Dreamweaver (Hell Yeah!)

by Sable Hunter

  “Will you go to the doctor with me?” Judah asked out of the blue.

  “Why, sure I will.” He rose to join his friend. “When do you want to go?”

  “Now, I have an appointment in a half hour.”

  They were back in Austin, in between tour stops. Judah hadn’t wanted to be alone, so Zion was staying with him until they got back on the road. “I’m ready when you are.”

  “Will you drive?” Judah asked, feeling like he was heading to the gallows. Desperate to hear her voice, he’d called Pepper, but hung up before she could answer.

  “Sure. I’m parked on the street.” He led Judah to his burnt orange Wrangler Jeep. “What’s going on with the doctor?”

  Ignoring the parking meter hurling insults at him, Judah stuffed his hands in his pockets and bowed his head as if facing a harsh north wind. “They have a verdict, I get diagnosed today.”

  “Damn.” Zion slid behind the steering wheel. “Well, maybe this is a good thing. Maybe, once they know what the problem is, there’ll be something they can do to make you feel better.”

  Thinking of Pepper, he nodded. “Maybe. Depends on what he has to say.”

  Once they arrived, Zion entered the medical office with him. “Do you want me to wait out here?” He indicated a lobby with chairs and a coffee pot.

  “Yea, I don’t need you to hold my hand.” Judah felt a wave of remorse. “I’ve got to go see my parents. They don’t understand what’s going on with me. No matter what this quack has to say, I need to head over there when we finish here. Okay?”

  “We’ll do whatever you need to do, buddy.” Zion found a chair and picked up a magazine. “If you need me, come get me.”

  Judah took the elevator to the fourth floor, then made his way down a long green hall to the psychiatrist’s office. His dread increased with every step. During the past few days, he’d avoided thinking about this. He did know one thing, this would be a red-letter day in his life. Judah knew that he’d define the events of his life as either having happened before or after this day. When he came to the opaque glass door, he hesitated.

  “What are you waiting for psycho? Someone to roll out the red carpet?”

  He jerked his head around and stared at the water cooler giving him a hard time. “Fuck off,” he muttered as he entered the office to face his fate.

  He’d no more than sat down before the receptionist called his name. “Mr. James, the doctor will see you now.”

  Giving the woman a polite smile, he followed her to the psychiatrist’s office. Upon entering, he made his way to the couch and found a seat. Nervous, Judah picked up a Texas Highway’s magazine and thumbed through it, barely aware of the beautiful photos of wildflowers growing along central Texas roadways.

  When the outer door clicked and the doctor joined him, Judah chunked the periodical down and tried to exhibit an air of nonchalance. “Dr. Jergen.”

  “Judah, how are you feeling?”

  “Passable.” Physically, he felt fine – except for the hypertension, hyperventilating, and hyper-whatever that came along with the situation. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  In typical psychiatrist fashion, the doctor seemed to be in no hurry to get down to business. “Well, as you know we performed both physical tests and psychological tests.”

  “I know, I was there.”

  Dr. Jergen smiled a faint, token smile. “As you know, we found no physical cause of your problems.”

  “And?”

  “Did you have more insight into your problem after writing in the journal?”

  Judah made a painful admission. “It was enlightening, putting everything down in black and white.”

  The doctor made a temple of his fingers, resting his elbows on his desk. “You’re a very intelligent, talented man, Mr. James. In light of all that’s happened to you and in view of what you’ve discovered about yourself through introspection, do you have any insight into your condition?”

  “I’m paying you to make that assessment.”

  The doctor nodded. “Very well. Your psychological tests proved to be more fruitful than the physical ones.” He let out a long breath. “What I’m about to tell you is not a death sentence, it doesn’t have to be a stigma, or a label that will define you as a person. It’s a place for us to start, to find a medication that will alleviate many of the symptoms causing your distress.”

  “Please quit beating around the bush, Doc,” Judah was about to jump out of his own skin. “Just say it.”

  “All right. This term covers a broad spectrum of mental disorders, but your symptoms can best be described by the word…schizophrenia.”

  Schizophrenia.

  Judah didn’t know what he’d been expecting, he guessed he shouldn’t be surprised – but the one word pronouncement seemed to hang like a heavy axe over his head. Now, there was no doubt in his mind…he’d done the right thing pushing Pepper away. She deserved so much more than he could give her.

  * * *

  “Let’s get out of here,” Judah stormed by Zion with a couple of prescriptions held tightly in his hand.

  Throwing down the magazine he’d been holding, Zion took off after his friend. “What’s wrong? What did the doctor say?”

  Judah said nothing until he reached the Jeep, then he placed both hands on the roof of the Jeep and leaned on it for support. “I’m crazy.”

  “Well…we sorta knew that, didn’t we?” Zion tried to crack a joke, but he could see it wasn’t going over very well. “Sorry.” He unlocked the doors and crawled in, pressing the start button. “So, what did he say?”

  “Dr. Jergen informed me that I’m schizophrenic.”

  Zion didn’t say anything for a long time. He pulled out into the street. “Do you need to go to a drug store?”

  “I guess so.” Judah stared out the window. “I knew I had problems, I knew something was wrong. I just didn’t think I was really, truly insane.”

  “You’re not!” Zion insisted. “You are the sanest person I know. You create beautiful music, you perform in front of major crowds. You cut business deals. You made good grades in school. Hell, you’re the best friend a man could have. I don’t see where crazy fits into that at all.”

  “I see things that aren’t there, I hear voices no one else hears – you know that.” Judah felt anguished, his chest felt tight. He wondered if he was having a heart attack. “Schizophrenic. Schizoid. Skitzo!”

  Zion put on his blinker and turned into the parking lot of a CVS. Judah started to exit the vehicle and Zion stopped him. “Wait. I want to say something before you get out.”

  Judah held the door handle in his hand, but he stopped.

  “I’ve heard the word all my life, schizophrenia, but I’m not really sure what it means. I don’t know how many people do. What I do know – is you. And any label a doctor chooses to put on what you’re going through doesn’t change who you are.”

  …Once he’d filled his prescription, Judah returned to the Jeep, staring at the long names on the medicine bottles. “If these make me groggy or unable to think, I’m not taking them.”

  “Just give them a try, reserve judgment.” Zion waited for Judah to fasten his seatbelt. “We’re going to your folks, right?”

  “No. I don’t want them to know.” Judah shook his head. “I can’t tell them. They’ll look at me differently. You know, you never see organized walks to end this condition. No T-shirts. Everyone will see me differently, if they find out. They’ll fear me, they won’t empathize with me.”

  “Don’t be so sure, Judah. People might be more understanding than you think.”

  Judah unscrewed the pill bottles and popped the prescribed dosage. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

  * * *

  Two weeks later…

  “I don’t care what you have to do, I want the refrigerator on the bus filled with bottles of Bling water.” Ivana stomped her foot, staring at Reese defiantly.

  Judah turned his captain’s chair as far to
the right as he could, trying to ignore their conversation.

  “James, speak up here. I’m at a loss.” Their manager appealed for help in dealing with the want-to-be-diva.

  “We’re not stocking water that costs forty dollars a bottle, that’s just stupid, Ivana,” Judah muttered dryly, his back still turned to them. Ivana was proving to be a handful. He’d boarded the bus and walked in on her going down on a girl the day before. When they’d beckoned him to join them, Judah just pulled his cap down over his eyes and fled to the back of the bus.

  “I demand to be treated with respect! If you won’t give me what I want, I’ll tell Uncle Mickey!”

  Reese crossed his arms, trying to keep his cool. “You are a valuable performer, but our travel allowance won’t cover such extravagances.”

  Judah stood, needing to get away from their spat. He had bigger problems to worry about than pacifying the immature woman. He’d received a text from Pepper, she was coming to tonight’s concert and she’d asked to see him.

  Making his way to the front of the bus, he tapped Zion on the shoulder. “Scoot over. This bus isn’t big enough for all of us. I think I’d rather hitch-hike to New Orleans.”

  Zion held up his earphones. “This is my escape. I drown them out.”

  Judah grinned at his friend. “Since I’ve been taking those drugs, I don’t even have my psychosis to distract me. Where’s a good hallucination when you need one?”

  “You are doing better, aren’t you?”

  Shrugging, Judah stared at the ribbon of road ahead of them. “I guess it depends on how you define improvement. The drugs make me drowsy and nauseous. I have to cut the dose way down on days I have to perform.” He held up his hand. “And they make me shake.” He clenched his fist. “Even worse, they’ve robbed me of my muse. I haven’t written a thing.”

  “Aren’t there other drugs you could try? Maybe you haven’t found the right combination.”

  “Maybe.” He cut a glance at Zion. “Pepper’s coming to the concert.”

  “Great! Does this mean you’re getting back together?”

  Judah could see the hopeful expression on his friend’s face. “I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair to her.”

  “I disagree. You two have something special.”

  “There’s no cure for what I have, all I can do is tamp down the symptoms.”

  “You need to be honest with her, Judah.” Zion shook his head. “I hate to see you make a mistake. She cares for you.”

  Caring wasn’t the issue, he cared too much. “I’m just trying to do the right thing, Zion.” And it hurt like hell.

  …Ryder slowed her Lexus down to a stop. “Can you believe traffic has come to a standstill to allow an alligator to cross the road?”

  Pepper peered over the dashboard. “Well, you certainly wouldn’t want to run over the thing, it would be worse than hitting a big deer.”

  While the thirteen-foot giant ambled across the highway, Ryder studied her pretty sister’s face. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m good. Excited,” Pepper told her, still keeping most of what transpired between her and Judah to herself. “I can’t wait to see him again.”

  Ryder gave her a sly look. “You like him a lot, don’t you? I remember when you said he was your future husband.”

  “Yes.” This she could answer truthfully. “I do. And…” Pepper chewed on her lower lip, trying to say what she needed to say in the best way possible, “if I choose to spend some time with him after the concert, you’ll have to find someplace else to stay.”

  “What?!” Ryder’s surprise echoed through the swamp.

  “I think we can go now,” Pepper said, pointing to the tail of the large gator as it disappeared into the grass at the side of the road.

  Ryder pressed the gas, but she still nailed her sister with a stare. “You’re planning on spending the night with him!”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I’m just forewarning you that it’s a possibility.” She didn’t explain the rollercoaster ride of emotion she’d been on the past few weeks. From elation to despair to confusion.

  “Heath would have a spell!” Ryder clutched the steering wheel with a death grip.

  “Heath is absolutely besotted with Cato, he’s not paying attention to us.”

  “Our family is going through one storm after another, Pepper. Now’s the time for us to stick together, not hide things from one another.”

  Not wanting to argue, she didn’t point out that she knew Ryder would be with the Dukes if given half a chance. “Judah said our tickets would be waiting at the box office window. If you want to, we could stop and eat some Cajun food before we head to the Superdome. Emeril Lagasse’s restaurant is fairly close, I think.”

  Ryder smiled. “Sounds good to me, I’m starving.”

  …Meanwhile, at the Superdome…

  “Tell Arnold to allow Pepper in my dressing room after the concert,” Judah informed one of their roadies.

  “Pepper McCoy? I thought you had moved on from that little Miss Goody Two-Shoes,” Ivana spoke with disdain as she adjusted her costume, making sure Judah got an eyeful.

  “My love life is none of your business.” He looked her up and down, showing no interest in what he was seeing. “What’s with the striptease? I thought you were a lesbian.”

  “I’m bi and very much attracted to you, sexy.” She leered at him, her eyes full of sensual promise. “I’ll be glad to prove just how much any time you say.”

  “Not interested.” Judah walked away. He had other things on his mind. Since receiving the cruel diagnosis, he had struggled with the meaning of his life. He still hadn’t told his parents, but he knew they realized something was wrong. Judah had managed to hide most of his problems from them, they didn’t know the extent of his hallucinations. His mother attributed his moodiness and mood swings to his ‘creative genius’. The thought made him smile. Since the doctor lowered the boom and laid it on the line, he’d done his own research. Like Zion, his source of knowledge about his condition came from the media. What he’d learned since then had opened his eyes, schizophrenia was an umbrella term that covered many disorders involving everything from thought and perception, to behavior and communication. There was no one definition and no one treatment. He knew this would be a lifelong struggle and he couldn’t see involving another person in the nightmare, much less a woman like Pepper.

  “Judah! Judah! Wait!” Judah turned around, shocked to hear her voice.

  “Pepper? I thought you were coming back after the concert?”

  She ran up to him and stopped. “I couldn’t stay away. You need me.”

  “Look, this isn’t going to work.” He reached out to touch her and she faded from view.

  She’d never been there to begin with.

  “Hell!” He looked around, noticing several people had stopped to stare, watching him converse with thin air. “What are you looking at?” he snapped. “Get back to work!”

  …Judah played to a sold-out Superdome. The energy in the building was phenomenal. He put everything he had into the set, feeding off the adulation of the audience. Even Ivana had brought down the house, no one would be leaving disappointed tonight. He’d experienced some unrest, a few voices in his head. But he quelled them, using the adrenaline rush the concert gave him to fuel his performance. Or maybe there was another reason Judah felt like he was riding such a high, a certain blue-eyed blonde who stood out among the masses. To him, it was as if the face of every person in the crowd was blurred with the exception of hers.

  He sung for her. His eyes seldom strayed from hers. Every word and note proceeding from his mouth was dedicated to Pepper McCoy.

  …Pepper didn’t know if it was her imagination or not, but Judah seemed to be singing right to her. She stood with his fans, but she didn’t scream or shout. She just held his gaze, letting every word from his mouth soothe her soul.

  When the concert was over, she followed Ryder to the nearest seating area. “I’m going backstage. R
yder, you wait here and I’ll come back and tell you my plans.”

  Ryder gave her a hug. “All right, take your time. The line at the bathroom will be around the block.”

  Trying to be optimistic, Pepper headed down the hall, sidestepping groupies and weaving her way between stage hands moving lights and sound equipment. Ahead, she could see Judah’s dressing room guarded by a bald-headed behemoth who stood with crossed arms and hooded eyes. She moved forward hesitantly and was relieved when the stoic giant gave her a smile. “Hello, Miss McCoy. Judah is expecting you.”

  Pepper’s heart soared. “Thank you, Arnold,” she said, reading his name tag.

  Arnold opened the door and Pepper entered. Surprisingly, the room was dim. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust. When they did, she saw Judah sitting on a couch, leaning forward, his head in his hands. He looked exhausted, but he had the right, his performance had been outstanding. “Judah?”

  Judah jerked his head up, then he stared at Pepper oddly. “I didn’t hear the door open.”

  “I’m sorry. Arnold let me in, I should have knocked.” She gave him a shy smile, edging a little closer. “Your music was fabulous. I loved every moment.”

  He stood and moved toward her, putting out a hand to touch her shoulder. If Pepper didn’t know better, she’d have thought he was making sure she was really there. He looked relieved when she covered his hand with her own.

  “You shouldn’t have come.”

  Dismay and hurt washed over her. “I thought you would want to see me.”

  He did. Judah steeled himself to lie to the one woman who could possibly be his salvation. “I did want to see you, to tell you that what we had is over.”

  Pepper swayed with the emotional impact of his words. “I can’t believe that, we were so happy. What we shared was…”

  “Casual. A one-night stand. I’m a musician, this is what we do. I’ve moved on.”

  Every syllable he uttered was like a knife in her breast. “No, that’s not true. I remember what you said, you said I was your girl. The way we kissed, the way we made love – Judah, that was real.”

  Before he knew it, truth slipped from his lips. Taking one lock of her long golden hair, he wound it around his finger. “Sometimes I have a problem discerning what’s real and what’s not.” The silence between them stretched out as he tried to gather the courage to do what needed to be done. Taking two steps back, he threw up his hands. “This was all a mistake. You need to go home, Pepper. I don’t have time to baby-sit you. There’s a real woman waiting for me in my bed.”