I had the unhappy idea to tell Martin my decision. He was the only one to whom I felt close enough to tell. Unhappy, because he thought it was his duty to tell Dad. My father said nothing to me, but alerted the men of the staff. They said they would not lose sight of me. I was preparing to sneak away completely unaware. Even if now, in my own opinion they were naive preparations. But at seventeen, one feels ready to face the world, has an excessive trust in his own potential, in his own possibilities, in his own skills. One night when I felt I was ready, I silently crept out of my room, slipped a note with a short message under Martin's door, crossed our garden, threw my bag over the wall and jumped it. And found myself virtually in the hands of the men on watch, lead by Bruce. I don't think I ever hated somebody as much as I hated that loyal officer of my father. They took me back to my room. They didn't even bother about calling my father. But Bruce stopped in my room.
"So, you now keep a closer watch on me?" I asked him, with hatred in my voice.
"No, I want just to talk with you, Dave." he answered quietly.
"But I don't want to talk with you, not at all!" I answered cantankerous, hitting the bed and turning my back to him.
"You don't need to talk, Dave. It's enough you that listen to me. I don't know how it will end, this duelling between you and your father's career. For years now I've been paid to help your father to reach his goal. I am loyal to him and I will do all that is in my power for your father. As long as I can, I will not allow you to threaten his career." he said in a calm voice.
I listened to him with a mixture of anger, sarcasm, contempt, wrath. Dozens of terms of abuse with which I would have liked to call him, came to my lips, but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction to let him know I was listening to him, that I was evaluating his words. I wanted just to ignore him that seemed to be the best thing to do. He continued with his speech.
"But at the same time, I understand you, I think I know how you are feeling, what you are thinking, what you feel these days, at this moment. Possibly, if it were me in your place, I wouldn't act so much differently from you. Really, Dave, I'm being honest. I'm not trying to coax you. You and I never had the chance to talk seriously, for a long time, but I think that now is time to do it."
I would have liked to burst in laughter, I would have liked to kick his balls, I would have liked to... I don't know what. It drove me mad to hear him talk as a pseudo-psychologist, as a well trained dog. But I stubbornly continued to keep silent, still, not deigning to give him a glance, an answer. He was not discouraged by my attitude and quietly continued.
"I am thinking about how to find the best solution for your problem -- the best for you and for your father. For you too, honestly. It is evident that this situation cannot continue as it is endlessly. This is not good for you and for... no one. You don't want to, or can't change, or a little of both. Give me the time to find a solution, don't stir up more problems and I swear to you that I will do all the possible to help you."
'Give me back Rick, or Ken...' I thought with rage. 'Who do are you trying to kid, with your fine speech?' I shouted inside me, but I didn't open my mouth, I didn't change my attitude. I was just waiting until he got tired, he went away, he left me in peace. Anyway, I would not yield. Or rather, I could pretend to give in, to then cheat on them at the right moment. Or perhaps I would start to make advances to all the males I could get hold of, I would shout from the rooftops, 'I'm gay!' I would...
"Do you understand that if you raise other problems, it would might lead to decidedly unpleasant solutions? One of the staff advised your father to lock you in a nursing facility, do you understand what this could mean, don't you? You would be a prisoner there, for years. In seclusion from everything and everybody. You father of course didn't want to hear of it, and I agreed with him completely -- this is not the solution. But if you carry things too far, that suggestion could come up again, you understand, and it would be your attitude to give it more strength than before."
So, then, here are the threats -- the usual system of the carrot and the stick. And that threat was effective, in its terrible possibility and simplicity. I never thought about such a possibility and I was now more than scared, I was terrified. If this was what Bruce had in mind, the bastard succeeded. Now my head was in complete turmoil, and besides the wrath that was not subduing, there was now, sharp as a blade, fear. I don't know what Bruce said after that, I no longer listened to him.
After a while I became aware that there was silence, and understood that Bruce was gone. Almost mechanically I switched off the light, quickly undressed and curled up under the quilt. But it was a good while later before I could fall asleep. In my head overlapped, piled up incoherent thoughts, but one was more and more making its way among the others -- if I could not live as I wanted, if they succeeded in preventing me, there remained just one way out for me, to kill myself. The last, final solution.
Next morning Martin, found my message (that I had forgotten) came trembling to my room. He saw I was in my bed deeply sleeping (it was not long before that I fell asleep) and he sighed in relief. He didn't know I tried to run away and that I was caught immediately. He thought I changed my mind or just postponed my flight. He kept the note in his pocket, without showing it to anybody.
He came back to my room a little before lunch time. I was still sleeping. He sat on the edge of my bed and, shaking and calling me in a soft voice, waking me. When at last I opened my eyes and saw he was looking at me worriedly, I wearily greeted him. I must have had an horrible expression, because Martin asked me if I was OK. Then he showed me my message and asked me what it meant, as I hadn't run away.
"I did run away, but they caught me right away." I said with a faint voice.
"But, where were you thinking to go, what were you going to do?"
"Far away... be free."
"Dave! How? And where? You are still a minor, you have no money, no job. Can you guess what would happen if they let you do such a thing, now that the campaign for the presidentials is about to start? They are powerful, you know that. Even if you succeeded, you would have the police and secret services right behind you, you can believe it. I already told you, it is not that the solution."
While he was talking me so, he was caressing my hair. It was an unusual affectionate gesture, or better to say, what Martin used to do with me many years before, when I was a little kid and he an adolescent. When children we were rather close, but now I had the feeling that our relation cooled down. Now that gentle gesture came back spontaneously. And I had a terrible need for affection.
For the first time in years, I started to cry. Not a hysterical crying, only silent tears dripped down my cheeks. He saw them and dried them with his finger. He was moved, I think.
"Dave, my poor little brother, you are suffering a lot." he murmured sweetly.
"I am lonely, Martin, and I am alone, I have all of them against me." I said with broken voice.
He seemed to think for a long while, then said: "I also left you alone too much, didn't I?"
"Yes."
"Right. And I have been wrong. Dave, if you can still believe me, I promise that I will never again tell what you will confide to me, not to any of them, not even to Dad or Mum. If you want to be open with me, if you want my help, I want you to know you have an ally in me."
I needed that. I had a crazy need of that. "Do you really swear me you will keep secret anything I'll tell you? Anything and everything, Martin? Even if you think I am wrong, that I do wrong?" I asked him taking his hand and staring in his eyes.
"I swear, Dave!" he answered resolutely.
I read the sincerity in his eyes. I decided to trust him.
But, to be even more certain, I said: "Martin, I want to trust you. I need to trust somebody. But beware, don't betray me. If you betray me, I'll kill myself."
It struck him like a bolt of lightning, he hugged me very tight and said in my ear: "No, Dave, I will never ever betray you. I was wrong once, I will not repeat such a mistake. They will never again know a single word of what you confide me, I swear. I thought I was doing right, that's why I told them about your idea of running away, but I will never, ever do such a thing again. I swear, Dave. I swear!"
Someone knocked at my door to warn us it was lunch time.
"I'll take a shower then come downstairs, Martin." I told him.
"All right. And after lunch, if you like, we can talk more. Any time you want, Dave. Count on me."
"Thank you."
He went downstairs. While I was showering I thought through the conversation I just had with my brother again. Yes, I believed him, I needed to believe him. And I felt slightly better. I dressed and went down for lunch. Nobody said a word about my unsuccessful attempt to run away. Junior was quietly discussing with my father and my mother about the presidential campaign, Mary Ann was talking with Martin about her boyfriend. Martin from time to time threw me a glance in which I could read warmth.
After the lunch I went to the garden. I sat near the gazebo, between it and the greenhouse, where there was a bench under the wisteria. After a while Martin came. I gestured him to sit near me. And I told him what Bruce told me last night. And about my despair, about my determination to kill myself if they prevented me from living my life. Martin was listening in silence. I opened completely to him, for the first time. I told him everything about me, my experiences, my two relationships, my loneliness, my fantasies. I also described for him in detail how I made love -- I don't know if I wanted to shock him, to scandalize him, or simply to check how he would react to some details. Martin continued to listen, at times smiling, at times serious, at times worried, without saying a word.
At the end, when I became silent, he said: "Dave, I love you, I want you to know that, I want you to never forget that."
I didn't expect such a reaction and looked at him in surprise.
He smiled and said: "In some ways I too lived similar experiences, but for me they have not been so hard, of course." And in his turn he told me about his first falling in love, about his first adventures, about "their" control so that he had to break up with a certain girl. About the stratagems he used to be able to make love with a certain girl he was crazy about but he knew they would never approve.
"But at least, for you, they found it normal you wanted to have a girl at your side. But not for me, they will never allow me to go around with my boyfriend. Moreover, it is easy for you to find a girl, for me on the contrary..." I said.
"Yes, you are right. But it is not just their fault. If our society were different, I think that they would leave you in peace."
"If I were the son of a common man, I would not have all those problems."
"Possibly not, possibly yes, who knows."
We talked some more, then I asked him: "And now, if you were in my place, what would you do?"
Martin thought for a while, then said: "I would probably try to trust Bruce, at least somewhat. He seems to me less of a bastard than the rest. In your place I would in any event pretend. I would play, at least in part, their game. If you promised them not to look for a boyfriend, you could at least go back to school, again see some friends. And meanwhile the presidentials will be over, and you will be of age. And anyway they could possibly find a solution, in one way or the other."
"Pretend... but I need a partner. I'm fed up with having to give myself vent just masturbating alone under the shower or in bed, fantasizing impossible things!"
"Yes, for me too it is also, I can understand you. But it will not be always so, right? And then, is it not true that, if you are lucky, and that sooner or later you find the right person with whom to meet without them knowing it?"
"They will not lose sight of me one single moment, now that they know."
"Dave, no matter how unfair it seems to you, try to understand them. Can't you guess, if you went with the wrong person, somebody who could use his relation with you to put to shame our father and prevent him to carry out his political career? We are not watched only by Dad's men, but also by the men of his political adversaries, ready to stir up a scandal if they just had some reason. And even some of his same party..."
"And do you think it is fair that because of this fucking shit system we sons have to pay?"
"Fair... it isn't fair, but this is the reality."
"A nice place, this country of ours!"
"I don't think that the other countries are much better -- each system has is pros and cons. And also our parents are no better or worse of many other parents. At times I ask myself how I will be towards my children... I probably will not make the same mistakes that our parents have with us, but I will certainly make other mistakes, just different." he said with a smile.
"You tell me to pretend, to wait. But if I found my Mister Right, will not they do as they did with Ken or with Rick?"
"Possibly yes, possibly no, I don't know. But if I can, I'll give you a hand, I'll back your side, I promise you."
"If I find a boyfriend, will you help me to meet him?"
"If I can, I will. At any rate I will not betray you, I swore this to you. But you now must try to have some patience. Let the waters calm down."
"Do you know where Rick is?" I asked him.
"I've heard that his parents sent him to Europe, with the pretext of a scholarship in some prestigious university. Were you... in love with him, Dave?"
"No, not really in love. We just fit very well together. It was great making love with him. We loved each other, nonetheless. I was in love with Ken, he had been my first man."
"I don't think they suspected anything, at that time, about you and Ken."
"Be that as it may they made him go away, like with Rick. And if by chance Dad really becomes the President, can't you guess? They will try to make the place around me a desert."
I decided to follow Martin's and Bruce's advice anyway.
Following my brother's suggestion, I asked Bruce to talk with him: "Listen, I thought about what you told me that night," I told him when we were alone.
"Yes?"
"You proposed a truce. I agree. But if truce has to be, I want it on clear terms: what do you want from me, what will you allow me to do? In other words, what do you ask me and what will you give me?"
Bruce looked at me in a way that gave me the impression he was asking himself if he could trust in my change. Then he slowly said: "Do you want to make an agreement?"
"I want to try, but only if the terms seem acceptable to me."
"I see. But for a pact to work, there must be reciprocal trust. How much do you trust me?"
"And you, me?"
He smiled: "All right, an armed truce, then."
"Yes, an armed truce, if the conditions are reasonable."
Bruce emitted a deep sigh, then said: "What I ask you -- not to go to Gay clubs or meeting places, not to look for adventures, not to give nobody any hint you are Gay, at least until after of the elections."
"And after?"
"Then we can make a new pact."
"And what will you give me in exchange?"
"I have to talk with the staff, and above all with your parents, of course, but what I propose is... we could find you a companion for... your fun, from time to time."
I started laughing: "You find me a bed mate? What do you have in mind, to pay a boy?"
"Well, not exactly. But if we found somebody like Rick, safe, trustworthy, we could then let you meet, from time to time."
"Why not Rick, then?"
"His parents won't allow it."
"And it will be you to choose him? Don't you think it is I, who has to like him, and he me? I'm not interested in going with a hustler, with somebody doing it just for money or other advantages, don't you understand that?"
"Yes, I understand, but..."
"Wouldn't it be easier if it were me to look for him?"
"No, Dave, it would be too risky. You could expose yourself with the wrong person and then we will be in a peck of trouble. It is simpler if you let us know, with whom you could possibly go, and then after we have verified who he is..."
"In other words, somebody you can control."
"Exactly."
"Until the presidentials... I can also continue to jack off, I'd rather that than having you choosing a paramour for me... But later?"
"Later... after several months have passed and for then... I told you I was looking for a solution."
"For instance?"
"Well, for instance, you could go abroad to continue your studies."
"Why not now?"
"Because this moment is the most delicate and because such a thing should be organized carefully and this takes time."
"Well then, Bruce. So, I renounce my private life, for sex, for all the time of the election campaign. But in exchange I want to be left in peace. And I want you to seriously think about a solution or else, as soon as the elections are over, I'll start to make proposals to all the males who are breathing, you included!" I said in a challenging tone.
Bruce smiled and gave me his hand: "I promise, Dave. Be sure that we will watch, as we also watch all your brothers."
Bruce talked with the others. A few days later he said me that the agreement had been accepted. So, my "illness" had an end. I once again started to attend my school. I started again to made public appearances with my family, acting my part of the "model" boy. I started again to have my innocuous and amazing fantasies of sex. But now I had a friend with whom to confide, my brother Martin.
I could tell him everything without problems. It was a huge relief. I could for instance tell him that I liked a guy I met, that I would have liked making love with a common acquaintance. He too gave me his confidences and we felt better and better together. I think that it was just this that helped me to be faithful to the pact.
I had seriously assumed my part of the pact. On the public transports I didn't look any more for stealthy contacts. I limited myself to daydreaming and to secretly masturbate. With the progress of the electoral campaign, the control over us was intensified, discrete but unceasing. Before the interviews, we were told what to say or not to say, how avoid to answer to inappropriate questions, how to answer "sincerely" without saying one thing.
A lady journalist asked me if I had a girlfriend. I answered that there were several girls I liked, but that I was still too young to think seriously about that. She asked me what was my type. I answered that I didn't have a physical type, and that I thought that the essential was to find one day a sweet, strong, passionate and faithful person. But that such a day was still far away.
Bruce warmly approved my answers -- of course, I gave the answers they suggested me, just saying them in my own way. Be that as it may, I must admit that I gradually felt better. The atmosphere surrounding me had gradually changed, nobody hinted anything about my homosexuality, and my father, my mother (and Junior) started to treat me again as before. Even if we all knew it was just a truce.
My father won the internal elections in his party, so he became the official candidate for his party. A gala was held to celebrate this, and afterward my father plunged headlong into the presidential campaign, backed up by all the party's organization. During the campaign, two peculiar things happened. The party had to back up some demands of the Gay community and organizations in order to gain their votes, the other was that I received a letter from Rick.
The first was really amusing to me. The problem was that the party was willing to accept some of the demands of the Gay community, as this would bring a small but important percentage of votes. But the party didn't know about "my" problem. And my father was worried that, if one day it was discovered I am Gay, it could be said that his interest on the Gay people problems was done just for a personal interest. So it started a kind of arm wrestling between my father's staff and the party.
In the end, my father had to yield -- put in his electoral program an element about some of the problems raised by the Gay community, with the promise to solve them in their favour. With Martin I commented that small "victory" -- my father had had to admit, at least, that there was a Gay community with a certain political weight, and had to accept that he had to be concerned about them, to have them as allies.
About Ricky's letter, it was a surprise that filled me with joy. It happened during one of the parties. A boy approached me -- I knew him by sight, he was the son of an important tycoon of the agronomic industry.
He greeted me, exchanged with me some words, then said me: "Let's go to have a drink."
"Well, I don't know... I don't feel like drinking, now." I said and I intended to get free of him.
"Come on, keep me company, at least!" he insisted, taking my elbow and pushing me towards the bar.
Somewhat taken aback by his insistence, I went with him, looking around for anybody to greet to have an excuse to leave him.
But when we were at the bar, he said me in a whisper: "I have a message from Rick for you."
I looked at him almost unbelieving, then said: "You know him?"
"Yes, we were school mates and for a while also intimate friends."
"Where is he, now?"
"In Heidelberg, in Germany. He sent me a letter for you. Where can I give it to you without being seen?"
"Do you know about Rick and me?" I asked him with my heart beating strong.
"Yes, he told me."
"You too are..."
"Sure. So then?"
"Give it to me now."
"They can see..."
"Listen, let's go to the toilets, in two adjoining stalls. You can pass it over the partition."
"All right. But not now. Now it will be better we part. I'll keep an eye on you. When I see you are going to the toilet, I too will come."
"Thank you."
"It is a pleasure, believe me. See you later, Dave. And I'm happy to know about you, and you about me."
"Is this a proposal?" I asked half jokingly half hoping -- I would not have been sad.
"No, I already have a boyfriend. But if I didn't..."
I finally got the letter. I opened it sitting on the toilet bowl. I was longing to read it, I was excited.
"My dearest Dave,
"At last I have found the way to get in contact with you. I didn't write you before for two reasons -- first because I thought that they would never give you a letter from me, and second because I didn't want others, intercepting it, to read it. But since they forced me to leave our country, I just thought about a way to get in touch with you. I really didn't know how, until I remembered about a friend from the high school days, Larry, with whom I had also a short relationship. If you are now reading this letter, it means you know who he is. So, I wrote him a first time just to see if he would answer, then a second time to test if he still was on our side of the river, and when he wrote me back telling me about his actual boyfriend, then I resolved to write him explaining to him in vague terms our story, and asking him if he was willing to give you a letter from me. When at last his positive answer came, I could write this letter, and send it to him asking him to secretly give it to you in person.
"When they forced me to go abroad sending me here, I was furious, but I had no means, or strength, to oppose. I truly regretted being separated from you. At first I was gloomy but now, I must confess to you, I calmed down. Here in fact I enjoy a freedom I would not even dream of in our place. It is not that here you can really do things in the light of the day, but here we are a lot more free and safe. Just to give you an idea, about three months later I discovered that an university mate I liked is gay, and that he was interested in me. Since in the students dormitory we are in two beds rooms, we asked to be put in the same room and were allowed without any problem. So now we can make love any time we feel like without worry. I think that the others understood (as we are always together, take the same courses, and take our holidays together) we are more than just friends, but nobody says anything, no witticism or bad judgements.
"He is German, his name is Klaus, is my same age and is likeable. We feel good together, his family knows about us so for the weekends and holidays we can go to his place, and his parents just changed his bed to a double bed. Can you think of such a thing in our town? They treat me as one of the family, without difficulty!
"But now, let's talk about you. How are you? How did it go for you? Were you able to calm the waters? Did you find another friend? I often think of you and really hope that life is not too hard for you, even if, knowing the mentality of our parents, but I'm afraid it is not so. Let me know, please. Tell me about you, what are you doing, what projects you have.
"You can give your letter for me to Larry, he will send it to me. Anyway I enclose my address -- if by chance you don't have problems sending me your letter directly, just do it. Anyway I think that Larry willingly would help us to remain in contact. Anyway, if by chance there is a faster way to communicate, let me know.
"With this I send you a hug, hoping to hear from you soon. I never forget the beautiful hours I spent in intimacy with you. Wishes of happiness.
"Yours Ricky."
I read the letter again and again -- I was so happy that I kissed it, read it again. I was happy that at least he was OK, now. Yes, the solution was really that one, I had to go to study abroad. I was sure they would not let me go to Heidelberg, but regardless... Even if I could not easily meet Rick, I could at least carry out my life without worries.
I answered Rick, always through Larry. In fact I could post directly a letter, but I was afraid they were able to control also the letters I could slip in any post box. I told him about me, I told him I was happy for him, and begged him to write me again. Meanwhile I talked with Martin about the idea to go to study abroad. He too thought it was a good solution, so I told Bruce also. He said that he too had such an idea, that the answer seemed possible, that he would think about it concretely.
This gave me some more strength to sustain that situation some more. When I went out from home I had always a shadow at my elbow -- officially he was my body guard, but I knew that really, more than protecting me, he was there to control me.
Meanwhile the electoral campaign of my father was proceeding full tilt. The image we showed to the public, his program, the huge electoral apparatus, all contributed to increase his popularity. We were travelling all over the country far and wide. The image of my father, and at times of all our "model" family, was all the fashion.
The PR men were happy with me, I was behaving correctly. But I, just to be sure, from time to time reminded Bruce of his promise. I didn't want him to rest on his laurels, and to think he won the match. It was after-all just a truce and I was still sharpening my weapons.
My father won the elections with a good margin and became the President. The required months for the passage of powers elapsed: with parties, speeches, ceremonies. Everybody was euphoric, but for me the day of reckoning was approaching. We moved in the presidential residence. And my father, after the solemn ceremony of the oath, fully began his functions.
I then said to Bruce that I now wanted the payment for all I did. Bruce told me that he had already moved his pawns, but asked me for one more month. I conceded it, even if with clenched fist. Meanwhile I received two more letters from Rick, always through Larry who willingly helped us. I liked Larry. I don't say physically, he really was not my ideal, but for his character.
Finally Bruce came to talk to me: "Your parents have agreed to send you to study abroad, but you can understand that, being the President's son, you will be watched both by our secret service and that of the country where you will go. Therefore, don't think you can do all as you like best, anywhere you will go. You will be more free than here, for sure, but not so very much. Do you understand? Above all you will have to be very careful not to raise scandals or situations that could damage not only your father's image, but also that of our country."
"That is it? Just like before!"
"No, somewhat better than before, but..."
"Are you telling me that I can never be free?"
"At least as long as your father will be in politics."
"And unhappily he is still young, my father." I said bitterly.
"It is not very kind what you are saying..."
"Why, are you very kind with me? Don't be a hypocrite, at least." I said with acrimony, then added with sarcasm, "Or at least try to be hypocrite in a more skilled way."
He looked at me seriously and asked: "You hate me, don't you?"
"What do you think?" I answered dryly.