Date: Fri, 15 Jul 2005 01:51:06 -0400
From: SSch191950@aol.com
Subject: The Lizard, part 4, chapter 7/9

THE LIZARD, part 4: Inverno
by Stefan


Comments are welcome

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7
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In February the reburial of Masaccio's corpse was finished. He had now
found his final resting place in the chapel of Holy Catherine in the Roman
church of San Clemente. Luca searched the Internet for more information to
give to Alessandro. The computer had been a gift from his family for
Christmas. He knew that Marcello and Dante had participated in this and
this was the first sign for him that his brothers wanted to make peace with
him. Despite that they weren't really talking to him, Luca felt it was time
to do so. The brothers had changed the gym they attended and despite their
working out, they had given up dealing in drugs and being in their old
company. Raniero was dead and the hooligans at the casino had left their
old meeting place as soon as they had all been released from jail. It was a
relief for Luca as it was for his parents as well.

He remembered Christmas Evening when his mother had whispered that the
majority of the money for his gifts came from his brothers. Astonished
Luca's eyes had met Dante's who looked away. Marcello was suddenly very
busy with studying the instructions for it's use. Luca didn't know what to
say and since Dante wouldn't address him personally he got the first
opportunity to speak to him when they met in the bathroom. Luca couldn't
tell whether Dante had followed him there or not, but suddenly their eyes
met in the small mirror over the sink.

Luca's first impulse was to push him and run away, but then he pulled
himself together and withstood Dante's brown-eyed stare. He was his brother
after all. The one he had lived with through almost eighteen years and they
had been happy years. His older brothers had been a force he could rely
on. Until everything had changed from one day to the next.

"If you need help setting up the computer, call me", Dante said huskily.

Luca nodded, but he couldn't bring himself to force a smile onto his
face. Too much had happened. Dante was still looking. "I saw this guy
dying", he said then with low voice. "This morning."

Luca didn't know what to think. He knew that his brother's time at the
AIDS-hospital was actually over, but apparently they had decided to still
work there in their spare time. An amazing realization. With a beating
heart he stood and looked at his brother.

"Nobody deserves to die alone", Dante said almost coldly.

"I never noticed that you were very affected by Riefoli's death. You never
raised a finger for Sandro. You knew it was self-defence."

Dante closed his eyes and turned to the door. When he had gone out Luca
breathed out audibly. He didn't know what that was about. Perhaps it was
Dante's way of saying sorry.

Almost it seemed as if the house of Montori had found back it's peaceful
living together except that Luca still preferred to live in the room at
Palazzo Gondi. It had become his new home and there he was closer than ever
to Sandro.

He had passed the test for his driver's licence and was now able to drive
his friends where ever they wanted and above all, it wasn't difficult
anymore to visit Poggibonsi and Alessandro - if he was allowed to visit
him. Sandro never wrote and told him the reasons for all of his penalties,
and Luca worried. Alessandro had changed. What would happen when he was
released? Would they continue on as if nothing had happened?

There it was: a picture of Masaccio's tomb. It was a simple marble plate
with the inscription of the dates of his birth and death. He wondered if
Masaccio was happy that his body had finally found peace. He printed the
photo and listened to the screeching of the printer's needles. He had saved
the money he got from his apprenticeship to buy the printer and thought
lovingly for a moment of the lion's head he had started to carve from the
remaining lapis lazuli. There still was enough for an owl. Or should it be
a ring he could give to Alessandro when he was out? Luca wasn't able to
carve rings, but he could learn how to. Coppo spent more time with him than
it was necessary or usual. Perhaps because he felt that Luca could become a
good worker. Or artist, as Coppo called it. For him, every worker at the
Opificio was an artist, even Luca's brothers.

He heard the door open and shortly afterwards two arms embraced him from
behind. He smelled the familiar scent of darkness and Patchouli. Raffaele
was there, snuggling his face into Luca's hair. He came occasionally and
their relationship was based more on a friendship than on sex, despite Luca
feeling that Raffaele wanted more.

Luca turned. Raffaele had come from the barber's shop and had fresh violet
strands in his hair. Luca grinned at him.

"What are you doing?" Raffaele asked. "Sneaking about for naughty boy's
pictures on the Internet? What do you need that for, you have me."  He
dropped his jacket and the woollen scarf to the ground and was about to
take off his pullover.

"There's a photo of Masaccio's new tomb", Luca said hastily. Raffaele took
the printed sheet. "Nice. You think this Masolino-guy would be satisfied if
he knew?"

"I'm sure." Luca took the photo. "I want to send it Sandro. At least he's
responsible for this."  Raffaele grinned. His naked upper body gleamed in
the light of the lamp. "Actually you're responsible because you spilled
your coffee over the diary." He crouched down. "Are we going out tonight?
It's Friday night." He arched his dark eye brows expectantly.

"That's the reason you're slicked up from the barber and all? Up for a new
conquest?"  Raffaele gave him a kiss. "My conquest is you tonight, surely."

Luca sighed inwardly. As much as he wanted to be faithful, it didn't work
out. Raffaele was too cheerful, too carefree, too convinced that he would
win in the end and conquer Luca's heart before Alessandro Gondi was out of
prison.


The atmosphere was seething when they entered Tabasco Bar around
midnight. A mass of tangled, sweating bodies, dancing to deep-dull, yet
melodious techno-beats. The basses hummed in Luca's stomach and the beats
thumped directly in his cock. A heat-wave of testosterone and adrenaline
flooded over him as he pulled off his anorak and pullover, gave it to the
bartender who put them into a separate room. Sharp whistling cut the room
when the dancer entered onto the small stage in front of dozens of small
black and white monitors showing fingers penetrating butt holes, kissing
tongues and dripping mouths. Raffaele stood excitedly beside Luca and
finally caught the silver pants the dancer had shed. He whirled them
through the air and whistled with two fingers. The stomping of the rhythm
gave Luca a painfully strong hard-on and when the dancer dropped his final
clothing - his jock-strap - Luca almost shot into his pants. "Woo, hoo"
Raffaele was still waving, then he took Luca and kissed him as if there was
no tomorrow. Luca felt the iron between Raffaele's legs and
grinned. Tonight would be a hot night.

When they pushed themselves through the people, Luca was most surprised to
see Tristano with Vittorio. Vito never went to gay bars, especially not
when the average age was around eighteen. But from time to time he enjoyed
the familiar company. Florence's gay community knew each other, except for
some fresh meat arriving from time to time.

Vito's arms embraced Tristano. The stab of jealousy was brief and surprised
Luca. His night with Tris was in his heart forever - at least it was Luca
who had been the reason for Tris' internal coming out. And that night was a
pleasant night to remember. Then Tris stood a little out of breath in front
of Luca, beaming. He leaned in and kissed Luca's lips.

"Whoa", Luca said, "watch out for your policeman."

"He's gone to the loo. Where's Raffaele?"

"Buying us a beer." Luca knew that Tristano didn't agree with his
relationship with Raffaele but he never heard reproaches from him. Tris
knew all too well about the pleasures of love and sex to be cross with his
friend. They smiled at each other. "You look happy", Luca said finally.

"Of course! It's hard enough to get Vito into a club like this. But he
seems to enjoy himself. Perhaps he was keen to see the stripper."

On this cue Tristano was embraced from behind and Luca felt a pair of
black- burning eyes on him. Luca knew Vito wouldn't ask about Sandro
because he didn't want to give Luca a hard time. "I was indeed keen to see
the stripper", Vito murmured into Tris' ear. "I have an idea of what we'll
do when we're at home."

Tris had goose bumps and Luca grinned. It really seemed as if Tris had
overcome the horrid abuse he'd suffered. Raffaele returned with two
bottles. After a brief smile to Tris and Vito he dragged Luca away.

Luciano sat slumped in a corner of a red plush sofa, drinking and smoking
alone, by himself. He didn't seem to be interested in the least in the
activities going on around him. Lucas' heart was still beating too fast
from the rush of adrenaline while his cock had calmed down. He slid onto
the sofa next to Luciano. "Everything's all right?"

Luciano gave a thin smile. He looked haggard and unhealthy. "I'm supposed
to ask you that. Everything's all right? How's Alessandro?" He eyed
Raffaele who had followed Luca. "Your new boyfriend? Hi, Raffaele", he said
then listlessly. "How's Andrea?"

Luca ignored the question. "Sandro's all right. Only seventeen months to
go." Luca avoided pondering about the seventeen months. Life went on.

"Well, then." Luciano finished his whiskey.

"You shouldn't drink so much", Luca said.

"It doesn't make any difference anymore." Luciano lit another
cigarette. "I've AIDS."

"You've HIV", Luca insisted, wondering about the incorrect statement.

"No. It's got me finally."

Luca took a sharp breath. It was as if a mountain had collapsed over
him. "Are you sure?" he asked unnecessarily.

"Shall I give you a memo?" Luciano snapped. "Despite the pills and all. And
the docs had said that with this new treatment I still had years and years
to live." His laughter scratched in Luca's ears. He turned to Raffaele who
sat helpless. "So much for your dislike of rubbers", he said quietly.
Raffaele looked down.

"What are you doing now?" Luca asked.

"What I've always done. Waiting until the end. I lost my job a long time
ago. They don't want to work with a sick guy. They didn't even want to
touch me, acted as if I'd got the plague." Another burst of scratchy
laughter, then he swallowed the cigarette smoke wrong and started to
cough. "It's the plague indeed. Some say God has sent it to erase gays from
this planet. Perhaps they're right."

"They are not right", Luca said determinedly and stroked Luciano's back
"The doc gave you addresses of the AID organizations? They can help you
certainly."

"Yeah, certainly." Luciano looked into nowhere.

Luca didn't know what to say. Could he have fun now while somebody was so
hopeless? Luciano turned his head to him. "Go dancing with your
boyfriend. Enjoy your youth while as you can."

Luca saw Tristano waving from the dance floor. Vito looked too funny as he
tried to cope with Tristano's contortions and it made Luca laugh. Yeah,
there was always somebody dying while others had the time of their
lives. Another pair draw his attention: Sergio and Alfredo, the
call-boys. Though still dressed up for a fancy-dress ball at Venice, they
both clung together, as if there was nobody else. Luca knew from Tristano
that they had given up their occupation. Sergio now worked in his real
profession: barber and Alfredo had found an engagement at Teatro Verdi as a
costume designer. Tristano had told him that Sergio had done it only for
Alfredo's sake. That he should never be in danger again.

Luca gave Luciano a smile and shoved Raffaele into the mesh of dancing
guys.



              * * *



Raffaele had become his confidante. Surprisingly he could talk to him about
all the things deeply hidden in his soul. Not even with Rosso had he been
able to lay down his deepest thoughts; due to the fact that Rosso didn't
play on the same team, and some thoughts you can only discuss with kindred
spirits only. Raffaele was informed about Alessandro's faked marriage and
the reasons for that. Luca had shown him photos of Anastasia with little
Matteo in her arms. Leoni had gained even more weight and cared nothing
about it. She had settled down into the daily routine in Arrigo's palazzo,
going out with her friends, but was careful that nobody saw her with her
changing boyfriends. At least while she still was Alessandro Gondi's wife
and had to think about the reputation of the Gondi-family.

In Spring Raffaele accompanied him on his walks into Fiesole's hills,
gathering flowers and herbs they later put between sheets to dry them. Luca
had caught Raffaele several times standing in front of the white lily Luca
had framed and hung on the wall, but he never asked about the
secret. Probably he could figure out the connection between Prince of the
Lilies and the dried flower himself.

They made a brief stop at Bellosguardo, where Raffaele's family lived, and
went on into the awakening nature. Another Scoppio del Carro had passed,
this time with Vito upon a horse, full dressed in clothes of the 15th
century, watching over the crowd of people. Another anniversary of Luca's
and Alessandro's first meeting had gone. Raffaele had become Luca's
shadow. People became used to it and forgot about Alessandro Gondi, the
Prince of the Lilies, dwelling in a jail at Poggibonsi.  Occasionally Luca
met one of his old friends who asked about Alessandro and whether they
could visit him. They were talking about the old times when Alessandro had
been their leader in doing nonsense and being a plague for the town. Those
times were over. Alessandro's letters meanwhile filled eight shoe boxes
that Luca kept in a wardrobe.

When the first qualifying matches started for the Calcio in Costume that
Alessandro's Quartiero had won two years ago, Marcello and Dante had been
there in the first place. They won for their team and would attend the
final on St. John's Day in June.

On the day of the final match of the Gioco Alessandro felt very
depressed. He knew from Luca that the Quartiero of Santa Croce was playing
against his own Quartiero of San Giovanni. Impatiently he sat in front of
the TV in the common room and waited for the local news. Perhaps they would
say which quarter had won. Melancholic he remembered the day when he had
been tackled by Raniero and Luca's brothers were all over him. He
remembered the heat and the scraping sand, the blood and the pain. And the
triumph when he had scored the most goals. It was worth the broken toes and
nose.

Slowly his hand slid over the hump at the bridge of his nose. The scar in
his left brow was also still to be seen. He remembered the time after; the
holidays at the sea. And Leoni's bombshell that changed everything. Little
Matteo was now fifteen months old and would learn how to walk on his soft
feet. Alessandro wasn't sure why he was affected by this, after all Matteo
wasn't his son. But he felt responsible nonetheless. For him and for
Leoni. He wondered where they would be now if Alessandro hadn't been
arrested. Probably gone a long time ago. The will of his late father had
been fulfilled, and the inheritance was waiting for Alessandro when he
returned to Firenze. But what did it mean to him? Nothing. He wasn't sure
what to do afterwards. His study dragged along. He felt no enthusiasm to
continue. Who would engage an ex-prisoner and entrust him with tourists?

And he had another problem: the new prisoner, Tito Boni, sentenced for
arson, bodily injuries and attempted manslaughter. This made him more
interesting in the odd hierarchy of the establishment. He tried to behave
well, but Alessandro saw the gleaming brutality behind his baby face. A
face that matched Pietro Zardi's, bald headed and tattooed all over. Both
had hit it off quickly, much to Ivano's misfortune who was now pouting and
feeling drawn to Alessandro. Ivano had apparently a short memory,
considering the incident months ago when Alessandro had left Mario's house
and had been attacked by Pietro and Ivano in the fields. Alessandro by all
means hadn't forgotten it. That Ivano would make friends with a 'faggot'
showed Ivano's isolation. Alessandro thought him a pain in the ass. He
couldn't bear the toady-ness, although it flattered him at the beginning.

Mario couldn't help it. He was a dreamer, still thinking that he could save
the world and make the people sane. Tito Boni had become a nightmare for
Lauro, the small kleptomaniac. More than once Alessandro had been Lauro's
rescuer which annoyed Tito and Pietro to no end. Alessandro felt there was
something cooking up behind his back.

Absorbed in his brooding he missed when someone had switched the channel
and was watching a daft film. Annoyed Alessandro wrested the remote control
and switched back to the local news. The other protested.

"Next time you'll ask before", Alessandro snarled and listened to the news
announcer, announcing a heat wave for the next days over the valley of the
Arno. Then there was a glimpse of a dusty playground, and a triumphant
howling when a decorated calf was carried away by green and golden dressed
guys, covered all over in sand and dust and blood.

Alessandro leaned back. So, his Quartiero made it again. Pity for Luca's
brothers he thought oddly. They would be pissed. Then he pressed the remote
control into the other's hand. "Have fun." Alessandro went out. In the hall
he found Lauro, sitting upon the bench, reading a letter. His fingers
trembled slightly.

Alessandro sat next to him and watched his face. His eyes were
bloodshot. "What happened?" he asked.

Lauro didn't answer.

"Hey", Alessandro touched Lauro's arm. "Bad news?"

"My brother died."

"Oh." Alessandro didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, mate. But we must go
now, it's bedtime." He tried to pull Lauro up but he resisted. Unexpected a
stream of tears flooded from Lauro's eyes and Alessandro flopped back onto
the bench. "I know it's terrible, mate", Alessandro stuttered. "You should
talk about it with Mario. Or the priest next Sunday." He
hesitated. "Why... how did he die?"

"On the branch of a tree. With a rope around his neck." Lauro's voice was
hard to hear. He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Alessandro gave
him a paper tissue from his pocket. "That's horrible", he said. "Why?"
Committing suicide was unimaginable to Alessandro. Those actions simply
didn't exist in his world.

Lauro, helpless, shook his shoulders and sniffed again. The stream of tears
didn't subside. Alessandro looked up for help. "Wait here. I'll be back in
a second."

He went to Mario's office and entered without knocking. Mario sat in front
of his computer typing a report. "Lauro needs help."

Mario turned and removed his glasses. "What happened?"

"He's got a letter. His brother died."

Mario cursed and rose. "Emilio!" he shouted. "How come a letter passed
unnoticed?"

Emilio, an elderly guy who had seen and heard too much in this prison,
peered around the corner and came closer. "What letter?"

But Mario waved him off and hurried along the corridor to Lauro's cell.


Alessandro went straight into his own cell, gathered his clothes and
vanished in the direction wash room.

Tito was there, occupying a shower, fixed on the walls of the large,
rectangle room. And - as always nowadays - his buddy Pietro Zardi. Pietro
nudged Tito, giggling. "You remember when I told you about Elmo and his
games?" Pietro's Piggy-Dick-face grinned at Alessandro. Tito didn't
laugh. Actually he never laughed. He only raised his cheeks and revealed
something similar to a wolfish grin. Alessandro stepped under the shower
opposite to Tito and examined him from head to toe. His upper arms were
tattooed with a spider, looking as nasty as Shelob lurking in the tunnel of
Cirith Ungol, and a woman's head with long, black hair. His broad chest was
covered with an eagle, spreading it's wings. Elmo had the longest cock
Alessandro had ever seen, but Tito wasn't that bad either.

Actually he should have been aroused to no end, but there was nothing
stirring in Alessandro's groin. Perhaps he had forgotten how to get a
hard-on in a boy' s presence and was instead too used to his own hand. Tito
soaped himself while trying to copy the lascivious movements of a table
dancer. The eagle's wings spread and faltered with each
movement. Alessandro saw that the glands of his cock had a silver
piercing. He grinned into Tito's face and turned demonstratively.

Tito's wolfish grin fell. "You only get a hard-on when you fuck Mario, eh?"
he shouted over the water's rush. Pietro hooted with laughter. He rubbed
his hanging arse on Tito's leg who pushed him away. "Stop that, faggot", he
hissed.

Like a flash Alessandro turned. "You wanna try it?" Unconsciously
Alessandro took the soap - Luca's soap - and rubbed it all over his cock
until it rose, became hard and ready. Then he stepped out from under the
shower and went directly to Tito. "You wanna try it out?" he repeated, not
blinking, his face cold as marble. He pressed Tito to the wall where they
stood head to head and cock to cock. "If you don't keep your mouth shut,
I'll stuff my cock into it and I swear you'll whine for more."

Pietro laughed hysterically out loud. Tito's eyes were closed into
slits. "You would never dare, fag", he shouted and pushed Alessandro
harshly away. Alessandro slid on the slippery tiles, but came to a halt
without falling. "You're just a sissy, not able to face a real man" Tito
hissed.

"I'd never dare? I'm not a real man?" Alessandro jumped almost up to Tito
and hit him with the back of his hand. Tito bumped his head on the tiles
and groaned.

"That's from the fag. Sissy."

Tito slid down and sat slumped under the water stream, wiping the back of
his head. Pietro gave him such a baleful glare that Alessandro shivered
involuntarily. Tito looked at his bloody fingers. "You bastard", he hissed.

Alessandro hurried to leave the room and scantily rinsed off his penis at
the pissoir. The shower room was filling up. The time of shutting down was
getting quickly closer. Alessandro looked for Lauro but didn't see
him. Ivano asked him to wait for him, but Alessandro went away into his
cell and waited for the warder. As he heard the familiar sound of the
rattling bunch of keys and the locks almost noiseless turned, Alessandro
stood up in front of his little mirror over the sink. His legs
trembled. What he had done in the shower room tolerated no return. He had
attacked Tito and this meant nothing else but war. Nobody could help him
here. Not Mario, not Benno, no wardens, no director.

Alessandro had had enough of the needy gangs of thugs. He simply didn't
belong here. But he had to survive. He rummaged in his toilet bag and found
his razor. Blades were not allowed, so he had to put up with this electric
monstrosity. His growth of beard was only sparse so the blades were
relatively sharp. He draw a line over his skull. Twice again and his locks
fell into the sink. He shaved until only a millimetre-long stubble covered
his head. Alessandro bared his teeth. Offer no grounds for attack. He swept
the locks from the sink into the bucket standing below. Luca would have a
fit. But it was nothing that wouldn't grow again.


The next morning a parcel arrived from Luca along with more soap - vanilla
and honey; no wonder he was considered a poof - Alessandro thought, grimly
grinning. Nivea cream for his skin and toothpaste and other useful
things. A folder appeared at the bottom with more dried flowers. On top was
a little blue flower, a Non-ti-scordar-di-me. Forget-me-not. Alessandro
almost sobbed. How could he.


"Amore,

This is going to hurt you, but you should hear it from me instead of from
somebody else. I wasn't alone when I gathered the
Non-ti-scordar-di-me. Raffaele was with me. I met him on your birthday,
when I felt very lonely. People say he has become my shadow. You once said
to me that I should look for another.

You said I shouldn't wait for you. I do. But it doesn't help the fact that
I'm lonely. I feel so abandoned without you. Raffaele knows about you and
me and that he has no chance. He takes it nonetheless and waits and is
around and helps me through.

The dictionary says that the flower's name is myosotis what means nothing
else than "mouse's ear". But I like the legend of the talking flower
more. I hope you will pin it next to the other flowers and whenever you
look at it you'll remember me. I do wait for you.

When can I visit you next? The brothers were pissed that they didn't win
the Gioco. Dante's got a chipped bone in his nose, he was bleeding
horridly. Rosso and Tris send their love as well as Giano and Tino. Have
you heard from Leoni?

All my love.

Luca"


So, Luca's got himself a lover finally. Raffaele... Alessandro had expected
it all the time. If this was the Raffaele he knew, it should be all
right. Alessandro couldn't be cross with Luca. Not really. Not at all.


"Luca,

Do you remember when I said you didn't have to wait for me? You wanted to
by all means. And I knew it would happen. You have to decide whether
Raffaele remains just a stand in, or if we have both drifted apart so much,
that there's nothing left for us. Well, you still have twelve months to
make your decision. And I'll need it too. I'm not sure myself if I'd like
to return to you. I fear that I'm not the same anymore. Perhaps it is good
this way. One has to develop in ones life, right? But I guess, my
development consists only of change. Whether it is for the good, I doubt.

I don't know what to tell you. Thanks for your honesty, even if it comes a
bit late. OK, we are even anyway, because my honesty isn't exactly better
than yours. I can't tell you more here; my letters I have to deliver
open. Next time you come we can talk about everything. You will come?

I don't need a forget-me-not to think of you. Though, when I lean my ear
very close, it seems to talk to me with your voice. I guess I'm becoming a
drama-queen. Must be the Summer.

I've heard about the Gioco, in fact, I saw a snippet of it on TV. Sorry
about the brothers. I mean it. Have they apologised yet? I remember you
wrote that they've changed. I hear from Leoni occasionally. She sends me
pictures of Matteo. I don't know why she does it.

I wait for your next visit. Love,

Alessandro"





In July Luciano's corpse was fished out of the Arno. His body had been
caught beneath a dam of the river opposite Cascine Park. It was a shock for
the community.

When Luca stopped the red Ferrari in the parking lot of the youth custody
unit at Poggibonsi he felt very depressed. It was the day after Luciano's
funeral at the cemetery of the Holy Gates of San Miniato. The community had
given him his last escort. Luca and Raffaele had sensed a possibly of total
shock spreading amongst them. HIV and AIDS had been pushed for too long
from their immediate consciousness and Luca had noticed that bare-backing
was gaining ground again, disregarding danger.

Entering the visitor's room he couldn't find Alessandro until he
turned. Luca gasped, eyeing the stubble skull. "What the hell happened to
your hair? Did you get lice?"

Alessandro laughed unhappy. "Not at all. You like my new outfit?" He pulled
Luca next to him upon a bench in the corner. "Precaution. I don't want to
being pulled through the washing room by my hair."

Luca stared at him. "Who would do something like that?"

Alessandro didn't answer. "I'm sorry about Luciano", he said instead after
a while. "Did you attend the funeral?"

Luca nodded curtly, then he emptied his rucksack with the things Alessandro
had wanted. "Have I told you that Zardi is getting lessons in Italian?"
Alessandro said, "He's almost a dyslexic. The social workers want him to
get an apprenticeship."

Again Luca stared at him, then he shook his head. He knew that Alessandro
avoided by all means the really important subjects. The blue eyes in the
small face gleamed feverish and his broken nose was all too
prominent. Still Alessandro Gondi carried a noblesse that was as sharp as a
sword. He wasn't broken. He still didn't feel fear. Or was this just a
mask? "Is he the reason you cut off your hair?" he asked. Luca searched the
room for the plump Pietro Zardi, but he wasn't there. His eyes scanned the
visitors - mostly parents, talking to their sons.

"Not only he", Alessandro said and lowered his voice. "There's this new
lad, Tito Boni. Well, he's been here now for some months. Nasty guy."
Alessandro faltered. "I don't want to deny you, but I wish I hadn't been so
open in the first place. You know..."

Luca took Alessandro's hand under the table and pressed it. "I understand."
So, Alessandro was showing signs of weakness and regret. It was good this
way. Fear will sharpen your senses for danger.

"I hadn't thought it would be a problem", Alessandro continued. "I always
did what I thought would be right." He paused. "In the life outside. But
this is a life of its own. Actually it isn't life at all." He looked up
into Luca's eyes. "Tell me about Raffaele."

Luca tried to hide his reddened cheeks. Alessandro needed his support and
he was with another, enjoying "life outside". Well, what you could call
'enjoyment'. But didn't Luca need a companion to be able to stand all this?

"Do you see him often? I thought you would bring him with you."

"Bring him with me?" Luca repeated astonished. "Why would I do such a
thing? I don't want to hurt you."

Alessandro pressed his hand. "I told you I understand. I hope he's nice."

"I wouldn't be with him if he wasn't."

"Will you dump him when I'm out of here? Or will you dump me?"

"We can still be friends", Luca answered reserved, realizing his
betrayal. But he had told Raffaele that there was no chance for a future
life together. Nonetheless Raffaele wasn't to be stopped in spending his
hours with Luca.

"The reason of my bald head is me and Mario", Alessandro said, dropping the
subject. "I'm sure the guys have found out, or they suppose we are having
an affair. So far, they've held their mouths, but if they go in that
direction, Mario will be fired."

Luca looked down on the table. "So this is the end, yes?" he said with low
voice. "You and me have found others?"

"Just to survive", Alessandro said and lifted Luca's chin. "Don't you
think?"



When Luca had gone Alessandro felt bad. But he couldn't be too long in the
dumps. He needed all of his concentration. Again Lauro hadn't had any
visitors. But the slender lad would be released tomorrow. Alessandro asked
himself if anybody from his family would come to pick him up. He still
needed psychological help first for the suicide of his brother and then for
his kleptomania that no one could be sure was cured. He met him on the
floor, sitting on the bench he was always sitting at, staring into nothing,
his face even paler than usual.

"Looking forward to tomorrow?" Alessandro asked, sitting next to him.

Lauro didn't answer, he just shrugged his shoulders.

"Anybody picking you up? Your parents?" he asked in a brittle voice.

Lauro's body jerked. "Why would they?"

Alessandro noticed that Lauro's fingers had started to tremble. He wondered
why. Perhaps he was too excited to be leaving all this behind. "You can
write to me if you like", he said.

Lauro's big, brown eyes turned to him. "Write?" he repeated and fell silent
again. Then he rose and said "I wish you luck, Alessandro. Probably we
won't see each other again." Without a look back he shuffled away.

Alessandro watched him until his body had vanished around a corner. He sat
on the bench for some minutes pondering what to do. This morning he'd got
back his test from the university at Pisa with an outstandingly good
result. But Alessandro couldn't be happy about it. He didn't feel the use
of it, albeit he enjoyed working through the lessons. He just wasn't sure
for what he would use it. Food for his soul, he thought then. A reason not
to get mad.

Lauro was missing at the large dining room, Benno noticed, sitting next to
Alessandro. Benno had become his only real friend - the big, simple baby
face with the good heart. Once he had told Alessandro that he had dealt
with drugs to survive the life on the streets. His parents had chucked him
out when he was fifteen, because they weren't in need of another mouth to
feed. And Benno was a strong eater. Alessandro shoved him his portion of
over boiled spaghetti and Benno gobbled it up. Thankful he blinked at
Alessandro.

"He's probably packing his stuff for his release tomorrow", Alessandro
said, "and he isn't especially keen on this stuff here." He pointed to
Benno's almost empty plate.

"Why? It's good."

Alessandro grimaced. Sure, when you live on the streets even a rotten apple
sounds delicious.

The warden was passing their table with brash steps, watching the guys
eat. "I'm out here for Christmas as well", Benno said.

"You have plans?" Alessandro asked.

"Sure. The social worker got me a job."

Alessandro smiled at him. "Good for you. As a carpenter?" Benno had made an
apprenticeship here in custody.

"Yes. I only hope I won't be chucked out too soon."

"It depends on you." Alessandro's eyes were fixed on the group sitting some
tables away. Tito Boni with his gang, as he named them. Just Ivano was
sitting apart, trying to get Alessandro's attention as ever. Since he had
broken with Zardi, Zorro and Boni he was a loner. Alessandro couldn't
forget what he had done to him. And still there was the danger that Zardi
would go to the director to inform him about the forbidden liaison between
Alessandro and Mario.

Alessandro pulled the dessert close to him, a yellow pudding with a red,
indefinable sauce. He wolfed it down without tasting it as he remembered
Lauro and his odd words of farewell. 'Probably we won't see each other
again.' "Gotta go, Benno", he said, shoving back his chair. "See you
later."

He went straight into the hall, crossing the floor, leading to their
cells. Lauro's door was closed. Alessandro listened but there was
silence. He knocked at the iron door. Since nobody answered he opened
it. The hinges creaked and Alessandro was momentarily blinded by the
sunbeams streaming through the small, grated window set high into the
wall. He blinked. It took some seconds before the information sunk
in. Lauro was hanging limply from the grate, his checked bed clothes
wrapped around his neck. Alessandro emitted a cry and hurried to him. He
lifted his legs, dangling a few centimetre above the ground and tried to
pull him down, but it wouldn't work. Desperate he searched for the stool,
dragged it close and stepped upon it. He fumbled with the knot of the cloth
and tried to unwrap it from Lauro's neck.

Lauro's body fell to the ground, Alessandro jumped down, patted his
cheeks. Then he cried out for help.




"Here." Mario gave Alessandro a sheet of paper. "We've found this upon
Lauro's table." Silently Alessandro read, then he put the paper back, still
saying nothing. "How is he?" he asked.

"All right. A minute later and he would be dead. He used the time when
every one was in the dining room." Tired Mario sat at the table and removed
his glasses. He rubbed his eyes. "It throws a bad light upon the
institution. It would had been the first suicide. It was an unforgivable
mistake that this letter passed without reading. I would have told Lauro
personally and he wouldn't be so distraught. Apparently I couldn't help him
with all his problems."

"Who could have guessed it? What will you do now?"

"Send the police to his home. Arrest his father."

Alessandro nodded. Surely. No wonder Lauro didn't want to return home. And
his kleptomania appeared now in a different light. A cry for attention and
love. Perhaps he would now find real help. "Do you think this was the
reason his brother committed suicide?"

Mario nodded. "Of course. Abuse by the father for years is reason enough
for a kid who isn't able to talk about the unspeakable. Lauro feared to
return to that hell. And he wasn't strong enough to live a life on the
streets as Benno did. And the mother? Denied it. Closed her eyes. Did you
know that Lauro has a little sister?"

Alessandro shook his head as shock washed over him. "Sometimes I wish there
was the death penalty. He deserves it by all means."

Mario quickly took Alessandro hand, laying clenched to a fist upon the
table. "You mustn't. The death penalty is barbaric. We can't do the
same. We can't become equal to inhumanity. He will get his punishment."

"This can't be punished", Alessandro objected quietly. "There's no real
punishment for a destroyed soul."

"It will heal. Time heals everything."

"That's a lie. Some wounds never heal."

Mario sighed. "At least he was rescued. And when he's able to give
testimony his father will vanish into jail for a long time. About the
mother, I'm not sure. It will be hard to prove she knew about it all the
time."

Alessandro sighed as well.

"How are you doing?" Mario asked.

Alessandro had never told him about his problems with Tito Boni. He didn't
want to appear as a weakling, complaining about problems he was able to
solve himself. "All right", he said. "Twelve months to go."

"How's Luca?"

"Found another bed comrade."

Mario watched him sharply. "How do you feel about that?"

Alessandro moaned unnerved. "Stop that compassionate blathering, Mario. You
certainly know I feel like shit. I sit here and can't do anything about
it."

"What will you do when you are out?" Mario asked calmly.

Alessandro leaned forward. "If I wasn't here there wouldn't be another
comrade for Luca", he hissed. "And all this because a stupid judge thought
that the life of a swine is more important than the life of my boyfriend."

Mario raised his brows. "You mustn't see it that way. When you were
delivered here you were convinced that you deserved your punishment. You
killed another human. Wasn't that your words?"

"Might be. I've changed my opinion."

"Alessandro", Mario said. "Don't lose yourself. You will get out of
here. Soon. You can return to your normal life. And your study is going
well, isn't it. You can realize your dream. That's so much more than all
the others have here."

Alessandro said nothing. He stared gloomily into nowhere.

------------------
to be continued