Ricky took out his train ticket and handed it to the conductor. He could still remember studying at Hamburg and the Goethe Institute here in Germany. He even learned to speak German, though most of the people here didn't know English so it was good that he did.
Ricky boarded the train and grabbed onto one of the railings. As expected, the train was crowded. It wasn't so different from eight years ago.
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Ricky sat down on the couch in his and Keith's hotel room. It was so nice to be away from New York for once. He wasn't in the country Ronald Reagan was in, he didn't have to hear about the way people talked about his-
His health.
Ricky hadn't thought about for a long time. It felt like five hours since he'd last thought about what was happening to him. He still didn't want to think about it. He needed a distraction.
Taking the phone, Ricky dialed in Dad's number and waited. The person on the other end picked up.
"Hello?" It was Dad's voice. What a relief.
"It's me, Dad." Ricky smiled as he said this.
"How are you? How's the tour?"
"It's great. I'm feeling awesome right now."
Ricky continued to talk to Dad until it was nine-thirty, which was when usually when he went to bed. As he lay under the sheets, he couldn't help but think about how good his day had been, except for the part he thought about his diagnosis.
It was a lot better than other days.
YOU ARE READING
Ricky
FanfictionWhat would have Ricky Helton Wilson's life have been like? Starts in 1953 and ends in 1985. Feel free to read. Feel free to comment. And certainly feel free to vote.
