By Chris Z.
The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or
publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has
been posted, without the consent of the author.
This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to person's
or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental.
Moreover, none of the actions of the characters in this story is meant to
condone, approve, or sanction their behavior.
All comments are welcome and if you wish to contact me, please feel
free to email me at email@example.com
I would like to give thanks, to all the fans that have expressed
their opinions and whose words, have provided inspiration and encouragement.
"It is worth mentioning for future reference, that the creative power which bubbles so pleasantly in the beginning of a new book quiets down after a time, and as one goes on more steadily, then doubts creep in and then one becomes resigned. Determination not to give in, and the sense of an impending shape keep one at it more than anything."
-- Virginia Woolf --
As I stood in front of my father, I took one step back and thought for a moment, as to why I had done such a thing. Was it an impulse, want, need or more than that?. I looked around the room and saw shadows dancing in the walls and ceiling, the wind was strong as ever and howling, in the distant, I heard a faint roar of thunder, which made me jump and come out of my daze and into reality. My father must have sensed me, because he opened his eyes, stared at me and said.
"Dante.....what's the wrong, you can't sleep?.", and he sat on the bed.
I froze for the moment and thought of a quick answer,
"It's too hot in here, I wanted to open the window but it's stuck." and pointed at the window's direction.
"Allright, I'll open it a bit and you're right, it is getting stuffy in here, 'cause I'm sweating.", he stood up and walked to the window.
As he got out of bed, I fixed my gaze at his shorts and the wonderful equipment they contained. His strong and well defined ass, was prominently concealed and the magnificent cock and hefty balls, swung from side to side, as he made his way to the window. He then stood there and looked outside for a few seconds and with the slightest ease, lifted the window. A gust of cool wind entered the room and I could smell the trace of invigorating, fresh, clean sea air that invaded the room. My father, then turned his head and said.
"It looks like the storm is dying down, but there's still alot of wind and it's a mess outside. I'm going to spend all morning clearing up the debris.", he gave an almost audible chuckle and made his way to the bed. He stopped, when he saw me just standing there and said,
"Aren't you coming to bed or are you planning on being sentry the whole night?.", he waved his big hand and motioned me to come to bed.
We then got into the bed and under the covers. As I closed my eyes and pretended to fall asleep, I carefully watched my father, who would yawn and then fell asleep in a matter of seconds. Where I am the complete opposite and have to toss and turn, before falling asleep, I heard him snore and that was a clear sign that he was out like a light and as I stared at the ceiling for a couple of minutes, I began to get drowsy and then fell asleep. The last thoughts that I remember having, was how wonderful it felt to lie against my father and to feel his warmth. I then gently pressed my back against his chest, snuggled in and went into dreamland.
I awoke as a ray of warm light hit the side of my face and when
I looked at the alarm clock, the time shown was 6:45 a.m.
I was still pretty groggy and quite sleepy and as I tried to get up and go to the bathroom, a huge, brawny and hairy arm held me tight around my waist. I was confused at first and then I remembered that my father had stayed the night and slept on my bed, I moved carefully, so as not to wake him and felt that something was jabbing me on my back. Whatever it was, felt hard and rested right against my back, so I carefully turned around and faced my father. His tanned skin was gleaming with a thin layer of sweat on his forehead and dark stubble was covering his handsome face.
I then lowered my gaze and I was able to see, the culprit that had been stabbing me. My father's enormous cock, was poking half way out of his shorts and the huge penis was twitching, as it had a mind of it's own. I took another quick glance at his face and made sure that he was still asleep and was confirmed by a loud snore. I then moved my hand down and carefully caressed his penis and all of the sudden, the giant python awakened. The huge penis felt warm and soft to my touch and at that point I wasn't concerned about waking him up anymore and continued playing with my new found toy. The flaring mushroom head was slowly portruding from the foreskin and the gigantic organ, was getting bigger and thicker. Soon, I saw a clear, slippery and white liquid, that begun to ooze it's way out of his piss slit and into my finger. I found this to be simply amazing, I knew that it wasn't piss but I was intrigued that my father could make this stuff, and as I wondered what this was, he stirred.
Then all of the sudden he opened his eyes, looked at me and yawned.
"Morning, Son. Did you sleep well?.", and he rubbed his eyes.
I don't know if he was aware that I had been playing with his penis but even if he did, he didn't make an issue of it. I then looked at him, smiled and answered,
"Yeah, I slept well and you?", and yawned.
" Well, yes. I can't believe that I slept so well in your bed.", he then stood up and stretched his arms.
As he stood by the bed, I was able to watch my father in all his prime. He then started to do his morning stretches that were a daily part of his morning routine and these consisted of a few sets of arm swings, leg raises to the front, rear, and sides. I sat on the bed and it was fun to watch how all his muscles rippled with movement and couldn't help to stare, at his broad shoulders, bulging hairy pecs, and the well defined muscles on his thighs. Once he was done with the stretches, he scratched his flat, hairy stomach and headed to the door. As he made his way out, the massive erection was still clearly visible and stretching the fabric to the limit, the erect cock, was bent to the left of his shorts and his heavy balls were swaying back and forth.
He then looked at me and with his big hand, he motioned to follow him.
"C'on Sport. Let's get cleaned up and prepare breakfast for the ladies.", he said
I jumped out of bed and ran to join him. I then tugged his shorts, giggled and pointed at his powerful and impressive erection.
" Mmm?. Oh, that. We'll that happens to all of us guys, in the morning." he smiled and winked.
We then, walked together into the washroom and he made bee line for the toilet. He then, pulled down his shorts and whipped out, his colossal cock and pulled the foreskin back and shot a heavy, loud stream of piss like a fountain. I couldn't even pay attention as to what I was doing, and instead of brushing my teeth, half of the toothpaste ended up on my cheeks. As he continued pissing, he had a look of relief and said,
"Ohhh,.... that feels good.!", and smiled.
Once he was done it was my turn to take a leak and we switched places. As he was brushing his teeth, he smiled at me and said,
"Feels good, doesn't it Son.?", and laughed.
"I'll prepare breakfast for you and then go for my morning jog." He pulled down his shorts, got into the shower and motioned me to jump in with him.
"We'll surprise your mom and grandmother with a nice breakfast", he said. He then grabbed the soap and begun to lather up his body, I turned around to face him and my new toy. As he lathered his strong chest, the large thick cock was staring right at my face and I had to fight the impulsion to grab it. He then said something, that I didn't quite hear and he sprayed water on my face on purpose and laughed.
That caught me by surprise, I looked up and smiled. He watched me and with those alluring hazel eyes, showed me the widest smile and said.
"Hey.......Hello, Dante. I'm talking to you, you there?", and mocked me.
"Mmm.......yeah. I was just thinking about something." and tried to get the water out of my eyes.
"What's on your mind?", and he bend down to my level and started to lather up my body.
"Well, when you woke up this morning, your thing was sticking straight out." and I pointed to the python that was covered in soap suds and dripping with water.
"Ahh,.... Ok. That thing, is called a penis.", he gazed at me, grabbed the shampoo and lathered my hair.
"You see, Son. Most guys wake up in the morning with an erection and that's because we automatically get erections when we are dreaming. Since we have a higher percentage of dream sleep in the morning hours, it is likely that a guy will wake up with an erection.", he then put my head under the shower and washed away the shampoo.
"You get erections, throughout your life and it's perfectly healthy and normal.", he smiled.
"When you start to get older, you'll see what I mean.", and winked.
At that point, I wanted to ask him about the "other" thing, but as I was going to ask the question, he interrupted me, spanked my bottom and told me that he was running late for his morning jog. So he turned off the water, grabbed the towels and we started to dry off.
As he was drying off his body, I couldn't help but notice that his penis had grown while we were in the shower and that his erection looked rock hard. When he had dried off completely, he wrapped the towel around his waist and told me, that he was going to his bedroom to get dressed. I grabbed my pyjamas and headed downstairs to watch my morning cartoons and as I sat on the floor, my father showed up two minutes later, in his grey Umbro sweat shirt and pants. He called me over to the breakfast table and asked me if I wanted cereal or porridge, I told him cereal and continued to glue my eyes to the television.
As he walked around the kitchen, he muttered to himself and was opening all the covers and trying to figure out, where my mother kept everything. As he came close to me and served me the bowl of cereal, I could smell his pleasant deodorant and barely the hint of cologne. Then he went on to "prepare", the typical Italian breakfast and placed on the table, some biscuits, croissants, milk and some bread and jam. He went to the coffee machine and prepared himself a cappuccino, ate one biscuit and told me to be good at church and he would see us later.
He then raced for the door and like lighting, he was gone. I think that this jogging that he did every sunday was just an act to avoid going to church and I found it unfair as to why I had to go. Then as I was lying on the couch, my mother came downstairs and asked about my father.
"Morning Son, did your father go for his morning jog?.", she stood by the stairs and smelled coffee in the air.
"Morning........yeah, he left about forty minutes ago.", and took a bite out of my croissant.
She then walked upstairs and I heard her curse in french. Then, with that tone in her voice said.
"Dante, get a plate and I want you to start getting ready for church.", and went to her room.
Church service didn't even start until ten in the morning, but I knew better than to talk back. Besides, it was my mother and grandmother that took forever to get ready. So, I continued to eat the croissant without a plate and headed upstairs and as I was going into my room, I ran into my grandmother and greeted her.
" Bon matin, grand-mère,"(Good morning, grandma), and waved.
She was teaching me french, and was more patient than my mother at doing that. Both of my parents, as well as my grandmother wanted me to be fluent in both Italian and French and I didn't mind, although I hated learning the grammar. She looked at me and said.
"Ahh, mon petit garçon."(Ahh, my little boy), and waved.
"Did you sleep well, last night?.", she threw me a very warm smile.
"Yes and you?.", and I went to give her a kiss.
"Very well, Dante. Where is your father?." and she hugged me.
"Out on his run, left a long time ago.", and kissed her cheek.
Then she spoke too fast for me to understand everything and all I got, was bit and pieces and a couple of words that I kinda knew, she then told me to get ready for church and went into the washroom. I headed for my room, opened the closet and looked for my much hated sunday suit, this suit my mother had bought it for me when she had gone to Paris a few months back and had emphasized, how expensive it had been and that it was only to be used for church.
Well, fine.........no problem there, it's not like I was going to wear the damm thing when I went out to play. I also hated the colour, it was black, although she said that it was dark blue and itchy. I had to constantly scratch or rub myself on the bench at church, because of the itchiness and this irritated my mother. So, to avoid this episode that was played every sunday, I decided to go and ask her if I could wear my other suit.
"Mom, do I have to wear the black suit.?", I already knew the answer.
"Yes, Dante. And it's not black and please don't wrinkle the suit when you put it on.", she pleaded.
And as I was going to say another word, I was interrupted.
"And No, you cannot wear the other suit. It's gotten too small for you and don't argue.", and that was that.
I mopped my way to my room and slammed the door. Then I heard my mother say.......
"Dante Alessandro, don't be slamming the doors!", she bellowed.
When she used my middle name, I knew that I was starting to tick her off and when she used my full God given name, I knew that I had to run for the hills. I sat on the bed and stuck out my tongue at her and all I could think about, was that somewhere out there, my father was probably drinking coffee in a chalet and reading the paper, yet here I was being dragged to the stupid church to hear Father Ettore, give one of his long, boring sermons.
I then started to get dressed and put on my french blue undershirt, silver necktie and placed the pants and coat on the bed, so that I wouldn't wrinkle them. There was no point in putting on the rest of the ensemble, since I was going to have to wait for a while for both my mother and grandmother. Like any other women, the women in our household took their time in getting ready and the result was pure elegance and beauty. My mother always wore Chloé, from the French fashion house that shot to fame in the 1970's for dressing style icons, such as Grace Kelly and Jackie Kennedy. The label was created by Egypt-born Parisian Gaby Aghion, who created a style of ready-to-wear, along with the concept of modern femininity. I also loved the feminine scent of the perfume that my mother wore by the same name, a mixture of soft, luxurious flowery fragrance that possessed a blend of jasmine and honeysuckle. As for my grandmother, she preferred old classics, such as Chanel or Yves Saint Laurent.
I went to my desk, sat down and took out my favorite reading material, my comic books. I kept then in my desk drawer so that I could sneak a peek in between homework. My mother, wasn't too fond of comic books and did not approve of me "reading" such rubbish. I was introduced to the adventurous and exciting world of comics by Fabrizio and it was he who gave me his old childhood comics and in turn, got me hooked on the adventures of, The Phanton.
As the world's most popular adventure hero, The Phantom has been featured on many items over his 60-plus years, past and present, from all over the world. The first Phantom comic book was printed in Italy in 1937 and the Italians have produced more different Phantom comic book formats than anyone in the world. The three favorite issues that I kept on my drawer and never got tired of reading, were... "The Ghost Who Walks, The Oath of the Skull and The Skull Cave."
The hero was strong, handsome, mysterious and awesome. He had Devil the loyal wolf and Hero the spirited white stallion, and everything about "The Phantom" is pleasantly old-fashioned, dealing with secret lairs, great old vehicles, treasures, nasty pirates and great story settings. The Phantom made his debut on February 17th, 1936 and was the first costumed hero, the character was created by Lee Falk, who to this day is still working on his stories. The Phantom was the kind of hero that despite his normal "human" capabilities, fought crime with bravery, stood for justice and dealt with death defying stunts. The tale of the Phantom was a blend of mystical elements, realism and drew on the influences of classic literature, mythology, history, current events, and theatre, in the end Falk provided something for everyone.
The origin story began with Christopher Standish, who once served as Christopher Columbus' cabin boy. He then became the captain of a commerce vessel and is attacked by pirates, his young son Kit, is the sole survivor of the ordeal and sees his father slain by the pirate leader. Kit, then washes up on a distant African shore and is befriended by the Bandar, a tribe of friendly pygmies, who raise him and become his adopted family. After discovering the body of the pirate who murdered his father, Kit swears an oath on the skull of the killer and makes a promise to fight piracy and injustice. His vow is carried out by his descendants for 400 years making him seem immortal to all, except the pygmies. He then adapts a costume based upon the image of an idol of the Wasaka giants, and becomes a menacing and feared figure on seas and continents, as his legend grows.
He travels with a wolf, named Devil and often rides his stallion named Hero. He leaves the indelible mark of the skull as a calling card and the adventures are often intertwined with history. One Phantom as a youth acted in Shakespear's troupe and another met Mark Twain. The very first Phantom comic book was printed in Italy and the character became so popular that when the strip was banned by Benito Mussolini, a Phantom doppleganger called the "Masked Lawman" appeared to take its place. When this failed to satisfy the Italian hunger for the strip, Frederico Fellini, wrote unlicensed Phantom adventures which were carefully copied in the style of Falk and Moore. When relations were normalized with the US, Italy continued to publish thousands of Phantom comics.
As I was reading for the hundreth time, The Skull Cave, my mother knocked on the door and asked if I was ready to go. I quickly put away my comic books and finished putting on the rest of the attire, I grabbed my black leather shoes and run out of the room and made my way downstairs and waited for then at the front door.
I watched my mother and grandmother come down the stairs and they looked beautiful, alluring and radiant. My mother was wearing an elegant Chloé, Dusty Rose 3 piece suit with jacket, camisole top, and sexy chic skirt with a ruffled split in the back. The suit had a very feminine design and was the perfect colour for spring. The jacket had a beautiful beaded and embroidered design of a rose on the lapel and with a one-button closure in front and clinched at the waist, which gave way to a little flare. The sleeves had cuff buttons and her camisole was silky satiny with spagetti straps and a beaded design on the fold. The straight skirt curved at her small hips and showed her slender, long legs to a matching pair of dusty pink leather peep toe sandals with multiple leather swirl pieces, ankle strap at back and buckle fastening. She topped it off with an spectacular straw hat called "Grace", possibly inspired by Princess Grace, one of the most elegant women of our time and the hat was outlined with soft curves of silk, rich organza and roses in a pastel pink colour.
My grandmother, wore a Chanel Boutique spring suit, set in a classic Powder Blue colour. The jacket was very elegant and in true Coco style, with four front pockets, single breast closure and the whole suit was covered in intricate details of blue and white trimmings, with a textured bow, inverted pleated back and signature Chanel matte gold buttons on pockets and cuffs. The skirt had a faux wrap style that closed in the back with a zipper & hook/eye and she also topped the ensemble, with a dark blue Italian straw hat with sinamay trim and ivory edging. She wore elegant, black leather pointed closed toe shoes with cut-out detail at front and back and I could detect her trademark scent of Chanel No.5, in the air.
My mother, then gave me a look over and approved. She then pulled a comb from her purse and combed my hair, I hated it, when she did that. When we walked out and into the front yard, debris was strewn all over the lawn, there were branches, leaves, newspapers, even toys from the neighbourhood kid's. I then heard my mother, say out loud and with that tone in her voice.
"Antonio better have this cleaned up, by the time that we get home." and we zigzagged our way through the debris.
Since the "family car", the Fiat Panda was left on the street during the night, it was covered in leaves, dirt and branches. My mother gave a big sigh and said that there was no way, that she was going to park at church with this filthy thing. My grandmother suggested to take the "other" car, but my mother looked at her and said something in french and rolled her eyes. So, then I suggested we take it to the car wash, she looked at me and then her watch and said that we just might make it on time and we were off.
As we drove into the Church of San Francesco, I saw some of the "socialites", who were apparently waiting for my mother and grandmother at the steps of the church. As I was getting out of the car, I saw the look the other women gave my mother, it was a look of pury envy and even though they were all very well dressed, they simply couldn't hold a candle to the beauty and elegance of my mother. From the many times that I overheard their conversations, I felt that they were very jelous of my parents as a couple, yet it was my father, who was the topic of many of their conversations. Everything from his soccer games, job promotions or the latest gift he had given my mother. I think that deep down inside, my mother relished that feeling, she knew that she had the man every woman wanted but couldn't have.
When these piranhas saw me, I crinched. It was a wave of hugs, kisses and the hurtful pinch on my cheeks, there was one lady in particular, Mrs. Di Franco, she was a pleasant but very nosy lady in her early sixties and the closest friend to my grandmother. She always, had to remind everyone how much I resemble my father and pinch my cheeks.
"Good morning, Dante. How are you this morning?", and smiled.
"I'm doing well, Mrs. Di Franco and yourself ?.", I would fake a smile.
"Very well, young man. You look soo handsome in your suit, everyday you're growing up so fast and look more and more like your father. How is he today?." and would look at my grandmother and mother.
Now, this was tricky. I mean, these were all married women, and not every husband would accompany his wife to church. So, a sunday service would mostly be mothers, children and old people and you would hardly catch a glimpse of a husband in service, unless they were newly weds and were still fresh in mind with Father Ettore. So, I had to be careful as to not to lie and yet give a respectable answer to cover my father's ass.
"He's very well Mrs. Di Franco. With last night's storm, he stayed home to clean up the debris that is littering all over the house." and I gave the widest and most pleasant smile I could fake.
"And Mr. Di Franco?." I smiled and asked.
"Oh, fine dear and also doing the same." she lied and forced a smile.
As we made our way in and walked through the front doors, Father Ettore stood there greeting everyone and would welcome you to sunday service and shake your hand. As we made our way to our bench, which was all the way to the front of the church, I could feel people, looking at us and paying close attention to our every moment and some of the old men would bow to my mother and grandmother and others parishioners seemed to glare and yet, it seems that my mother, grandmother and circle of friends were oblivious or simply didn't pay any attention.
After the very long service, which I had only caught bits and pieces we made our way out and we would have a small conversation with Father Ettore. By that time, I was dying of boredom and could not stand the suit any longer, but ofcourse I had to suck it in and be at my best behaviour or there would be hell to pay later. Once outside, the cooler breeze made me feel better and couldn't wait to get home and play in the yard. Then, as my mother and grandmother were having a conversation with the "socialite piranhas", I saw Father Ettore making a straight line for me.
"Hi again, Dante." and he extended his hand to me.
"Hi Father Ettore, my mother is over there." I pointed to her.
"Yes, I can see that but I wanted to have a talk with you." and he smiled.
"Tell me, did you understand the lesson, that I brought up in church?." and looked at me.
I thought, lesson?. There was a lesson to learn from all that babble?, and nodded.
"Ahh, I'm glad that you were paying attention, tell me Dante, how is your father doing?." and he crouched to my level.
Now that I was seeing, Father Ettore up close, he looked like a pleasant man and not as the grouch and mean preacher that people spoke about. He had a nice shade of green eyes, clean shaven, perhaps in his early fifties and very good looking. Also with a nice set of pearly white teeth, rosy coloured cheeks and his hair was completely white.
"He's fine, Father Ettore." I answered, and then he placed his hand on my right shoulder and said.
"Next week, we're going to be having our Easter Service and then a small reception with drink and food. Please, tell your father, that I hope he can make it.", and smiled.
"I will tell him.", I said.
"You're very cute Dante. You'll grow up to be as handsome as your father, you're the spitting image of him.", and I felt that I could see something in those green eyes..
"Please, tell him that I enjoy watching him, when he's playing soccer and I never miss a single game.", and then he gently stroke my cheek and went to talk to my mother.
I then approached my mother and asked her if we could go home, she looked at her watch and excused herself from her friends and we made our way to the car. On the way home, my mother spoke to my grandmother completely in french and I could understand that they were deciding what dishes to bring for mass next week. As we pulled up to our driveway, we could see that my father had spent the morning cleaning up the mess and was almost done, he was putting the garbage bags on the driveway for the garbage truck to pick up on monday morning.
My father, was still wearing his Umbro sweat shirt and pants and was covered in sweat from head to toe. As we got out of the car, my father then started to give us catcalls and wolfwhistles, I thought this was funny and for a second, I forgot that I was mad at him and gave him a smile. My mother and grandmother on the other hand, were not pleased with the act and then my mother asked.
"Antonio, did you take the fish out of the freezer to defrost.?", she looked ticked off.
"Yes, dear. I've already marinated the fish and it's in the oven, it should be ready in about half an hour." and threw her a kiss in the air.
My mother looked surprised and didn't say anything, she just started walking to the front door. Then, I heard my father say softly....
"You're welcome, dear." and started to whistle a melody.
I was walking towards my father about to give him the message that Father Ettore, had given me when I heard my mother yell out.
"Dante, I want you out of those clothes, before you do anything else.!", and stormed into the house. My grandmother then smiled and waved to follow her.
I looked at my father and he also motioned me to go inside, so I walked with my grandmother and headed indoors. I went up to my room and changed clothes, I put on my Umbro soccer shorts and t-shirt that my father had recently bought me and hanged my suit on the door knob outside of my room, so that my mother would take it to the cleaners.
Once outside, I didn't see my father anywhere and then heard a noise coming from the garage. I walked to the garage and stood by the door, there he was looking for something and when he saw me, he called me over.
I quickly noticed that he was now shirtless and his well developed tanned body and handsome face were covered with beads of shiny sweat. I looked up at him and my eyes roamed to his magnificent, well muscled hairy pecs, the strong neck and broad shoulders and the beads of sweat that were running down his flat hairy stomach and into his running shorts. As I got closer, his perspiration was raw, masculine, and intoxicating.
"Hey, Sport. You look good, c'on mere!." and motioned me to come over.
"You like the shirt and shorts?.", and gave me one of his sweet smiles and at that moment I found it hard to be upset with him.
"What's wrong?. Mmm..........What's on your mind?.", and I stared at those alluring, hazel eyes that could melt any heart, yet I managed to say.......
"You didn't come to church and that's why everyone is mad at you.", I looked at him and frowned.
"AH,...... you too?.......My little prince is also upset with me?", and he smiled.
I then pulled away and got angry, I didn't like it when he mocked me. I think he sensed my sudden change and by the look on his face, showed me that I had hurt his feelings by pulling away.
"Hey,.... now wait a minute Dante. I'm sorry, if I gave you the wrong impression.", and he looked a bit sad.
"You don't come with us to church and that's why mom's upset and I'm angry because I have to spend every sunday at church with them, instead of YOU!." and I pouted.
I tried to understand the look that he had on his face, but I think he was doing the same with me. He then gave a big sigh and said.
"I'm sorry. You're right, I should have gone with you and not left you to fend for yourself with your mother and her friends. God knows, how annoying they are!.", he sighed again and closed his eyes.
"Specially Mrs. Di Franco!.", I said and that made my father laugh and come back to life.
"Come here and give me a hug!", he kneeled and spread his arms.
As I got close and gave him a big strong hug, I felt the intense heat of his body and loved the feeling of his hairy chest pressed against mine. When we were face to face, he looked me right in the eyes and very sweetly blinked at me, smiled and gave me a big kiss on the cheek. He then told me to close my eyes, because he had something to show me.
I closed my eyes and heard that he was pulling something heavy on the floor. He then told me to open my eyes and I saw, that he had pulled the big crate right to my feet and this was the same crate, where I had found all that cool stuff such as the trophies, newspaper articles, boxing gloves, etc. He took out the boxing gloves and put them on me, I must have looked perplexed and he told me that this used to be his old boxing equipment and old junk, and the trophies, he got those when he used to box professionally.
I thought this was so cool that my father used to be a boxer and by the glowing look on my face, he knew that I wanted to hear all about it. He then took the gloves off and put them back in the crate and said.
"I think we should be going in now, lunch must be ready and we don't want to be late.!", and then rolled his eyes. He grabbed his sweat shirt that he had thrown on top of a box and put it on.
I smiled and nodded, he then pushed the crate against the wall and covered it with an old blanket. He grabbed my hand and as we were walking towards the garage door, I remembered the message of Father Ettore.
"Dad, Father Ettore told me that he was hoping to see you next sunday at church.", and I looked up at him.
He then stopped, looked at me and he looked serious.
"Did he say anything else?.", and stood there.
"Mmm....just that he never misses your games and that he enjoys watching you play.", and I smiled.
Then, he smiled and we walked out of the garage.
To be continued!