Date: Wed, 29 Aug 2012 17:28:28 -0700 (PDT) From: Damian Subject: Luke and the Red Canvas Shoes - Part 6 This is the continuation of my story about Todd, 25, a physician assistant, and Luke, 20, who first meet in a medical appointment that doesn't quite go as either planned. This posting is an in-depth relationship story that will build slowly. I plan to post subsequent chapters often, so please check back. Or let me know if you'd like to get an e-mail from me whenever I post one. No minors were harmed in the writing of this story, but if you are one please go find something else to do. Please do not reproduce this story in any form without the permission of the author. Your feedback is appreciated. Damian nvtahoeus@yahoo.com LUKE AND THE RED CANVAS SHOES END OF PART 5 I talked to Luke by phone Thursday and Friday evenings, and he came over to my place on Saturday for a bite to eat and to watch a movie with me. We fit together so nicely on the couch, with him leaning against me with my arm around his shoulder. It was a bittersweet moment that I would treasure and remember for a long time. We sat there contentedly, both of us blissfully unaware of how this comfortable new direction in our lives would soon take an unwelcome turn. PART 6 Luke walked home after our dinner and movie on Saturday night -- and another chaste but tight good-night hug. When I biked over to their house on Sunday morning for my usual driveway chat with Lloyd, there was a muddy old pickup truck parked in front of his house that I'd never seen before. An uneasy dread crept over me as I biked past it and into the driveway. A man about my age sat in the driver's seat by himself, peering at me with cold eyes. I still had my helmet and sunglasses on, and something told me it would be a good idea to keep them on for a while. The garage door was up, but Lloyd's folding chair was empty, and there was no sign of either him or Luke at first. Then Luke appeared from the door that connected between the garage and the kitchen. He was carrying a couple of plastic bags and looking quite glum. He looked a little startled to see me. "What's going on, buddy?" "I just tried calling you on your cell phone, Todd. Why didn't you pick up?" I fumbled in my pocket for it but came up empty. "Oh, I guess I left it at home. In fact, I don't even remember plugging it in last night after you left. What's up?" The man in the pickup truck rolled down the window and yelled at Luke. "C'mon, Luke, I ain't got all day." Luke sighed. "That's your brother isn't it?" "Yeah, that's David. He's taking me back home for a while. Mom is real sick and they thought I should go up there. Granddad will tell you more. I gotta go. Listen to my phone message when you get home, okay?" He ran off with his bags, looking back at me forlornly as he closed the passenger door to the truck just as it was speeding away. "Luke!" I watched it until it went out of sight. This couldn't be happening! Still stunned, I knocked on the kitchen door and let myself in at the same time. Lloyd was sitting at the kitchen table looking sick and shaking his head. "He wouldn't even come inside to talk to me, Todd." "David, you mean?" "Yes. I hadn't seen him in years and he wouldn't even come in to say hello. He called from a pay phone early this morning and asked if Luke was here. I guess they figured he must be. They talked for a bit, and Luke told him he'd be ready when he got here. Except for Luke, my family's got no use for me. That woman has turned my son and grandson against me because I don't believe the way they do. It just makes me sick." "I'm so sorry, Lloyd. Did Luke say when he'd be back?" I hoped he didn't hear the same panic in my voice that I felt in my gut. "No. I suppose it won't be until that woman gets well...or dies. The world would better off without her." "Do you have a phone number for them?" "No. If they even have one it would be unlisted. She never wanted me to talk to any of them since the boys were little." I knew Luke didn't have a cell phone, so I realized that there was no way I could reach him unless he found a way to call me. My head was spinning. "Lloyd, I'm going to write down my phone number for you, and I want you to call me if you hear from Luke. You'll do that, won't you?" "Of course, Todd. I know how much you care about him and how much he cares about you. But I have to tell you that I'm not hopeful about getting him back any time soon. Those people are just plumb evil." My heart sank even further at this comment. "My manners have left me -- would you like some coffee, Todd?" "No, I think I'll just go on. Luke said he left a message on my cell phone, and it's back in my apartment. I want to hear what he said. Keep your chin up, Lloyd, and I'll stop by and see you every few days. We'll get him back -- don't worry." There was just no way we wouldn't. Now that we'd grown so close, I couldn't imagine life without my sweet Luke. If nothing else, he needed to keep his next medical appointment and get a fix for that anemia problem of his. I patted Lloyd on the shoulder with more reassurance than I was feeling and sped off for home. I was praying that my cell phone battery would still have enough charge left in it for me to hear Luke's message. I stashed my bike and waited for the elevator. Some people were moving out that day, so it appeared to be tied up. I ran up the stairs rather than wait another second in the lobby and found my phone in the kitchen where I had left it last night. Fumbling impatiently, I finally retrieved the message: "Hi, Todd. This is Luke. I wish I could've reached you live. I have to go back home for a while. David called and said that mom is real sick and wants to see me. He's on his way here to pick me up. I don't know how long I'll be gone or how I'll get back, but I'll call you when I get a chance. My medical stuff is going to have to wait. I'm going to miss you and Granddad -- big time." God, not half as much as I'm going to miss you, Luke, I thought. This whole scenario seemed suspicious to me, and I smelled a rat. I wouldn't let on around Lloyd about how apprehensive I was, but I was going to be on pins and needles until I had my guy back home safely with us where he belonged. "My guy." Yes, that's what he was now, whether he knew it or not. I could've kicked myself that I hadn't ever told him exactly how I felt. I'd left him with the impression that we were just buddies, being afraid to let my true feelings out and run the risk of losing him forever. When I get him back, I'm not going to waste another day, I told myself. It's time he knew the truth. Luke was never far from my mind as I slogged through another work week. On Wednesday morning I had coffee with Lloyd in his driveway, and we shared our concern about his welfare. I never came right out and said that I doubted David's story, but the concern etched into Lloyd's face was evident -- I knew he had his doubts, too. Neither of us had heard a word from Luke so far. By the time Saturday rolled around, I was seriously worried about him. I felt sure he would've called -- if he could -- by then, six days after his sudden departure. The way David had acted made it look like an abduction had taken place, despite his ostensible reason for taking Luke back to the farm with him. I hoped and prayed I was wrong. The following weekend came and went, and by then I was climbing the walls. I knew Lloyd was, too. A week later -- nearly three weeks after Luke had left -- I finally heard from him. I'd just gotten back to the office from lunch that Friday when my cell phone rang. "Todd, I can't talk long, but...oh, God, no!" The line went dead before I could say a word. The sudden panic in Luke's voice chilled my blood to the marrow. I tried to call right back, but I got a recorded message that the line I was trying to reach was "out of service" -- had the cord just been pulled out of the wall? Pacing, I waited anxiously for another call from him, but it never came. I knew the time had come to take some action, but I knew I would need Lloyd's help. I reached him at home and told him what had happened and that I was going to go and try to find Luke. I told him I needed directions, or maybe even for him to go with me. "I can be ready in 15 minutes, Todd. I'm going with you." "I'm at work now, Lloyd, but I can be there about 3 p.m. Better pack an overnight bag -- it could be a long weekend." I quickly told Dr. Webberley what had happened -- he already knew that Luke and I had become friends and that he had been gone for three weeks with no communication -- and asked for some time off. "Do what you have to do, Todd," he had said, completely understanding. "He needs to get that anemia of his under control as soon as possible. Call me when you know anything." I raced home, cursing the early afternoon Denver traffic and threw some stuff together to get by for a few days. Not having a house pet and only a few plants made it easier than it might have been. The plants could be replaced -- Luke couldn't be. I gave them a healthy drink of water and called Lloyd to tell him I'd be at his house in five minutes. But by then he'd had a change of heart. "Todd, I'm going to give you a map to the farm, but I've decided that I'm just not up to the trip. I'm not a young buck like you anymore, and I need to stay here. I'd just be a burden anyway." "That's your call, Lloyd, but you know I'd be more than happy to have you come along." "Let's talk some more about this when you come over for the map." "I'll be right there." Suddenly I felt nervous about the prospect of going up there alone. I wasn't sure what I was going to do or how I was going to do it. When he gave me the map, Lloyd suggested I call the local sheriff and see about getting someone to go with me to the farm, which I thought was a great idea. A few minutes later I was on my way north, not knowing how the day would unfold. All I knew was that I desperately wanted my Luke back and I'd do anything to find him. I finally reached Fort Collins an hour later. I decided I wanted to drive by the farm before getting the sheriff's office involved. With the aid of Lloyd's hand-drawn map I finally found the right road near tiny Bellvue, a few miles northwest of the city. I easily located the farm on the quiet country road, but the house was set back far enough from the road that I couldn't see anyone. I drove by slowly, trying not to attract attention. It was very difficult for me to be that close to Luke -- if indeed he was even in there -- and yet so far away. The driveway was gated with a "No Trespassing" sign on it. I figured there must be at least one guard dog on the premises. I was no fool -- I'd not risk life and limb unnecessarily. I turned around after a while and drove by one more time. Still no sign of anyone. It was time to go to the sheriff's office and ask for help. I drove back to Fort Collins and found the sheriff's office with my iPhone maps. I'd never had any dealings with law enforcement before, so I walked up to the entrance with a great deal of trepidation. I reached for the door and pushed, but it didn't open. I looked on the side of the door and saw to my dismay that the public office hours were 8 to 5 Monday through Friday, and the office had just closed for the weekend. This couldn't be, I thought! There was no way I was going to wait two more days to act. Luke was possibly in great harm, and anything could happen by Monday morning. So I decided I had no alternative than to call 911 from my cell phone, although I realized that what I considered an emergency might be seen as something much less major by anyone in a position of authority. "Larimer County 911 -- what's your emergency?" I heard after only one ring. "I have reason to think that a young man in your county has been abducted by his family and might be in peril," I said. "How old is this person, sir?" "He's 20. He used to live near Bellvue, but his family disowned him about three or four months ago and he relocated to Denver to live with his grandfather. The young man's brother took him back home three weeks ago under the pretense of his mother's possible serious illness. He called me this morning to come and get him and then we got cut off. I can't reach him by phone." "What is this young man's name?" she said. "Luke Matheson." "And who are you and what is your relationship to him?" "Todd Burnison. I'm a close friend. I was sent here on behalf of Luke's grandfather." "Where are you now?" "Outside the Larimer County Sheriff's Office. It's closed right now or I would have made a report in person." "I'm going to put you on hold, sir, and try to connect you to the deputy on call." "All right. Thank you. I'm seriously worried about him." "I understand. Please hold." After several minutes of an agonizing wait, I was connected to a deputy named Tompkins. He listened while I repeated what I had told the 911 operator. There was a long pause before he responded. "Frankly, this sounds to me like a private family matter." "Mr. Matheson is an adult being held against his will -- and he also has a serious medical condition that was being addressed by a doctor in Denver when he was taken from there by his brother three weeks ago. He may need surgery." "Very well. I'll send someone out to the farm to talk to the family, but don't get your hopes up. Unless there's clear evidence that a crime was committed, there's not much we can do. Was your friend physically restrained in leaving Denver, or did he leave of his own volition?" "He wasn't restrained, but I think his brother may have lied to him about his mother's health to get him to go with him. We're close enough friends that he would've stayed in touch with me fairly often if things were going okay. But the fact is that he made only one phone call to me -- this morning -- and he said "Oh, God, no" and hung up after getting out only a few words." "I suggest you leave me your phone number and go back to Denver. I'll let you know if your concerns are warranted after we investigate. What was your name again?" I gave the officer my name and cell phone number and a description of how to find the farm. I told him I'd be staying overnight in the Fort Collins area and to please call me as soon as possible. "As you wish, Mr. Burnison, but like I said -- don't get your hopes up. It may be tomorrow morning before I can send anyone over there. I'll get back to you tonight or tomorrow." I'd never felt more helpless in my life as I did at that point. I'd be risking my own life to go up to the farmhouse myself, and I had little hope that the officer would really do anything to help me get Luke free of that situation. Remembering that the farm was in a heavily wooded area, I decided to pick up a pair of good binoculars and find a place near the farm where I could park my car out of sight and go undetected while I watched for any signs of life. I knew it was risky, but I had to do it for Luke. I was his only hope, and we both knew it. I found a camping goods store that was still open and got the strongest pair of binocs that they had and then grabbed a quick bite to eat -- by then I was famished! I arrived back at the farm by 7:25, and the light was starting to fade. I parked my car at least a quarter mile away in a grove of trees and walked back to the farm. Fortunately, the rural road carried little traffic. Not knowing what kind of security system they might have in place, I stayed well away from the fence. The gate was still closed and apparently locked. About a half hour later I saw a patrol car coming and slowing down in front of the farm. From my vantage point in a grove of trees I could see the officer, but he couldn't see me. There was no call box or anything by the gate, so the patrolman used a loud speaker to gain their attention. Two men eventually emerged from the house -- neither one of which was Luke. Both of them were several inches taller and several pounds heavier and were no doubt Luke's father and brother. The brother looked like the same guy I'd seen driving Luke away from Lloyd's house. They approached the gate but did not open it. There was a conversation among the three men, but the patrolman never entered the gate. After only about five minutes, he got back in his patrol car and drove away. With no physical investigation, I knew that he was relying only on what the two men had told him. I stayed until it got dark and then drove back to Fort Collins and found a motel to crash in for the night. I was a basket case, but I was finally about to fall asleep when my cell phone rang. "Mr. Burnison?" "Yes." "Office Tompkins here. All I can tell you is that the deputy I sent out to the Matheson farm saw no evidence of foul play or reason for us to be involved in any way in locating Mr. Matheson. He spoke to his father and brother, and they confirmed that Mr. Matheson had been there for a visit but that he left a week ago to go back to Denver. I suggest that you continue your search for your friend back there." "I'm certain he would have called me or his grandfather, whom he's been living with, if he left the farm. Can you file a missing person report?" I asked anxiously. "Only a member of the immediate family can do that, I'm afraid, unless there's some tangible evidence of foul play. If you have any further information on that, you can call back. Otherwise, there's just nothing more we can do." You can fucking go in there with a SWAT team and look until you find my boyfriend, I wanted to scream at him. I knew he was in there and that his family was holding him against his will. I just couldn't prove it. Instead I just said, "Thank you for calling back, sir." I realized I was completely on my own now to rescue Luke. No one was going to help me. I cried myself to sleep from the sheer frustration of it all, but I don't think I got more than an hour or two at the most. I left the motel while it was still almost dark the next morning and got something to eat. I wanted to arrive back at the farm late enough that I wouldn't need my headlights on but early enough that I might be able to see some sign of life. I parked in the same spot as last night and took up my vantage point with the binocs. I saw what appeared to be Luke's father and brother walking between the house and the barn a few times, but there was no sign of Luke. What if they had told the deputy the truth? If so, where in God's name was he and why hadn't he called me? I suddenly realized I hadn't given Lloyd an update since arriving, so I gave him a quick call. He was relieved to hear from me but very worried about my safety. "These are evil people, Todd. You can't let them see you, or they might harm you -- or, more likely, take it out on Luke, if they haven't already. What did you tell the deputy as a reason for sending someone out there last night?" "I just told them I was representing his grandfather and that you had concerns about the important medical appointments that he was missing in Denver." "Well, my son and his family know I'm too old and feeble to come up there and force the issue. I guess you handled it as well as you could have, but I still worry about both you and Luke." "I'll be careful, Lloyd. I'm hoping they're going to go to church tomorrow. Do you know which one they go to?" He told me the denomination and that the church was in Laporte, a larger town not far from Bellvue. A plan was formulating in my mind. I might only have one good chance to rescue Luke, and everything had to fall into place just right to make it succeed. I decided not to hang around the farm any more that Saturday, for fear of being discovered by Luke's family or reported by neighbors. I was just hoping that the family would go to church on Sunday morning -- with or without Luke. If they went without him, I'd try to rescue him from the farmhouse while they were gone. I knew that my biggest obstacle to that plan would be the presence of a guard dog that would be only too happy to chew me up and spit me out before I could even get to the door. So I went to Home Depot in Fort Collins and bought a four-foot section of heavy chain. I had heard that dogs won't attack you if you're wielding something like that -- although I certainly hoped I wouldn't have to put that theory to a real test. After that, I had no choice but to hole up in my motel room for another night of tossing and turning. Then on Sunday morning I returned to my stake-out point near the farm. As it turned out, I didn't need the chain I'd bought after all. The family came out to get in their junker of a pickup truck about 8:30 a.m. I was thrilled to see Luke and that he appeared to be unhurt. Luke's father was driving, his mother sat in the middle -- she didn't look very sick to me -- and his brother sat by the passenger window. There wasn't room for Luke in the cab of the truck, so he sat in the bed of the truck on some feed sacks or something -- further evidence of his place in this dysfunctional family. It was actually a good thing, because it now fed right into my plan. Luke got out of the truck long enough to unlock the gate. He walked a little unsteadily. His family drove through the opening and waited for him to close and relock it and crawl back into the truck. Certain that none of them had seen me, I walked back to my car and a few minutes later headed into Laporte, which I had driven through a few times in the past 24 hours. Being a small town, Laporte had only a few churches, and I quickly located the Mathesons' church. Their truck was parked not far from the door. I parked my own car at the periphery of the lot, checked in the mirror to be sure my hair was presentable, and opened the car door, leaving it unlocked. My heart thumping in my chest, I strode to the church door and walked in with some other arriving parishioners and took a seat in a pew right behind the Matheson family. My hopes were two: First, I had to hope that Luke would not visibly freak out when he spotted me, and second, I had to hope the congregation participated in one of those "passing of the peace" moments that are so common these days. That was my Plan A. If Luke spotted me and freaked out, I was prepared to implement Plan B and grab his hand and race us both out to my car before his family or other parishioners had time to react. I knew his family couldn't catch up with us in that old pickup of theirs, but their friends might have been able to, once they realized what was going on. I had to hope that Plan A would be the operable one. I also had to hope that David would not recognize me since he had seen me only once, in a bike helmet and shades. I purposefully sat directly behind him to minimize the chance that he would take a close look at me. Luke sat next to him and would only see me if he turned his head part way around, which he had not done yet. No one there was too dressed up, but I was the only one wearing jeans. At least I had put a nice shirt on. I had hoped to just "blend in," but the pastor threw me a curve when he spotted me at the beginning of the service. "I see we have a visitor this morning," he said politely. The congregation looked around, and that's when Luke spotted me. I was sitting with my right elbow resting on my left hand and my right hand partially covering my chin. I raised my index finger over my mouth briefly to indicate to him that he should remain quiet. I could almost see the hair on his head stand up a bit from the shock of seeing me, but he played it perfectly and turned his head forward again toward the minister. I could only imagine what was going through his mind right then. "Welcome to our church, young man. Would you like to stand and introduce yourself and tell us where you're from?" No, I would most certainly not like to do that, but I had no choice. I could only hope that my nervousness would be not apparent in my voice. I decided it would be best to use a name other than my own, given the circumstances. "Michael Emerson is my name. I'm just passing through on my way down to Colorado Springs. I live up in Casper." "Glad to have you with us, son. As long as you're standing, why don't we all stand up now and give a word of greeting to Mr. Emerson and everyone around you?" So far so good, but here was where my whole Plan A would succeed or fail, and it all depended on how deftly Luke would handle it, literally. I had written a note to him the day before on a small piece of paper and had folded it tightly before getting out of my car. When he reached back to shake hands with me, I took his right hand into mine, pressing my note into his palm. I knew he'd be shaking hands with others around him after me, but he did as I had hoped and quickly popped my unexpected note into a pocket. He smiled warily at me, and I gave him a reassuring wink. Plan A could also fail if David recognized me, but he hardly looked at me as he gave me a perfunctory handshake, much like his parents did. I almost reeled from the unwelcome touch of their flesh on my hand, which was now damp with nervous anticipation. So far so good. Plan A was working, but it all depended on Luke finding a way to read my note without his family being aware of it. My best hope was that he would be able to read it in the bed of the pickup on their way home. The service was interminably long, and I was dying inside as the minister droned on and on about the evils of the world, homosexuality being one of them, and how "God's grace" would save us all if we just followed his commandments -- and turned over a goodly chunk of our income as the offering plate was passed. Somehow I managed to extricate myself from the well-wishers at the end of the service, who wanted to know where my "wife" was and how I'd come to join their fold this morning. I made up a few pat answers as they nibbled on their cookies and sipped their coffee and tea, and I finally excused myself, saying that I needed to get down to Colorado Springs. I was hyperventilating as I guided my car out of the parking lot, hoping that the Mathesons would not see it as they emerged from the church. I didn't think they did. I drove a couple of blocks away and surreptitiously waited for them to head back home. I was hoping they would go straight there and they did. I followed them at a safe distance, and I figured that Luke recognized my car and was now reading my note. I thought I saw a subtle thumbs-up gesture from him, but he was almost too far away for me to be sure. They turned onto their road, seemingly unaware that I was following them. I pulled off the road for a moment and trained my binocs on their gate as Luke hopped out of the truck bed and opened it for them. He glanced in my direction. My heart was racing a mile a minute, and sweat poured out of my pits. It was now or never. After they drove the truck inside the gate, he closed it from the inside, put the padlock back on it, and turned to walk back to the waiting pickup. No, Luke, no -- this wasn't the plan! But then, like a bolt of lightning, he turned 180 degrees and shot back to the gate and climbed over it -- with much more effort than a healthy young man would need to exert, I thought. I gunned my car to the end of the driveway, opening the passenger door as I got close. Luke had stumbled and fallen after jumping down from the gate, but he picked himself up quickly. He threw the gate key back over the fence into some high grass and climbed into my car as I stopped as briefly as possible to let him in. Finally becoming aware of what was happening, his family emerged from the pickup, but they were trapped inside their own property and could only shake their fists angrily as we sped away. By the time they found that key, we'd be long gone in a car they couldn't hope to catch up with. I didn't think they'd even had a chance to read my license plate. We had done it! Still not believing his good fortune at his sudden and unexpected spring from captivity, Luke clung to my right arm tightly and sobbed for a good 10 minutes while I high-tailed it out of the county and back on the Interstate to Denver. I half expected to be pulled over at any second, but it didn't happen. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Todd," he kept saying over and over. I squeezed and rubbed his thigh to try to calm him down. He was making me cry, too, which wasn't exactly helping my quick getaway driving efforts. "I think someone else needs to be let in on the good news," I said after a few miles, handing him my cell phone. He shakily pushed the numbers for Lloyd's phone. "Granddad -- this is Luke. I'm with Todd in his car. I'm coming home!" (To be continued in Part 7 soon) Thanks for reading my story. If you have any comments, I'd be happy to hear them. Your feedback is the only "pay" we Nifty authors get for our efforts. Please put "Luke" in the subject line so I know your message is not spam. Sign your first name and location, if you don't mind, so I can respond appropriately. I answer every message. Please don't reproduce any part of this story, or any of my stories, without permission. To see a clickable list of all my Nifty stories, please click on the "Authors" tab on the Nifty site. Then scroll down and click on "Damian" (but note that "Damian Chandler," just below my name, is a different author). I encourage you to make a donation to Nifty to support the work they do to make these stories available. Damian nvtahoeus@yahoo.com