�Yeah, yeah, so funny I forgot to laugh!� I grumbled back at him with a half-hearted smile. Slumping down at the kitchen table with him and my dad, I began to eat the cereal and drink the juice my dad had prepared for me. I was always so self-conscious around Deng, because I didn�t want the handsome, full-hearted man to know that I had sexual thoughts about him. Also, he was always talking and bragging about the great piece of ass he had last night! The great piece of ass he had the night before! And the great piece of ass he was going to have tomorrow! All that talk always stimulated me. But it wasn�t the talk about all those girls with the great tits or great pussies! Nope, it was all those mental pictures in my head of Dengaro�s naked, sweaty body and his erect, rock-hard cock, is what got my young juices a-boilin�. And then I�d usually end up feeling embarrassed about my roaring hard-on. And not only that, Dengaro was constantly kidding me about something � about my big feet � my shyness with girls - my black curly hair (he would sometimes called me �girly curly�) � and, bout my poetry writing. Still, I weathered it with as much aplomb as possible because I�d gladly endure almost anything that the perfect Latino god, Dengaro Ghiles, wanted to put me through. In a way, I felt that I was somewhat of a masochist. But isn�t that love? Isn�t love, pain? My Dad hurt me by his seeming indifference. Dengaro hurt me from his sometimes cruel, intrusive attention.
I suddenly saw Dengaro waving his hands in front of me, saying, �Hey! Hey! Are you in there, bubble-head?�
�What? Oh! oh!� I heard myself responding as I brought my mind back to the present. Saying, �I must have been daydreaming!� I ducked the flying hands, slid up off the chair and walked over the sink, and deposited my juice glass and cereal bowl.
�Yeah! It seems he always daydreaming about something, lately!� I heard my dad snidely remark, as he got up and placed his cup in the sink. He shot a disapproving glance at me.
�What time you gotta be over in Yorktown, Bill?� quickly interrupted Dengaro, unfastening his belt and beginning to shove his loose shirt tightly down inside his trousers
Instantly my dad began to go into his cautioning lecture about me not having any of those freaky friends of mine loitering around the house during his two-day absence in Yorktown on business. He reminded me of the list of phone numbers of places where he could be reached should there be any kind of problem. He then went on to say that maybe Dengaro could drop in on me to make sure I was okay.
�Oh, yeah, Dengaro Ghiles, the babysitter, huh?!�, laughed the foreman, as he re-fastened his belt. �I don�t think so! And besides, who�d want to baby-sit for a big lunkhead dummy like this curly-haired dolt!�
I don�t know why, but I felt myself flinch with that remark.
Realizing that I was annoyed by his remark, Dengaro laughed all the louder and harder at me. �Awh, look, Bobbito�s getting pissed! His face is getting all flushed! Hey, Bobbito! Bobbito! Did I say something wrong, girly-curly!�
�Fuck you!� I retorted, heading for the kitchen door. I wondered why Dengaro was being unusually cruel. But, whatever the reason, at that moment, I decided to just shut down all feelings for him.
�That�s enough of that language, mister� interrupted my dad, ��and stop teasing him Deng! You know how sensitive he gets!�
�Awh, the little fart can't take a joke! He�s so sens-sa-tive! Oh, get in the truck before I kick your ass, boy!�, laughed Dengaro. Turning to my father, he asked �How old is the brat anyway, Bill?�
�He turned eighteen back in February, Deng, you know that!�, replied my dad.
�I guess I just keep forgetting. He looks so much younger!� replied Dengaro. Then he called out to me with a �Yo, birdbrain, I guess we�re gotta have to beef you, huh?�
�Whatever�, I thought, as all three of us wandered out onto the walkway toward the front of the house. I led the group, rapidly moving toward Dengaro�s truck. My dad and Deng animatedly talked business and exchanged parting remarks. When I reached the truck, I jumped up inside.
Ah, the arousing aroma of Dengaro�s scent immediately filled my nostrils. For a several seconds, mental images filled my mind of having seen Dengaro from my bedroom window at this exact point, earlier; and of what had happened to my bedspread a few seconds later. Ah, my entire body shuddered from head to toe with the memory.
Those arousing mental pictures quickly dissipated when I heard my dad shouting good bye to me. I waved, then watched as my dad jumped into the steel grey BMW and sped down the driveway.
With my eyes closed, I listened to the sound of Dengaro�s large boots crunching loudly on the gravel as they traveled across the driveway toward me. My heart beat like that of a frightened, newly caged beast. Then, as if like magic, there was the square-jawed, wide-eyed, patrician-nosed Latino, with the perfect teeth and more perfect smile, beaming at me through the driver�s window
part 3
