Throughout the period in which Giovanni stood with me, I did not go out looking for adventures and this not because my brother was at my place, especially after we put the cards on the table with each other, but mainly because he, being faithful to his Silvano, was not interested in visiting the premises gay, much less going to cruise... So I took him around to do some plain tourism.
But when I accompanied him to the airport, with the promise to come back and visit me again maybe with his Silvano, I suddenly missed my short adventures.
In those three weeks I had forgotten my encounter with that boy that is with "Fido-Pablo" but now I felt the desire to see him again. I do not know why, certainly not for that fact he called himself by the name of a dog and not even for the collar and leash around his neck that rather bothered me. Maybe I felt, or caught a glimpse, or perhaps only fantasized but I imagined something in that kid that made me curious and I wanted to meet him again.
Thus I went back for a few days where I saw him, along the Cerrito, near Plaza de la Republica, but he was not there. I found other guys, and I also took some of them in an albergue transitorio. [a love hotel]
Then, one evening, I saw the boy. He was as usual sitting under a lamppost, wearing the same shorts and the same short black cloth vest, and the leash around his neck. I went towards him and stood beside the boy. As before, he did not look at me.
"Pablo?" I called softly.
Still without looking, he replied: "My name is Fido, not Pablo."
"To me you are Pablo. Did you already forget?" I asked then.
He looked up: "Oh, it's you, señor. You want me once again?"
Lifting the face towards me, I saw he had a bruise over one eyebrow and was a little swollen near the mouth, where there was also a wound.
"What happened to you, Pablo?" I asked him.
"Nothing. You want me or not?"
"Yes... Someone has beaten you? Who was it and why?" I asked him as he rose to his feet.
"It does not matter. Let's go." he said, sounding a bit dry.
I thought that if I brought him to the love hotel, the best he could do was to take a shower, but the boy needed to be 'medically' treated. Therefore, contrary to the rule that I imposed on myself, I decided to take him to my apartment, so I could treat him properly.
"Yes, let's go." I said. We walked. I looked at him: "But, take off the collar, I do not like it."
"Pablo" took it off without saying anything.
"Where are you taking me?" He asked, but not alarmed, when he saw that we were not going towards the love hotel.
"At my place." I replied. Then I asked him: "You do not trust me?"
"Trust you? When you are hungry, you do not think if you have to trust somebody or not, señor."
"How long has it been since you have eaten?"
"A little." he said with a shrug.
I took him home. I did not enter through the front door, as I did not want the janitor to see him. We passed through the garage and went up with the lift. To use the elevator you needed a key, so it was not controlled.
On entering the house, contrary to what I expected, the boy did not look around, but waited in the hallway, looking at the floor, the leash in his hand. I took him immediately to the bathroom, gave him my bathrobe to wear once he had cleaned up, and told him to give me his clothes to wash. He obeyed. As I heard the pelting water in the shower, I went to put his poor clothes in the washing machine. Next I went to get my first aid kit, then into the kitchen and began to prepare some food for "Pablo".
I prepared the table for him, and waited. He stood in the shower for half an hour. Finally I heard that he had shut off the water and soon after, he emerged from the bathroom. I called him and he came in the kitchen.
"Come here. First I take care of you, then you sit at the table and eat." I told him.
He came near me. He let me treat him in silence. From time to time his eyes looked at me, but when I, too, looked at him, he looked away and lowered his eyes. I gently spread some ointment around his eye, and then I disinfected the wound next to his mouth and applied a small plaster bandage.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?" I asked.
He did not answer. He just opened my bathrobe on his chest and showed me his shoulder - there was a cigarette burn!
"Oh my god! Who did this?" I asked.
"It does not matter..." repeated the boy.
"If you do not want to tell, is fine by me. But if I ask you, it means that I care. Also if you really were a dog, I would care..." I told him.
"Never mind, señor." he repeated.
I treated also that burn and put there another plaster. Next I pointed to the table.
"Sit down and eat. And if you want, there's more."
"I have to eat on the table?" he asked, almost startled.
"Sure, where else?" I answered without understanding the reason of that question.
"The dogs eat on the ground, the leftovers..." he said softly.
I went near him and lifted a hand towards his face. The boy took a slight step back, and for a moment his eyes looked at my hand with an expression of fear.
"Hey, Pablo... I do not want to hurt you..." I told him gently.
With my fingers I took his chin and lifted his head forcing him to look toward me. His eyes met mine and looked away once again.
"Look, Pablo..." I said softly, "... I do not want to hurt you, do not be afraid of me... Who did such a thing to you? Your relatives?"
Pablo shook his head from side to side.
"Your companions?"
He shook his head negatively again.
"A customer?" I asked him then.
He nodded vertically, silently, and looked away again.
"But why?"
"A dog... a customer has fun with him as he likes."
"But you're not a dog! And even a dog, however, must be respected."
"Not everyone thinks so, señor. Not many of my customers think so."
"Now eat. Sitting at the table... and using knife and fork, if you feel like it."
He sat down. He picked up knife and fork and began to eat. He cut the food into small pieces, chewed them for a long time, each time with a morsel of bread. I had put before him a pitcher of water and one of wine, but I noticed that from time to time he took some water and never touched the wine.
"You do not like the wine?" I asked.
"I never drank it, I do not know."
"Have some wine. If you've never drank, it is better that you drink a little, or it will make your head spin." I told him and put a drop of wine in the glass.
He lifted the glass to his lips and wetted them slightly, then with his tongue felt the taste. Then he took a small sip and drank it.
"You like?"
"Yes."
He continued to eat slowly. I took a chair and I sat at the table. He cleaned his plate with the bread until it was shiny as if it had been washed.
"Do you want to eat anything else?" I asked him then.
"Whatever you say, señor."
"But you, are you still hungry?"
He nodded.
I put more food on the plate. He resumed eating.
When he had finished it again, he asked: "Can I finish the wine, señor?"
"Sure, but just what I've put in the glass. I will not get you drunk." I told him.
He drank it in small sips. Next he put the glass down and stood there, staring at the empty plate.
"If you're still hungry... later I'll give you more. Okay?"
He nodded. Then next he gave me a quick glance.
"Now... you bring me on the bed and fuck me, señor?"
"No. Not yet, anyway. Come here..."
He got up and came beside me. I opened my legs, and the boy knelt in the middle of them and tried to open my pants.
"No..." I told him, took him under his armpits and made him get up.
He looked at me somewhat uncertain, but let me continue. I drew him to me, made turn him aside and on my leg with his legs between mine, and then I grasped his shoulders with one arm.
"Why you don't tell me what's your name?" I asked gently.
"Fido... or Pablo, as you like."
"Okay, okay. Tell me, Pablo, why do you go around with that collar? Why you play the dog? Why do you go with certain customers that... that hurt you?"
"What else can I do?"
"Not all boys who hustle do something like that, isn't it so?" I asked him.
"But we are too many, it is not easy to find customers. In this way, instead, it becomes a bit easier."
"Maybe so, but at what price? To get beaten so?"
"But at least I eat."
"Tonight you ate, right?"
"It... it had never happened to me before."
"But I am not the only one, right? There are others that respect you, even if they pay to take you to bed..."
"Respect, señor? For me? Those who have money only respect those who have money."
"But I respect you, Pablo."
"What do you want from me?"
"Nothing you do not want to give me..."
"My body, right?"
"If you do not want to give me your body, it's fine."
"But I need the money, so I must give you anything you want. I have no choice."
"I pay you the same, even if you do not give me your body. Got it?"
He looked at me suspiciously, "Where's the catch?" he asked, almost intimidated.
"There is no catch."
"And why you give me money if you do not fuck me?"
"Because... because you're a lost puppy, Pablo."
"A dog..."
"No, a man cub... Have you ever heard the story of Mowgli?"
"Who is he? A hustler that you've met?" he asked in a neutral tone.
I smiled: "No, it is the story of a boy who was raised by jungle animals, a pack of wolves, a bear, a black panther..."
"And then? They ate him, right?"
"No, they taught him to live, then he came back among the men, he met a beautiful girl, married her..."
"Ah, a fairy tale, not a true story."
"A sort of fairy tale."
"Do you believe in fairy tales, señor?"
"Yes and no. Not you?"
"No. My grandmother told me before she died."
"It's long that she is dead, your grandmother?"
"Yes, quite."
"And... your mother? Your father?"
"My mother is alive. My father, I do not know who he is."
"You live with your mother?"
"No."
"With whom?"
"Alone."
"Where?"
"In the street."
"The street is... a kind of jungle." I told him.
"But wolves, panthers and bears, in this jungle, devour people like me."
"In the jungle of Mowgli's story, there was a ferocious tiger, who ate men and animals. Almost everyone was afraid of her. But Mowgli defeated her."
"And then he married a girl?"
"Yes."
"I'm not interested in girls. And anyway no girl would want me."
"You like boys." I said.
"Men." He corrected me. "Some men." then corrected himself. Then he added: "But no one likes me."
"I like you." I said.
"My ass..."
"No, you."
"You do not know me. How can you say that you like me?"
"From what little you let me see."
"I have to undress?" he asked.
"I am not speaking of your body, that I've seen. I speak of you, as you're inside."
"Maybe when you turn your eyes I will steal something and run..." he said defiantly, still without looking at me.
"In my bathrobe?" I asked with a chuckle. "And then you have to pass in front of the janitor, who would not let you go, especially so clothed."
"Where are my clothes?"
"In the washing machine. It does it all by itself - washes, rinses and dries them. Before long they will be ready, if you want wear them."
"I've seen one."
"Who?"
"The washing machine. In the windows. You also have the TV?"
"Yes, it's in there. You want to watch some TV?"
"No... Sometimes it is on... in the windows. When there's a soccer match."
"You like soccer?"
He did not answer and shrugged. Then he said: "I like sand castles."
"Have you ever made one?"
"Once. A man came to the beach. His name was Machado. He has called us."
"To make a sand castle?"
"Yes it was big but then the rain came and made it crumble, and after it was just a pile of sand."
"It was nice?"
"Yes, while it lasted. But good things do not last long."
Unconsciously, I began to caress him. That boy gave me tenderness. "Pablo" misinterpreted my caress.
"You want to fuck me?" he asked.
"No... not yet. Even though I like you."
"When you want..."
"... I'll tell you." I concluded.
"If you want me here all night, you have to pay me twice. Even though you do not fuck me." said the boy.
"All right. Do you want the money right away?" I asked.
"Also after. I trust you."
"But you do not know me." I objected.
"It's true." he said.
"Then why do you trust me?"
"Maybe you're a wolf, señor... like in the story you told before."
"And if I were a tiger?"
"Before eating a man, the tiger offered him a dinner?" he asked.
I smiled: "No, she attacked them and killed them at once."
"Precisely."
"But you told me you do not believe in fairy tales, right?"
"Making the sand castle was like a fairy tale."
"Maybe that Machado was like Mowgli's bear."
"Maybe."
"Have you seen him again?"
"No."
"Why?"
"The other boys have sent me away, because they thought that I stole their customers."
"He went with boys, that Machado?"
"I do not know. With me, with others, he had not tried."
"For how many years you go with men?"
"Eight, nine years."
"Nine? How is that possible? Last time I thought you said that you are almost seventeen?"
"I started when I was eight years old."
"Eight? But you were a child..."
"Some men like to fuck children. The more they are little the more they like."
"Good God! How can this be..." I said in disgust to the idea, and feeling pity for the boy.
"There are a lot of men like that. They use you, make of you all they like, but then, before you can come, before you have the hairs, they throw you away, so..."
"To me you're even a bit too young... Eight years..."
"Several of us hustlers have started early, even at six..."
"Good God!" I repeated, "We should put them all in jail and throw away the key, those bastards."
"And then, who gives us something to eat, then?"
"But eight... six years old children..." I protested.
"You get used to it. We get used to everything, absolutely everything, we street boys. Also to be beaten... when you're hungry."
"And also burned with a cigarette..." I added, shaking my head.
"And burned with a cigarette." the boy nodded.
"But where is the police? The authorities? They do nothing?"
"There was also a police captain, and there was also a minister or something like that, among those men."
"My god... my god..." I almost groaned, passing a hand over my eyes.
For a moment he looked at me again, then said, quietly: "Also God is just a fairy tale."
After a short silence, he said: "Someone was nice... a few, though. And even those, when you were just ten, twelve, they chased you away... like a mangy dog... They were no longer interested in you."
"And so you decided to become... a dog..." I said then.
"Some people like to have a dog, at least for a while."
It was getting late and I felt tired, not physically, but because of that conversation made in bits and pieces.
"Listen, Pablo: now we go to sleep. Tomorrow morning we will have a nice breakfast... unless you want to eat some more before going to bed."
"Whatever you say, señor."
"But you, are you hungry?"
"So far not too much. Tomorrow morning is fine."
I made him get up, and I too got up. I took my wallet and counted twenty pesos.
He shook his head: "Tomorrow morning is fine..." he repeated softly.
"All right. I put them here on the table. Tomorrow morning you take them. Now let's go."
I wondered whether to have him sleep in the room where Giovanni slept, or in my room with me. I opted for this second solution. I took him in the room. I undressed, and he took off my bathrobe. I climbed on the bed and gave him space, inviting him with a gesture to come on the bed. He also climbed on the bed beside me.
"What do you want to do?" he asked.
"Sleep." I replied.
"You do not want to fuck me?"
"No, not now. Let's sleep."
He shrugged his shoulders. I turned off the light and covered our bodies with a sheet. We were both lying on our back; our bodies were not touching. After a few minutes I heard his regular, deep breathing - he had fallen asleep almost immediately. It took me several minutes to fall asleep, but I also finally managed to let myself go into the arms of sleep.