The Private Journals of Isaiah Watts
Volume II

By: Nicholas Hall
(© 2021-2022 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

nhall@tickiestories.us

Chapter 13
The War Years

“His picture I keep on my night stand; our photo album I keep in our dresser, and; his love I hold in my heart.”

(The Private Journals of Isaiah Watts) 

The “incident,” as it was referred to by those living at Ravenwood, seemed to fuse the boys, Isaiah, Ramos, and Conley into one cohesive supporting family group even tighter than they’d been before. It was more than a family, working together, supporting each other, and loving one another, adjusting more and more to farm life, living in Decker’s Corner, and adopting its way of life and unspoken code of silence. Farm life suited the boys. They not only enjoyed it, but prospered as well, selling their produce.

In the fall, school opened and after some “persuasion” from David Watts, now on the school board and support from a sizeable number of the residents of Decker’s Corner, Carlito, Andres, Eddie, and Cordell were admitted even if some of their records might be considered as “suspect” by some school personnel. Cordell was the first (and only at the time) black student in the country school, but little fuss was made of it. Isaiah doubted it’d change once he attended high school in Logansport. Being from Decker’s Corner, living at Ravenwood, and the reputation of Isaiah Watt’s would be reasons enough for others to refrain from harassing or treating him unkindly. After all, who’d want to get their head bashed in or throat slit?

There were some changes, however, at Ravenwood, in terms of numbers of people there at any one time. Gio’s Uncle Freddy started stopping by, shortly after the “incident” for visits, centering his attentions on Carlito and Andres. Isaiah recalled, quite correctly, Uncle Freddie liked his boys young, hairless if possible, if not, then willing. Andres and Carlito didn’t turn away from his advances, in fact, seemed to encourage them. Freddie had the equipment to more than adequately tend to any needs they might have and to do so quite deeply and thoroughly.

Carlito and Andres would take every opportunity to bare their butts and welcome a good rogering or wrap their lips around Freddie’s rampant and larger than average cock. Licking, sucking, and massaging the fat cock-head and thick staff, along with the low-hanging sac of walnut-sized balls, would bring giggles of satisfaction to the boys and moans of desire and ecstasy to Freddie. They knew once they’d “turned his crank,” they both would be in line to have their “salad tossed” with an abundant supply of dressing. If Freddie stayed for a supper meal and an after-supper visit, after their shower, they’d take turns sitting on Freddie’s lap (with his cock buried deep) while listening to a story being read by Isaiah. They were not adverse to having their small, uncut penises suckled and worshipped by Freddie before sleeping for the night.

Freddie took all four boys on fishing trips, swimming (bare-assed naked) at the gravel pit, and other activities. He didn’t pass up the chances to fuck one or all four boys on such trips. However, Andres and Carlito were the primary recipients of his generosity and loving attention. Eddie and Cordell had each other, Monty, and Isaiah to satisfy their needs. Well, not always Monty since Larry St. James began making visits every couple of weeks to Ravenwood.

Monty would squeal with glee when St. James drove down the drive to the house, anticipating what was going to happen over the weekend. St. James would barely be in the house, until Monty had him upstairs, dropped his pants, wiggled his sweet ass at him, and begged (it took no begging since St. James was just as eager) St. James to loosen his britches, pop out his average, but sausage-fat cock, and fuck him! Although it may appear abnormal to some, St. James did truly love the younger boy and would do anything to please him. No harm would come to Monty with St. James as his lover and protector. Both were as happy as a tick on a fat dog!

Isaiah continued to send Gio a letter twice a month informing him of how the crops were doing and how much the boys were growing and how they were doing in school (quite well, in fact). He indicated how proud he was and Gio would be knowing how the boys grew their income from sales and what they were anticipating in the coming year. Isaiah also mentioned, almost off-hand, Freddie was a frequent visitor and St. James was a regular as well, leaving out why they visited, but hoping Gio would understand from the subtle inferences Isaiah made in his letters.

He noted, in one letter, Conley’s prediction came to fruition concerning the sales of ducks and geese over the holidays. The boys sold out of their available birds. Orders were taken, the bird dispatched, plucked, cleaned, and either delivered fresh or frozen for delivery later, depending on the customer’s wishes. Isaiah encouraged them to keep track and begin planning for another year, perhaps even Easter, if birds would be ready, and increase their flocks.

Isaiah knew Sabrina and Agosto wrote to Gio on a regular basis and also knew they also received no replies to their correspondence. Even though he didn’t either, every evening before settling down to sleep, Isaiah would spend some time looking at Gio’s picture on his nightstand, telling him of the day’s activities, sharing concerns with him, and telling him how much he loved him and missed him.

Winter, with snow and cold weather, was a new experience for Eddie, Cordell, Andres, Carlito, and Tommy. The first snowfall seemed to be miraculous to them and they enjoyed it immensely. The cold took some getting used to, but they were dressed adequately and warmly. After a few more snowstorms and the problems associated with them such as shoveling, doing chores, and frozen stock waterers, they soon decided winter could be a hardship as well. However, the rewards of sledding, snowball fights, and just plain playing in the snow seemed to offset the less pleasant side of winter.

For Monty, raised in western Iowa, winter offered another season for him to enjoy. He loved to hunt and did so, keeping the larder supplied with pheasants, quail, and rabbits throughout the seasons and winter. Monty decided another year, he’d like to begin trapping again, especially as he saw the number of muskrat houses in the backwaters, the evidence of bank Beavers, mink tracks, raccoon tracks, and fox.

Christmas was a fun time for all at Ravenwood. Cutting, setting up, and decorating the tree in the living room and hanging stockings were a large part of it. Christmas morning, the boys were up early, waiting near the tree for Isaiah, Conley, and Ramos to appear and give the nod to opening presents.  The stockings contained candies, an orange, and for each boy, a watch. Conley also gave each boy two new silver dollars. Warm clothing, along with special gifts for each were wrapped and under the tree. It wasn’t a rush to rip and tear, but each lad carefully opened his presents and made sincere thanks for them. Eddie and Cordell teared up in light of missing their now dead loved ones.

Conley, with health deteriorating, enjoyed the day as well. It was his “family” and he loved them all. Ramos was pleased to have a “permanent” home and people to “fuss” over.

Isaiah put on a brave front, but he did miss Gio so much!

Mid-January 1943, he received a phone call from Sabrina Russo urging him to come to their place as soon as he could since, “there was a man here with letters from Gio.”

******* 

The man, who’d waited patiently for Isaiah’s arrival, was dressed in a civilian suit of clothes and only identified himself as “from the War Department.” Isaiah did notice he wore a badge of some sort attached to his belt as well as a service revolver concealed in a shoulder holster under his suit coat.

His information was limited and given briefly as he produced two letters for Isaiah and two for the Russo’s. Under questioning all he’d reveal was Gio was assigned to the European Theater and wasn’t on front line duties. Beyond that bit, he wasn’t permitted to say more because of “national security.” He added, before leaving, Gio was serving his country as a true patriot and looking forward to the war’s end, adding, “because of dedicated men like him and others serving, we’ll end the war that much sooner.”

Isaiah saw him out to his car and in doing so, picked the man’s pockets, relieving him of an envelope marked “Top Secret.” As the car drove away, Isaiah quickly read the contents and tossed the envelope on the road near where the car had been parked. He walked back to the house, walked to a window, and waited for the car to return. It did within a couple of minutes, the man from the War Department leaped out, spotted the envelope in the road, scooped it up, and the car tore back down the road.

“I heard you were good,” Agosto commented with wonderment in his voice, as he stood behind Isaiah. “I just didn’t know you were that damned good!”

Pausing just a moment in thought, he added, “I’d love to see you and your brother Joshua work a crowd!”

“You wouldn’t see a thing,” Isaiah returned, turning to face Agosto, and handed him his pocket watch.

“Well, shit!” snorted the older man. “Anything in that letter we already didn’t know?”

“Not much! Only reinforced how difficult it’ll be for us to contact him and him to contact us. I’ll know more once I go through my two letters. He may have left a clue or two there.”

What he didn’t tell the Russo’s was Gio wasn’t on the front lines, he was behind them, working not only as a spy and saboteur, but as a liaison with a couple of Italian Partisan fighter groups. He made occasional radio contacts, in code, with Allied Forces, especially those identified only as “OSS,” to pass on to higher ups and get supplies. Otherwise, he was on his own. The letter did make note Gio, identified only as “Knobby,” was one of their most versatile and talented operatives and his identity and locations must be kept secret; so secret, only a few really knew.

Gio’s letters to Isaiah would appear to be banal and relatively trite, speaking only of how well he was and hopeful the war would end soon. He made inquiries about family members, weather conditions, crops planted, and other such personal things. Most all of it would easily pass muster from censors, but Isaiah had the code they worked out before he left. Gio was in Italy, currently, at the time of this writing, on the Adriatic Side, but would be moving to the West side of Italy soon. A cousin was involved somehow, but no hint given what his or her role was. Gio noted he’d be out of contact for perhaps months, but “don’t worry; I’m fine and intend to stay that way.”

Isaiah, Conley, and Ramos talked long into the night after the visit from the government man. Conley decided, just in case Gio would send a message via radio and Conley’s powerful shortwave receiver could pick it up, he’d purchase a wire recorder so he could record it. Gio’s voice would be recognizable to him, but finding someone who could understand and decode Morse Code might be difficult.

“That wouldn’t be a problem,” Ramos volunteered, “if what I hear from the boys is correct.”

“And what that might be?” Conley posed.

“Our local in-house genius, Jimmy, knows it well and he’s been teaching the boys.”

So, it began; Jimmy’s lessons turned into practice. As he listened, the boys practiced their code, and wrote it down. Nothing made sense, but it didn’t take long to figure out if Isaiah couldn’t decipher or make sense of the first few words or sentence of the message. If he couldn’t, it wasn’t Gio sending it to Ravenwood.

Winter, slowly winding down, decided to let loose one more blast before relenting to spring. Caught, on his way to Ravenwood, in a late winter blizzard, St. James was incredibly lucky! Barely making it to Ravenwood through roads clogged with mounting snow drifts driven by strong northwest winds, his cock hard and leaking in anticipation of snuggling up to a naked Monty and slipping his erection into his teen lover’s secret place, he pulled his car into a sheltered spot near the machine shed. Although the trip was difficult, St. James thought it was well worth it. He thought Monty was the most beautiful, desirable, willing, and responsive boy or man he’d ever met. St. James was in love with the teen and knew he was more than just a passing fancy to Monty.

St. James struggled, carrying his one piece of luggage through the snow to the house. Isaiah and the crew were just preparing to do the evening chores. Rather than peel off his winter coat and boots, St. James decided to help them.

Fortunately, Jimmy and Monty paid close attention to the radio weather forecast early in the morning and made preparation before the storm unleashed its fury. The hogs were herded into the hog house, the poultry confined to their respective houses, Bett’s and the horses put in stalls, the cattle herded into the stockyard near the barn where there was a three-sided, roofed shelter for them, and the milk cows brought into the barn. Extra feed and straw for bedding was hauled in as well.

Chores concluded with gathering any eggs, milking the cows, and making certain adequate feed and fresh water was available. Done, the crew and St. James headed toward the house where a hot supper awaited them.

Preparing for bed, St. James stripped naked, his cock, stiff and twitching as he stepped toward Monty’s bed, where he already lay naked, face down, with his butt slightly raised in anticipation, St. James couldn’t help but notice how much Eddie and Cordell, also naked in preparation for bed, had grown and matured.

Eddie was still small framed, deceivingly delicate in appearance concealing his true capabilities, and a nice five and a half inch to six-inch cock settled over a nice set of balls. Cordell, lean, trim and fit, definitely had grown! His uncut, smooth, fat, and almost seven-inch magnificence was about the same size as St. James, but fatter! St. James just couldn’t resist giving it a squeeze as he walked by, commenting, “Nice, Cordell, really, really, nice!”

He crawled into bed, topping Monty, settling his cock into a familiar hot, moist tunnel, hearing a soft, appreciative, “God, that feels good,” leaned forward, pushing his cock deeper until his pubic bush rested on Monty’s smooth butt cheeks, slipped his arms around Monty, settled his front on Monty’s back, and nuzzled Monty’s neck and ear, proclaiming, “I love you so much!” and started fucking!

Winter finally loosed its grip and spring planting season, farrowing season, gardening, and time for little chicks was upon them. There was work to be done and the spring and summer to enjoy.

Around the first part of July, Conley mentioned he’d heard over the short-wave radio of the assassination of a top German general and several high-ranking officers in a mysterious bomb blast. The partisans seemed to be taking credit for it. The partisan radio claimed the Germans murdered a large number of civilians in retaliation and was offering a large reward for the leader or leaders of the band of partisans. Little else was mentioned, according to Conley, but he did notice Partisan radio traffic seemed to increase. He figured the broadcasts were made from highly secret and/or mobile locations so the Germans wouldn’t find them.

“I’d be willing to bet,” Conley concluded in conversation with Ramos and Isaiah, “there’s something big about to happen in Italy.”

Ramos, who had more experience living in and around warring factions over the years, agreed with him.

Sicily was invaded in July of 1943 and the Italian mainland in September.

It wasn’t all work and no play at Ravenwood during the summer. The boys kept growing, learning and enjoying themselves. There was much to do and to enjoy. Isaiah, Conley, and Ramos made certain they had plenty to eat, exercise, and time to play including swimming, fishing, riding in the donkey cart, and visiting their “grandparents.”

It was the time, while visiting “Grandma and Grandpa Lovell,” Bill Lovell discovered Eddie’s special and well-developed art skills and natural talent.

“This,” Bill confided to David Watts and eventually to Isaiah, “is a talent that needs to be cultivated and developed since it could be extremely handy for us. I haven’t seen this kind of talent since my youngest son, Garrett.”

David agreed, but Isaiah, although reluctantly, agreed as well, but conditioned his agreement and permission with the caveat, only if Eddie can be allowed to develop his art talent to include those conventional aspects learned in various art classes and programs at school. David and Bill agreed and so began Eddie’s training and introduction to the world of forgery. He also learned oils, watercolors, graphite, and other mediums in various genres.

Cordell, on the other hand, couldn’t draw a straight line, but could sing like an angel and had a mind that never seemed to stop being curious or asking questions. He had a propensity to wonder and ask “why” about almost anything. When he watched “Grandpa” Lovell take apart a lock one day, he asked if he could put it back together. He did and another lock pick was born.

It was more than just locks! Cordell wanted to know how everything worked. Around Grandma Lovell he wanted to know why the ointment she prepared for “Uncle Isaiah’s” sore leg and hip worked and what plant or plants did she use to make it. How did she make it? What medicines did she give Mr. Conley and how did she know it would work? How do X-rays work? How do doctors know what disease you have? How do they cut someone open and not kill them? Why did salt and smoke preserve something?

When with Isaiah or Grandpa Watts, he asked such questions as why does a car jack lift a car to change the tire? How do airplanes fly? Once, when it was only Eddie and him with Isaiah, he wanted to know how a stallion could fuck a mare with such a big cock and not tear the mare apart.

Cordell and Eddie were top-notch students and Grandma Lovell predicted they’d go beyond high school and hopefully, college. It certain gave Isaiah reason to double his efforts in salting away funds for their future education.

The county fair was a big event for the boys of Ravenwood. It had a carnival with it providing rides and other fun. The exhibit barns took special interest and after looking over the various entries, collectively, they decided they’d enter some items in future years.

“Shit!” Cordell snorted going through the fresh vegetable exhibits, “our cucumbers and carrots are every bit as big and good to look at as some of these.”

“At least your cucumber is bigger,” snickered Andres.

“And tastier,” complimented Carlito.

Along with the county fair, its exhibitors, attendees, and carnival, there were others who would naturally or by means of making an income, follow along. Isaiah was surprised and extremely happy to discover several of his cousins and a couple of his aunts (with husbands) arrived to spend the time the carnival was in town, visiting and camping at Zoe and Bill Lovell’s. They set up camp in the yard, their caravans (trailers) providing their living quarters, and a place to visit. Bill and Zoe were delighted some of their children and grandchildren came to visit.

Isaiah was just as happy since there were some cousins his age and some older, who also had their families with them, and gave him the chance to visit and showoff his home and the boys. He had no doubt they’d be readily accepted, but Ravenwood boys held back at first, uncertainty concerning their place foremost in their minds. It sure as hell didn’t bother Eddie once he found out they were Romani! He chattered in Romani, introducing the boys of Ravenwood and paid especial attention to Cordell, naming him as his “boyfriend.” Cordell, by now, understood enough of the language to generally follow the conversations and speak some of it. By in large, however, English was the preferred method of communication.

The extended Lovell Family stayed two weeks and when they left, at Bill and Zoe’s invitation, promised to return and let the others in the family know their parents and grandparents had a nice place to camp and were more than welcome. Before they left, one of Isaiah’s older cousins, when visiting Ravenwood, posed an interesting question to Isaiah.

“So, you accept and provide a home for boys, orphaned and otherwise, queer mostly, or not, right? No matter what?”

“Yeah, we do,” was Isaiah’s response curious where the conversation was going. “Anyone in mind you might want to send here?”

“Nope! Just curious.”

******* 

By fall, St. James decided he’d really like to make Ravenwood his permanent address and home so he could be closer to Monty and he really liked it there. Isaiah thought it also meant St. James would also enjoy an occasional fuck with Eddie, Cordell, Carlito, and Andres as a bonus. The move would entail switching up Monty’s single bed for a double one. Eddie and Cordell had no objection.

“It’ll be more comfortable for us then,” Cordell commented, unabashed at the inference.

St. James couldn’t see any problem with sharing the room with Cordell and Eddie either. In fact, there were many benefits. If, for example, while he was pleasantly fucking Monty, he’d look over and watch Cordell, his long brown cock buried deep in Eddie’s firm butt cheeks, slowly pushing forward and back, his belly fitting into the curvature of Eddie’s back, chin resting on Eddie’s shoulder, and discovering his own cock seemed to stiffen even more, increasing his ardor and Monty’s pleasure.

It wasn’t at all unusual, if Freddie Russo wasn’t around to see Andres and Carlito being plugged by Cordell and Eddi, their smaller bodies full covered by the older teens, either doggy-style or face-to-face, urging the older boys to slow down and make it last.

The night Cordell asked to fuck him so Eddie could fuck him, after checking with Monty and receiving a nod of approval from him, St. James rolled over onto his stomach and felt Cordell slide inside his asshole, sink pubic hair deep, and Cordell’s hand begin stroking him as well. The fucking action and the masturbation while watching Eddie fuck Monty, caused him to fire several large spurts of his thick white man-juice into Cordell’s hand while feeling Cordell’s teen cock swell several times when he pumped his teen-juice into him.

St. James would help around the farm while he was in residence and continue his photography business when away. In addition, he’d assist the boys in their education, especially Monty. He was convinced Monty could learn to read much better once he was better able to compensate with his “reversals.” St. James admitted it was challenging, but would do anything and everything for the young lad he so fiercely loved!

******* 

Conley, after the invasion of Italy, began picking up radio transmissions in English indicating Partisan fighter groups were seeking revenge on the Nazi’s for the heinous crimes they were committing, including rape, mass murder, and sexual perversive acts on children, on the civilian population. Their acts of retribution included a warning to Nazi Troops and officer including a warning of “an eye for an eye.” In one example, some twenty Nazi officers and troops, their head impaled on rifle bayonets, lined a road the Nazi’s were using to transport troops and supplies to the front.

In another case, the Partisan radio reported someone sneaked into a Nazi camp during the night and slit the throats of every other man in a sleeping squad and left just as silently as he or she entered.

Isaiah found the latter incident suspiciously familiar, but said nothing.

******* 

Isaiah hoped, with the Allied Invasion of Italy in September 1943, they might be able to hear from Gio more often since it was touted American Troops did receive their mail from home whenever possible.

Russo’s and he received letters in December 1943, January 1944, February of 1944. There was a break until April of 1944. In that letter to Russo’s, Gio offered his sorrow his grandfather’s cousin, Leo (the same age as his grandfather), and his entire family “moved away.” He knew his grandfather would miss their company a great deal!

Tears streamed down Agosto’s face, knowing the only cousin named Leo, his age would be in Italy, he choked out, “Isaiah; this means he’s in Italy, doesn’t it?”

Isaiah nodded solemnly.

“What does he mean by ‘moved away’?”

Isaiah hesitated for a moment before replying sorrowfully, “He means they are no longer among the living- all of them!”

Agosto sobbed, “Those fucking, murdering, sons-a-bitching, Nazi’s killed my cousin and all of his family?”

Isaiah said nothing but nodded it was true.

“I hope,” Agosto groaned, “the L'angelo vendicatore, (the Avenging Angel)”, revenges my family. I wish the Angelo della Morte, (the Angel of Death)” visits those murdering bastards sending them all to hell!”

Isaiah could only wish so to, but more so, Gio would return home safe and sound.

Isaiah received the last letter he was to receive from Gio, dated in late August. It said little, noting all was well and words of encouragement to Isaiah not to worry. He also, in their own code, referred to “The Art of War,” specifically to the number three one on their list. “Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.” Isaiah had a feeling it meant something omnivous and didn’t bode well for Gio or for their future.

The war waged on, the Allies pushed the Germans father north, Mussolini was deposed but continued to fight in the north, and still no word from Gio. In October of 1944, the same War Department man who was their source of contact, appeared at Russo’s house unannounced, accompanied by two Army Officers, one a Captain and the other a Major. Happen-chance, Isaiah was at the Russo’s at the time.

Isaiah, visiting with Sabrina while Agosto answered the door, heard him give a low, mournful moan of despair and grieve, sat as Sabrina rushed to Agosto’s side. He heard her also gasp a “Oh, no!” and immediately rose to join the couple.

The three men were invited inside and offered a place to sit down. On the request of one of the army officers, they sat as well. Isaiah knew in his heart and in his mind, the news they were about to receive wasn’t going to be good news, in fact, news which very could ripe his heart out!

The War Department man, cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and said, “There’s no easy way to say this.....” as Agosto and Sabrina’s eyes filled with tears and Isaiah’s stomach lurched, ready to spew its contents out without some control on his part. His fists clenched, his jaw tightened, and his resolve to stay as calm as he could strengthened.

“Mr. and Mrs. Russo, Isaiah, its our sad mission to inform you Captain Giovanni Russo is missing in action. We’ve not made any contact with him for well over a month.”

“Captain Russo,” Isaiah interrupted, “he was an enlisted man, just an ordinary G.I.”

“I understand your concern, Isaiah, so I’ll let these two Army Officers explain, what they can concerning Captain Russo.”

The Major began the conversation noting, “Giovanni Russo was temporarily granted a commission as Captain, due to the type of operation he was involved in, in hopes, should he be taken captive, he’d receive preferred treatment. It is our hopes, even as we declare him missing in action, he has either been taken captive and is detained in a prison camp or perhaps injured and is convalessing in a hospital somewhere. We aren’t giving up on finding him. Captain Russo was an invaluable member of the special team gathering information concerning our enemies in Italy.”

“Just what was his mission?” Isaiah inquired. “Where was he last contacted?”

“There are many things I’m unable to tell you,” the Major answered, “but I’ll answer any questions I can without divulging any information which, if should get back to the enemy somehow, would endanger our troops or compromise national security.”

Sabrina invited the men to sit with them and offered them coffee, which they declined. Isaiah, calming himself on the outside, in a turmoil on the inside, began asking the questions the distraut and emotionally drained older couple, the Russo’s were either unable to or not aware of to ask.

“Can you tell us where Gio went missing and approximately when?”

The Major, noting Isaiah’s concern, not wanting to reveal more than he could, responded Gio was stationed in Eastern Italy in an area where high Partisan resistance fighting against the Germans was taking place.

“Shortly before and afterwards,” the Major offered, “ we were unable to make any radio contact with Captain Russo. We contacted the Partisans and our own people in the area and they were unable to locate him or make any contact with him. It was suggested to us, from several sources, he may have been taken captive.”

“Oh, no!” sobbed Sabrina softly, worry over the fate of her grandson in German hands might not be so good. Too many stories were filtering back concerning the atrocities of the German forces.

He offered no more information on the location or event, except to say their original reason for trying to locate him was to rotate him out of that particular theatre of operation, give him some rest, and reassign him. Trying to reassure the Russo’s, the Captain offered,

“I’m very familiar with Captain Russo and how he operates. We believe he has been captured and being held for exchange. If I know Captain Russo, the Nazi’s have no idea how valuable a resource he is to us or how dangerous an operative he is to them.”

Isaiah and the Russo’s learned little more, only that the’d be kept apprised of any new developments. After they left, Isaiah took a deep breath and revealed where he thought Gio was last heard from.

“In September,” he began, “there was a large battle involving Partisans near the seaside city of Rimini. Conley and I heard about it, originally, over his shortwave radio system. It was quite the battle!”

“Rimini?” Agosto asked, receiving a nod from Gio. Agosto hugged Sabrina comfortingly, saying, “Rimini isn’t too far from Porti Sicuro where some of my people live.”

There and Sicily, Isaiah thought. Knowing Russo had relatives there gave credence to the reference in Gio’s last letter about the cousin “moving on.”

The drive home seemed to take forever, since Isaiah stopped on a deserted road, stepped out, raised his fists into the air and screamed his loss into the skies! His other half, his life-mate, his love of his life, was torn from him, either laying or wandering in a distant land, and he was helpless to do anything about it. He shouted his anger at those who started the war and continued it knowing old men start them and young men and women fight them. Going to war was a conscience decision on Gio and his part, knowing there may be a tragic end to it, but Gio was willing to sacrifice to save Isaiah.

It was almost suppertime when he arrived at Ravenwood, having stopped at his parent’s house to give them the news, knowing they’d immediately go to the Russo’s to offer them any assistance they could. Isaiah waved to Ramos to follow him into Conley’s office where he broke the news to Conley and him. Conley took it the hardest and Isaiah feared he might collapse from shock and grief, but he didn’t.

“Best tell the boys,” Conley said softly.

******* 

The winter of 1944 seemed extraordinarily long, cold, and lonely as far as Isaiah was concerned. The boys seemed to be adjusting well to the loss of Gio, much better than he was. Each night Isaiah spent some time looking at Gio’s photo talking to him, encouraging him to return, stay safe, and how much he loved him and missed him.

Each day, he hoped for word from the War Department or by mail of Gio’s status. Nothing really encouraging came to fruition except “we’re not giving up the search.” The war in Germany and Northern Italy continued, although the end appeared to be in sight.

April 8, 1945 Conley didn’t appear for his usual before breakfast coffee. Isaiah went to his bedroom to check on him. Bill Conley, the Patriarch of Ravenwood, died sometime during the night and his body rested in the deep repose of lifelessness.

He was buried in the township cemetery with members of the Watt’s, Russo, Lovell families in attendance, along with a large crowd of community members. His family mourners were Isaiah and the boys of Ravenwood, who, as much as they wished otherwise, accompanied his casket to the gravesite and stood sorrowfully by as prayers were read and he was committed to the earth. Isaiah acted as Conley’s son since he had no other family and Isaiah and Gio were the closest to him of any. They loved him dearly and would miss him so. Isaiah grieved not only for the loss of Bill Conley but for the absence of Gio as well.

Conley’s Will was quite forthright and unambigous; all of his property, including all farms, buildings, partnerships, and other such agreements,  personal and otherwise, wealth, investments, and holdings was bequeathed to Isaiah and Gio to be shared equally with rights of survivorship. If neither survived, it was to be divided equally among Paul Ramos, Tommy, Andres, Carlito, Eddie, Cordell, Monty, and Jimmy.

******* 

The Germans surrendured Italy May 2, 1945. Isaiah, hopeful now somehow he’d receive word concerning Gio’s welfare now that part of the war was over, happened to re-read Gio’s last letter, as he had several times before.

Smoothing out the paper, he began to read and stopped! It was addressed to “Isaiah” not Cousin Isaiah, meaning there was a coded message in it. He knew that since he ferretted out the quote from “The Art of War” previously. He wasn’t certain what it meant, but there was a reason it was referred to. No matter how often he’d read the letter he could ascertain no more. The only other hint was the death of a fellow officer combatant, who was thirty-four when he was taken to the angels.

Isaiah looked at the number of the letter he’d received from Gio noting it was number 210 written in the upper right hand corner. For some reason it never registered the number on the letters sent between them was always written in the top left hand corner. There was no way they’d written that many letters. Why the hell hadn’t this tumbled to him before? The more he thought on it, the more he came to the concluion, although the letter was dated as August 1944, it was written and sent before that month, possibly two or three. Certain references, he’d not noted and interpreted previously, pointed strongly in that direction.

“Tis a puzzlement!” he muttered aloud to no one in particular, scruntizing the letter with more intent than previously.

He looked closer at the number 210. It was this close scrutiny, aided by a magnifying glass, which enabled him to spot just the tiniest mark of a period between the 2 and 10. He paused in thought and then scrutinized the number 34, the age of the other soldier. He saw the same faint mark between the 3 and the 4.

“What the hell does he mean?” Isaiah muttered, puzzled as the mystery seemed to deepen, if there was one.

He was seated behind the desk in Conley’s office, now his own, as he sorted out his thoughts. Scratching his head, for some reason he remembered some Bible verse the preacher read at Conley’s funeral about beating swords into ploughshares.

“Where did that come from?” he said aloud, before spinning the desk chair so he faced one of the bookshelves in office, rose, walked over and pulled out the Bible. He flipped pages until, in the Old Testament, he came to the book of Isaiah. It seemed to be so simple; he thought. Could Gio be guiding him to the book of Isaiah by using his actual name in the salutation of the letter rather than “cousin”?

He read down until he found Isaiah 2:19. Reading further, he located Isaiah 3: 4.  He set the Book aside, smiled to himself, and said aloud, confidently and with hope,

“So that’s what the hell you’re up to!”

The End- Volume Two

Posted: 06/24/2022