Twenty-five – Calvin

Lower-class isn't as big and fancy as Upper-class, but it's still very big. It's definitely not the place where a man hunt would be easy, especially if you're looking for a man who told you very little about where he lived or even went to school because he didn't like talking about it. To be fair, when you're in two different classes, it makes sense that you don't really talk about where you live or anything because it's not like you can (legally) visit each other. This won't be easy. I mean, I could tell you a million things I've learnt about Oliver from the countless hours we've spent together, but I wouldn't be able to tell you anything about his life in Lower-class.

I keep walking. The layout of Lower-class is very different to Upper-class. Upper-class has a large stretch of barren fields right after the walls which then eventually meets suburbia. Whereas, in Lower-class, as soon as you step through the gate, you immediately find yourself in suburbia. There's no acreage, but it's so much more welcoming.

Okay, I need a plan. I'll only stay here for two days, to avoid getting caught, but still be able to say I tried and hopefully make myself feel better in some way. By staying two days, I'll need to stay here overnight which means I'll need to find somewhere to sleep. I'll also need to find somewhere to get food and hopefully somewhere where I can clean up, but that's not overly necessary, public restrooms are a thing. I have a lot of scouting to do, so I pick up the pace. I need to move away from the suburbs and find the shops, hotels and restaurants so I can, for once, plan ahead instead of throwing myself in the deep end like I've done so many times already.

I walk until I meet a main road. I have no idea where I am or where anything I might need is. If I was in Upper-class right now, I'd need to go straight ahead in order to find the things I need, but I'm not in Upper-class. I can either go right, or left. I quickly look out to the left and it looks like denser suburbia, which is not what I want. I look right and decide it doesn't look much different, but, there's a promising feeling about it, so I go right.

Sooner or later, the buildings seem to mould into larger, taller buildings and I come across an area which appears to be the centre of the zone. Several shops and food joints line a thin street that ends at a large train station. Small groups of pedestrians make their way from shop to shop or walk rather aimlessly around the district.

I walk down the thin street briefly taking note of the restaurants and convenience stores situated along it. Eventually, the town centre fades into low-grade offices and small businesses. I walk further along the streets until I stumble across a small run-down motel. I can't imagine room prices would be high in a place like this so I test my luck and push through the doors of the reception.

A grumpy-looking lady stares me down as soon as I enter. I look around for some information on the cost of the rooms, hoping to avoid having to ask the lady who's so persistently staring at me. My eyes find a poster on the desk showing the costs per night for different rooms. Jesus Christ, these are some expensive rooms. I'm pretty sure I look dumb as I stand there just staring at the paper with my jaw dropped, but I have no idea how this place is still in business with such high prices for such low quality.

The lady clears her throat, "What?"

"What?" I ask confusedly and she narrows her eyes at me, "Oh right, I'm sorry, the rooms just seem a little expensive… for what I have… but that's fine." I drone on trying to not sound like a judgemental prick.

"What right do you think you have telling me how to run my business, huh?"

"Sorry-"

"And don't think I'll give you any sort of discount, especially not after you come in here and insult my life's work. Shouldn't you be at school anyway kid? What business you got trying to get a cheap room? Maybe if you just go back to school, they can teach you some manners."

She really just won't stop.

I take a breath to hammer into her. I mean for starters I could find several places for this price in Upper-class who would have clean premises, smiling faces and complimentary breakfasts. For her to immediately shun a customer like that, no wonder she can't afford necessities. God, I'm starting to sound like my father.

Just as I'm about to say something, I notice her hand is on the phone. Poised for a call to the police, I'm assuming. "You know what, never mind," I say defeated. I turn around and walk out of the building, not giving the lady another chance to attack me.

I'm not sure if she has the right business ethics, talking to me like I was six-feet below her. I really don't see how that business isn't completely ruined.

I decide I need to do some recon. For my sake as well as Oliver's. On the train ride here, I thought about where I could go or who could help me find him, but I didn't come off with much. The local newspaper might have missing persons, school articles or places I could stay for a night. If I found a pay phone, I could look for a phone book. Maybe find a number or someone who's connected to him. I even thought about finding his school, see if reception knows any better than I do. Or try a hospital... but that's getting dangerous.

I'll find a local paper first. Setting course, I retrace my steps to go back towards town centre, veering right. From the path I've already walked, I noticed a lot of family run corner stores and takeout shops. The perfect place for gossip or any lead of sorts. The question is which one, or how many, do I stop at?

Around fifteen minutes into my walk. I come across a corner store. An ugly red and green striped sign sits at the top screaming run down grocer. Perfect, they might even have a bulletin board. I jog across the road and peak around out the front. Nothing out here, no board, no papers. I squint out at the block. There's an abandoned car 50 metres down the road and several dodgy commercial building (or maybe drug labs), so I don't blame them for not putting anything up out the front.

Coming up to the door, I awkwardly push aside faded, multi-colour clear plastic strips, those disgusting one's people use to keep cold in and flies out. Once I'm through I shake my shoulders out, this isn't within my range of comfort but I'm sure a lot of people would say that, not just Upper-class. Immediately, to my left there is a bulletin board. Why does it have to be directly in the doorway? I hover there awkwardly, skim reading the local notices. Some flyers are selling furniture, puppies from unwanted litters, a boat. The more I look the more information bombards me: job applications, community warnings for traffic changes, escorts, delivery services. Bright red lettering catches my eye. Missing. But it's just someone's pet cat. Only missing pets. No missing people.

I try not let it get my hopes down, maybe I'm not in the right place. Besides, I haven't looked in the newspapers yet. Luckily for me, the newspapers are right out the front, near the checkouts. A part of me want to pick it up, quickly look for anything on the ads page and general news, just to put it back without paying. But the longer I'm here, the more it creeps me out. Especially with the old Asian grandma staring at me from the checkout, no hate though, she just reminds me a bit to much of my Nana. I scrape up a paper, a cold electrolyte drink and check out.

Before I even open the paper, I walk until I'm far away from that general area. I definitely was going to get jumped if I didn't. I come across a bus stop and decide to put my legs up. I glance at the bus schedule to make sure I'm not going to bother anyone, I've got a while by the looks.

I only take note of the sections that matter. It's the Highland Local paper, so there's none of the national or international crap to get in the way. I glance through the news section, break ins, drug busts, news on the school calendar, local weather and drama with the Lower-Class council. No missing persons, no abuse, no hospitalisations, no murders.

I let myself take a deep breath. Not as a form of relief, but to ground myself. Just because the newspaper hasn't said anything, doesn't mean he's safe. I skip over the sports, weather and TV sections, right to the back where those paid advertisements smother the final two pages. I comb through it with my finger passing over each one. I'm not missing anything. Lawn moving business... prostitute... cake decorating... escort. God there is a surplus of keen women in Lower-class.

I finally stumble across some more interesting adverts. Missing.

I try not to hold my breath but it happens any way. From a quick glance I caught an address, and some details. But a part of me doesn't want to look at it. I cover it with my palm, reading one line at a time.

Missing... $100 reward... last seen 24 crew court... blue 2004 Holden Ute.

Right. Next.

I double check I didn't miss anything, skimming every page looking for very specific words: Oliver, Night, 18-year-old, high-school student, missing; and whether I want to admit it or not: dead, body and found.

Article after article, title after title , all I find is just normal run of the mill fucked up worldly activities. Nothing about missing people, no alerts, no parents begging for their child to come home. Nothing about Oliver Night.

Taking to the road again, I go right at a crossing and keep walking down the sidewalk. Walking is getting a little tiring and I could really use some food, but I keep going. I end up in suburbia again except this part of town looks very unkempt. The streets are littered with small debris and empty food packaging, beat up cars are backed up in driveways and spill out into the street parking. The lawns and garden beds of the houses are drowsy or dead. Garbage bins are overflowing and some mailboxes are almost falling over. One of the houses has a junkyard out front with at least five tireless, rusted, windowless shitbox cars and several other piles of junk. It's really not a nice area, but I guess some people don't have a choice when it comes to living in places like these. I just hope Oliver doesn't live in a place like this.

Once again, a main road cuts off my path. I catch a glimpse at the street signs, Anglers Street is brutally cut in half by Rodes Street. Literally, there's a massive drop in road height and several potholes where the intersection is. I change it up and turn left. All I can do is follow the road so I do for quite some time, dragging my feet along the dirty sidewalk.

When I look up, I see a large brick building. It's a school. I get as close as I want to, hoping someone won't pull me up about not being in school myself, and try to find a sign or something with the school's name on it to see if I can figure out whether this is where Oliver goes or not. I manage to read a sign that says 'Lower-class State High', a very original name that I'm not sure how I forgot. I can tell whoever developed this school wasn't a very creative person.

I could go in and ask if he's there. But what would I say? And what if I get caught? If I ask and he is there, will he even want to see me? What if he really isn't missing, but rather, he's just ignoring me. I mean, realistically, we aren't in the position to be as close as we are and I seem to ask so much of him. We've spent so much time together and gotten to know each other so much recently. Looking back on it, I'm probably a bit much. I'd never really had anybody with my parents always being so busy with their business and my 'friends' being so irresponsible, so meeting Oliver, who was actually nice and easy to hang out with, just seemed so real. Maybe it was a forced relationship. He was always tired and taking naps, maybe that was him trying to say he's bored or sick of me.

I rub my face and rest it in my hands, trying to suppress this whirlpool of worry. This is all so stupid. I'm stupid.

Fuck this. I find a bush nearby, look for anyone nearby, then shove my bag under it. I'm not stopping myself, I've lost everything already so there's no point. My everything could be in this building and no matter what he thinks of me, I'll sleep easier if I at least know he's just avoiding me and isn't dead. I try and walk normally up to the door, I push through and stagger into an empty hall. I look for any signage, I need reception or something. I should pull my hood up. Hide from cameras. Or maybe I shouldn't look like a potential school shooter? Godamnit.

I hear typing and follow the sound. There's a window box and a lady with glasses. She catches me somehow. "You're meant to be in class mister," she says so intimidatingly it makes me shrink inside.

"Sorry Miss, I uh was looking for my classmate."

"Does your teacher know you're here? Where's your hall pass?"

I feel my hands shaking, I shove them in my pockets and clear my throat, "My class is supposed to be starting a test and one of the students hasn't shown up. I was wondering if you might know if he went home sick?"

She rolls her chair over to a computer, "That's weird, the teacher would've been updated about any absences. What was their name and year level?" She chews gum aggressively waiting for my response.

I feel like my shoulders are touching my ears in so tense. "Oliver Night... grade 12"

"Oh a year 12? That makes things easier," she slaps his name into the keyboard with long acrylics. "Absent."

"Oh"

"since Monday actually."

What. Has it really been that long? Why hasn't he even been at school? "Oh that's right, he is sick with something," I lie.

She scrunches up her nose, "There's no medical certificate attached? The record says we've been trying to get in touch with his home number for the past few days... that's pretty typical of seniors though. Most of them up and leave without warning. I'll update your teachers file now, what class is it?"

I am burning on the inside and I can't stop it, I go pale and sway on the spot. "Sorry, thank you." I basically run out of the building.

I'm out the gates and down the street in seconds, I grab my bag and don't stop running until I collapse against a tree and fold over. Vomit erupts from my mouth, violating my senses and my empty stomach. He's gone, he's actually really gone. I never wanted to be rejected so bad, I was prepared for it. I wanted her to tell me he was in a different class, I wanted her to tell me he was okay, alive even. I wanted her to unknowingly imply Oliver hated me because the other reasons that could explain why he's gone are so scary. I've considered them all along, bit I never wanted to believe them. My chest heaves with shaking breaths and my eyes burn. Fuck. No... this isn't it please. I wipe my mouth and fall to the sidewalk.

Time passes, I wait. The school bell rings in the distance announcing that the day is over. It's over. I force myself up before the students start walking past. I'm so disorientated I don't even know where I'm going. I'm still mindlessly walking when the light fades from the sky, surrendering to a murky darkness. The streets have very few streetlamps so I try to find a motel or Inn before it becomes too dark but there's only suburbia. I'm on the wrong side of the zone…

Perfect.

The suburbia breaks into smaller chunks. Somehow I think I've done a circle through the streets and have ended back in crackville. It's too dark for me to see anything so I find a quiet looking building and creep up the steps, there's an overhang before a large doorway that provides some private corners, mostly out of sight from the street. I'll wait here until dawn, then I can move before anyone sees or reports me.

I grab the useless newspaper out of my bag and separate the pages. I lay it down as a bed, a protective layer from the cold, hard, dirty slab. Over that, I put my towel down in attempt to recreate any resemblance of a bed. I climb into my rotten hole of a sleeping place, pulling my hood up and wrapping myself in my blanket.

I don't know how long I lie there at first, but sleeping evades me. Every small sound, every car passing by, every siren sets me spiralling into an anxious fit. My mouth tastes like vomit, I'm hungry, my feet hurt, my bag is an uncomfortable pillow. I hate this. I know I came here for Oliver but I'm already out of options. And I'm fucked if I go home too, they've already called the police on me.

For all I know, I'm in love with someone who's dead. That's so fucking unfair.

Nine days. A week and two days. How long will it be before I know where he is. How long will I have to wait if I just went home now. How many days would I kick myself for not trying earlier. How long do I have to wait to say a proper goodbye? I'd hand myself in just to know. I'd knock on every door. I'd stop every half blue half green car to find his dad. I'd walk the Lower-class cemetery everyday. I don't care if I end up ruining my own life to get answers. I need him.

- - -

I jolt awake from a dream as a tingling sensation runs up my spine. I rapidly look around the dark unfamiliar environment as I try to make sense of what's happening. There's a large dark figure looming above me. Fuck. As I'm scrambling to get on my feet, the stranger grabs my shoulders and delivers a blow to my sternum with a low grunt. I feel my body collapse and I desperately try to regain my breath. He leans down. Pulls my hood off my head. Beads of sweat drip down my forehead and neck.

"GET THE FUCK OFF MY PROPERTY." The figure booms. He drops me and goes to kick again but I block him and push him back. My heart pounds in my chest and my breath is short. My surroundings slowly come into focus.

I shuffle as far away as I can, "I'll go! I'll go! Please!" I clutch my chest as I try regaining my breath.

He pulls out his phone. I know what he's doing...

"Police? Yeah there's this homeless kid on my-" I don't waste any time, I grab as much of my shit I can possibly manage, sling my bag on and dart at the man. He prepares for impact, I rebound off him and sprint down the road. He calls after me, "HEY! YEAH THE LITTLE FUCKER JUST SWUNG AT ME!"

There's footsteps after me. I think I lose my towel. Is there more than one person? There's a siren down the street. Fuck they were closer than I thought. I squeeze behind one building, then another. My hearts pounding. I can't hear anything but my heartbeat. I jump a fence.

Eventually I break out into suburban streets. It's not my first time running from the police, it won't be my last. I'll run until I find him. My breath catches up to me. I take off my jumper and try to alter my appearance. Keep moving, Calvin.

They will be looking for me now.