Just Beyond the Curve (13 page)

Billy huffed angrily, leaned back in his chair and
pouted. As hard as he tried he couldn’t stop his tears from sliding
from his eyes. He cried, then leaned over into Misty’s lap, his
shoulders bouncing.

Then Misty began to cry and comfort her son at the
same time, sharing his misery, feeling his pain.

Jake moved over and held her in his arms, patting her
back gently. He stared at Adam, who was rocking lil Billy and
watching him comfort Misty. He smiled grimly, then stood and began
pacing. He carried the infant like a child’s doll in his arms. The
child and blanket nearly lost in his massive, gentle arms.

Black led Judy into the Intensive Care Unit and to
John’s bed. Seeing him so helpless and hurt broke her heart as
nothing else had been able to do. It was just now that she realized
she could lose this man forever. Her eyes scanned the machines and
monitors that were keeping him alive, so far.

“He looks so helpless,” she said softly, wiping her
tears.

“He is,” Black agreed. “But, he’s getting the best
care possible. If he wasn’t such a fighter, he’d be in the morgue
now instead of here. He’s a strong man, Missus Travis. Have faith,”
he added, handing her a Kleenex.

Judy nodded her head, wiped her eyes, then blew her
nose softly. She stepped over to John and kissed him gently on the
forehead, then stood up straight and squared her shoulders. “He’ll
live,” she said. “I know he will!”

She turned to leave, then turned back and whispered
in John’s ear, “I love you, John. Please get well. I’ll be back
later, I promise.”

She turned away, nodded her head at Black and he
escorted her from the I.C.U. and back to the waiting room.

Outside the waiting room several reporters waited in
ambush for her. Several held cameras and a few more held
microphones. They reminded Judy of vultures; waiting on the
devastation of someone’s life upon which to feed, then spew out to
an uncaring and selfish public.

“Reporters!” she said indignantly stopping and
turning to Black. “What happened to privacy?”

“I’ll handle it, Missus Travis,” he assured her.
“Just stay calm and say as little as possible.”

Lindsey Poe was petite but aggressive. She had been
compared to a Chihuahua and was proud of the comparison. She tried
to live up to her nickname, ‘Chichi’. She stepped forward and
thrust the hand held microphone under her chin and said, “Missus
Travis, Lindsey Poe, Channel Twenty-Seven News. Would you like to
comment on your husband’s condition?”

Black stepped in front of Judy and said, “I’m Doctor
Jared Black. I performed the emergency surgery when Mister Travis
was brought in. Please direct your questions to me. Missus Travis
is in no way prepared to answer your questions at this time. She
needs to get back to her family and inform them of her husband’s
current condition.”

The reporters converged on Black giving Judy a chance
to slip, for the most part, away unnoticed.

“Doctor Black,” Poe said, “would you confirm for all
Country Music fans what Mister Travis’ condition is at this
time?”

“Mister Travis is alive,” Black said solemnly. “He
suffered three gunshot wounds to the torso. All three potentially
life threatening. I expect...” was all Judy heard before she
entered the waiting room and her family. They all stood when she
entered, then gathered around her and listened as she told them
about John.

An hour later Billy and Misty were asleep on the
waiting room sofa-like seats. Judy sat staring at the small color
TV mounted on the wall at the opposite end from the door. Adam and
Dempsey had gone to the studio after learning that John was in
intensive care and expected to recover. They had promised to be
back later. The TV was tuned to CNN and at the mention of John’s
name; Judy began to listen to the reporter.

“...John Travis, the country western star was shot
several times as he left a recording studio in Austin, Texas, last
night. Sources close to the singer say he is expected to make a
full recovery, but that it will be several months before he will
continue recording his album, ‘Just Beyond The Curve, dedicated to
his late father, John Travis, Senior, who died in a fiery car crash
at the peak of his career nearly twenty years ago. John Travis,
Junior’s assailant was restrained at the scene by band members and
is currently in custody charged with attempted murder. Various
other charges are pending. We at CNN send our prayers and well
wishes to the Travis family for a speedy recovery.”

Jake entered the room behind Judy and stopped to
listen to the reporter. When she finished speaking and went on to
another story Jake laid his hand gently on her shoulder and said
softly, “Judy, you need to come see this.”

“Come see what, Jake?” she replied, looking up at him
sadly.

Jake smiled for the first time since John had been
shot and said, “Sugar, I believe half of Austin is outside in the
parking lot awaiting assurance from you that their Bard is alive.
You should talk to them, Judy. They’re your family, too. Not to
mention John’s fans.”

“What would I say, Jake?” she asked, her eyes tired,
red rimmed and filled with misery.

“Just tell them the truth, that’s all. They deserve
it from you and not some reporter who is trying to make a dollar
from this tragedy.”

“Will you go with me? I’ve never spoken to a crowd
before.”

“Every step of the way, Sugar!” he assured her,
taking her into his arms for a hug, remembering the devastated girl
in the parking lot he had also held through her misery. He had
assured her as well, that her life would get better in time. She
had explained the death of her father during her debut performance
at the Wagon Wheel.

“I love you, Jake,” Judy said, looking up into his
handsome, but awkward eyes.

“Must be my talent,” he said with a big grin. “I’m
the only man you ever met who can look down his long aristocratic
nose and tell you what’s going on to the north and south at the
same time!”

Judy laughed for the first time. “They’re not that
crossed!” she exclaimed.

“The hell they ain’t!” he chided her, leading her
toward the door. “I’m such a good drummer cause I see four drum
sticks in each hand and I only use the middle two!”

“Jake, quit joking me!” she said, slapping him
playfully on the shoulder, picking the baby up and following him
out the door.

“I ain’t jokin’ ya,” he declared, leading her toward
a bank of elevators.

“What am I gonna say?” she asked, as the doors opened
and they stepped inside.

“You’ll think of something,” he said, then pushed the
button that would take her to John’s fans.

The ride down to the lobby was made in silence. Both
she and Jake were deep in their own thoughts, then the door opened
and they walked to the double door and out onto the sidewalk where
a group of near fifty people stood around talking. They grew silent
and turned to face Judy when she stopped and looked at them
nervously.

“First off,” she said seriously, in a loud calm tone,
“John is alive...”

The crowd cheered and mumbled itself to silence so
Judy could continue.

“He is in bad shape. But he is strong. I haven’t been
to see him yet this morning. However, when I do, I will inform you
of his condition. John thinks of you all as his family. So do I.
So, as family I will keep you informed until he can with his own
voice. We appreciate your concern and your prayers. Thank you.”
Judy stood silent for a moment, then turned for the door.

“Missus Travis?” Janice said, her voice sad and
heartbroken, her eyes shifting from Judy to the baby, then Jake and
back.

“Yes?” Judy asked turning back looking at the child
like woman who looked so devastated.

“Will you tell John that we love him?”

“It will be my honor, Miss...”

“Janice Reeves.”

“Miss Reeves. I’ll tell him.” Judy started to turn
away again, then looked back at Janice and said, “If you like, Miss
Reeves, when John’s better I’ll take you up and you can tell him
yourself.”

“You’d really do that for me?”

“I would be honored, Janice,” Judy said with a
smile.

“What would I say?” Janice asked seriously. “I’ve
never met a star before.”

“You’ll think of something,” Judy said, remembering
that Jake had told her the same thing earlier. “John doesn’t really
consider himself a star. Just a man who makes his living singing.
You will find him one of the most down to earth men you’ve ever met
in your life.”

“Thank you, Missus Travis,” Janice said, wiping her
tears, thinking of her father and how down to earth he was.

Judy stepped forward and hugged Janice, then stepped
back, turned and walked back into the hospital. Jake winked at
Janice; she smiled shyly, then he turned and followed Judy
inside.

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

During the next few weeks Judy sat vigil at John’s
bedside. The crowd stood vigil outside and the country held its
collective breath waiting on news that John Travis was awake and
ready to get back to work on his album. Janice had taken off a few
days to make funeral arrangements for her father and see him
properly laid to rest. She learned about the money she had been
left and was surprised to learn she was nearly a millionairess. She
should have known her father had provided for her, but for some
reason she had never even thought about it. She figured he would
always be there, to see her grown, married and raising her own
family. Now he was gone and she stood in front of the hospital
fretting over a man she didn’t know and thinking of a man she had
hardly even met. She had only seen him through tears and a veil of
abject sorrow. Still, he had been gentle and kind and concerned
enough to assure her everything would be alright.

She stood in the parking lot beside her pickup
sipping soda through a straw and looking up at the windows,
wondering which of them was to the room of John Travis. She
wondered when the singer would awaken and announce to the world
that a few small pieces of lead was not enough to stop him from his
goal; like the death of her father had done hers.

The liquid gurgled in the bottom of the cup and she
set the cup of ice in the console cup holder and closed the door.
When it melted she would drink some more of it. The day was growing
warmer and would be hot by lunch. She would need all the liquid she
could get to make it through the hot Texas summer day.

She walked toward the small crowd to stand vigil with
them. She had come to know several of the regulars and enjoyed
talking to them. She was not attracted to any of them, thinking of
them as star struck wannabes. But each time she saw Jake Strum, the
drummer of the Travelers, her heart felt as if it were floating in
her chest. She became breathless and nearly speechless at the same
time. She knew him to be the kindest, warmest, man she had ever
known since her late boyfriend, whom she had given her virginity to
only to be kicked aside like a strumpet, a common whore, on
graduation night three years ago. Since then she had lived only for
herself and her father. Now, once again she was alone and her heart
cried out for comfort. Jake Strum filled that void and made her
feel alive and that her world was not empty. She hoped he would be
able to keep their lunch date with her today. She liked being
around him. He was funny and said things that made her wonder what
he really believed about life and fortune. She doubted he had any
real hang-ups except for his slightly crossed eyes. She didn’t
think they were that bad; hardly noticeable unless one was really
looking for the misalignment.

Something drew her eyes to a fifth floor window.
Standing there looking down at her was the man occupying her
thoughts. She waved to him shyly and he turned away from the window
without acknowledgement. She felt her heart sink, then thought
maybe he hadn’t seen her.

Less than five minutes later Jake came out the front
door. He walked directly to her and smiled. He pulled her gently
into his arms and hugged her tenderly. “How you holding up, Kiddo?”
he asked, whispering in her ear.

“I’m okay,” she replied, hugging him back. “How’s
John?”

“Still asleep,” Jake replied. “Judy’s with him now.
Wanna go up and wait in the waiting room with the rest of us
hangers-on?”

“Na, I don’t ever feel like I can talk in a place
like that,” she replied.

“Come on, you can talk all you want. Billy needs
someone new to talk to. He’s tired of talking to me and the other
fellas, and his mom. Please?” Jake pleaded with a begging
smile.

“Well,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe for just a
while.”

Jake seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. He didn’t
say that they were thinking that John was going to wake up at any
time. Or that Doctor Black had been suggesting that certain changes
on the monitors indicated that John was pulling out of his coma.
Nor did he tell her that he wanted her there with him instead of
out here in the parking lot.

Jake had no way of knowing that in the ICU Judy sat
beside John’s bed watching him very carefully. She held his hand
while brushing the hairy back of it tenderly with her fingertips.
Her exhaustion showed in her face and her eyes and nose were red
from crying.

After a while she leaned forward and rested her
forehead on her hands, then her cheek over onto the edge of the
bed. Before she knew it she was asleep with her lips pressed gently
to the back of his hand and her fingers held gently in his hand.
She was unaware of the first time he gently squeezed her fingers
and silently whispered her name. She slept on.

She awakened when his fingers gently brushed her
cheek and he called her name again. She looked up into his face,
then into his staring eyes.

She felt her heart leap into her throat, then she
kissed his lips and said, “Hello Stranger,” then kissed him
again.