The
last day of school before Christmas vacation the kids at the high school spent
their time making hand made cards for their parents and otherwise talking and
laughing, and sharing their wish lists with each other, some smacking themselves
on the head for not thinking of one thing or other, some boasting that they'd
gotten it the year before.
With
a large family, even one that was well off compared to the majority of families
in the town, the Rossi's kept the wish list to the top three per child,
although the lists were waived in the cases of the grand children who received
things their parents hadn't even considered putting on the lists, which the grandparents
demanded be written and presented by no later than November 1st.
Amadeo
had, on November first, startled his father by asking for one thing.
"Absolutely
NOT!" said Johnny, firmly. He was seated at his desk and had
welcomed the intrusion into his study in the hopes that he'd get a happy break
from his work.
"But
dad..." the supplicant tried to argue.
"No
buts! You are not getting a motorcycle."
"Its
not a motorcycle, dad, it's just a scooter."
"Which
is?"
"Just
basically a bicycle with a motor on it.
"
"If
it's a bike with a motor it's a motorcycle." his father maintained.
"Dad!
It's..."
"No!"
"Dad..."
Johnny
Rossi put his hand out in a familiar gesture, "Devo fare il mio punto sul
tuo posteriore?" he asked. (Do
I need to make my point on your backside?)
Amadeo's
jaw had clamped shut. "No sir." he'd replied through his
teeth.
"Do
you think an attitude is going to make me change my mind?"
Amadeo
relaxed his jaw. "No, sir. Sorry sir," he'd said
respectfully. "May I go now?"
"Go
on," he said, “And don't bother trying to go over my head and
ask your mother because we discuss all matters of this magnitude!" he
called as his son left the room.
Amadeo
was a little put out. He really hadn't thought that a scooter was that big a
deal, especially since he'd found one that needed a little work and it would
cost as much as three reasonably priced presents, but his father hadn't even
let him get that far.
'Deo
had gone to the living room and sat on the couch to sulk. He wasn't normally
one to engage in such a pastime but he felt that this was an appropriate
occasion. If his father had at least listened it wouldn't have been so
bad, he'd thought, but he hadn't gotten past the words motor scooter before his
father had said no.
Terri
had sympathized when she'd found him in the living room several minutes later,
but she'd agreed with their father, citing all sorts of horrible things that
could happen on a scooter.
"I
could step off of a curb and get hit by a truck. Should I avoid curbs
too?" he'd asked sarcastically.
"No,"
she'd replied mildly, "Just use your head and look both ways before you
cross." Then she'd gotten up and walked away.
<<<<<<<>>>>>>>
"
'Deo? Dae?! Madman!"
"What?"
Amadeo groused at Milo first for breaking into his thoughts and for
calling him Madman again. He was just glad that they were in the gazebo
and not at school where anyone and everyone could have heard and started
calling him that just to get under his skin.
"I
asked you three times, what were you hoping to get?"
"What
I want and what I'm going to get are two different things." he
grumbled. "What I want is cool and fun. I mean, I'll be
grateful for anything I get, but I really wanted that Lambretta this
year."
Milo
rolled his eyes. "Me too. All I got was a lecture on how
expensive they are, and how dangerous they are, and did I think my parents were
rich enough to afford a motorcycle and hospital bills and who was expected to
pay for the gas..." he sighed deeply.
"My
dad didn't get past 'NO!'" Amadeo said. "And once the
Drill Sargent has spoken his words are carved in stone and can't be broken even
with a jackhammer."
So
how much was the scooter you wanted?" Angelo asked.
"It
was only $150.00." 'Deo complained.
Angelo's
and Milo's eyebrows shot up. "Only?!" Milo asked in
shock. "Do you realize how long I'd have to work to earn that kind
of cash?"
"Yeah,
working for your parents. But in a real job... I wonder if I could
get a job somewhere and earn the money, then they can't say no."
"You're
sixteen, I think they can still say no." Angelo said quietly.
"I mean, I'm not sure but..." he shrugged.
Amadeo
let out a huge sigh. "I'm being an idiot anyway, it's not like I'll
die if I don't get a scooter. I'm just acting like a spoiled brat, I
guess."
"You
guess?" Milo laughed.
Amadeo
smiled and shouldered his friend, who made a show of trying to stay upright on
the stone ledge.
"What
do you do for Christmas, Ange? Anything?" asked Milo, knowing
that Angelo's family wasn't religious and didn't attend any of the local
churches, though they'd been seen dressed casually, driving through town in
their car early Sunday mornings and coming back in the early afternoon.
"Not
much, really. Mom makes a fantastic dinner, as usual. Sometimes
Matt and Mark come over, sometimes not, it depends on the year, they switch
between our house and their wives for holidays. This year they're both
going to be with their in laws."
"Anyway,
we do gifts. Usually little hand made things. Letters to each
other. Books or candy. We keep the store-bought stuff to a minimum
though."
"Can't
stand the crowds?" Milo asked knowingly.
"Crowds?
You haven't seen a crowd til you've lived in New York." Angelo
laughed. "Nah, it's not the crowds. Mamma and pop say that
Christmas is too commercialized, and that people forget the real reason for the
holiday. So we just have a small tree, and give each other little
gifts."
He
didn't mention that they normally didn't exchange gifts with friends, but
Angelo had picked several of his better artworks to give as gifts to his
friends. This would be the first Christmas that he had real friends to
give gifts to.
"Mamma
does this thing I love, when she sets up the manger." he said, gazing
peacefully at nothing in particular, "She's very secretive about it, but
she'll go around the week before Christmas and gather up little things."
He measured about a half inch between his fingers to show the size.
"No
one knows what because we've all been forbidden to ever look, but she wraps
them up, and on Christmas day there they all are in the kresh at the foot of
the manger with the statuette of the baby that she hides somewhere until early
that morning."
"That's
a great tradition." Milo said admiringly.
"I
like that." Amadeo said thoughtfully. "Would you mind
terribly if I adopted it?"
Angelo
smiled shyly. "No, I don't mind."
Amadeo
wanted so badly to kiss his boy at that moment.
"Go
ahead." Milo said.
"What?"
Amadeo asked, coming out of his reverie.
"I
can see that you want to do it, so go ahead."
"What
are you talking about?" Amadeo asked, hoping that he was hearing
what he thought he was hearing.
"Kiss
him!" Milo yelled, smiling. "If you're self-conscious
I'll turn my back but I can tell you want to kiss him, so go ahead."
"How
did you know? How long have you known? Who else knows?" Amadeo
asked.
"I
knew..." Milo looked up at the roof of the gazebo thoughtfully.
"The day Angelo nearly got run over by that car and you chewed me
out. As far as anyone else knowing, other than Steve and his band who, if
I'm right are the same way, I'm pretty sure it's still a closely guarded secret.
But..." he shrugged, "as far as how I knew? Man, you're
my best friend. I've known you since we were five.
We're like
brothers, closer than most brothers."
"And
you're OK with it?" Amadeo asked softly, "When did you first
suspect? I thought I was really good at hiding it." Amadeo asked,
stunned. Judging by the expression on Angelo's face he was feeling the
same way.
"Yeah,I'm
OK with it. I suspected a couple of years ago, when all the guys were talking
about this or that girl and you just stood there with a smile and didn't say
anything. The other guys just thought that with so many sisters you had
more respect for girls and wouldn't talk about them like that, but I saw the
way the other guys looked at the girls and how you looked at them, and it
wasn't the same look."
Milo
looked embarrassed for a moment and then continued, "When I first
suspected about you and Angelo I wasn't happy and I wasn't sure I could handle
it. But what you said about Mikey held for you as well. If anyone
treated you badly because you're a little different... would I stand by let
them hurt you? The answer was no. I thought to myself, if I'd been like
that, and you found out... I know you'd never have hated me for it. You know?"
"You
got that right, Tonto." Amadeo said quietly with a gentle smile.
"I know it's not the easiest thing to say or admit to but... it's
what we are. I appreciate your understanding and not.... well, turning your
back on me. Calling me names and such. And I've heard some really despicable
things said about people... like us."
"Yeah,
me too, which is why I couldn't stand the idea of someone doing it... saying
those things to you. Your secret is safe with me, all right? Wild
horses and all that junk. OK?"
"Jerk."
said Milo, shouldering his friend.
"Idjit."
Amadeo said, returning the gesture.
"So,
get to it. I'll close my eyes, just don't do what my older brother does
and make all those smoochy sounds, that's just gross." he said, closing
his eyes and humming tunelessly.
Amadeo
looked around to see if anyone was nearby then looked at Angelo who had
apparently been struck dumb by the entire conversation.
"Well,
you heard the man. Kissing but no smoochy sounds." he said, leaning
in toward Angelo and kissing him soundly but soundlessly.
******************************************************************************
NOTES:
Lambretta
was a line of motor scooters originally manufactured in Milan, Italy by
Fernando
Innocenti, 1947
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