Date: Tue, 06 Dec 2005 09:05:42 +0100
From: A.K. <andrej@andrejkoymasky.com>
Subject: In Full Flight - 04/10 (t+t+m - High School)

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IN FULL FLIGHT
by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2005
written on September 17th 1993
translated by the author
English text kindly revised by Brian

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USUAL DISCLAIMER

"IN FULL FLIGHT" 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.

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CHAPTER 4 - Caught

But not everything was to go so smoothly.

Daniel had his heart and mind so full of his Giovanni that he started to
pay less attention to his studies. Not that he was bad but, while his
average mark was usually 75%, he had dropped now to a mere 60%, a plain
pass; this meant that on rare occasions he even got some marks of 50%.
His parents became aware of the fact. They noticed that their only son
seemed to be calm, but absent-minded; and also that there were often
unexplained times between the end of lessons and his arrival home. When
they tried to talk about this with Daniel, he was, of course, evasive in
his answers.

So it was that, thanks in part to newspaper articles and TV stories, his
father became convinced that his son had entered the world of drugs.
Perhaps nothing serious yet - his wife assured him that there were no
trace of needle-marks on Daniel's arms, and that she had never seen him
with his pupils dilated... But his occasionally rather absent air, his
poorer results at school, his sudden and inexplicable (at least to them)
moments of euphoria, his "going out for a stroll" after school, and
sometimes in the evenings too, made Daniel's father suspicious. Without
Daniel's suspecting it, his parents started to check up on him.

For some months nothing happened.

Daniel ended his second-to-last year at his high school, and he came of
age. Once again with the complicity of Pietro, he spent another ten
splendid days full of passion with Giovanni, this time at the San
Domenico Hotel in Taormina. Then began his final year of study.

In December...

One morning when he was at school, his mother, rummaging amongst
Daniel's things in his room in search of the imagined drugs, noticed
that beneath the clothes, the wooden bottom of the closet was slightly
raised. She tried to lift it up with her fingers, but couldn't. Looking
around, she saw a metal rule on her son's work-table, which she used to
pry it open.

The board came up. Between it and the drawer below there was a kind of
false bottom, which concealed a big, orange envelope. His mother took it
and opened it anxiously. But she didn't find the small doses of white
powder that she'd feared. Instead, she found some pictures of her son
with a young man, some notes, letters... She thumbed through them,
reading here and there... And her world crumbled in on her.

Sentences like "I am the luckiest man on this earth, Daniel. I don't
know if I am more in love with your beautiful soul or your sexy body,
which knows how to give me such incredible pleasure..." or, "My Love, I
don't think that if one of us had been a woman, our union could have
been more beautiful and complete - rather, the opposite! Our masculinity
exalts each other's manliness each time we make love and unite so
profoundly..." and also "It is so sweet being yours or making you mine,
that each time I feel I could die from happiness, so intense is our
sex..."

The woman's hands trembled. She looked for a signature, but there was
always just a G followed by a full stop. Not a hint, not an address. But
that G. must be the young man in the pictures, that was clear. She
turned the picture to look for a dedication, something, but there were
only dates. From the dates, she realised that the story had been going
on for at least a year! Under their very noses! But who was this man who
had led astray, who had corrupted their child?

The woman put the board back in place, slipped the envelope in her
handbag and, upset, went at once to her husband at the shop, and showed
him everything.

The assistants saw the woman arrive tense, more than nervous, and call
the owner into the small rear workshop.

Soon afterwards, they heard the man's angry voice.

"What can the matter be?"

"She's probably found out he's cheating on her..."

"No, in that case it would be her screaming. I don't reckon she knows
anything about our boss's relationship. He's really discreet, and so's
his lover too..."

It was lunch-time closing. The boss came out of his office followed by
his wife. His face was like thunder. He told the chief assistant to look
after opening again in the afternoon, as he and his wife had urgent
business to attend to.

"Did you see his face?!"

"And his wife too!"

"Something really bad must have happened. Perhaps their son..."

"Who, Daniel? No way! He's a good boy... Modern, self-assured but
serious, composed. No. It must be something else..."

"Who knows... family squabbles perhaps. I know there's always been a
certain tension between the boss and his brother. Inheritance problems,
money..., I think..."

When Daniel came back from high school for lunch, he realised at once
that something was not right. His usual cheerful "Hi, here I am!" was
greeted with silence; yet he knew his parents were already at home, and
he could also hear the sound of chairs in the living room... He put down
his books and opened the living room door.

Disaster struck. Waving in his hand Giovanni's pictures and notes -
Daniel recognized them at once, as well as the orange envelope on the
table - his father asked him furiously: "What does all this mean?"

After an instant of frozen silence, Daniel felt blind rage rising inside
him: "Why have you been going through my things? Give me everything
back!" he shouted, upset, his face scarlet, and he hurled himself
against his father to take back the pictures, the notes and letters that
were his true and only treasure.

As soon as he came within range, his father struck him a formidable
backhander on the cheek and Daniel, still in mid stride, lost his
balance and fell to the floor.

"Don't hit him, no..." his mother pleaded.

Daniel stared at his father in bewilderment - it was the first time he
had ever raised a hand to him. Instead of dampening the boy's rage, it
only made it sharper.

"You have no right... you have no right..." he said in a high pitched
voice, rubbing his cheek reddened by the terrible slap to his face.

"I've no right? I've no right? But just as I gave you life, I'll take it
away again!" his father yelled, purple with anger.

His mother whimpered: "No, don't say that... he's your son..."

Daniel, in spite of his rage and the pain he was feeling, couldn't help
noting the "your son" instead of "our son".

His father retorted harshly: "Him, my son? No! He's just a fag, no son
of mine."

"Give me back those letters!" Daniel repeated with force, in an even but
determined voice.

"Who is the perverted bastard who wrote you these... these...?"

"He is not a pervert! And anyway it's none of your business! Give me
back those letters!" Daniel shouted again, upset.

His father, instead of giving them to him, slipped them all in his
pocket. Daniel was about to hurl himself at him again, to take back what
belonged to him; but his father, both hands now free, seized his arms
vigorously and started to shake him violently.

"You'll tell me at once who this degenerate is! Spit out his name, now!
I'll report him, I'll destroy him!"

"You can't report him, we're both of age." Daniel retorted in a
challenging tone.

"I'll destroy him. I..." his father kept repeating, continuing to shake
Daniel, until suddenly he released him, pushing him away from himself.

His mother intervened: "Calm down, Cesare... And you, Daniel, go to your
room."

"I want my things back." the lad repeated, harsh, stubborn, decided.

His mother looked at him imploringly: "Go to your room, now, please..."

Daniel gave in.

From his room he heard his parents' voices - his father's hard, upset
one and his mother's moaning. He looked around him and for the first
time in his life, the room seemed alien to him. Because it had been
violated. His most intimate privacy had been violated. His father, or
his mother, had rummaged in it... He felt rage swelling up inside him
again. He took his big travel bag from the top of his closet, and
started to fill it - his school books, some rather randomly- picked
clothes. He didn't care about his volleyball trophies, nor his other
personal souvenirs - they seemed to him useless, unimportant now. Things
he'd done just to please his parents, rather than for himself.

He heard the door to his room open and, startled, turned to look. It was
his mother. When the woman realised her son was packing, she closed the
door behind her and leaned against it.

She asked sorrowfully: "What are you doing, Daniel?"

"I'm leaving."

"Where are you going? And why?"

"Where? I don't know, but out of here. Why? I'm not his son any more,
what am I doing here?"

"But you ARE our son. He's just angry... Try to understand... When I
showed him those letters..."

At these words Daniel turned pale; he'd been hoping that his mother at
least, at least she... He felt betrayed. He said accusingly: "You
searched my things! You!"

"But, Daniel... we noticed you were... strange... I was afraid you were
taking drugs, so... and instead..."

" I bet you'd have preferred me to have been a drug addict, rather than
a fag, wouldn't you?!"

"Don't say such things... don't be wicked..."

"Right. Because you're so nice, aren't you? No... it's better I leave.
Better for everybody. What can I do here, from now on? With a mother
who, instead of trying to understand, to talk to me with an open heart,
pries around, reports... And a father who yells and threatens and beats.
Perhaps it makes him feel more virile, this way. And you... you... oh,
never mind."

"Wait, Daniel..."

"What?"

"You can't play the victim after the way you've... The people who are
hurt are Dad and me... What did we do to deserve such a thing?"

"You brought me into this world, that's what you did. And you realize
now that the product doesn't match the mould. It came out different from
what you wanted. And what does he in the other room do in the shop when
he finds a defective item, or one different from what he ordered? He
sends it back to the maker. Or else, if he can't do that, he discards it
- just like with me. You did the quality control, and he's discarded me.
So, I'm going."

"Daniel... we can work things out..."

"How exactly?"

"We can have you treated..."

"Treated? Treated! Can't you see that I haven't just caught a cold, or
measles, or viral hepatitis! Can't you see... but it's useless. Let me
pass, I want to go."

The woman seemed to hesitate, then stepped aside from the door. Daniel
closed his bag, took it in his hand and went out into the hall. He was
about to pass the living room door when it opened and his father
appeared.

Still full of wrath, his father asked: "What's up now? Where are you
going?"

"I'm off. I'm leaving." Daniel answered, stopping in alarm.

His father blocked his way: "Ah, so the young man's going away! He's
off! Thank you for the coffee, see you Mr Giusti!" his father yelled.

Daniel yelled back: "What's it now, d'you want to present me with the
bill? Do I have to pay you back? But it wasn't me who asked to be
brought into the world, was it?"

"Right. How right you are! That night, instead of fucking your mother, I
should have jerked off!" his father yelled.

Daniel looked at him full of hatred: "Or perhaps it would have been
better if you'd fucked your duty lover?" Daniel retorted icily. Then
added: "Let me pass!"

Momentarily dumbstruck, his father's fury exploded anew, and pointing at
the bag, he screamed: "Those things are not yours, they're mine, mine! I
bought all of that with my money! You're a thief!"

"Yours. Very true. So then, take them!" the boy shouted, throwing down
the big bag between his father's legs. Then he started to pull off his
leather jacket too: "This is yours too, isn't it? All yours. I'll give
you back everything, if I have to go out stark naked! I don't give a
damn! The boxers are yours too, right? I'll give you them as well, are
you happy?" he yelled, throwing the jacket at his father and starting to
unbutton his shirt.

"Cesare! Daniel!" his mother screamed from behind him.

Then his father moved aside: "Get out of here!" he said in a suddenly
calm voice, sharp like a razor.

Daniel, his shirt half undone, went to the door and opened it. He turned
back to his father and said: "Anyway, it wasn't you who paid for those
letters and pictures. You're the thief here" and went out slamming the
door.

He ran down the stairs to the street, went down the stairway at the side
of San Pietro Gate and reached Roma Square, then down towards the bus
station. When he reached the park he sat on a bench and leaned back,
panting, exhausted, drained. After he'd been there a while, unmoving,
his breathing ragged, he thought he'd better warn Giovanni. As luck
would have it, he had his wallet in the back pocket of his trousers.

He went back to the bus station, found a telephone box and called his
lover. It rang, but nobody answered. "Oh yes, he's still at the
university, today." he said to himself in a low voice. Then he recalled
they had a date for four o' clock; he checked his watch - it was 2:12.
There was no school that afternoon, so he called Pietro.

"Hi handsome! How come you're calling me?"

"Can you come to the bus station?"

"The bus station? Now? To do what?"

"Please... I need to talk to somebody..."

"Fucking hell! What's happened? God, your voice sounds awful..."

"Are you coming?"

"Have you broken up with Giovanni?"

"No. Will you come?" Daniel begged.

"Yes, I'll get my bike and come. The bus station, whereabouts? In the
bar?"

"No, I don't feel like waiting there... let's meet at Saint Giuliana
cloister, it's better..."

"All right, it's not far. I'll fly!" Pietro said and Daniel heard the
click as his friend hung up.

The boy went towards the meeting-place. As he'd guessed, at that hour
the cloister was deserted. He sat on the low brick wall, leaning against
a column, his legs folded up to his chest, looking towards the
cloister's arched entrance.

A few minutes later he saw Pietro entering. His friend hastily came
towards him and, concerned and serious, asked him: "So then, what's
happened?"

"I've left home. They found out about Giovanni and me."

"Holy shit! That really is a stroke of bad luck! But... how did it
happen? Do you feel like telling me?"

"Yes. I need to tell someone. Though my head's exploding..." Daniel
answered dejectedly and started to tell his friend.

Pietro listened, tense. At the end he asked: "So where are you thinking
of going now?"

"I don't know."

"Have you told Giovanni?"

"No, he's at the university. But we're due to be seeing each other at
four o' clock... in an hour and half. I must warn him. My father has the
pictures, but he doesn't know who he is... he wants to create a scandal,
I think."

"What will he gain by that?"

"Nothing. But he's a... well, never mind. I know him."

"Yes, I understand. My poor Daniel, I wouldn't like to be in your shoes.
But... you were really prepared to leave home stark naked?"

"Why not? For all I care right now. That way at least, I would have got
him into trouble. He was the one who lacked the courage, not me."

"Yes. You've got courage enough to spare. You've had to leave
everything... your clothes... your books... my God, what a bastard, your
old man!"

"For all I care..." Daniel repeated dejectedly.

"But you... you don't intend leaving school, do you?"

"How should I know? I'd get out of this town too, if it weren't for
Giovanni. And now... I'm just going to be a hindrance to him."

"Don't talk such bullshit! Anyway... I'm not going to abandon you,
whatever happens."

"Thanks."

"Do you have your papers, at least?"

"Yes, thankfully I had my wallet in my trousers. I also have 37,000
lira."

"You're rich, then!" Pietro said ironically.

Daniel said bitterly: "I need to look for a job. Anything but school!"

Pietro nodded thoughtfully, then asked: "You haven't had any lunch, have
you?"

"No. But in any case... my stomach's knotted."

"Yes, but in a while you'll feel hungry. Come and get a sandwich - come
on!"

"No, really, I honestly don't feel like it now."

Three soldiers passed near them and toured around the cloister,
laughing. Their rather noisy cheerfulness disturbed Daniel, but then he
told himself that his reaction was absurd.

"Do you feel like walking a while?" he asked Pietro.

They left Saint Giuliana and reached the park nearby.

"I need a coffee. Do you want one too?"

"Yes... thanks..."

They sipped the coffee at the kiosk. Daniel was stirring the gravel of
the path with the tip of his shoe. He asked his friend: "What were you
doing?"

"When you called? Nothing, I was just watching bullshit on the TV."

"I'm sorry for being such a pain in the ass for you..." Daniel said,
depressed.

His friend punched him lightly on the shoulder and answered with
affection: "You prat!"

Then after a short silence, Pietro burst out: "But good God above! Isn't
it possible to live in peace? You were so happy, with your Giovanni...
It makes me sick, this world of ours! What bastards our parents are!
It's a god job we won't father children, at least we won't be able to be
such bastards to them!"

He kept silent for a while, then resumed, impassioned: "I can't
understand parents, I really can't... If they don't agree, they don't
agree, OK! But they're not our masters, are they? They're not the old
Roman 'pater familias' any more, with the right of life or death over
their wives, children and slaves, are they? Is it possible that they
still don't realise that? It's worse than the Dark Ages, here!"

Daniel looked at him with a bitter smile: "Hey. Remember it's me this
has happened to, not you..."

"Well?! What difference does that make? Do you think my parents would be
so much better than yours? Like Novio's parents! When he came out to
them, when he was twenty... his mother cried every time she looked at
him. His father tried the ostrich technique - don't mention it, and
everything'll be just the way it was before. Novio found himself alone,
psychologically isolated, not accepted, no more nor less than you,
though without shouts and threats. In the end he had to leave home too,
even if he didn't need to slam the door behind him. What's the
difference? None. His parents bastards, yours - bastards. All this
'love' they flaunt around - and mainly our mothers. Just fiction. Stock
phrases. Love is above all understanding - or at least trying to
understand. No way! Are you a fag? Anathema, anathema!"

"My mother wanted me to be treated."

"Yeah, with an aspirin!"

"That's what I told her. More or less."

"Before it was a sin, next an illness, then a psychological problem...
Who knows what they'll dream up next time."

"Nothing, I hope. Because if they do, it'll be just another accusation
to add to the list. To them, it's actually a sin, an illness and a
psychological problem all at the same time. For them Kinsey doesn't
exist... he's never even been born." Daniel concluded gloomily.

Pietro turned back to practical matters: "Now then... do you know where
you're going to sleep, tonight?"

"No, I don't know...It's not all that cold yet... Maybe here in the
park..."

"At home, tucked up in your bed, it's not cold, sure, but outside, at
night... I think Novio could put you up. And he'd be happy to do it..."

"Thanks. But I must talk with Giovanni first, and in case... I'll call
you."

"Good. I'll start by asking him, anyway. Then you call me this evening
anyway. Promise?"

"Sure, thanks."

"It's half past three. You're meeting here, are you?"

"No, at Saint Andrea Station."

"Oh well, we still have a bit of time."

They talked some more, then Pietro took his bicycle and walked with him
as far as the railway station. As he pedaled away, he turned and
shouted: "Call me this evening!"

After a bit, Giovanni arrived. The young man noticed at once that
something had happened. He made Daniel get into the car: "What's up, my
love?"

"Start the car. Drive around. I'll tell you as you drive." the boy said,
trying hard to smile.

Giovanni started up, worried, and Daniel told him everything.

"Oh, my poor love! What a... horrible thing!"

"But now he wants to find out who you are. He's got your pictures..."

"No problem, there's nothing he can do to me. It's more you... We have
to find somewhere for you to stay. Just for tonight... we can take a
room in an hotel, while we figure out a solution..."

"But a hotel is expensive. And then... I'll be all on my own..."

"No you won't, I'll stay with you. Just a phone call home to say I won't
be back tonight. No problem.!

"You're really going to stay with me, tonight?"

"Sure! I wouldn't leave you alone in this state! What about an hotel at
Citta di Castello?"

"Wherever..."

"I know the owner there..."

"Won't he think it odd that the two of us...? he can see from our ID
papers that we live just thirty miles away... he'd be bound to think..."

"I don't care. Besides, he won't ask for your ID, he knows me. He used
to be a gardener at our villa. Would you like us to go there right
away?"

"As you like. I just have to ring and let Pietro know. He was looking
for somewhere for me to stay, too."

"You can call him from the hotel room. Let's go."

By five o'clock they were in their hotel room. Daniel called Pietro.

"Don't tell anybody where I am, nobody... No... No, I really think I
won't be coming tomorrow... I don't even have my books, copybooks,
anything... Yes, tell them I'm ill... no, better, I had to leave
Perugia. Bye bye. Say thanks to Novio for me, whatever... bye bye." He
hung up.

Giovanni, who was sitting on the bed beside him caressing him lightly,
said: "If you don't go to school tomorrow, it's OK. But you must go back
again as soon as possible. As for the books, we can buy new ones and for
the copybooks... you can ask Pietro to help you, and you'll be soon
catch up."

"I don't know... what's the point?"

"For your future. It would be crazy to stop school now, when you're just
eight months from your final graduation. I want you to get that
diploma."

"But I don't want to be a burden on you. I want to find a job..."

"Shush. Don't talk nonsense. I want to help you, and in any case you can
look for a job after you graduate. Unless you don't want to study at the
Academy...? We'll find you a room downtown, and we'll buy the books and
clothes and everything you need. I've got maybe even too much money, you
know that, and if I can't use it when I need to, what have I got it for?
And if I can't help you, who else have I got to help?"

"But..."

"No buts with me. Do you love me or not?"

"Do you need to ask?"

"Yes, I do."

"Of course I love you, Giovanni! More than the air I breath!"

"So show it by accepting that I want to feel useful to you." Giovanni
sweetly said.

Daniel embraced him tightly. They kissed.

Daniel clung to him and murmured: "I need you. I need... to make love
with you. Now. Please?"

"You don't need to beg me, my love. I too need you so much, so very
much, you know that." the young man answered tenderly and, continuing to
caress him, started to undress him gradually.

Giovanni understood that his boyfriend needed him particularly in that
moment, that he needed his strength, his sweetness, his protection, his
vigour, his tenderness. He needed to feel welcome, loved, desired. And
the best way to tell him and give him all that was not so much with
words, but rather with the whole of his body. Daniel was feeling like a
shipwrecked man and he was his safety anchor. Daniel was feeling
emptied, but he could fill him with his love. Daniel was feeling
wounded, and he could care for him, heal him.

Giovanni gave the best of himself to his boy, on one of the twin beds in
the anonymous room, warmed by the last rays of the sun, but more than
that, by his deep love. It was a sweet but vigorous union where the boy
found shelter in the young man's body, found solace in his lover's
desire, found peace in the boundless love that Giovanni was offering
him. Their union was complete and they reached ecstasy together. While
Daniel relaxed in his arms, Giovanni saw that his beloved's face was now
more peaceful, relaxed, almost smiling.

The boy's voice rose fresh and clear like a small fall of spring water:
"Where would I be without you, Giovanni?"

"It's my fault you're in this mess now..."

"No. Not your fault. Nor mine either. Nor of our love. It is just the
fault of the meanness of others..."

"How... how do you feel, now?"

"Regenerated. I don't fear anything else, as long as I know you love me.
I feel strong again."

"Good." The young man smiled and kissed him tenderly on his lips. "So
then, what about going downstairs for something to eat? It's 8:37
now..."

"But after supper, Giovanni, can we come back here to make love again?"

"With joy, my beloved. With real, deep joy."

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CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 5

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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 (really appreciated, be it positive
or negative), please e-mail at

andrej@andrejkoymasky.com

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