Crow - The Awakening (16 page)

"Hey there, Steven. Bees are tucked in and holding strong this winter, thanks to you." James stood up, and Steven's godparents followed suit, acting a little uncomfortable.

"Can we talk to you for a minute?" Sally asked, wringing her hands. Steven could tell she was upset but couldn't imagine whatever for. It was practically impossible that they could have discovered his surreptitious computing endeavors.

Steven raised an eyebrow. "Okay?" He suddenly felt like a deer in the headlights. James was there, so his computing habits probably had not been busted. What else was there that they could possibly be upset for? His mind raced but came up empty.

"I was picking up your clothes and found this." She pointed to his sketchpad on the coffee table that was open.

Steven was appalled. "Sally, that's like..." he searched for the word, "...like my diary!"

"I know. I'm really sorry and it was an accident, but we still need to talk." Sally was on the verge of tears, clearly upset that she invaded his personal space but at the same time most definitely afraid of something far more than just his sketches. Steven looked at her and she looked so small all of a sudden. His heart ached for her, and he took her hand.

Steven sat on the sofa with her and closed his sketchbook. Part of him was feeling a little violated. But even so, there was nothing in his sketchbooks that could possibly be so upsetting and he was concerned for Sally. He looked up at them. "Talk about what? I feel like you caught me smoking or something." He looked at Sally. "Sally, please don't be so upset."

Sally smiled at him, tearing up. She wiped her cheeks as she looked over at Jonah. Steven felt he was very obviously missing part of the picture.

"You are not in trouble, Steven," Jonah assured him.

Sally nodded at Jonah and looked quickly back at Steven. "Yes, you not in trouble at all, dear. We are just very concerned and want to talk with you," she expounded on Jonah's simple declaration.

"Who is that drawing of, Steven?" James asked calmly. He had stood so quietly that Steven almost forgot he was there.

"Asherah," Steven answered quickly. He hesitated, wondering if he should have answered. None of them know about Asherah yet and he wasn't sure how to break it to them. He had never had any relationship before and this was breaking new ground for him.

"Is she your friend?" The psychologist sat down next to Steven and leaned back on the couch, taking a relaxed posture.

"Well, yes, she is." Steven stopped and looked down. She was so much more than that now but above everything she was still his friend too. However, something else was dawning on him. James let him work it out and handed him a steaming cup of herbal tea. Steven held the warm cup as he thought, taking a long sip reflexively.

"I... she..." Steven had trouble trying to find the words. Something occurred to him that he had not considered for years. His legs grew numb and he tried desperately to push the thought out of his mind. He could feel her. She was so real. But the thought wouldn't go away and Steven shivered suddenly. She was effectively his imaginary friend. But it was all so real. How could it not be? This afternoon was so phenomenal. The past five years. He would be lost without Asherah.

He remembered the meadow. The real meadow, which he had not seen in five years. With the grass and the dead snag sticking out of the center. Every time he went there it was the tropical paradise he had grown accustomed to. He accepted that as real. It no longer even registered how odd it was, even when the meadow was surrounded by snow and the chill of winter. James looked at him, following his facial cues as Steven thought this out. Steven absentmindedly finished off the cup and put it down on the heavy, rustic coffee table. His numbness had traveled up from his legs to his arms and head and suddenly he had such a strong case of vertigo that he had to sit back. Sally enveloped him in her arms, but he didn't notice her.

"For most, imaginary friends are not generally a problem and usually are a method of coping that kids grow out of as they mature. It's perfectly natural." James leaned forward and put his hand on Steven's shoulder. "But for some, whatever they are trying to work out is so hard that this coping method becomes real to them, even though part of them knows it's not."

"But it hasn't been a problem." Steven was still shivering as he looked at his godparents. "I've done my schooling, I do my chores, I'm not antisocial or anything. Right?" He was reaching desperately. He knew, but didn't want to know and felt nauseous. Faced with reality, how could he argue? But he desperately wanted to argue, wanted the facts to go away. Asherah was his love, his soul mate. How could she be anything but real?

"Oh honey, you're a delight!" Sally held him tighter and he could feel her tears on his cheek. Jonah sat down in his favorite chair by the fireplace and stoked the fire with the iron poker. Sally looked at Jonah, completely at a loss. Steven could tell she was worried, but couldn't figure out why. What was there to be so afraid of?

"When was the last time you thought about your parents, Steven?" James asked calmly. Steven suddenly remembered the videos and a shock went up his spine, instantly driving his shivering away. His parents, he found them, or rather he found evidence that they existed.

"Uhm..." He wasn't sure how to answer. Except for a couple of trusted confidants, no one knew about the search, that he was sure of. But that he was obsessed with his biological parents wasn't exactly a secret. "Today?" He looked sheepishly at Sally. He had been engrossed with finding his parents for many years now, on a daily basis. Nearly everything he did had something to do with the search. Even keeping bees and selling honey was a way to finance the search. It has been the singular major motivation in his life.

Was it possible that he invented Asherah and the meadow all as a coping mechanism for his obsession? He was no stranger to the science of psychology thanks to some of his more advanced classes, but had completely failed to look at himself as a potential subject of that science. Had he fallen in love with a fantasy? His heart was racing and his ears ringing as he started wringing his hands. Asherah was so real to him. He could still feel her but she was quiet now. Was it even her that he felt? She has been a part of his life for half a decade, almost daily. He remembered her embrace and her infectious smile. Her kiss. But logic screamed otherwise. The facts were irrefutable. His heart broke, regret reigned, and a feeling of foolishness welled up in him like a flood all at the same time and Steven fought tears with all his might. This could not be happening. Not now.

James smiled, watching his face. "It's okay, Steven. We all have our ways of coping with the challenges of life." Sally grabbed Steven’s hands as the counselor patted his shoulder."But it's possible that those ways of coping can themselves become an even greater challenge. In this case, this is called maladaptive daydreaming disorder and it is extremely hard for people to escape from once it is allowed to take hold." He looked at Steven's downcast face. "It is a very disruptive disorder, Steven."

"But, do I need to? How has it been disruptive? I've completed school early, I'm starting college. How has it harmed me?" The thought of losing his favorite place and most importantly, Asherah, was terrifying to him, even if it was all a daydream. Suddenly he was reaching for ways to go back to blissful ignorance, to go back to the way things were before he was conscious of the fantasy as a fantasy. Asherah was so perfect. The meadow was perfect. He had never been so happy and content apart from Asherah or apart from the meadow. Part of him considered that fact and realized that James had a point. If he was so happy with a fantasy, how could real life ever satisfy him? And if real life couldn't satisfy him, to what sort of life was he doomed? He wiped his eyes, silently cursing his sense of logic.

Dr. Dougherty rooted around in his bag and pulled out a small cotton bag. "The longer it goes on, the more of a disruption it will be to your life. It will affect your ability to form relationships, how you function in society, and could bring about more destructive tendencies as time goes." He looked over his spectacles at Steven. "Please understand, Steven. This is extremely serious and can ruin lives."

Steven was crestfallen and tears flowed freely. He understood, and surrounded by his family he felt enormously foolish. But more so that he should have known in himself that things weren't quite right. The signs were all there. Fantastical, tropical environment and a furry but gorgeous Elf. And this spectacular afternoon, was it all in his head? Yet how could such perfection be anything but a fantasy? The details were exquisite and beyond anything he could have just dreamed up. And yet he couldn't deny it. The field and its dead snag were glaring proof. All that time, right in front of him and still he ignored it. Laying in a tropical field while it was snowing outside should have been clue enough to the fact that things were wrong and he chose to ignore it, so infatuated was he in his own made up world.

"We'll help you sort this out, Steven. You're not alone." James handed him the bag. "This will take the edge off and make it easier for you to manage your imaginary reality while we take things a step at a time and bring you back to the real world."

"What is it?" Steven opened the bag and looked in, seeing a sight that was actually familiar to him. Finely shredded dried mushrooms and herbs. The smell wafted up and most of the contents were like old friends. But he did smell a few items that he had never sampled before.

"An herbal concoction I've put together. With the help of Jonah, of course. Some you'll recognize, and there are a few special mushrooms in there, too." James pulled out a paper from his bag. "Here's the list. Your father should be able to put most of this together for you and I've got a source for the rest."

"What does it do?" Steven was used to herbal remedies from his life with his naturalist godparents. They were stringently anti-pharmaceutical and life with herbs and holistic medicines was all he really knew. Amazingly, it was a very healthy life.

"For people who are not having a problem, this will make them a bit loopy. But for you, it will help the part of your brain that is being overstimulated to calm down." James grinned. "You've already had a cup of it."

"That?" Steven pointed to the cup. "That was pretty good." James looked proud at such high praise coming from Steven, who was one of the most experienced wild mushroom experts in the area.

"Now, drink that with your meals, and I want to see you twice a week and whenever you feel you need to talk." James got up. Sally stood up and followed him out. Jonah winked at Steven, who smiled wistfully back. He was still very confused, embarrassed, and somewhat disappointed, especially since he had been completely unaware of any problem for all of these years.

"C'mon, dinner's on the table." Jonah stood up and Steven followed. His knees were still a little weak but he managed to not fall back down. Jonah put his arm around his shoulder. "We're always here for you, Steven. Don't you ever forget that."

Sally walked James out onto the porch. "Thank you so much. I don't think we could have done this without you."

"Just make sure he gets his tea and give him plenty of support. He's a remarkable kid." James zipped up his jacket. "And don't worry so much. He'll notice your worry and it'll make him worried. Just be there for him."

Sally nodded, smiling. "Okay. Remember, we don't want this in the computer."

James understood, well aware of their fear of computers. "I'll make sure this stays in the filing cabinet."

Linda arrived to work early the next morning. She had a special day prepared for her son and wanted to get her filing done early. Her boss, Dr. Dougherty was out of the office on another housecall when she arrived. She was always impressed by that. So many doctors preferred their patients to come to their office but this one took every opportunity he could to leave the office and meet the client in the environment he or she felt most comfortable in.

A little stack of folders sat on her desk. Linda
t
ook her coat off, brushing the stack as she draped it over the back of her chair. She saw something flutter to the floor out of the corner of her eye as she sat down. A sticky note. One of many she had stuck about her desk and her computer. She left it there and got to work entering the folders into the computer. She was fascinated how the doctor customized the treatments to the preferences of the patient and seemed to be expert at many methods, from traditional to holistic. As she pondered that, she finished entering in the last folder, a teenager with a daydreaming disorder. The ingredients of that treatment were intriguing. They included psychoactive mushrooms, among many other ingredients. She wondered what trip that patient was going to have as she closed that file and put it in the done basket. Sitting back, she looked around, happy her short day was over so soon.

She was about to get up when Linda remembered the note that had fallen to the floor. Looking around, she spotted it and picked it up, turning it over to read it. Her shoulders slumped. The last folder was not supposed to be entered into the computer. Sighing, she logged back in and found the entry. With a click, it was deleted. Shaking her head, she wondered why anyone would rather these files be kept on paper, especially with the possibility that they could burn up in a fire or something. She put her jacket back on and left the office, happy that she was getting the rest of the day off.

The meadow was blanketed in snow. Steven hadn't seen it like that in years. His heart heavy, he waded through the snow and put his hand on the dead snag. It had been a week since that horrible evening, and he had been out there every day. Every day it was the same. The sky was overcast and dreary, and snow covered everything. He closed his eyes and remembered the tropical meadow. He thought of the tropical dandelion he had grown so fond of. He remembered the sweet flowers and succulent leaves. With a big sigh, he thought of Asherah. He could almost hear her laughter as she ran around the tree and danced in the meadow. Quite suddenly he was overwhelmed with grief and he knelt down and cried. Her song filled his heart as he let sorrow consume him. He felt like a major part of his life had been ripped out and suddenly he had no one to confide in.