Date: Sun, 2 Aug 2009 21:05:45 +0200 From: A.K. Subject: The Other Part of the World 13/16 (historical) ---------------------------- THE OTHER PART OF THE WORLD by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2009 written on January 12, 2002 translated by the author English text kindly revised by Bert Carley ----------------------------- USUAL DISCLAIMER "THE OTHER PART OF THE WORLD" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest. ----------------------------- Part IV - Chapter 13 - Being able to receive and to give Manoel ended assigning homework to his students, then had them put away their books and accompanied them to the door of the school. Outside several coaches and clashes or slaves on foot were waiting for the boys to take them back home. Manoel went back to put away his books and registers in the teachers' room. Here he met the school director. "Oh, professor Branco, I need to talk with you before you leave." "Yes, director?" "I have three points to discuss with you. The first is to inform you that your pupils' families, as well the same pupils, seem to be happy about the way you are carrying on your work... It seems evident that you excellently replaced our old professor Alvaro De Matos Barreto, who took his retirement last year. I am therefore happy having, so to say, taken you away from the primary school of Santo AndrŽ to offer you this teaching place in our superior school at S‰o Paulo." "I thank you for your words. I am glad that my engagement is appreciated and I grant you I will always do my best to go on deserving your trust and your appreciation." "I don't doubt it. The second point... As you possibly know, in these last years some Italian gentlemen are moving their activities here in S‰o Paulo... They bring their families. I thought that it could be suitable if our school started special courses for the sons of these gentlemen, to teach them Portuguese. Since you are able to speak also Italian, I thought to ask you to have the kindness to also give special lessons for this purpose..." "Sir director, to be truthful, I am not a profound connoisseur of the Italian language. I can speak, read... and also write it, but not so very correctly..." "My dear Mister Branco, you would not have to teach the Italian language, but just to use it, at least at the beginning, in order to teach Portuguese. I therefore see no problems. Do you accept, then?" "What would be the time charge during the week?" the young teacher asked. "I was thinking of two hours three times a week, in the first afternoon. Of course paid like the normal hours of your actual teaching." "We can try, sir director. When should I start?" "Give me just the time to spread the information and to gather the enrolments... Let's say in about three weeks. Is that alright?" "It certainly is, sir director. So I will also have the needed time to prepare for this new task." "Very well. Let's now come to the third point. This is, so to say, a bit more delicate... I've heard that you gather at your home boys of the slums, and even some slaves' sons, to give them gratuity lessons... does this voice correspond to truth?" "Yes, it does." "Well, you see... I surely cannot tell you what you can or cannot do in your free time, Mister Branco, but this activity is not seen so much with a good eye by a part, I dare say influent, of S‰o Paulo good society. This attitude is judged by many as... populist, if not even revolutionary, and possibly even too much... liberal, anyway. This, you see, can damage the good name of our Institution of Secondary Education..." "Sir director, as it certainly is at your knowledge, also my origins are exactly from the slums of this city. If I succeeded in getting a good education I owe it only to the generous protection of Mister Eucl"des Quadros Dutra. I therefore well know both what means to be poverty-stricken and what is the importance of being able to have access to an education. What I am doing is just a small attempt to give back what I had the chance to receive..." "Your generosity is certainly commendable, this notwithstanding... as I was just saying, it is not to me to tell you what you can or cannot do in your free time but, if you permit me, I would like to give you a suggestion. I am told that your apartment is very close to the Dominican fathers' church, is it right?" "Yes..." "Well, if the good fathers would offer one of the rooms of their convent to gather those boys, who are, how to say, disinherited, and if you went to their convent and offer your help teaching to those boys, the problem quite certainly would cease to be such, in fact it would not be officially you who takes charge of those boys, but the fathers... Don't you think that this could be a fair solution?" "Yes... I agree, sir director, I will go and talk with the convent's father prior... and I hope he will not raise objections. If I get a refuse, I will go on giving the lessons in my apartment." "If you get a refusal, just come and tell me. I have good acquaintances at Monsignor Archbishop's see, and I can ask them to exert the proper pressures..." "Thank you, sir director." Manoel left the school with mixed feelings of pleasure, for the praise he received, and of annoyance for what he anyway judged to be an undue interference with his private life. He walked at a fast pace to his apartment. He prepared something to eat then went in his drawing room to read a good book. It was mid afternoon when the doorbell rang. Manoel was waiting for nobody at that time. He stood up and went to open, asking himself who could be. He saw in front of him a man wearing a dark grey travel dustcoat and a black top hat. The light coming from the stairway was at the man's back so Manoel couldn't clearly see his features. "Manoel Branco, isn't it?" the man asked with a low and warm voice. "Yes... with whom do I have the honour..." Manoel asked, slightly puzzled. "Don't you remember me, Manoel? Just a few years have elapsed..." the man said as he removed his hat. Manoel recognised him at once - he was Castro Correia De Negreiros, his former history teacher. During the last two years of his studies to become a teacher, Manoel had had a relationship with Castro, in spite that the man was married and had also a child. Their story began one day when Manoel went to the library to do research on ancient Rome literature. As the boy didn't know the classical Latin but he knew that his history teacher could read it with the same fluency with which he read a newspaper, went to the studio of Castro to ask him the kindness to translate a passage that was in Latin and that, differently than for the others, didn't have a translation in writing. It was a Sextus Propertius's poem, that in a couple of lines said, "If anyone wants to be my enemy, let him desire girls: and delight in boys if he wants to be my friend." Manoel then, pretending to be amazed, asked him if "also in those ancient times like at our times" there were men who preferred to make love with boys... His teacher answered, at first keeping on general terms, but then going more and more in detail while Manoel shrewdly lead him where he desired. The boy in fact already for some time had a fancy for that still young teacher who was, if not really beautiful, decidedly sensual. The man, even thought the social conventions of the times lead him to marry, as it was expected from him, had always had a strong leaning towards the manly graces. Both engaged in conversation that took them from words to finally engage themselves physically with each other. They became, even though not real lovers, very intimate, sharing quite often the bed for their mutual pleasure. When then Manoel received his teacher's licence and left S‰o Paulo to get a teaching position in Santo AndrŽ, the history teacher was offered a teaching position at the Imperial University in Rio de Janeiro. "Professor, what a pleasure to see you again! Come in, please. Why are you in S‰o Paulo? I thought you were in Rio..." "Yes, but I came back with my family from Rio, as the government offered me a position as undersecretary of Education. Besides being a prestigious place, the pay is much higher than as a university teacher; therefore, also to be able to come back to my town, the town that I love, I immediately accepted the position." "Your wife and your son, professor De Negreiros, are fine?" "At one time you called me by my name..." the man said with a winning smile. Then said, "In the meanwhile I had two more children. We are now living not far from the government palace... Today I went to Santo AndrŽ in the hope of meeting you, but there I was told that you moved here and fortunately they also gave me your address, therefore here I am now. I was feeling a strong desire to meet you again." "I too am really glad you are here again Castro." "I didn't forget the good times I spent in intimacy with you, my dear friend." "Neither did I..." "Do you possibly have a lover, Manoel, at present?" "No, no lover, neither man nor woman... And you, Castro, besides your wife?" "In Rio I had a lover, a dear boy, a young man of a very good family and one of my most talented students... But unhappily, coming here, we had to part. He could not follow me, and he is anyway near to get married... You, as you said, don't really intend to have a family?" "No, really not. I don't feel any leaning towards women and rather, besides very few that consider me a friend. I feel somewhat annoyed with women. I believe that I could never get aroused being in bed with a representative of the so called gentle sex." "Manoel... may I confess to you that my visit today, if it doesn't annoy you, is with the hopeÉ by a certain strong desire for you once again?" "I have no engagement of any kind, my dear Castro... Wouldn't you like to be for a while in my company? My bedroom is behind that door and my bed is wide enough to accommodate two people... and their amorous evolutions." "It really doesn't annoy you?" "All the contrary Castro. What has been shared by us still remains for me a good memory, a memory that is certainly worth refreshing." the young man said, standing and, taking the man's hand and guided him to his bedroom. They slowly undressed looking at each other and when they were naked both were already fully aroused. Manoel noticed that the man's body had grown a little stout, but was still desirable. "Manoel, I would like you to take me standing in front of your closet mirror..." the man said with a somewhat shy smile. "Not on the bed?" the young man asked, slightly surprised. "Not this time... Do you remember our first time, when we shut ourselves in the depot of the blackboards and the heaters, and you took me standing? I would like to relive that moment now, after so many years, as though it is our first time again." Manoel smiled and nodded. Castro turned to be in profile in front of the mirror and leaned his hands on the bottom of the bed, bending and so offering himself to the penetration of his former student. Manoel went at his back, seized his hard member and guided it between the slightly hairy buttocks of the man. "Oh, yes, go on Manoel, knock it all inside me!" the man begged him, his voice already hoarse with desire. Manoel pushed and sank inside him like a warm knife in a butter pot. He then seized Castro's waist and started to hammer against him with slow, long and vigorous strokes, as he knew the man liked. Castro was looking in the mirror and enjoying the view of their union with an expression of pure lust painted on his face. At times Manoel's member slipped out of the dilated and palpitating hole, but he went in again with extreme easiness. ÒManoelÉ you areÉ the bestÉ of allÉ the boysÉ I everÉ hadÉ really!Ó the man sighed uttering the sentence in rhythm with the lunges the young man was giving him. ÒYou say so only because you are with me in this moment.Ó the young man answered with light irony, going on to vigorously take him. ÒNo, honestly. You really know how I like being taken!Ó After a few minutes that Manoel was pumping inside the welcoming arse of the man, the latter suddenly came, without even having touched himself, against the wooden bed-bottom, moaning and groaning all his pleasure. Manoel then accelerated his strokes, impressing in them more energy so that soon he too unloaded in the warm and throbbing depths of the man. ÒYou have been great, Manoel! Thank you. You too enjoyed it, didn't you?Ó ÒAs always, Castro.Ó They parted and after having cleaned with a towel, dressed again in their clothes. ÒMay I come again at times to see you, Manoel?Ó ÒOf course, Castro, you will always be welcomeÉ at least up to the day I will find a loverÉÓ Manoel said with a slightly cunning smile. ÒAh, you are not like me who cheat on my wife each time I can. The day you will have a lover, you will be faithful to him.Ó the man stated, interpreting Manoel's sentence. ÒWell, yes, of course, if the word lover doesn't mean just the person with which I fuck, but the person I love and who loves me. I think I would not be able to cheat on him not even if I tried, for what I know myself.Ó ÒDid you ever have a real lover?Ó ÒNot in the meaning I just said. But I hope I can find one, some days. AdventuresÉ well I had many, considering my age, I have to concede.Ó ÒWhen you have your adventures, do you consider yourself as cheating?Ó ÒIf they are just adventures, there is no cheating, right? When you were with me, or with your student in Rio, didn't you have also other adventures?Ó ÒNo, sincerely not.Ó ÒAnd yet we weren't lovers, were we?Ó ÒIt was enough for me the sexual activities with you and with my wife, to appease my needsÉ Why, did you have adventures, when you where doing it with me?Ó ÒYes, at times I had someÉ we weren't lovers, in fact.Ó ÒYou never told meÉ With whom? With your schoolmates?Ó ÒYou never asked me. With a couple of my schoolmates as well as with some men downtown and some foreigner passers by, at times.Ó ÒYou didn't allow yourself to miss anything, I seeÉÓ ÒWhat I really miss is not having a true lover with whom to share my lifeÉÓ ÒWho is the man of your dreams, Manoel?Ó ÒI have not a typeÉ it would be enough he really loves me and accepts my love, he is honest and sincere, he is tender but virile, and he wants to build his future together with me.Ó ÒI wish you that you can find him, someday.Ó ÒAnd that day would not be so far away!Ó Manoel answered with a tender smile. A few days later Manoel went to talk with the prior of then nearby Dominicans' convent. Luckily the friar accepted at once and with pleasure Manoel's request. He at once placed at his disposal one of the rooms they used for the catechism that was also equipped with benches and a blackboard. This accommodation, Manoel had to admit, was even better than going on using his apartment. As he left the convent, Manoel at once went to inform the director about his arrangement and the man was really glad. To express him how much he appreciated this solution, the director offered to Manoel to take some books that were no more in use in his institute as well as other used but useful didactic materials that Manoel immediately moved to the convent, renting a calash. It was July 18th of 1842 that was exactly one year after the ascension to the throne of Dom Pedro II. After the celebration he held in his classroom with his pupils, Manoel, well muffled up as the day was rather cold, he left the school to go back home. Along the street he noticed a boy sitting on the ground, his back leaning against the wall of a house, his arms wrapped around his knees and his head leaning on his arms. He was wearing only a skimpy jacket, wide earth colour trousers, and old shoes that had been black in the past, without socks. Manoel thought that the boy could have had a sudden illness. Therefore he stopped, bent next to him and lightly shook him. The boy raised his head and looked at him - his eyes that were of a hazelnut almost golden colour, limpid like the water of a spring, impressed Manoel. ÒAre you feeling ill, boy?Ó he asked him. ÒNo, I'm just coldÉ and a lot of hunger.Ó the boy answered in a mix of Italian and Portuguese, and had a smile almost as to apologise. ÒAre you Italian?Ó Manoel then asked him, switching to Italian. ÒYesÉ could you please give me some change sir? I don't have either a single reisÉÓ the boy asked and blushed. Manoel felt moved and filled with pity, ÒCan you walk?Ó he asked. ÒYesÉÓ the boy answered. ÒThen come with me.Ó Manoel proposed him. ÒWhere?Ó ÒTo my home. I already prepared my lunch, we can share it and eat it together.Ó ÒI thank you, sir, you are very kindÉÓ the boy answered almost in a whisper, standing up. Manoel saw that the boy was tall like him. He had a great mane of brown hair lightly waved and a very light beard - it was clear that he had not shaved for many days. His nose was perfect, his lips soft and sensual. Manoel at once felt strongly attracted to the boy. ÒWhat's your name, and how old are you?Ó he asked him while they were walking side by side towards his house. ÒMy name is Girolamo Bosco, and am twenty-years old.Ó ÒHow do you do, Girolamo. My name is Manoel Branco and I am twenty-five. I am a teacher.Ó ÒHow come you speak Italian so well sir? Did you live in Italy?Ó ÒNo, I don't really speak it wellÉ I studied it, some years ago, but I unhappily never went to Italy. But don't call me sir, after all I am just five years older than you, isn't that so? Don't make me feel like an old manÉÓ Manoel joked. ÒBut you are a teacher, and so well dressedÉ I am ignorant and am just a ragamuffinÉÓ ÒEither you call me by my name, or I will not offer you any more a meal.Ó Manoel said to him, but with a smile that belied his words. They got home. First of all Manoel made him sit in the kitchen and lit the stove to heat the room as well as the food he had prepared. ÒHow come you came here from Italy, Girolamo?Ó Manoel asked him while he was setting at the table. ÒMy father emigrated here to Brazil, to S‰o Paulo, in 1830, that is when I was just eight years old. For a while he sent us some letters that he had a priest write for him, with some money that allowed us to go onÉ But then, after ten years, both the letters and the money ceased to comeÉ So, around the end of last year, gathering all the little money we had, I leaved my mother and my brothers and decided to come here to look for my fatherÉ I boarded the ship in Genoa and reached Santos, then I came here, I looked for my father for months, touring all over the town and asking his news to all the Italians I met, until I met a woman who knew him and that told me that my father was deadÉ I then looked for work, to be able to send some money to my mother, but up to now I have had no luckÉ I just found some small daily jobsÉ and not even everydayÉ and the little money I earned was barely enough to eatÉ and not even every dayÉÓ the boy told in a tired tone. ÒWhere were you living in Italy?Ó ÒNear Alba, in the Piedmont and Sardinia kingdom. Do you know where it is?Ó ÒI know where is Turin, the capital city of that kingdom, but I never heard of the town called AlbaÉÓ ÒIt is lower than Turin, south toward Genoa, more or lessÉÓ ÒWhat was your work in Alba?Ó ÒI was a daily farmhand for a hazel farmer, as well as my mother and my second brother. We made barely enough to eat, but we weren't starving, and we had a roof over our headsÉÓ ÒAnd now, would you like better to go back to Italy or to stay here?Ó ÒIf I found a job, I would willingly stop here, so I could send some money to my familyÉÓ They ate, talking some more. Manoel looked at the boy eating with gusto, but without gobbling down, and admired his honest face and his beautiful, sincere eyes. Besides feeling attracted towards the boy, he was feeling towards him an instinctive liking. When the boy opened in one of his rare smiles, he became, besides likeable, even more fascinating. ÒI bet that you don't have a place to sleep either, am I right?Ó at a certain point Manoel asked him. ÒNoÉ I don't have the money to pay for itÉÓ ÒSo, then, where are you sleeping, with this cold? We are in full winterÉÓ ÒBah, where it happensÉ in some corner sheltered from the wind or from the bad weather.Ó ÒBut you risk to die, if a hard frost comes.Ó ÒIn my village we say that not even the devil wants the bad beasts! Up to now, at least, the devil didn't want to take meÉÓ the boy said with a shy smile. ÒWould you be a bad beast? It doesn't really seem so, you have an honest face, limpid eyes.Ó ÒHonesty is one of the few things that my father left me in heritageÉÓ the boy said. ÒWhat are the other things that he left you in heritage?Ó ÒA stubborn head, the will to work hard, the hope that tomorrow could possibly be better than today, and the strength not to complain if things don't go as I hoped.Ó ÒWell, it seems that he left you a good heritage. You see, I have no idea about who my father was, and didn't know my motherÉ Therefore I got absolutely nothing in heritage.Ó Girolamo widened his eyes, ÒSo you, at least when you were a child, have been even more unlucky than me! But now, it seems, you are going on rather well, aren't you?Ó ÒThank heavens yes. Thank to heaven and to a worthy person who helped me.Ó Manoel reflected for some time, then said to Girolamo, ÒListen, if it is good with you, at least as long as you can find a job, you could stay here with me. In the living room there is a sofa that we can adapt as a bed, and the food for one can be enough also for two people. I am not a rich man but, thank to god, not even a poor one. I have several clothes, and your built is almost like mine, therefore you can use my clothesÉ I could moreover teach you Portuguese - as better you speak it as easier you can find a job. What do you think?Ó Girolamo listened to him with increasing emotion, ÒYou would really do all this for me, Manoel? But you don't even know meÉÓ ÒYou see, as I told you, a good-hearted person helped me when I most needed it. He helped me in spite he discovered that I pilfered to make a livingÉ in spite I didn't deserve his helpÉ I would never be able to repay his kindness, but I can pay off this debt helping another person, can't I? Therefore I would do it, and more than willingly, if you accept.Ó ÒI feel like I am dreaming, Manoel. IÉ I was already feeling grateful to you who didn't just throw me a few reis to allow me to buy some food, but you even made me sit at your table and shared with me your mealÉ And nowÉÓ ÒWill you accept, then?Ó ÒWith infinite gratitude, Manoel. And I hope a day to be able to pay you back for your generosity!Ó ÒPossibly, to pay me back, you will one day help in your turn another person. You see, in my opinion life is like a chain, from one side you receive and on the other side you give, and so life became good to be lived. Being able to accept at times is more difficult than to give, even though at time it is exactly the opposite. Who is able to both accept and giveÉ well, that one is really worth to be called a man.Ó ----------------------------- CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 14 ----------------------------- In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is http://andrejkoymasky.com If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English translations, so that I can put on-line more of my stories in English please e-mail at andrej@andrejkoymasky.com ---------------------------