Date: Tue, 3 Nov 2015 16:32:41 +0000 (UTC)
From: Les Goldsmith <follies71@att.net>
Subject: Ritch Christopher--Echoes From a Wishing Well  Ch 18   11-2-15

				  A story

				    by

			     Ritch Christopher

			  Continued by Les Martin

		     <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

				Chapter 18

		       <><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

It was now Saturday morning.  Mr. Marcano had passed away on Thursday and
had already been cremated. Daddy Art had picked up the simple container
holding his ashes. He'd done this knowing that the very act would have been
an emotional blow of the worst sort to his widow if she'd been forced to do
it herself..

The packing, if that's what it should be called, was finished and suitcases
sat by the front door. At 1 PM, Air France would take the woman and her son
away forever from Trent unless something could be found, a way out, a
solution. Art had been racking his brain, trying to find an answer, but to
no avail.  With no way to support herself and her son in this country, she
had to return to her birthplace and her family in France.

Living in New York was, she had been forced to understand, was an expensive
affair.  For the first time, she appreciated what her late husband had done
through all their married life, working tirelessly, selflessly, to be able
to afford their life together in New York, a fabled city that had fulfilled
her dreams.

But now, in her effort to re-establish herself financially, she needed her
son with her to add to whatever meager income she could eke out.

Angio knew this consciously, but still was praying for something--
anything--that would allow a sudden reversal of fate.  Until recently, a
career as an actor had been the sole focus of his life.  Then he had met
Trent.  Now, for the first time, he recognized how fundamental a
relationship was to a human being.

Leaving Trent would be like leaving his life---and there was nothing he
could do to change what was about to happen.

On his part, having been raised far from the city and its complex workings,
Trent felt that he was of no help at all.  Though he had become relatively
accustomed to flying to and from Tennessee, he knew that Paris was a world
away, both in time and in distance.  He felt the terror that was attacking
Angio----he felt the same thing in his own heart.

Mrs. Marcano had prepared a breakfast for her son and his love, but neither
could even think of food. Just a glance between them and tears started to
fall.

Realizing that nothing would be eaten, and understanding why, Mrs Marcano
cleared the table and washed the dishes. Then she placed them carefully in
the cabinets.  Everything had to be just right. But why? Why bother?  She'd
never know the next occupants of this place, a place that had been the
physical center of her life---a place she'd never see again. And after they
left, the superintendent would clear everything out, putting her life in
the trash to be picked up and carted away.

Trent had called Daddy Art early this morning, asking that he put a few
things in a bag for Trent, since he was still at Angio's and would be
traveling to the airport with Angio and his mother without returning first
to his own apartment. He said simply that he didn't want to have to leave
Angio's side any sooner that he absolutely had to.

Art told him that he had already arranged for car to pick him up before
picking up Angio and Trent with Angio's mother.

It had been a particularly painful morning.  Trent and Angio had been
unable to keep their eyes off each other, but every time their eyes met,
the hurt worsened.

All the bags and boxes were stacked just inside the front door, boxes
containing what was left of two lives and holding only the memory and the
physical remains of a third.. The travelers were taking only the minimum
amount of baggage with them on the flight. All the rest, a pitifully small
amount to show for a life, was to be picked up by a freight company that
would ship it to Paris.

Their flight plans took them first to Italy where the Marcano family would
meet them. Their Italian stay would be mercifully short, merely dinner with
the family that evening and then an early morning funeral mass for
Mr. Marcano, to be followed by interment with his family at the cemetery.

The most painful part of the day was too quickly approaching for Angio and
Trent.  They both knew that, when Angio's flight was called and boarding
began, their dreaded separation would become a reality.

Finally, and all too soon, the sound of the doorbell announced the arrival
of Art and the town car.

Opening the door, Angio saw Art standing in the hallway and he broke into
tears again.  Art quietly stepped forward and took Angio in his arms,
comforting him silently as best he could.  Looking up, Art saw Trent
leaning on the sofa, trying to hold himself together.

Extending an arm toward Trent, Art gathered the two boys, now suddenly
become young men exposed to the pain of the world, into arms that wanted to
shield them forever but he knew that couldn't be.

Giving Angio a private moment to regain his control, Art asked Trent if
Mrs. Marcano was ready.

Nodding but not saying a word, Trent moved away from Art and walked to the
bedroom door to let Angio's mother know that Art had arrived with their
transportation.

Opening the door gently, he found the widow seated on the edge of the bed
which had been the center of a happy life but had seen the end of it also.

She looked up at Trent and her eyes said she was ready...as ready as she
could ever be.  Her make-up was perfectly done, but it couldn't totally
conceal the ashen pallor under it, her face already paled by the happenings
of the past days.

She rose with all the dignity she could muster and Trent was struck by the
realization that Angio's mother was still a beautiful woman, dignified,
even broken as she now was.  She moved to Trent's side and together they
walked out of a part of her life, to move toward another life, a life as
yet unknown in its dimensions or depth.

Taking Art's hand, she greeted him formally, but then almost broke again
before straightening up and thanking Art again for his generosity and
assistance these past few hours.

The driver, having been instructed as to which bags should go, had loaded
them into the trunk of the towncar and was silently waiting for his
passengers to make their final preparations.

Mrs. Marcano walked from room to room, checking to see if anything of
importance had been left.  She seem to pause for just a moment as she left
each room.  Saying goodbye?  Re-living memories?

Returning to the living room, she picked up her coat which Art quickly took
from her and helped her into it.

Trent and Angio were waiting quietly, not speaking a word.  Then, without
so much as a final glance around, the widow moved to the door, stopped for
a brief second, and then, lifting her head, left the apartment.

Trent and Angio followed wordlessly, and Art brought up the rear after
closing the door silently.

They settled themselves in the car which then pulled away, heading for the
airport, Mrs. Marcano and Art in the rear seat with Angio and Trent facing
them in the jump-seats.

Angio's eyes were filled with tears which he tried to hold back from
falling.  His hand gripped Trent's as though he hoped that constant contact
would, somehow, prevent what both knew was inevitable.  As strong as their
love for each other was, they were still to be separated by reality, that
harshest of teachers.

They looked at each other wordlessly.  No words could possibly convey all
they were feeling, the pain that was overwhelming them.  Art and Mrs.
Marcano talked to each other, their voices so low that they didn't disturb
the concentration of the boys.

Only too soon, they had arrived at the airport where, after checking in,
they walked to the gate to await boarding for the flight to Paris.  Trent
tried to will the clocks to stop moving, for time to stand still so that he
could stay with Angio forever, but time won out as it always did.

When boarding was announced for the flight, Angio turned to Trent.  Looking
into his eyes deeply, Angio whispered, "Trent, I know we have to accept
this, that there's nothing we can do about it---for now, at least, but I'll
keep thinking of you and working to come back to you. You have to take care
of Granny Dee and, please, tell her for me that I hope she'll always be my
granny too."

His voice showing the depth of his sorrow, Trent replied, "I'd almost
forgotten about Granny Dee, I've been so torn by what's happening to us,
Ange. I'll give her a thousand kisses for you, but, Ange,' he started to
say, but Angio interrupted him.

"Trent, I'm gonna ask you to do something for me and please do it. OK?"

"Anything, Ange, you know I will.  What is it?"

"I don't think I can keep it together much longer and I don't want your
last sight of me to be one of a crying lover.  Please, for me, just kiss me
and turn and walk away.  Don't look back.  Just know that I love you and I
always will.  Will you do that for me?"

"But, Ange, no!  Another minute? Please?  I can't bear to lose any time
with you."

"Trent, you said you'd do what I asked.  Please."

Placing his hands on Angio's shoulders, Trent pressed himself against his
lover's body, then wrapped his arms around Angio.  Then, turning his head,
he kissed Angio softly.  Only Angio could hear Trent say, "Te adoro,
Angio."

With that, Trent turned and walked from the area, not looking back. Forcing
their way to the front of Trent's mind, the words thundered, 'Is this what
it's like to die? Can anything hurt this much?' His steps took him from
Angio's sight.

Art said something to Mrs. Marcano, shook her hand briefly, and the turned
to Angio. "Angio, I'll keep working here to get you back to Trent. You know
that I will. In the meantime, take care of your mother, OK?"  He hugged
Angio and then watched the widow and her son enter the jetway and leave
this country, leave Trent's life.

Wiping away the tears that had filled his eyes, Art followed Trent to the
assigned area to wait with him for the flight to Tennessee.

Thankfully, the next wait was brief enough so that Trent didn't feel forced
to make conversation with Art.

Seated beside Trent,the older man understood the pain Trent was feeling and
respected his silence until he had to board the plane.  Art hugged his son,
saying, "I'll keep trying to find a way, Trent."  The forlorn boy looked up
and his eyes told of his sorrow and his love.

Art stood watching as the aircraft left the runway and told himself that
some solution had to be found for this misfortune.

As Trent's flight climbed out, heading south, Trent felt that his entire
world had just collapsed.  How could he live without Angio?  Angio was
flying east toward Europe and Trent was going to Tennessee to Granny Dee.

Then he was struck by his own thought.  Granny Dee!  He hadn't even thought
of her this morning and she was in a hospital, she was sick and alone.  He
understood now that he hadn't really considered the danger to his beloved
Granny and the guilt that enveloped him threatened to destroy him.  The
woman who had taken him in and raised him as her own child, the woman who
gave him all the selfless love in her heart ---and he had almost forgotten
her this day!

The combination of emotions, the sorrow at losing Angio, paired with fear
and guilt concerning Granny Dee, hit him solidly.  'So is this what growing
up feels like?', he thought.  'It's not much fun.'  He had been told so
often to enjoy his school years, that they were the most carefree times of
his life, and now he understood.

And so Trent entered a new phase of his life, beginning his manhood.

His flight to Knoxville was uneventful, leaving him time to think, to feel,
to probe his thoughts.  He didn't reach a conclusion, other than doing all
in his power to see that Granny Dee was healthy and back to her old self
again.  He hope that Jody and Laurie were showing themselves to be as
helpful and dependable as the phone calls he'd received indicated them to
have been.

On deplaning at his destination, Trent saw Dean waiting for him, smiling.
A big hug and they went toward the car, each hoping he'd find the right
thing to say to the other.  After seating themselves into the spacious
vehicle,Trent asked immediately how Dee was.  Dean was happy to be able to
tell him that Dee would probably be home from the hospital tomorrow, right
as rain.  For the first time in days, some good news! Trent sat a bit
straighter and tried to smile.  His effort was less than completely
successful.  Conversation between them was, initially, stilted and awkward,
but the tension that Trent felt eased a bit after he realized fully that
Granny Dee really was going to be fine.

However, the guilt that had engulfed him earlier remained.  How could he be
so callous as to think only of himself and Angio when his Granny had been
in so much danger?  If anything had happened to her, how could he have
lived with the self-imposed curses?

Mercifully, the drive from Knoxville to Weston was short and they soon
found themselves pulling into the hospital parking lot.  Seeing Cyrus
beside the front door, smoking as usual, Trent jumped out and ran to him,
hugging him and feeling tears almost spilling over again

Entering the lobby, Trent almost ran over Jody who had been waiting for
their arrival. Giving the boy a brief hug, Trent asked Jody to lead him to
Granny's room.

ADDENDUM:

Ritch passed away, but if any of his readers would like to comment, please
contact me at follies71@att.net

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