Date: Thu, 03 Jan 2002 09:00:12 -0500 From: Tom Cup <tom_cup@hotmail.com> Subject: The Innocents by Richard Dean - Part 1 Chapter 2 Gay - A/Y The Innocents by Richard Dean Copyright 2001 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving youth/youth or adult/youth sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ************************************************************************ This story is part of the Tom Cup Library and may be accessed at http://tomcup.iscool.net or at http://www.eroscities.com ************************************************************************ The Innocents By Richard Dean Part 1 Chapter 2 Decisions The days passed quickly. Within a week, I would have to return to work for another two-month absence from this idyllic lifestyle to which I felt complete peace and comfort. Mornings were spent wandering about the neighborhoods of Rio, Ipanema, and across Guanabara Bay to Niteroi, stopping in at various museums, shopping centers, parks, and loving the vistas which swept across the hills with the expanse of the Atlantic ocean and her infinite number of beaches; a welcome mat to those so inclined. Afternoons would be spent at my favorite outdoor cafe for luncheon, sipping on several cervejas (beer) as always served by my favorite waiter, Paulo Oliveira with whom I spent lazy conversations of no import. Paulo, I learned, had graduated from University, but had not found employment in his field of Language Arts. At 25 he took delight in the work he found at this cafe as a waiter. Here he could converse with patrons in German, French, Spanish, English and, of course, Portuguese. Because of his engaging personality, proper manners and style, efficiency of movement, and the ability to remember his patrons by their names and favorite dishes, endeared them to him, as evidenced by the gratuities they awarded him. He admitted to me, that the money he earned at this cafe netted him more than if he were teaching at a language school, so he found much delight and personal satisfaction with this career, temporary at best, until he found his place in life. With Paulo, I could lose my stiff, formal manner and use of Portuguese, and converse as I would with my brother. He would often, late in an evening find himself at my apartment, chatting or watching the television programs of which he could explain to me the nuances of many of the words and terms of usage. There were times when quiet evenings would be spent on my balcony reading, comfortable and content with the ambiance of the rested, in complete satisfaction that all was well with the world. We exchanged our life stories up to the moment. We became friends. He accepted me with all of my faults, as I had done with him. How much simpler life can be when one has a friend with whom no barriers exist. I told him, after he inquired, that I was gay, but seldom acted upon it. He informed me he was bisexual and amusingly said of it: "Look, heterosexuals have 50% of the population from which to choose. Homosexuals have 50% of the population from which to choose. Bisexuals have 100% from which to choose. Are there any better odds than that?" I still smile at those entertaining words of wisdom. As to wisdom, I found that I could have done nothing better than to offer my apartment to Paulo, to share and live with me. I felt assured that my things would be secure, and, also explained to him, that he would then be able to start saving his money for posterity if he so chose to do. He moved in lock, stock, and barrel in a few short days. Although he thought we could have a sexual relationship, I felt that it more important to separate our sexual alliances and keep the friendship alive and fresh. When he went to work, I lazed. I would show up in the afternoon at the cafe for my usual few hours of respite and relaxation, to take my luncheon, and people watch. Several days before I was to return to work, I was at the cafe when Paulo exclaimed, "Well, see who has showed up!" I glanced up from my jottings in my journal, and espied the redoubtable young Antonio bearing a bouquet of flowers in his grubby hands. He walked up to the table and shyly said, "These are for you, Senhor Ricardo." I took the bouquet from him and asked Paulo, "Would you put these in water for me, please." Nodding in agreement Paulo took the bouquet from my hands and scurried off to tend to my request. "Thank you so very much, Toninho. A pleasant gesture, indeed. Won't you sit down? Would you care for something to eat?" "Yes Sir, but I will excuse myself and wash up first, yes?" "That's acceptable to me, Toninho," I said nodding. He scurried into the interior of the building, when Paulo returned, looking over his shoulder at the departing lad. He placed the bouquet on the table, now arranged in a carafe. "Do you think he takes you for a mark?" "Umm good question. We'll have to wait and see how this plays out won't we?" "Yes," Paulo remarked with doubt, "but don't let your heart overrule your head, OK?" "As usual, my friend, you watch out for me." "And don't forget it!" he said with a wink. "How could I?" I replied, as I placed my hand on his arm with a squeeze. Paulo walked off to attend to some other business, and stopped off to chat with Antonio as he was returning to the outside area of the cafe. I noted Antonio (Toninho) nodded his head in agreement and continued to return to the table. My heart ached when I saw that he was wearing the same stained shorts, a slightly soiled, torn tee --shirt, and the scruffiest looking shoes I had ever seen. His hair was dampened with hand-combed attention; his face and hands looked quite clean from the fast ablution he had taken to amend his outer appearance. The wide smile that radiated from his now clean face could have filled the marquee of a toothpaste advertisement. I felt the bittersweet pang and pain from deep within my midsection, at that moment. I decided that I had to get this young man some new clothes and shoes, at least. I would mention this to Paulo and run it by him first, however, before I committed myself to it. Sitting down opposite me at my table, Antonio said, "Senhor Oliveira, will bring me two sanduichas and a drink, if that is all right with you, Sir." I chuckled. "Anything Paulo does or says has my approval, Toninho." Silence followed during some moments of contemplation; "Is the Senhor your lover, Sir?" Taken aback by the shock of his question, it took a few moments for my senses to recover, while I formed a mental answer. Then I replied, "Paulo is my friend. We love each other, but without the sex involved. Do you understand what I am saying?" Silent moments ensued while Toninho was ingesting this disclosure. In comprehension a wide smile became evident before declaring, "I understand now." "Are you gai?" As only the young can do so well, they can ask questions of such blatant personal nature it can disarm, confuse, befuddle, and confound. "You ask some pretty personal and confidential questions, young man. It's impertinent to ask these questions, but I will answer you in total honesty. Yes, I'm gay.... my orientation is gay. It has been years since I've acted upon that orientation. Does that answer your cheeky question?" "Yes," he answered as if he had no care in the world about the relevancy to my behavior, "it does." Paulo arrived at the table and placed the sandwiches and drink down before Toninho, who greedily started wolfing down the first sandwich. Paulo looked at me and could tell that something was amiss, but wisely avoided questioning me about it, at that time. "Ricardo, may I pull you away from your guest for a few moments to have you look at some equipment for me? It won't be a couple of minutes, Antonio, would that be alright?" Toninho nodded his approval while paying attention to his sandwich. I, on the other hand, got up immediately and followed Paulo into the interior of the restaurant, pleased at being rescued from an uncomfortable situation. Out of earshot, he said "Whats wrong?" I recounted at what had just happened, still shaken. Paulo placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and remarked, "Oh, is that all. You must remember, you are not dealing with a normal child here, this young man has seen and lived an adults' life in such a short time that privacy and personal feelings have no place in their lives. The immediacy and moment in time is what matters to them. It's a fight to survive. He thought nothing about the intrusion to your personal space and privacy. Try to understand, Ricardo. You live and think at a different level and height. He has not been trained in diplomacy. He could show and tell you things about his life that would shock you and send you reeling in disbelief. He doesn't have the time to rue and regret. He does have manners however. I can see his eyes when he sees you. You are his benefactor, his protector. In a way, you are his Father. He is visiting you, else why would he bring flowers. I don't know whether he stole them or bought them with some of his hard earned little money, but he did offer what he had to you. Accept him as he is Ricardo. He has accepted you as you are. That little boy will go to the ends of this earth for you in time. Now get hold of yourself, and be the Daddy that he so desperately needs." As I turned away to return to my Toninho, he swatted me on my ass. Ahh, my Paulo, my friend, my anchor. "Sorry about that, Toninho. Are you still hungry? I notice that you've finished your sandwiches and drink. Dessert? Ice Cream?" The look in his eyes gave me the answer to my foolish question. I caught Paulo's attention and mouthed the words with facial exaggeration: ICE CREAM while pointing to Toninho. Paulo understood and nodded his understanding. Within moments he brought what could have been a quart of iced cream with a melange of fruits and nuts sprinkled over the top. I tried to withhold tears from forming at the edges of my eyes, as my vision dimmed from the extra fluids. Blinking, I thanked Paulo, who gave me a nod and a wink as he walked away to attend another table. The name Hoover comes to mind, when I recall watching Toninho sucking and slurping the iced cream, as if he were a human vacuum. Remarkably the pile was reduced to the bottom of the bowl by the scraping of the spoon trying to catch up any remnants. After a polite burp, Antonio exclaimed, "This is a holiday." I smiled. "Have you no relatives with whom you could live, Toninho? To go to school?" "Yes I do," he said brightly, "my granny lives in Porto Alegre." "Why aren't you living with her then? Surely she would be pleased to care for her Grandson, eh?" Reflectively he answered, "I've never been there. I don't know where she lives in that city." "Do you know her name?" His brow furrowed in deep concentration with head atilt. "I think her name is Flavia, but I don't know her complete name. I've forg, uh, uh, uh, forgot uh uh forgotten," he replied stuttering between attempts from crying. My heart was tearing apart, as I watched his brave attempt to withstand from falling into the depths of sorrow and despair. My heart was bleeding. It took all that I had within me to hold myself from enfolding him within my arms, to soothe his grief, to make things better for him. What could I do? Perhaps try to find his Grandmother in Porto Alegre. How would I go about that? Would there be a listing of addresses and names? What if she had no telephone? So many people don't. My God, only two more days and I would have to be back to work. What could I accomplish in so little time? I cannot for the life of me, send this boy back into the folds of the unknown and to endure what hells that await him there. I must enlist Paulo to aid me. I'll buy or rent a car and we can drive down there to try to find his granny. What if I settle Toninho in at my place? Paulo would be there for the adult presence that this boy needs in his life. Am I asking too much from my friendship with Paulo, to burden him with this problem? I am overwhelmed. Somehow, I must save this child. What can I do? *********************************************************************** Send comments to: richard@boystories.zzn.com To support this and other stories by Richard Dean, visit http://www.eroscities.com ***********************************************************************