This story was written for the 'What did you do? prompt meme' on Live Journal.
I was tagged with prompt – Road Trip.
…
He wasn't there.
Noah zipped his blue ski jacket to the top and pulled his brown scarf higher against the bitterly biting wind that whipped down the street; curling its icy fingers between the traffic.
His fellow pedestrians shuffled and bounced in an effort to fend off the cold as they waited in impatient silence for the little red man to turn green and allow them to continue on their respective journeys.
Noah maneuvered himself into the centre of the crowd, hoping to benefit from collective body heat.
As they waited, Noah looked back to the empty spot near the alleyway between Fern's fashions and the local Starbucks.
He wasn't there.
Noah frowned.
Every Thursday Noah would fly to Chicago for the weekly catch-up meeting with his film's main financial backer, Mr. Albert Monks.
Every Thursday, Noah would leave his rental in the car park on East Grand Ave and walk the couple of miles south, through Millennium Park to West Adam's Street, where Mr. Monks' office was situated.
Every Thursday at this junction a homeless man would be sitting there, in his usual spot, and Noah would hand him $20.
But today the man was nowhere to be seen.
"Has the cold sent him in search of shelter?"
Noah pondered this as he waited and rubbed his upper arms with his hands to create a warming friction. He could almost laugh at how unaccustomed to the colder winter he had become after only seven months of living in Los Angeles.
"You're such a sap, Mayer"
He felt a stab at his heart as his ex-boyfriend's teasing voice drifted into his consciousness; as it so often did. He fought back the memories he had of seeing Luke's smashed up car by the roadside.
He wondered, as he had done so many times before, whether it was Luke's disappearance that caused his inability to move on. Would he still feel this way if he knew Luke was safe and happy in Oakdale; if he knew where Luke was?
He became so lost in his thoughts that it took him a few seconds to realize he was alone on the side of the road. His fellow pedestrians had already crossed and Noah ran before the light changed back again.
He reached Mr. Monks' office in good time, his mind drifting back to the absent homeless man.
He hoped the guy was okay.
…
"Oh, darling!" Lucinda gushed even before she said hello. She stood up from the restaurant chair, her face beaming, and flew her arms around Noah. She kissed him once on each cheek. "I can't think how it's possible but you look more handsome every time I see you!"
Noah blushed and ducked his head to hide it. Lucinda always had that effect on him.
"Thank you so much for meeting me for lunch, Lucinda." Noah said, moving behind her to help with her chair, "I know how busy you are."
"Well," Lucinda replied as he removed his jacket and sat opposite her, "when Lily told me she was unable to make your regular Thursday lunch date, I jumped at the chance to spend some time with my favorite young man."
Noah smiled at that even though he knew it wasn't entirely the truth. Her grandson Luke would always be her favorite and that was as it should be.
The thought of Luke made him sad again and Lucinda, sharp lady that she was, noticed. She reached over the table to place her hands over his, "He'll come back to us one day, my darling."
Noah bit his lower lip and tried to smile but the sudden ache in his chest made it difficult.
"Have you heard anything?" He asked hopefully. Although he knew Luke's family, the Snyder's, would have called him if that was the case.
"Nothing." Lucinda sighed, flopping back into her chair. "I have six private investigators on the case but not a one of them has had any luck in tracking down our lost boy. We know that Luke decided to drive down to L.A. on his own. God only knows what he was thinking! And we know this private road trip resulted in him crashing his car."
"Yes but they never found Luke." Noah reminded her. "Just his car…"
For some unexplained reason, after his vehicle veered off the road and rolled down a sheer cliff, Luke wandered from the crash site without waiting for help or for the authorities to arrive.
"Wandered or was taken?" Not for the first time this thought crossed Noah's mind, and it made his stomach clench nervously.
"We know he was definitely in L.A. because he flew back to Chicago from there a week after they found his car." Lucinda continued as though she heard Noah's thoughts and needed to negate them. "Since then he hasn't touched his bank accounts or contacted anybody. There are no new medical records. Nothing! It would appear that Luke simply doesn't want to be found… and if that's the case, then maybe we should respect it."
"That's assuming he went on his own free will and I can't believe that. I can't believe he'd willingly leave his family without a word."
"Or me." Noah thought but didn't add.
Yes, they had suffered through a terrible year. Noah lost his sight, become distant and difficult, and this had somehow blown them apart. By the time his sight was restored it was too late. Noah's behavior had sent Luke into the arms of a new man. There were a lot of angry and painful words flung between because of it.
But, after the tragic death of Luke's new boyfriend, Reid, Noah left to pursue his directing career promising to wait for Luke in Los Angeles. He would wait until Luke was ready to perhaps try again.
They parted as friends.
They parted, Noah thought, with some semblance of hope for the future.
But Luke never did get on that plane to Los Angeles.
Instead, two months after they said goodbye in the offices of Oakdale's local television station, he left on a road trip, crashed his car, and then simply vanished.
"Luke wasn't himself after you left, Noah. You didn't see him." Her eyes were deep and reflective as she thought back to the month before Luke disappeared. "He was drinking again and so lost… so listless… I tried to help but I think he missed you very much."
"Then why didn't he get on a plane?" Noah asked, a little too harshly. He ducked his head in shame. Sometimes, as much as Noah loved him, he found it difficult to hide the anger he felt toward Luke.
"Look at me, darling." Lucinda requested and Noah, unable to deny her anything, lifted his blue gaze to meet hers, "You have every right to feel angry. There's no reason to be ashamed of that."
Noah nodded, "I just miss him."
Lucinda offered him a soft smile, "Yes, we all do."
"But most of all I'm scared. I'm worried. I feel sick all the time because I'm just going on with my life when a huge part of me feels like I should be doing more to find him."
"You tried." She reminded him. "You tried for two whole months, but Noah, there was nothing more you could do. And as I told you at the time, Luke would hate himself if you wasted this movie opportunity because of him."
"I know." Noah whispered. Luke, after all, had become the only reason he worked so hard. He wanted to succeed for Luke. In honor of him. But it didn't stop him from feeling guilty.
They were interrupted as the waitress came to take their order and Lucinda continued to eye Noah's demeanor skeptically throughout.
"Noah," Lucinda began as soon as the waitress was out of earshot, "I want you to listen to me and I want you to believe what I am saying."
Her voice was firm and even.
He stared up at her for a long time before he responded, "I'll try."
"It's not your fault."
Noah opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off.
"No! I don't want to hear you blaming yourself! It is not your fault. None of us blame you, nor have we ever. Understood?"
He wished it hadn't but a tear trickled down his cheek.
"I just…" the words stuck in the back of his throat.
"Honey…" she smiled warmly at him, shaking her head in sympathy. "Honey… we all love you. We all understand what you went through when you were blind and so does Luke. Wherever he is, I know he's still thinking about you just as much as you think about him."
"You really think so?" Noah dared to hope.
"It's a given."
…
Noah was sad to say his goodbyes to a woman whose wisdom always seemed to help him put things into perspective.
As he left Lucinda and made his way back through the park, Noah's thoughts raced.
"Where are you, Luke?" He asked the naked trees, just as he'd so often asked the wind and the ocean and the stars in the sky.
But as usual he received no reply.
The wind was blowing pretty heavily by the time he reached the junction where the homeless guy usually sat. Again Noah couldn't help but wonder where the old man would go when the weather was this bad. He found it strange that a homeless guy wouldn't hang around for a sure $20 he knew he would receive every Thursday.
Noah's fingers burned with the cold. He cupped and blew into them before deciding to head for the Starbucks. A take-away coffee would keep him warm as he walked the final stretch back to the car.
He closed his eyes when the heavenly and cozy air hit him as he crossed the threshold.
"What can I get you?"
He stood in the queue and faltered when asked for his order. He would normally have a cappuccino to go, but with his thoughts still swimming with Luke, he ordered one of Luke's favorite winter drinks instead, "A chai latte, please."
He felt close to Luke when he smelt the aromas of the sweet drinks Luke always enjoyed.
Receiving his drink he steeled himself to exit back out into the cold and felt the icy bite immediately.
"Brr!" He complained, gripping his latte with both hands and thinking himself lucky to be heading back to a much more temperate Los Angeles.
He was in a hurry to catch his plane, but as he passed the alley he couldn't ignore this nagging feeling about that empty spot. He again wondered where the old homeless man could have gone to.
He wasn't sure why, but he felt compelled to check the alley. Something just didn't feel right. The guy sat there every Thursday, without fail.
His instinct was correct.
Noah came across the man almost immediately. He was curled into a tight and frozen ball, arms clenched around his stomach as though in pain.
Noah's heart thumped hard as he dropped his coffee and approached, afraid the man might be dead.
"Hello, sir?" he called; hoping for a reply.
The smell of body and alcohol was strong.
He dropped to his knees and very carefully shook the heavily bearded man by his shoulder.
The man's jacket was pretty flimsy and definitely no match for the Chicago cold.
"Hello? Are you okay?"
As Noah thought to feel for a pulse the man groaned and coughed.
"Hey." Noah said gently. "It's okay. I'm going to help you?"
The figure squinted up at him; examining him through a hairy dirt-stained face. The ends of his gloves were badly worn; the middle and forefinger of his right hand exposed. He lifted them up to Noah's face and ran them lightly down his cheek.
"It's okay." Noah told him, frowning. "Everything's going to be okay. I'll take care of you."
The man coughed again and this time a drop of blood-stained saliva dribbled out the side of his mouth.
"Oh my God!" Noah exclaimed quickly pulling his cell out and ringing 911. It seemed to ring forever. "Hello? I have a very sick man here! I need help!"