Date: Fri, 30 Apr 2010 14:46:57 +0200
From: dino alpacino <dinoalpacino@gmail.com>
Subject: Chapter XIII-In the still of the night

My homecoming was extensively celebrated. Three nights in a row family and
friends attended my mother's carefully tended soirees. Officially there was
one night for the return of the prodigal son, one for the Irish Free State
and of course the Fourth of July. But my mother managed to make me the
centre of each event. She even made a cake with my name on it. Seriously.

So I was the son she wanted for three days. I smiled, shook hands, and ate
cake.

There were lots of things to do in summertime Chicago, and my brother
dragged me along on all of his outings. I went willingly, but wasn't much
for entertainment. When in a rare moment of honest concern he asked me what
was wrong, I shrugged and downed my beer. That was the last of it. My
parents noticed my sullen mood as well but wrote it off to missing
school. In a way that was very true. Three weeks of this took their toll. I
became exhausted with all the fake smiling and grew tired of family. It
even came to an invitation from my grandparents to spend the summer at
their cabin on Lake Superior.

Luckily the next morning the mailman delivered a Godsend: a cheerful
postcard from the seaside. On it there were two half naked fishermen
gutting fish with broad smiles and gleaming white teeth. I wondered where
Edward had found such a card. When the maid put it next to my plate at the
breakfast table my father frowned. My mother remarked na•vely that it
was such a delightful tribute to the hardworking people who provide our
meals. I knew better.

Flipping it over I almost choked on my bun with joy.



" Ahoy Fellow Collegiate!



Come join us here at the seaside for as long as you like. The weather is
great and so are the fishermen!



Your friends,



Edward and Chuck



Postscriptum: swimming trunks must be short, it's all the new rage"



'What's that supposed to mean?' asked my sister who was reading along from
the seat next to me.

'What?'

'The fishermen.'

'Oh, uhm, Charlie runs an inn and he serves great fish. I suppose they're
having a good summer...'

I wondered if she bought it. But then again, who would ever guess? If it
were up to Edward he'd spell it out for them, so I was glad Charlie had
supervised the card.

'So are you going?'

'Going where?' my mother asked, like a hen in distress.

'Some friends from school have invited me to Shorebrook, New
Hampshire. They're spending the summer there.'

'You've only just arrived!'

'Come now Martha, he's been here for three weeks already. He's a young lad,
they don't want to spend their summers under their mother's wings.' my
father interjected from behind The Tribune.

'We'll need to get you some proper clothing then.' she decided.

And so we did. I spent the entire day with my mother in and out of
shops. It was like I was going to summer with the King of England, the way
she acted. I had to stop her from buying me linen suits, straw hats and the
kind. When it was time to get some bathing suits I persuaded her there were
only guys there so there was no need for 'proper attire'. The sales clerk
had me pegged from the moment I said that and returned with an array of
skimpy things.

'Perhaps there comes a time in a mother's life when her son's underwear and
such are no longer any of her business. I'll go and get you some toiletries
while you pick something out.' she said, and as an afterthought she
whispered 'But for God's sake keep it decent Dylan O'Keafe.'

The sales clerk chuckled and waited for her to leave and confide in me that
the white ones weren't very discreet when wet. It goes without saying it
took one of those.







It made no sense. Why didn't Thom tell me about this Italy plan sooner?
Being away from him for the summer was hard, but not unsurpassable. Being
told only a few days in advance was. The more important question however
was what was going on with him. Looking back on the past two months it all
seemed so apparent he was either falling out of love with me, or something
else bothered him. I hoped it was the latter, but feared the first. I knew
that what we had or had had was real. And it was intense. In no way
different from the relationships that were considered to be
conventional. But did I honestly know two men living together? Was it
possible? Or would my life be just a series of loose ends?

All this kept churning in my head. Every time the train bumped on the
tracks a new thought bumped into my head. It was a very long bumpy ride to
Shorebrook, and a smoulderingly hot one. Thankfully we arrived around noon
when the sun was at it's highest. The cool sea breeze was blown inland and
refreshed my body and soul.



I milled around the tiny train station for a while until a frantic claxon
demanded my attention. And sure enough, a stylish sports buggy pulled up
and in it sat Edward. Grinning from ear to ear and wearing an outrageously
large pair of sunglasses he greeted me.

'O'Keafe, aren't you glad I rescued you from the torment of family.' He
stated rather full of himself. I let this one pass, since he was absolutely
right.

'Nice car.'

'A little gift from across the Atlantic.' he grinned.

'You're even more loaded than I thought.'

'Lord Buntings the II is, not me.'

'Yeah, whatever.' I shrugged, but couldn't hide my joy of being amongst
friends once again.



'Charlie's busy in the kitchen. The inn is packed and it's lunchtime, you
know.' Edward apologised. 'But we've given you the same room as last time,
so go and freshen up. You look like you need it.'



So I did.  Refreshed and redressed I joined Edward on the deck and sucked
in the salty sea breeze.

'Do you want to go to the beach and join the gang or catch up with your old
friend Edward?'

'The gang?' I asked with a cocked eyebrow.

'Oh sweetcheecks, a truly marvellous bunch of guys. And all of them are
pretty easy on the eyes too.'

'The surf and sun have done you good.' I commented jokingly on his
temperament.

'Charlie deserves the credit, but the surf and sun are welcome companions.'

'Well, I'd prefer catching up before meeting this "truly marvellous bunch
of guys".'

'All right, we'll need an iced tea then, Long Island of course.'

'Of course.'







'So, let me get this straight. You just turned up on his doorstep and he
took you in? No complications?' I recapitulated his account.

'Not quite without complications.'

'Please digress, my dear friend.' I urged.

'Well, for instance: the "monogamy-misunderstanding".'

'So you're not...'

'Heavens no! Somewhere along the way he had picked up this insane notion
about the ways things would come to pass. I had some clarification to do,
but when that was taken care of, all turned out for the best.'

'Basically, you told him what you wanted and Charlie gave in.'

'Something of the sort, yes.'

'Well played.'

'Of course it goes both ways, and we have decided we do love each other
dearly.'

'Of course.' I grinned.

We remained silent and I knew what was coming next.

'So how's your man on the continent?'

My face turned sullen and I took a big gulp of the Long Island Ice Tea.

'Haven't heard a single word from him as to date.'

'How long has it been now?'

'Almost four weeks.'

'The postal services are terribly slow over there.' he offered.

'I've given up that illusion for some time now. A telegram can't be that
much of an effort, even from Tuscany.'

'So...?'

'I think he needs some time for himself. We have been spending a lot of
time together, you know.'

'Isn't that how it's supposed to go?'

'You're one to talk.'

'Touche. But I thought you were love birds, whatever the circumstances,
no?'

I just grunted in response.

'Have you tried to get in touch with him?'

'I've sent his mother a note, requesting his itinerary or a contact
address, but haven't heard anything yet.'

'Hmm, mothers...' he added without much explanation and then steered the
conversation to another direction.



Around three o'clock Charlie had finished with the lunch service and he
joined us on the deck. Soon "the guys" came bustling in from the beach, in
desperate need of a drink. They all chatted away happily and tried to
include me in the conversation. I was not about to disappoint Edward, for I
knew he had specifically invited me to lift my gloom, and joined in on the
nonsensical parley on the benefits of sunscreen versus a tan.

There were four new faces in total. Actually only two, but the other two
guys I only knew from passing in Newbourn. They were friends of Edward's
while the two strangers were friends of Charlie's. There was Clyde and
Joseph whom I recognised from Newbourn and Robert & William. The ampersand
was very apparent to the trained eye. They were in their late twenties and
left me with a strange but familiar impression. I would later realise they
seemed to be very settled. The way my sister and her husband did.

Edward hadn't been lying; they were all easy on the eyes. I didn't know
what they had been told about me but everyone was exceptionally nice. We
spent the afternoon on Charlie's terrace and on the beach. I didn't muster
up the nerve to don myself in the white trunks but I picked out a nice pair
of blue ones. They seemed to do the job just fine, because I got lots of
looks. I wasn't in any mood to act upon them however. The silence from
across the Atlantic weighed heavily on my humour.

The first day on the beach took its toll. Around six I was glowing and
light headed, although the cocktails might have had something to do with
it. After a refreshing shower in the open air - Charlie had one of those
beach-showers installed in front of his deck, much to our viewing
enjoyment- I went upstairs and dressed for an evening at the seaside. My
mother might have rather puritan tastes when it came to bathing suits, but
she knew more shops in Chicago than I did. She had dragged me to a small
place that was teeming with what she called 'bohemian menswear'. I had to
admit; I'd found some great stuff. For tonight I picked out a pair of loose
linen trousers. It looked like something they would wear in the Kashmir. It
was a beautiful shade of blue with some embroidery on it. On top I wore a
simple white singlet since it was still very warm. When I came back down
Edward threw me a glance and said, 'Kasbah? Really?'

I pretended to ignore him and received some compliments from the rest of
the guys. At school I was used to dressing down or at least lean towards
conformity. But I was on holidays and didn't care that much.



We had a great dinner, fresh fish of course, and the bottles of wine went
down pretty easily. The company was nice and conversation easy. After
dinner Joe and Clyde went into town and that left me with two couples. So
the Question followed rather quickly.

'Do you have a boyfriend?' Robert wanted to know.

'I'm not sure anymore', was the answer. So that led to me telling what was
going on.

I kept my composure but these guys weren't daft. Robert & William were very
empathic and Charlie put his arm around me and gave me a squeeze. Even
Edward was surprisingly mild, although he more than nudged me to get the
situation cleared up. So after another bottle I solemnly swore to get to
the bottom of it the next day and call his parents in Boston to get an
address.

The next morning at breakfast Edward kept nagging me about it, which ruined
my morning. I expected him to know by now not to hassle me before twelve
o'clock because of my famously foul morning temper. I had a little outburst
of frustration and left the table. All of them were surprised and tried to
calm me down but Edward. I went for a walk into town and mulled around at
the souvenir shop, buying a load of god-awful postcards. When I walked into
the post office a gigantic poster tried coaxing me into 'Keeping in touch
with far away friends and relatives!'. Edward was a real pain in the ass
but he was also dead on. I couldn't just let Mrs. Burke blow me off.

With a deep sigh I gave the address to the operator and she connected me to
the Boston switchboard and so on, until I reached Burke Residence. Same
story there, the house apparently had more than one telephone set.

'Young mister O'Keafe, you wanted to speak to me?' Mrs. Burke sure had a
strange way of answering calls.

'Goodmorning Mrs. Burke, I do hope I'm not intruding.'

No response.

'I had hoped you could provide me with some contact information pertaining
Thomas.'

'My son,' she punctuated, 'is not available, since he is spending his
holidays in Tuscany. Florence, Sienna and the likes you see?'

'I was already aware of his whereabouts, he told me before leaving. But I
hoped you would have a phone number, or at least an address for me. He
mentioned he would be staying with some friends of the family?'

'Yes he is escorting Emily Winterton, a dear girl who needed some company
on her stay. Quite a respectable young lady, and as you said her family and
ours are long time friends.'

'That's very nice Mrs. Burke.'

'Hmm.'

'So, could you perhaps...'

'No I cannot, I am afraid. But I do have a letter here for you.'

'Oh really?' I asked and tried to hide my glee.

'As a matter of fact it came after I informed my son you had requested some
means of contact, per telegram.' The sentence was delivered seemingly with
an air of nonchalance, which was far from being the case. And I was meant
to hear it.

 'You can give your address to the help and it will be forwarded.'

'Oh that is most,'

'Goodbye mister O'Keafe.' she interrupted me and passed the horn to one of
the help who dutifully wrote down the address.

I didn't know what to make of it, but it didn't sound good. Every time I
had met Mrs. Burke she had been pleasant. Not so today, anything but
actually.

Thom's sudden demarche had something to do with it. That I didn't doubt for
a second.