2020-08-13 - Crazy Talk

It's nearly 11:00 am. Olivia is seated at the desk in her office typing on the laptop in front of her. There is an insulated mug within reach and a small stack of files to her immediate right on the desk. The office is longer than one might assume and the door has no window. The only window to the outside is directly beside her desk. From the entrance to her office, all that can be seen through the window is the dirty brickwork of the building across the alley from the building. Her name Olivia Kincaid, Ph.D. is posted outside the door.

Upon first entering the 'office' one encounters a trio of leather, club chairs set up in a conversational triangle. No stereotypical sofa in sight. On the right against the wall containing the entrance are three filing cabinets. Strewn about the office are inconspicuous potted plants and even a ficus tree. There is a small lamp lighting her desk, and the fluorescent lights of the office are half turned off. Olivia is dressed professionally but with summer in mind with a pale, knee-lengthed skirt, a thin belt, and a dark navy blouse whose sleeves are rolled up past her elbows. Her jewelry is understated and spare. Her blond hair is parted to one side today and hangs in soft waves around her face. It's probably accurate to say -- given the appointment Devlin set up -- that she is using the minutes before the pending appointment to get some other work finished.

The knock on her door is authoritative one could say. It is followed by his asking, "May I come in?" He stands at the door waiting to hear an answer. It is clear that he is not in uniform when looking through the window, casual and comfortable seem to be what carries his day.

At the knock, Olivia looks up to see Devlin politely waiting outside her open door. "When the door is open, the invitation to come in is inherent. So do come in. Make yourself comfortable. Would you like something to drink? There might be some coffee down the hall in the break room." Olivia slides her chair back and rises smoothly, catching at a portfolio that contains a legal pad of paper, and picks up a fountain pen. Skirting around her desk she approaches the trio of comfortable chairs. Should he agree that he wants coffee, she'll head off and find him some (if it's not already all gone); should he demure, she'll lift a hand to indicate the chairs in invitation for him to take a seat. Once he has, she'll walk over to shut the office door with a quiet click.

"Thank you, I can pass on the coffee. Old habits die hard, just one of those service things." Devlin walks in to the office to take a seat. "It is Doctor or Olivia for this? How are you doing?" He smiles a bit. "I had a good morning of practice. Cleared my head.. and had a good night of sleep, that did help."

Olivia returns from closing her office door and takes a seat facing Devlin. He had his choice of the seats first: there is some measure of freedom there from the start. "No coffee," she agrees. "When we're in session, you can call me whatever feels most comfortable." She smoothly slides one leg over the other and folds over her portfolio atop her knee, uncapping the fountain pen and scrawling a few notes across the top of the sheet. "So tell me what you mean by 'one of those service things'?" Her expression is relaxed and inviting, her blue eyes bright against the dark navy of her blouse. How is she? "Busy as usual, but I don't think I'd take it any other way. I like keeping on my toes." He speaks about practice. "What sort of practice? And when you say you slept well, how specifically did it help?" It is all pertinent. And she seems genuinely interested.

Devlin says, "Well for boards.. first time you enter someone's office, a good proper knock is in order. A sign of respect." He smiles a bit. "Last night, I had a bit of time to have a nice meal, meditate, and then slept well. I would say it helped clear my mind of feeling tired and over worked. As to practice, I spent a few hours practicing forms in both Tai Chi and Kung Fu. Done right, the forms can even be meditative."

Olivia hasn't written anything down yet except for the initial notes she made when she first sat down. She dips her chin thoughtfully at the proper knock being a sign of respect. Her blue eyes sift over Devlin's face, shoulders, and hands as he describes the Tai Chi and Kung Fu. "Aligning body and spirit seems conducive to a meditative state. Did you have any epiphanies or realizations about the conflicts of the day during or after your practice?"

Devlin nods, " Can't claim any epiphanies. Just alone with myself, unless you count the curious on lookers that watch me. I found a nice place near the pond to practice. Wouldn't be surprised if there something on utube." He smiles, "Glad someone gets it. Some people when they hear Martial Arts, they think of those Kung Fu B movies, stuff out of popular shows, and MMA on TV." He is relaxed in the chair but attentive. "Only important thing I'd add are the Ethics that go with it.

"And how do these ethics apply to you?" Olivia inquires. Nothing about her seems clinical, rehearsed, or scripted. She is natural, relaxed, and curious.

Devlin says, "Good question. Easiest way to answer that is to tell you about something that happened to me in Iraq. Short version, I was with a convoy. An IDE went off, disabling a vehicle. A firefight broke out and during it, I ran up to help the victims. While I was treating wounded, this guy popped out of the bushes and opened fire on my wounded. I grabbed my sixteen and put him down with a burst before he got to me. Few minutes later, he was one of my patients. I treated him and got him evaced with the other patients."

Her posture is correct yet Olivia looks comfortable as she listens, taking it all in. "That's quite an experience. What was it like being both the man who shot him in defense of your own men and then the man trying to save his life? Did it stick with you? You told the story as if it connected to the ethics of your athletic meditation."

Devlin says, "I've been practicing the arts since I was seven. Dad thought it would put our energies to good use. He happened to hook us up with a traditional school. Dad was good at making sure we went to traditional schools growing up. So yes.. it sticks with me. Not sure if it shows in the files, my family is one of those that we have a lot serving in every generation. I happened to be the first medic. I guess, I couldn't balance what my Sifu's taught me with being a grunt or tanker, let alone a red leg. I may fight but I save lives." He chuckles, "I am no Desmond Doss, but I do my best."

"Alright then. You had quite an experience with that convoy and the attackers. Plenty of violence to deal with along with the goal of saving lives. Does the contrast ever bother you?" Olivia jots a few short things down on her legal pad, but her glacier-blue eyes hardly seem to leave their study of Devlin.

Devlin shakes his head, "At times it felt surreal but it comes with the territory. You do your best to deny Death. But he does take people. War gets people killed." He pauses for a moment, "I hate it when Death takes one of my patients but I make him work for it. Just like he's made me work to keep someone alive. You asked about my Martial Arts and how they apply to what I do as a sixty eight whiskey. I do my best to show compassion where there is little and alleviate the suffering of others."

If Olivia is uneducated in the military terms, she doesn't let them interrupt the conversation. "Then let's backtrack a bit, shall we?" She takes a slow breath in and then exhales just as slowly before inquiring, "How did the proceedings in California leave your thoughts about yourself and your career?" Right to it, then.

He takes a long slow breath, "Wow.. straight to my short trip to my unexpected Hell. But fair enough, I take it you have seen what the paper's say and read Doc K's notes." This time he doesn't pause, "I was ambushed by politicians and never saw it coming. At first I thought it was just a rough night but we saved three souls. Then two days later, the news stories broke on TV and I got the call that I was on administrative leave pending review. I never knew that kid was some State Senator's pride and joy. Then again, it wouldn't matter to me. Still would make the same choices." He takes another breath, "Then the tone turned personal in the news.. and from Senator Gomez his public statements attacking everything about me. I was angry, confused, and just felt sick."

Olivia listens with an open yet attentive affect, her gaze steady, her position in the chair still save for the faint rise and fall of her slow breaths. He goes through the basics of it and she dips her chin as he covers what she's read in his file. "But where does it leave you now? Do you think of it often? Do you think it impacts your work or your professional relationships?"

Devlin says, "Yeah, it killed my shot at being a medic for a SWAT team. And to get this job, a friend I worked with in the Army asked for me in his command. Then one of his guys found out about the slot here and hooked me up so I could apply. I think the Fire chief nearly shit a brick during the interview as I don't think he imagined getting someone this experienced." He asked me about LA. I told him and gave him the numbers of 2 other paramedics there. Week later, I got the offer."

"So it turned out well here, despite the lost of your hoped-for SWAT position. The offer here was expansive and welcoming, yes? No doubts here or collisions that cause you to stumble?" Olivia jots a few things down. Not much, though.

Devlin says, "I'd be lying if I said I didn't take some time for myself. I had some self doubts.. felt lost.. not working unless I was doing a Guard weekend.. I might have been depressed too as I look back at it. Just a bad time for me and yes.. even doubted my own skills for a short time. It was weeks before I stopped going over my choices that night. Kept doing that till First Sergeant Tillman dragged my ass to the E club. We spent a few hours over good whiskey and him chewing my ass out for the self doubt. Next morning, had a bit of a hang over.. but his words stuck.""

"And now?" Olivia asks. "How would you characterize your mindset around your job and your estimation of your skills?"

Devlin says, "I love what I do. I have to say I'm at the top of my game again. Don't need to be a SWAT team medic.. guess the risk there was not the rush I need." He smiles with a chuckle. "Mind you.. Smoke Jumpers have approached me. I turned it down. I've gotten my basic water rescue certification and recently got basic firefighter certification."

"It sounds as though you have found your center in more ways than one. Why is it, do you think, that you have continued to see Dr. Kosimar?" Olivia taps the tip of her pen three times against her legal pad, a light scritch of sound. Otherwise the stillness. The listening. The observation. The inquisitive demeanor.

Devlin says, "To help some Bureaucrats feel their asses are covered."

Olivia's pale blue eyes are bright as she watches the man make his cynical conclusion. "And that is all? Why, then, seek me out?"

Devlin says, "Covering my ass.. in case they decide to continue these sessions. Though, Dr Kosimar did say I needed to get out more, should make more friends, and get laid." He chuckles with the last one, "Her words... but I did date for a bit, but Morigan's career took off and she took a position with Coast Guard as a rescue diver."

"What say does anyone in California have over you here and now?" Continuing the sessions? "Getting out more, making friends, broadening your personal life, and, yes, getting laid if that is the sort of romantic relationship you prefer: these are all good suggestions. Have you been following them?"Olivia's eyes relay the warmth of a smile that does not touch at her red lips.

Devlin chuckles a bit, "Well, on the surface, I would have to say it is possible that one of the Senator Gomez's friends is trying to make things difficult. But I think it will pass. Just a guess on my part is all." He nods a bit, "Yeah.. to a point I have. Over time does make things difficult." The chuckle becomes a smile, "I would rather something deeper in the romance department in all honesty. Just have to see what happens."

Olivia closes the cover of the leather portfolio atop her knee that contains the legal pad and recaps her fountain pen, resting it lightly beneath a thumb against the leather. "I will be happy to provide you with enough evidence of irrelevant follow-through should any politicians come looking. But I have some doubt that once you left the state you remained on his 'list'." To a point he has. "Make yourself available. Attend some social events. Meet people who also do Tai Chi or have a drink somewhere and strike up a conversation. I have a suspicion you won't be lacking for options, Devlin." Now she smiles, by definition. "Is there anything further you want to discuss?"

Devlin smiles, "I appreciate that Olivia." He hmms, "How about lunch? or Dinner?"

Olivia pushes to her feet as Devlin's words take him out of the zone of further therapy type conversation. "I frequently join the fraternity happy hour. Perhaps I'll see you there?" The police department (and Fire, too) all attend a bi-weekly happy hour at the Pourhouse. It's an ongoing tradition. She waits for Devlin to stand up as well, holding her pen and her portfolio against one skirted thigh.

Devlin stands up, "I have tipped a few pints there after a shift. I will see you there then."

Olivia lifts a hand to touch her palm and manicured fingers lightly against the strong Paramedic's shoulder. "Counting on it. You're a good man, Devlin. The road ahead is full of opportunities that will challenge and intrigue you." That said, she drops her hand away and skirts around her chair to head back over toward her desk.

As he leaves, "Thank you again. And looking forward to seeing you at the PourHouse. Do open or closed?" What ever way you request is how he leaves it before he heads off.