Les was sitting on the steps to the fire escape outside when his mother looked out the window. She smiled to herself, glad that her son was enjoying the fresh air and continued mixing the dough for the loaf of bread she was making.
"Yeah, I feel that way sometimes too." she heard Les say.
Confused, Esther Jacobs glanced out the window once more to see who her son was talking to.
No one was there.
The mother simply shrugged and went back to her work, not paying much more attention to the matter.
Things like this continued to happen during the week. Les would talk to an unknown voice, and whenever anyone asked who he was talking to, he simply said: "Oh, I'm just talkin' to Michael is all!" And they left it at that.
However, after a while, the situation started to get a bit...odd. Several items, including his mother's favorite vase, fell off of their stands and shattered on the hard ground. Les would never take responsibility for the mess. All he would say was "It wasn't me, Ma, it was Mike!"
Who on earth is this "Michael?" Wondered Esther, just after this happened for the third time. No one else in the family seemed to know.
"I think there might be a newsie named Michael," Said David one day. "Except he's much older than Les, fifteen I think."
Les continued to talk to the air, and at night, the family could hear Les mumbling in his sleep about his mysterious friend.
Who on earth was Michael?