"Oh, why we can't get married? Tell me please!!! Why not? He asked, with
tears of love in his eyes (because, even if we can't see it, all the toys
can laugh and cry). And the ball, who always was very mean with him,
answered: "I'm gonna tell you the truth......i'm in love with a swallow. And
you're inferior to mr. That's why i can't love you, or get married with
you....." Bob's story was suddenly interrupted by a dog's cough which shook
all Jonathan's little body and let him breathless.
"The ball is so mean!" He sentenced, with a weak voice. His daddy had read
that story to him a zillion times, maybe more, and he knew perfectly how
that Hans Christian Andersen's frustrating story of love between toys was
going to finish, but he couldn't help to feel anger against the ball every
time he heard it. She always despised the poor spinning top because he loved
her. That was his sin. Jonathan knew how terrible it was....to give love and
just receive despise in a different kind of love. Despise.......or even
worse, indifference.
Bob closed the book and bent down a little, presssing the kid he had in his
lap against his chest and left it over the small table in front of him. Then
he leaned back slowly to the confortable green couch again.The house was in
an almost complete silence, just interrupted by an almost imperceptible
whistle in the child's breathing Bob could feel how fever was consuming him
in his lap......he wondered which kind of father was Rcik, leaving his son
alone and sick.
"I think you need some rest now..." He looked at the white old clock in the
wall. 8:15 am. And the kid's grandma? Maybe she had a problem with her old
noisy car or something......it was almost funny to imagine that lady trying
to change a rim in the middle of the way, with that unbereable sun.
"Well....." He said, holding him harder to stand up and take him to his bed.
"Naw.......Jonathan meowed, tired, and rubbed his itchy nose against the
man's chest. He introduced the tip of his index finger in his nostril,
trying desperately to get something out of it.
"Lemme check it......" Bob lifted his head back and carefully, to not hurt
his button nose with his nails, took something out of his nose. Something
disgusting. "Ok....." He cuddled the child's feverish body and inhaled
deeply his sweat " i better take you back to your bed........so you can get
better and go back to school".
"I don't want to sleep!!" He protested, joining all his strenght to make Bob
desist. "And i hate school!"
"Why?" Bob asked, and his long and rough fingers, friends of a lonely self
love, went towards the nape of the child's neck and massaged it very softly
with his fingertips. Jonathan closed his eyes slowly and sighed deeply. It
felt fine. His small body relaxed for the stimulus, and Bob's was getting
more and more tense. He slid his fingers in the child's shoulders, his
shallow and hard breathing contrasting with Jonathan's imperceptible and
deep one. He didn't knew exactly why he was doing it......whcih perverse
element was pushing him to do that and feel in that way.......but he knew he
couldn't help it. Even if he tried, he couldn't stop. And he didn't wanted
to anyway. When his dirty hand reached his sweaty and delicate back, he felt
how the burn in the south of his body was getting umbereable...he fantasized
about not rubbing only Jonathan's neck or shoulders.....he wanted
desperately, in that precise moment, to tear up his infantile clothes, as a
sick starved animal would, and take his entire innocent body with repulsive
passion. To hear that body screaming for the pain , for the
humiliation..........Bob closed his eyes and lifted his head back, almost
tasting that thought. His half opened mouth let escape a moan of pleasure,
and the rub in Jonathan's body became umbereable intense.
"OUCH!" He complained, bringing Bob back to reality. He looked at him up,
noticing something strange in his eyes...something he couldn't describe. Bob
tried to smile at him, blocking his feelings. "And....."He tried to ask
something .." And....why you don't want to go to school?"
There was a deep sigh followed by a long silence after his question. It was
obvious that he was hiding something. He was delaying to give an answer,
trying to invent something to justify his silence. Bob caressed his hair.
Which kind of problems would have a kid of his age at school? Bad grades?
Nah....all the little kids has good grades.......So, it maybe could be......
"Because of the other children? Are they mean with you?"
Bob felt him agreeing with a movement of his head, still mute. The man
hugged him hard, and Jonathan reacted with a mix of affection and
desperation, pressing his body against Bob's chest, as if he wished to sink
in the man's heart. Definitely, he had skin's hunger. He was screaming for
love. But the man had a different concept of that word..........very
different. It was the same kind of feeling he had for Michelle. He really
loved her. With all his heart, soul..........and body. "They hate me....."
He finally dared to say, ashamed. "They hate me because i'm different and i
can't run as them because if i run, i......" He stopped, not wanting Bob's
pity. He looked at his fingernails (they were long....nobody had cut them in
a long time), absentminded, trying not to think in the hell he had to pass
all the days at school.
"L-last time....." He continued...he couldn't stand it anymore, to have it
all locked inside. "Last time i was in the swing........and......and
Mikey......he's an....idi*"He changed it, remembering how his dad used to
get mad at him when he heard him saying such words........he is mean with
me.......i was in the swing and.....and he shoved me.....and i fell on the
ground". He showed to Bob a scar in his knee, product of the hard fall. "But
i didn't cry!" He lied, and remembering, not without a depp sadness, how he
came back from school that day, his pants broken in the knee area, crying
and complaining of Mikey's cruelty and how he hated school.....and his life.
How his daddy, his dear and sensitive daddy, told to him, as if they were in
a military school : "Stop crying, DAMNIT! Are you a man or a butterfly?"
Taking daddy's words, he looked at Bob's eyes and added: I NEVER cry. I'm a
man. Not a butterfly!"
The doorbell rang. "Well, i think your grandma is here......" Bob sat
Jonathan in the couch and looked again at the clock. 8:32 am. His boss was
literally going to kill him. But it was kind of worth. Every second he spent
with that kid, nearing him to his own abyss, was definitely valuable. "I
think i gotta go now....:" He kissed fastly Jonathan's left cheek. He, who
wasn't used to that expression of love, cleaned it with his hand, with a
hurricane's fury and a disgusted grim in his face. "UGH! You kiss like a
dog!"
Bob stood up and stretched his long body, trying to ignore Jonathan�s last
words. Children could be adorable, but really mean when they wanted to.
�Mr Ma.....Mr....:�
�Call me Bob� He said, smiling , and added, friendly: I guess i can call you
Jon, right? Your name it�s too long!�
�Yeah.....uhm....when i get better.....can we....uhm...� He scratched his
head. It was something hard to say. He was afraid of receive a negative
answer from Bob. �Can we go to the park to play? I mean....when you are not
busy.....� He corrected. Bob had a lot of things to do for sure. His own
daddy always was too busy to go with him. And he needed urgently a male�s
image. Somebody to make things that only males do. To get into a world where
the girls have no access.
�Sure! I would love it!� Bob�s enthusiasmic answer made him happy. The door
bell rang again, insistent. But Jonathan had something else to
say.......something that the man never would forget...and eventually would
take advantage of. �Bob......� �Yes?�
Jon played with his toea, avoiding Bob�s face, and said, in a shy voice:
�Wish you were my daddy�.
Bob sat beside him, and rounded him with an arm. It w as one of the biggest
compliments he had received in his whole life. The door bell rang for third
time, but he couldn�t care less now. �I would love to be your daddy too,
Jon� he said. �But why uo say that? You already have a dad.....�
�My real daddy hates me� He interrupted, and sighed deeply, biting his
bottom lip to hold his tears back, but one of them escaped and fell down his
left cheek. The same one Bob had kissed a while ago. He kissed it again, not
finding a new rejection, and tasting the sadness in the salt tear. �Don�t
say that, silly!� Bob said. �Of course he loves you! He.....he just.....� He
stopped trying to find a possible reason of why Rick couldn�t show his love
towards him. �Your dad has some problems.........that�s why he�s grumpy
sometimes......but he loves you......�
Jonathan shook his head and his naughty tears rolled down his cheeks. He was
tired of pretending how �strong� he was. �He hates me.....he hates me
because i make him spend a lot of money�.
Where he had heard that?
�I heard my daddy talking with my grandpa once� He answered to Bob�s
thoughts. �They were talking in the kitchen and they thought i wasn�t
listening to them, but i did....� He said, a little ashamed....it wasn�t ok
to listen private conversations. �My daddy was saying he didn�t had money
because he had to spend all his money in the hospital....it�s all my
fault.......and my mommy hates me too�. Every time he mentioned the word
�hate�, it was like a thorn in his heart. Bob didn�t said a word. He needed
to let it out of his chest. It would relieve him in some way.
�Once .......�He sobbed and rubbed his eyes for that sweet memory he had in
his mind.....�my grandpa took me to the zoo.....and i saw...i saw a baby
tiger with his mommy, she always protected him and she was always with
him......if my mommy loves me, why she�s not with me but it�s with my
sister? He asked, a little jealous of Alyssa, his little sister. That was a
really intelligent argument for a little child of his age. Even the beasts
used to take care of thier babies, and protect them with thier own lives.
�why they hate me? Because i�m sick? Because i�m ugly and bad? They would be
better without me!!! � He cried hard.That last sentece had touched one of
his most intimate fibres.
Bob put him again on his lap, and hugged him very hard, cuddling him. �Don�t
even dare to say that!!!� He knew there were some things he prolly would
understand right now anyway. �Your dad pays the hospital ecause he loves
you....because he hates to see you sick. Do you think he would do that if he
hates you? I don�t think so.......� The intimal contact caused goosebumps on
the man. Having him there, so near......so indefense. �And your
mom.......she sure loves you too....she just has passed a lot of things
lately......and if you don�t know......some cocodriles eats their own
children!!!!� He joked.But Jonathan didn�t heard it. He was thinking in
other things. �Bob......�
�Yeah?�
�Am i gonna be sick my whole life? Will i have asthma attacks all the time
forever?�
Bob decided to be honest with him. �I dunno Jon.....but maybe you can stop
going to the hospital all the months someday!� That thought was enough to
make that kid smile. It would be great not to be sick all the time!!
The doorbell rang for zillion time. Thet had forgot the grandma!!! �Well,
and now........� He cleaned up Jonathan�s wet face with his hand. �Hope your
grandma doesn�t notice that you have been crying.....she would kill me if
she thinks that i made you cry!!!�
�Bob......i still wish you were my daddy you know? He looked at Bob�s eyes
with determination. �Can you be my daddy? It can be our secret.
Please.......�
�Everyti me you need me, i�ll be there� Bob answered, smiling. �I�ll be your
daddy. But it�s our secret, ok? We don�t want your real dad to get jealous,
right?�
Stolen Innocence pt 3