The train station wasn't a place for Michael, it was dangerous. Part of running away was being dangerous, but hopefully he wouldn't get stabbed by some moron who just wanted to take his money and perhaps his nice jacket. He held Luke's letter tight in his grip. He wasn't letting go of it anytime soon.
***
"Luke?"
"Who's this, sorry?" Replied a voice through the telephone line. Rachael held her breath for a second and looked at her watch. It was eight o'clock.
"I know it's late," she started. "But my name is Rachael...Rachael Leofolt."
"I'm sorry, you must have the wrong number." Chuckled the voice, "take care though."
"No! Luke, it's about Michael!" Rachael shouted. There was nothing but silence on the line. Rachael felt like she'd lost. She'd had only had Pam finally get the number, she had just dialled after many attempts. But, now Luke was gone. This couldn't be happening.
"What about him?" Urged the voice.
Apparently it wasn't over. Rachael smiled.
"Luke, he's taken off. If I'm correct, he might be on his way to Sydney." She trembled. Luke's breath deepened.
"Do you know where he is now?" He asked, Rachael shook her head but then realised he couldn't see her.
"No, I'm going to try the train station, if I miss him and he makes it your way...Luke, turn him away, please." Rachael said.
"Rachael, if I find him, I'll send him back myself. Find him, it's a twelve hour ride. If I don't hear a call from you in the morning, I'll run to the station. But Rachael," Luke said
"Yes?"
"Find him." The line went dead, the fear in Luke's voice was obvious. He didn't like this one bit. Rachael neither. She just had to find him, but there was four different train stations in Brisbane. Perhaps he went to Petrie, perhaps; Nunda, Sandgate.
She had to find him somewhere, it would take too much. First she would try central. She had to look there first. Busy, dangerous, underground. She was determined. She started for her aunt's beaten up Mercedes Benz. Sliding in the front seat and revving the rickety motor.
***
"Where you from, baby? Need me to read you a bed time story?" Said a drunk woman as she walked past Michael, he was scared and clinging to the railing of the point stop. The woman laughed, puffing on her cigarette. Her toxins filled his lungs, making him cough for a minute or two. Plenty of prostitutes walked past offering sex, asking for ciggies, asking if he wanted to try their medicine, which was obviously cheap wine in a casket. He swallowed hard. He turned around. Something grabbed him by the shoulder, someone. It was a man, he didn't recognise him. He wasn't familiar one bit.
"Here, follow me, I know where it's safe." He insisted, Michael agreed and followed him. Past the bums, the hookers and tramps. He was sure things would be fine. Down to the corner of the street where it was empty and dark. The man insisted Michael take a cigarette from him.
"No thank you." Michael declined. The man smiled and took a drag.
"Where you going?" The man asked.
Michael swallowed hard again.
"Syd -- Sydney." He stammered. The man smiled.
"Faggot capital of Australia!" The man laughed. Michael pretended to laugh, only to appease the man who so kindly rescued him from being drugged by Dirty Diana's as his mother liked to call them.
"You're not a faggot, are you mate?" Asked the man, putting his hand on Michael shoulder. He didn't know what to say, so he shook his head.
"I think you are, mate. Hey, that's okay." He said rubbing Michael's chest. The man smiled, gripping at his jeans. Michael turned his face.
YOU ARE READING
Letters To Luke
Fanfiction"What would you do if you received a letter from someone you didn't know. Would you reply." Young Michael has just moved from Sydney to Brisbane, and is finding it hard to keep up with life, until he sends a letter to an old friend. Luke, shy and sw...
