. “No, no kiddin’ they’re supposedly just outside of town in the woods.”

              “How cliché.” The other patron replied with a laugh but Henson knew all too well how much wolf shifters liked the wooded areas, it was home to them.

              If there were wolf shifters around Henson needed to find and stop them. He knew they could be a threat if they snuck into town or some city. People would die before anybody could stop them and he couldn’t let that happen.