The stories on this page include gay couples as well as loving domestic discipline. All characters are original creations. Any similarity to other stories/characters or people living or deceased is coincidental. No money is made from this blog.
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Copyright 2010 - 2018.
Sunday, November 22, 2015
It wasn't until the
following Saturday that Angelo was allowed to see his friends. Amadeo and Milo
came to the house to pick him up. They were greeted by Mrs. Di Marco as
though they were long lost friends and who sat them down at the table with
glasses of milk and freshly made cookies. She placed another glass of
milk at Angelo's usual place and went to the living room door to call him.
Angelo came to the door
between the kitchen and living room where he stopped, head bowed, silent and
unable to look at either of his friends.
Mrs. Di Marco walked
back over to her son, pulled his head down and whispered in his ear.
Whatever she said caused Angelo's eyes to become bright. He buried his
face in the curve of her neck and hugged her. Neither of the other boys
could hear what she said before she returned the hug tenderly, but they could
see Angelo trying to get himself under control, so they turned their attentions
to their milk and cookies, allowing him as much privacy as possible in the
Julia rubbed her
youngest son's back and then held him at arm’s length, holding his chin and
making him look her in the eye. She smiled encouragingly and squeezed his
arms before sending him in the direction of the table.
He stood by his chair,
eyes focused on the table top, took a breath and said, "Guys, I'm really
sorry about scaring you that night. I didn't mean to. I...
I..." he faltered.
"Hey, it's ok,
man," Milo said reassuringly. "We're just really glad you were
Amadeo wanted to say
something encouraging, words of reassurance, of forgiveness, but he was still
somewhat angry. "Yes, we're glad you're all right. So, what do
you guys want to do today?" he asked, taking a bite of the still warm
cookie and washing it down with the milk.
Milo didn't pick up on
the slight edge to Amadeo's voice, but it wasn't lost on Angelo, who gave his
friend an anxious look.
They finished their
snack and wandered for the rest of the day. To Amadeo's frustration, he
was still under stricture to avoid strenuous activity, so baseball or football
were out of the question.
They stopped at the park
with a bag of day old bread to feed the ducks, laughing at the fish who would
pop up to get their share. They stopped at the railroad station, where
Amadeo had to admit that watching the trains come in was pretty cool. They
went to the book stores to browse, making wish lists as they went along.
At one point Amadeo's head began to hurt so they stopped at Grammarcy's
for burgers and cokes, where Angelo once again managed to gross Milo out by
dunking his fries into his chocolate shake.
"Don't knock it till
you try it, Mi! I'm tellin' ya!" Angelo said with a grin.
"If I eat that and
barf you owe me new fries," Milo said brusquely, pointing an
imperious finger at his friend.
"And if you like
it, you have to...to...stand up on the chair and sing Surfin' Bird," Angelo
Milo hesitated. He
looked at Amadeo who merely sat with his hand poised thoughtfully by his mouth
as was his habit, and raised his eyebrows in a way that clearly said, 'It's up
"Put up or shut up,
man," Angelo said with a cheeky grin.
"Ok, deal," Milo
Angelo replied confidently, holding out his hand to seal the bargain.
Milo, sure that he had a
free order of fries coming, picked up one fry, screwed up his face into
an expression of distaste, dipped it into the shake and haltingly brought it to
his mouth. He took a bite and chewed slowly. His eyebrows rose in
surprise. He was just about to dip the fry again when he noticed the
grins on his friend’s faces.
Angelo cleared his
throat and grinned. "I believe you were just about to break into
spontaneous song? Rather like a.... like a bird, perhaps?"
"Awww, guys, c'mon..."
Milo said, blushing and slouching down into his chair.
"You shook on it,
Mi." Amadeo said reasonably. "You don't want to be known
as a deal breaker, do you?"
Milo crossed his arms
and gave his friends a distinctly unfriendly look. "I hate you guys.
You know that, don't you?" he said in a disgruntled tone.
"Here, I'll get you
started," said Angelo helpfully, " 'Well everybody's heard, about the
Amadeo, clicking his fingers as though just remembering, "Don't
forget to stand on the chair so that we can see you."
despicable!" Milo glowered, giving a fairly impressive imitation of
Angelo sat back in his
chair with his hands clasped on the table, and looked at Milo expectantly.
Amadeo waved his hand
with a flourish. "The floor is yours, Maestro. Or should I
say, the chair?"
Milo stood on the chair
and began to sing loudly, gyrating his hips and flapping his arms like a
The manager, Mr. Gelson,
interrupted him when he was about a third of the way through the first part of
the song, politely asked him to sit on the chair like a human being and hush.
He then informed the boys that they were officially cut off from any more
cherry cokes for the rest of the day.
"Now, if I have to
come back over here and talk to all y'all again I'm gonna call your folks.
Hear?" he said sternly.
"Yes sir," the
boys replied politely, exchanging amused glances and smothering giggles after
the man had gone.
Several of the other
customers gave Mr. Gelson a standing ovation as he passed by them. Gelson
smiled shyly and waved before disappearing into the kitchen.
"Saved by the sound
of hearing," Angelo quipped.
Milo grinned self-consciously.
"I'da finished it you know."
"We know, man. It's
all good," Amadeo said with a smile.
"Oh shoot!" said
Milo, glancing at his watch. "I was supposed to be home ten minutes
ago! Aunt Sadie's coming to visit and I was supposed to be there."
"You won't be in
any trouble, will you?" Amadeo asked worriedly. "We'll go with you
and tell your folks it was our fault you lost track of time."
"Nah, don't worry
guys. Mom'll probably give me a whack or two to make her point, and then
Aunt Sadie'll rush over to me, give me a hug and a dollar and tell mom not to
be so hard on me." Milo grinned. "Later gators," he
said with a wave.
said wistfully, "Wish I had an Aunt Sadie to give me a hug and a
"We're outta luck,
man. Milo's got it made. We've got the sultry, Mediterranean good
looks, but Milo and his little brother have those dimples, and there's just no
beating the dimples," Amadeo said regretfully. "come on, let's
Angelo and Amadeo bused
their table, put their dishes in the basin and their trays on the stack and
left. Mr. Gelson didn't ask his customers to do that, but he did reward
those who did with little perks like extra pickles on a hamburger platter, or
extra chocolate sauce or cherries on a sundae.
The two boys walked in
silence for a while until they reached the park. Amadeo stopped and
gently grabbed Angelo by the arm. "Hang on," he said, pointing
toward one of the stone gazebos that dotted the park. This one was
encased in overgrown vines to an extent that most people forgot it was there except
for the occasional kid who wanted to sneak a smoke, or teens who wanted a
private place to make out.
He walked over to where
the entrance was and quietly pulled back the curtain of foliage to see if there
were anyone inside. Seeing it empty he looked at Angelo and said,
"Come on, let's sit down here a bit and talk."
Once they were seated on
the stone ridge that ran around the inside, Amadeo turned toward his friend,
right arm along the back of the sill, right leg bent slightly beneath his left,
with a very serious expression. "I'd like to talk about last week
when you disappeared," he said solemnly.
Angelo licked his lips
nervously. They'd been having such a good time today that he'd hoped
Amadeo would forget whatever it was that was bothering him that morning.
He fixed his large, dark eyes on his friend and sat on the ridge,
mirroring 'Deo's body language. "I'm sorry, Dae," he said
Ange," Amadeo said, putting up a hand to halt his friend's apology.
"What I don't get is why. You have me and Milo, and there're a
lot of kids in school who feel really crappy about the way they treated
you, and even more who regret not doing anything to stop people from bullying
you sooner. Some of the guys were talking in the cafeteria, asking each
other why they'd been excluding you the way they had and what it basically came
down to was someone heard something from someone else who heard something from
someone else..." he shook his head.
"The point is that
no one had any idea what had been said or by who, and everyone feels like
complete heels. The confessionals have been overflowing since May.
The funny thing is that there've been more folks going to the confessionals
than belong to the church," he joked, trying to lighten the mood a little.
Angelo remained silent
and kept his gaze on his hands which were clenched together on his lap.
"So, I just need to
know why you had to sneak out to go back with these guys... what do you get
from them that we can't give you?”
Angelo studied his hands
for a while, then finally raised his eyes to look directly at Amadeo.
"They were the only ones willing to be my friends," he said
quietly. "They didn't want my money, or to take my lunch.
They..." he stopped, searching for the right words. "They...
When I came across them I was afraid at first. There were all of them and
only one of me. They were older and bigger and I thought for sure they
were gonna beat on me, take whatever they could and leave me in the dirt."
Amadeo sat quietly while
Angelo gathered his thoughts.
"But they didn't
hurt me. They didn't make fun of me. They didn't take my stuff and
throw it around. They didn't trip me up and laugh at me and make stupid
remarks." Angelo took a watery sounding breath. Amadeo could
see, even in the dim light of the gazebo that his friend was close to tears.
"They asked me my
name. They thought it was cool. One of 'em, Steve, put an arm
around me and said I sounded like a good guy and asked me if I wanted to hang
with them." He looked up at Amadeo, fighting back tears,
"They'd only just met me and they accepted me just like that. I'd
been in school for months by then and not one of those hayseeds would even say
hello to me in the halls between classes," he said angrily.
new friends... did any of them ever ask you to do things you knew were wrong?
Or illegal?" Amadeo asked gently.
really," Angelo replied hesitantly. "They'd do stuff, you know?
I'd go along with em but I didn't do any of it myself. I... I
mean... a few times they offered me a cig and I'd take a few puffs... they'd
get a good laugh out of it cuz I couldn't do it right and I'd end up coughing
my gizzards out." He winced, "I got sick a couple of
times," he admitted. "But Ralph or one of the others would give
me a slug out of their Coke, or pop one open for me, and I'd feel better
"What kinds of
things did they do?" asked Amadeo, noncommittally.
"Well, like that
night... Frankie and Parker were painting graffiti on the walls. Steve
passed around a couple of cigs. One of em smelled funny so I wouldn't
take a drag from that one. Mighta been stale or something I guess,"
he said thoughtfully, "Carlos was passin' around a bottle of whiskey or
something like that, but it smelled so bad I couldn't make myself drink any of
"Did they force you
to do anything you didn't want to do?"
Angelo looked at Amadeo
with a guilty expression. "No, not really."
"What does that
mean, not really?"
"They kept offering
me cigarettes. I didn't want em but then they were kinda makin' cracks,
you know? So finally I took a drag to make em stop. I kept gettin' sick if I smoked too much, so I'd only take a few drags and pass on the rest.
They'd smile and pat me on the back and call me a trooper."
"What else happened
"Not much, really.
That night they were throwing rocks through the windows of an abandoned
factory. The night watchman came out yelling that he'd called the cops
and telling us to get out." Angelo said with a little smile of
"What are you
smiling about, Ange?"
"I knew it was wrong, you know? But... there was this
feeling... in the pit of my stomach... not bad like getting sick from smoking
the cigarette but like a... a moth was trapped in there and... my head felt
light... and I felt... happy. I was in trouble, but I was in trouble
surrounded by my friends. It felt good," he said frowning.
"Can you understand what I mean?"
"Is that why you
went back to them that night? For that thrill?"
"I actually went to
see them to tell them I wouldn't be back. I didn't figure I'd be gone
more than an hour, but I didn't know where to find them, so it took me some
time to scout em out. I finally caught up to em but then one thing lead
to another and we ended up at the factory and then... well, you know the
rest." Angelo said, bowing his head once again.
"All of us were
scared, Ange," Amadeo said softly. "I kept imagining the
worst. I thought for sure we'd never find you, or if we did you'd be
dead. I... "
Amadeo took a deep
breath and leaned down a little to look his friend in the eye.
"Look, Angelo, I've been wanting to talk to you about something.
There's this problem..."
"No. Don't," Angelo
said, sadly. "I... I know what the problem is. There's
something wrong with me. I've known it for a while now, and I guess
you've figured it out. That's why I don't really try to make friends...
cuz they eventually catch on... You don't want to hang out with me anymore and
you're trying to give me an out. I get it. It's cool. No hard feelings,"
he said, getting up quickly and preparing to leave the gazebo.
"Whoa, what are you
talking about? What's wrong with you? Catch on to what? What
have I figured out?" Amadeo replied in confusion, rising to block Angelo's
"You know! I
know you figured it out! That's why you're dumping me!"
Who's dumping you? What's wrong?"
something wrong with me!"
"Talk to me!
I'm your friend. Tell me what's wrong!"
"I can't! I
can't say it aloud. I'm sick. Sick in the head. I think I got
it from my uncle Pat. I think it's contagious. Let me go, Dae! Just
let me go?"
"Not til you talk
to me. What are you talking about? Sick how? You said you
never met your uncle in person, how could you have gotten anything from
"Maybe it was on
the paper he wrote his letters on, or on the pictures he'd send, and I caught
it that way."
"That makes no
sense, Ange," Amadeo said reasonably. "If he had anything
contagious that could be transmitted through letters and photographs then your
whole family would have gotten it, right? Come on now, calm down. Sit
here and tell me what's wrong," Amadeo continued, taking Angelo by the
arms and forcing the smaller boy to look at him.
"You won't want to
be my friend anymore if I tell you. You'll be disgusted... you'll... tell
everyone and I'll be back to... how I was," he sobbed.
"I'll always be
your friend, Ange. Always. Trust me," Amadeo said, pulling his friend into
a tight hug. At first Angelo resisted but his need for reassurance overwrote
his fear of Amadeo's reaction.
"Talk to me, il mio
Upset and distracted,
Angelo didn't notice the term of endearment. He disengaged himself from
Amadeo's hug and walked a few steps away, back toward his friend, eyes on the
leaf strewn floor of the gazebo. "Mi piacciono i ragazzi," he
"Mi piacciono i
ragazzi. Mi piacciono i ragazzi! Ho cercato di non! So che è sbagliato e
ho cercato di non ma non posso farne a meno! It's sick! It's
unnatural! I can't... I don't mean to... I don't want to but..." Angelo
said, unable to stop his tears. He wrapped his arms around himself
tightly, sure that Amadeo would either attack him or walk off in disgust.
(I like boys. I tried not to! I know it's wrong and I really
tried not to but I can't help it!)
said quietly, walking over toward his friend, "Non c'è niente di sbagliato
in te. Non sei malato. Non sei innaturale," he said, turning Angelo back
toward him and gathering him up into a hug once again. (There's nothing
wrong with you. You're not sick. You're not unnatural.)
"What do you know
about it?" Angelo hissed. "Mr. Popular! Star of the
wrestling and track teams! Everyone's favorite!" He struggled
to get out of Amadeo's embrace but failed miserably. "Bet you've had
every girl in the school. I see the way they look at you! Who
Amadeo wrestled Angelo
toward the stone bench, sat down and pulled the angry boy down onto his lap.
"Il mio angelo, tranquillo ora. Tranquillo. Ascoltami. Non sono
malati. Non sono innaturali. Non sei l'unico a sentirsi sempre in questo modo.
Silenzio ora e ascoltami," Amadeo said quietly.
(My angel, quiet now.
Quiet. Listen to me. You are not sick. You are not unnatural.
You are not the only guy to ever feel this way. Hush now and listen
Angelo stopped his
struggles and looked at Amadeo in surprise. No one had ever called him
'My Angel' except his parents. The words were the same, but there was
something different in the tone which was what caught Angelo's attention.
"Mi piacciono i
ragazzi troppo. L'ho conosciuto da quando avevo tredici anni. E c'è un ragazzo
particolare mi piace un sacco. Mi sono innamorata di lui il giorno lo vidi
attraversare la strada con il naso sepolto in un libro."
(I like boys too.
I've known it since I was thirteen. And there's one particular boy I
really like a lot. I fell in love with him the day I saw him crossing the
street with his nose buried in a book.)
asked, afraid that Amadeo would answer by throwing him off his lap. Afraid that Amadeo would laugh cruelly before
stepping over him to leave the gazebo only to run to his friends and tell them
all about Angelo the Freak.
said with a tender smile and a sparkle in his eyes. "That first day
when you showed me your garden, I wanted so badly to tell you how I felt, to
touch your hair, your face... to kiss you. I thought I felt a connection,
but I wasn't sure. I was afraid that if I was wrong you'd hate me and
tell me to get as far away from you as possible, and I was afraid that if
I were right I might scare you away if I moved too fast," he said,
hesitantly placing a gentle hand on Angelo's cheek.
Angelo looked into
Amadeo's eyes. A few years ago his mother had bought a clear glass coffee cup.
At first she'd been afraid to use it, sure that pouring the hot liquid
into it would cause it to shatter. She'd finally taken the chance and was
pleased when the cup remained intact. She'd then held it up to the
kitchen window so that the morning sunlight could hit it. The muddy
looking brew was suddenly lit from behind. Shades of brown, black and
gold swirled in the cup. Angelo had thought the colors were beautiful.
He found them again now in Amadeo's eyes.
Much as Angelo's mother
had done earlier that morning, Amadeo put his hand around the back of Angelo's
neck and pulled the boy toward him. Their eyes never left each other, but
even though Deo had never kissed another man in this way, his lips unerringly
found Angelo's and seemed of their own volition to know what to do.
Angelo's tears ran down his cheeks and Amadeo tasted them before
kissing his love more passionately.
"I love you, Angelo
Di Marco," he said softly. "Ti amo."
Surfin' Bird, The
Daffy Duck, Warner Bros.
Cartoons, 1937 - 1964/present No copyright infringement intended