Micah Johnson Goes West (Get Out, #2)(3)

All he could do was hug him. And he was gratified when Dec held him tight and said, “You’ll be fine, Micah. You’re ready for this. And you’ll be brilliant.”

“Let me hug him, Henry Higgins,” Simon said, pushing his partner aside. As he hugged Micah he said, “That’s a reference to a play. We could rename it My Fair Micah.”

“We studied Pygmalion in lit last year, Simon.”

“See? Who said you didn’t learn anything in school?”

Micah could overhear them talking with his parents at the front door as they were leaving.

“Don’t worry,” Dec said. “I’ll be over there for away games, so I can check up on him then as well.”

And although Micah felt that he should be a little resentful with Dec thinking he needed to be “checked up” on, he was also pleased that there were people out there who cared so much for him.

The time came for him to slip away. The taxi was honking from the driveway, and Micah was rushed through his last good-byes with the Johnson clan. He wanted to yell I’ve changed my mind, please come and see me off, but he clamped it down. Pull the Band-Aid off in one quick yank, rather than prolong the pain.

He rode to the airport in silence. The skies were dark, threatening a summer storm, but no rain had fallen yet. The gods were saving that for takeoff, so his last views of Melbourne were obscured. Micah pulled his iPod out of his pocket, hit play, and closed his eyes.

Go West.




IT WAS like he had arrived in a different country, not another state. Unlike Melbourne’s slate heavens, Perth’s skies were blindingly blue. He couldn’t stare into them for too long; his eyes began to burn. As they flew into the city, Micah was astounded by how flat everything looked. And the heat, even up here, baked the windows relentlessly. Micah retreated as far as he could in the minuscule space allotted to him in his seat and stuck his head directly under the small aircon nozzle. How the hell would he be able to train in this weather? How would a Melbourne boy survive in the desert?

That’s what Perth was—a tiny city stuck on the edge of a desert and dry roasting in the hot winds that blew in from it.

Everybody else chattered excitedly as they disembarked. Micah moved through the tight tunnel in their wake, offering no resistance but being dragged along regardless. The doors to the public area of the terminal whooshed open and ushered them out, closing behind them like a guillotine. Families started being reunited, friends greeted, and tourists rushed off to meet their buses. Micah stood like a stunned mullet but saw a sign with his name on it.

There was his new “family.”

He felt a bit embarrassed they were holding a sign and standing out amongst the rest of the crowd, especially as they already knew what he looked like. And Sam Mitchell couldn’t fail to be seen in the mob as he was surrounded by people wanting his autograph.

The rest of the Mitchells were looking at him expectantly, but there was a “Welcome!” scrawled above his name. They seemed friendly enough, except for the younger brother who seemed to have a scowl permanently etched upon his features. But they weren’t his family. They were going to help him start a new life, yet all he wanted to do was turn on his heel and run towards the booking agents and get another flight home—to where his real family was.

It was too late. Sam stepped forward, and wow, he looked a lot bigger than he did on television when watching the Dockers play. Usually it was the other way around—in real life you looked smaller. To Micah’s surprise, he hugged him.

“Good to have you here, Micah.”

Strangely enough, Micah felt a little more at ease. But he still wondered how long it would last as the rest of the Mitchells stepped forward to welcome him to their city, their football team, and their clan.





Part One


From the Reach Out, 16 January 2016

Out and About With Jasper Brunswick

EXCLUSIVE—Jasper talks to future, and OUT, AFL star Micah Johnson

FIRST UP, let me declare that I know Micah personally. That’s probably why I have the first interview with him of the year. It was conducted via Skype; as we all know, Micah was drafted by the Fremantle Dockers and has had to relocate to the second most isolated city in the world. Let’s find out what he thinks about that.



JASPER: Good afternoon, Micah.

MICAH: Hey, Jasper.

JASPER: You’ve been living in Perth for over a month now, and you’ve pretty much kept out of the limelight. Was that by choice, or by club decree?

MICAH: Maybe a little of both? I’m just trying to keep my head down and adjust to training, a new team, and a new city. It’s been a bit overwhelming.

JASPER: How are you finding Perth in comparison to Melbourne?

MICAH: Well… it’s different. The weather, especially. It’s so fucking hot here. And it never ends. I’m really having a hard time adjusting to it. We’re ramping up training at the moment for the preseason and the NAB Challenge but it’s been like high thirties every day. And everyone here thinks it’s funny to tell me that we haven’t even seen the worst of it, that February is the worst month for summer.

JASPER: Lots of ice packs, huh?

MICAH: Training in Antarctica would be nice.

JASPER: But besides the weather, how else are you settling in? I know it was hard for you, especially as you had to break up with your boyfriend.