Cousins All
by:
Will B
(©
2007 by the Author)
Advisor: E Walk
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are
allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
Al and Mark have removed Tony, a teenage boy from an unhealthy atmosphere. They have found him a home, help a grieving couple, and realize more and more they are drawn to each other.
To Jaz and Nicky
Chapter 3
I. Night must fall.
It was 9:30 on the night of June 1. Al and Mark were driving back to the police station to file their reports. Since it was still a hot sultry night after the rain, they thought perhaps they would take a shower and change into fresh clothes before going to get that beer.
“So, Al, what is this concert you are doing tomorrow night,]?” Mark asked.
“Oh, a group of my cousins and some friends have a musical group. My brother Steve and I play guitars. Jim plays a banjo. Tim pays a ukulele when he can make it (He is a student at seminary.), and my sister Sarah and Tammy Heckman sing.”
“What kind of music?” Mark wanted to know. “Rock? Country? Western?”
“We’re not very fancy. We mostly do songs from shows and movies. We do a lot of programs at children’s hospitals and the little ones like songs from Walt Disney movies. We may never get to Carnegie Hall, but we have fun and the children like it. Tomorrow night we are going to the cancer ward at Kernan’s Children’s Hospital.”
Mark was quiet for a while, but he was thinking. “What a great guy Al is. He is warm and caring, and he likes children. And, damn! But he is one hot guy! I’m getting to like him more and more. If only I could tell him . . . if only . . . .”
The rain had stopped and the sidewalks were mostly dry, but there were a few wet patches. Suddenly Al called out, “Look Mark, that lady has slipped and fallen!”
Mark pulled the car over to the curb and Al got out to assist an elderly lady, wearing a black skirt and a white blouse. She was trying to get up, and she had tears running down her cheeks.
“Are you all right ma’am? Don’t move, ma'am, we’ll help you.”
Mark came around the car and exclaimed, “Why, Miss Mabeline! What are you doing out?”
“The elderly lady, with gray hair and skin the color of chocolate, replied, “Why Mark Taylor! I am so glad you and this young feller have come along. I was working late at Ms. Hoffman’s – she had a dinner party, and paid me extra to stay late. She offered to send me home in a cab, but I told her I’d just take the bus. I only had to walk three blocks. Then I fell down and I’ve twisted my ankle.”
Al said, “Miss Mabeline, I’m Al Johnson, Mark’s partner. Now, if you’ll let me, I’m going to check your ankle to make sure no bones are broken and then we’ll put you in the car and get your home. Will you be all right when we get you there?”
“I will be, Officer. My daughter will be there and she will take care of me. You two boys are so kind. I do thank you.”
Gently, Al lifted Miss Mabeline and put her in the back seat of the car. He helped her sit across the back seat so that her ankle was elevated.
Mark and Al both got in the front seat of the police car and slowly drove the injured woman to her house. Al went to the front door and rang the bell. When a young woman came to the door, he said, “I’m Officer Al Johnson, ma’am, and your mother is in the back seat of our police car. She fell and sprained her ankle and my partner, Officer Mark Taylor and I brought her home.”
“Oh my goodness! Is she all right? Does she need to see a doctor?”
“No, if you just let her rest, and maybe put some cold compresses on her ankle, she should be OK.”
“Bring her in, please, Officer Johnson, and thank you!”
Al and Mark made a “firemen’s carry” with their linked crossed arms and got Miss Mabeline to the front door and into the living room, where they set her on the couch.
“I cannot thank you enough, both of you,” said the elderly lady. “God bless the two of you!”
Saying good night, Al and Mark got back in the car and drove to the police station. It was now 10:00 at night, and between shifts. Very few policemen other than the duty sergeant were in sight. Going to their desks, they completed their reports of the day’s activities.
“I need a shower before we do anything else,” said Mark.
“Good idea.”
The two went to the locker room where they kept clean clothes and stripped naked.
The locker room contained lockers for 500 men. There were 250 lockers on each side of the room, arranged in 10 bays with 25 lockers each. At the end of the locker room was a room with 10 toilet stalls and 10 urinals. In the next room there were 25 sinks where men could shave if they wished. At the door to the shower room there were shelves of clean towels and a bin for damp towels. Men could come out of the shower room, get a towel (or two), and after drying off, put the towel or towels in the bin for the laundry service to pick them up, wash and dry them and bring them back.
Al and Mark had their lockers in the alcove farthest from the shower room, so they had to walk the entire length of the locker room, the toilet room and the shaving room, to get to the showers. The shower room had showers on three sides of the room, 25 showers in all, each in a little three sided cubicle with walls 4½ feet high, so men could have some privacy, and yet talk while they cleaned their hot, sweaty, muscular, hairy bodies.
The fourth side of each cubicle was open toward the center of the room. The floor sloped towards the middle, where drains carried the soapy water away. The walls were covered with white tiles to just above the showerheads, and the rest of the walls and ceiling were painted a light blue. A band of blue tiles ran around the walls just at the height of the top of the cubicle partitions.
Al saw Mark nonchalantly walking buck naked, in all his glory, toward the shower room carrying a bar of soap. Al was a step or two behind Mark, and could not help but notice Mark’s muscular butt. As Mark walked, the muscles in his butt cheeks and upper thighs moved in a sensuous rhythm.
///
As they passed the third alcove, Al found himself thinking how he would like to run his fingers lightly up and down the inner side of his partner’s thighs.
Passing the fifth alcove, Al imagined himself on his knees, licking and kissing those muscular ass cheeks, and maybe giving them little love bites.
At the 7th alcove Al’s horny mind pictured him licking and sucking the ass crack of this wonderful stud of a partner. “If only, if only…” Al thought to himself.
Just as they moved into the toilet room, Mark dropped the soap and bent to pick it up. Now Al could see into that cleft of pleasure and delight, and he thought he saw Mark’s rosebud “winking” at him.
“I can’t stand this,” Al mused. “I’ve got to tell Mark how much I’m attracted to him—not only for his body, but for the wonderful, kind, caring person he is. Am I falling in love? I’ve got to say something . . . but what if he punches me in the face?”
At that moment, reality kicked in, and Al realized that his own man tool had become erect, had become engorged, and was producing pearly pellets of precum that were painting his purple helmet with a translucent sheen.
“I can’t let Mark see me like this!” Al thought and quickly walked into the first shower stall, and turned on the hot water, quickly rinsing the appetizers of his man juice down the drain. Facing the back wall, he didn’t realize at first that Mark had walked into the next shower cubicle and was also beginning to let the warm water cascade over his broad shoulders, his pecs and his nipples. The water streamed down his abdomen, through his treasure trail and laved his genitals with soothing warmth that did nothing to cool the raging heat in Mark’s own mind.
Mark had in fact noticed his partner’s more than adequate endowment, and Mark found himself thinking how much he would like to kiss and lick and suck those nipples on Al‘s chest. He wanted to bury his nose in Al’s armpits and inhale the heady aroma of his partner’s sweat.
Mark thought how sweet it would be to sink to his knees and kiss Al’s balls, and to pucker his lips and surround Al’s helmet and let his tongue flicker over the piss slit and explore the ridge below the helmet. He wanted to envelope Al’s entire engorged engine of euphoria and entice Al’s elixir of joy into his own mouth, and he wanted to suck and suck, and SUCK, and SUCK and the SWALLOW all of Al’s steamy, slightly salty but sweet seed.
At this point Mark almost shot his own load into the water. “Oh, my!” Mark thought, “I am attracted to Al so much, not only for his hot sexy, studly body, but for his personality. He is thoughtful, gentle, and caring. Am I falling in love with my partner? How can I let him know how I feel? Will he hate me?”
The showering time was over. Al and Mark walked out of the shower, each one lost in his own confused thoughts of lust and love and fear of rejection.
They dried off, put their damp towels in the bin and walked back to their alcove where they dressed.
“Ready for that beer, Mark?”
“Sure am, Al, let’s go.”
II. Joy cometh in the morning.
Al and Mark had their beers, and each gone to their own apartments, each filled with wonder, awe, and trepidation over how their relationship would develop.
At 8:15 Al picked Mark up and they drove to the Lombardis. They were both wearing their dress uniforms. They arrived at the Lombardis’ store at 9:00 sharp. Luigi Lombardi was wearing a grey suit with a white shirt and a deep blue tie. Rosa Lombardi had on a black dress that had little white polka dots on it, with a lace collar. Around her neck she wore a gold crucifix on a chain that Luigi had given her on their wedding day.
What about Tony? Look at Tony! No longer the skinny, shivering boy that Al and Mark had found on the street the night before. In his place was a slender young man, resplendent in black trousers, a white shirt, a deep blue tie, and a maroon blazer. He was quite a handsome young man, and he and Papa and Mama made beautiful picture as they stood on the sidewalk.
Mark looked at Mama with a question in his eyes. Mama replied, “Yes, Mark, we had some clothes of our Antonio, and do you know they fit Tony perfectly! Of course we will be buying Tony some new clothes of his own, but he said he would be happy to wear this outfit today.”
Just then a short stout Jewish lady came bustling up. “Mama Lombardi,” she said, “You will never guess! Such a miracle! I have the job, and I got paid for this week’s work, and now I can pay my bill! Oh, but your store is closed. I hope nobody is ill.”
“No, Mrs. Himmelfarb,” Luigi replied, “No one is ill, but we have had a miracle or two of our own. First of all, some angel has paid your bill. As of today you owe us nothing.”
Mrs. Himmelfarb stopped short, thought for a minute, and said, “An angel paid my bill, you say? I know you won’t tell me who it was. . . Well, I will be an angel too. A Jewish angel, Think of that! Hah hah hah! Now, I want you to take this money and use it to pay someone else’s debt. Knowing you, I am sure I am not the only one you have carried on your books. Yes, take it. But, but, you said you said you had had two miracles. What is the other one?”
Rosa Lombardi said, “These fine gentlemen, Officers Al and Mark, found this young man last night, in a bad situation, and they brought him to us, to see if we would hire him for the job we had been advertising. And one thing led to another, and Tony is going to live with us, and today we are all going to the Division of Social Services, and see if we can be granted custody of Tony as foster parents. He really has no one else.”
Mrs. Himmelfarb was momentarily silent—but only momentarily. “Oh, that is such a blessing. Mazel Tov to you, to you all. . . . What time do you think you will be back? “
Luigi replied, “After we got to the Social Services people, and get Tony’s belongings from the hell-hole where he had been staying, we are all going to a Chinese restaurant for lunch. We’ll probably be back about 2:30”
“What,” gasped Mrs. Himmelfarb, “The finest Italian cook in the city eating at a Chinese restaurant. Oy Veh! Will wonders never cease? Well, Papa and Mama and young Tony, I must fly. God bless all of you, and mazel tov again!” With that Mrs. Himmelfarb trotted away, chuckling to herself at the thought of an Italian cook eating Chinese. Oy veh!
III. A bureaucracy can move fast at times.
The carload of people pulled up the SS headquarters at 10:00. Adele Pritchett had retired, and Alicia Cross Heckman, wife of John Heckman and sister-in-law of Timmy and Tammy Heckman, was now Director of Child Protective Services, and she agreed to see the entire group, and she invited Matt and Gary to attend the conference.
Al told how he and Mark had found Tony selling flowers on the street late last night, and why he was out so late.
Alicia asked Tony to tell her about this “church” where he was living. When he finished she just shook her head in disbelief and asked Tony to repeat the address, which she noted on a pad of paper.
Mark then related why they had taken Tony to the Lombardis, and he told the Director what kind of people the Lombardis were, and how they helped their neighbors who were in financial straits.
Alicia asked Matt to take Tony to his office and find out a little more about how the boy felt about the Lombardis. She directed Gary to talk to the Lombardis privately, and everyone was to meet back in her office in 30 minutes.
Matt asked Tony how he felt about living with Mr. and Mrs. Lombardi.
“I’d like to live with them very much,” said young Tony. “They have been so good to me. Sir, you have no idea what it’s like to be out on the streets late at night, in all kinds of weather!”
Matt smiled and said, “Actually, Tony I do have a very good idea because . . . because at one time in my life I was on the streets, and if a very kind man hadn’t taken me to a shelter, I don’t know where I would be today. I was adopted by a very good woman, a widow, and later when she married, her husband adopted me as her son, and that’s why my name is Fishbein, and not Jenkins.”
“I guess we’ve both been lucky, sir,” said Tony with a grin.
At the same time Gary was talking with the Lombardis. “So, you want to be foster parents? Are you both willing to take on the responsibilities?”
Luigi said firmly, “We are, Sir. Mama and I feel this boy has come into our lives like a miracle. You see, our son Antonio . . . Antonio . . . died a year ago of meningitis. Mama and I feel as thought we have been given another boy to love and take care of/”
Rosa added, “Last night Papa and I talked and we even discussed how wonderful it would be if we would be allowed to . . . to . . adopt Tony as our legal son. “
Seeing a surprised look on Gary’s face, she hastened to add, “We know he is not our Antonio, and we are not going to try to make him into another Antonio. We want to love him for himself. . . . (and here Mama had to wipe a tear away).”
It was time for all parties to gather back in the conference room. Alicia Heckman, looking very business like in a severely tailored suit, but with a smile playing about her lips, asked everyone to sit down. Al and mark had been chatting quietly in a corner, but they too came and sat down to learn what Tony’s fate would be.
“Mr. Fishbein, what can you tell me about your discussion with Tony?” Mrs. Heckman asked.
“Well, ma’am, I have determined that it would be in the best interests of the young man to remove him from the custody of this so-called church, and to place him in a normal home environment, with foster parents.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fishbein, Mr. Dixon what have you decided?”
Gary spoke up, “Ma’am, it is my firm opinion that the Lombardis would be very good foster parents, and that if the foster parenting works out and the Lombardis should wish to adopt Tony Jones, they permitted to do so.”
At this point, it would be harder to determine who had the broadest grin on his or her face—Tony, Mama, or Papa Lombardi, or Al and Mark or Matt and Gary.
“Somehow, gentlemen, I thought you might come to that conclusion, and I have already prepared a document placing Tony Jones in the foster care of Luigi and Rosa Lombardi. And now Alicia Heckman’s grin was broader than anyone else’s. “I am going to suggest that the Lombardis, accompanied by Officers Mark Taylor and Al Johnson, go to Tony’s former residence and retrieve any of his belongings he might want.”
She went on, “It’s now 11:00. I suggest that you move quickly, because in two hours’ time I am calling the District Attorney and ask him to begin an investigation into this ‘church,’ its financial status and whether or not children have been exploited or abused.”
There were smiles, thanks, and hugs. Tony went to Mrs. Heckman’s desk, and said, “Thank you, ma’am. I never thought about being adopted, but if I am I promised you I will do everything I can to make Papa and Mama proud of me.”
And what happened next? Professional, calm, detached Alicia Cross Heckman got up and gave Tony a hug, and said, “I know you will, Tony, I know you will.”
Well, the new family (or “almost family” if you insist on being technical) and Al and Mark got into the car and drove to “The Church of the Eternal Flame of the Holy Truth.”
They all got out of the car and knocked on the door. A burly man came to the door, and said, “Oh, there you are, Tony. Why are these people all here? Have you gotten into trouble again?”
Mark Taylor informed the housemaster (whose name we have not invented, and won’t trouble to, because he won’t appear in this story again), that Tony Jones was being removed from his custody, and that Tony was to be allowed to go in and retrieve any of his belongings that he wanted.
“Well, OK, the kid is never gonna be a true disciple of the Church. Good riddance to him, but say, Tony, did you bring the five dollars you were supposed to earn yesterday?”
At this, Luigi Lombardi (who was a quiet well spoken man in real life, who spoke excellent English) drew himself up to his full six feet and looking like an ancient Roman paterfamilias (or maybe like the "godfather" of a mafia gang) walked up to the housemaster, and said “Listen here, you louse master, or whatever you call yourself, my Tony is a good boy, and you just keepa your trap a-shut, or I gonna punch de daylights out of you, and if I hear that you have abused any of the bambinos here, I'm gonna a-come back with some of my boys, and we gonna kick the shit out of you. Understand?”
Mama Lombardi almost laughed at her husband’s fake Italian accent, and at his threats of violence, because her Luigi was the kindest gentlest man on Earth, but she said, “Ehhhh, Mister, I put the evil eye on you. Wadda you think of that you paisan?”
Tony ran into the house to retrieve one or two possessions, primarily a photograph album with pictures of his mother and father.
“Officers, these people have threatened me with assault. Do something.”
Al looked at Mark and said, “Threats? Did you hear any threats?”
“No, Al, I surely did not.”
Tony came back clutching his album, and he and Mama and Papa got in the back seat of the car while Al and Mark got in the front.
As they drive away, Luigi said to Tony, “Did you like my act, Tony?”
“You were acting? I believed you. I think I’m going to do my homework and keep my room very neat!”
Laughter filled the car and didn’t stop until it got to the Blue Willow Chinese Restaurant. Before they went in, Luigi turned to Al and Mark and said, “You gentlemen are our guests for lunch, and before you say one word of argument, I, Don Luigi Lombardi, say, you willa not pay one dollar for dissa lunch, or . . . or . . Mama will put the evil eye on you.”
More laughter. The group went into the restaurant, and were seated right away because Papa had called the restaurant and made reservations. Everyone had a delicious meal of won-ton soup, egg rolls, butterfly shrimp, braised duckling, and chicken egg foo yung. For dessert, the waiter brought tiny cups of sherbet and fortune cookies.
The party sat at a rectangular table with Papa and Mama at each end, and Tony on one side, and Al and Mark on the other. Oddly enough, once or twice Al thought he felt Mark’s leg pushed against his . . . but that couldn’t be, could it. But then a couple of times, Mark thought he felt Al’s leg against his. But no! only in his dreams. . .
After lunch, Papa settled the bill, and left a generous tip. They got in the car for the trip back to the Lombardi’s store. When they were about two blocks away, Mama said, “Listen, do you hear music—trumpets?”
As they drew nearer, Papa said, “Yes, I do. I hear it. Is it a parade? The Fourth of July isn’t for four or five weeks.”
Two policemen on motorcycles pulled, up, one on either side of the car, and a police car pulled in front of them, as if it were escorting them. Mark rolled down his window, and saw a friend from the station. “What’s going on,” he asked.
“It’s all right, Mark, just drive slowly, there seems to be some obstruction around the corner.”
“That’s our street, Papa? Do you think there might be anything wrong at the store?” Mama asked.
At this the motorcycles and the two cars turned the corner, and everyone saw. . .
(Shall I end the chapter here, Readers? No, I shouldn’t, I couldn’t, I wouldn’t do that!)
Everyone saw a crowd of people outside the Lombardi store. Some people were waving flags, some were waving handkerchiefs, and the whole crowd was cheering. A group of men were playing Sousa’s Stars and Stripes Forever, on trumpets, tubas, and cornets. Across the street hung a banner, “Welcome home, Papa, Mama, Tony.”
The cars stopped, and everyone got out. The policemen on the motorcycles and in the car were grinning. Mrs. Himmelfarb came up to the group and said, “Papa and Mama Lombardi, for years you have been wonderful neighbors and friends, and we just wanted to say . . to say . . . We love you.” And now Mrs. Himmelfarb truly was speechless. She gave Mama a hug, and she gave Papa a hug. She gave Tony a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Everyone crowded around to shake hands, to hug, to kiss, and to greet Tony. Then a priest came forward, Father Fitzgerald from St. Joseph’s Catholic Church. “Luigi and Rosa, and Tony, I just want to give you a blessing, and maybe say a prayer for your happiness today and tomorrow and all the years to come.”
“Dear Lord,” he prayed, “Bless this family as they begin a new life together. When clouds appear, help them to remember that the sun is always there behind the clouds. Bless these neighbors. May they continue to live in a caring community. In His Name, Amen.”
After the prayer, the neighbors announced that this was an official block party and there would be food and drink and ice cream and watermelon.
Everyone had a wonderful time. The Lombardis and Tony were beaming as the activities finally started to wind down.
Later that afternoon, when Mark and Al were driving home, Mark said, “Al, I have
a question to ask. I don’t know what you will say, but please don’t laugh at me,
because I ask this in all seriousness.”
“I won’t laugh, Mark. What is the question?”
“Well, Al, I was wondering if . . .
To be continued:
To be continued.
Feedback always
welcome:
Author’s Comments: What do you think Mark’s question will be? I bet you will never guess what he wants to ask. What do you hope he will say? I’m always interested in hearing from my readers.
Ed’s emendations: Dear readers, I have already told our illustrious author what I thought Mark’s question might be. Poor Tony. He is probably going to be the most scrutinized kid in the neighborhood but I am betting that Mark and Al will make sure that he will come out of this wonderful environment standing very tall. Heck, with a mafia godfather and a mother giving evil eyes, who wouldn’t be going to the bathroom in their pants?
Will’s last words (positively the last for today): Yes, Ed did guess what the question was going to be? Can you put your thinking caps on and come up with the answer? Let me know.
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Posted: 01/11/08