Date: Sat, 27 Oct 2001 13:22:49 -0400 From: Tom Cup Subject: Kevin - Series Chapter 22 The Lion of Bolognia -- Kevin Part 2 by Tom Cup Copyright 2000, 2001 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 youth/youth or adult/youth 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. ************************************************************************ This story is part of the Tom Cup Library Please visit the member's area of the Tom Cup Library for "The Lion of Bolognia" (Kevin) "Calvin" "Angel" "David's Christmas Present" (Revised with new additions and chapters by Tom Cup); "A Place Called Home" "In Memory of Steve" "Tommy -- The Return "Stephen Miller's Journal" "Terms of Living" and many more series and short stories! Thank you for your support, and as always, your e-mail is much appreciated. ************************************************************************ To support this and other stories by Tom Cup, join the Tom Cup Library at: http://tomcup.iscool.net Check out the New Coming of Age Film Section! *********************************************************************** Kevin Part 3 Aftermath Chapter 4 Prodigal Lives >From the biography of "The Lion of Bolognia": Antonio thrust himself up into me. His palms gripped my thighs as I squatted over him, rising and falling on him, riding us both toward frenzied climax. I loved looking down into his wide-eyed amazement. His look was always the same. It said, I never knew it could feel this good. I loved making Antonio feel good. It made me feel good when he was happy and satisfied. "Oh God," he grunted as he tried to stretch himself into me. He trembled and shook. His fingers and palm crushed down on me, planting me firmly upon him. I opened myself to him, circling his hardened, hot, flesh as he jettisoned his heated liquid into me. It was after a night of heated passion that Antonio, in the after glow of orgasm, mentioned Monica. I'd seen her around, a few times, at one seasonal event or another, and for the most part, thought her, at least worthy of conversation. She was bright and quick in conversation and had a smile so genuine that it showed in her eyes. Yeah, I liked her. It was Dominic that I didn't like, her older brother by a year. Start talking with Monica and he was there within moments. She would grow quiet, as the light slowly dimmed in her eyes. We lay naked together -- Our legs were entangled, the smells of our raw sex still pungent in the air -- I stared at Antonio. He stared at the ceiling, animated, as he told me of Monica. ***** Dominic didn't hate the Bolognia Family because they were rich or because they were powerful -- his family was rich and powerful -- he hated them because they were beautiful, loved by others, and loved each other with such vibrant colors of light and life, that Da Vinci's works paled in comparison. He'd watched as the Bolognia new addition, joined beside Tony, causally slipped his hand into elder Bolognia's. To Dominic's surprise, Tony looked lovingly into the boy's eyes, smiled, excused himself from the previous conversation, and then, sat quietly listening and laughing at whatever the boy was saying to him. He ignored his guest in favor of a boy; his newly adopted son. Dominic knew he should admire Tony's show of affection for the boy but he couldn't, he wouldn't allow himself to love anything about the Bolognia Family. They were his sworn enemy, though he dared not say so out loud. He'd been foolish enough to raise his voice to his father, in the presence of his family's men, but he dared not let the other families know what he was thinking. More importantly he needed to avoid having Tony's suspicions aroused. His father was right, why rouse a sleeping lion? He knelt at the family alter and prayed. He knew his anger was unjustified. His father had committed no sin. He believed this. His father was not that type of man. But Boss, the ex-Father, Tariano WAS the kind of man that could fall deeply in love. Dominic's anger surfaced because his father was not in love with his mother. Boss Tariano treated his wife with dignity and respect. He treated his two children in the same manner. His eyes never glowed with love though; that is, until, every so often, when he would look at Marie. Dominic had seen it only a few times, but he recognized the look immediately. This is the woman that stands between my father's love for my mother. This is the woman my father truly desires. And her children he wishes where his own. The seeds of hatred took root that day. The Bolognia family became a study for him. He learned as much as he could about them from public records -- not much there. They existed. -- he learned from gossip and hearsay, he learned by watching. It was in the watching that he began to understand the danger they held for him, and the power they held over his father. They were free with their love for one another. Tony would spontaneously pass Marie a kiss on the cheek, Antonio would causally put his arm around Tony or the "little one"...Kevin. Kevin was as free in his expressions of love for them as the caress of the sun on dancing water or the fragrance of the flowers kissing the spring breeze. Kevin he despised. This new addition fit so easily into their lives it appeared that he had always been there. Dominic hated him for that, for appearing to belong in the midst of love. None of them deserved love when they deprived him of the love that was rightfully his. Dominic focused on Marie as she danced, twirled, from one conversation to another. If their love wasn't enough to drive him mad then their beauty was. What artist had ever assembled such a cast of portraits, of such dynamic presence, color, movement and life, that every face near them seemed plain and ordinary? Dominic wanted to weep when he beheld them. Let one of them enter a room and every eye scanned that direction. Put more than one in a room and all attention flowed to them. His admiration for them fed his hatred. It was unreasonable, he clearly understood, but because he would not love them, he hated them. He begged God to show him away through the darkness that captured his heart. When Dominic noticed that Antonio was interested in his sister, his first reaction was to destroy his room. His mother frantically looked on, wringing her hands, praying to the saints for intervention, not understanding what was driving her first born mad. Somewhere within his madness he became aware that he could use the situation to get closer the Bolognia family. It was an epiphany. God, at long last, answered his prayers. He laughed in joy at the miracle of God's intervention. God had spoken and he would obey. He was sitting, laughing, on the floor of a disheveled room when Boss Tariano arrived home. Tariano's wife ushered him away from his son's room and into the den, speaking calming words to the husband she loved and respected. ***** Barb fell across her bed. She needed to get up and shower. Every pore in her body seemed to be clogged with oil. Her clothes and hair seemed to be weighted down in grease. One thing's for sure, she thought, I know how to fry a fucking French fry. She rolled wearily to a seated position, and then, bent to untie her shoes. She could use a cigarette but had decided to give them up. They reminded her too much of the life she was trying to leave behind. Besides, there was no smoking in the halfway house and she didn't have the money to support the habit anyway. It had been an exhausting day. First the meeting with Richy... Rich... I must remember to call him Rich. He doesn't like to be called Richy. She wondered if he had always hated being called Richy or if he hated it now because it reminded him of the past -- as smoking reminded her. She thought of her other children and wondered what she would learn of their likes and dislikes. She kicked off her shoes and gathered her things for the walk down the hall to the bathroom. As she bathed, her mind went back to Kevin. She had been terrified making the call to the Bolognia residence. She prepared a speech just so she wouldn't sound like an idiot when Mr. Bolognia answered the phone. Tony didn't answer of course, William did. It took her a few minutes to realize that he was the butler. A butler. My kid's living in a house with a fucking butler. She wasn't bitter, or awed, or any of the myriads of emotions one might think. She was grieved. Not because she didn't want the best for Kevin, she honestly thought he desired anything and everything good life could give him, but because she believe that it lessened the chance that he would speak with her. "Master Kevin is indisposed at the moment," William said, "I will inform him of the news and of your request." That was it. Barb believed that the man would be true to his words. She had no reason to believe otherwise, but she wished that she could have said something to Kevin, anything. Well, either he'll call or he won't. I can't get caught up in feeling sorry for myself. I got to get on with it. I have other children too. Donna and Marcy's foster mom suggested that she supervise Barb's visit so that Barb didn't have to pay to have a Court Appointed Supervisor. Barb might have been offended if she hadn't been able to admit that she needed the help. She did need help and lots of it. So when it came to setting up Robby and Jimmy's visitation, she immediately asked the foster parents to be the supervisors. They readily agreed. Barb dried her hair with a towel and began brushing it. Three loud knocks came through the bathroom door. "You gonna be in there all night?" "Just a minute," Barb answered, "I'm almost done." "Damn, I hope so." She would meet the girls after work tomorrow. She worked the eleven to seven shift today and the six to two shirt tomorrow. She loved the way McDonald's staggered the shifts, in the name of fairness, only to keep you so off balance, and weary, that you only had enough energy to work. She realized that it was the prefect job to keep her from straying from her goals. She would have enough time to come back to the halfway house, and change clothes, before taking the bus to the Coleman's neighborhood. Their house was just two blocks from the bus stop. She could spend a couple hours with the girls before catching the six forty-five bus to her seven-thirty AA meeting. She left the bathroom, passed an angry looking, glassy eyed, red head that grunted at her. She closed the door to her room, leaned against it, closed her eyes and sighed. The woman in the hall would no doubt funk her next drug test. Barb would not. She had too many things to do. ***** "I want to pick up a few things from Lords and Taylor," Kevin said to William, "Will you come along." "I find it hard to believe you would be more proficient in your choices with me along." "I didn't say I wanted you to help me make choices, I asked if you would come along." William wasn't given to familiarity. Familiarity wasn't part of his job description. But Kevin had a way of changing things. That was evident from the first moment he arrived in the house. It wasn't that he was disruptive. The house's routine went forth with its usual effectiveness, William saw to that. No, he wasn't disruptive but he did change things. William first noticed the change in Fran. It simply wasn't like her not to complain at staff meetings. She never voiced a word of discontent to those outside of staff, she always appeared chipper and gay to the masters of the house -- she was a professional -- but she could be rather a bore when the staff gathered after the long days work, to have their meal in quiet among fellows. She complained that she would return to the kitchen, no matter what time, after all was put away and cleaned up, and low and behold, one of THEM had been in the kitchen making a mess! But William noticed that no such complaints issued from her mouth since Kevin arrived. "Forgive me Fran," he said away from the others, "but there is a matter of concern to me that I wish to discuss with you privately." "Of course." "It is a delicate matter and I do not wish to offend anyone." "I should pray not." "Yes, you see it concerns you." "Me? Whatever do you mean?" "Well, not to put TO fine a point on it, you have not had ILL to say about our duties or ANYTHING for that matter since..." "Aye, since that angel of a boy came to live among us." "Kevin? Whatever do you mean?" "Are you daft man? The boy is a charm. And you don't have to take my word for it. Ask any of the staff and they'll tell you the same. He brings joy to ones steps." William simply did not know how to respond to the statements that were made. He didn't have to respond. Fran showed him what he had seen and not acknowledged. "Ask yourself this, what room in the house remains the least trouble for you? Hmmm... I'd wage a month's salary it's master Kevin's. Do you know what I found? He roams the house, he does. After everyone is off to bed. He comes to the kitchen, I've seen him with my own eyes, and if there is any mess, ha! he clears it away, he does." William thought of his duties. She was right. Kevin was almost a ghost amongst them. Instead of the work increasing because there was another teenager among them, their workload had become lighter. There was lightness to everyone's step, not just Fran's. "We can't...." "Don't you go throwing a wrench in the works," Fran interrupted, "And don't be thinking we are taking advantage of the boy. I confronted him, yes, I did. Told him it wasn't his place to do servants works. He looked me in the eye and said, `A good son lifts his parent's burdens.' And then he laughs, hugs me and kisses me on the cheek. Kisses me...." She fought the tears. William pretended not to notice but he was moved by the story. "So I tell you William Prescott Chamberlain, you so much as cause that boy a moment's hesitation and you'll have the hell to pay!" William smiled. "Of course it would be my pleasure to accompany you, master Kevin." ************************************************************************ Send Comments to: tom_cup@hotmail.com To support this and other stories by Tom Cup, join the Tom Cup Library at: http://tomcup.iscool.net ***********************************************************************