FanStory.com - DUEL with the DEVIL - Chapter 42by Jim Wile

Recap of Chapter 41: Brian accidentally takes a second full dose of Dipraxa when he returns from dropping Julia off at the airport to begin her two-month tour. It makes him extremely high—higher than he’s ever been before. He should be depressed because his drug has failed by doing exactly what he was trying to avoid, but he loves the high so much that for two months he does almost nothing except figure out how to maximize it. The house and his person fall into complete disarray. He vows to clean the house and himself up tomorrow, before Julia returns the following day.

He had enough foresight to realize he couldn’t continue on this way, so he destroys all the raw materials necessary to make any more Dipraxa. When the current supply runs out tonight, he will be done with it, although he doesn’t know how to proceed from there. While enjoying his last day of binging, Julia returns home two days early.

Chapter 42

Julia

A few days ago

I’ve sensed for some time now that all is not right with Brian. I wish I could see his face because then I would know. I can read him like a book. But he claims his laptop’s camera is no longer working and that he hasn’t had the time to replace it, so I haven’t seen him in over a month of Skyping.

It’s just that his speech affect seems so different lately. Too much kidding around. We’ve always enjoyed a bit of clever repartee and verbal sparring, but recently, that’s about all it’s been. Plus, he seems to avoid talking about his work, which he has always shared with me. Not that I understand everything. He explains things so clearly, and I think he would make a great teacher someday if he ever decides to do that, but the subject matter is so complex that a lot of it just goes over my head. Lately, though, he hasn’t been talking about it at all, and that concerns me.

He’s supposed to be concluding his individual testing on himself and writing up his application to the FDA to begin Phase 1 human trials, but he doesn’t say anything about it. The few times I’ve asked him how the testing is going, he gives me some noncommittal, joking response about not getting along very well with the test subject, who is such a wiseass. He just seems to want to change the subject whenever I ask him about it.

I have one more concert before the tour is over, but I’m concerned enough that I decide I’m going to cancel it and just head home now. I’m going to surprise him and Uber home from the airport rather than call him to pick me up.

Today

My Uber driver is nice enough to help me bring my luggage to the front door. I’ll give him a generous tip. I use my keys to unlock the front door, but find it isn’t necessary because it’s unlocked. We never leave the door unlocked. I open the door and head inside, leaving my luggage sitting out on the front porch. I make my way into the family room, where I see Brian sitting on the sofa. At least I think it’s him.

His appearance is shocking, as is the condition of the place. It smells like something died in here. I’m frozen in place.

“Hi, Jules. You’re home early.”

He remains slouched there as I walk over to greet him. He makes no effort to rise, but remains where he is with a glazed look on his face and a little half-smile. He looks as skinny as a rail, and his clothes are a mess. His hair hasn’t seen a brush in ages, and his body odor is terrible. He has a thick beard now. I barely recognize him. It’s no wonder his “camera is broken.” He didn’t want me seeing him like this. That was over a month ago, so apparently, he’s been like this for a long time.

“What’s going on here?” I ask him.

“Not a lot. I’m really glad you’re home, Jules. I’ve missed you terribly.”

“Brian, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m perfect, Jules. Couldn’t be better, and that’s a fact. You can take that to the bank and smoke it.”

“Brian, are you high?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Why?”

“Why not? You wanna get high too?”

“Brian, I’m serious. Why are you high, and what are you high on?”

“I’m high on Dipraxa, Jules. I’ve invented the most incredible narcotic anyone has ever seen. It’s much better than Oxy. Oxy is a moron compared to Dipraxa. Get it? Oxymoron?”

It didn’t quite fit with what is meant by an oxymoron, but I wasn’t about to get into a verbal joust about something so ridiculous in the face of what I’m confronted with now. Something has gone terribly wrong, and he’s been keeping it from me. This hurts me, but my immediate concern is for him.

I sit down next to him and take his hand. It’s an effort because he really smells bad and is filthy, but I do it anyway. “Babe, can you please tell me what’s going on and what’s happened to you?”

“Oh, not right now, Sweetie. I will in about four hours, but not right now. I was going to quit tonight, but I guess I’ve had my last dose already. Why don’t you flush the rest in that bottle over there down the toilet? I don’t think I can bring myself to do it. That’s the last of it. It was going to run out tonight.”

“Okay, I will. Should I just leave you alone for four hours?”

“Maybe that would be best. Why don’t you unpack your stuff but don’t clean anything up? I was planning to do that. I just didn’t expect you home early.”

“And then you’ll tell me everything that’s been going on?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“Are you going to stay right here?”

“Yep, right here. Probably won’t move from the couch.”

“Okay. See you again in four hours.”

This has been the longest four hours of my life, waiting to talk to him again and find out what the hell has happened. He says Dipraxa caused this? His new painkiller drug that seemed to hold such promise before I left to go on tour? And now he says it’s the greatest narcotic ever made? What could have gone wrong, and what will happen to him when he comes down from that high?

I’m really worried now. There’s no way this can end well. Apparently, his new drug has failed spectacularly and turned into a super-opioid, which is precisely the problem he was trying to solve all along. I feel so badly for him.

Perhaps I should feel anger that he has squandered our money, and he appears to have done nothing to fix this problem that he created after it had been going so well. Maybe my mother has always been right about him—that he’s nothing more than an addict, that he’ll never amount to anything, and that he’ll lead me down the same road to perdition.

But I don’t seriously believe that. I know him too well. Also, I’ve been intimately involved with this project since the beginning, and I know he’s close to a solution. He’s had a setback, and he’s been caught by that demon inside of him that is his addiction. Is that demon just too strong for him?
I don’t know, but Johnny seemed able to outfiddle the devil when it came down to Georgia, so maybe Brian will too when it’s all said and done.

Enough of this devil! I’ve got to help him beat it. Again. And I’ll help him again and then again—however many times it takes—because I love him, and we’re stronger than this devil. He may be winning the battle for Brian’s soul right now, but he hasn’t reckoned with me yet. We will beat him once and for all, because together, as Johnny would say, “we’re the best there’s ever been!”

And you can take that to the bank and smoke it!