The Nostradamus File

CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

"It was a rough week," Nick said.

He was sitting in the shrink's office. Milton nodded politely.

"I can't tell you exactly what I did."

Milton waited.

"I was thinking about the last time I was here. You remember what we were talking about?"

"You said you felt helpless. About the grenade."

"Yeah. Well, more than that. It's not just that grenade. What I do…it could happen again."

"I know."

"You do?"

"You carry a gun. You're no longer in the military. I would guess you face situations like that grenade more often than you'd like."

"You saw in the papers, about Israel and Iran?"

"Pretty hard to miss."

"Something else I can't control. Wars other people start."

"How do you feel about it? That incident?"

"They teach you that phrase in shrink school? How do you feel?"

Milton smiled. "First thing. Well, almost. So, how do you feel?"

"The same as with the grenade. Only more general. There's nothing I can do about it if the idiots running the world start throwing nukes at each other."

"Idiots is a harsh word."

"I don't think so. If anything, it's too mild."

Milton was quiet. Then, "How are you doing with the dreams?"

"I've been too tired to dream."

It wasn't true.

"You do anything to relax?"

"Have a drink. Read a book, sometimes."

"You looked pretty stiff when you walked in here."

Stiff was an understatement. He had two broken ribs from the round he'd taken in Maine. His back was tight. His neck was sore.

"It's nothing."

Milton looked at him, waited.

"I'm still having the dream."

Milton nodded.

"It's screwing up my love life."

"Is that all?"

"All what?"

"All that's screwed up?"

"Maybe it's more than just the dream doing it. All I know is I'm tired. I feel like I can't connect with Selena, not like we used to anyway."

"Go back to helpless."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember, you said you felt helpless when the grenade was coming at you."

"So?"

"Helpless about what?"

Nick could feel himself tensing up. "You know what. The grenade."

"The grenade is just a grenade."

…the grenade is coming toward him, turning end over end, a lopsided throw. It will kill him…he starts to move but it's too late…

He became very still. A shudder of energy passed through him. He'd always thought the dream was caused by guilt over killing the child. In that moment of stillness he saw that it wasn't about the child. Not at all. The grenade had made him know he wasn't invincible. That he was no different from anyone else. That he could die a violent, painful death, just like all the others he'd seen die over the years. He'd never admitted it to himself, even after years of war. Never seen the simple truth of it. Suddenly it seemed obvious.

He looked at Milton.

"I could have died."

Milton waited.

"I never let myself…I wouldn't let myself feel it."

Milton nodded. "It's alright," he said. "You don't have to be Captain America all the time."

After he left Milton's office, Nick sat in his car. Something had changed. He felt light, as if a weight had been lifted from him. He didn't know why, but he didn't think he'd have the dream again or feel the same way if he did. He realized that he felt relaxed. It was a strange feeling. He hadn't been relaxed like that in a long time.

He thought about Selena and smiled. He took out his phone and called her.

"Hey."

"Where are you?"

"Outside the shrink's office."

She didn't say anything, then "How did it go?"

"Good. It went good." He paused. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?" He could hear amusement in her voice.

"We never did get to that Indian restaurant."

"No, we didn't."

"I'll meet you outside your building. How about seven?"

"You're sure?" She wasn't asking about the restaurant.

"It's going to be alright," he said.