Date: Mon, 07 Sep 1998 12:16:11 +0000
From: Andrej Koymasky <andrejkoymasky@geocities.com>
Subject: Akim-Akim-09

NINETH
 
 The day after they were back, Piero called Carla at her home, hoping to
find her there. She didn't answer. He continued calling, until finally,
there was an answer.
 
 "Oh, hello, Piero! Everything OK?"
 
 "Yes..." he said hesitantly, "but I would like to see you soon. I have to
talk with you."
 
 "Sure," she said eagerly. "Tonight? I too have a lot of things to tell
you. I've had a very wonderful holiday. And yours?"
 
 "I too did. See you soon, then."
 
 They met that evening. Piero went to Carla's house. There was just she and
the baby, because Beppe had to go to Naples for his work. So, after they
had dinner and chatted of this and that, Piero decided to face the subject
he had in his heart:
 
 "Carla... I believe I'm in love."
 
 "Great!" was his friend's cheerful comment.
 
 "But... I promised you that you meet him, but... I don't know if..."
 
 "Who's he? Tell me about him..."
 
 "It's difficult... I don't know where to start..."
 
 "He is... Akim, right?" Carla asked him, gently.
 
 Piero looked at her, stupefied, but nodded yes. Then he asked her: "How
could you guess?"
 
 "It wasn't difficult. The last day I gave lessons to Akim, I gave him the
address of the teacher that was going to teach him in our absence.  I told
him that our colleague was expecting him at his place the following morning
at ten o'clock. He gave me back the note, without even looking at it, and
said: "No, professor. I won't go to that one's place. I want to go to
professor Gribaudo's place. Give me his address, please." I told him no,
that he had to do what had been decided. But he was stubborn, and told me
that if he wasn't going to study with you, he would abandon his studies. At
first, I didn't believe him, so I just retorted: 'So much the worse for
you! And he insisted, and I too... until I had the impression Akim was on
the edge of tears. To be honest, this troubled me, but anyway, it was not
enough to make me change my mind.  Again, I refused to give him your
address and repeated that, if he did stop his studies, it was just the
worst for him. I couldn't help any more.

 Then, Akim, looking straight into my eyes as he does when he is very
sincere, said to me: 'But I, Professor Testa, I'm in love with Professor
Gribaudo. It is only for him that I'm studying. Not for the other people.'
I said: 'In love? We don't say that in Italian for two people of the same
sex. We say I like him, or something similar.' But he, never lowering his
eyes, told me: 'I'm really in love with him!  I know what I want, because
for years I have liked men and have only had sex with men and I enjoy
that. And I've been in love with the professor, for many months.' So I
said: 'All right, I see that you are in love. But to your teacher you
cannot be anything but a pupil. And, if you make him understand your love,
he will have to refuse it. He will have to send you away, don't you
understand that?' And he replied: 'Yes, I know that very well. But I'll
never tell him of my love, I'll never made him aware of it because I don't
want to make him feel ill at ease. It will be enough for me to be near him,
to be able to look at him and to study. To study for him. In all these
months nobody has noticed my love for him; but my heart. And I miss him so
very badly.' So I, in a last attempt to dissuade him, said: 'But what would
your father say? And what about the money for the trip, and money to live
on while you are there? Do you not see that it is impossible?' But he gave
me an answer that... well, almost upset me.

 'My father,' he said very seriously, 'my father understands everything
about me, he always knew everything, even about my previous lovers. And he
said that he will give me some money for the journey, even if it is a big
sacrifice for him.' 'He knows everything? And he says nothing?' I ask him,
unbelieving.  Akim said: 'My father, when I was a boy, tried to explain me
that he would have preferred if I desired girls, but then he accepted it,
when he understood that I'm not that way. He understands those are things
that happen and that one cannot choose, decide. So, this time, he advised
me to be very prudent, not to bother the professor, who is so good with me,
with my feelings. He told me to be careful not to let the professor
understand that I'm in love with him. But that, if I had decided so, he
will help me as he can, and so he gave me some money...'

 At that point I made my final argument, I told him my last objection: 'Do
you realize that if it becomes known that you are in love with the
professor and that you are with him, he could be in serious trouble? He can
be accused of corruption of minors and he will lose his job?' Akim, always
serious as usual, said: 'I know that, Professor Testa. But there is no
danger, nobody will ever know.' So I said: 'Nobody? You told your father,
you told me... It isn't that already too many?' And Akim said: "But would
you betray your friend?' 'No, surely not!' I said. And he said: 'And my
father will never betray me or the professor who is doing so much for
me. You see that there is no problem? Give me Professor Gribaudo's address,
please!' So, at last, I gave him your address.

Because, Piero, honestly, I realized a long time ago that to you Akim was
lot more than a simple student. I have known for some time that you were
falling in love with him, and I thought that, who knows, possibly, you were
made for each other, after all. Akim is a splendid boy, a mature young
man. And you are a splendid person... And it seems to me, now, that I
didn't make a mistake, right?"
 
 Piero had listened to the long explanation, absorbed it. "You realized
that I was falling in love? But I just realized it in those last few days!"
he retorted at the end.
 
 "Well, I've known you quite a while. And you didn't realize it before
because of your conscience, it was unthinkable, your principles kept you
far away from your student, demanded to you not even consider him as to a
possible partner."
 
 "But now... Now can not the others also perceive that we are in love?
don't you think so?"
 
 "No way! You are both adults, no longer kids. It will be enough if you are
both prudent."
 
 "But Akim is a minor..."
 
 "For our laws, that is true. But only for a little more than a year, and
it will pass very fast. There is no way that he is going to report you to
the police; not his father, nor I, so... Akim did not just take a fancy to
you, he is in love with you. This is not the classic romantic crush of a
student for his or her teacher, but an adult love, able to accept
sacrifice. A love, which asks for nothing and gives everything, cannot be
dangerous. Akim needs you... and I believe you need him."
 
 "Yes, I think you're right. And I know that I'm terribly in love with him,
in love as I never have been before. Even if I haven't told him, in so many
words, of my love for him.  But, I think I will tell him tomorrow, when he
comes to study at my place... and to be near me."
 
 Carla smiled and nodded: "Piero, I love you and I wish you a world of
happiness. To you both."
 
 "Thank you Carla. Talking with you has helped me a lot."
 
 Piero went back home serene. Sure, there would be problems, but now his
life was really smiling on him.
 
 Akim repeated his two exams and passed both, with a six in science and a
seven in classical Greek. And when the final marks were posted, all the
teachers were unanimous in saying that that boy had done "miracles" and
that he was worth helping with his studies.
 
 "If he continues as he has been doing, " the professor of Greek affirmed,
"he will become one of our best students and will surpass many of the
others. He is something else from a wanna buy!"
 
 Piero was overjoyed, even if he didn't show it.
 
 Madam Cerulli was instead radiant with joy: "And if the boy asks
questions, you can now see that it is worthwhile to give him some of your
time?" she said throwing her anonymous taunt.
 
 The new school year started and Akim, during his lessons, was never a
problem. He behaved as usual (apart from the fact that now he was a little
brighter and lively with his class mates) and behaved with Piero as any
other student behaved with his teacher. And even Piero realized that it was
not difficult for him to treat Akim like any of the other students, when
they were in school.
 
 Akim continued to come to his home to study, even though he seldom needed
help any longer. At times, although not very often, he also stopped by to
sleep with Piero, but in the morning he always left early and arrived at
the school alone, making a detour so that he did arrive from his usual
direction.
 
 Piero met Akim father at the teachers - parents meeting and felt a little
nervous. But the man behaved as always, as if he did know anything at all,
without the slightest hint. This pleased Piero; but on the other hand,
increased his embarrassment. So he decided to ask Akim's father for a
private meeting. They met on a Sunday morning in Carlo Felice
Square. Walking, they talked.
 
 "Mister Fawzi, I'm sure that you know the true relationship between your
son and myself..."
 
 "Yes, mister professor. My son says always all to his father. He is a good
son."
 
 "Sure. And you... what do you think about that? Sincerely?"
 
 The man looked straight in Piero's eyes: "I had more preferred that my son
love... a woman. But God decided different and then, if man it has to be,
I'm happy that is mister professor. Because is a man honest, good,
intelligent. I know that my son is in very good hands and that suffices to
me. Yes. I can just be a grateful father to mister professor for the good
he does and he gives to my son. And I see Akim now happy and also this
thing is thank to mister professor. And then I pray that God helps all you
two."
 
 The man finished his statement and then held out his hand and they shook
hands vigorously, almost as to seal an agreement, an alliance. Then, when
the man was about to leave, said to the teacher:
 
 "Excuse me, professor?"
 
 "Yes?"
 
 "If the son is not good, now that he is yours, you can beat, you have
right."
 
 "I don't really think I will need to do that... Did you ever need to beat
him, up to now?"
 
 "No, never. But this is sentence that is to be said. I have no more right
on son, professor has. This is sentence in our land we say... that in our
place says father, when gives his daughter..."
 
 Piero smiled, and understood, this was a ritual sanction very close to
that of marriage. Therefore he nodded. And again they shook hands.
 
 In fact, Akim, after the meeting of Piero with his father, told him:
 
 "My father has entrusted me to you. Now everything is settled, everything
is in order. Now I really belong to you."
 
 "Yes, Akim, but I also belong to you. Here in Italy we also have a
custom. A relationship must be always between peers, or at least it should
be."
 
 The boy smiled and answered: "Yes, I know that now you too belong to
me. You are the most precious thing in my life, or rather, you are more
precious than my life."
 
 "Akim... I haven't yet told you that I love you..."
 
 "Yes, you've told me, in everyway except saying it. You've told with
everything that is yourself. And I too love you. That's why we are happy. A
man happiness is love, isn't it so?"
 
 "My happiness is you, Akim. I love you." Piero told him, very moved.
 
 Akim ended his third year and passed with an average grade of seven on a
scale of ten, so he also received a scholarship. Piero suggested to Akim
that he should give the scholarship money to his father in order to help
him pay his other sons studies.
 
 "Anyway, I can provide everything for you." Piero said.
 
 Akim accepted, with simplicity, as with simplicity he accepted the clothes
Piero bought him, and the books and other things. He was a neat boy,
meticulous, a lover of cleanliness. He loved, most of all being able to
shower every day, and he loved to do that with Piero. And now Piero's
little flat was shiningly tidy.
 
 When Akim started his fourth year at school, Piero wanted to give him the
apartment keys.
 
 "But what would your neighbors say, seeing a 'moroccan' having your house
keys?" Akim objected.
 
 "Well, what about it," Piero answered, "you could be mistaken for a
Sicilian, especially now that your Italian is almost perfect even with the
accent. And then... who cares about neighbors?!"
 
 "No, Piero. Wait until I'm an adult. It will be your present for my
eighteenth birthday."
 
 "Just two more months..."
 
 "I know, you want me to feel at home. But to me, wherever you are, it will
be my home. I don't need the keys."
 
 "It is like... a symbol."
 
 "Yes, I understand. That's why, if you want to, you'll give them to me in
two months. It will be like telling me: here, you now are a man."
 
 "But you're already a man. My man."
 
 "Man or boy, who cares, until then, I'm yours!" Akim concluded with a
sweet smile.
 
 And November eight came and they celebrated Akim coming of age. Carla
offered them a lunch at the Cambio. Then they gave Akim their
presents. Carla gave him a pocket electronic notebook. Piero gave him a
formal suit and a small box with the house keys. Akim was moved.
 
 They celebrated again that same night, in Piero's bed, until it was dawn,
in fact the ninth was a Saturday and neither one had any classes.
 
 Days were passing by very rapidly, and the two were more and more in love
with each other. Piero recalled Gianni and Luca. Both relationship, after
all, even if they had failed, had prepared him for his relationship with
Akim, and so had been precious. Then recalled his dream... and just in that
moment he heard the key turning in the key hole. He stood up and went into
the corridor.

----------

 The boy was there, standing in front of him, and he smiled, silent.
 
 Now he knew his name, and he knew that he was there for him. Each time it
was like if it was the first time he saw him; but now really they knew each
other since ever, they knew that they had been created for each other. The
boy wore a wide shirt and soft trousers hiding his shapes, and yet he knew,
that they hide a perfect body, of a yet ripe virility, ready to be
picked. And he he would again taste the fruit, he would be the only one
having the right to savour it. And he would so enter with the boy in an
always new world, in always new and marvellous pleasures, that would do of
them real men.
 
 He slowly lifted his hands toward the boy, looking upon his beauty. A
perfect face, framed by thick black hair, soft and curly. He looked at his
black eyes bright like stars, deep like wells and saw a rainbow of emotions
pass in those eyes: waiting, desire, complete willingness to give himself.
 
 His hands reached the boy and the boy quivered and his own quivers
responded in him, wrapping him like a warm and sweet wave. Quietly, his
feverish fingers started to unbutton the boy's shirt and all the universe
seemed to hold his breath. Together, they both, in an absolute and
deafening silence, waited for the miracle to be accomplished. Now, just
those two black deep eyes existed that seemed to attract him like
magnets. His fingertips lightly brushed the fresh skin of the boy and that
made him vibrate like harp strings. The shudder reverberated in the boy's
body like in a sound box and the sun shone more bright and warm.
 
 He heard his voice murmur to the boy, warm and sensual:
 
 "Come... nobody will disturb us, come love..."
 
 And no threatening door bell rang this time. Nothing clouded their love
meeting this time, like all the previous ones.  They knew all their
meetings would like this, forever.