Date: Wed, 04 Sep 2002 07:29:48 -0400 From: Tom Cup <tom_cup@hotmail.com> Subject: The Innocents by Richard Dean - Part 3 Chapter 2 Gay - A/Y Copyright 2000, 2001, 2002 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 alternative 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. ************************************************************************ The Paratwa Partnership, Inc. is a publication and marketing agency and is not responsible for the content of the Tom Cup Library, TomCup.com or its affiliate sites, or stories written by Mr. Cup or his associates. ************************************************************************ The Innocents By Richard Dean Part 3 Chapter 2 The Party "No more, Ton, no more. Twice is enough. My God, I can't recover as rapidly as you and just because you say you'll do it all, doesn't get it. I need a couple of hours to recover myself, baby. And don't give me that, `Awwwww Pae' stuff, it won't work. I'm on to your sly tricks." "But Pae, I've waited two long difficult months for this. You don't want me to be happy?" "Ton, do you think I'm insensitive to your feelings? Of course, I want you to be happy. I do everything within my power to see that your happy. When have I not done this?" "You ask total honesty of me, eh? You want to know when you do not make me happy? "Absolutely, Ton, tell me." "You make me feel unhappy and sad, when you insist I speak to you in English when we make love." "What are you talking about, boy? What about it makes you so sad and not happy?" "You are the most intelligent man I've known in my entire life, Pae. Yet you insist that when we make love I speak English, that's what makes me sad." "You must have known very few men, if you think I'm the most intelligent." "I'm speaking seriously, and you make jokes. Why Pae?" I sighed, "Perhaps its because I may be on the defensive. I'm not comfortable when I need to make defensive statements." In disgust, Toninho replied, "I am not confrontational and I don't expect a defensive argument from you. I speak truthfully. English is a good language, but in matters of love it's rude, crude and ugly. It has no soul, no romance; it rips the heart. "Suck my cock", "prick", "cunt", "cum", "ass". I cringe when I hear them or say them. They are abrupt, hard, sharp, and guttural. They have no tenderness. Portuguese is a language of love. It's one of the Romance Languages. The words of love are smooth, soothing, they have sounds of being caressed, stroked. They are expressions of the heart and soul. Don't you see, Pae? I'm not arguing with you. I love and honor you. When we make love it is gentle yet thrilling. Our ejaculations are a testament of our sharing and caring. The word "suck" sounds like it belongs to a vacuum cleaner. It doesn't evoke the ministrations of my wet skin to yours, as in Portuguese. Don't you understand, Pae? You ask the truth of me. I speak the truth to you. There is no shame in me for what we do to and with each other. In English it makes me feel dirty, unclean, unworthy, unromantic. I have no other way to explain this to you, Pae. If you insist, I will do it because you ask it of me. It will not alter the fact, that I will be sad, and unhappy, while doing it. Because you are my father, I shall do as you require and insist. In Portuguese it's like a gentle murmur, a sweet response, a poem. I'll say no more on this subject." I wept openly and unabashedly. My son, Toninho, my lover, my man, had taught me something I should have known or even had thought about before. He was absolutely correct. His expressions about swear words were truly Germanic, guttural explosions of short, harsh words. There is no beauty in them. I have much to learn from my Toninho, my partner, now my teacher. I must listen to what he has to say. Seeing me weep, Toninho thought he had injured me deeply with his words. He threw himself on me, and said, "Pae, I didn't mean to hurt you. Forgive me, Pae. I'll speak English if that's what you want. I won't stand up to you any longer. Please Pae, please forgive me. Beat me, hit me, and thrash me. I deserve it." "Shhhh, my son, I'm not crying because you've hurt me. I'm crying because I've failed to listen to you. You were spot on correct about my language when it comes to expressions of romance, lovemaking. There is no respect for the other, when those specific words are used. I love you more today, than I did yesterday. Tomorrow I'll love you more, than I have today. I'm nothing without you, Ton. You haven't failed me, Ton. I've failed you in not admitting you are now an adult." We lay on the bed holding and kissing each other for the longest time. It was comfortable and soothing. "Okay Mr. Adult, its time we go downstairs and see your Gran." "Does that mean I can drive "Herbie"?" "As if you haven't, Ton. As if you haven't." "Um, er, um, we were going to tell you, Pae. We never found the right moment." "This has been the right moment. I don't ever want to know how long you've been driving "Herbie" Ton. I want you to whisper this to Paulo too, OK?" With an embarrassed smile, Toninho asked, "You knew? How long have you known?" "You ask that of the most intelligent man you've ever known, Ton?" I replied smiling as widely as I could permit myself. I turned to walk out of the room, when I felt him suddenly jump on my back with his legs wrapped around my waist. He issued kisses on my neck, ears and side of my face. I carried him as far as I could to the stairway. I made him release me, so I could make a grand entrance to greet Miss Flavia and relieve her of her long held duties. This turned out to be one of the happiest days of my life. I felt fulfilled because Ton had truly become my full partner. He was a man. ************ After an ebullient greeting and subsequent conversation of events past and those of the near future, I glanced over to see Toninho sidle up to Paulo. He whispered something in Paulo's ear. I saw Paulo's shoulders slump. Paulo turned to look at me, and in his most inimitable manner shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "How could I refuse him?" I nodded my head as if to answer, "I know, I understand completely." Paulo cuffed Toninho on the back of his head as only friends will do, and with an arm attached to his shoulder they walked out of the room. My God, they're handsome. What are they doing with the likes of me? We gathered around the dining room table and had a long discussion and discourse on events of the future. I laid out my presentation of the plans I thought might be useful for our newly acquired building. At that time, I presented to my family my thoughts about Beto Perreira being the most eligible selection to be Director of the facility. Paulo and Toninho looked to each other and gave one of those victorious high five signs. When will it come to pass that he will want to be called Toninho no longer, but Antonio? It was decided that in the morning I would contact some lawyers and have them check all of the Federal, State and Municipal regulations in order to design the rules and bylaws of a Charitable Organization. It was necessary to implement a search for a Board of Directors. Two of the members must be executives of the Halliburton Companies and Petrobras, respectively. It would serve to cement a duo responsibility to these companies of renown. I also felt doing so would perhaps keep uncooperative politicians off our backs, during our initial build-up phase. Petrobras is the largest employer in Brasil, other than the Federal government, therefore opposition would not be taken lightly. When the topic of the name of our organization came up, Miss Flavia stated the name would be: Our Brothers Keepers. None of us gave an opposing thought. So it was the story of Cain and Abel, that violent tale of one brother striking down another, that was beneficent in the birth of our organizational name. It seemed apt. When dinner was ready I found out that we had employed a cook and a houseman, who assisted in the serving. Due to the largesse of our friend Elena, this was the result. It freed Miss Flavia of those chores of which she now had so little time. On occasion to please Toninho, Paulo and myself, she would prepare some of her specialty dinners of which we had become so fond. During these past few months while I was at work, Toninho had eased up on his schedule of studying and preparing for his A level exams. Paulo was still working at the cafe and once his shift was over, returned home and went immediately to work for the cause. All of the family had sacrificed in order to make the dream become a reality. Had it not been for Toninho, none of it would have become a dream. The following morning I had tasked myself to select some lawyers, while the family was showing the moving men -- who had arrived in a large van -- which articles they wanted moved to our new facility. Paulo would meet with the telephone installers so they could install a switchboard and various telephones situated on his site map. I prayed all would be completed and done by the time I arrived back home. Paulo would use "Herbie" and Toninho would drive me about the city in the Cadillac. Paulo confessed he had Toninho take the requisite drivers test, and was allowed to use a temporary license as long as he had an adult driver with him at all times. As I was an adult driver, but never would I drive in Brazil, as I wimped out at the thought of such, Toninho could not have been happier. It turned out, Toninho, WAS a good driver, but I reminded him as most back seat drivers do, to watch out for the signal, that truck over there, look out for those people. Toninho, I would scream at times. He would then curse me in language I had not heard in years. "Shut the fuck up, if you don't, take a god damned fucking taxi or fucking walk. I don't give a fuck." I deserved it. I grudgingly became silent, but know I must have left imprints in the floorboard as I utilized my invisible brakes at every opportunity. I ended up in acquiring the use of two of Petrobras' lawyers from the Legal Department who were knowledgeable of Federal and State laws. Municipal laws would not affect the Charitable Bylaws. Again, Petrobras, gave us full cooperation and never presented me a billing for the use of their lawyers. God bless Petrobras. By the time my driver, Ton, delivered me back home in the afternoon, the house had been cleared of all and sundry items that had cluttered the house from stem to stern. The yardman was repairing some bit of damage done to the plantings; a cleaning service had come into the home and scoured it from top to bottom. I was pleased beyond all words. Thank you and God bless Elena. At two past noon, two decorators appeared with a crew of men, who started making arrangements, winding a long wreath on the staircase railing, and setting up two Christmas trees. I retrieved the Christmas presents I had secretly stashed from my hiding place. As I picked up the last one, I noticed more wrapped gifts remaining. They were from Paulo. Have I no secrets from him? I had invited approximately 30 people whom I knew in the association of my work, special acquaintances from the cafe. Paulo had returned home from work early in order to prepare for the celebration. As he went to his room to shower and shave, I looked for Toninho who was nowhere to be found in the house. I found him in the garage, polishing "Herbie", grumbling about Paulo's lack of care when parking him under a tree. I made light of it by suggesting the Partridges in their Pear trees had eaten too much. His look of disdain to me elicited no more joking while he was tending to "Herbie's" injured pride. "I'm sorry I yelled at you while you were driving. You're an excellent driver, I do confess. I sometimes feel you may not be prepared for those race drivers out there, who don't seem to look or care which lane they drive in." "I know, Pae. I'm not at all sorry that I told you what I did. When you yell at me like that, it distracts me. That is not safe. You should be alert to that. I know you know better, it's just the way you are. An old fuss pot!" "You've got me there, it's all true. I can't deny it." "I love you so much, Pae. I'm not a little kid, please stop acting like I am." "I'll try, Ton. I'll always worry about you no matter your age. It's the way I am." "Come on, Pae. It's time we shower and change. The caterers have just arrived. You know what, Pae? I love everything about you, even when you're a fuss pot." We walked hand in hand to the house to prepare ourselves for the party. ************ Our guests started to arrive at 7 pm. Elena and her husband Julio arrived with the first contingent. I liked Julio immediately after Elena introduced him to me. Toninho had met him previously. They got along well too. Julio, I noted, treated Toninho as one would an adult. It was difficult for me to remember that he was an adult. In many ways, I saw Toninho as I had first seen him the day when he arrived scruffy, soiled and somewhat tentative. Tonight he was a gracious host. The houseman accepted the ladies wraps and the gentlemen's coats if they wore them. Toninho would escort them into the living room and up to the bar the caterers had set up, make introductions if they knew few of the others and would attend to the newly arrived guests. Miss Flavia and I commented on how easily Toninho had transformed himself into a young gentleman, at ease in his surroundings. It reminded me of how he had addressed the group of arrivals to my welcoming back party in Fortaleza. Paulo had a large hand in the transformation of this young gentleman. Toninho watched and mimicked Paulo's ease and affability with other people. "God has been good to us, Miss Flavia, we are surrounded by people whom we love." Saying thus I picked up her hand and kissed her palm. I noted her hand was shaking. Alarmed I asked, "Are you ill? Would you like to sit down?" "Perhaps I should, Ricardo. I'm tired, even after the long nap I had this afternoon." I found a chair for her and she settled into it with her stalwart bravado. Our guests came up to her and made many social comments about her and the pleasure they gained from meeting her. She had aroused the consciousness of a gentle city about which so many people knew little. She had organized a cadre of people whom she led on the original March of Silence, which became recognized throughout the country. Many similar marches were held in distant cities because of the compassion and genuine love of mankind this gentle lady, our Duchess Flavia Carpazetti d'Souza, would share. The party was a success. Around 9 pm, my Toninho announced to those assembled, "Ladies and Gentlemen, may I propose a toast?" Two of the caterers with trays of glasses filled with champagne slipped through the groupings of guests, so they could retrieve a glass in case they had not one previously in hand. "I propose a toast not only to honor my father, Ricardo Dean, without whom I may well have been a victim of the death squads, but to honor especially our lady Duchesa Flavia Carpazetti d'Souza, my avo, without whom I would have no life at all; for her generosity, compassion, and compelling spirit to advance the cause of mankind, I wish to make this salute of appreciation and deep affection. Join me in raising this glass to these special people in our lives. Salute." The entire group of guests as well as Paulo and myself raised our glasses and responded with, "Salute!" Regal in bearing and stature our lady remained seated and acknowledged the salute by nodding to each of us while looking directly into our eyes. She could not speak. When her eyes reached those of Toninho's she motioned to come to her. He walked to her in deference and knelt before her. She touched his cheek and bent forward and kissed him saying, "My neto, my gallant, brave neto. You're a vision to my eyes. You stand tall in my eyes. God bless you, my Antonio." We burst in applause, being witness to a display of genuine affection seldom seen in a public setting. She called Elena over to her side and bade her attend to her withdraw from the celebration and assist her to her bed. The remainder of the evening I noticed Toninho walking to each of the guests either singly or with their partners and talked lowly with them. I saw they shake hands and kiss each other on both cheeks before in the manner of the brasileiros. Much food and drink was consumed, but it seemed well worth it. It was a good Christmas Eve party. I was pleased that all had gone so well. Elena and Julio were the last to leave. We would attend many parties and get-togethers in the future. They would become close and fast friends. I was grateful for their alliance and disposition to our family. As the caterers cleaned up and gathered their equipment, we went slowly up the stairs as one group of three. It was Christmas day. ************ We awakened to a gray, cloudy, dismal day. However our spirits were not dampened by the weather, as we were certain the sun would shine once again on our beautiful Rio de Janeiro. The sun would not shine nor would the imprint of our existence be seen on the earth that day. We would mourn. God had called our Duchesa Flavia Carpazetti d'Souza to stand with the angels. As the hosts of heaven looked down upon we mere mortals, our task seemed nearly impossible to attain, without the assistance of our dearest Lady, our grief unbearable. ************************************************************************ ************************************************************************ Send comments to: richard@boystories.zzn.com To support this and other stories by Richard Dean, visit http://www.eroscities.com or http://www.tomcup.com ***********************************************************************