A light dusting of snow had just begun to coat the streets and houses that made up the quaint and peaceful village of Middleburg. As the cold frosty evening began to turn into night, most of the shops lining the town’s main street were now dark and shuttered. Since it was Christmas Eve, many of the shopkeepers had closed their stores earlier in the afternoon so they could go home and begin celebrating Christmas with their families.
On Center Street there was only one store with its lights still on. Inside Miller’s House of Music, Philip Miller was preparing to close. He had already turned off the lights in the back of the store, locked the cases that held the small instruments and accessories, and just punched the worn red button on the cash register that caused the drawer to spring open. As he prepared to begin counting the money he was suddenly interrupted by a heavy rapping on his shop door.
At first Philip didn’t even look up as he took out the money and began to count it. But the rapping persisted and got louder.
Shaking his head, he stopped and slowly made his way to the door. As he pulled up the shade he could see Jack Addams standing in front of his shop. The tall man was leaning down looking into Philip Miller’s face as he peered through the glass of the locked door.
“Mr. Miller,” Jack Adams called to Philip through the door, “I know you’re closed, but I was wondering if you could open up. I just got off work. I had to stay at the plant, there was a problem on the line and we all had to work overtime to get a big order out before we could close for Christmas. This is my last chance to get Jason’s Christmas present. Could you please help me?”
Jason Addams was Jack’s thirteen-year-old son and the young boy had just started to take an interest in music. Philip had noticed him coming into his shop almost every day after school for the past three weeks to stare at the guitar display in the front of the store.
“Please Mr. Miller,” Jack was now almost pleading. “I hate to disappoint my boy on Christmas by not giving him the one thing he really wants.”
Addams’ voice seemed to stir Philip out of his daze.
Looking through the door at the man, who had bent down to get closer to his level, Philip frowned, reached out his hand and turned the knob that snapped open the latch.
“OK Jack, come in, but I’m trying to get home, so if you know what your boy wants then pick it out and make it quick,” Philip said in such a gruff tone of voice that even he was surprised at how harsh it had sounded.
“I won’t be long Mr. Miller,” Jack said with a smile on his face. “My boy’s shown me so many pictures of what he wants that I know it by heart. Here it is,” he said as he put his hands on a red and chrome electric guitar.
Philip Miller quickly boxed the instrument, rang the register and hustled his last-minute customer out the door.
“Thanks a million, Mr. Miller,” Jack said as he walked through the door. Standing once more in the snowy night air, he turned back to look at Philip framed in the doorway of his shop, then his smile brightened and he added, “and Merry Christmas to you.”
Philip looked away from the smiling man, abruptly closed the door in his face, turned the lock, and quickly pulled down the shade. After he finished counting the register money and put it in the safe, he turned off the last of the lights and walked away from his dark and silent shop.
Because Philip’s house was only a few streets from his store, he rarely drove. Tonight he was even happier that he lived so close to his shop as he quietly walked home through the deepening show that crunched under his feet. Halfway across Market Street Philip Miller paused and looked up at the church directly in front of him. A warm glow of light streamed from its stained glass windows and he could hear the choir warming up for their annual Christmas Eve cantata. But he forced the joyous sound out of his head and rushed by. In years past Philip Miller would have closed his shop much earlier than he had this night in order to get to the church and its choir. In fact, he would have been standing in front of the choir, leading it as director.
Walking even faster through the snowy town, Philip climbed his way up the hill where he lived, passing rows of houses decorated with brightly colored holiday lights and Christmas trees cheerfully displayed in each and every window.
Only one house on the street was dark and cold. Not one light could be seen decorating the trees and bushes in its front yard. No Christmas tree stood in its window and its front door held no gaily decorated wreath. Quickly making his way past the other houses, Philip Miller pushed through his front gate, and trudged up the walk.
Reaching his porch, he unlocked the front door and prepared to enter his darkened house when suddenly he heard a swift WHOOSH, followed by a loud THUD and finally a cry of “OUCH!”
Philip spun around and stared in the direction he had just come from. Through the veil of snow that was now falling even faster and heavier, he could see a young boy lying in the street. The child appeared to have been riding a snowboard down the steep snowy sidewalk and had fallen. Rushing down the walk and out into the street, Philip got to the boy just as he was beginning to stand up.
“Are you hurt?” Philip asked with concern in his voice.
“No, I’m fine; I think I hit a rock in front of your house. It was hidden by the snow.”
“Are you sure you’re fine?” Philip frowned at the boy. “You look like you hit your head.”
And as he spoke Philip touched his gloved hand to the left side of the boy’s head where a lump was quickly forming.
“Ouch!” the boy jumped back at Philip’s touch. Then he wobbled and began to fall to the ground as he started to lose consciousness.
Philip caught the boy, picked him up in his arms and carried him into his darkened house.
After laying the boy on the couch in his living room, and quickly turning on a few lights he scurried into the kitchen and grabbed the phone hanging on the wall. Worried, Philip was just about to call 911 when he heard a stirring coming from the living room.
Putting the phone back on it’s hook, Philip made his way back into the living room where he saw the boy now sitting up, rubbing the side of his head.
“What’s wrong?” Philip asked with great concern.
“I guess I fell harder then I thought,” he said, “I really did see stars.”
“You’re just lucky you didn’t fracture your skull or break your neck, young man,” Philip added as he continued to frown at the boy whose snow-covered boots were dripping water onto the Oriental rug on the floor of his living room.
“I’m OK… eh, Mr. Miller.”
“How do you know me?” Philip said with a suspicious tone in his voice.
“Well, don’t you own Millers Music Store in town? I thought that’s who you were?”
“Yes, I own the store,” Philip said in a short staccato answer. “But what are you doing out on a night like this? You should be home.”
“I wanted to try out the snowboard. I just got it. My friend gave it to me for Christmas. He’s a great boarder and after watching him for so long I decided to try it for myself.”
Philip looked out his door at the scuffed blue snowboard lying on the porch. Something about it looked familiar, but he dismissed the thought—he was in no mood to entertain delinquent children on a night like this.
“Well, didn’t anyone ever tell you that you just don’t strap it on and take off like a fool?”  Philip said as the furrows in his forehead got even deeper. “You need to practice balancing, and you don’t take your first run down the steepest hill in town.”
“Sorry, I guess I didn’t think about that,” the boy said as he looked sheepishly at Philip. “I know my friend can ride like the wind. He always made it look simple, but I can see that’s not as easy as it looks.”
“I daresay it’s not.” Philip sighed.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Philip asked as he once more noticed the lump on the boy’s head. “I still have a notion to call 911.”
“No Mr. Miller, really I’m fine, I just need a minute or two to rest.”
“Would you like some hot tea or cocoa to warm you up?”
“Oh, hot cocoa would be so nice, thank you.”
“Very well, but then I want you to promise me you’ll go right home. Little boys should not be out alone on nights like this.”
“OK Mr. Miller, I’ll leave after my hot chocolate, I promise.” the boy said.
Philip made his way to the kitchen. After putting the kettle on the stove, he took down two mugs from the cupboard. Then he walked over to the pantry and got a tea bag for himself and some hot cocoa mix for the boy. It had been a while since he’d made hot cocoa for a young boy he thought to himself… not since… but then Philip made a sour face and pushed the notion aside.
From the kitchen he shouted, “What’s your name?”
“Hosanna,” the boy responded.
“What?” Philip shouted again. “It sounded like you said Hosanna?”
“That’s because that’s what I did say. My name’s Hosanna.”
“Um…” Philip thought, “that’s a strange name.”
As if the boy were reading Philip’s mind his voice echoed in from the living room.
“Well, that’s what they named me.”
Philip didn’t answer. Instead, he tore open the pack of hot cocoa mix and emptied it into the mug. Then he placed the tea bag in the second mug, went to the stove, and fetched the kettle just as it was beginning to whistle.
After the drinks had been prepared, Philip took them into the living room. He wrinkled his brow as he saw that the wet puddle from the boy’s boots had grown even larger on the rug.
After handing the mug of hot cocoa to Hosanna, he sat in the easy chair opposite the couch and studied the boy as he drank his cocoa.
He looked to be about 12 years old. His ski cap had been rolled up and sat perched on his head showing a shock of blond hair streaming out of it. As he cupped the mug and drank the hot cocoa, he seemed to be enjoying every sip.
You know, young man… Hosanna… you said?”
The boy nodded.
“Hosanna, you really should be home, after all it’s Christmas Eve.”
“I know,” Hosanna said and looked deep into his now half empty mug. “I… well… I guess I ran away.”
“RAN AWAY?” Philip said with a gasp.
Not only was he dealing with a child who may have injured himself, but a runaway as well!
“Young man, I really think that I should call the police,” Philip said.
“NO, PLEASE Mr. Miller,” Hosanna pleaded. “I promise when I’m done I’ll go. I’ll go back. I only ran away because I was scared.”
Now a part of Philip that had long been dormant, or at least a part he had forced to be dormant, suddenly emerged and his fatherly instincts rose to the surface.
“Scared?” Philip startled. “Hosanna, did someone hurt you? Did someone do something bad to you?”
“No, Mr. Miller, its nothing like that. There’s something I was supposed to do, but I got scared and thought if I left I wouldn’t have to do it.”
The conversation was getting more puzzling by the minute. By now Philip’s tea had gone tepid and he noticed Hosanna had finished his mug of hot cocoa. Standing, he went over to the boy, took his mug from him, and walked back into the kitchen.
Pouring his now cold tea down the kitchen drain and setting Hosanna’s empty mug on the counter, he looked out the window.
In the alley behind his house he could see the snow falling furiously. The familiar shapes of his neighborhood were now slowly disappearing under a deep blanket of white silvery snow.
Suddenly finding himself concerned about someone had reawakened feelings that he thought he had locked away forever.
It had been ten months since Timothy had died. His little boy, his treasure, the only thing he had left from his dear wife who had been gone these past seven years. And it had only taken six months, six very short and sad months from the time the doctor in the clinic had told Philip that his son had an inoperable brain tumor growing with a wicked and terrible vengeance inside of him.
First Loretta, then Timothy; the God who had done this to him wasn’t a God at all. In fact, no real God would have allowed this to happen; to take and then take again, leaving him with nothing but a dark and empty house and sad memories.
Suddenly he returned to his senses. Walking over to the phone he once again lifted it up and prepared to press the buttons that would summon the police, when without warning the sound of a piano drifted through the air.
Philip released the receiver of the phone from his hand and it quickly dropped to the ground and bounced on the floor. Propelled like a wild beast, he tore through the dining room, across the living room and into the music room where he saw Hosanna sitting in front of the keyboard softly playing.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he screamed at the boy. “What are you, some kind of little thief going through my house, making a mess and touching things you have NO BUSINESS touching?”
At the very beginning of Philip’s tirade Hosanna’s eyes opened like saucers. He moved to the opposite side of the piano bench and almost fell off it. Terror spread across his face.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I’m sorry. I didn’t… I just… I’m sorry… Hosanna kept repeating over and over.
Staring down at the cowering little boy, Philip suddenly stopped. He caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror on the opposite wall and didn’t recognize the man glowering back at him.
“What kind of a monster…” he thought, then he dropped to the opposite side of the piano bench slumped down, laid his head in his hands and began to sob.
For a few minutes, the only sounds in the room were the sobs and gasps for breath that came from Philip Miller as he sat in the music room of his house and cried.
In fact, it was the first time he had even entered this room since Timothy’s funeral.
Philip had been in love with music since he was a small child. After he and Loretta met in college, he confided to her that his secret dream in life was to own a small music store and teach music lessons to the children in his old home town of Middleburg.
With her encouragement, they moved back to the town after they graduated and Philip opened his store. At first it was a struggle, but Loretta took a job as a music teacher in the local elementary school and they managed to live off her income. Every time he would get discouraged, she wouldn’t let him quit. Eventually his business became successful. His knowledge of music and instruments won him respect from not only the local musicians in his area, but even the professional musicians from Jackson City who played in the symphony orchestra.
Soon the word spread that Philip Miller was a fair and honest businessman who went out of his way to serve his customers. Even his teaching was prized as the people sent their sons and daughters to him for music lessons. Philip’s kind and gentle ways made him an excellent teacher.
After his son Timothy was born, his life was complete. As Timothy grew, he seemed to be a natural at music. Like his mother, the little boy could sing like an angel and his strong clear voice often could be heard throughout the church where Philip was the choir director.
But it seemed that Philip’s happiness had been just a cruel joke played on him by an equally cruel God. Five years after Timothy was born, Loretta had been killed in a car accident. Devastated as he was by the death of his beloved wife, he took consolation from the fact that she would live on in their son, whose looks and gentle ways reminded Philip so much of her.
Then Timothy had been taken and the only other thing he had ever loved and cared for was gone.
Music had been a central part of his entire life, but when Timothy died it seemed as if that part of him had died along with his son.
The cruelty of it all was that he still owned the music shop. It pained him every day to have to listen to customers, beating on drums, playing keyboards, strumming guitars and blowing on horns. He had stopped taking students and cancelled the lessons of the ones he already had, until one by one they went to other teachers or just stopped taking lessons altogether.
He had closed his beloved music room at home and never ventured inside it. His vast collection of records, tapes and CDs sat gathering dust along with the beautiful baby grand piano he had always meticulously kept tuned. He had even removed the cheery tinkling bell that rang every time a customer entered or left his shop. The sound of any type of music sickened him. And once spring came, he would begin to make plans to sell the store and move far away from the memories that he had created in Middleburg.

Leonardo:
He was tall and very skinny. He wore peculiar glasses that made him look like a bookworm. His clothes were often mismatched and sometimes they were strange and uncommon as if they were from somewhere else in history.
There were other things that made him different, but then what would I know being a jeans and tee shirt boy.
He wore a ring with a big glittery stone. He took it off and let me look through it and see a shattered world.
He said, "That's what the world is really like. It shows you how broken everything is."
I gave him a puzzled look. I didn't know what he meant, but he said it as if he knew things no one else did.
He wore rawhide bracelets strung with different colored beads. He told me that they were magic. Around his neck he wore a very ornate cross but claimed to be an atheist. He said, "I don't believe God or governments but I do believe in magic." I had never met anyone like him before.
I stopped my bike to take a closer look. His blond hair was short and combed. It was the only normal thing about him and because of that, it didn't fit his overall image. It only made him look stranger.
"My name's Leonardo, you may shake my hand."
He extended his hand like he was some kind of royalty. We shook and became friends. I told him my name, Jamie.
I looked up at him and saw that his face had broken out and that he had already started shaving. I remember noticing that he had an Adam's apple that seemed to go up and down when he laughed or swallowed. He looked all grown-up to me but he didn't act like any of the adults I knew. I asked him how old he was. He said he was sixteen.

Leonardo also had many weird gestures that where dramatic, expressive or just plain crazy. There were so many and they changed so often that I couldn't keep track of them all. When I closed my eyes and listened to him talk, he sounded almost like a beautiful girl.
I rolled along on my bike next to him while he walked and talked. He went on and on about things I never had heard of before. I didn't understand but I liked listening to him. It was sort of like a new and unfamiliar music.
Being on a street lined with development houses was like being under a magnifying glass. I think we both had the sense that we were being watched by people behind windows and fenced in yards. Gradually we made our way towards a less populated area. We walked together along a road that connected one small town with another. Vines and reeds had become overgrown on the side of the road and I showed him a secret path that led to a hole in the fence. I dumped my bike in the underbrush and we walked out into the open field together. Once free of civilization I relaxed with him and he with me.
He said, "What's your full name?"
I said, "Jimmy, actually James Wooly."
Leonardo said, "That's not nearly enough of a name for you. I've changed my name lots of times."
I said, "I like it."
He continued. "You need something more aristocratic. You need a name like mine."
He cleared his throat and puffed himself up. "My name is Leonardo Alexander William Florien Victor Baxter."
Before I could say anything he said, "The third!"
It was comical but I accepted it as truth. He seemed to like that I listened to him with interest and that I didn't see the need to challenge him.
"If we get to be really good friends I'll invent a name for you. I think you look sort like a, Maximilian. You might be in the direct line for the throne of some lost kingdom. You never can tell."
I knew it wasn't true but I liked that he imagined that about me.
We waded into a patch of tall grass and then smoothed out a space where we could sit secluded from the rest of the world. Leonardo sat length ways and looked at me as if he was calculating or something.
"I like your hair. You should grow it longer and use plenty of cream rinse. I would grow mine very long but my dad makes me get it cut once a month like clockwork."
I had no idea what cream rinse was and I never really gave my hair a thought. I only got it cut when it became a nuisance. He reached out and ran his fingers through a hanging down lock of my hair.
"Black hair with blue eyes is very exotic. Jamie, you are very cute, did you know that?"
I shrugged my shoulders. Leonardo could clearly see that I was enjoying the attention even if I did look slightly embarrassed. Maybe I should have been afraid of a stranger paying me this kind of unusual attention but I wasn't. Leonardo looked harmless.
He reminded me of a kid in school who always used to get beaten up. I could see where Leonardo's high horse about aristocracy invited pissed off boys to drag him down just for the fun of it. When he moved closer, I wasn't afraid and if there was a reason to be afraid, I didn't care.
"You have any brothers or sisters?"
I told him that I just live with my Mom.
Leonardo said, "My parents split up and my sister is with my Mother and I live with my Dad."
He continued. "My Dad hates me but that's okay because I hate him too. He says I'm hopeless. I don't know why but I still try to please him."
I studied his face and suddenly I could see passed his glasses. He looked fragile and defenseless.
He smiled at me and said, "My dad said that I am totally useless. He says I should have been killed at birth. I think he is probably right."
Leonardo was going on about how miserable he was living with his father.
He said, "I wish I could live somewhere else. I wish I could find a place where people liked me and everyone is happy. Let's change the subject, talking about my Father is making me depressed."
I sat up and offered encouragement. "I haven't known you very long and I like you."
Saying that seemed to put him off balance. He tried to say something but was blocked by a stutter that seemed to go on and on. I had heard about things like that but I didn't understand what caused them.
When he finally got passed it he said, "That's because you're a nice person and not an asshole."
We were stretched out together in the tall grass, unobserved, carefree and pleased with our new friendship. There were several long pauses where there was barely word or maybe a laugh.
Finally Leonardo looked over to me and said, "You ever jerk-off?"
He said it as if it was something that had been troubling him. I looked up at large clouds that had formed in the sky.
Still looking up I said, "Yeah."
He looked relieved.
I said, "I do when I'm in the mood."
Leonardo laughed and said, "I do it all the time. I can't help it."
Without a word of agreement we did what all boys do. We opened our pants and started a stroke. We also did what all boys do. We looked at each other's cocks. My self image was pretty good and since I had just started playing with myself I was proud of my dick. It was almost five inches when I was hard. I liked the idea of showing it off. I pulled it out so Leonardo could see. He looked at it with great interest. Then he pushed his pants and shirt out of the way revealing a large boner and big balls. I think my mouth must have dropped open at the sight of it. He let me see it and then hid it as if he was ashamed. I had no idea that cocks got that big.
"God damn Leo, did you ever measure it?"
He looked sheepish and said, "Yeah, I think it is a bit over 8 inches."
We lay together and worked on ourselves. I looked down at our two sets of feet twisting and turning as we got closer. Leonardo started breathing hard until his whole body tightened up. When he came, he squirted cum all over his chest and as high up as his chin. He even had to wipe it off of his neck. I was totally amazed. I never came much more than a teaspoon full.Leonardo cleaned himself up.
I knew that boys do this with other boys for reference and comparison so I was untroubled by the experience. However, it was my turn to finish up. I had to show off my dose of cum to complete the bond of friendship between us. I started stroking again. Leonardo moved closer and slipped his arm around me so that I could rest my head on him while I did it. Without stopping I turned so that I could see his face. He looked calm and gentle and it felt good being close to someone. I was getting close so I began to do it faster. He pulled closer to me so that the length of his warm body was next to mine. He began to whisper words into my ear. I couldn't understand what he was saying but it sent chills through me and it was making me cum. The experience was so intense that I cried out. I had never done anything like that before. I lay next to him exhausted and out of breath. I felt him cuddling me as if I was something rare and precious.
Sometime went by before I recovered enough to sit up and look around. Leonardo was strangely quiet and subdued. Silently we put ourselves back together. He wouldn't look at me directly and behaved as if he was guilty of something terrible. It took walking through the tall grass and exploring before it wore off and he was back to being his silly self again. It was the heat of the day and thirst that drove us back to civilization. We both walked into the QuikiMart. Before we could get very far into the store, Mr. Daggett, the manager came out from behind the counter.
He pointed a finger directly at Leonardo. "You! Get out of here before I call the police. If you come in here one more time I will kick the shit out of you!"
Leonardo had a horrified look on his face. He backed away and turned and ran out of the store.
Mr. Daggett looked down at me and said, "I not talking about you Jamie, I'm talkin about him comin in here and stealin stuff."
He might as well have been talking about me because I was just as scared as Leonardo looked. I got two cans of coke and pulled out my money. I went to pay and Mr. Daggett leaned forward and began to talk to me in confidence.
"Jamie, what do you want to be hanging around with that trash for? I know you are a good kid but he's not for you. He lies and steals and you don't want to be associated with that do you? That kind of stuff rubs off and he's headed for serious trouble."
He lowered his voice and continued. "Jamie, he's never been seen with any girls. You know what I'm talkin about when I say something like that? So if you don't want something bad to happen to you will tell him to stay the fuck away from you."
I thought he was finished when he added, "Listen to me Jamie, if he touches or tries anything funny, you come and tell me and you can bet your ass I'll do something about it."
When I came out of the store, Leonardo was gone.

Freak:
A few weeks went by before I saw Leonardo again. It's not like I wasn't on the lookout for him, I was but we never crossed paths. The time had come for me to go down to the Freedom and Liberty Mall and shop for a new game. Since it took an hour to get there by bus, I always spent a few hours hanging around. There was a pitiful excuse for an arcade that was good for about a half an hour distraction so after I bought my game I stopped by. I always liked to watch whoever was on Dance Revolution. Sometimes there would be a cute girl or a pair of girls or more often two boys competing to see who was best. No one was there but off in the corner was someone I recognized. Although I don't know how I recognized him because he looked completely different. His hair was yellow with black and brown leopard spots and both his shirt and pants were red. Today he was wearing one earring with a black sharks tooth hanging from it.
When I came up to him I must have looked confused because all I could say was "What happened to your eye brows?"
He laughed.
Leave it to Leonardo to try to look daring or ultra cool and end up looking silly. To make matters worse, he was standing in front of a brightly lit machine and was holding a large green mallet that looked like it came out of a cartoon. A bucked toothed chip monk popped out of a hole behind him and he quickly turned and swung at it. He missed. Then another one popped out of another hole and he tried to hit that one and missed.
He had a slight fit and then clawed at his own face in exasperation. "Oh Fuck!"
On top of all that, he had a four foot long skateboard with him. No one who is serious about skateboards has one that long. Leonardo looked proud. He said it was for cross-country. I already had my game and I told him I had to get home. Before I did, he grabbed me and pulled on me.
He said, "You hate me, don't you?"
I laughed and said, "No Leo, I don't hate you, you just look so weird without eyebrows. I was looking for you and this is the first time I ran into you."
He put his glasses back on and didn't look quite so weird. "I figured once you got to know me you wouldn't like me anymore but I have to tell you, I'm already prepared for that, so don't think you can just hurt me because I'm used to it."
I said, "Leo, relax, I like you and you haven't given me any reason to hate you so calm down, okay?"
He switched his glasses for a pair of wrap-around sunglasses. He slanted his gate and said, "Cool."
I couldn't help but laugh but I had no bad feeling towards him.

Crazy:
It was another week before I saw him again. This time he snuck up behind me and tapped me on my shoulder. When I turned and looked at him I didn't know who he was. I soon realized that it was Leonardo. His hair was black and his eyebrows had almost grown back in. What was lacking he had enhanced with a marker giving each eye brow a neat plaid pattern which was a much better look.
It was a subdued Leonardo, a Leonardo that looked like he had found even more trouble.
"Jamie, I'm really sorry, I get manic. Please don't hate me."
I asked, "What's Manic?" 

He said, "It's when I sort of go crazy. Usually it's when I stop taking my meds."
He smiled at me and said, "I'm fine now."
He reassured me, "Really I am."
Secretly I didn't believe him and I decided that the smart thing would be to lose him in a hurry.
He got up close to me and whispered in my ear. "Let's go back to that place and jerk-off."
The suggestion was a surprise because I hadn't been thinking about anything like that.
I said, "I don't know, I don't think I'm really in the mood."
Leo became sly and mischievous. He whispered again in my ear so that I felt his warm breath.
"I'll get you in the mood. I'm very good at that."
I went along reluctantly. I had other things to do so I guess I was doing it just to please Leonardo. We went through the hole in the fence and out into the field. When we found our spot and settled in.
He cuddled up next to me and said, "Jamie, let me do it for you. Just lay there and let me make you cum. I want to do it and I promise you don't have to do it to me."
It seemed strange that he released me from any obligation but I didn't question it. I watched while he fiddled with my pants and then felt me through my underwear.
He whispered in my ear. "You don't have to do anything. All you have to do is cool-out and let me make you cum."
He pulled my pants further down and then my underwear. We both looked at my boner sticking up, twitching. He pet my balls and my penis. I noticed that his hand seemed to be trembling. He made it easier for me to cuddle closer to him. This was much better than a quick jerk in my own bed.
He whispered in my ear. "Jamie, I dreamed about you and in my dream we were doing this. In the dream we were both happy."
Hearing him made my boner so hard.
He said, "Tell me when I'm doing it right to make you cum."
He was stroking me and I moved my body up and down under his hand. I was breathing through my mouth and I looked into his face.
I said, "Like that. Keep doing it like that."
He knew exactly what I meant and he brought me closer.
He whispered into my ear, "Cum. I want you to."
It started with a tremor that went through my whole body and I started squirting. Leonardo held me so that I could let go of everything.....and I did.
I came out of it in a much better mood. I felt refreshed and energetic. We gathered ourselves and started out.
Out on the road I said, "What about you Leo? You didn't get to cum."
He said, "Feeling you cum was so much better."
I didn't understand but he seemed to be happy.We headed our separate ways.
Isolation:
My mother opened the door. A tall boy wearing glasses, tight pale blue pants and a black shirt, stood in front of her.
"Is Jamie here?"
Without looking away from him she called, "Jamie! Someone's here to see you!"
Leonardo extended his hand but my Mother didn't respond. She looked suspiciously at him. The strange boy was taller than she was. When I showed up at the door there was a standoff. She wouldn't let him in and Leo didn't try.
I said, "Leo, come in."
My Mother grudgingly let him pass.
She was sarcastic and under her voice she said, "He's a little old for you to be associating with, don't you think Jamie?"
I said, "He's alright."
She relented and we headed for my room.
Leo looked around my cluttered room and said, "God, you have so much stuff and it's all out where you can see it."
He turned to me and said, "My Dad is very militaristic. Everything has to be put away and be perfectly neat.
The only place to sit was together on my bed. Leo picked up my photo book and flipped through it. The door to my room slowly opened and I looked up to see my Mother standing there. She was motionless but her eyes went from me to Leonardo and back to me. Her expression was both serious and doubtful.
She crossed her arms and said, "Jamie, I have to go to work and I want you to know that I don't want any trouble or unexpected surprises when I get back."
She looked at Leonardo and said pointedly, "How old are you?"
Leonardo answered almost apologetically, "Sixteen."
She slowly turned to go and said, "Okay, no trouble, understand?"
We heard the front door close and then the car start up. I was used to my Mother's ways and we actually got along but it was plain to see that she regarded Leonardo with caution. It wasn't until we heard the car drive off that Leo seemed to relax.
He looked at me and said, "Adults are the enemy. They always look at me like they want to destroy me. It's like I can hear them saying, You're a failure or you are a fuck-up. My Dad wants to put me in the army so's I will learn to be a man. Even your Mom looked like she was going to call the cops on me and I didn't even do anything."
I tried to reassure him. "No, that's just her way of trying to look out for me, she's okay, really."
Leo made an uncharacteristic frown. "I hate adults!"
I said, "But you're almost an adult yourself. I mean in less than two years you'll be eighteen and I got four more whole years to go. I just want to be old enough to drive."
I thought for a moment and then said, "You can't hate adults when you're almost going to be one."
He said, "I'll have no problem. I'm used to hating myself."
He continued, "I won't grow-up, I don't want to! I hate everything serious, I hate responsibility and I don't want to go to work, get married and have kids and buy a house and all that shit! I just want to be who I am without people trying to force me to be what they want me to be."
His tension gave way to defeated resignation.
He held his face in his hands and mumbled, "I can't, I can't, I can't."
I was fourteen and I didn't seem to have a problem striving for maturity. I was even looking forward to it. Leonardo wiped his eyes. He had been crying. I put my arm around him and tried to comfort him. He seemed to cheer up a bit and was wanting to leave his frustrations behind. He dug into his pocket and pulled out something enclosed in his hand.
"Here, I got this for you."
It was a small pewter dolphin mounted on a crystal. Its body was arched as if it was jumping above the waves. I placed it on a shelf where I kept my collection of little things.
"Look, Leo, I'm putting it right next to Pika the Pokemon. Thanks him, "You didn't need to do that."
He was returning to normal, at least as normal as he was able. "I got it for you because I really believe we are friends. I mean I hope we are friends."
He looked at me wanting a confirmation.
I said, "Yeah, You're weird, but I do like you."
A long moment of silence set the mood in motion. I was waiting for Leo to start it. For all I know he planned it out in advance but I didn't care. He put his hand on my leg and I spread out in willing acceptance. He was looking at me and I reached out and carefully pulled off his stupid glasses. I looked into his face. He looked fragile and vulnerable and in a funny way, he even looked younger than me.
He moved his hand over my crotch and gently squeezed.
If I hadn't wanted him to, all I had to do was to stand up and tell him he was a perv, but I knew Leonardo would be crushed and he would run away and never come back... Why would I do that? I could tell that he had genuine feeling towards me and anyway, I liked him. I would probably jerk off before the end of the day anyway so why not share it with him. I didn't care and it made him feel good so what's the big fuckin deal?
It didn't matter if I liked girls or maybe there was a possibility that I might be gay, here was someone who liked me and devoted himself to me. Besides, I didn't have to return the favor if I didn't want to. I unbuckled my belt and opened my pants for him.
Leo raised himself and looked out the window to make sure that the car was gone. I said, "Don't worry, she won't be back until evening."
He whispered into my ear. "Jamie, I'll do anything for you.
I know about all the bad things people say about stuff like this, but I believe we didn't do anything wrong. Everything we did was sort of friendly, natural and I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to. I can't speak for Leonardo but he was always kind to me and even though he might have tricked me into having sex, he never made me do anything I didn't want to.

I know I'm not gay but I grew to love Leo. He had a sweet and giving nature and wouldn't ever hurt anyone. He only wanted to be loved. Even so, I fear for him. People that don't even know him, suspect in him impulses that he doesn't even know he has. They try and convict him in their own minds and look for an excuse to crush him. For people like this, there is no word for love, there is only molestation, harassment, sodomy and rape.

He said to me, "Have you ever been in love?"
It was a strange question and I had no idea how to answer it. I pushed out my lower lip and shrugged my shoulders.
Leonardo looked off in the distance as if he was trying to see something far away. "I have. If you don't you're lucky because it can fuck you up so bad."
He looked sort of sad but suddenly began joking and laughing again. It was puzzling but I didn't have nearly enough experience to understand. I think it was the first time in my life where I saw someone that exposed and defenseless.
I loved Leonardo from that moment on.

*Knock Knock Knock*
What the hell? Kevin wrinkled his nose. He didn’t want to get up and see who was at the door. No one was home but him, and no one would be knocking on the door for him. He assumed it was probably an adult, and one who would want to speak to the tenant of their apartment. Kevin was only a kid, and obviously not the man in charge of the place.
Gale, his older brother, had been telling him not to answer the door when no one was home for as long as he could remember, especially in this neighbourhood. There were all kinds of crazies here. And Kevin being home without his older brother meant just that – no one was home. Kevin and his older brother by twice his age had been living together on their own for quite some time, and they were lucky enough to be able to afford living where they had been for the past few years, even though it was a rough neighbourhood, and even though the apartment itself was pretty shabby. Not one where you’d be excited inviting someone over for dinner. Kevin had roughened up some too. His language, both verbal and body, weren’t the most gentle, and they weren’t always polite. After all, he was a kid, and an emotional one. He got mad easily, and sad easily, too.
He didn’t think it would do any harm to see through the peephole who might be on the other side. They rarely got visitors knocking on their door and so Kevin felt surprised and a little curious.
*Knock Knock Knock*
Oh my gosh, okay, okay! Sounds like this person really wants in. Maybe they’re one of those crazies. Kevin let out a frustrated sigh. He hit the pause button on the TV remote and lazily pulled himself off of the worn out couch, heading toward the door. When he got there, he put an eye at the glass peephole and saw a fisheye-lens view of a boy his age – a dark haired boy with tanned skin in navy blue shorts and a white t-shirt. It was a boy he knew.
Henry? What’s he doing here? Kevin wrinkled his nose again, not knowing what to think. He felt his face lose some of its colour. He felt a little nervous.
*Knock Knock Knock*
“Okay, okay, jeez! Calm down!” Kevin hissed sharply under his breath as he undid the door chain and unlocked the door, pulling it in toward him.
“Took ya long enough.” Henry said. “You kept me waiting.”
“Well…I was taking my time. I was a little ‘preoccupied’,” Kevin said unenthusiastically, attempting to appear uninterested and bored.
“Too ‘preoccupied’ for your friend?” Henry grinned. Kevin didn’t return it. He simply stood there, staring with dead eyes at Henry.
Henry’s grin slowly faded, his eyes losing a bit of the energy he’d had only seconds ago.
“What do you want Henry?” Kevin asked flatly.
“Oh. Well, I can see how welcome I am. Okay, I get it. If you don’t want me around, I’ll go.”
“Henry, wait,” Kevin called out. He was surprised to hear himself do so. He raised his hands and then dropped them back to his sides as he tried to find the right words to say. “I…I wasn’t expecting you. I mean, it’s not like you come around like you used to, right?” Kevin shrugged, this time looking back at Henry with some animation in his face.
Henry let out a long, defeated sigh. He knew why Kevin was acting as he was, even though his friend wasn’t being explicit. Changing his tone, he said, “C’mon Kev, please. I just want to talk to you. Pushing me away isn’t gonna help anything.”
Kevin took in a deep breath. He was about to respond but then pinched his lips shut. “Fine. You can come inside.”
“You sure?” Henry asked stiffly, his body not moving an inch. Both his verbal and body language were equally stiff. He didn’t feel welcomed and it was obvious.
“Yeah.” Kevin nodded a few times, his face softening up. He was looking tired. “Yeah I’m sure.” Kevin pulled the door even wider and stepped back to let Henry in. Henry slowly entered onto the old and stained parquet flooring with stained and peeling white walls around him.
“How exactly did you get in?” Kevin asked Henry.
“Old man Graham at the security desk recognized me and buzzed me in,” Henry said. “He’s a nice man. Maybe too nice for his job sometimes.” Looking around the small apartment, seeing the messy kitchen and living room, he said, “You said you were preoccupied. I can see now that it wasn’t cleaning the place up any that you were preoccupied with.”
“As I said, I was taking my time,” Kevin said with a drawl.
“TV? Oh, cartoons…” Henry smirked as he walked toward the screen. On it was a cartoon image on pause of a large woman with white hair and an expression that was not too happy. “So that’s what you were ‘preoccupied’ with.”
“Drop it, Henry. And it’s not a TV show I was watching. It was a movie. An animated movie,” Kevin said with a hint of irritation in his voice.
“What of?” Henry asked. Kevin took the DVD box of the movie by his seat on the couch and handed it to his friend. Henry looked at the glossy cover and grinned.
“Ah…this movie was good. I watched it a while ago though, so I don’t remember much.”
“Yup,” Kevin said. “Loved the old animated TV series, too,” he added.
“Yeah, I remember watching those as a kid. You still like it?”
“Yeah. And they’re just as good now that I’m a teenager,” Kevin said with a hint of a challenge in his voice, as though daring Henry to argue the point.
“Well, yeah,” Henry said with a little shrug in his shoulders. “Teenagers. And then, after the next two months…we’ll be in high school.” Henry looked over at Kevin. Kevin shifted his gaze away, feeling uncomfortable.
“So…did you wanna do something?” Kevin said, changing the topic. “We could watch a movie…play a video game…board game…do the dishes…just talk?”
“I was thinking of the fair,” Henry said, looking hopeful. “It’s not that late right now and anyway, they close late so we’ve got plenty of time to have some fun.”
Kevin turned his head and looked back at Henry. “We? Have some fun?” He let out a laugh of disbelief. “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve had some of that.”
Henry frowned. “Yeah, well…now’s our chance, Kev. C’mon, we’ll get back before your brother gets off from work. We won’t get into trouble. Promise.”
“Trouble?” Kevin let out a dry laugh. “You’re joking, right? That’s about the only thing we’ve ever gotten into. Trouble. With you around, that shit’s bound to happen.”
“Yeah, but it was always worth it, right?” Henry grinned, a look of excitement coming back into his eyes. He knew what his friend was thinking.
Kevin let out a sigh. His friend was slowly winning him over. “Yeah, all the time,” he said softly, nodding.
Henry laughed. “You got that right. But hey, this time…let’s just have a good time together, yeah?”
Kevin sighed, then shrugged, feeling some of the emotions he’d had when he’d open the door returning. “Henry…we need to talk.”
Henry frowned. “Yeah, I know.” Taking a deep breath, he continued. “I have some things I need to tell you. I don’t know if you’re ready to hear them, but…okay, let’s just…” Henry let out a frustrated sighed as he scratched the back of his head. “C’mon, you’ve gotta see what’s at the fair. It’ll be awesome. We could talk there. What’dya say?” Henry felt nervous, hoping his friend wouldn’t back out. Kevin stood quietly, weighing his options. “Look, I know you’re still pissed off at me,” Henry finally said.
“I’m just…sad. Kinda mad too but…mostly just sad,” Kevin muttered quietly, suddenly looking very tired. Henry’s face fell and he opened his mouth to say something, but Kevin quickly changed the topic, having now made up his mind. Henry was, after all, the only friend he had ever truly had. They had been friends for as long as he could remember, and although things had gone south, he knew deep down that he didn’t want to lose him. “Look, if I go with you…I’ll have to at least get the dishes washed. Otherwise Gale will give me a hard time when he gets off from work tonight,” he said, walking over to the kitchen.
“Okay, I can help you.” Henry quickly followed him.
Kevin furrowed his brow. He knew Henry didn’t like doing chores, especially dish washing. “You sure you don’t wanna just crash on the couch and watch something?”
“Nah. C’mon. Soap, bubbles, water, and a good friend to fool around with? Who could resist?”
Kevin grinned, knowing that his friend was doing this for their sake. “Jeez, Henry, you sure that’s the best way to put it?”
“What better way to put it? Sounds, uh…pretty…clean to me. Clean and fun,” he said sarcastically as he put on the dishwashing gloves.
Kevin rolled his eyes, “Washing the dishes is fun?”
“With the right person, hell yeah, it could be fun. Loads of it,” Henry said with false excitement.
“You of all people know that’s bullshit,” Kevin said, shaking his head.
Henry ignored it. “Here, have some white stuff,” he said, blowing a thick wad of bubbles he made from the soap in his cupped hand.
“Ugh! Hey, quit it, Henry!” Kevin ducked, shrinking his head back and away as his friend cackled. Some soap had gotten on his face and shirt, and Kevin was not too happy about it. “Fuck, that’s nasty! Now I’m going to have to change,” Kevin whined. Henry continued cackling.
“Oh, lighten up, Kev! Live a little.”
There weren’t many dishes to wash, and with the two of them they cut down the time it would’ve taken Kevin working alone to get the dishes done by half. Kevin washed his face and then walked into his room to change into a pair of faded jeans and an old t-shirt. He slung on a backpack and put two water bottles into it in case they got thirsty, and checked he had a bit of money in his pocket. Stepping out into the living room, he saw Henry over by the portfolio of their grade 8 class graduation photos lying open on the table.
“I won’t be forgetting all of this anytime soon, even if I do have to leave it all behind,” Henry said, turning back from the picture and looking at Kevin. “I have a lot of memories.”
Kevin smiled sadly. “Yeah. Yeah, me too. But I really couldn’t care less for most of the other kids. Or teachers.”
“Same,” Henry said, pausing for a moment. “Hey, you ready to go? I’ve got my ticket they gave us along with our report card.”
“Yeah, I’ve got mine, too. Let’s go.”
 
----oooOOOooo----
 
“Damn! Now that was one hell of a lineup!” Henry exclaimed after they finally got through the gate and into the fair. The entire place as far as one could see was bustling with people – kids with their parents, groups of young and older teens together, and couples both young and old. There were babies in strollers and tired mothers, summer camp groups of kids all wearing matching shirts – some yellow, some green. The fair was run by adults and high school or college students trying to make some money. Although the sun was still up, the lights were blinking by all of the booths, tents, game stations, rides, various street vendors, and food trucks, providing an air of fun and excitement.
The fairground was alive and noisy, and the air was hot and humid. Some people were actively engaged in and having fun with the activities and their friends. Others were exhausted, slick and glossy with sweat, more than ready to go home. Kevin and Henry stopped by a station to pay for some tickets.
“Hey, look over there,” Henry pointed to a group of three kids their age several meters ahead getting themselves some ice cream waffles. “I didn’t know those guys were going to the fair today,” he remarked. They shared some of the classes that both Henry and Kevin were in at school, and although Kevin knew them, he didn’t really talk to them. They were Tom, a tall and lanky boy in a tank top with short, short hair; Donald, a short and heavyset boy who appeared delighted to have two ice cream waffles, one in each hand; and Ron, who had curly hair and never seemed to be dressed for the weather. “Might’ve been nice going in a group together.”
Kevin gave a little shrug. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“We’re not really friends. Might be nice going with a group, depending on the company. But since I don’t talk to them much I’d be the odd one out.”
“Oh?” Henry responded, raising his eyebrows. “I thought they were your friends. Sort of, anyway. I mean, out of all the other kids at school, they’re the only ones I see you sometimes talking to.”
“That’s really only when you’re around. They’re your friends.”
“Well…” Henry sighed, giving a small shrug of his own. “I mean I guess I hang out with them but…”
They continued walking, now entering the aisles between rows of booths and stations. Kevin noted that Henry had stopped mid-sentence, not much wanting or knowing how to continue. They slowed down and stopped in front of a Watergun game station. The walls and roof of the game booth were completely covered with a ridiculous number of plush toys, of every size and colour, and of assorted animals and objects. There was nearly no empty wall space. In front of the booth were five red stools for the players to sit on. A man in a red shirt ran the game, and he was looking around for new players as he shouted a come-on spiel into a microphone.
“But?” Kevin asked, prompting his friend to continue.
“I don’t think they were who I really needed,” Henry finished. Kevin looked at him quietly for a moment. Henry diverted his eyes and over the noise of the crowds and the voice of the man at the game booth on the microphone, he said, “Hey, do you wanna play this; try our hand at winning something?” Upon seeing that they had stopped in front of the booth, the man working the game started blaring into the microphone, encouraging them to come, have some fun, and win something. He seemed almost more forceful than encouraging. The whole place was loud and buzzing with bells, whistles, chatter, and the annoying loud voices of the other people running their games over the mic.
“Um…” Kevin thought, contemplating if he really wanted to play.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun. I’ll beat you.”
“What’s the fun in that?”
“I get to see the look of defeat on your face.” By then, three other people had taken their seats on the stools next to them.
“You sure you’re gonna win now with more competition?” Kevin asked with a smirk, seeing the other people who had joined the game.
“Of course, of course,” Henry said, appearing confident with a smile.
“Okay. Whatever you say,” Kevin grinned as the two of them took their seats.
The man blared on his mic once again and upon the sound of the horn, all five people shot their water guns into a hole with a flap covering it to try to keep it open so that on the wall facing them, their horseman could move to the finish line as fast as they could.
To Kevin’s amazement, out of the five horsemen, Henry’s was in the lead, while his was in fourth place.
“Betcha five bucks I win this race!” Henry hollered to his friend next to him over the noise.
“Hell no!” Kevin yelled back, his mind now concentrating on shooting the water through the hole. “This game ain’t even worth that much.”
“Woot woot, here I come!” Henry shouted excitedly. And when the horns and blinking lights went off as he got to the finish line, he raised his fists into the air. “I told you so! Beat your ass big time,” he said, feeling proud.
“Aw shit,” Kevin frowned.
“And player 1 wins!” the announcer whooped as the other three players reacted appropriately. The man turned around, reached up on the wall for a prize. Henry was given a little pig plush toy.
“Aw, you got a pig,” Kevin laughed.
“Oink oink!” Henry squealed, squeezing the nose of his new pink friend.
“Haha, c’mon, let’s walk around and see what else there is to do,” Kevin said. The two of them got off the stools and continued down in the direction they previously were headed in.
As they weaved through the crowds, staying close to each other, they saw a variety of other game booths – games of both chance and skill. There was a long lineup of people wanting to play ‘Ring the Bell’ or ‘High Striker’, where players had to hit a lever system with a mallet to send a puck up and ring the bell.
“Gather ‘round everybody! Test your strength! Let’s see who are the men, who are the boys!”
“Pssh, that’s how they get the guys to play,” Kevin rolled his eyes.
“Especially the high schoolers,” Henry added. “Every guy wants to be an alpha male. Best o’ da boys and best wid da girls,” he laughed.
“Yeah…isn’t that something,” Kevin murmured absent-mindedly.
“Think they’ve rigged any of these games?” Henry asked.
“Maybe. Probably. No idea. Wouldn’t be surprised if some of them were,” Kevin replied.
They passed by an animal pen having sheep, goats, llamas, and ostriches; some food places either selling something greasy and juicy like burgers and hotdogs, or sweet like ice cream and blue and pink cotton candy. They saw a few children’s rides, such as dragon themed carts, spinning rides in various carriages – some of which were styled after fruits such as apples and strawberries – and other games involving groups of people shooting basketballs, or machines for a solo player wanting to try his hand at using the crane and claw to pick up a toy, stuffed animal, or other prize.
And then there was the fun house. In previous years there was the same older fun house at every annual fair, but this year it had been decided to get rid of the old in favour of a newly structured one with new tricks and surprises. Kevin and Henry found themselves looking up at a giant clown face with an enormous open smile. It stood three floors up as showcased by three levels of flamboyantly stylized balconies, and was covered in every bright colour imaginable. There seemed to be no empty spaces, spaces without decorations of some kind covering them. Where there were no decorations, there was something painted, something carnival-themed and almost vibrating with bright, fun-fair spirited colours. A long line-up of people stood at the entrance, waiting excitedly for their chance at getting to see what was in store for them on the inside.
“Oh man, we’ve gotta go in there!” Henry exclaimed excitedly. “I heard it was a total upgrade from the old one and is at least twice the size.”
“But damn, that’s a long line,” Kevin groaned. “It’d be so awesome to go in there, though.”
At that moment a group of people were let into the gate as another group exited the fun house. Seeing the line had shortened a bit, Henry saw their chance to start lining up now rather than later.
“C’mon, let’s get in line now before it gets even longer. If there’s one thing I want to leave here with, it’s that I got to go in there,” Henry said, his energy up high as his feet bounced. Kevin had to smile and appreciate his friend’s enthusiasm, and so he quickly led the two of them to the end of the line. Within five minutes, the line doubled behind them. The heat was starting to feel oppressive as the crowded bodies started getting tighter and tighter.
“Shit, that’s a lot of people!” Kevin observed as he turned his head to look behind him.
“Hey, stay close, Kev,” Henry said, pulling his friend closer by the arm. “Wouldn’t want to lose you in a crowd like this.”
Kevin gave a small smile. “Thanks, Henry,” he said.
It was a long time before the line moved again, and a longer time after that. They both started feeling the burning heat from the sun overhead, especially on their necks. The sky started turning a bright orange. “Damn. Should’ve put on some sunblock,” Kevin remarked.
“Yuck, I hate that shit,” Henry said in disgust.
“Yeah, me too. But the stuff works,” said Kevin.
“Makes me look really white when I put it on, ‘specially on my face. It’s like I got powdered or something,” Henry chuckled.
Kevin grinned. “Remember that time we had to do that stupid drama performance and we had to get our faces powdered in grade 7?”
“Oh yeah! Shit I looked god awful!” Henry laughed.
“And you had to put freaky black lip stick on?” Kevin snickered.
“Yeah, but at least I didn’t look half as bad as Ben with red lips and blush. He looked like a sweating pig. And he was sweating and having trouble breathing!”
“Aw man, don’t go making fun of him,” Kevin said.
“But man, it’s true! Hey, you were the lucky one out of the rest of us. You actually looked good with that fancy suit on.”
“Nah! I think I looked awkward, like a fucking genie or something. More awkward than I already was.”
“Pssh! You looked good. You did. Take it from a guy who knows.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I am right.”
Kevin groaned, but then started grinning as his friend cracked up. “Well, speaking of pig, wanna put yours in my backpack? It’ll keep you from losing it.”
“Yeah, sure,” Henry said. After he did that, they took out the water bottles and had a few gulps to rehydrate themselves. “Thanks.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
The line slowly crawled forward once again. They were almost at the entrance, and they would be among the next group to be let in.
“Oh jeez,” Kevin said, fanning himself with the front of his shirt, “I’m going to be sweating buckets if they don’t let us in soon.”
“We’re almost there. Besides, there’s no betting that it’ll be any cooler on the inside.”
“Yeah, but it’ll give us some shade at least. And hopefully we wouldn’t be squished as we practically are right now in this line,” Kevin said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
“It’s getting really hot right now.”
“We should’ve put on some sunblock, dammit.”
“Yeah, well a little sunburn isn’t that bad.”
“Hah, look who’s talking,” Kevin smirked as he recalled a memory. “You got a pretty bad sunburn on your neck that one time and you were bitching about it for a week, remember?”
“Can’t forget it. I got you into trouble that day in class. Our doofus teacher put you into detention. Least I could do was wait outside below the window ‘til you got out. I even offered to switch places or wait inside for you but he wouldn’t let that happen. Still don’t know why that bastard kept you in so long, ‘cause I got a damn awful sunburn just waiting outside feeling like shit,” Henry said, briefly recounting the story.
“Yeah, I was so mad at you,” Kevin muttered almost to himself, being reminded of that day.
“I know, I fucked up bad,” Henry said.
“Yeah, but you fucked up even more the next day during lunch break outside. I still can’t believe you did that!” Kevin couldn’t help but laugh at the thought.
“So what? Something’s bound to happen when you’re taking your sweet time walking by the soccer field. Just sayin’,” Henry grinned.
“You aimed it at Mr. Ham, everyone saw,” Kevin laughed.
“Well, he deserved it! At least then you weren’t mad at me anymore,” Henry smiled sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders.
“Yeah…” Kevin sighed. He suddenly grew quiet, appearing deep in thought as a hint of a frown settled in.
“So…” Henry said slowly, sensing his friend had something on his mind.
“So…” Kevin repeated, feeling particularly uneasy.
“Something on your mind?”
“Mmm…” Kevin looked at him, his expression solemn. “Henry…why did you bring me here? Why did you come for me, by my place?”
Henry gave Kevin a confused look. “What do you mean?”
“You know…” Kevin shrugged. “I thought you’d be spending the day with ‘your friends’.” The way he said ‘your friends’ made it very clear how he felt about them. “I was kinda surprised seeing them here with you not knowing or hanging out with them or anything.”
Henry looked sad, and hurt even, when he heard that. “Hey, you’re my friend too, Kev. I just wanted to hang out with you. I can’t do that anymore?”
Kevin shook his head. “It’s not like that. You’ve just stopped hanging around or noticing me for the past few months and now suddenly you decide to come back.”
Henry was not sure how to say what needed to be said, “Kevin…I tried. But you were just…not being yourself,” he sighed. “I didn’t get it. You weren’t really there anymore. You didn’t really want to hang out, either. You seemed upset, and whenever I came by you didn’t want to say anything.”
“I was…I was pissed. You suddenly got yourself a bunch of new friends and I felt like you left me for them,” Kevin said, shaking his head. “It also felt like they just came in and stole you away or something. It wasn’t fair.”
“Shit, Kev,” Henry said with realization, wiping the sweat on his brow with the back of his hand as he looked at Kevin. “I had no idea. I tried for the both of us to join in. I guess I should’ve realized then that you didn’t quite like them too much.”
“You’re right. I didn’t; still don’t.”
“Well…I guess they don’t really matter anymore ‘cause–”
Henry was cut off as the line started moving again. They slowly made their way through the gate before having it closed behind them by one of the men in charge. The few people in front of them quickly made their way up the ramp into the entrance, and they followed suit, picking up their walking speed.
“Kev…I never left you for them. I never meant for things to turn out that way either…I just…well, I fucked up. I’m trying to undo some of that. C’mon, let’s have some fun. I have a feeling this is going to be awesome.”
Kevin pouted, his eyes looking somewhere else. He wanted some kind of an apology, and he felt he was right for showing that he was still a little upset.
“Kevin…Kev, I’m sorry,” Henry responded sadly. “If I had figured it out earlier, none of that would have happened.”
Kevin shrugged, not yet wanting to admit to himself that he felt a bit of satisfaction from hearing that. But he knew it wasn’t fair for him to continue acting the way he was with his friend who he knew was trying to mend things between them. “I guess…I shouldn’t have let it get to me so much that I acted the way I did. I’m sorry, too. There are some things you can’t exactly figure out on your own. I should have just told you instead of acting distant.”
Henry let out a sigh, “No, it’s alright. No more apologies. But now it makes sense. I didn’t know I was making you feel that way, and I wish I could take that back. There’s something else I need to tell you, too, but right now,” he said as they entered the funhouse, “let’s have some fun inside this house.”
The interior was bigger than they had expected, and every section seemed to have a particular colour scheme. The two boys soon found themselves grinning ear to ear as they, along with the rest of the group, listened to a voice over some speakers as they traversed the first room containing various obstacles, including floor tricks with areas tipping up and down, some of which tipped and rocked when you stepped on them. A few air jets were blown, startling and sending a few people screaming, and others laughing, like Henry. One blew and lifted a woman’s skirt up as she screamed, and she tried to push it back down as she hopped away, her face a deep blush of embarrassment. Kevin grinned, and then had a jet of air blow up, disheveling his hair as he stumbled out of the way. Henry laughed at him as he tried with frustration to comb and smooth his hair back into place with his hands. There were a few illusions on the floor, confusing some people into thinking they might step onto a trapdoor.
A walkway led to the next room and Kevin was not the only one who had trouble standing up as the spinning tunnel wall created confusion in his sense of balance. The dark tunnel was lit with various shades of blue. There was laughter and chatter echoing off the walls from the crowd. Henry tripped but caught himself, looking totally goofy in the process as he reflexively let out a shriek, and that sent Kevin trying to catch his breath from laughing so hard.
“Oh, that was too much, I think I’m dying!” Kevin managed through breaths, a hand clutched on his stomach.
“Damn, I can’t even stand up straight here. Shit!” Henry gasped.
Keeping with the tone set up from it, the next few rooms were optical illusions. There was one where individuals appeared tall at one end of the room and shorter at the other end. A large hallway followed after, having checkerboard flooring with clown portraits and disorienting windows placed on the ground, upside down on the walls, or of peculiar sizes, as well as stairs snaking along the walls or going into ceilings. There were doors in out-of-reach places, placed in odd angles, and the walls were painted so as to give off the illusion of depth and create a perception of more rooms. They seemed to be walking up the hallway at an incline, and the hallway seemed to get narrower with every step. Kevin’s jaw dropped in amazement. Henry enthusiastically slung his arm across Kevin’s shoulders and the two chatted away excitedly as they slowly walked onward.
The next were two rooms opposites of each other. The kids made their way to the ball pit, while the rest of the group walked over to the tilted room. There wasn’t a lack of laughs there.
“Oh my gosh, this is sooo weird!” Kevin laughed.

Lovesickness in Italian

It was raining. After the priest had finished his words, it had become quiet. Many of Mum's friends had come to pay their last respects to her. Dad and I stood silently, staring at the coffin as it was slowly lowered into the grave.
Tears ran down my cheeks unchecked. Once again, memories of the good times before Mom was diagnosed with cancer came flooding back. I tried to focus on the beautiful things I had experienced with Mom.
And yet?the cruel word kept coming up?OVER.?there was nothing left. Mom had lost the fight against cancer. How do you say it so beautifully:> hope dies last.<
Mom had believed until the end that she would make it, even when the doctors had already given up on her. Her body was riddled with metastases. I visited her in the hospital as often as I could.
Even at the end, when she had been taken home at her own request, I often sat with her in the conservatory, where she enjoyed the spring sunshine, even though she hardly had the strength to say anything.
I would sit by her bedside for hours and read to her, love stories or crime novels, even after she had long since fallen asleep from exhaustion. That was until that particular afternoon, when she summoned an incredible amount of strength and pulled at my arm.
I will never forget how she, with tears in her eyes, said goodbye to me. A last “I love you” came from her lips and her eyes closed forever. Dad stood behind me the whole time.
I felt his hand on my shoulder. When Mom exhaled for the last time, the pressure of his hand increased, only to give way completely afterwards.
*-*-*
The car rolled to a stop in front of the house. Dad turned the key and the engine fell silent.
“We're here, Ragazzo!” he said and opened his car door.
I followed him and got out. After my mom's death, we moved to my father's home country. He and Mom had been planning to move to Italy for a long time and had bought a house there.
All of my dad's family live here, and it was all the more difficult for me now that Mum was buried so far away from us. When I visited my German grandparents during the holidays, I could visit the grave, said Dad.
We had a bit of an argument about it and hadn't said a word to each other in the last few hours during the drive here. The same was true when we got out of the car. I followed him, but didn't say a word.
A woman came running out of the open door.
“Marco? Sebastiano, you're here at last!” I heard her call.
Aunt Maria, Dad's sister. She seemed to fit the image of a typical Italian mom. She was short and fat. Without warning, she took me in her arms and hugged me.
It's a good thing I was a bit taller than her, otherwise I would probably have had trouble breathing with her build. She let go of me and looked at me.
“Are you all right, my boy?“ she asked and ruffled my hair.
I nodded. Aunt Maria turned to Dad.
“Hello brother!” she said and gave him a hug.
“Hello Maria,” came from Dad.
I stole a glance at Dad and saw tears running down his cheeks. Dad was not the type to show sad feelings; his sunny disposition was not normally capable of that.
But Mum's death had thrown him off balance. He was not only my father and legal guardian and father, but also my friend, because I could talk to him about anything.
Except for one tiny thing that I hadn't even talked to Mom about. I had realized that Mom would have suspected something, but she had never said anything. And now it would always remain unspoken.
I walked around to the back of the car and opened the trunk. I didn't feel like talking, I didn't want to think, so I tried to do something. Work that I usually avoided but had to be done.
So I started to clear the rest of the belongings that the van hadn't taken out of the trunk. A hand appeared next to me and I turned around.
“Hi,“ I heard Nicola say.
He was part of the family that lived in my aunt's house. I was surprised to see him here, as we rarely saw him during our visits. We used to play together a lot, but as you get older you develop other interests.
“Hi,” I replied and lifted out the next heavy bag.
“So it's official now, you're moving here?“ he asked.
“Yes,” I replied curtly, still not willing to make small talk.
“I'm sorry about your mother. Mom said you were good friends. She was really sad when the news reached us from Germany.”
“I didn't know that our mothers were friends,” I said, while I crawled deeper into the trunk of the car.
“Sebastiano, leave it to us. If you want, Nicola, take a walk around the neighborhood.”
That came from Aunt Maria, who was now standing next to the car with Dad.
“I'm just taking my stuff to my room,” I replied, still debating whether it was a good idea to hang around with Nicola.
My eyes fell on his scooter, which brought me to the next problem. I didn't have a vehicle like that. But as if Dad could read my mind, he suddenly pulled me by the arm.
“Sebastiano? I have something else for you.”
I looked at him in astonishment. He pointed to the garage and I followed him. After he had mechanically opened the door, I saw what he meant.
“I thought you could use it. It's not brand new anymore, but it's still in good working order.”
I couldn't believe it. There was a scooter in front of me.
“It's for me?“ I asked, confused.
“Yes, and it's got a full tank of gas, so you can take off right away,” Maria said.
“And it's been cleaned too,” added Nicola, who was now standing next to me.
I went to the scooter and slowly ran my hand over the seat to the handlebars. My own scooter? Wow! I was speechless. I turned around to dad who smiled at me.
I went up to him and hugged him.
“Thanks, dad!” I said and felt him hug me back. ”And sorry for grumbling at you earlier.”
“Already forgotten! Have fun then!”
“First my things, that much time must be.”
So I went back to the car and picked up my two bags. Nicola, still standing next to my father, shrugged his shoulders and suddenly started to move. He took one of my bags from me and followed me into the house.
I was met by the fresh smell of fruit. I stopped for a moment and looked around. Mama had been quite fastidious when it came to the interior. She had planned everything exactly.
And now I felt her presence in every corner of the apartment, as if she were really here.
“Is something wrong?” Nicola asked behind me.
I shook my head and headed for the stairs that would take me to my room. A few more steps and one floor up, and my kingdom was mine. When I got to my room, I immediately noticed that everything had already been unpacked and put away.
Except for the box that said “private,” everything was put away on the shelves and in the closet.
“I hope I connected the PC correctly,“ said Nicola, who was still standing behind me, waiting to enter my room.
“How come you helped?” I asked, putting down my bag.
Maria asked me to help her with the computer because she didn't know how to use it. And since I was there already, I also helped her with the rest. But I didn't touch the box, did I?
He pointed to the box I had just mentioned, on which I had written >private<. It was still taped up as I had put it in the van in Germany. It contained things that were really nobody's business.
Nicola put the bag down too.
“Do you still fancy going for a walk with me, or do you want to unpack the rest first?” Nicola broke my train of thought.
I had a few hours' drive behind me, and a breath of fresh air would do me good. And gradually I found Nicola interesting. Not only did he look damn good, but I had always thought that he was the absolute macho type, and that wasn't exactly my thing. Besides, he was a womanizer anyway.
At least that's how he presented himself. A typical Italian teenager. But since I arrived here, I couldn't see any of the things he usually did.
“No, let's take a ride, I have a license, so it must pay off?”
So I followed him downstairs again.
“I'll be out and about with Nicola,” I called and was out.
I walked slowly to my scooter. My first of my own. On the seat was a new helmet, just as blue as the Vespa. I took it off and sat down on the scooter. It was an uplifting feeling.
Mom would have been very happy and would have taken a few laps with me. But she was with me now and that's all that mattered. I pulled the helmet over my head and turned the key.
With a little rattling, the Vespa started. I pressed the throttle a little and it hopped away from me and died down again. Nicola laughed and put on his helmet as well. I repeated the procedure and this time I was able to slowly roll out of the garage without any problems.
“Where do you want to go anyway?” I asked Nicola.
He realized that I had said something, but he hadn't understood it. So he rolled up close to me and pushed up the visor.
“What did you say?”
“I asked where you want to go?”
“Oh, I see. Just drive around a bit? Maybe get an ice cream?”
“Good idea! Let's go then!”
Together we rattled down the driveway, directly onto the street. I quickly got used to the thing under my butt. I felt the light wind on my bare arms.
It was glorious. Nicola sped ahead without even looking back. I, on the other hand, followed him at a leisurely pace and enjoyed the ride. After a while, though, I got bored. I turned the throttle grip hard and my Vespa chugged off.
It was a bit noisy, but it pulled away happily. The distance to Nicola narrowed and, thanks to the sound of my engine, he even turned around this time.
“Well? Like it?” he called to me.
I nodded. A little ahead of us, I could read the sign ‘Mare’, which Nicola followed. The sea. I spent a lot of time at the sea with my mom; she often went for long walks with me there. I followed Nicola silently.
Suddenly he slowed down, braked. I did the same. A parking lot appeared in front of us, where I could see some scooters. Nicola steered his scooter right there.
He stopped and got off. I rolled right next to him and turned the key. My engine died. I took off my helmet.
“Have you been here before?” Nicola asked.
It looks familiar, I don't know?”
“Come on, lock up, there's an ice cream stand over there,” said Nicola and started walking.
The sand already started here. Nicola was wearing his beach flip-flops, while I was still wearing my sneakers. I quickly realized that it was very uncomfortable to walk in them. I stopped and took off my shoes and socks without further ado.
I felt the sand under my feet again for the first time, how grains of sand made their way through my toes. And there they were again, the memories. I sighed. Everything reminded me of Mom, I couldn't even do anything about it.
“Sebastiano?” I heard Nicola call and looked up.
“Are you okay?“ He asked and came back the few steps to me.
“I'll be fine!”
He put his arm around me.
“Hey kid, you'll be fine,” he said and pulled me towards the ice cream stand.
Once there, I quickly realized why Nicola wanted to be here. There was a whole bunch of teenagers gathered around him. And they all seemed to know Nicola well. They greeted him warmly and gave him a big hug.
Apparently I was forgotten, because Nicola made no move to introduce me. I went to the ice cream stand and looked at the billboard. The man behind the counter asked me what I wanted.
Sometimes it's good to grow up bilingual. I ordered my ice cream in almost perfect Italian. Nicola was now completely surrounded. I heard him say something and the whole group laughed. That was the Nicola I actually knew.
The pure macho. I paid and grabbed my shoes. After a quick glance at the pack, I decided to go for a walk. I walked past them, and no one took any notice of me. I walked down the beach until I reached the water.
Light waves lapped around my feet. Still quite cold, I noticed. I looked to both sides and couldn't decide which direction to go. My ice cream tasted great and my eyes wandered out to sea, where I could see some ships.
Loud laughter behind me woke me from my daydream and I turned my head. Nicola was still surrounded, throwing around snappy remarks. His movements, the way he presented himself now, was quite different from before.
I just started walking, not paying attention to the direction I was taking. During the week, there wasn't much going on here at the beach anyway. Most people worked and only came out here on weekends.
There were a few umbrellas on the beach and a few people scattered here and there, but otherwise there was no one around. The only source of noise was the group behind me. I looked at the ground and saw the water lapping at my feet.
Strangely enough, I wasn't thinking about Mum, but Nicola was on my mind. He wasn't really my type, but suddenly I found myself thinking about his appearance.
He was a little shorter than me, had the typical dark hair that many Italians had. You could tell that he played soccer. Another thing I couldn't do with.
I preferred swimming. At home I was in the swimming club? at home? well? now my home was here. From today on I lived here in Italy with my dad.
*-*-*
I let the scooter roll slowly up the driveway until I came to a stop in the garage. Dad had already cleared the car, and it was also already in the garage. I put my helmet on the bench and walked through the small door at the end of the garage into the garden.
Here, too, everything had already been laid out. At the end of the property grew a few pine trees, which would certainly provide nice shade in the summer. In the middle of the garden, the pool dominated the picture.
Surrounded by flowerbeds, the water lay quietly. The late sun shimmered on the surface.
“Back already?” I heard Dad's voice behind me.
He was sitting on the terrace with a coffee cup in his hand.
“Yes,” I replied, ‘I just wanted to tidy up something in my room.”
“Where is Nicola?”
I ran up the few steps to the terrace and dropped down onto a chair next to Dad.
“Still at the beach?’ ‘No, I'm back.’ ”There were a few friends of his.”
Dad looked at me penetratingly.
“Sebastiano, I know it's hard for you, but you'll also find friends here.”
What did he mean by “here, too”? I didn't have any friends in Germany either. Sure, I knew a lot of people through the swimming club and from school, but real friends? No, I didn't have any of those.
“No problem, Dad,” I replied and got up again.
I entered the house and for the first time saw the living room, with furniture from Germany. The room was perfectly laid out, as if Mom knew exactly what would fit in here.
I crossed the living room and came to the hallway. I took off my shoes and put them next to Dad's. I ran up the stairs in my socks and closed my bedroom door behind me.
The shops were almost closed, but I could still feel the warmth coming in from outside. I decided to take a shower. The long drive and the walk on the beach had left their mark.
I took off my shorts and shirt and went into the bathroom. There was another box here that had not yet been unpacked. So I decided to finish that too. I put my underwear away in the small cupboards.
You might think I'm a slob if you saw the contents of my cosmetics, but I didn't care. So I put the pots and bottles on the shelf and put the creams in the cupboard.
I grinned to myself, thinking of my mom, who often stood in my bathroom trying out my things and discussing the effects and uses of them with me. When the box was empty, I folded it up and put it outside in the hallway.
I heard a bell downstairs, but I wanted to take a shower now. I turned on the water and closed the shower cubicle behind me. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the warm water trickling over my body.
I don't know how long I had been in the shower, but suddenly I had the feeling that I was being watched. I turned around and saw someone standing at the door, blurred through the polished glass of the shower cubicle.
I carefully opened the door a crack to see who was standing there. Nicola was standing there, leaning against the doorframe, with a broad grin on his face. What was that supposed to mean? He turned around and disappeared.
I turned off the water and left the shower. Still wet, I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around me and left the bathroom. Nicola had made himself comfortable on my bed.
“Why did you run off so quickly?” Nicola asked, scrutinizing me.
“Um... I had the feeling... oh well, it doesn't matter...”
Nicola looked at me questioningly.
“Hey, they're your friends,” I said, slowly forming a puddle.
Nicola stood up.
“Sorry, I didn't realize that. I just suddenly noticed that you were gone.”
Aha, they noticed that I was gone.
“Hey, I've only been here a few hours, we'll have plenty of time to go to the beach.”
Nicola was now standing right in front of me and had a stupid grin on his face. I was still dripping and slowly I didn't feel comfortable in my own skin. He tapped his finger on my naked chest.
“Right!”, was all he said.
He just stood there and grinned at me. What's the point of this nonsense now?
“I'll put something on,“ I said, and headed back to the bathroom.
“Are you cold?”
“No, but I'm leaking out here,” I replied.
His gaze fell to the floor, where a small puddle of water had already formed. Only now did I see that there was a bulge under the towel, which told me that my thing was at half-mast.
Was I completely stupid now? What was stimulating about this scene? My eyes wandered back up, where I saw Nicola's still grinning face.
Without saying a word, I ran back into the bathroom. I threw the towel over the sink and opened one of the cabinets.
“Do you feel like going out tonight?”
I sat up, startled. I hadn't noticed that Nicola had been following me. His eyes fell on my nakedness and his eyes went wide. If there was one thing I knew about my body, it was that I was well endowed.
I quickly put on a pair of boxers as if nothing had happened.
“I don't know yet, I'll have to ask Dad.”
The stiffness in his gaze dissolved and for the first time I noticed an embarrassment in Nicola that I had not yet experienced.
“I'll be downstairs waiting for you.”
And he was gone. I grinned to myself and ran back to my room. I looked at the bags with my clothes. I didn't really feel like going through them anymore. I grabbed the big one and opened the zipper.
One after the other, I pulled out several things at once until I had found something suitable for me. Freshly dressed, I felt much better. I slipped into my sneakers and walked back down.
Nicola was sitting with Dad on the terrace. They were talking about some work to be done at Aunt Maria's house. When I entered the terrace, both heads turned to me.
“I've already asked your dad, he doesn't mind if you go out tonight,” Nicola said.
I looked at Dad.
“Hey Junior, you can really go out. I still have enough to do with unpacking... I have something to do. Maybe I'll go over to Maria's later, too?”
“Thanks,“ I said.
“You're welcome,” Dad smiled at me.
Nicolas' gaze wandered from me to Dad and back again.
“So what's on the agenda now?” I asked.
“Um, actually nothing yet, we're meeting the others at Gino's around eight,“ Nicola explained.
The others? His friends. Oh well. Just sitting around at home wasn't a solution either.
“Hungry?” I asked.
A unanimous yes was heard from the two gentlemen.
“I guess Aunt Maria also filled our fridge,” I said, and entered the house again.
For the first time, I also saw the kitchen. This one was brand new, because the old one from Germany was no longer usable. Here, as in the rest of the apartment, Dad hadn't skimped on technology either.
I pulled open the large refrigerator and my eyes fell on nothing but tasty-looking things. Auntie knew what men like to eat, I remarked with a grin. By now, Dad and Nicola had followed me.
*-*-*
Unlike at noon, I was introduced to the crowd this evening. I even knew some faces from before. The “Gino” was actually “just” a bar. But from their point of view, it was something special.
Since the whole town met here and young and old didn't necessarily want to sit together, it was divided into two parts. The downstairs was for the old, the upper floor was left to the young.
But with the heat, we were sitting outside with the scooters anyway. I had a Coke in my hand, sipping it and listening to the conversations of the others. It was about a party that apparently was supposed to take place at the end of the holidays.
“If they think I'm going to dance my ass off like last year, they're dreaming,” said the girl next to Nicola.
“You're just made for it, darling,” said Nicola, putting her arms around her.
I looked at them a little enviously.
“Could you talk to the committee and get them to plan something different? If only I could audition for something modern, or with someone else.”
She looked at Nicola with her big doe eyes.
“I'll see what I can do, but I can't promise anything.”
And who would you like to dance with, Angela? And what? another girl asked.
This Angela was still leaning on Nicola and seemed to be keeping it up. I sighed inwardly. I knew that Nicola liked girls and so it was clear that he probably had a girlfriend.
I would be tempted by something Latin American, Angela answered and let her eyes wander through the group, but with our guys you can forget it!
The girls giggled and the boys made faces.
What kind of festival is this? I asked into the silence.
“The Feast of Mary. Do we celebrate it every year at the end of our vacation?“ explained the guy next to me, whose name I didn't know either.
“Tino?” he said, raising his hand as if he had read my thoughts.
“Sebastiano?“ I replied, shaking his hand.
“And what do you have to dance there?” I asked Angela directly.
Oh, some stupid folk dance.
Alone?
Yes, but I don't feel like it anymore.
The group fell silent. It was actually strange for about ten people, but everyone listened to what I said.
And what did you mean by 'you can forget about the guys'?
That none of our beauties here can dance.
The girls grinned again, the rest looked annoyed.
“What do I have to be able to dance for?” Nicola grumbled, waving his hand.
“Because maybe I want to dance with you?”
It wasn't a question, but rather a statement. From the looks on the guys' faces, I could see that dancing wasn't exactly at the top of their list of favorite things.
“It's not that hard,“ I blurted out.
All eyes turned to me in astonishment.
“You can dance?” Angela asked in amazement.
“Um... I had dance lessons at a dance school in Germany.”
“Ballroom or Latin?”
Oh dear, I had gotten myself into something now. Nobody here seemed to have any idea what Angela and I were talking about. Well, maybe the girls, at most.
Both: “Cool.” “Beginners' course?”
“No. I've taken a few courses.”
I suddenly felt uncomfortable. The guys stared at me strangely. Except for Nicola, who kept grinning to himself.
“Fabio, turn on the jukebox,“ Angela suddenly called.
One of the guys got up and went to the jukebox, which was outside near the entrance.
“And pick something hot!”
Somehow I just realized that Angela and Nicola were probably the bosses of the group here.
“What are you up to?” Nicola asked.
“Check out your buddy,” came promptly from Angela.
Shit. Not here in front of everyone. Music started playing. A bit older, but quite fast, just as Angela wanted. She wriggled out of Nicola's grip and stood in front of me.
“So, now show me what you've got!”
A bit embarrassed, I stood up. All eyes were on me. I handed my coke bottle to the grinning Tino next to me.
“Fox?” I asked.
She nodded. When I put my hand on her hips, the others started giggling and whistling. Just don't panic, just do the dancing I had learned. I was amazed because Angela was easy to lead.
She danced along with all the steps that occurred to me. By now, I was only listening to the music. I let the sounds and the beat wash over me and spun around with Angela. The song ended much too quickly for my taste.
After a split second of silence, the others started whooping and clapping loudly.
“Hats off, Sebastiano. You're a great dancer!” I heard Angela say.
I felt the blood rush to my face.
“Thanks, but you're good too.”
The others laughed.
“Stop laughing. You can learn something from Sebastiano here. Anyone can run around on the field and play ball!”
Oh dear. The laughter stopped. At least the boys stopped laughing. The girls grinned. Nicola no longer grinned. But I couldn't really interpret his look. Was he angry with me or with his sweetheart?
Sebastiano, you have to teach our boys, one of the girls called and suddenly there was horror on the boys' faces.
“Cool idea,“ said another girl.
“Erm... I'm not that good,” I stuttered.
“Don't understate it,“ said Angela, who snuggled up to Nicola again.
“Do you have something bigger in mind?” Nicola piped up.
You know me, don't you, sweetheart?” Angela purred and kissed him on the mouth.
I took a deep breath and sat down next to Tino again, who handed me my coke. Man, what had I gotten myself into here? Suddenly I was the center of attention. Everyone was silent and waiting for an explanation from Angela.
But she was devoting herself to Nicolas' lips, which brought me back to the realization that Nicola was taboo? well, and also out of reach.
“You're hatching something. Your request?” I should talk to the board, wasn't that the plan?, I heard Nicola say.
Angela smiled broadly.
And what thoughts are going on in that little head?, Nicola kissed Angela's forehead, “around?
Angela turned to the others.
Haven't you seen those formation dances on TV, I think they're hot!?
A general shaking of heads went around. Only a few nodded.
“You want what?“ Nicola asked in horror.
“To do formation dancing,” Angela replied.
Silence. The girls looked at each other and nodded.
“We're in,“ one of them said.
Angela's head turned to Nicola. I wouldn't like to be in his shoes right now.
“What?” Nicola asked, annoyed.
“What do you think of it?”
Nonsense. I'm not going to jump around like a fool, ouch.?
Ow, that had hurt. Angela had given him a good elbow in the side.
“Don't be such a baby!” Angela hissed.
Nicola fell silent. The others were silent too, only the girls grinned. None of the boys dared to say anything and suddenly I felt the gaze of Angela.
“Sebastiano, what do you think of the idea? Would you join in?”
Oh shit, I had suspected it. Either I was killed by several male eyes at once, or I was celebrated by the female counterparts sky-high jubilant.
? Um? I don't know? I can only speak for myself? I like to dance.?
Nicolas gave me a reproachful look. But what should I do? Angela, on the other hand, was pleased.
?Is it difficult to learn??, Tino asked next to me.
?Tino!? Nicolas said reproachfully.
?You can ask, can't you??, Tino said quietly.
I ignored Nicola now and turned to Tino.
“Once you've mastered the basic steps, the rest will be easy. Besides, formation dancing is rehearsed. Every step is predetermined and can therefore be learned.”
“I see, that's experience talking,” I heard Angela say, ”so are you going to do it?”
I understood this question more as an order. Everyone should participate, there was nothing left for the boys to do but join in. I didn't necessarily want to mess with Angela either. I'm sure everyone here thought the same way.
“I guess we have no choice,” Nicola grumbled, which earned him another nudge.
*-*-*
It took me a moment to realize where I was. In my new room. It was late because Angela had overwhelmed us with her ideas, while I was secretly thinking, what else does she want to do?
Nicola hadn't said a word to me that evening. But our eyes met quite often during Angela's explanations. My sympathy for him increased, but he remained out of reach for me.
The others were quite nice. I stretched and yawned heartily. I liked the idea Angela had picked up. Ballroom dancing. Mum liked to dance; she often danced with me when I was little.
She dragged me to dance lessons, never missed a party where I could have danced. I turned my head to the side, where there was a small picture of her. Her with me on the beach, me in her arms, at sunset.
“I miss you terribly.”
With tears in my eyes, I sat up and took the picture.
“I don't know what to do? otherwise I could always come to you. You always knew the answer?”
A tear dripped onto the picture and slowly ran down the glass.
“Even if she was only there to comfort me?”
I wiped the tears from my eyes.
“I love you, Mom,” I said, and put the picture back.
I got up and went to the balcony door. The sun was already high and it was still quiet in the house. I opened the door and stepped outside. Mom had always wanted to live here.
And now I enjoyed the view alone. I felt a little chilly, although the sun was already shining brightly. The wind blew through my hair and caressed my skin. It felt like someone was stroking me.
I don't know why, but I looked up? at the sky. It was a bright blue color that covered the whole field of vision. The blue stretched to the horizon, where it ended at the mountain ridges.
My gaze lowered, wandered into the garden. I should get dressed and see what Dad was doing. I re-entered my room, but left the balcony door open. Outside the house, I heard a scooter noise.
I ran to the front of the house and looked down. Nicola was just getting up on his scooter. What's he doing here? My eyes caught the clock radio. 10:41. Well, it wasn't early anymore.
Yawning, I ran downstairs. I was just opening the front door when Nicola was about to ring the bell.
“Well? Did you see me coming?” a surprised Nicola greeted me.
“Yes? Good morning,“ I said and ran towards the kitchen.
Nicola entered the house and closed the door behind him. Dad didn't seem to be there, which was confirmed by a note on the counter.
“With Maria. If you're hungry, just come after me, we'll eat there.” Dad
I turned on the coffee machine.
“Would you like a coffee too?“ I asked Nicola, who had now also come into the kitchen and was staring at me.
“What?” I asked.
“I was just wondering when I last saw you like this.”
“Like what?” I asked, looking down at myself.
I was embarrassedly moved to realize that I was only wearing my sleep shorts, which didn't look very flattering.
Have you been doing sports? I don't remember you being so well built.
My blood rushed to my head. Nicola was complimenting me on my appearance. I turned to the cupboard.
Have you been in a swimming club? Dancing? Do you want a coffee now? I tried to play down the matter as meaningless.
Yes? It looks good on you.
Shit, he didn't let up.
“You do what you can. Thanks,” I replied. ”Milk and sugar?”
I pulled two cups out of the cupboard.
“Black!”
Black like his hair, which spread curly over his head. Actually, you would think that when you took off the helmet, every hairstyle would somehow hang flattened. Not so with Nicola.
His curls fell loosely and lightly down his head, swinging with every movement Nicola made.
“So you like Angela's idea?” he suddenly asked.
I turned around and looked at him. There was no smile on his lips, but he didn't seem serious either.
“Yes, sure! I love dancing more than anything.”
Nicola looked briefly at the floor and then let his eyes wander around the kitchen. Behind me, the coffee machine started up and ground the coffee beans.
“Is something wrong?“ I asked.
He still didn't look at me, his eyes went towards the window.
“I wanted to ask you... if you... oh forget it,” he stammered.
“What? Say it!”
He now looked at me again. His cheeks turned slightly red.
“Can you teach me how to dance?”
It took me a second to process the question I had just heard. And then I started to laugh uncontrollably. Nicola grimaced.
“Sorry? Yesterday you weren't exactly thrilled by the idea, and today you want me to teach you?!”
He shrugged his shoulders. My God, the guy looked cute when he was at a loss.
“It was Angela's idea.
And I'm really supposed to teach you how to dance?”
“Yes. You're so good at it!”
“Well, I just know what I learned in the dance classes.”
No, it's obvious you love dancing. You put a lot more into it. I saw that when you were dancing with Angela. And how do you imagine it?
You said something about the basic steps?
I exhaled.
That's a lot.
I have a hard time remembering things.
You have to have a sense of rhythm.
Are you going to do it or not?
Are you doing this or not?
I'll get dressed, I said.
Why?
Because I don't want to dance across the carpet in my sleep shorts.
Why not, it would certainly be fun, Nicola grinned.
Besides, I don't plan on walking with crutches tonight after you trample my toes with your shoes.
For a second, we couldn't even be heard breathing, then Nicola started to laugh uproariously. My God? Those dimples when he laughed, the guy was heavenly. But before I betrayed any emotions on my part, I ran upstairs to get dressed.
I was standing in front of my closet and just pulling down my shorts when a whistle behind me broke the silence. Nicola was standing in the doorway, eyeing me as I stood naked, somewhat self-conscious, in front of the closet.
I quickly grabbed a pair of boxers and, how could it be otherwise, I almost fell flat on my face while putting them on. Again, a loud laugh rang through the house.
“As skilled as you are at dancing, you're probably clumsy at everyday things,” Nicola grinned.
Only when a godly guy was near me. I quickly pulled the rest of my clothes out of the closet and put them on. A quick glance at Nicola showed me that he had taken off his shoes and was now standing in front of me in socks.
Oh, it seemed to have worked and the Lord was thinking about my well-being? I mean, he was thinking about my poor feet.
“What shall we start with?“ Nicola asked.
“I don't know, what would you like to do?”
For a brief moment, his eyes sparkled devilishly and I didn't know how to interpret that.
“Never mind, I don't know my way around...”
“Latin American?” “Mmm, then let's start with the Cha-Cha-Cha.”
You're the dance teacher?
*-*-*
I had been trying out the basic steps for over two hours. Nicola had them down too, but somehow there was a lack of harmony in his movements. For the thousandth time that morning, I took a deep, exasperated breath.
My feet were already hurting because the lesson was not without a few collisions. Of course, Nicola mixed up right and left a few times and stepped on my feet with full force.
“Let's try it differently,” I said, repeating the song on the CD player.
I stood across from Nicola and took on the role of the woman.
“Now, you put your right hand around my waist and take my hand with the other.”
Nicola giggled and pulled me close. For the first time, only a few centimeters separated our faces. I inhaled his scent, which alone made my knees weak.
A hand on the side, my hand in his warm, soft hand did the rest.
“Is something wrong?” Nicola asked seriously when I looked at him a few milliseconds too long.
“Um, not so close, otherwise you won't see your feet?”
Nicola immediately pushed me a little way away and I was able to breathe properly again.
“Better like that?” asked my willing student.
I nodded. I reached to the side and started the music. Right at the first beat, Nicola was on my foot and I howled. He couldn't seriously stop laughing. I stopped the music and went back to the beginning.
“Start the cha-cha-cha with your right foot!”
Nicola nodded and grinned. I started the music again and went back to my starting position. This time it went better, at least my feet were spared. I noticed how Nicola concentrated hard and counted the steps.
He also kept looking at the floor.
“Look at me!” I ordered, which worked because he looked at me.
'You're the man, you lead. When you dance with Angela, it's... Ouch?
I hobbled to the armchair and dropped down.
'Sorry, Sebastiano. I keep getting mixed up.
'I noticed that,' I replied reproachfully, rubbing my toes.
I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. Can we try again? asked Nicola.
Annoyed, I stood up and pressed play on the music. Just as I had resumed my dancing position and was about to start dancing, a burst of laughter interrupted us.
'A handsome couple!' I heard, and Nicola and I moved apart.
“Oh hi? Dad, I didn't hear you?“ I stammered.
I really hadn't heard him.
“Hello Nicola? No wonder with the loud music?”
“Hello Marco?” said a frightened Nicola next to me.
“I'll teach Nicola how to dance?”
“Interesting?“ I've already heard about your plans,” my father began, “and you're the number one topic of conversation in town.”
“Nicola and I?” I asked, horrified.
Nicola looked at me, confused.
“No! Your plan to rehearse a dance as a group.”
“And what do people think of it?” Nicola asked.
Most of them are positive about your plan, although quite a few doubt that you will actually do it.”
“Positive, so? so. And whether we'll make it!
Of course we'll make it,” said Nicola, voicing what I was thinking. Dad had probably just sparked his ambition.
“If it's not too much trouble, do you think I could help you?“ my dad asked.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“You might teach Nicola how to dance, but what about the rest of the boys? Do you want to teach them all?”
I hadn't really thought about that.
“Loretta? I don't know if you remember her, she used to be our dance teacher here. She would help you.”
“Loretta?“ ‘Wow, I didn't know that,’ Nicola replied.
“If you've already found someone for us, would you also know a suitable room for us?” I asked.
“We've got that problem sorted out too,” my father said.
“We?”
“Yes, my sister, Nicolas' mom and I.”
Nicola looked at me again, confused.
“Don't look like that. We think it's a great idea and we thought we'd support you wherever we can. By the way, Nicola, your mom even said something about jerseys she could get for you.”
Wow, that was really awesome.
“Do the others know about this?“ Nicola asked.
“The ones we've reached, yes. You can take care of the rest. You're supposed to be at the old warehouse at two o'clock,” Dad explained.
Now I was really speechless. But so was Nicola. He just shrugged his shoulders a few times, but couldn't utter a word.
“Well, I'd better disappear again, I've still got a lot to do,” said Dad, and off he went.
My head was spinning with excitement. Nicola smiled at me.
*-*-*
It had worked, they had all come. They were all standing around their scooters, more or less, and saying nothing. Somehow they were all looking at me expectantly. I didn't understand that now.
I looked around, but there was still no sign of Angela. Another scooter came down the street and I recognized Nicola. But he was alone, and there was no sign of Angela.
“Hi guys, I've got the key,“ Nicola called out as he took off his helmet.
“Where's Angela?” I asked.
“Am I her nanny?” Nicola replied.
Oops, a faux pas. It seems the man was in a bad mood. Nina stepped up to Nicola.
“Hey, if I'm calculating right, we're still missing a guy,” she said.
Nicola looked around at the group. I quickly did the head count and if Angela comes, we'll be nine people. Besides Nicola, Tino and yours truly, there's only Christo, I think his name is.
“How about Fabrizio?” Nicola asked.
A general murmur began. I didn't understand anything that was being said here and asked.
Who is Fabrizio?
“Fabrizio is Angela's twin brother,“ Nina replied.
Yes, and?
Well, he's a bit weird,” Nicola answered my question.
What do you mean by weird?
Call Angela and ask her to bring Fabrizio,” Nina shouted as Nicola was about to answer.
Nicola made a face and took out his cell phone. It took a while.
“Hello Angela, this is Nicola. Could you bring Fabrizio?”
I noticed tension in Nicola, even though he had asked the question as normally as possible.
“No, I haven't forgotten, but there are only nine of us here with you, we're missing a guy... Nina suggested it? No, certainly not? Please ask him to come.”
Nicola's tone had become a little icier. Whatever had happened, it didn't help to spread good cheer here. Nicola ended the call and let the cell phone slide back into the side pocket of his trousers.
“Is he coming with us?“ came the quick reply from Nicola.
“All right?” I asked quietly.
Nicola raised his head and looked at me with sad eyes. He nodded but didn't say a word. An older woman whose face seemed familiar to me approached us.
“Hello Loretta!“ called Tino.
“Hello children,” came the reply from the woman.
So that was Loretta, the woman my dad had told us about. Nicola walked up the steps to the front door. He put the key in the lock and turned it. The door sprang open with a crack.
Tino helped Loretta up the steps, although she didn't look frail to me. We all followed them into the hall. I couldn't see Nicola anywhere, until suddenly the ceiling light came on.
He stepped out of a room where he had apparently found the light switch.
“And who has the music with them?” Christo asked.
Nicola slapped his forehead with his hand.
“Wait, I forgot,“ he called, and he was gone.
“So you want to put on a dance?” Loretta suddenly asked, letting her eyes wander over the group.
A general nod was seen. Loretta's eyes remained fixed on me.
“You're Marco's son, aren't you?”
I nodded.
You look a lot like your mother.
You knew my mother? I asked in astonishment.
You can drop the 'you', I'm just Loretta to everyone around here. Yes, I knew your mother very well, because her mother and I were very good friends.
Grandmother Fine? I asked, even more astonished.
The woman nodded. Outside, we heard a motor scooter and a little later Nicola entered the camp with Angela and a boy. Nicola had a large ghetto blaster in his hand.
“So, this is where the music is,” he shouted and placed the device on the floor.
At first glance, you could see that Angela and this boy, Fabrizio, were twins. They had the same hair color and their facial features were very similar. My eyes lingered on his eyes, which were also looking at me intently.
“Fabrizio, this is Sebastiano, who I've been telling you about,” said Angela.
He nodded at me briefly.
“Right, guys, let's get started,” Loretta said, ”so you can forget about the idea of learning ballroom dancing.”
But...,“ Nicola interjected.
“There isn't enough time to teach you something like that,” Loretta interrupted Nicola. “I would suggest that we learn a dance to modern music, where you can incorporate dance steps.”
No one said a word.
“What music?” I asked.
“If you don't mind, I brought a few pieces here,“ Loretta replied, which probably didn't go down well with some of them.
“Just relax and listen to it first,” said Loretta, handing Nicola a stack of CDs.
“Don't think just because I'm old that my taste is old too,” she added, while Nicola put the first CD on.
We waited eagerly to hear what kind of music was coming. Nicola turned up the volume and then stepped back a little. Suddenly, hard bass sounds reverberated through the hall before the music began. Wow, I really wouldn't have thought that Loretta's music was that contemporary.
A satisfied grin spread through the crowd and now almost no one could stand still and was tapping to the music. The song ended and again there was silence in the warehouse.
“Loretta, how come you like this kind of music?” Nina finally asked, and I had the feeling that everyone wanted to know.
“You young people probably think I only listen to arias and stuff like that. You're wrong. This music can't be bought anywhere, my grandson put it together on the PC, especially for you!”
We looked at each other in amazement.
“And how should this go now?“, asked Nicola.
“Who of you can dance at all? Maybe had dance lessons already?”, asked Loretta.
Except for my and Angela's finger, only a few hands went up tentatively.
“That's good for a start. You who can dance a little, stand here.”
Loretta bent down and drew some circles on the floor. Angela looked at me and I shrugged. We did as Loretta asked and stood on the circles. Even those who hadn't raised their hands before.
“No, not like that, you have to do something for the overall picture,” Loretta continued, pulling Tino out of his circle and swapping him with Nina.
After a few more changes, Loretta thought the overall picture was good. I felt observed and turned my head. Angela's brother Fabrizio was standing behind me. He smiled shyly at me and looked back at Loretta.
“Aren't we standing a little close together?” asked Christo.
No! Later on the stage in the community center you won't have more space either.
Suddenly I realized that we wanted to perform in front of people, lots of people. A shiver ran down my spine and the hair on my arms stood up.
“Are you cold?” Fabrizio whispered behind me.
I turned my head and whispered no. Fabrizio looked at me questioningly.
“Well, I'll show you a few easy dance steps to start with,” said Loretta.
She turned her back to us and really started to demonstrate a few steps. Despite her age, the woman was quite agile and I started to imitate the steps. Like me, the others also made mistakes as they tried it out.
But Loretta seemed to be patient and showed us again and again. Slowly but surely, I got the steps right and even dared to watch the others. It looked great already, that we almost did the same steps together.
“So now, let's do it with music!”
*-*-*
I dropped onto my bed, exhausted. My feet felt like heavy stones. Loretta had practiced with us for three hours. Tomorrow she wanted to show us steps that we would then dance in pairs.
My eyes fell on the window, where the sun was shining directly in. It was already low in the sky. I heard the front door downstairs.
“Sebastiano? I'm home.”
“I'm up here,“ I replied.
I heard quick footsteps coming up the stairs and a little later my father appeared at my open door. He wrinkled his nose.
“Boy, oh boy, it smells pretty bad in here!” he said.
Only now did I realize that I had simply kicked off my shoes and was lying there with smelly socks.
“Sorry, we danced for three hours,“ I said, getting up.
At least I tried to. My legs were lame, my feet like lead. My father walked past me and opened the balcony door.
“Thanks,” I said.
“So, how was the lesson with Loretta?“ my father said with a grin, sitting down on a chair.
“To be honest, it was good but really exhausting.”
“I would have been surprised if it wasn't.” “Your mother? I had a dance class with her.”
“Mom learned how to dance from her?”
“Yes.”
Right? It's no wonder. I'm completely exhausted, everything hurts.
I would suggest you fill your tub with water and lie down in it.
Good idea.
But first, take your shoes out onto the balcony and your socks?
Yes, I'll do that right away, I replied, as a flood of sock scent hit my nostrils.
I rose from my bed like an old man. My father went back downstairs and I followed his advice about the bathtub.
*-*-*
The sun was already close to the horizon when I arrived at the beach. I just felt like watching the sunset. I locked my scooter, took off my shoes and socks and put them next to the scooter.
Slowly, I wandered towards the water. The hot bath had really worked wonders. Would I wake up the next morning with aches and pains? So I walked down to the water and looked for a place to sit.
I slowly slid down onto the sand without taking my eyes off the sun. It looked glorious. The sky had taken on a red color and the setting sun was reflected on the waves.
I don't know how long I had been sitting there. I only suddenly felt how wet my arm had become. Tears were dripping down it. My thoughts were with my mother again.
I missed her terribly. I couldn't share everything I was experiencing with her anymore. I was sure she was up there somewhere, keeping a watchful eye on me. She was with me.
But only in my thoughts. I missed her hugs, the tousling of my hair. Her tickling attacks or just sitting together in silence. The sun blurred before my eyes.
I miss you so much, Sebastiano.
I jumped in fright and turned my head in the direction from which my name was called. Fabrizio was standing there. I wiped the tears from my eyes.
“Yes?“ I replied.
“Am I disturbing you?” he asked, which I shook my head at.
I looked out to sea again. Fabrizio sat down next to me.
“I actually wanted to do my evening rounds, that's when I spotted you,” Fabrizio continued.
I looked at him briefly and turned my head back towards the water.
“Just wanted to watch the sunset?”
Have you been crying?
I wiped my eyes again.
My sister told me what happened. I'm sorry.
It's okay.
I can kind of understand what that's like.
Yes,' I asked in a slightly sarcastic tone.
Maybe too sarcastic, because Fabrizio grimaced and looked at the ground.
“Four years ago, my father left,” he began to speak softly, ‘I miss him terribly.”
“That's not the same, well, gone is gone,’ I said.
Again I turned my head to Fabrizio and looked at him. Only now did I notice his small snub nose, over which a tear was flowing.
“I'm sorry, Fabrizio,“ I said and put my arm around him.
Fabrizio leaned against me as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“You're right, it's not the same. You'll never see your mother again.”
“Yes,” I said, “but somehow she's always with me.”
I smiled because images appeared in my mind, together with my mom. I felt Fabrizio's warmth by my side and somehow I calmed down, a nice feeling spread inside of me.
“You must think I'm a crybaby,” I heard Fabrizio say meekly.
“Why, I was still crying a moment ago.”
That's true,” he replied, ‘it feels good.”
“What do you mean?”
“That I can lie in your arms.”
“Hey, it's nothing special.”
“It is to me, or hasn't anyone told you about me yet?”
“I don't know what you mean,’ I said, looking at him questioningly.
“Haven't you been warned about me?”
“Um... they said you were weird, but I prefer to make up my own mind!”
Fabrizio was still leaning against me without moving.
“I don't know if you'll still think that way when I tell you something.”
“Why, do you have skeletons in your closet? Are you part of the Mafia?”
Now Fabrizio started to laugh. It was a beautiful laugh, an infectious laugh. He broke free from my embrace.
“Have you ever been in love before?” he suddenly asked.
It was a question I had not yet asked myself. But now that it was in the room, I realized that I really was in love? with Nicola. But he was taboo for me and certainly had no interest in me either.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you,” I heard Fabrizio say next to me.
Only now did I realize that I had been lost in my thoughts and had probably made him wait a little too long for an answer.
“No, you didn't? I just realized that I'm really in love with someone.”
“In Germany?”
??h? no, here.?
?So quickly??
I looked out at the sun again, which had now sunk a little into the water.
?Well? things like that happen? why are you asking anyway??
Fabrizio took a deep breath next to me and looked out as well.
?I've fallen in love with someone too? it's come out and everyone's heard it.?
There's nothing wrong with that, is there? The usual stupid comments, you're above all that, aren't you? I asked.
I could tell that Fabrizio was struggling with himself.
“Stupid comments?” Yes, but not like that.
“I don't understand.”
Fabrizio looked me straight in the eye. His bright blue eyes in the setting sun.
“I was wondering why you hugged me. Because I'm gay, I fell in love with a boy?”
I continued to look into Fabrizio's eyes, but didn't say anything. I had to digest what I had just heard first.
“You really didn't know? I'm sorry,” he said and started to get up.
“Wait!“ I said, holding on to his arm.
He looked at me briefly and let himself fall back. Now it was me who didn't quite know what to say.
“Doesn't it bother you?” The others in Angela's group all know, and Angela always insists that no one objects, but I don't really belong to it.
“No, it doesn't bother me,“ I said quietly.
“Really? Are you serious?”
“Would it bother you if I were?” I asked.
He looked at me.
“No, I don't think so. I know what it's like when everyone looks at you strangely. I don't really care who loves who.
?Good attitude!?
?That only a few have??
?I have it too.?
?You're an exception among the heterosexuals, then.?
?I didn't say that I'm heterosexual.?
Fabrizio looked at me with wide eyes. He seemed to have trouble understanding what I had just said.
?I'm gay too??
?Really??, was all Fabrizio could manage.
Do you know any other question besides 'really'?
Fabrizio was still staring at me.
Do you now know why I don't mind hugging you? I liked that too.
He was still sitting next to me, stunned.
You're pulling my leg, right?
Why? What reason could I have?
I don't believe this, somehow!
I sighed. I raised my hand, put it around Fabrizio's neck and pulled him towards me. Without resistance, he let it happen until our lips met. I didn't know what had possessed me to kiss Fabrizio, but I suddenly liked it.
My first kiss with a boy. Slowly, I came down, away from Fabrizio's face, who still had his eyes closed.
“Wow,“ I heard him say as he opened his eyes.
I blushed. I suddenly realized what I had just done and Fabrizio started grinning.
“May I ask who you have fallen in love with?” came unexpectedly from Fabrizio.
I suddenly felt embarrassed and my eyes dropped to the floor. He had been honest with me, so I should be too.
'In Nicola?' I said almost in a whisper, barely audible.
'What?', asked Fabrizio and started laughing loudly.
“What's so funny?” I asked, completely taken aback. ”What's there to laugh about?”
Fabrizio was rolling on the floor next to me with laughter. I was slowly getting annoyed. I confided in him and he laughed. Fabrizio slowly regained his composure and sat up.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you, but apparently we have the same tastes,“ Fabrizio explained, continuing to laugh.
“You were also...”
Fabrizio nodded. Now I had to grin too. Meanwhile, the sun had almost disappeared, only a small edge was still looking out.
“And what will happen now? I mean, does anyone know about you?” Fabrizio asked.
I shook my head.
“I'm the first person you're telling this to? Really??
“Yes? really?, I said somewhat annoyed.
“So? I'm not telling anyone??
“Thank you?!?
“Do you want to tell someone??
“I wanted to??, I suddenly remembered guiltily.
“And why didn't you??
My mother got cancer? I didn't want to burden her?
Oh!?
Yes OH!?
Sorry? Do you really think it would have burdened her?
I don't know? I'll never know.?
And suddenly it was back, the sadness. Now it was Fabrizio who took me in his arms.
*-*-*

The building was a relic of the late 70s of the last century, the seating looked almost modern again, but was uncomfortable to the point of no return. But what do you expect from a court? Justice should be spoken and not a beauty prize awarded, but it could have been made a little friendlier; the color scheme on the walls was enough to make you want to run away!
I stared at the wall, massaging my temples, a mild headache was on the way. What was I doing here, anyway? I was waiting! Waiting to be called to give a statement. A statement in a matter that I had long since successfully repressed. I hadn't thought about Enrico for four long years, who had suddenly stopped all contact with me. How I had grieved back then! But grief turned to anger and finally to forgetting; life had to go on somehow.
But since exactly four days ago, since I had fished the summons out of my letterbox, forgetting had come to an abrupt end: Enrico was on my mind again! I had nightmares, woke up bathed in sweat, my inner peace was gone. But what should I testify? The last time I saw him was at Easter 2007, then a few letters followed; in his last letter he hinted at an Arab patron. While I had thought he was the lover of an oriental sheikh, a certain Benedikt Hartenberg had killed him, and the charge was manslaughter.
The door to the courtroom opened, and a slight, lanky law enforcement officer peered into the hallway. “Mr. Kleeve?” I nodded. “Please come in, it's your turn now.”
I followed the uniformed officer, who more or less led me to the witness chair. After I sat down, I unbuttoned my jacket and let my gaze wander. To my right sat two men: a somewhat portly bespectacled gentleman in a robe and a cute young man, albeit in a somewhat cheap suit.
On the bench sat three professional judges, the two “civilians” were sitting outside, the man looked like a teacher to me, the woman sitting next to the clerk looked like the sister of my dentist, she had the same horse teeth. The presiding judge, surrounded by a rather athletic type with a well-groomed three-day beard and a middle-aged lady, had snow-white hair and wore gold-rimmed glasses.
To my left, sitting between two lawyers, was a man in his mid-fifties who looked like a smartly dressed insurance salesman: He wore a thick gold chain around his neck, his shirt open, his hands ringed like those of the former fashion icon, Margaret Thatcher; two uniformed officers stood behind him. His female legal counsel appeared normal, age difficult to estimate, the male counterpart had gelled hair and a mole on his left cheek; oversized sideburns belong in the past!
Mr. Kleeve, thank you for being able to comply with the summons at such short notice. Your name has not come up in the course of the proceedings so far, and you have been summoned at the request of the defense. The chairman cleared his throat. Let's start with your personal details: your name is Julius Friedrich Kleeve, you are 44 years old, a photographer, and live in Düsseldorf. You are not related to the defendant Benedikt Hartenberg?
I shook my head. “No, I don't know the gentleman at all.”
“Mr. Kleeve, you are no doubt aware that you must tell the truth in court. You would be liable to prosecution if you told an untruth here, and you don't even have to be under oath for that. But I'm already pointing out to you that you can always refuse to give evidence if you yourself would have to accuse a criminal offense.” He turned to the clerk: ”55th?
After the normal instruction, the same reference to the right to refuse to give evidence? What was that for? I don't see what I've done to make myself liable to prosecution.
The bespectacled judge ignored my objection. Mr. Kleeve, the defendant Hartenberg claims to be an acquaintance of yours, however.
“I'm sorry, I really don't know where I should put him.” I shrugged my shoulders.
The chairman took off his glasses. ‘The defendant has stated that he met you several times in the Cologne bar ’Zum Treber' and later at a kind of vernissage in Essen, in the rooms of the Blue disco.”
Please?” I had to process the information first. The Treber was one of the oldest Cologne hustler bars, not really a place I usually frequent.
The man with white hair played with the golden part in his hands. ”In Essen, they would have also introduced the defendant to the later victim Enrico Jublinski. What do you have to say about that?”
I was only in the Treber twice, once during normal opening hours, the other time it was a shoot without an audience. I looked at the guy in the dock again more closely, but I really didn't know where to put him at the moment. It may be that I met the defendant at the Blue at a vernissage and we exchanged a few words, because I often exhibit there, the owner is a good friend of mine. If you define that as knowing, then I know the defendant, but he is certainly not part of my immediate circle. When exactly did I introduce him to Enrico??
The gentleman in the middle looked at me sternly. “According to the defendant, Easter 2007.”
“Easter 2007?” I scratched my chin. “We presented the illustrated book with Enrico at Blue; it was, if you will, a pure sales event; it's always good when the model is also personally present at such events. Is that when it happened?”
The bespectacled gentleman nodded. “You are supposed to have praised him to the skies. Expressions like ‘horny hottie’ and ‘hot stuff’ were apparently used?”
“Wait a minute! It may be that I did describe Enrico that way, but was he really a hot stuff? I took a deep breath. His pictures spoke and speak for themselves, he was a natural in front of the camera! You really didn't have to praise him.
As the defendant put it, they had... The chairman leafed through his documents. ...the subsequent victim literally forced on him.?
Sorry, but that can't be it! Even though Enrico and I weren't a couple, we still had some kind of relationship. He was almost like my muse. I would have done anything with him, but impose him on someone else? Not on your life! I would have liked to have jumped up and taken the insurance agent to task.
The man in the robes smiled benignly. “And what was your relationship to the victim?”
“Very private, and I think you can say that I idolized him.” I looked at the table in front of me. “If you want, I was more than infatuated with him, almost in love!”
There you have it! Kotelette grinned triumphantly. The witness was jealous and, after the victim Enrico Jublinski had finally left him for my client, killed him out of jealousy and then buried the body on the banks of the Bever Dam.
You're crazy! When would I have done that? I could have strangled him.
Chief Silverlocke raised his arms in appeasement. Gentlemen! No insults in my courtroom, I won't stand for it! Mr. Kleeve, then I'll ask you directly: Where were you on the weekend of June 16-17, 2007?
That was four years ago!? I took a deep breath. I'd have to check my organizer; I can't tell you off the top of my head.?
How long would it take them to get it? He rolled his eyes.
I grinned, reached into the left inside pocket of my jacket. “Give me two minutes, my old Tungsten T5 is no longer the fastest PDA, but it has been my loyal companion for six years.” There are other options for managing appointments today, but I'm attached to the thing. It took a while for me to find the relevant page, but even an old car can get to its destination. So, I was in Rio from June 14 to 19, 2007 for a photo shoot.
Anyone can claim that, right? The gelled-up beard got on my nerves.
I reached into my jacket again, but this time I took out my passport. I can even prove it! Brazil stamps passports when you leave the country, too, right?
It is enough if they show it to me.” Chief Silver Locks waved me over with your gold-rimmed glasses. Before I made the almost six-meter-long way to the judges' table, I still looked for the appropriate page and pressed the official document into the chairman's hand. He smiled, took another look at the data page and handed me back the burgundy passport. “Well, Mr. Defense Attorney, Mr. Kleeve can be ruled out as a possible perpetrator! He actually left Brazil on June 19, 2007.” He looked at me. ”Mr. Kleeve, I would be grateful if you could first tell me and the court how you even met the victim.”
I took a deep breath. But to do that, I would have to go back a little further.
Go ahead, you're the only witness this morning, so we have all the time in the world to listen to your story. A smile crossed his face.
I briefly wondered where I should start. I met Enrico more or less by chance. In 2005, Jonas Schmitz, the then chairman of Looks, wanted to publish a new brochure about the Strichers.
Looks? This time it was the public prosecutor who spoke. You mean the project to improve the situation of male prostitutes?
I nodded. “Exactly! Jonas asked me to shoot the pictures for this brochure. But I only got to it after the content work was already done, I just had to implement it visually. The funds for the project were quite limited, so no professional photo models, but a group of five or six hustlers: Germans, Turks, Thais – a pretty motley mix. In the Treber, we then approached a few of these escorts to see if they wanted to participate.
The chairman waved encouragingly with his glasses.
A smile flitted across my face. “Well, the landlord of the Treber was also on board, and some pictures were to be taken of him, showing how a chat-up line works, for example. Boris, one of the callboys we were able to recruit for the project, brought Enrico with him to the photo shoot. He said he was his flatmate.”
They were immediately smitten? The lady of the defense had a soprano voice.
I shook my head. On the contrary: I was annoyed that Boris had brought a stranger. In this milieu, it's difficult to take pictures anyway, and a certain level of trust must exist between photographer and model if you want to achieve a decent result. But since one of the guys who had agreed to come hadn't shown up, Enrico was basically conscripted, as the location wasn't available for an unlimited period of time.
My eyes slid over the bench. After the pictures were taken in the bar, we went to a private apartment in Rodenkirchen to take the pictures of the usual sexual practices. Blowjobs, wanking, licking and cuddling were no problem, all the hustlers took part in that, but they got caught in gay sex bags when it came to the GKG, that was a bit too tricky for them.
GKG? The teacher at the judges' table looked at me in disbelief.
I grinned. “Rubber control grip, so when the suitor is active in anal intercourse. It should be shown how the hustler, so to speak playfully, makes sure that only a sheathed penis enters him. Everyone who had been in the sex business for years literally drew in their horns. But Enrico? Enrico approached the oldest member of the “client group” and said, “You can shag me for a fiver! We'll do the recording, and when it's in the can, you just carry on fucking. Agreed?” I was a bit perplexed, but the two of them had their deal and their fun; so that was that for me.
So that's how they met the victim? The woman in the robe on the bench had turned quite red in the face. And what happened then?
Well, after we had shot all the footage for the brochure, the crew went to eat, that was part of the compensation for the shoot. I couldn't help but smile at all the memories that came flooding back. Anyway, David sits down next to me...
Which David? The prosecutor was still there.
I looked at him apologetically. “As a rule, hustlers have an alias; only beginners in the business use their real names. Enrico called himself David the whole time and was also introduced to us as David by Boris, who is actually called Viktor. Names in the business are all smoke and mirrors. What's-his-name Shakespeare said, “What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet?”
That's a pretty free translation. Dreitagebart grinned. ”How did it go on?”
David, or Enrico, was sitting next to me at dinner, we were chatting, joking around, having fun. Suddenly he asked me how much reasonable pictures of him would cost. Admittedly, I was a bit surprised and asked why he wanted pictures of himself. I stared at the cross on the back wall of the bench. His answer was simple: he wanted to get away from the station! He wanted to be able to choose the guys he would go to bed with himself. At the station, he would have to serve every bum who came along to make money, but Enrico wanted to play in a higher league, as an escort, as a luxury hustler, but... for that he needed good advertising material. I gave him my card and said he should come and see me.
And when did he come to see you? Chief Silver Locks looked at me curiously.
I tilted my head. He was waiting for me in the restaurant parking lot and asked if I could give him a ride into town. When we were just outside the cathedral, he said that we could do the recording now. What could I say? I took him to my place.
What happened next? The chairman was in a hurry.
I looked at him, confused. What happened next? On the way, we stopped at a gas station. I filled up the tank and he used the 50 euros he had gotten for the afternoon's fuck to buy a carton of cigarettes. When we were back in the car, he said that he would stay with me until the last pack was gone, I just had to take care of the food and the pictures. After a week, he left me, but then came back after only three days.
So they became lovers? Silver Locks smiled patronizingly.
I shook my head. “No, not a couple in the conventional sense, more of a community of convenience. We had our fun, and plenty of it, but Enrico quickly took on the role of a major domus: he ran the household, I was able to concentrate more on my work.”
So you weren't his sugar daddy? The prosecutor seemed to have had some experience in the field. The age difference between you was quite enormous, wasn't it? Over 20 years?
To be precise, 21 years and six months. As it turned out, Enrico was only 17 when we met, but I only found that out later. I looked at the representative of the law enforcement agency, who nodded contently.
The man with the sideburns interrupted my thoughts on how to continue. “So you have committed statutory rape?”
If you want to put it that way, but fornication with a hustler? I didn't like the guy one bit! No money changed hands, if that's what you mean. I never paid him for sex, not at any time! It was a kind of symbiosis that we entered into: he had a roof over his head and...
So you weren't his pimp?” Dreitagebart looked at me questioningly.
I could only shake my head in dismay. ‘God forbid! I'm not a pimp, I couldn't do that!’ After the first week with me, he said, he spent the weekend in Cologne. On Monday, he was back on the doorstep, stayed a few days, and then went back to Cologne to offer his services. This went on for almost half a year, until the end of 2005. He always came for two or three days and then left again. He only spent the weekend of his 18th birthday with me. After that, I didn't see him for almost a month.
Did you have a fight? Goldrand was curious.
I shook my head. No, we hardly ever had any arguments. Enrico was incredibly in need of harmony. The reason was simple: I was on vacation and he didn't have a key.
Didn't you trust him? The dentist's sister seemed concerned.
I looked at her, slightly confused. “Trust was there, David had long since become Enrico. But? something always hovered in the background, like a sword of Damocles. Enrico had told me his life story, but? this story was not coherent: sometimes his father had left his mother while she was pregnant, sometimes he died in a car accident, sometimes he was in jail for years for bank robbery. Sometimes he was an only child, sometimes the youngest of the family. The most outrageous story he once told was that his identical twin brother had died at birth. As I said, something was rotten in the state of Denmark, but that didn't surprise me particularly, because a hustler invents himself and his life anew for every trick.
My throat went dry, I looked at the chairman. “Could I please have a glass of water?”
“Of course! Ms. Sinkewitz, if you would be so kind as to He probably meant his minute-taker, but the young assistant district attorney, obviously his legal trainee, was faster. As he handed me the refreshment, our hands touched briefly, and I was struck by an electric shock; the boy had something.
Silberlocke grinned. “Well, that's taken care of, then. Please continue?”
I took a sip. “Gladly.” When I came back from vacation, he had changed considerably. He seemed harassed, exhausted, sad, angry with himself and the world. He said he had missed me, but I couldn't really buy it. “Why not?” The portly prosecutor wanted to know exactly.
I looked in his direction, but I preferred to look at his assistant, who, despite the suit, looked considerably better. It's pretty hard to put it right, but I think it was the safe haven he lacked. It's one thing to find shelter with a client for a night or two, but I think he missed the feeling of being able to come home. He was probably looking for a nest, a refuge. He stayed for a full two weeks, and during that time the first pictures for the book and the exhibition were taken. Enrico was a natural in front of the lens, as if he had never done anything else in his life.
The water was warm. He would probably have stayed longer, but it came to the only argument we had in the whole time. I caught him red-handed, as he?
?stole from her? Was that a question of the defense attorney or a prejudice?
I looked at the lady in disbelief. “No, Enrico was a prostitute, but not every hustler is also a thief. When he went to the supermarket and shopped for me, the receipt and change were always on the kitchen counter later, even if it was only 23 cents. He never touched my wallet, even when it was lying open on the table.” I turned back to the judge's bench. “I caught him with a woman in my bed! I don't have anything against women, but that was too much for me! The girl he had with him and with whom he... well, you know? didn't exactly inspire confidence either. I suspect he picked her up on the drug street and she probably reminded him of a sister from the home.
Didn't you just say that you had doubts about his life story? The gold-rimmed glasses were back on his nose.
I nodded. “That's right, but one condition for the long stay was absolute openness and honesty, so?” Besides, he stuck with one story from that point on, and it was also coherent. His father died in an accident when his mother was pregnant with his brother. She apparently couldn't cope with the loss and then turned to alcohol. The youth welfare office later took the children away from her and they were placed in separate foster families, which was a real mistake for Enrico: one foster father abused him and another beat him up so badly that he had to be hospitalized. He finally ended up in a home and went off the rails. At 16, he came to Berlin and ended up on the streets. He had a few run-ins with the police and then turned up in Cologne, where I met him.
“But that's not true!” a voice said from the background. I turned around and was shocked: there sat a second version of Enrico, only with glasses and medium-length hair. ”Our mother died of lung cancer and the old man was the drunk who was always off on his travels.”
Mr. Jublinski! The chief judge seemed annoyed. No interrupting! This isn't one of those other awful court shows. If you have something to add to a statement by another witness, you can indicate this with a hand signal, and I'll ask you about it.
All right! I just wanted to say it. Did I hear a pout in his voice?
Then you must be Justin? I laughed at the boy. Your brother hasn't said much about you, but you two look so much alike, it's a little scary.
Mr. Kleeve, the same goes for you: please don't talk to the witness bench! The senior judge was still grumbling. If you would please continue with the report?
I turned around again and smiled cautiously. With pleasure. Where was I?
Before the digression into the life story? The drug-addicted girl and the argument they had with the later victim? The gold-rimmed glasses were being held in hand again.
After the argument about Nadine, as the girl was called, there was silence for a while. He was pissed off, and so was I. But after a week and a half, we talked it out. I massaged my chin. He seemed to be really infatuated with her, because he took care of the girl touchingly, especially when she got pregnant; she was something like a little princess for him!
So the victim wasn't gay at all? Three-day stubble had question marks in his eyes.
I shrugged. “Most sex workers from southern Europe are heterosexual and send the money they earn from sex back home to support their wives and children, but Enrico?” Enrico was more likely to be gay than bisexual, because, except for the one time I caught him, not much happened with Nadine, at least I didn't notice anything. The two of them also behaved more like brother and sister than like boyfriend and girlfriend.
I took a sip of the rather warm water. It even went so far that he rented the small granny flat next to my studio for her. Since Nadine, for whatever reason, didn't want to move in, he then used the flat for himself during the week and apparently also pursued his business there, while continuing to spend the weekends in Cologne.
You do realize that you are guilty of promoting prostitution, don't you? I really found the gelled guy repulsive!
The public prosecutor answered instead of me. My colleague! What a tenant does in his rooms is not the landlord's business. Even if Mr. Kleeve should have known that the victim was engaging in prostitution there, there is no 180a StGB is present, at most a violation of a possible restricted zone ordinance. It would therefore be at most a misdemeanor and that is statute-barred!?
But then we would have possible tax evasion!? The sideburns grinned at me nastily. Did you also declare the rental income?
I don't see what Mr. Kleeve's tax return has to do with the death of Enrico Jublinski, colleague!” The portly prosecutor was getting worked up. ”Are you trying to say that the witness Kleeve would have hired a killer because of a few incorrect statements in his tax return? He himself was out of the country, after all!
I'm just saying that... The addressed person backtracked.
The representative of the prosecution glared angrily in the direction of the defense. Stick to the facts, colleague! Only facts count, not opinions!
Didn't you try to keep Mr. Jublinski in Düsseldorf entirely? The judge again!
I looked at the lady. I even talked with the tongues of angels, but unfortunately without success! I tried to persuade him to go to night school to at least get his secondary school certificate, but no chance! He didn't want to have anything to do with the authorities, nor did he want to register because he was afraid that any arrest warrants that might still be out against him would be executed. I took a sip. He was supposed to register as unemployed in order to get health insurance, but he didn't even want Hartz IV. He also rejected out of hand the photography apprenticeship I offered him: he could earn more money as a hustler than as an apprentice, and he had to take care of Nadine and their offspring.
Was he the father? The question came from the public prosecutor.
I have no idea about childbearing, but... I grinned at him. I don't believe in premature babies, unless the fetus is already almost seven pounds and over 50 centimeters big at six months' gestation. That was the data that Enrico had given me after the boy was born.
The woman in the judge's robe grinned. “Seven pounds? That was quite a bundle of joy, believe me!”
“Immediately and unconditionally?” I laughed at her. “Enrico was really enthusiastic, really excited, but then came the big disillusionment for him: Nadine gave the child up for adoption after one month. What can I say? Enrico let her down and fell into a big hole himself.
And how did he get out of it? The gold-rimmed glasses were back on his nose.
I shrugged. Only with great difficulty, I tried to distract him: first we spent a week in Malta, then we resumed work on the illustrated book. He was on fire at first, almost back to his old self, the Enrico that you couldn't help but love. But once the book was finished and went to press, he became erratic again and lost interest in everything. The actual book presentation went well, but the promotional tour? I had to beg and plead to get him to even move his ass and come with me.
What was the promotional tour like? The three-day stubble was curious.
The book launch was in mid-December, then in January we spent a weekend in Hamburg and Berlin, and a second weekend in Munich and Stuttgart. In February it was Frankfurt, Cologne and Dortmund. He canceled all the dates in March, and only came with me to the vernissage in Essen in April, over Easter. But by that time, I emptied the glass.?? he was anything but a reliable contemporary. I think it was on the drive to Dortmund that he told me he had met a certain Ben someone or other in Cologne who would really lavish praise on him.?
The head judge looked up from his glasses. ?Did he describe this Ben in more detail??
Unfortunately not!” I shook my head. ”The only thing I know about him is that he owns a few shops in the Ruhr area and has a share in a few bars in Berlin and Munich. The whole thing seemed a bit fishy to me, but Enrico was convinced that he'd hit the jackpot with this guy.”
And then? The gold-rimmed glasses were once again misused as a visual aid.
My expression turned sad. I didn't see him again after Essen. We spoke on the phone a few more times, but all of our conversations revolved around this ominous Ben, who completely monopolized him. The last thing I heard from him was a message on my answering machine: He wouldn't be able to make it to my 40th birthday because Ben wanted to take him to Rome.
And that was the last sign of life from him? The voice of the only fully qualified lawyer in the college sounded congested. How did you react?
I took a deep breath. I was angry, but what could I do? Enrico had always had a mind of his own, you couldn't tie him down. Mind you, he was more reliable before Ben. But to answer the first part of your question, that wasn't the last message from him.
How? Chief Silverlocke's eyes grew wide.
I reached into my inside pocket again and took out three letters, which I placed on the table. “He wrote to me again, but could I answer?” Unfortunately, I couldn't reply to them! I didn't know how I could have reached him, unfortunately I didn't have an address!
“The victim wrote to them?” The prosecutor's voice was almost frantic.
I nodded. “Yes, he did. Would you like to see the letters?”
“Gladly!” That was all he said.
The gelled-up lawyer jumped up. “I protest in the strongest possible terms! The witness could have written the letters himself.”
“Mr. Defense Attorney, I would like to remind you that the witness was summoned at your request. If he provides new evidence, we will take it into account.” The prosecutor seemed to be bursting at the seams. ‘If necessary, an expert can clarify who actually wrote the letters.’ He looked at me intensely. ”Mr. Kleeve, would you please hand the letters over to the court?”
I took the envelopes, stood up and brought them to the bench. After a benevolent nod from the presiding judge, I returned to my original seat. Silver Locks had probably already glanced at the first letter, cleared his throat. “Then the letters will now be examined by reading them out.”
Mr. President, I hereby request the following evidence: The letters presented by the witness Kleeve are to be examined by a handwriting expert for their authenticity.” The defense attorney was still standing. “The authorship by the victim is disputed. Furthermore, as long as we have no knowledge of the content, the reading out could violate my client's most personal sphere of life.”
The somewhat port prosecutor had also stood up and just waved him off curtly. ”Colleague! If the victim writes a letter to the witness, how is the privacy of your client affected? Mr. Kleeve presents us with letters that are explicitly addressed to him and he agrees to their being read, so what is the problem? I didn't know that letters from the victim existed, but since they are now present, they are present evidence. Should I submit the motion in writing?
The three professional judges briefly put their heads together and whispered to each other. The chief judge sat up, looked past me at the witness stand. “Mr. Jublinski, could you take a look at the letters and tell us if this is your brother's handwriting?”
The man addressed stood up, went to the judge's table, and took a look at the pages handed to him. “Yes, that's my brother's handwriting, I'm sure of it.” He fumbled with his jacket and also took out an envelope. “Here, this is the last letter from him, for my 17th birthday; I always have it with me. You are welcome to compare!”
Thank you. The silver-haired man seemed almost shy as he accepted the memento.
His sideburns were now back in place. Mr. Chairman! What about my motion to introduce evidence?
One: The court withdraws for deliberation on the motions for evidence by the defense and the prosecution. Two: The main proceedings are suspended for 20 minutes. He now looked at me. Mr. Kleeve, you are not dismissed yet! I'll see you in a moment!
I didn't know what was happening to me. If you think so.
The judges left the courtroom through a door behind them, almost all those present rose, and I followed suit. At the exit, someone tapped me on the shoulder, I turned around, it was the second edition of Enrico. May I speak to you briefly?
“But of course, I'd just like a cigarette...” Why was I so inhibited?
My counterpart laughed. ‘Me too!”
Together we left the building, I didn't feel like looking for a smoking room first. As we stood in the cold, we had provided each other with fire, we smiled at each other. ’So you're Enrico's brother?”
That's me!“ The young man grinned. ‘And you were his lover?”
I inhaled deeply. ’I would have liked to have been, but Enrico never let anyone get close enough to achieve that status. There was always a certain distance between us.”
“Even during sex?” The bespectacled guy was really cheeky!
I couldn't help but grin. “When it came to the interpersonal game, your brother knew no bounds. It was wild, if you can say that about someone. But when it came to the interpersonal realm, whenever things got private and intimate, your brother was very good at putting up barriers. In bed, he was the biggest pig, but in conversation, he was the most chaste nun!”
The young man seemed slightly embarrassed. “I wouldn't have thought that about you. It's the other way around with me.”
I was amazed. ‘What do you mean?”
“The way I said it: I like to open up in conversations, I have a big mouth, but in bed? I'm rather simple.’ He chuckled. ”I just don't have that much experience.”
I waved it aside. “You gain experience over time, but in my opinion, in the interpersonal area, it depends more on the basic attitude: are you able to approach your partner openly and honestly, without ulterior motives?”
“And Enrico couldn't do that?” He looked at me in wonder.
I shook my head. “No, but that was probably due to his life story, to the experiences he has had. How do you think he behaved when things got personal? You could talk to him about politics for hours and hours and with growing enthusiasm! But woe betide you if you talked about family! I've heard more than one version of his story from him. It was only when I put a gun to his head that he became more explicit, but that... I looked deep into his eyes. But that was also a lie, as I found out today through you. I don't even blame him for telling me a white lie, Enrico was like that, but I'm somehow also disappointed.
That he didn't show you the same trust that you showed him? Is that what you mean? He rubbed his nose.
I nodded. Right. The basis of every relationship, whether between man and man or man and woman or woman and woman, is, in my experience, absolute openness and honesty towards your partner: that's the be-all and end-all of a good relationship.
It's striking! But I think we should slowly go back inside. He grinned at me.
I looked at the clock with horror. You're right, we still have about five minutes before we have to be back in the hall.
Then let's go. He stubbed out his cigarette on the pavement. But first I have to apologize, I was once again too forward!?
I rubbed my eyes in amazement. Sorry, but I don't quite follow you! What do you mean?
I've been on first-name terms with you the whole time, even though you didn't offer me the same! Embarrassment spread across his face, and he shifted his weight from one leg to the other.
I could only shake my head. “Justin, what's the problem? If only Enrico had been a bit more open, I'm sure we would have become a couple. So we would have been like family, so the informal ‘you’ is more than appropriate. Don't you think?
But you do!? He smiled. But we should seal the deal, just between us, shouldn't we?
And how? I looked at him curiously. Unfortunately, I don't have any beer for a toast!
He took a step towards me, pursed his lips and kissed me on the mouth. It took me a moment to fully grasp the situation, but then I opened my lips, put my left hand on the back of his head, and slowly pulled him towards me. His tongue conquered my mouth, but my counterattack was also successful.
When we finally broke away, he laughed at me. “Three more minutes! Come on, dear brother-in-law!
After you, dear brother-in-law!” I just thought he was sweet.
When we entered the courtroom, most of the spectators were already sitting in their places, the defendant, together with his defense team and guard, was also present again, the prosecutor was also sitting in his place, only the high court was still absent. It took a while, but then the door opened and the high court entered at a stately pace. Everyone rose until the highest-ranking robe-wearer cleared his throat. “The hearing against Benedikt Hartenberg for manslaughter will now continue. Please take your seats.” Everyone in the room sat down, and I sat down in the witness chair.
“After deliberation, the court has decided to take a closer look at the letters presented by the witness Kleeve. The court assumes the authenticity of the letters, after confirmation by the witness Justin Jublinski and the presented sample of the victim's handwriting. The defense's motion to dismiss is therefore rejected, as it also smacks of a possible delay in the proceedings. However, the public prosecutor's application was to be granted, since the taking of evidence is not inadmissible; I refer to Section 245, paragraph 2 of the German Code of Criminal Procedure. He looked around. “May I begin then?” I looked ahead; the letter had been wrapped in a transparent film in the meantime, and he adjusted his glasses. “Mr. Kleeve, is JFK your nickname?”
I nodded dutifully. “It's not just what friends and people in the scene call me, it's also my trademark as a photographer.”
“Well, let's get started!” He cleared his throat again and began his lecture. ”Cologne, May 2nd, 2007. Hi JFK, I know I'm an asshole, I'm really sorry that I've been so scarce lately, but I had to think about some things in my life. Düsseldorf is no longer for me, too many thoughts of Nadine and the kid that the slut just gave away. But I don't want to annoy you with the bitch, you always had your problems with her. But you were right with your skepticism, I was probably too naive.
Ben offered me a job in one of his shops last week, so I'll be a bartender in one of his businesses. He said I could live with him too. I think I'll take him up on that offer, I finally want to get off the streets. Feel hugged and cuddled? Yours, Enrico? PS: My new cell phone number is?
He looked around, put the paper aside and took the next transparent folder in his hand. Cologne, May 15, 2007. Hi JFK, thanks for your text message. How was Dubai? At least everything seems to be going well for you, but it's not looking so good for me. Ben got me a new passport, my name is now David Husselmann, but suddenly he wants to double the price for it, that ass! The promised bartender job didn't materialize either, I have to spread my legs for him, so back to hustling! Why did I leave you for him? I'm an idiot!
The ass also demands 500 rent per week for the room, so I now owe him almost 7,000 euros! Why do I always end up with the wrong people? He took my cell phone, I feel like I'm in jail. He wants to take me to Munich tomorrow to offer my ass there, I would be fresh meat. Feel hugs and kisses anyway! Your Enrico.
Almost mechanically, he reached for the last letter. Somewhere on the highway, dated 06/15/2007. Hi JFK, believe it or not: this asshole actually has a mobile brothel with all the comforts, disguised as a normal caravan. Ben is driving and I'm sitting in the back writing to you.
I finally have something positive to report: I had a regular client in Munich, a rich Arab who wants to buy me out! Ben seems to be okay with it, because ever since Ibrahim (that's the Arab's name) made the suggestion, I've been nothing but his private sex slave. But I've had worse: his three inches (that's all he's got in his pants!) don't hurt, even if he's got a long way to go. What is worse is that he always starts by beating me with his belt or whip to get him up at all.
We are on our way to his weekend house in the mountains. I am supposed to serve him and his friends there as a sex object for the whole weekend. Ben called it my last official act. No matter! Monday the nightmare will finally be over and then I will finally go to freedom with Ibrahim. I'll get back to you about my things that are still in the granny flat at your place. Love, Your Enrico? PS: I only have a 40 cent stamp left, I hope you'll forgive the postage due! E.?
The defendant banged his hand on the table. “I don't believe it! The little cocksucker has written letters! I was looking for a second cell phone, but letters??
Was that the beginning of a confession?? The judge's question was cool and sober.
The insurance man jumped up. “Fuck you!”
“The following decision has been made: The defendant is ordered to pay a fine of 1,000 euros or four days in custody for improper behavior. Mr. Hartenberg, you are not allowed to insult witnesses or the court here! Is that clear?”
Instead of answering, the insurance man reached for the glass in front of him and threw it in the direction of the bench. The two officers only reacted when it crashed to the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces. Silverlock remained surprisingly calm.
Another order was then issued: the defendant Hartenberg was to be fined another 2,000 euros or imprisoned for eight days, and the defendant was to be handcuffed. Gentlemen, handcuff him! The uniformed officers complied. “Mr. Hartenberg, one more such outburst and we will continue in your absence.” He made a few notes. “Are there any motions or statements regarding the letters? Mr. Prosecutor? Mr. Defense Attorney??
There was absolute silence. The two benches whispered intensely, but the deliberations at the public prosecutor's table were faster. Based on the new evidence, it is now probably no longer manslaughter, but rather murder. Regarding this qualification, in the opinion of the public prosecutor, a reference to § 265 paragraph 2 StPO is sufficient. The prosecutor cleared his throat. In addition, there are now charges of forgery, dangerous bodily harm, possibly even grievous bodily harm, as well as exploitation of prostitutes and pimping. One could already include part of? 266 StPO [supplementary charge] in the proceedings today, but I don't think the defendant would agree to that. I also see a need for further investigation with regard to? 180a [exploitation of prostitutes], 181a [pimping], 267 [document forgery]. So I guess we'll all be seeing each other again soon.
The man with the gold-rimmed glasses looked at the dock. What does the defense say?
This time it was the lady who raised her voice. We would not have agreed to a supplementary charge, of course, but we request the suspension of the proceedings according to §265, paragraph 3.
Silberlocke raised his eyebrows and looked to the other side. The prosecutor had apparently been expecting it, as his answer came promptly. “Ms. colleague! What are you doing? You're throwing one smoke screen after another at this trial! First it was a hustler who got rid of an unwelcome rival, then it was a john who killed the victim in a sex frenzy and whom your client only helped to dispose of the body. Today, the witness Kleeve is supposed to serve as a jealous killer, but this attempt also went badly awry.”
He poured some water from the carafe in front of him into his glass and took a sip. “What you are trying to do here is obvious; you just want to drag out the trial unnecessarily. The DNA traces of your client found on the victim, the gas station receipt found in the victim's pants that was paid for with your client's credit card, the bloodstains in the trunk of your client's car, which only he and no one else drove, all clearly show that only your client could be the perpetrator.”