Station 429

the night of goodness

the night of goodness

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When Colleen first walked into the station sometime the next week, she couldn't see Foster anywhere. Today was one of the days they spent together, so this was a surprise for her. It also alarmed her slightly, and she found herself disappointed when she realized he might not be here. She was getting attached to not only him, but everything here as well, and she knew it.

Colleen stuffed her hands in her pockets once she got down the rubble pile, and drew out a breath as a breeze passed through. Swiping a few hairs from her face, her feet crunched against the gravel as she slowly walked towards the train, hoping she would find him there.

Despite her worries about Foster, she took her time searching for him. She stopped at the head of the train, looked up, and noticed how it loomed over her, then looked down at the headlights, wondering if it would really be that bad if they suddenly turned on and blinded her to her surroundings. She grazed her hand across the sleek gray of the train, acting as if she had all the time in the world at her disposal. If only, she thought, then grasped the handle next to the train's door and pulled herself inside.

Foster was sitting in a chair across the room with a small shoe box at his feet, elbows on his knees and holding a note in his hands. He didn't look up, but Colleen saw the solemn look on his face- one that he didn't try to hide. "We all wrote these notes once," he said after a moment, "to the station, telling it our stories." He looked up at her then, and she wanted to look away, as if she had been caught doing something illicit, but didn't. "I wonder if anyone actually read them."

Colleen, slipping her gloves off, walked over to him and sat in the seat next to him. She took the note from his hands and read it over. "Why are you reading Dustin's story?"

Foster sighed, meeting Coleen's gaze with his own with a turn of his head. "His parents called him last night, apparently."

Colleen's eyebrows shot up. "Really?" She looked down at the note again, really reading the first few sentences. It sounded just like him, she decided. It was angry, yet it wasn't, just like Dustin.

Foster was nodding beside her. "Yeah. Mia was actually sent here to talk him into having a discussion with his parents. They wanted him to come home for a few days right away, but they settled for a phone call yesterday."

"Wow. Does he know why?"

"Apparently Mia got through to them. Was able to put just enough common sense in their heads to get them thinking about the whole thing."

"So what did they talk about?" Colleen absentmindedly folded the crumpled piece of paper along its crease and handed it back to Foster.

"Mia said they wanted to just talk about everything that had happened, but since Dustin didn't want to visit just yet, they just focused on trying to convince him to head up to Albany at some point."

"That's really big news," Colleen said.

"It is," Foster agreed. "He hasn't seen or even talked to his parents in at least a year."

"Do you think he'll go?"

"Hard to say." Foster sat back, crossing an ankle over his knee. "You can never really know with Dustin. He's hard to read."

"Well, not really."

Foster raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Colleen shifted in her seat to face him. "All you have to do is ask him about something, and he'll tell you everything under the sun about it."