Tadzio - a Death in Verona
Author: Mark A. Roeder
Date: 2024-08-06T14:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fiction; Lgbtq+; Gay
Description: In his youth, Tadzio was considered by many the most beautiful boy in the world. Now, at the age of 106, he recalls the story of his life; from 1912 Venice where he was pursued by the older man, Aschenbach, and the teen, Jashu; to WWII New York and the famous painter, Finnian, who fell for him; to 1950's Hollywood and Caleb, the teen boy who captured Tadzio's heart; and finally, to 2004 and the 13-year-old Colin, who inspires Tadzio's final work of art.
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services LLC - Kdp

Tadzio: A Death in Verona

Tadzio: A Death in Verona

© 2024 Mark A. Roeder

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  All trademarks are the property of their respective owners and no infringement is intended.

Cover Design: Ken Clark

ISBN: 9798329743784

All Rights Reserved

Author’s Note

The character Tadzio, first appeared in the novella, Death in Venice, published by Thomas Mann in 1912.  Mann’s character also appeared in the 1971 film of the same name.  Both the novella and film cover only the events of Tadzio’s life in Venice.  I’ve based the 1912 section of my own book on the events of the novella.  The rest is my vision of what the rest of his life might have been like.

A Special Thanks to My Patrons

This book was made possible in part by my patrons on Patreon.com: Russell Harkins, Albert McCann, Victor Freeman, Mark Andrews, Robert Powell, John F Callow, John Smeallie, Paul Covert, Ken Clark, Jon Lukas, Martin Jaragosky, Markus Seemeier, Cameron Smith, David Manfredi, John Webb, Urban Skeppstedt, Terry Jones, Andi, Evan Marshall, Dale Bay, Victor Thomas, Mark, Jerry Bradshaw, Yancey, Joshua Coleman, Ernest Clark, Douglas Rayner, Greg Howard, Jack, James Holtz, Tony Marquardt, Jim Hertwig, Daran Willis, John Hawk, Gerasi, Stephen Duff, Herbert Gasser, Michael Manosca, James Thomas, Steven Wall, Gerasim and Herbert Gasser.

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Check it out: https://www.patreon.com/user/posts?u=8324548 or go to patreon.com and search for “gay youth novelist”.

Acknowledgments

The amazing cover for this book was created by Ken Clark.  He, along with Jim Adkinson and David Tedesco, put a great deal of time and effort into correcting my numerous typos and other errors.  I appreciate the hard work of each.

Other Novels by Mark A. Roeder

Also look for audiobook versions on Amazon.com and Audible.com

Blackford Gay Youth Chronicles:

Outfield Menace

Snow Angel

The Nudo Twins

The Very Troublesome Ghoulish Bizarre Boy

Phantom World

Second Star to the Right

The Perfect Boy

Verona Gay Youth Chronicles:

Dark Angel

Ugly

Beautiful

The Soccer Field Is Empty

Someone Is Watching

A Better Place

The Summer of My Discontent

Disastrous Dates & Dream Boys

Just Making Out

Temptation University*

Scarecrows

Scotty Jackson Died… But Then He Got Better

The Antichrists

Bloomington Boys—Brandon & Dorian*

Bloomington Boys—Nathan & Devon*

Lawn Boy

Bloomington Boys—Scotty & Casper*

Two Boys & A Funeral

Bloomington Boys—Tim & Marc*

Bloomington Boys—Elijah & Haakon*

Bloomington Boys—Banshee*

Brendan & Casper

Someone Is Killing the Gay Boys of Verona

Keeper of Secrets

Masked Destiny

Do You Know That I Love You

Altered Realities

Dead Het Boys

Dead Boys of Verona

This Time Around

The Graymoor Mansion Bed and Breakfast

Tadzio – A Death in Verona

Shadows of Darkness

Heart of Graymoor

Come Back to Me

Skye & Colin

Marshall Mulgrew’s Supernatural Mysteries

Christmas in Graymoor Mansion

The Fat Kid

Brendan & Casper: Older & Better

Light in the Darkness

Transitions

Three Months

Dream Lives

Farm Boys

Wicked Intent

Second Chances*

There and Back Again: An Adventurous Boys Holiday

Big Brothers

The Worst Swap Ever

Lost in Tydannon: The Battle for Holbytlaton

Bloomington Gay Youth Chronicles

A Triumph of Will

Temptation University*

The Picture of Dorian Gray

Yesterday’s Tomorrow

Boy Trouble

The New Bad Ass in Town

Bloomington Boys—Brandon & Dorian*

Bloomington Boys—Nathan & Devon*

Bloomington Boys—Scotty & Casper*

Bloomington Boys—Tim & Marc*

Bloomington Boys—Elijah & Haakon*

Bloomington Boys—Banshee*

Phantom Begins

Peralta’s Bike Shop

Hate at First Sight

Born Too Late

Colin University

The Youngest Frat Bro Ever

A Boy Toy for Christmas

Purrfect Book and Curiosity Shoppe

Hoosier Boys

The Not So Secret Garden

Second Chances*

*Crossover novels that fit into two series

Adam Bluestone Novels:

Teen Idol Secrets

Falling Star

Take Two

Suddenly Real

Other Novels:

Cadets of Culver

Lake Maxinkuckee Summer

Benji & Clyde

Fierce Competition

The Vampire’s Heart

Homo for the Holidays

For more information on current and upcoming novels go to markroeder.com.

Verona, Indiana

June 2004

Chapter One

Graymoor Mansion Bed & Breakfast

My eyes briefly brushed his for the first time as I slowly climbed the stairs.  Did he smile at me?  I could not tell, but he was a beautiful boy with golden hair.  The sight of him brought back memories from the dusty corners of my mind.

“Just a few more steps,” Sean, the young man who had checked me in, said.

“Worry not.  I am as old as this house and I move a bit slowly, but I’m surprisingly mobile for my age.”

“I am sorry we don’t have an elevator, but we have not been open long.  Most of the house is still being restored.”

“No need to apologize.  Walking up the stairs is good for me.  It’s all the exercise I get these days.”

“Here we are, the second floor.  Your room is the closest to the landing and has a wonderful view of the Natatorium and the Solarium.  I highly recommend you visit both.  They are the pride of the mansion.”

“I most certainly will.  I have long had a fondness for sitting by the sea and sitting by the pool will be nearly as enjoyable.”

“After you,” Sean said as he opened the door.

I entered.  The room was beautifully furnished with antiques, a Victorian bed with a matching dresser and washstand, a lovely rug in shades of sage and purple and paintings of the seaside on the walls.

“This is wonderful.  It reminds me of other fine hotels where I have resided.  I will feel quite at home, I’m sure.”

“If you need anything, just call the front desk.  We serve meals in the Dining Room, but the kitchen will be happy to prepare anything for you at any time and bring it to your room.”

As he spoke a pleasant looking woman entered with a tray upon which was a silver tea pot, a delicate cup & saucer, and a plate with a selection of cookies.

“This is Martha, our head chef.  I took the liberty of asking her to bring this for you to welcome you to the mansion.  We’re honored to have you here.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I said.

“I’ll set this right over here by the chair.  If you need anything, let Sean know and I’ll see to it.  Now, I must head back to the kitchen.”

“Thank you very much, Martha.”

Sean smiled at me when she had departed.  “We’re very fond of Martha.  She’s an amazing chef.  She’s also an author.  Her last name is Merlot.  She wrote…”

“Descent into Darkness,” I finished for him.  “It’s a wonderful book.”

“We have another author arriving in a few days, Thad T. Thomas.”

“I am familiar with his work as well.  He’s quite talented.”

“Yes, we have quite a collection of amazing writers here this week.  I must admit I’m a fan of your work.”

“Thank you.”

“I was sad to hear you’ve retired from writing.”

“Oh, one never truly retires from writing, but I am 106.  The odds of completing any project I begin now are not good.”

“I understand and I apologize for being greedy when it come to your work.”

“Don’t apologize, I consider that the greatest compliment of all.”

“I shall leave you alone.  If you need anything, please call.”

“I will, thank you.”

Sean departed and closed the door.  I stepped to the window and gazed out.  Roses were in bloom in a garden below and I could see two structures made of glass, one with green visible inside, which must be the Solarium and the other with water sparkling in the sun, which was, no doubt, the Natatorium.

I turned to the chair by the silent fireplace, sat, poured myself a cup of tea and tried one of the cookies, white chocolate chip.  I detected a note of lavender in both the cookie and the tea.  How wonderful.  One wisdom of old age was appreciating little things.

The furniture reminded me of that in my parent’s home in Poland.  It was antique, but then so was I.  If I closed my eyes, I could see my boyhood bedroom with the then slightly outdated Victorian furnishings.  It was odd, but as I’d grown older, I had trouble remembering the present, but could remember the past with increasing clarity.  My lack of mindfulness of the present is why I’d all but given up writing.  I could no longer keep all the required elements of a good story in my head.  As I told Sean, I also did not believe I would live long enough to complete another book.  I was most certainly well past my expected expiration date.

I awakened in my chair later and glanced at the clock on the mantel.  It was time for supper.  I roused myself and headed down to the dining room.  In the center of the room was a long dining table, capable of seating at least two-dozen, as well as smaller tables and chairs placed about the room.  On the walls on either end of the table were large gilt mirrors, facing each other and creating an endless reflection.

My attention was mostly drawn to the buffet.  I no longer ate much, but I did enjoy good food and variety, which is why I stayed at fine hotels.  I selected a rosemary pork chop and small portions of herbed mashed potatoes and cooked apples.

There was plenty of room at the large table, but I selected one of the smaller tables and seated myself so as to have the widest view of the room possible.  Two other small tables were occupied, both by couples and nearly a dozen sat at the large table.  Among them was an exceedingly fit young man with dark hair and beside him the beautiful boy I had glimpsed on the stair.

The pork chops, potatoes and apples were among the best I’d ever tasted.  As I ate, I took in the details of the room, from the fine oil landscapes to the cranberry glass chandelier above.  I also caught snippets of conversation that enlivened the room.  I was an observer of life.  I noted everything, every nuance of a voice, every contour of a hand, every wave and curl of hair.  This room was a world onto itself for those with eyes to see.  Each person and indeed each object had their own story.  If I was immortal, I could not have begun to tell them all.

My eyes were drawn now and again to the boy.  In fact, he was my chief interest in all the room.  He truly was a thing of beauty with his flawless skin, lovely features, clear blue eyes, beautifully shaped mouth, and flowing golden hair.  I had long ago come to appreciate beauty in all things and this boy was a Raphael, a Vermeer, a Monet.

His eyes inevitably met mine.  He looked away modestly, then immediately turned his eyes upon me again.  He held my gaze for a moment only, and then turned his attention away with the slightest smile upon his rosy lips.

He had given me a gift, this beautiful boy, although he did not know it.  A glance from him and even the barest of smiles was of inestimable value to me.  I had long ago given up the pursuit of wealth and objects.  My heart’s desire was a moment of appreciating the scent of a rose, the notes of lovely music or the beauty of a young boy.

I temporarily broke off my observations to peruse the dessert buffet.  The choice was difficult, but I selected a small piece of pecan pie, with which I enjoyed a cup of hot tea, another of the delights of life.

My eyes met those of the boy once more before I departed.  He gazed at me evenly, neither smiling nor frowning and I treasured the experience.  I turned away with a delicate smile upon my own lips.

I passed the next few days painting and wandering the old mansion, not far mind you, at my age I did not move quickly and tired easily. I made my way to the dining room often and explored as I wished.  Stopping to sit and rest here was a joy because there was always something well worth considering.  The house was crammed full of art that would have been at home in the Louvre or the National Gallery and with endless other treasures and items of interest.  Indeed, the mansion should have perhaps been a museum instead of a hotel and yet I was glad it was a place in which I could reside rather than merely visit.

The Solarium I especially loved.  Upon entering, I breathed in the scent of living, growing things.  I had expected to find perhaps a formal arrangement of a few palms and ferns, but instead was exquisitely surprised by wandering, crossing pathways that led me through what seemed completely natural environments.  There was a small meadow of wildflowers, then a profusion of roses in red, white, pink and yellow and then a tropical area with orange trees, palms, giant ferns and banana trees.

There were, thankfully, many benches and I sat often and long on these, drawing in the beauty around me in all its forms, sight, scent and sound.  The sound was largely provided by a delightful waterfall that cascaded down over moss covered stones and by a very few birds that appeared to live here.  The Solarium was truly an enchanting place.

I had just turned from admiring the sight and scent of an angel’s trumpet, when I spotted the boy turning the bend of the pathway.  I gazed at him as he approached, drinking in his beauty as I had that of the flowers.  Our eyes met as he passed and I turned to watch him go.  He turned as well and gazed at me evenly as he had in the dining room, looking into my eyes as he walked backwards and smiling ever so slightly until he turned to disappear among the foliage.

I saw the beautiful blond boy many more times in the coming days and I must admit I came to live for my brief encounters with him.  Those encounters took me back, to not one, but two other times and places and to memories that had become clear to me in my old age.  Reminisce was another of my pleasures.

I found my way to the Natatorium, too, a wonderful location where the sun sparkled on the clear blue water in a large pool at certain times of day.  Surrounding the pool was a vast tiled floor with many chairs and lounges upon which to rest, small tables, large tropical plants that added green to what was largely a blue and white expanse and life-size statues of beautiful nude youths that looked as if they had come straight from ancient Greece.

I sat there often at a table, perusing my newspapers or my mail, which I’d had forwarded to the hotel, and gazing at the sparkling water.  Often, I was alone, but at other times a family or individual would come to use the pool.  The exceedingly fit and handsome young man was there too.  He introduced himself as Skye and told me to ask if there was anything I needed.  He looked very much like the statues that surrounded the pool.

It was so that I spent my days at The Graymoor Mansion Bed & Breakfast and I was content.

***

I had resided in Graymoor nearly a week when Sean, the helpful young man who had checked me in, approached my table in the Natatorium with a dark-haired young man of perhaps thirty at his side.

“I am sorry to interrupt, but I thought you might enjoy meeting another author,” Sean said.

“Thad T. Thomas,” I said with a smile.  “Please sit.”

The young man inclined his head and did so.

“Can I have anything brought for you?” Sean asked.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I would like a pot of tea and two cups, please,” I said.

“It’s no trouble at all,” he said and then departed.

“I’m a great admirer of your work, Mr…”

“Tadzio, please.”

“Tadzio.”

“I enjoy yours as well, Thad.”

My eyes strayed to the beautiful boy, who had entered the Natatorium half an hour ago and now swam and played with a friend.  Thad noticed.

“I suppose you think I’m wicked or perverse for watching a young boy.”

“I think rather, you see the past when you look at him.”

“Very perceptive.  I’m far too old for the joys of perverseness, but when I look at him, I see both the past and beauty.”

“Your past?” Thad asked.  I turned and gave Thad my full attention as he continued.  “As I said, I am an admirer of your work.  In all your novels, there is a reticence, something hidden, something not quite expressed and yet making its presence known.”

“You are astute.  It’s the story I could never quite tell.  The story of my life.  I was too cowardly to tell it when I was younger and now, I am too old.”

Thad gazed at me and then at the boy.

“Who does he, Colin, bring to your mind?  A boy in your past?”

“Two boys, actually.  Colin, you say?”

“Yes.  He’s Skye’s nephew. Two?”

So, at last, after many days, I had learned his name.  I gazed at the boy, Colin, for a moment.  Thad was exactly right.  He did remind me of my own past, of my own story.

“Two?” Thad prompted.

“Yes.  The first, myself, when I was barely older than Colin.  The second, a boy of fifteen some fifty years later.”

“I sense a great story here, a story that should not go untold, a story you should write before…”

“I die?”

“Well…”

“You need not shy away from the topic.  Death and I are getting quite chummy these days.  I was born in 1899.  I have lived in three centuries, the nineteenth, twentieth and the twenty-first.  I remember nothing of the first and I forget most of the latter soon after it occurs, but in between, the memories become clearer by the day.  Death lingers near me.  I am surprised every morning when I awaken and thankful that I have been given the gift of another day, or some part of a day.”

“Will you tell me, and, if I may be so bold, allow me to put it down?”

“Do you really want to sit and listen to the ramblings of an old man when you could do so much more?”

“There is nothing I would love more.”

Our tea arrived.  Thad poured us both cups.  I took mine and sipped it while gazing at the beautiful boy, Colin.

“Very well then,” I said.  “If you can endure listening, I will tell you my untold tale.”

“Just a moment, let me get my pad,” Thad said, then reached into a bag he’d brought with him.  He pulled out an iPad.

“I’m ready.”

I gazed once more at Colin, now sitting on the edge of the pool.  His beautiful face and form reminded me of a boy from long ago, of myself at fourteen.

“It was 1912.  I traveled with my mother and three sisters to Venice, where we moved into the Grand Hotel Des Bains…

Venice, Italy

June 1912

Chapter Two

Hotel Des Bains

“Tadzio.  Tadzio!”

I could not wait until I was free of our governess forever.  She could not allow me to stray even for a moment as I tried to catch a glimpse of the dining room.

I returned to the group and dutifully followed behind my mother and three sisters as we made our way across the lobby.  The bellboy led us into the elevator.  The intricately crafted wrought iron gate closed, followed by the doors and we ascended.  I was bored, so very bored and longed to escape to the beach.

In the hallway, we passed a boy somewhat older and definitely more strongly built than me going in the opposite direction.  We did not smile, but took note of each other.  Hopefully, there were several other boys residing in the hotel.  I was eager for as much freedom from females as possible.  I loved my mother and tolerated my sisters, but I was a boy and they did not understand boy things.

I wished for my own room and my wish had been granted in a way, but my room was part of a suite that I shared with my family and the governess.  I supposed being able to come and go unobserved by watchful eyes was too much to hope.  Someday.  Someday.

At least I had privacy.  I had a door I could shut, and as I examined my room, I discovered a fine view of the beach and the sea, where I would spend as much time as allowed.

Before I could venture anywhere, I had to unpack.  That was the way of things.  I opened the trunk that was as tall as me and far broader and began to transfer my suits and outfits to the wardrobe.  We would remain in the hotel for the entire season, so this was my home for the next several weeks.

My mother picked out my holiday attire, as she did nearly all my clothing.  She dressed my three sisters in dull grays, murky blues and even black, as if they were nuns, but me she liked to show off.  I must admit, I liked to show off myself.

I pulled out my all-white outfit, including the shirt with its finely worked cuffs and collar, and hung it carefully in the wardrobe.  Next was my white sailor suit with navy blue accents, then my dark navy sailor suit with navy and white bands at the collar.  I pulled out my swimsuits; one white with horizonal navy stripes and the other red with thin navy and white stripes.  I hoped to wear them often.  Then, there was the close-fitting long-sleeve cream shirt with narrow navy stripes and the buttons on the top of the left shoulder.  I was a boy fond of fashion and I knew all these looked fine on me with my mass of flowing blond hair, but my favorite was the one outfit I had been allowed to pick out myself.  I smiled when I looked at the military jacket in a navy so dark it looked almost black.  What I liked most about it was the double row of gold buttons down the front and more gold buttons at the cuffs.  I would soon be allowed to wear it again.

There were other items to put away; various hats, shoes, underwear, socks, cravats and more.  Traveling was a chore, but I looked forward to the beach, the surf, and whatever bits of freedom I could snatch.

My tasks done, I returned to the main room where mother sat at the desk, writing.  I could hear my sisters in the room they shared and the governess directing them.  I was glad I was not a girl.  While I didn’t have nearly the freedom I wanted, I had far more than my sisters.

“Mother, can we go to the beach soon?”

“Yes, yes, but you must change.  Have you unpacked?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Then change into your swimsuit.”

I returned to my room, while Mother called out to the governess to get my sisters ready.

I knew it would take them a virtual eternity to do so.  Girls could never do anything quickly and could easily stretch a minute’s task into ten, so I had no need to hurry.  I stripped naked and then considered my swimsuits, choosing at last the one with narrow red and black bands.  I pulled it on with difficulty.  It fit so closely to my body that I had to arrange my stuff carefully.  Wearing it, I felt almost naked, but that I did not mind.  I liked to be looked at and observed.  What was the point of wearing a nice outfit or even a swimsuit if no one was to notice?

Far too many minutes later, we walked down the long covered boardwalk to the beach.  Mother picked out a beach hut and an attendant set up chairs and a small table for our use.  I began to wander away, but the governess assailed me with warnings not to stray too far or swim too great a distance out into the sea.  Yes.  Yes. I knew all this.  I was not a child.

I escaped after giving my assurances.  I could not wait until I was free of female supervision, but that would be some time yet.  Do not mistake me.  I love my mother, my sisters and even the governess for the most part, but I was tired of limits, restraints, and female company.

The beach was a hive of activity, resembling more than anything a disturbed colony of bees with everyone buzzing in their various languages and running about.  The adults were, for the most part, stationary in their lounges and chairs, but the young were never still.

There were many boys on the beach, mostly younger, but it did not take long for a handsome boy close in age to me to approach.

“Bonjour, je suis Francois.”

“Bonjour, je suis Tadzio.”

We conversed briefly in French and then ran toward the sea.  Francois was handsome with long, straight light brown hair.  We swam some little distance and then dove under to search for shells.  I was pleased, but not at all surprised, to have already made an acquaintance, perhaps even a friend for the holidays.

We swam and cavorted in the water for several minutes and then returned to the shore where Francois’s little brothers began to race around us.  I surmised they were his brothers because they were quite familiar with him and spoke in French.  Francois and I soon began to chase them and they squealed with delight, especially when we caught them and tossed them onto our shoulders.  Francois introduced me to each after we set them down.  Soon, they taunted us to catch them again and the race was on.  My first afternoon at the beach had started well.

***

“Dress for dinner, Tadzio.  It will be time to go down soon.”  I sighed.  “Be a good boy and put on your white sailor suit.  You look so dashing in it.”

“Yes, Mother.”

I turned, walked back into my room and began to undress.  I was an obedient son, mostly, although not so much when Mother wasn’t around.  I did not always listen to the governess and had learned over the years just how much I could get away with before she informed my mother.  My sisters and I saw Mother fairly little.  She was forever busy with social visits and duties, and more so since the death of our father.  To us, she was a beautiful, benevolent, but stern and distant queen that we served with our obedience.  That was not so bad when I was a child, but I was fourteen now and yearned to make my own decisions and live my own life.  Soon.  Soon.

I changed into my sailor suit and arranged my hair, although I knew the governess would descend upon me with a brush to make me “presentable.”

Mother was gone by the time I returned to the main room, which was not a surprise.  The governess and my sisters soon came out and, predictably, the governess began to fuss with my hair.  I endured the ordeal as I gazed at my sisters without smiling.  They looked so very drab they were not pleasing to look upon.  I suppose they possessed some measure of beauty, but their severe hair styles and dull clothing made them look plain and almost homely.  I suppose it was to discourage suitors.  I pitied my poor sisters.  How unfortunate it was to be a girl.

When we were finally all considered presentable, the governess led us out of the room and through the hotel and to the salon next to the dining room.  There was a great mass of people there already, all dressed as finely as any of us.

Our governess found us a grouping of comfortable cushioned chairs where we could await Mother.  I seated myself at the edge of the circle, draped one arm over the back of my chair and settled into languid boredom.

The large room was noisy with countless conversations and the music of a small orchestra.  My sisters looked as bored as me, but the usually frowsy governess had a smile upon her lips as she gazed about the room and moved one of her feet in time with the music.

I had no idea how long mother would keep us waiting, so I settled into my own thoughts of tomorrow and the sea.  I gazed about me only a little, seeing what boys my age I could spot.  I saw some that were younger, but none my age.  Perhaps there would be some on the beach.

After what seemed hours, but was certainly merely minutes, one of the staff announced that dinner was served.  The room began to clear out.  The noise level lowered, but the orchestra continued to play.  I hoped Mother would arrive soon.  At least dinner would offer a distraction from what was a dull evening so far.

As I gazed at the prisms of a lamp near me, the curious feeling of being watched, observed and even scrutinized came over me.  I turned and noticed a gentleman in a tuxedo seated in an armchair near us gazing at me.  I lowered my eyes and looked away, but I could feel him still looking at me.

Mother arrived soon after.  The governess spotted her and we all stood to honor our queen, who was dressed now in an elegant rose dress with long strands of pearls around her neck.  Mother was a beautiful lady and I was proud to be her son.

I took her hand and kissed it.  She caressed my cheek when I stood, then grasped each of my sisters by the hand in greeting as the governess curtsied.

We seated ourselves again as Mother spoke to us briefly, then Mother took my youngest sister by the hand and led us toward the dining room.  I brought up the rear, as I always did.  Just before departing the salon, I turned and gazed at the gentleman in the armchair, now nearly the sole occupant of the room. He was gazing at me still, or again.  I looked at him for a moment only, then turned my head and followed my family.

The dining room was as noisy as the salon had been with scores of overlapping conversations and the clink of silver on dinnerware.  We were seated at a table near the wall and were soon served the soup course.  I was silent and still bored, but my sisters spoke quietly.  There was something comforting about their gentle voices, but I yearned for a more exciting life.  Not too exciting, mind you.  While I was a boy, I was not a rough and tumble boy like those I’d seen tussling in a park near our home.  I was tall, but slim and not overly strong.  I was not allowed to take part in the world of boys as others were.  I was kept largely inside with lessons and artistic pursuits, as if Mother feared I would turn into something wild if I was permitted to join in boyish pursuits.

As dinner progressed through its courses, including salmon which I rather liked, the sensation of being observed returned.  I searched the dining room for the man I had seen in the salon.  I found him after some effort, seated alone at a table, but he was not looking in my direction.

I gazed at him for a few moments.  There was something familiar about him.  Perhaps it was that he reminded me a little of my father in looks and age.  He was handsome and stylish, but he seemed tired and a touch sad, although perhaps he was merely bored.  Surely others were as bored by formality as I.

I turned my gaze from him and do not know if he looked at me again, but I felt from time to time as if he was watching me, perhaps even admiring me.

The lemon sorbet for dessert was the highlight of dinner, but then dessert usually was.  We repaired to our room after we finished, but later Mother led us to the veranda to sit in the evening air.

I was no less bored by this than anything else that I had experienced in Venice so far, except for the beach, but I was allowed to stand a few feet apart from my family and it was there at my post by the balustrade, that the burly boy I had spotted in the hallway approached me.

“Hello.  I’m Jashu,” he said.  His voice was deeper than mine, but that was no surprise because I was generally soft spoken.

“I am Tadzio.”

“Do you find this as tedious as I do?”

“At least.”

Jashu searched my eyes, attempting to find what I did not know, but he scrutinized me much the same as the older man had done.

“Will you go to the seashore tomorrow?” he asked.

“Most certainly.”

“I hope to see you there.”

“Perhaps.”

“I have not found others our age here.  How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

“I am fifteen.”

I nodded without displaying much interest, although the nearness of Jashu made my heart beat faster.  A boy of his size and strength could be intimidating if I allowed it, but I would not allow it.

Jashu remained and we talked.  He turned what could have been a boring time on the veranda into an enjoyable one.  We joked and he made me laugh.  He whispered insults about some of those gathered on the veranda into my ear, making me laugh yet more.  He was friendly and seemed instantly a friend.

Jashu was also from Poland.  Unlike me, he did not have a grasp of other languages and I had to tell him what some of those around us were saying.  He continually gazed into my eyes and smiled, which made me smile back.  Jashu made the time speed by and I was sorry when Mother called to me and told me it was time to return to our suite.

“Well… I do hope to see you on the beach tomorrow,” Jashu said, gazing into my eyes once more.

I nodded once slowly, fixing him with my gaze.  He looked away, then his eyes returned to mine for a moment before he turned away.

I followed along at the end as my family made their way back to our suite.  The only aspect of sleep that appealed to me was that tomorrow would come all the faster and I could once more return to the beach.

I closed myself in my room where I would have some privacy from the governess.  When I was younger, she would come into my room to make sure all was well after I had dressed for bed, but I had convinced her to stop some time ago and now I had peace.

I stripped and changed into my night shirt.  I gazed out the window at the moonlight on the sea for a time and then climbed into my bed.  I was not tired, so I picked up the book I’d placed by my bedside, one titled Maya.  It was in German, but I grasped enough to read it; I could do the same with works in Italian and French.  One language was not so different from another.

Much as I enjoyed the novel, I grew drowsy and finally had to put it to the side.  I turned off the lamp, sank into the bed and closed my eyes with hopes for tomorrow.

***

I awakened the next morning, stretched, and then climbed out of bed.  I washed my face, and then dressed for breakfast in my white outfit.  The main room of our suite was silent when I entered.  The others had already gone down to breakfast.  The governess watched over my sisters like a shepherdess tending her flock, but as a boy, I had more freedom.  Not nearly enough certainly, but I was allowed to get up when I liked and have breakfast when I liked.

I rode the elevator down to the first floor and soon entered the dining room.  Linen tablecloths, waiters, and the clink of silverware on fine china greeted me.  I spotted my family already seated and eating breakfast.  I walked to them and greeted my mother, who gestured for me to take a seat.  I had no more than sat down when I looked to my left and spotted the gentleman from the evening before, now dressed in a white jacket.  I paid him little heed during breakfast, but I had the sense that he was observing me, much as I might observe a brightly colored bird out my window.  I smiled at that.  My mother sometimes called me her peacock because I enjoyed dressing in fine clothes and took considerable care with my mass of blond hair, although not so much as the governess.

I enjoyed breakfast; toast with blackberry jam, sausages, eggs, strawberry tart and hot tea, but my mind was on the remainder of the day.

Mother announced that we would spend the day on the beach, so I hurried my breakfast to catch up with the others.  By the time my sisters had finished, so had I.

Back in my room, I chose the swimsuit with narrow white and navy bands and pulled it on, once again arranging my stuff so that it was not quite so apparent.  I pulled on a large white robe to wear over it on the way to the beach because I knew Mother would send me back for it if I did not.

After far too much waiting, we rode the elevator down to the first floor and walked to the beach, which was only a short distance from the front of the hotel.

An attendant set us up with a beach hut, table and chairs, but I cared nothing about that.  I took off my robe and after a nod from my mother, ran toward the surf.  I waded into the sea.  Finally, the moment I had long awaited had arrived.

I could go where I liked on the beach and in the sea, as long as I remained within sight and didn’t swim too far out.  My poor sisters were not allowed such range, but that was part of the misfortune of being a girl.  I was daily glad I had escaped their fate and that of all females.  What a cruel twist of fate it was to be born a girl.

Yesterday, I had thought the activity on the beach resembled a disturbed hive, but today I thought of it more as a carnival.  It had the same level of noisy activity.  Vendors walked near the huts, hawking strawberries, small sandwiches and other food items.  Adult beachgoers occupied lounges between the huts and water, while others sat in chairs around small tables.  Children played in the sand and swam in the sea.

I became aware, or perhaps was already aware, as I stood there with the waves flowing up nearly to my knees that I no longer fit with either of these groups.  I was not an adult, which was evidenced by the limits of my freedom, but I was also not a child.  While slim, my body was taking on the attributes of an adult and childish games no longer held great interest for me.  Adult needs had lately established themselves within my anatomy and created a restlessness and yearning that had not been there before.

I strolled down the beach on the wet sand, the surf coming in to wet my feet every few moments.  A gentle breeze and the warmth of the sun made this the most pleasant morning I’d experienced in some time.

Before going far, I turned onto the beach and walked among the people there, who came from many nations.  I passed by beachgoers speaking Russian, French, Polish, English, German and, of course, Italian.  A good many of them were incapable of conversing with each other, but that mattered not in the community of the beach.  All were here for the same purpose, to escape a gloomy clime and holiday somewhere different and exotic.

I spotted the gentleman again, still wearing his white jacket and now wearing a white hat with a broad black band as well.  He was seated at a table not far in front of a hut, perusing a stack of papers and occasionally glancing around.  He was a solitary figure among families and groups, making him appear somewhat out of place.

I became aware that he was watching me.  I was sure of it.  I observed him out of the corner of my eye as he did so.  I had no time to think about it because I heard my name being called.  “Tadzio!  Tadzio!”

I turned.  Francois ran toward me, took my wrist and pulled me toward the sea.  He had a collection of younger boys around him, including his brothers, who followed along as he led me to the construction site of a large sandcastle, not far from the water.

The younger boys dropped to their knees and continued their work on the nearly completed castle and outer walls.  Francois consulted me on the placement of the drawbridge and I directed him, as well as the other boys in their construction.

“Tadzio.”

I turned.  Jashu smiled at me and then put his arm around my shoulder as he took in the construction activity below us.  We remained for a few moments and then he guided me away with his arm around my waist.

Jashu spoke to me quietly, so that others could not hear, sharing with me boy secrets that my mother would not have appreciated, but I did.  I didn’t have enough of a male influence in my life and was too isolated at home.  Jashu did not live such a sheltered life and he knew secrets that I yearned to know.

We passed quite near the gentleman in the white suit and hat.  I could feel him watching us as we passed him.  Just then, Jashu told me how he admired my mass of golden hair and kissed me on the cheek.  No one except my mother had kissed my cheek before and she hadn’t done that since I was very young.  I smiled.  I enjoyed attention and admiration and Jashu gave me both in great quantity.

We were not long alone, although we were never actually alone in that great mass of people, whom I could not even begin to count.  Francois, his brothers and some of the other boys, assailed us, having finished their castle.  We ran with them into the sea and, staying fairly near the shore for the younger boys, swam and tussled with them.

I laughed as we romped in the water.  This is what I missed and needed at home, time with other boys, even the young ones, although I most preferred the company of Jashu and Francois.

All of the young boys wanted to be near me.  They slung water at me so that I would do it in return and grabbed onto me so that I would fling them off.  I might have been overwhelmed by them, but Jashu and Francois were there and we older boys looked out for each other, although I was not quite as old as the other two.

I exerted myself enough my chest heaved, but I did not mind.  I missed the opportunity to be around other boys like this at home.  If I had attended the local school, the situation would have been different, but my sisters and I were tutored at home.

Jashu gazed at me often and I thought about his kiss upon my cheek.  From the time I was very young, others had turned to look at me as I passed, but there was something different in Jashu’s gaze, something more, and I noted it was quite similar to the gaze of the older man, although I had not been so close to him.

I thought no more of it at present.  I did not wish to waste my time in thought.  Although we would reside in the Grand Hotel Des Bains for weeks, I knew the days would pass like mere moments.

I pushed my wet hair back from my face and enjoyed the sensation of water running off me in cascades.  I swam and dove with the others, but learned I could not float on my back without being forced under by the weight of the smaller boys who were too fond of jumping on me.  It did not make me angry.  Instead, it made me laugh, when I once again returned to the surface.

“Tadzio!  Tadzio!”

I slowly became aware of my mother and the governess calling to me from the shore.  My moments in the water were at their end for the time being.  True, the moments had actually lasted more than an hour if the sun was any indication, but I felt as if I had just entered the sea when I bid the others farewell and hurried to the shore.

The governess descended upon me with a towel and dried my upper body and hair.  I did not mind because I felt slightly chilly in the breeze.  A vendor drew near selling strawberries.  I asked my mother to purchase some, but she would not.  I grinned and grabbed one.  The governess tried to snatch it from me, but I dodged her and then ran.  She fell trying to pursue me, making her, my mother and those around them laugh.  I could get away with far more than my poor sisters.

It was nearly time for lunch, so soon after my theft of the strawberry, Mother guided us all inside, but promised we could return to the beach after lunch under the watchful eye of the governess because Mother intended to shop.

Unfortunately, the weather turned while we were eating.  The sky grew cloudy and the breeze turned into wind.  This much was obvious even through the windows.  While the governess took my sisters upstairs, I accompanied Mother onto the veranda to survey the weather.  Mother shivered.  The afternoon temperature, which should have been warmer, was much cooler instead.

“I fear it is too chilly to swim, Tadzio.  We will try again in the morning.”

“Mother please, I don’t mind that it’s chilly.  I want to spend time with my friends.”

“No.  You may not swim this afternoon, but…” she said, eyeing me with a slight smile, “if you dress warmly and wear a hat you may go to the beach without an escort.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

“Do not get into the water.”

“I won’t, Mother.  You know I am truthful with you.”

“Yes, but you have taken up thieving,” she said with a mischievous smile.

“I shall not make a habit of it,” I said, grinning in return.

I escorted Mother to our suite, where I changed into my long-sleeve shirt with horizonal white and navy stripes.  I walked to my door and then remembered the hat.  I chose the white floppy one because my others were too formal for the beach.  Properly attired, I walked into the main room.  It was a good thing I had remembered the hat, because Mother was there.  She surveyed me and nodded her approval.

I departed, enjoying the freedom of not being accompanied by either Mother or the governess.  My sisters would never be allowed out on their own, even if they were together, but I, a boy, was considered more capable of taking care of myself.  That struck me as at least somewhat unfair.  While it was true that boys were stronger and tougher than girls, I was not particularly strong or tough myself.  I did not engage in sports like most boys.  My main leisure pursuits were music and reading.  It was not entirely fair, but I was glad that I was allowed out on my own at times.  This was one of those times and I intended to take full advantage.

I exited the hotel and walked down the long-covered boardwalk.  The wind, while not strong, brought with it a chill.  If allowed to swim, I would have been chilly when I exited the water for sure, since I had been earlier when there was less wind and more warmth.  Even so, I would have swum if allowed because I would have been warm enough in the sea.

I could not swim.  I had been forbidden, but I would not waste time thinking about what I could not have or do.  I stepped onto the sand, alone.

The beach was not so crowded as before, but a few were swimming, which proved I could have swum if allowed.  I spotted the older gentleman.  He was out in front of his hut again, still dressed in white.  I walked past him purposely, but did not look in his direction.  I smiled to myself when I’d gone beyond him.

“Tadzio.”

I turned.  Jashu called to me as he stood with Francois.  I walked toward them, which meant I crossed in front of the older man again.  This time, I did glance at him.  He was watching me.  When I turned my head toward my friends again, I noted that Jashu looked at the man darkly.

My friends were no doubt not allowed to swim either because they were not in swimsuits.  Perhaps it was best I hadn’t been given permission.  Doing so alone would not have been nearly as much fun.

“I’m glad we found you, we’re walking a short distance through town.  The others are on the veranda.  Would you like to join us?”

I nodded and we returned to the hotel via the boardwalk.

The others turned out to be two boys near our age I did not know and unexpectedly, a girl of our age.  I was surprised she was allowed out without an escort, but then I learned that one of the boys was her brother so she had a protector.

We followed the sidewalk at the side of the street.  The beach continued on our left and stretched for a great distance along the shore in either direction.  Jashu walked by my side, almost protectively, which annoyed me somewhat.  I did not need protection.  Well… I might.  As I have said before, I am not a strong or tough boy.

The girl with us, Isabella, gazed at me often as we walked.  I was used to this, girls gazing at me.  I wondered briefly if Jashu might be jealous of the attention she paid me, but he seemed to take no note of her at all.  I wondered at this because she was a pretty girl with dark hair and blue eyes.

Jashu and I fell back a little and when we had done so, he spoke to me quietly.

“Did you see the man on the beach?  I do not like the way he looks at you.  I have seen him watch you.”

“The man?” I asked, pretending ignorance.

“The man dressed in white.  You looked at him as you passed.”

“Ah, yes!  So, he looks at me.  What of it?  Many look at me.”

“Yes,” Jashu said, gazing at me and lost in thought for a moment.  “There is something… not right in how he looks at you.”

“He may look all he wishes for all I care.  Do you know who he is?  He’s seems familiar.”

Jashu shook his head.

“No matter.”

Jashu drew in close beside me and, I might have been mistaken, but it seemed as if he sniffed my hair.

“I am glad you are here, Tadzio.  I enjoy your company.”

“I enjoy yours.  I feared there would be no boys around my age at the hotel.  I am tired of the company of females.”

I said the last part quietly so that Isabella could not hear.  Jashu looked at her for a moment and then smiled to himself.

We soon came to stores, where we window shopped.  There were many here who were obviously on holiday, but also some Venice natives.  I wondered what they thought of us invading the city and yet without tourists, Venice would not survive.

I did not care much for window shopping, except when we reached a bookstore.  I would have entered, but I had only a little money with me.  I smiled to myself, or I thought to myself, when I spotted Ll Ritratto di Dorian Gray in the window.  It was a book I knew well.  I wondered how it would read in Italian.

I turned and noticed Jashu watching me.  I quickly turned away and continued on.

“Oh, look!” Isabella said, gazing at a large white hat decorated with pink roses in the window of a millinery shop.

“I have never understood the female obsession with hats,” I said.

“You are wearing one yourself!” she said.

“Yes, but it is a plain white slouchy hat.”

“Oh, hats are beautiful.  One can never have too many.”

“Perhaps, but do they have to be so huge?  Many women go around looking as if they are wearing a platter on their head,” I said, making the other males laugh.

“Boys,” Isabella said, gazing at me in disdain.

I think she liked me less now.  Good.

We continued on, gazing into windows and watching others gaze into windows.  I was more interested in the people than what was in the shops.

“Gelato.  I love gelato,” Francois said when we came to a shop selling the said dessert.

“Let’s!” Isabella said.

We went inside to order.  When my turn came, I passed.

“Don’t you want any, Tadzio?” Francois asked.

“I’m not that hungry.”

I did not notice until we walked outside and sat at tables that Jashu had purchased two lemon gelatos.  He sat one in front of me and then sat close beside me.

“For you.”

“Jashu…”

“You must eat it or it will go to waste.”

“Thank you,” I said smiling.

“No one makes gelato like the Italians,” Francois said.

“What do the French make?” I asked.

“Everything else, of course!”

I shook my head.  Francois was entertaining.

Jashu scooted closer to me while the others talked.  He moved so close his shoulder rubbed against mine.  His nearness made my heart race, but I did not let him know it.

We talked quietly and when I turned, I was staring directly into Jashu’s eyes.  He held my gaze for a moment, searching… for what?  I looked away.  I was both excited and uneasy about the attention this older boy paid me.  I knew nothing of such matters.

Our gelato finished, we continued on, and our excursion soon became more fun.  Some of the younger boys grasped Isabella’s hands and ran, pulling her along with them as they repeated her name over and over.  We older boys ran along with them, laughing.

We ran through the streets and over the high curved bridges that passed above the canals.  Our running turned into a game of tag and Jashu forever pursued me.  I knew well he could have caught me if he desired, but he did so only as we drew near to our hotel.  He held me in his arms for a few moments and gazed into my eyes again, searching.  A part of me wanted… wanted him to kiss me, although I could barely admit it even to myself.

Isabella once more assumed the role of a refined young lady as we walked up the steps of the Grand Hotel Des Bains, but we boys continued boisterously along through the lobby and into the elevator.  We barely made it before the doors closed and there he was, the man in the white suit, still wearing his Panama hat.  We surrounded him.  It was the only way for all of us to fit.

The man gazed at me as if he could not stop himself and even smiled at me.  Francois laughed at him and whispered to the boy next to him, then watched the man, watching me.  Jashu leaned in and whispered in my ear, “He thinks he is Zeus and you his Ganymede.”  I could not help but smile and only barely kept from laughing.

The man looked uncomfortable and I felt sorry that we’d embarrassed him because he seemed a good and kindly man to me.  He kept gazing at me.  We had never been in such close proximity for so long before.  Then, he looked away and around the small enclosed space, obviously feeling rather awkward.  That did not keep his gaze from returning to me.  I modestly looked down, took off my hat and ran my fingers through my hair to straighten it.

“Second floor.”

The operator opened the doors and I stepped out, but then turned and gazed boldly back at the man, smiling only slightly just before I turned and walked away.

My heart truly raced as I did so.  I had not before been so bold, but this man gazed at me too long every time our paths crossed.  I felt as if Jashu was right in his way and that the man did pursue me.  I also sensed I had power over him and I enjoyed it.  Adults forever told me what to do.  It was a curious sensation that there was one, at least, that I could to some extent control.

I returned to our suite.  Everyone was out so I had it to myself.  I took off my shoes and lounged on the couch.

Jashu.  The man.  There was something new and exciting here.  Something beyond my previous experience.  I was not completely naïve.  In fact, despite my isolation, I considered myself less naïve than other boys my age because I read.  Oscar Wilde was my favorite.  I had read everything of his I could acquire and from his work I had learned much.  He had been sent to prison and I knew why, because of his involvement with a boy.  That made him of particular interest to me now.  I was sorry he had died.  I would have liked to have met him, but he and I were only on this earth at the same time for a very short period.

Zeus.  Ganymede.  More apt was Wilde and Lord Alfred Douglas.   Alfred was older than me by a few years when he met Wilde, but I felt now something akin to what he must have felt.

I stood and gazed at myself in the mirror.  Immodestly, I knew I was beautiful.  I had heard others comment that I was prettier by far than my sisters and I knew it was true.  Jashu and the man thought so too.  I wondered about the possibilities.

Chapter Three

The next morning, I trailed well behind my family as we walked down to breakfast.  Even before I reached the dining room, the familiar clink of silverware on china came to my ears and the scent of eggs and bacon to my nostrils.

Just inside the door, I met him, the man, dressed now in a gray coat and departing from the dining room.  When we drew level, we both stopped.  He turned and gazed at me for several moments that felt like more.  I gazed back, smiled ever so slightly and walked on.

The man was not on the beach when I arrived with the governess and my sisters after breakfast.  I looked to his usual spot, but he was not there.  I felt almost a sense of loss.  I had become accustomed to him in his usual place and without him there was an emptiness.

“Tadzio!” Jashu said, breaking my train of thought as he approached.  “I wanted to tell you something before Francois arrives.  I discovered the name of the man who follows you with his eyes, the one in the elevator.”

“You did?”

“Yes, I overheard as he was checking out.”

“Checking out?” I asked.  Jashu frowned and I feared he could detect my disappointment at his news in my features and tone of voice.

“Who is he?” I asked.

“Gustav von Aschenbach.”

“The writer?”

“Yes.”

“I thought he was familiar.  I know of him.  He is the very author of the book I am reading, Maya.  I have read other works of his.  He is very famous in Germany and well known elsewhere.  He has even been granted nobility for his volume on Fredrick of Prussia.  I must have seen his photo in a newspaper or on the back of a book.”

Jashu looked at me darkly as I spoke of the man.  No, he was the man no longer.  Now, he had a name, Aschenbach.

“Yes, he is famous.  What of it?  I am glad he is gone,” Jashu said.

He’s jealous, I thought to myself and smiled.

Jashu believed my smile was for him and smiled back.  I suppose it was for him.  I liked that he was jealous of Aschenbach, but I was saddened that Aschenbach had departed.  I would miss him.

“Come,” Jashu said, taking my hand and pulling me toward the sea.

He released my hand in a few moments, but I ran over the sand by his side.  We raced into the water, but did not go far.  I knew the governess was watching me.  She was always watching me and my sisters.  That was her job, of course, but sometimes I wished she did not do it so well.

We played in the water and were soon joined by the younger boys we had come to know, as well as Francois.  I soon became the focus of attention, which happened each day upon the beach.  When I tired and waded to the shore, the others followed.  The younger boys began constructing another fortress in the sand and I directed their efforts.  Jashu and Francois helped them with the more difficult bits, but I was the architect in control.

I grew fatigued, as I often did.  I had been so sickly as a young boy that it was believed I would not survive and even now I was never strong.  Perhaps that is why the governess admonished me when I became too active, but I still did not like her complaints.

“I’m going in.  As much as I would like to remain, I’m very tired,” I said.

“I’ll walk you,” Jashu said without hesitation.

“Goodbye, Tadzio!” called out a dozen voices as I walked toward where the governess was seated with my eldest sister.  My younger sisters played quietly nearby.

“I’m going inside to lie down,” I said, then added, “I am fine, only tired,” so she would not worry or fuss over me too much.

Even so, the governess quickly dried my hair with a fluffy towel.  I took it from her and continued to dry off.  Jashu ran to where his family sat and quickly dried off as well.  He was soon back at my side again.

We walked toward the hotel together, passing through the colonnade of pillars that led from the beach to the front steps.  Jashu remained with me in the elevator and got off on the second floor with me, even though his room was not on my floor.

As we walked down the hallway, he leaned in and kissed my cheek as he had done once before on the beach.  I was both excited and somewhat alarmed by this and turned my head slightly to pull away from his lips.

Jashu lingered at my door.  He would have come in if I asked him.  He wanted to come in, but I was unsure of what would happen if he did and also unsure of whether or not I’d want it to happen.

“I am going to take a nap before lunch, but I will be back on the beach later,” I said.  Jashu’s disappointment was clear to read upon his face.

“Will you meet me after lunch, before you go to the beach?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Meet me on the veranda.  There is a place I want to show you.  It is on the hotel grounds.”

“Okay, after lunch,” I said.

Jashu smiled, looked as if he was about to say or do something, but then nodded his head and departed.  I turned, opened my door, and entered our suite.

I walked to my room, changed out of my swimsuit and lay down.  Jashu stirred many emotions and, dare I say it, desires within me?  I knew that I was different and belonged to a tribe of others who were like me.  I did not know when I came to this realization, but it had crept upon me, little by little as I grew older until I knew it.  At first, I thought I was alone, but there were those who looked at me differently; boys like Jashu and men like Aschenbach.  I could not define the difference, but it was there.  Jashu was the first who had touched me, the first who had kissed my cheek and when he did so…

I would not think of it more at present.  My thoughts and feelings confused me and left me with a feeling of being lost.  I did not like that feeling and I was tired.  I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Later, after lunch, I met Jashu as promised.  I was still in the white sailor suit I put on for the mid-day meal.  He was dressed in white slacks and a white shirt as if he’d picked an outfit to match mine.

“Come,” he said and led me off the veranda and down the steps.

Instead of going toward the beach, we walked to the left with the veranda elevated many feet above us.  Jashu led me to the side of the hotel where a small white pavilion sat in the middle of a miniature park.  It was quiet here, peaceful, in contrast to the noisy hotel and beach.  Jashu led me into the pavilion and we sat.

“I bought you a present,” Jashu said and held out a small package wrapped in white paper covered with red and pink roses and tied with a pink ribbon.

“You didn’t need…”

Jashu waved my protest away.  “I wanted to buy it for you because I know you will like it.  It will make me happy for you to have it.”

“Thank you,” I said and took the package.

I carefully tore away the paper and revealed the copy of Ll Ritratto di Dorian Gray, which I had gazed at in the book shop window a few days previously.

“I went back and purchased it for you.  You do like it, no?”

“It’s wonderful, thank you,” I said smiling at him.

“Read the inside.”

I opened the book and there, on the first blank page was written, “To the beautiful Tadzio.  Your most ardent admirer, Jashu.”

Jashu sank down upon the floor, sat with his legs at his side and gazed up at me.  I gazed back at him and smiled ever so slightly, my heart touched by the gift and inscription.

“I adore you, Tadzio,” Jashu said and lay his head upon my knee.

I hesitated but then stroked his hair, so dark in contrast to mine.  Everything about Jashu was different.  His masculinity, his dark complexion and his body nearly a man’s.  And here he was, at my feet with his head upon my knee.

We remained like that for a long time, then Jashu looked up at me and smiled.  I returned his smile and he sat once more beside me.  He turned and gazed into my eyes.  I held his gaze and, when he leaned in, I let him kiss me upon the lips.  I did not kiss him back.

Jashu leaned back and smiled once more, then took my hand, held it for a moment, then kissed it.

“You are my beautiful Tadzio.”

I modestly looked down.  I did not know what to say to that or what to do with his admiration, so I merely allowed and accepted it.

Others drew near and our privacy was gone, but Jashu did not seem displeased.  He stood and pulled me up with him and we walked back the way we’d come.

I liked walking with Jashu at my side.  He had become something more than a friend.  He gave me attention in a way most others did not and he had kissed me on the lips, which no one had ever done before.  A part of me was now frightened, but most of me wished he would soon kiss me again.

I hugged the book to my chest for a few moments as we walked back into the hotel.  No one had ever given me a gift of admiration before.  I was filled with a sense of… I do not know how to put it into words, but the regard of Jashu made me feel valued, pursued and desired.  That is not quite what I mean to say, but that is the best I can do to describe the indescribable feeling that suffused me.

We split up momentarily in the hotel to change into our swimsuits.  I carefully placed the gift on my dresser and caressed it fleetingly, but turned my attention to changing.  I did not want to waste a moment inside when I could be on the beach.

As soon as I was dressed, I hurried outside.  Jashu was already waiting on me and, with him was Francois.  Together, we raced across the beach and into the surf.  We dove into the water, swam, and then wrestled.  I wished I could remain in Venice forever and never return to Poland.

We remained in the sea for hours.  Jashu was called away by his family in the late afternoon, but I remained with Francois and some of the younger boys who had joined us.  As before, I was the center of attention, but no one looked at me as Jashu did.

Later, after hours in the sun with my friends, I walked alone across the beach and chanced to glance up at the hotel where a man holding a cigarette raised his hand in greeting.

Aschenbach.  But no, he is gone.

My happiness in thinking I had spotted Aschenbach and my disappointment when remembering he had departed surprised me somewhat, but it did not matter.  It was not him.  It could not be him.

I did not wave back.  I was unsure if the greeting was even for me and, if not, it would be awkward if I returned it.

I thought of it no more until the next morning when my family, Mother included once more, returned to the beach.  There he was, Aschenbach, sitting in his usual place, in his dark suit, as if he had never left.  I smiled to myself and ran to join my friends.

My day passed, moment by moment slipping away unheeded.  Jashu was called away temporarily by his family, the other boys retreated to the sand and I experienced a few rare minutes alone in the sea.  I swam and then floated, enjoying the warmth and the feeling of my own body as I moved through the blue green water.

I was hungry, so after a short span of relative solitude, as much as one could have on a crowded seaside, I waded up onto the wet sand and ran onto the beach, doing three cartwheels as I neared my friends.   Jashu had returned and he caught me, causing me to fall over.  The other boys dashed in to attack and we all wrestled in the sand.  I soon escaped and, remembering the shells I’d gathered earlier, ran back toward the sea to retrieve them.

I ran with them towards my mother and kneeled before her to present her with my treasures from the sea.  The governess fussed over me and Mother wiped sand away from my forehead.  The governess cleaned my hair with a towel as mother’s disapproval at my state turned to fondness and she told me how much she loved the shells I had given her.

“I gave you shells yesterday, Mother,” said my middle sister.

“Yes, and they were beautiful too.”

Mother and the governess continued to fuss over me and clean me, then I stood.  The governess grasped at my shirt, but I was not a child.  I pulled it off myself and she wrapped me in a towel and shooed my sister out of her chair so that I could sit.  I felt sorry for my sisters.  I knew my mother loved me best.  My sisters were like little nuns, but I was her prince.

The governess handled me an orange.  I sniffed it, breathing in the citrus aroma and then began to toss it in the air and catch it, but I did not eat it.  Not yet.

I remained in the lounge for only a few minutes, enjoying the sea breeze and what sun there was peering through the hazy sky.  I then stood, wrapped the towel around me and walked toward the sea.  I could feel eyes upon me and looked over my shoulder to see Aschenbach watching me.  I gazed at him for a moment and then turned my head and continued on.

After that day, I began to watch for Aschenbach.  On the beach, in the dining room, on the veranda, chance encounters here and there; his eyes always settled on me.  He did not stare, but he stole looks and sometimes, perhaps when he was feeling bold, gazed at me for longer periods.  I had always reveled in attention.  I liked to be watched and seen.  I was as fastidious and as conscious of fashion as my mother, which is why I did not fuss when she had outfits made for me that many other boys would not want to wear.  I liked my sailor suits and I picked bathing suits that were intentionally tight because I liked to show off.

Jashu did not like Achenbach.  He gazed at him darkly whenever he spotted him.  I enjoyed his jealousy as much as his adoration.  He courted me as if I was girl and at the same time romped with me on the beach with the others.  He was older and stronger and yet I knew I had power over him.  I did not abuse it.  Jashu was my friend, but I did enjoy it.

Was this what it was like for a girl when she was pursued?  Not entirely, I was sure.  While I bemoaned my lack of freedom, I possessed a freedom that girls my age and even older could only dream about.  I pitied girls and I was sorry for them.  My mother loved my sisters and yet she made them defer to me.  They could have hated me for it, but they did not because I was kind to them when I could have been beastly.

***

Jashu’s eyes were upon me as we stood talking near the end of the colonnade with Francois, who seemed oblivious to the attention our mutual friend paid me.   Francois did not gaze upon me as Jashu and Aschenbach did.  He liked me.  We were friends, but he was not drawn to me.  It was obvious why Jashu was not jealous of him.  I smiled to myself thinking about it.

Jashu and Francois could not stay on the beach longer and were just going in, so when they bid me farewell and continued on their way, I lazily twirled around the columns, amusing myself.

When I looked back toward the hotel a handful of moments into my pastime, there was Achenbach, only feet from me.  I gazed at him, gazing at me.  I was wearing a straw hat and one of my tight swimsuits, the red and black one.  I could feel it hugging my butt cheeks and accentuating the bulge in front.  I was glad I was dressed so for Aschenbach.

I traveled just in front of him, twirling around pole after pole, always meeting his eyes when he came into view, teasing him, then I ran off onto the beach, leaving him.

Was I cruel?  Perhaps, but I liked to think instead that I acknowledged him and allowed him to see me.

That very evening, I wandered down to the lounge in my white outfit with the close collar and needlework on the collar and cuffs.   I sat at the piano and began to pick out Fur Elise, which I liked, but I played it in a range higher than normal.  I liked to change things and improvise.

I was tired, as I often was and felt lazy, but I did not want to stay in my room.  I played lazily and then I felt eyes upon me.  I stopped and turned my head.  Aschenbach.  He did not gaze at me long.  He seemed worried or upset.  Guilty, perhaps for his interest in a young boy?  I did not know, but he walked away and I continued to play.

***

Upon my arrival in Venice, I had feared there would be no boys my age at the Hotel Des Bains, but I had met Jashu and Francois.  There were a number of younger boys as well whose interests crossed mine to some degree.  Each day, I swam and played upon the beach under the watchful eye of the governess, and sometimes Mother as well, but as long as I did not stray too far into the sea, I was let be.  I again thought how I did not want to leave this place, ever.  I had long wished for a brother and here I felt I had many.  Even one companion of my age would have been enough, especially if he was like Jashu.  I had the entire summer in Venice ahead of me and yet I knew it would not be enough.

Jashu called for me at our suite and asked my mother for permission to take me into Venice proper.  She granted it no doubt because I would not be alone and she thought of Jashu as a protector because he was older.  She was correct in that.  He was my protector, but there was also more between us.

I changed into my white sailor suit because I knew Jashu liked it and soon we were off.   He draped his arm around my shoulder as we departed from the hotel and headed toward the dock where we could hire a gondola to take us from the Lido into the city of Venice.  Jashu often draped his arm over me like this or touched me.  It was as if he could not stop himself.

“I wish it could always be summer and we could always be at the seaside,” Jashu said.

“Me too, but I wonder if we’d like it so much if it was always, instead of a few weeks.  Might not we tire of it?”

“I would never grow tired of it if you were with me.”

I smiled.  It was pleasant to be adored.

The walk to the docks was short and there were many gondolas waiting.  Jashu hired one and helped me in.  We sat close together as the gondolier pushed away from the dock and then toward the city.

Jashu took my hand and held it.  I wondered what the gondolier thought, but perhaps he did not notice.  Likely, he did not care, as long as he was paid.  I liked sitting close to Jashu.  I could feel the muscles in his arm as he pressed against me.  Then, once more, he draped his arm over my shoulders.  I felt safe with his strong arm around me.

“Let us eat somewhere when we arrive!” Jashu said.

“We had lunch two hours ago.”

“Yes, but dinner is still hours away.  I wish to buy you lunch or whatever one might call it at this time of day and sit with you in a café.”

“I can…”

“No.  Please.  I wish to do this.  This outing was my idea and you will pay for nothing.  I insist.”

“You are too kind to me, Jashu.”

“I am not kind enough.”

“I love riding in a gondola.  I love how it glides over the water.  Here, it is a world of water with only a few islands to interrupt the sea.  It is so different from home,” I said.

“Venice is my favorite destination.”

“Mine too, although we have not been here before.”

When we reached the docks near the Doge’s Palace, an old man wearing a straw hat pulled us in toward the dock and Jashu helped me out.  He paid and tipped the gondolier and the old man and we moved away from the docks to walk over the bridge near the palace.

“Isn’t it grand,” I said, looking at the lines of arches two stories tall and the stonework above.

“Perhaps we should leave our hotel and move in, just you and I.”

I laughed at this.

The Doge’s Palace was on our right, the sea to our left.  Ahead were the columns that had greeted visitors for centuries, as well as the bell tower.  We turned toward Saint Mark’s Square and soon were within it.  On our right was Saint Mark’s Basilica, where the body of Saint Mark, stolen by the Venetians centuries ago, was located.

We did not enter the palace, clock tower or basilica, but instead walked across the square.  Jashu picked a café from the many around the square and we sat, once more close together, at a table outside.  At this time of day, we were the only ones there, although there were a handful of diners inside the café.

Jashu ordered bruschetta and tortellini for us to share as well as wine.  He took my hand while we waited and smiled at me as if he was truly happy.

The square was busy even at this time of day.  Most took no note of us, but the few that did wished us buona giornata and we wished them the same in return.

Jashu looked very handsome in his white tailored shirt and white slacks, which set off his dark hair and eyes.  It was not planned, but our outfits matched nicely.

Jashu gazed into my eyes repeatedly as we talked and he told of funny happenings in his past to make me laugh.  I almost thought he might kiss me again, but I knew he would not do so in public, except upon the cheek.

The waiter, who had brought our wine soon after we ordered, returned after a time with bruschetta.  I was about to reach for a piece, but Jashu held the bruschetta in his fingers out to me and I took a bite.

“Wonderful,” I said and then Jashu ate the rest of the piece.

Long before we finished the bruschetta, the waiter placed a large plate, a platter almost, of tortellini in front of us.  We began to eat as we talked and laughed and gazed at each other.

I wondered what Jashu knew that I did not.  Was I the first boy he had pursued?  If he had pursued another, had he done more than kiss him?  What was there to be done?  I was not naïve, but I was also not knowledgeable and only vague possibilities roamed in my mind.   Should I let Jashu show me what he knew or should I remain more aloof?  A girl, not a respectable one anyway, would not submit to a boy before marriage, but how did it work when the girl was not a girl, but a boy?

As I often did when things confused me, I put them aside and enjoyed the moment.  Jashu and I were sharing bruschetta, tortellini and wine and enjoying each other’s company.  He gazed at me as if I was the most beautiful boy in the world.  What was not to enjoy?

The truth was that my head was turned by Jashu’s interest in me.  The same was true of Aschenbach’s interest, although I was less sure of what he desired.  Aschenbach gazed at me from a distance, as if I was a painting or a statue.  Jashu was often by my side; talking, laughing and caressing me.  Both made me feel desired and valued and I liked things just as they were.

“Next, we must have tiramisu,” Jashu said when we had nearly finished.

“I think you are trying to make me explode.”

“No, I am trying to spoil you.”

“You already have, Jashu.”

He ordered tiramisu for us to share and we sat even closer together as we did so.  He pressed his leg against mine from time to time and the feelings this created in me made me breathe harder.

After the café, we walked around the square, admiring the architecture.  We gazed up at the top of the basilica to see the bronze horses of Saint Mark.

“Some think the horses are Greek.  They were stolen by Rome, then Constantinople, then the Venetians, then Napoleon, before they were returned to Venice,” I said.

“You know so much,” Jashu said.

“I spend much time with books.”

“Since they have been stolen so often, perhaps it is our turn,” Jashu said with a grin.

“If you wish to climb up and hand them down, I will help you take them to the Lido,” I said.

“They look very large.  I do not think even one will fit in my trunk, so perhaps it’s best to leave them.”

“The Venetians will be happier too.  Remember, that I did offer to help.  I want credit for that.”

“I will always remember.  Would you like some gelato?”

“Oh, please no!” I said, making Jashu laugh.

We continued to walk among the others in the square.  Most were well dressed and I wondered if they were present more to be seen than to take in the sights.

“Do you notice how many look at you as you pass?” Jashu asked.

“Perhaps they are looking at you.”

“Me?  No.  They are looking at the beautiful Tadzio and they envy me because I walk by your side.”

“I am not…” my voice trailed off.

“You are beautiful.  You cannot even say you are not because you know it would be a lie.”

It was true.  I knew I was beautiful.  My family knew it too.  My mother dressed me up as an ornament and I did not mind.  My beauty came from my mother.  I thought my sisters were beautiful in their way, but Mother dressed them in unflattering clothes and allowed them only severe and unattractive hair styles.  I supposed she wished to protect them, but it seemed very unfair to me.

We entered another gondola a few minutes later and settled in for the ride back to the Lido.  Once again, Jashu put his arm over my shoulders and this time, I leaned my head in and rested it on his shoulder.

“This has been a most wonderful day.  Thank you,” I said.

“You are welcome, but it is I who should thank you for spending time with me.”

I smiled.  Jashu actually meant that.

I felt grand.  Never before had a boy taken me out.  Never before had one seemed more concerned with my happiness than his own.  I wondered again if this was what girls felt when they were courted.  If so, I hoped my sisters could feel this someday.

When we landed, Jashu walked me to the door of my suite.  He kissed me upon the cheek, then, looking around to make sure none could see, upon the lips.  I did not return his kiss, but I smiled at him before he turned away.

Chapter Four

I soon returned to Saint Mark’s Basilica, but this time with my mother, sisters, and governess, for mass.  I dressed in a white shirt, with the navy military cut jacket with all the buttons.

I did not care for mass, or for church.  I thought one’s relationship with God should be private.  I was unsure if there was even a god, but thought it didn’t hurt to remain on good terms with him in case he did exist.

I bowed with the others in prayer in the candlelit basilica with Saint Mark himself nearby.  I prayed for my sisters, that they be allowed to reveal their beauty and that they have more fun.  I did not need anything for myself.  I was a sickly boy, but I was accustomed to that, so accustomed that I took it as my natural state.  I did not know how to be anything else.

I thought I saw Aschenbach in the basilica and later, in the square as we bid goodbye to Mother.  My sisters and I followed the governess through the streets and over the bridges of Venice.  How different this trip was from my recent excursion with Jashu.  I smiled to myself when I thought of him and his kiss.

I liked to stop on the bridges and gaze at the canals, but when I attempted to do so, the governess called out to me.  Yes, this was nothing like my experience in Venice with Jashu.  A part of me wished I could run away with him, be free of the governess and simply free, but I would miss my mother and sisters and I could not leave them.  My departure would grieve them and, someday, they would need me.

I lingered yet again at the top of a bridge and then I spotted him, for certain this time.  Aschenbach was quite near.  He must have followed from the basilica and through the streets.  There was no other explanation.

Our eyes met and he smiled slightly.  I thought of speaking to him, but there was no time.  In a moment, the governess would call for me.  I turned and continued on, looking back after several steps to see him watching me, following me.  My heart beat faster.

The governess called out to me, even though I had not stopped again.  What an annoying female!  I dutifully hurried to catch up to my sisters and didn’t even have time to gaze at the canal for a moment as we passed over it, but I did look back and I spotted Aschenbach, still watching, still following.

As we walked, I began to see men pouring out a white milky liquid on the stone pavers and the bases of buildings.  The sulfurous smell was unpleasant.  If this was how they cleaned the streets, surely, they could have found something less foul.  I clutched my white hat in my fist and covered my nose, but the smell still assailed me.

I was relieved when we reached the Lido, if only to escape from the stench.  I was also glad mass was over.  Oh, how it bored me!  Attending was torment, but I did so for my mother.

More unpleasantness awaited me that evening after supper.  Mother wished us all to join her on the veranda, so I dressed again in my navy suit with its rows of gold buttons and dutifully followed.  Once there, I gazed around, hoping to find Jashu or one of the other boys, but none of them were outside.

I took up a post not far from my family, leaning on the balustrade beside the stair, only feet from where Aschenbach sat at a wicker table, smoking a cigarette.  He gazed at me.  I had come to expect and anticipate this.  I gazed at him from time to time and thought again about speaking to him, but I could not do so here.  I would have to do so when no one else was about, in an empty hallway or perhaps in the lounge when it was not occupied by others.

Aschenbach gave me some diversion, but for the most part I was bored.  There was not even music, only the sound of adults talking about dull adult things.  Talking to Aschenbach would not be boring.  We could talk about his books that I had read and about why he gazed at me and followed me through Venice.  He was old, but he looked at me sometimes the way Jashu did.

Did he want to kiss me?  Should I, would I allow it if he tried or would I turn my head?  The possibility was not unpleasant to me and made my young heart race.

I heard music in the near distance and turned to see a small band approaching the stair.  It was music, but annoying music accompanied by an accordion, which I had never liked.  I did not care for the singer either when he came close enough I could see him well.  He was a strange man with red hair, unnaturally pale skin and crooked teeth.  I found him repulsive, but it was not so much his looks that repelled me, but his demeanor.  He seemed vulgar to me, cheap and disrespectful.

I was relieved when he passed me by, but he descended upon poor Aschenbach, who looked uncomfortable.  That is how the pale man with red hair made everyone feel.  I could see it in their reaction to him.  Perhaps he knew people would pay him to go away and take his so-called music with him.

The musicians left Aschenbach and worked their way down the veranda, stopping to annoy my family.  Mother and my sisters looked as uncomfortable as Aschenbach had.  The band moved on but unfortunately, soon returned to plague my mother again.  Luckily, the hotel manager shooed them away from her.  Annoying, annoying singer and horrid little man!

Then, he came toward me, singing and playing his guitar.  He stopped not a foot away and I drew back in revulsion.  I turned my head and gazed at Aschenbach, but he could not help me.  I spared the horrible man a glance, then turned away again.  Perhaps he got my message.  He stepped away from me, but unfortunately toward Aschenbach again.

Aschenbach spoke to him.  I was near but could not hear what he said.  Did he ask him to leave?  Did he ask him not to plague me?  He gave the nauseating man a few coins and he and his band, did then depart.  The hotel staff shooed them out the gate, but they soon returned and were worse than before.  The only mercy was that they did not remain long and were soon gone.

Poor Aschenbach looked stricken, but they were gone now. I hoped they would never return.  Mother soon gathered us and ushered us upstairs, but Aschenbach remained alone at his table, always alone.  How sad.

There were fewer people on the beach the next day.  There had been fewer each day for many now.  The change was gradual, which was why I had not noticed until now, but the once crowded and noisy beach was not so crowded or boisterous.  Even some of the younger boys had gone, but Jashu was still here.  I smiled when I spotted him running toward me.

“Tadzio!  Tadzio!” he called out unnecessarily and put his arm over my shoulder before pulling me toward the sea.  I smiled.  I had missed him.

“You missed out by not being on the veranda last night,” I said.

“Did I?  What did I miss?”

I told him about the horrible man and his musicians.

“I wish I had been there to save you!”

“I wanted to push him down the stairs.”

Jashu laughed.

“Well, if he comes upon the beach, I will chase him away.”

“Please do.”

Jashu gazed at me and I knew he wanted to kiss me as he had done before.  I wished we were alone so he could do so, but even though it was much less crowded, there many others on the beach.

We ran into the water, swam, dove, and wrestled.  It was no real contest.  Jashu was much stronger than me, but he allowed me to get the upper hand now and again.  He seemed happy to touch me and I was content to be touched.

Aschenbach was in his accustomed place when we exited the water later.  He watched us.  I gazed back at him and gave him a slight smile.

Soon, Aschenbach.  We will speak soon.

“Why do you encourage him?” Jashu asked, jealousy written upon his face.

“He is a sad man.  Have you noticed he is always alone?”

“He is an old man.”

“He is not so old and what of it?”

“The way he looks at you is indecent!”

“Indecent?  He merely looks and sometimes smiles.  He’s lonely, Jashu.  What does it cost me to pay attention to him?”

“You may find out if you are not careful.”

“Between the two of you, I think you are the more dangerous, Jashu,” I said with a smile.

“I would never harm you. You are my beautiful, beautiful Tadzio and I am your servant.”

I did not answer and I did not smile.  I enjoyed the power presented to me by Jashu.  There was something stimulating and exciting about an older and stronger boy willing to submit to my wishes.  What were my wishes?  That, I did not know.

We were ambushed by what younger boys remained, this time seeking our help to build an entire city in the sand.  Jashu and I let them pull us along to their building site near the water.

I stood and directed the construction of streets, homes, and buildings.  The boys, and even Jashu, followed my orders.  It was not until the construction of the city was well underway that I noticed Francois was not on the beach.  I had not seen him at breakfast either.  Had he gone?  I hoped not, but it seemed as if everyone was leaving the Lido.

We passed the rest of the morning with the younger boys.  They reveled in the attention we paid them, but that was not surprising.  Did not Jashu and I revel in the attention we paid each other?  Did I not revel in the glances that Achenbach gave me even now?

I joined my sisters and the governess for lunch.  Mother was dining with ladies elsewhere.  Achenbach was there, sitting alone at his usual table, gazing at me now and then, but looking agitated.  I wondered what problems a man of his age could possibly have, and he a famous writer no less?

I had no worries, except for being trapped in a life with too little freedom and too much boredom.  My life in the Hotel Des Bains was to my liking, if a bit repetitive, but the summer would not go on forever.  Summer never did and mores the pity.

***

My family sat on the veranda once more in our accustomed place.  My mother and sisters had arranged themselves around a wicker table for afternoon tea, but I took up a post in a chair against the balustrade.

The veranda was lovely.  I suppose most other boys would not have noticed, but I did.  It ran the length of the front of the hotel and was furnished in light summer wicker furniture.  Live palms, purple hydrangeas and many potted plants made the porch a garden of beauty.

I was surprised as I stood taking it all in by Aschenbach approaching my mother at the table.  This was unlike him.  He gazed at me, he watched me, he even smiled at me, but never had he intentionally and directly approached.

“Madam, may you permit an entire stranger to serve you with a word of advice and warning, which self-interest prevents others from saying?” he said, nervously.

Poor mother looked alarmed.  Her grasp of English was poor at best.  I was the only speaker of English in my family and, while I did not speak it well, I understood.

“Go away!  Go away immediately, do not delay!  Please, I beg you.  Take… take Tadzio and your daughters.  I implore you!  Please!  Venice is gripped by pestilence.  Please.”

I knew Mother did not understand, but she could not mistake his tone or desperation.  She looked around uneasily and grasped the pearls hanging low on her blouse, then spoke a few words in Polish to Aschenbach, which I was sure he did not understand.

He had mentioned me by name.  I did not know he knew it.  While that was a surprise, his words were a shock.  He seemed desperate for us to depart.

Mother extended her hand toward me.

“Tadzio.”

I went to her and sat on the edge of her chair while my sisters looked away uncomfortably.  I took mother’s hand and gazed at Aschenbach, who drew nearer.  Mother looked away as he reached out and delicately caressed my hair.  As soon as he had done so, he departed.

I drew Mother away from my sisters because I did not want to frighten them and told her what Aschenbach had said.  Mother had not failed to notice that each day there were fewer and fewer guests on the beach.  The lounge and dining room were quieter.  Everyone was leaving Venice.

Mother returned to her seat and I to my chair.  It was clear that Aschenbach’s warning and the earnestness with which it was given frightened her.  I, too, was frightened, but I did not want to leave this place.  I did not want to leave my friends, Jashu or Aschenbach.  I did not know if Mother would heed his words or not.  I feared both that she wouldn’t and that she would.

The next day, Mother sent us into Venice with the governess.  I dressed in my navy sailor suit with white piping and an Italian straw hat.

Venice was changed from even a few days before.  There was more trash in the streets.  Some had been gathered into piles and set afire.  The smoke made the streets and piazzas hazy and the scent mixed with that of sulfur and was most unpleasant.

I did not notice at first, but Aschenbach followed us, followed me.  I tried to wait for him, to allow him to catch up, but the governess noticed and came back to me.  She saw him too as he rounded the corner and then guiltily hid himself.  I did not know what she thought of that, but she hurried me away to join my sisters.

The trash and the fires grew worse.  It was almost as if the city was burning or trying to burn away what plagued it.  I watched for Aschenbach and spotted him once more, but I could not go to him and wondered if I would have done so had I been able.  I wondered about many things.

I had thought Venice beautiful when I visited it with Jashu, but it was not now.  Part of the change was no doubt that I was not with him when I yearned to be with him, but a pall now hung over the city.  It was as if doom was waiting to fall.  I believed Aschenbach was right.  There was pestilence here.  Even so, I did not want to leave, at least I did not want to leave our hotel and the beach.  I did not care if I went into the city again.

My sisters and I were allowed to return to the beach that afternoon.  It was quiet, too quiet, more like a cemetery than a Venice beach, but Jashu was there.  He greeted me with a grin and took my hands in his for a moment before drawing me to the sea.

I felt as if we had the Mediterranean to ourselves.  There were few other bathers and from the beach there was silence.  A part of me wished we were truly alone, but I also feared it.  What might Jashu do if there was no one to see?  What might I allow him to do?  What might he do against my will and would it truly be against my will?  The possibilities were frightening and stimulating all at once.

“I saw your suitor, the man, Aschenbach.  Have you seen him lately?  He has become a clown,” Jashu said when we had waded into the sea.

“A clown?” I did not like the word.  Jashu had never liked Aschenbach.  He mistrusted him.

“You have not been close to him, then, or you would have noticed.  He has dyed his hair, applied makeup to his face and color to his lips.  Perhaps it is an attempt not to look like an old man, but if so, he failed.  He looks like a cheap whore.”

I was a bit taken aback by Jashu’s use of the word.

“I have seen him only at a distance since yesterday.”

“You will laugh at him when you see.”

“I will not,” I said with not a little anger.

Jashu gazed at me, his brow furrowing and his lip curling.

“You like him too much.  You are being foolish, Tadzio.”

I turned my back on him and crossed my arms.  I felt his touch upon my shoulder.

“I am sorry, Tadzio, my beautiful, beautiful Tadzio.  I fear for you and… I am jealous.  I admit it.  I want you for myself.”

I turned and looked at him.  He searched my eyes for forgiveness.  The tempest in my mind calmed and I allowed him a slight smile.  Jashu looked toward the shore and then back as if he was thinking about kissing me, but refrained.  A part of me was sorry.

Instead, we swam, floated and dived as we had so many days before.  Francois and most of the other boys were long gone now.  Venice was growing empty and quiet, but we remained, Jashu and I.

The governess kept a closer eye on me than before.  Her suspicions were aroused because of Aschenbach and because I had lingered behind.  What she suspected, I was not sure, but she would not allow me to get as far from the shore as before and every time I looked in her direction, she was watching.  I wished she would go away, go away and stay away forever.

Jashu and I played in the water and while we did, we touched each other.  I ran my hand over his bicep as we struggled and then later his strong chest.  He squeezed my right buttock and then later ran his hand over my abdomen, almost down to there.

While we were underwater, he kissed me on the lips and I wondered again what would happen if we could be truly alone, with no fear of discovery.

The governess called me in, too soon, and informed me that we were leaving the beach.  I bid Jashu, ‘au revoir’ and dutifully followed the governess and my sisters at my accustomed place as the rear guard.

It was only as we were leaving that I spotted Aschenbach, seated in his customary place, wearing his white suit and matching white Panama hat.  He looked pale, very pale. His hair was darker and his lips redder, but I wondered if the paleness did not come from illness, because he did not look well.

I gave him more of a smile than I had before because I pitied him.  He smiled in return.  I could feel inside me that our time was short.

I learned how true this was when we arrived back at our suite.  Mother was there.  She told us to pack, to leave out only what we needed through noon tomorrow.  We were leaving, leaving the Grand Hotel Des Bain and Venice.

I knew this might happen.  Perhaps, I should not have given Aschenbach’s warning to my mother, but I was a truthful boy.  I could not and would not lie to my mother.  I had also seen with my own eyes the changes since we had arrived.  The beach and the Hotel Des Bains were becoming a ghost town.  Everyone was leaving.  Everyone was afraid.  I had even heard the word, cholera.

A part of me did not want to leave, but the choice was not mine.  I was thankful for that.  I wanted to remain with Jashu and Aschenbach.  I felt as if my story with each was unfinished.  I wanted to remain and see how the tales ended, but I suppose real life wasn’t like that.  Most scenes were not neatly wrapped up.  If only I had more time.

I saw both Aschenbach and Jashu at supper.  I exchanged a coy smile with Jashu, my admirer, my suitor.  He had used that word to describe Aschenbach and yet it just as easily described himself.  If only.  If only.

Aschenbach gazed at me from his accustomed table.  He did not look at all well and, although I did not like to admit it, he also looked a bit clownish.  I banished the thought from my mind and cursed Jashu for placing it there.

The next morning, I received the glad news that we were allowed to go to the beach one last time.  I would see Aschenbach there, and Jashu.  Surely, they would both be present.

I would have hurried through breakfast, but I knew my sisters would not and it took them far too long to prepare for the beach.  Once more, as countless times before, I was thankful I was a boy.

Finally, finally, we were on our way.  The beach was quieter and more sparsely populated than ever, but Jashu was there.  He smiled at me when he spotted me, but I wondered how long the smile would linger upon his lips when I told him I was soon to depart.

He took my hand and pulled me toward the sea, as he had done so many times before.  We raced into the water, dove in, and swam.  I would miss this.  I would miss the sea.  I would miss Aschenbach and Jashu.  I would miss so many things.  I thought I had the entire summer at the Grand Hotel Des Bains, but our holiday was cut short.  I understood the reason, but still, I did not like it.

Jashu kissed me under the water again.  That is something else I would miss, Jashu’s kisses and all the unrealized possibilities.  What might have happened if I did not have to leave?  What might have happened with Aschenbach, too?

We frolicked in the water, but then the weight of my departure bore down upon me and Jashu sensed it.

“What is wrong, Tadzio?”

I bit my lower lip.  I had to tell him.  I could not simply disappear without a word.

“We’re leaving.  My mother is taking us away from here.”

“When?”

“After lunch.”

Jashu’s face fell, and, masculine and strong as he was, I thought he might cry.

“You can’t leave me, Tadzio.”

“I don’t want to, but what can I do?  My mother is afraid.  You know what is happening here, surely.  Everyone is leaving.  People are dying in Venice.  The hotel and the Italians try to hush it up, but the truth seeps through.  There is disease and death here.  I cannot stay.  You must leave too, Jashu.”

Jashu turned sullen and waded away from me.  I let him.  He had no right to be angry with me about something I could not control.  I became cross with him.  Why did he have to ruin our last hours together?

I left the water.  I walked to where the governess sat with my sister.  I grasped my towel, dried off and then took it and placed it on the beach well away from where my youngest sisters played in the sand.

Jashu soon seated himself on his towel only a few feet away.  He had calmed somewhat, but I was still annoyed with him.  I gazed at the Mediterranean, ignoring him.

Jashu could only stand my indifference for so long.  He began to throw bits of sand at me.  I turned toward him and fixed him with a glare.  He kept doing it with both a smirk and slight scowl upon his features.  He began to throw small stones, not at me, but near, too near and he threw them hard, making me flinch.  He reminded me now of other boys who had tormented me.  I grew angry, grabbed a handful of sand and flung it into his face.

He pounced on me and wrestled me onto my back.  We fought.  I did not like his game.  I escaped, but he grabbed my heel and I fell.  He jumped on me.  I tried to escape, but he was much stronger.  I nearly managed to get away, but again he prevented my escape.  I used all my strength against him and was humiliated and angered further still that I could not get away.  He pulled my hair.  He was not playing.  He wanted to hurt me.

He finally let me go and I stomped away from him.  Then, when I had reached a wet and muddy spot upon the beach, he ran and tackled me from behind.  He shoved my face into the mud over and over before he released me.

I stalked away again, hating him.  He ran to me once more and then placed his hand gently upon my shoulder, but I shrugged it off and he let me be.  This was not how I’d imagined it would end with us.

I heard him walk away as I stepped to the sea.  I gazed back and spotted Aschenbach gazing at me.  I had no idea how long he had been there, relaxing in his lounge, but he had no doubt seen my weakness and humiliation.  I did not blame him for that.  He had been nothing but kind since the moment our eyes met.  I should have spent my days with him instead of Jashu, but could I have done so?

I walked on to the sea’s edge, my head bowed and then began to move a small shell about with my toe.  I walked into the surf, my hand upon my hip, knowing Aschenbach was watching, gazing at me, admiring me from afar.  In doing so, he restored my dignity.

I waded out into the water until I reached a small sandbar and then gazed back at Aschenbach.  He was focused on me, as I knew he would be.  I smiled at him, but knew he could not see my smile with the sunlight glaring off the water around me and so I turned toward the sea and beckoned to him, pointing ahead toward what we, he and I, could be.   Then, I walked on with my hands on my hips, waiting to see if he would follow once more.

He did not.  When I finally turned his chaise was empty and then… I saw two beach attendants carrying his limp form away.

I was not certain what had occurred, but now both Jashu and Aschenbach had left me.  I hoped that Aschenbach was okay and that I would have the chance to bid him ‘goodbye’ before I departed.  I did not want to have him wonder, to have him think I did not care enough to say, ‘farewell’.

The beach was dead.  Its charms gone.  All the boys I had played with in the past had departed.  I was alone.  I walked back to the shore, past Aschenbach’s empty lounge to the governess and told her I was going in.

I walked in front of the beach huts, where no one sat now and then up the colonnade where I had teased Aschenbach by parading in front of him.  I returned to my room and dressed in my white sailor suit that I knew Mother wished me to wear for lunch and our departure.

I did not wish to remain in my room alone, so I took the elevator down to the lobby where I heard whispering among the staff.  I walked out onto the veranda and seated myself on a wicker love seat.  The veranda was empty like that beach, leaving me with the feeling of having remained too long at a party.

I had sat some minutes alone when Jashu hesitantly approached.  He was dressed now in a simple white shirt with a red cravat and white pants.  He stopped several paces away from me and gazed at me sadly.

“I am sorry.  My behavior is inexcusable.  I was angry that you were leaving me.  I know you must, but I do not want to lose you, my beautiful Tadzio.”

My anger was quelled and my humiliation all but forgotten.  I patted the loveseat beside me.  Jashu quickly walked toward me, sat, turned and smiled at me, but then his smile faded.

“I have news of Aschenbach,” he said quietly.

Fear clutched at my heart.  Jashu did not like Aschenbach.  He was jealous of him and spoke of him only with scorn, but now there was sadness in his eyes.

“Is he… okay?” I asked.  It was not what I meant to ask, but I could not say the words.

“No.  He is dead, Tadzio.  I am sorry.”

Tears filled my eyes and my lower lip began to tremble.  I began to sob.  Jashu took me in his arms and held me.

“I am sorry, Tadzio, so sorry.”

I cried into Jashu’s chest as pain wracked my heart.  Now, I could never say ‘goodbye.’

I should not have been so coy with Aschenbach.  I should not have teased him.  I should have approached him, spoken to him, and then… I did not know, but I felt an opportunity lost, a relationship that now would never be.

“He died gazing at you, as he so liked to do,” Jashu said when I stopped crying and raised my head.  “I saw him.  I saw him gazing at you, trying to rise out of his chair to go to you and then he collapsed.  I did not discover he had died at that moment until later, but his last sight was of you, beautiful Tadzio and… I think he was happy.”

I cried again, but there was a smile among my tears.  I did not know exactly what I was to Aschenbach, but I felt in my heart that Jashu was correct and knowing that I had made him happy at the end consoled me.

“Thank you for being with me now,” I said when my tears once more ceased.  “I do not think anyone else could understand.”

“For what it is worth, I am sorry he’s gone.”

I nodded.

“Are we friends, once more, Tadzio?”

“We are friends.”

Jashu gazed around, checking to see that we were alone and then he kissed me upon the lips one final time.

Verona, Indiana

June 2004

Chapter Five

“Did you ever see him again?” Thad asked.

It took several moments for his words to break into my thoughts.  I had been there, in Venice, in my mind.  Now, I suddenly changed from a young boy into an old man as if all the years in between had passed in a moment.  I looked up to find Thad gazing at me.

“No.  I learned later that he died only weeks after we parted.  Cholera wiped out his entire family.  Had we not left Venice when we did, my family would probably have perished as well.  Aschenbach and Jashu died in 1912.  Here we are, nearly a hundred years later and I am still here.”

“I’m glad you’re here.  I would not have missed the chance to get acquainted with you and hear your story for anything.”

“I’ve enjoyed my life, but I am very old.  I have lost everyone that I loved.  My family is long gone.  I am alone, as Aschenbach was alone all those years ago.”

“Did you understand what he wanted from you when you were fourteen?”

“No, I don’t think I did, but mostly because I don’t think he understood either.  He was drawn to my youthful beauty.  I truly was a beautiful boy.  Many even said I was the most beautiful boy in the world.  I can say that now without conceit because the beauty and my youth are both long gone.

“I think what Aschenbach wanted most was merely to be near me.  I do not think there would ever have been more between us than conversation, a caress and perhaps a kiss, even if he had lived and my family had remained in Venice.  I think anything more would have been impossible for him.  I think his attraction to me horrified him to some extent.  I think gazing at me, watching me was about as much as he could bring himself to do.”

“How would you have liked things to proceed between you?” Thad asked.

“I wish that I could have spent more time with him.  I wish I could have talked to him.  You see, my own father died when I was quite young and to me Aschenbach was a father figure.  He was a substitute for my absent father in a way.  A part of me very much wanted him to kiss me as Jashu did.  I likely would have allowed even more, although I was quite naïve at the time.  I think all that could happen did.  Anything more wasn’t truly possible.  I was watched over too closely by the eagle-eyed governess and Aschenbach was too much a man of morals to go beyond pursuing me.  I do not think he ever meant to catch me.”

“You said you are alone now like Aschenbach was then.  I imagine that gives you a keen understanding of what he was thinking and feeling?”

“Oh yes, in later years, I became him, after a fashion.  I suppose I am a shadow of him even now,” I said, gazing at the young boy, Colin, as he sat on the edge of the pool.

“You became him?  In what fashion?”

“Well, that’s another long tale.”

“I’d love to hear it.”

“Well, it was many, many years after Venice and far, far away, but first I think I should tell you about another part of my life that fell in between, when another like Aschenbach and yet also very unlike him pursued me.   It was 1917 and after much traveling, my family had just moved to New York City.

Plaza Hotel

New York City

1917

Chapter Six

Mother looked around our suite with an appraising eye.  I didn’t know what I’d do if she didn’t find it suitable.  The Plaza was one of the finest hotels in the city and one we could ill afford.  The war had dramatically changed our fortunes, but Mother seemed in a state of denial.

This hotel reminded me of the Hotel Des Bains in its style, but there was no beach here.  Instead, the hotel was near Central Park. For the moment, I wasn’t going to worry about how to pay for it.  I was simply glad we had finally escaped Europe.  We had fled Poland when the war drew too near and had wandered around since, trying to find somewhere safe, but the war always seemed to follow us.

Unknown to Mother, I had tried to volunteer, but was refused due to my health and because I was my family’s only support.  Either would have made me ineligible, so I was doubly rejected.  My sisters knew I had done so, but if Mother found out I had no idea what she would think.  A part of me was upset at the rejection, another part was relieved.  I would likely make a poor soldier.  At least, in trying and failing to enlist, I had allowed myself a clear conscience.  No one could accuse me of not trying to do my part.

My main duty was to my mother and sisters.  I was nineteen and truly the man of the family now.  I was the one who insisted we flee from Poland and I had tried to keep us safe since.  Finally, we had arrived in America, where I did not believe the war would come.

Mother nodded to herself.  The governess, who was still with us, despite the fact that my youngest sister was now twenty-one, saw my sisters to the room they would share.  They had far greater freedom than in earlier times, but Mother sometimes still treated them like little girls.  I had escaped from the supervision of the governess even before I turned eighteen.  I liked her better now that I was not one of her charges, although she still mothered me.  That, I did not mind so much.  We truly had no need of her as a governess, but she had always been more than that.  She had been with Mother so long she was considered a part of the family.

I entered my own room and opened my trunk.  I was still as much a peacock as in my younger days.  We could no longer afford to have new clothing made for us, but I had more than ample clothing to see me through the next months or perhaps even years.  My sisters understood there would be no new things until our fortunes changed.  Mother was in denial of our financial losses, but so far, we had kept her from spending too much.  We were not broke, but we had lost much and could not afford our old lifestyle.

I no longer wore sailor suits.  Those and my wonderful jacket with all the buttons were long gone.  Now, I dressed more like other young men, wearing suits mainly.  Mine were not in the best condition, but still looked presentable.  I had skimped on my own needs for many months now to see to those of my family.  I did not mind so much, but I missed the old days.

After packing, I returned to the main room, where Mother pursued a menu.

“I will go out and purchase us food,” I said.

“We can eat in the dining room.”

“No, Mother.  We must economize, at least until I find a job.”

“Tadzio, a job?  Again?  What is this obsession you have with laboring like a commoner?”

“I love you,” I said and kissed her forehead.  “I will not be gone long.”

I departed before she could object.  I needed to find work and soon.  Most of the young men were off fighting the war, so I had a chance at finding employment.  The problem was finding something that paid enough to take care of my family.  I hoped I did not have to do again what I had a few times in my past.  If Mother knew, she would be horrified, but she would never know and I would do what I must to take care of her, my sisters and even the governess, who well understood our financial state and did what she could to control expenses.  Who would have thought she and I would become allies?

Central Park, just across 59th Street called to me, but I had other business.  I began walking to get away from the fashionable environs of the Plaza to seek out a grocery where I could purchase supplies at a more affordable cost.  Shopping was one of the many things I had learned to do in the last few years.

I walked several blocks before I found likely prospects.  I entered a grocer’s and there was able to purchase bread, apples, cheese and even enough cured ham for us all at less than the cost of a meal for one at the Plaza.

I noticed a man gazing at me as I made my selections.  Something about him put me in mind of poor Aschenbach, who had died in Venice when I was but a boy.  He had the same intent gaze and admiration in his eyes.

I was not unaccustomed to being admired.  I was no longer a beautiful boy, but I fancied myself a rather handsome young man.  Conceited, I know, but also realistic.  I still wore my hair long, which was unusual at my age, but even if I had wanted to cut it, Mother would have been beside herself.

I paid for my purchases and departed, but I was pursued by my admirer.  He followed me right out of the shop and down the street.

“Excuse me.  Excuse me, young man.”

I turned.  This man was not so much like Aschenbach.  He was far less shy.  As far as I could recall, Aschenbach had never spoken a single word to me.

“I realize this is irregular, but you are precisely what I seek.”

Well, this didn’t take long.  Perhaps it’s for the best.

“I am an artist and you are the model I have sought for too long.”

“An artist?” I asked, my interest piqued.  Before our troubles, I had taken an interest in art and dabbled in it.  I had hoped to study someday in Paris, but then the war came and that, as they say, was that.

“Yes, portraits mainly, but I do landscapes and cityscapes and period pieces.  I could use you for any number of projects if you are interested.  There is a gallery just up the street with some of my work.  Perhaps you would care to take a look and then decide?”

“Certainly, I have an interest in art.”

“Have you posed before?”

“Never.  I draw and paint upon occasion, at least I did.  I have moved my family around so much since the war began that I have had no time.”

“Your family?  You are married?”

“No.  I take care of my mother and sisters.  We only now managed to escape from Europe.”

“Horrible business that.  So many young men have left for the war that finding models is harder than ever.”

“I volunteered, but was refused.  It is likely for the best.  I am no fighter and would likely have been more a danger to my comrades than the Germans.”

“I am too old and I must admit I am not sorry.  Battles are terrible things for all concerned.  I do not at all mind missing out.”

We soon arrived at the gallery.  I would have missed it if he had not shown it to me because it was in the opposite direction of the way I had come.

“Finnian!” an older lady with oversized glasses and far too much jewelry and makeup said when we entered.

“Eldora, lovely to see you as always.”

“Who is this?”

“A model if I can persuade him.  I have brought him to see my work, unless you have sold it all.”

“I sold two so only one remains.”

“That will have to do.  This is… I’m sorry, but I was so excited about finding you, I did not ask your name.”

“Tadzio Moore.”

“What a wonderful name and what a face!” Eldora said grasping my chin and turning it gently this way and that.  “You are a stunning boy.  You simply must model for Finnian.  You could do worse than to have your likeness painted by Finnian Ashcroft.”

“Finnian Ashcroft?” I said, turning to look at him in surprise.  “I viewed one of your paintings in The Louvre and have seen them in other museums.  Your work is amazing.  If I could paint half as good as you, I would consider myself one of the best painters in the world.”

“I like you even more than I did!” Finnian said.

“Don’t let him fool you, his ego is only a tenth the size he pretends,” Eldora said.

“Shh, my oversized ego helps sell paintings.  I must keep my modesty well hidden.”

I smiled.  I liked this man.  I couldn’t believe I was actually talking to him.  He was twice my age and then some, but he was handsome.

“You have seen some of my work and now you shall see another,” Finnian said, guiding me over to a gorgeous landscape with the amazing detail I’d noticed in his other pieces.

“One of the things I love best about your paintings is that one can gaze at it from a distance and enjoy it, then draw in closer and closer and find more and more to appreciate.  Oh, I love the little dogs,” I said drawing in very close indeed.

“Thank you.  The type of composition I have in mind for you is an ancient Greek setting, with your form and face dominating the foreground and a city living and breathing behind you.”

“I will admit something to you.  I would pose for you for free, but I am badly in need of funds.  My mother does not understand that she is no longer wealthy.  We are currently residing in The Plaza, but will not be able to afford to do so for long.”

“I’m sure we can reach an agreement that will benefit us both,” Finnian said, looking me over.

I had seen such gazes before—Aschenbach, Jashu and others since.  Finnian was not only appraising me with his artist’s eye.  I was not put off.  I would do anything to support my family and to pose for this giant among artists.

“I’m sure we can,” I said, giving him the smile that meant his message was received and that I was willing.  I had danced this dance before.  Without it, my family and I would likely still be stuck in Europe.

I needed to return to Mother and my sisters, but Finnian gave me his card and asked me to come to his studio in the morning.  I departed, ecstatic over the thought that such a great artist would paint my likeness and relieved that I could support my mother and sisters for a while longer.

***

Wearing the chiton felt strange, but I must admit I felt handsome in it.  The chiton was a sort of long shirt that was belted so as to provide a sort of skirt that in my case descended only half-way to my knees.  The belt was woven gold and I wore a gold circlet in my hair, which made me feel like a prince, except I don’t think the ancient Greeks had princes.  No matter.

I had never posed before, but took to it naturally.  Finnian said I had a talent for recapturing a pose after breaking for it.  That allowed me more frequent breaks than otherwise.

Finnian taught me about painting as I posed and he worked, although one of the things he said was that the best way to learn was to do.  Still, I listened with rapt attention to his lessons and that made the time fly by.

Best of all was the cash, which I sorely needed.  If I was on my own, I could have found myself a nice apartment and lived well, but I had five females to care for.  I do not mean that I minded.  As the only male it was my duty.

Finnian could have found another model for much less.  Indeed, he could have paid me a good deal less, but he told me he always paid his models well.  They made his art possible and his canvases sold for no little price.

“Join me in some wine,” Finnian said when we finished our first session and I had changed back into my modern attire.

“Thank you,” I said and joined him at a small table on one side of the studio.

Other than brief glances when I arrived and during short breaks, this was the first chance I’d had to look around.  I had been here for hours, but when posing, my view was limited to a very small portion of the room, an area where shelves were filled with canvases, brushes, paints and art supplies of all sorts.  Now, I could take in the room.

There were several works on easels in various states of completion.  There were marble busts of great artists and many others.  There were draperies in various colors stored on a bench, many chairs, loveseats and benches in different styles and a great collection of the various props Finnian used, or might use, in his projects.  The scent of oil paint and varnish and paint thinner filled the air and light streamed in the large windows.

“This is a Chateau Picard 1902 Sweet Rose.  It has the taste of strawberries.”

I tried it.

“Oh, I like this.”

“Luckily, I bought an entire case before the war started.  Who knows what the damned Germans are doing to the winery or the vines?”

“Let us hope that they appreciate wine,” I said.

“Here is to that.  Tell me how you have come to the city.  You sketched in the details before, but I would love to know more.”

I began to tell Finnian my story while we drank.  I suspected he might be trying to get me drunk so he could take advantage, but well before that was a danger, he switched us over to hot tea.  I knew he fancied me and I more than half expected to discover that other services were expected of me beyond posing.  With the rate he paid me, it would not have been unreasonable of him, but he had made not a single move when I departed nearly two hours after our session had ended.  In that time, Finnian mostly listened to my story, but told me somewhat of himself.  I found him fascinating.

I walked home to The Plaza.  It was close enough I gave no thought to a cab, not that I would have in any case. I was careful not to waste a cent.  Mother wasted enough.  Well, that is not fair.  She did not waste money.  She simply couldn’t understand that we no longer had what we did.  She had grown up in privilege, then married my father, who was quite wealthy.  She knew little of the harsher realities of life, except what we had seen in Europe.  I was proud that she had risen to the occasion then.   She, the governess and my sisters had all acted as nurses the short time we were in France.  I would deny my mother nothing I could provide.  The same was true of my sisters and the once despised governess, but unlike Mother, they understood our financial situation.

I arrived at the suite to find a row in progress.  My sisters rushed to me the moment they spotted me.

“Tadzio, explain to Mother that we are not children and are capable of contributing to our upkeep.”

“It is true, Mother.   They are all older than me.”

“You are a boy and as much as I hate to admit it, a man.  It is different with men.  Do you know what your sisters want to do?  They want to seek employment!  A Moore!  Working!  It is just not done!”

“Mother, I have worked to support you and Father worked.”

“You are men, they are girls.”

“Women, Mother,” my eldest sister said.

“I think it would do them all good to get out into the world.  Jobs sound like a wonderful idea.”

“Oh, Tadzio!  Not you too?”

“The world has changed, Mother.  The old ways are no more.  If not for the war, my sisters would already be married.  How are they supposed to meet anyone couped up in here?”

“I’m sure there will be dances and other social occasions.”

“Mother, most of the young men are gone to war.  Getting out they will at least have a chance at meeting someone and, even if they do not, they need to live their lives.  You cannot protect them forever.  You have always protected them too much.  You must let them go, Mother.”

“Please Mother, it isn’t fair that Tadzio must provide for us all.  He is not our father.  He’s our little brother and yet how long has he taken care of us?  He took on a man’s task when he was still a child.  We want to help.  We want to do our part.  We want to live life.”

Mother looked to the governess, who nodded encouragingly.

Mother burst into tears, but nodded.  My sisters gathered around her and hugged her.  Soon, they descended upon me and I could not help but smile.

My sisters talked excitedly among themselves while Mother tearfully retired to her room.  The governess gave me a reassuring smile as she followed.  I knew she would take care of her.

I walked on to my own room.  At last, my poor sisters had freedom.  Mother had loosened up a bit over the years, but she seemed to always want to keep them as little girls.  It’s a wonder they did not hate me for the freedom I enjoyed even as a fairly young boy.  I felt confined in the years of my youth, so I could not imagine what it was like for my sisters.

I grinned at the memories of Mother trying to keep me a little boy as well.  If she had her way, I’d still be wearing sailor suits, but I had put my foot down about that and many other things.  She had responded with respect because I was a boy, but didn’t seem to be able to give my sisters the same respect, until now.

I closed the door, took off my shoes, jacket, and tie and relaxed.  Modeling was not difficult, but it did make my feet tired.  I was sure I would grow accustomed to it.

If my sisters could find some type of employment it would certainly help, but no matter what, I saw it as my duty to take care of the family Father had left me.  I often wondered if he would be proud of me.  I knew he would not be proud of some of the things I had done and yet perhaps he would be.  He would understand that a man had to do what he must to take care of those who needed him.

In the coming days, I settled into my new life in New York City, called simply The City by most here.  On most days, I walked to Finnian’s studio where I posed or learned about art.  Finnian was enthusiastic about teaching me what he knew and I was an eager pupil.  I had not been able to study in Paris as I wished, but here I had one of the most famous artists in the world all to myself.

One by one, my sisters found employment.  Together, they did not earn what I did alone, but their contribution was welcome.  Even better was their obvious pride in bringing home groceries they had purchased with their own money and in helping to pay our hotel bill.  I well-remembered how I felt the first time I earned my own money.  It wasn’t much, but it was an event in my life I would never forget.

We dined in the hotel at times, enough to keep Mother happy, but more often we made a party out of preparing what we could in our suite.  My sisters began to drag our mother out to try other restaurants they had discovered, inexpensive establishments with excellent food.  What’s more, Mother began to like it.  Both she and they were finally living.

The one-time despised governess aided my sisters in all this and was always there to support me when I tried to talk Mother into joining the modern world.  She had, at last, become a friend.

I often went out alone in the evenings, entertaining myself at as little cost as possible.  I especially liked Central Park and it was here I began to meet other men, both my age and older and even a few younger.  During one of my strolls, I wandered into what would in later days be called a cruising area.

I did not realize what I had walked into at first, but it took me no time to understand the gazes I received and on my very first time there I went home with Stefan, a handsome and fit boy of near my age who reminded me greatly of Jashu.  He was quite muscular, but walked with a limp, which is no doubt what kept him out of the service.  He did not let it slow him down as we walked toward his apartment, a very few blocks from the park.

When we arrived, I discovered that New Yorkers were more aggressive than Europeans.  The moment the door was closed, Stefan grabbed me and stuck his tongue in my mouth.  He then proceeded to undress me.  I was not sure I had a choice in the matter and I found his forcefulness arousing.

Finding me pliant, perhaps even subservient, Stefan did as he pleased and explored my body thoroughly.  I stopped him only when he drew my penis into his mouth because it had been too long for me and I knew I would immediately lose control.

He did not mind because I sank to my knees, looked up at him, and pulled him into my mouth.  I had ceased to be a virgin the year after I met Aschenbach and Jashu.  At times, I have been forced to earn my way by selling myself.  I was no longer an innocent and knew exactly what I wanted.  In this moment, I wanted to make Stefan moan.

After a very few minutes, Stefan guided me onto the bed and turned me onto my stomach.  I knew what was coming and I wanted it.  I hissed when he entered me because it had been so long since my last time, but soon I grew accustomed to him inside me.

It was a good thing I was ready because Stefan went at it as if he was starved for sex.  Soon, I whimpered, moaned and groaned from the feelings he created inside me.  Before I even had a chance to warn Stefan what was about to happen, I moaned loudly and lost control.  I think it turned him on because in the next moment he buried himself in me and I felt him throb repeatedly.

As soon as we finished, Stefan got up and dressed.  I did the same and Stefan guided me to the door.  He gave me a lingering kiss and then I was in the hall.  We’d had sex, so now he was finished with me.  I did not mind.  I preferred it that way.  I certainly could not take any boys home or have a lasting relationship.  Those things would have to wait, for years perhaps, but I was so relieved to have my family in a safe place that I did not mind in the least.

Chapter Seven

My first trip to that area of the park was by no means my last.  I became a regular.  I may, perhaps, have developed a reputation there, but I did not care.  I had managed only a few encounters previously and most of those were undesirable.  Now that I had the chance to pick and choose from a number of willing men, I intended to take advantage.  The cholera in Venice and the war in Europe had taught me only too well that life could be short and that nothing, including beauty and youth, lasted forever.

While I believed an actual relationship would have to wait years, I was mistaken.  As I had sensed, Finnian was interested in me as more than a model.  He did not approach the subject directly, but instead began to give me little gifts, mostly items I could take to my mother, sisters and the governess—roses, perfume, small items of jewelry and a variety of edible sweets.  I presented them as gifts from Finnian, saying that I had told him about my treasured family.  In truth, they were given to me so that I could take pleasure in passing them on.  Finnian also gave me many gifts, wine, small pieces of jewelry, books on art and artists and more.  He asked nothing in return.

At first, I thought it was all leading up to seduction.  There would come a time when I would have to pay for all by sinking to my knees or bending over.  Finnian had done so very much for me and shown me such kindness I was willing, but in time, I came to understand he had feelings for me beyond lust.

Finnian was considerably older than me, forty-nine to my nineteen and yet I found him attractive.  Part of that was no doubt my immense admiration for his art, but he was an attractive man.

Finnian often took me out to eat after modeling sessions and he always paid for everything.  He would have it no other way.  I felt very much as if I was being courted and that was exactly the way of it.

It was after a great many evenings out that Finnian first nervously approached the subject.  Instead of dropping me off at The Plaza as usual, he asked me back to his place.

At this point, I still suspected he wanted only a physical relationship and had already decided I would grant his request, but that is not what he wanted, or rather all he wanted.

Finnian lived in a gorgeous townhouse within easy walking distance of his studio.  What I glimpsed of his art collection as he led me to his study was impressive.  Once there, he paced and began to speak several times without managing to get any words out.

I waited patiently with a pleasant smile and at last he was able to speak his mind.

“Tadzio, I adore you.  There, I have said it.  I’m sure you think me a foolish and perhaps horrible old man for saying so, but I do.  Not a moment goes by when I do not think about you.  I love you, Tadzio.

“Please understand that I expect nothing from you and that nothing will change, but also understand that I will take care of you and your family for the sake of my love for you.  Please, just do not leave me.  Do not cease to model for me because now that I have met you, I am not sure I can paint without you.”

I remained silent while he said his piece.  When his words ceased, he gazed at me imploringly and fearfully.  The poor man feared I would walk away from him now and I realized just how much courage it had taken for him to speak the words.  Here was Aschenbach again, after a fashion, but Finnian was far braver.

I slowly stood, walked to him and kissed him lightly on the lips.  Then, I hugged him.

When I stepped back, he still looked at me with great apprehension as if he feared that was my goodbye, but I smiled at him.

“I care for you, Finnian, and I admire you.  I do not love you, yet, but I have feelings for you that deepen with every day that passes.  I am glad you shared your feelings with me.  You have quickly become my dearest friend, and more.”

Finnian practically danced around the room.  His ecstasy was so apparent, I could not help but laugh, but he did not mind.  Instead, he announced that we must celebrate and he departed for a bottle of wine.

I knew I was physically desirable and had, upon occasion, inspired devotion.  Jashu had worshiped me in his way.  I was younger and slighter than him and yet he doted on me.  We had experienced a rough patch, yes, but had parted as friends.  Here, I was seeing such devotion again and even more so, love.  Did Jashu love me?  Did Aschenbach?  Perhaps, but Finnian most certainly did.  His attentions and gifts had flattered me, but this went beyond anything I had experienced before.

“Here we are.  I have saved this for a special occasion,” Finnian said when he reentered the study.

He poured us both glasses and we drank.  He ran his hand over my hair as Aschenbach had once done, but Finnian dared to kiss me, which is something Aschenbach was never brave enough to do.  I kissed Finnian back, long and hard.  I had been with older men before, but never before with one I desired.

I thought perhaps Finnian might lead me to his bedroom, but instead he took my hands in his and beamed at me.

“You have made me happy, so happy.”

“I like making you happy.  You have done so much for me.”

“Shh.  Nothing.  It is nothing.  You are everything to me, but it is late.  I must send you home.  Until tomorrow?”

I nodded.

Unknown to me, Finnian had a cab waiting for me, even though I could have easily walked.  I slipped inside as he stood just inside his door gazing at me.

The events of the evening made my head spin.  I had been willing to give myself to Finnian in gratitude, but I realized on the ride home that I would have been devasted if that was all he wanted from me.  His interest in me went far beyond lust.  I had not figured that out before tonight, but it was exactly what I wanted from him.  How odd that we sometimes did not understand our own heart.

I returned to my room in the suite I shared with the females.  I wondered if this is how things might have been with Aschenbach if he had been braver, but then likely not.  I was nineteen now and only fourteen then.  I was rarely allowed out of sight of my mother and governess in Venice.  Nothing much could have happened, certainly nothing like this.  Still, I wish I had at least talked to Aschenbach more.  I had missed my chance to speak with one of my favorite authors, but then life was filled with missed chances.

There was no need to think about the past.  It was gone.  Even so, it made each of us what we were.  Would I be as prepared for a relationship with Finnian now without my regrets for the missed opportunities with Aschenbach?

I was happier now than I had been in a long time.  Part of that was the lack of uncertainty.  There were times in Europe when I couldn’t even be sure we would have enough to eat the next day, or that the Germans wouldn’t suddenly appear and kill us all, or worse.  Mostly, my happiness was due to Finnian.  He was kind to me.  He could easily have taken advantage of my situation, as others had, but instead he treated me almost as Jashu had once.

I wished I could tell someone, but such things had to be kept secret.  I truly did not think my mother could understand, but perhaps she was capable of more than I believed.  It did not matter.  What was between Finnian and I would stay between us.

Was this a relationship that would last?  There was no way to tell, but I had learned to snatch whatever happiness came my way and be thankful for it.

***

I kissed Finnian in greeting when I arrived at his studio the next morning.  I was to do so every time I arrived, but he did not know it then.  He beamed when I did so and clasped my hands.

“You make me so happy,” he said.

“You make me happy.”  I grinned at him.

“I feared you would not return.”

“There was no chance of that.  Last night, I realized how I felt about you.  It’s odd how such feelings can hide so well, but I care for you deeply.”

I kissed him again.

We soon got down to work.  Today was my first day of posing nude.  This had been planned well before our talk and Finnian had shown me the sketches of what he had in mind.  I was posing as Perseus, holding a short sword and the severed head of the medusa.

Medusa’s head was made from papier mache and was hollow so as to be as light as possible.  Even so, holding the pose for long periods of time would have been difficult, but Finnian had measured me for a support upon which I could rest my arm most of the time.  The sword, also very light, was much easier to hold.

Some would have been uneasy posing nude, but I had become comfortable with my body.  Besides, I well-remembered the swimsuits I wore as a boy that left little to the imagination.  It’s amazing how much of the body could be covered and yet every curve, contour and bulge revealed.  I actually felt less naked nude than I had wearing my swimsuit back then.  Not that I minded.  I had always been a peacock and liked when others gazed at me.

“Is it warm enough for you?” Finnian asked.

“Oh yes, I’m quite comfortable.”

“Please tell me at any time you are not.  Can you turn your right hip ever so slightly toward me?  Yes, that’s it.  Have you practiced sketching hands as I asked you?”

“I’ve had no time yet, but I will.  I have five live-in models to choose from.”

“See that you do.  Hands can be the most difficult part of the body to capture.  Even many great artists have difficulty with them.  Some must go so far as to keep them out of frame or conceal them.  If you can paint them properly, it will add much to your work.”

“Do you need a lot of practice?”

“For hands, no.  They have always come to me easily, but to this day I find feet a nightmare.  I’m very lucky in that I seldom have to portray them.  Every artist has his own strengths and weaknesses, as well as his own style.”

We often discussed art like this.  At other times, Finnian told me about other artists he had met.  He lived in a world I much wished to enter.  Perhaps, with his guidance, I could.  Even if it turned out that I was not good enough, art was something I wished to pursue.  If it was only as a hobby, so be it.  If I could become a true professional artist, so much the better.

Merely standing in Finnian’s studio was a delight.  To me, the scent of oil paint, canvas and varnish was better than that of roses.  The scents of the studio would always bring memories, some sad, most happy, to my mind even late in life.  I lived for art.

***

“My mother would like to meet you,” I said right after I’d kissed Finnian in greeting yet again.

“I would very much like to meet all your family.  I know, I’ll take you all out to supper.  How about at The Plaza?  That will make it easy for your mother.”

“You need not do that.”

“I would so enjoy it.  You’ve told me much about your family, I feel like I know them, even the once dreaded governess.”

I laughed.

The days had slipped past quickly and I found my feelings for Finnian growing as they did so.  I think I talked about Finnian around my mother too much, but she believed it was only because of his talent and fame and my love for art.  I had shown her some of my drawings and even presented her with a small painting of her I did from a photograph.  The painting had problems, but Mother adored it.

The occasion was arranged for the following evening.  I returned early from posing that day so I could properly dress.  Dinner in The Plaza was a lavish affair and, even in wartime, everyone dressed to the nines.

For the evening, I was wearing a white suit with a black tie.  Mother believed it was new, but it was, in fact, second-hand.  It was nearly impossible to tell.  I had less need to economize now, but I had learned well that everything can change in a moment.  I saved what I could for the uncertainties of the future.

Finnian was waiting in the dining room when we arrived.  He rose from his seat and kissed my mother’s hand.

“I am so glad to finally meet you.  Your son has become dear to me.  He has such talent as both a model and artist.”

Mother still had some trouble with English, as did the governess, but my sisters and I experienced little difficulty and easily translated into Polish.

I could immediately tell Mother liked him.  He was polite and well dressed, which were always musts for her.  He was also famous and soon she learned he was witty and entertaining, too.  I smiled as I watched them together.

The eyes of my sisters traveled from Finnian to me and back again. I wondered if they suspected there was more than friendship between us.  If so, they likely saw him as a father figure for me.  I do not think they could grasp the idea of two men together, but they were perceptive.  I wondered what they would think if they knew the truth.  It sometimes pained me that I could not be completely myself with those I loved, but I could with Finnian.  I had no need to hide anything from him and so I did not.

Finnian charmed the females, just as he had me.  He complimented and engaged each in conversation.  In fact, I do not know when he had time to eat.

I had time to eat and the food was delicious, as it always was at The Plaza.    I’d ordered salmon with herbed mashed potatoes.  With it came a large salad and asparagus, all together it was too much to eat.

The food almost didn’t matter because our surroundings were so gorgeously beautiful.  The room reminded me of the Hotel Des Bains in Venice in many ways with its enormous tropical, or tropical-looking at least, trees and plants.  There were flowers in abundance and, of course, linen tablecloths and napkins.  I must admit I was fond of the luxury, especially after the times in recent years when I was happy to have stale bread.

Finnian did not forget me.  His eyes often turned to me and when they did, he gave me one of his wonderful smiles.  I was aware, even without his expressing it, of his love for me.  I have no doubt it was my features that originally attracted him.  He viewed me as the model he’d long sought and an ornament, but it was the real me, the one he’d come to know during our time together, that he loved.

At first, Finnian was no more than a way for me to support my family, but then I realized what I could learn from him and experienced his kindness.  He was as generous with his time and wisdom as he was his money and he was as wondrous as his art.  Finnian was a true treasure and I was proud to be his.  If only I could let everyone know, but that was not to be.

If my mother had any misgivings about me posing for Finnian, I was quite sure she did not now.  Of course, she did not know that I sometimes posed nude.  I wondered if she guessed.  Mother was acquainted with the world of art, so she was certainly aware that nudity was a part of that world.

After lunch, Finnian took us for a carriage ride in the park and we stopped at the Metropolitan Museum of Art where he acted as our expert guide.  His presence created a stir.  He was kind to his admirers, but we were his focus, especially Mother.

Finnian began to bypass one of his own works, but I did not allow it.  I pointed it out because I wanted my family to see one of his pieces up close, instead of merely a photo in a book.  While my own knowledge of art was nothing compared to Finnian’s I was able to point out some of the highlights of the piece, in this case a detailed pastoral setting of ancient Greece.  My mother and sisters gushed their appreciation.  My sisters were actually quite interested, which surprised Mother, but not me.

Finnian saw us back to the hotel, where he thanked my mother for her time and told her what a wonderful son she had in me.  He did not fail to compliment my sisters, bringing both a blush and a smile to their faces.

Mother went on and on about Finnian all the way to our room.  I think it had been a long time since a handsome older gentleman had treated her like a lady to such a degree.  I was as pleased by her happiness as I was by her approval of Finnian.

Happiness had entered my life, and that scared me.  I was happy in Venice with Jashu and Aschenbach, and then had come disaster.  Now, I was happy in New York City with Finnian.  I feared someone or something would take it all away, as cholera had taken away Jashu, Aschenbach and my summer in Venice.  Little did I know how very soon my fear was to be realized.

Chapter Eight

I had constant work as a model for Finnian.  No sooner did he complete one painting, than he began another.  Sometimes, he went back and forth between two or even three.  Finnian had an amazing ability to work quickly.  Even at my height as an artist in later years, I could never match the speed with which he painted so brilliantly.

Modeling for Finnian was never boring.  I adored his company and he never stopped teaching me about art while he worked.  I learned more in my time with him than I did the rest of my long life.  He was truly amazing.

I loved Finnian and fell in love with him.  At first, he could only just barely bring himself to kiss me, even though he knew I was willing, but he came to understand the depths of my feeling for him and we became lovers.

Finnian taught me as much about making love as he did about art.  I was neither naïve nor innocent by this point and felt there was little I had not already done, but Finnian instructed me in technique by his example.  I spent many hours with him daily and would have spent the nights with him too if not for my family.

It was during this time that an upscale gallery presented an exhibition of Finnian’s work and featured within it were his eight finished portraits of me.  He invited my family to the opening which made me uneasy because two of the portraits were nude, one a rear view and another full-frontal.  I did not know what my sisters would make of nudes, let alone my mother or the governess.  They had seen nudes in museums before the war and in the Met, even male nudes, but not of a member of their family.

I was both excited and terrified as the opening night approached and then the night arrived.  I was dressed in a dark navy suit Finnian had made for me as a gift.  It was a version of the one with rows of gold buttons I had worn in Venice.  It was not exactly the same, because Finnian had it created from my description of the jacket, but if anything, it was more beautiful and it fit me perfectly, since it had been tailored specifically for me.

Guests began to arrive, including many artists I recognized by their names.  There were others who I later learned were famous or prominent, or who later became so, but their names meant nothing to me at the time.

I drew attention as I stood by Finnian’s side, especially after guests began to view what Finnian called his Tadzio paintings.  Before long I became an object of attention on my own.  Before the night was over, I received handsome offers to model for others, but I told each I only modeled for Finnian.

Before I began to be truly noticed, the moment I feared had arrived.  I spotted Mother, the governess and my sisters, all dressed in their finest through the window.  I quickly downed a flute of champaign, even though I did not like the stuff.

As soon as they entered, Finnian greeted my family as if they were royalty and my mother as if she was the queen of the world.  He led them through the gallery himself.  I followed behind my sisters, as I always had, an unofficial rear guard.

Mother, who was beginning to understand and speak more English, was astounded when she reached the first of the Tadzio canvases.  It was one in which I posed as a Greek youth wearing a chiton and a wreath of olive leaves on my brow.  Finnian beamed as she marveled at his ability to capture not only my likeness, but my personality and even my very soul.  I was embarrassed to no end when she made me stand by the portrait and hold my head in the same position I had when modeling.  It was then that people truly began to notice me and then that the Tadzio paintings quickly began to sell.  Three were gone in a minute and the rest sold before we even reached them.

The moment I dreaded had come.  My family reached the first nude, a rear view but with enough of my features visible to identify me with no mistake.  My youngest sister giggled and was shooshed by the others.  I feared my mother’s reaction, but all she said was, “Beautiful, absolutely beautiful,” in her accented English.

The first nude was nothing compared to the second.  I could feel myself begin to blush even before we reached it.  The mouths of my sisters dropped open upon viewing it.  The governess raised an eyebrow when her eyes descended below my waist.  Mother gave out a little gasp, but quickly began to compliment Finnian once more.  I was surprised, shocked even, when she beamed with pride and said, “I made that.”

I was no doubt as red as an apple.  Mother grasped my hands, looked into my eyes and said in Polish, “You should not be embarrassed, Tadzio.  You are beautiful.”  This caused me to blush even more, but also to smile.

My sisters lingered, gazing at the nude until the governess shooed them on their way.  I was not sure they would ever look at me the same way again.  So perfect was the likeness they had seen everything there was to see of me.

I was as embarrassed by my family seeing the nude likeness of me as I would have been if they’d seen me naked.  My mother and the governess both had, but that was when I was extremely young.  Everything was much smaller then.  Oddly, I soon grew at ease with others seeing the nudes.  Finnian had deemed me worthy of inspiring art and I felt proud rather than uncomfortable, even when a few at the show gazed first at the paintings, then me, as if mentally undressing me.  I suppose I was still very much a peacock.

I think my family was impressed when those attending began to show me more and more attention.  I had received attention throughout my life, but it had never been so concentrated.

My mother approached when she was about to depart and smiled at me.  She caressed my cheek.

“I am very proud to have a son who is so beautiful he has become art.”

I blushed slightly.

“Do not forget you have beautiful daughters, too.”

“I am aware, Tadzio.  They are each beautiful, so beautiful I must try to disguise them to keep them safe.”

My sisters overheard this as they stood behind her and I could tell her words touched them.  Mother had always treated me as if I was a prince.  She had dressed me to show me off, while dressing my sisters in drab clothing and having their hair arranged in severe unflattering styles.  Even now that they were older and made more of their own decisions, Mother attempted to tone down their beauty.  I had long suspected this was the reason.  Now, I knew.

My sisters giggled among themselves as they passed me.   I was quite sure I would be the topic of their conversation when they were alone, but I did not care.  The governess merely caressed my cheek for a moment and smiled at me kindly.  Who would have thought I’d come to like her?

“Sold out,” Finnian said to me well before the show ended.

“Every painting?”

“Yes, the Tadzio paintings sold first, then one by one all the rest.  I have never had a show sell out before.  All of my works sell eventually, but never before have they done so this quickly.”

Finnian beamed at me as if I was the cause of it.

“Congratulations.”

Finnian took my hands in his for a moment and smiled at me.  I had the feeling he wanted to kiss me, but such things were just not done.

***

Finnian did not look well the next time I arrived at the studio to pose and he put out a hand to stop me when I moved to kiss him.  It turned out that it was very fortunate that he did so, although I did not know how fortunate until later.

I stripped and then dressed in a toga, pinned on my left shoulder with a large fibula.  Nearly my entire torso was left bare, my arms were almost entirely bare as well my feet.  The rest of me was covered.  I took up what Finnian called the Antinous pose, head slightly down and gazing to the left.  Finnian adjusted the drapery and began.

He had worked to finish this painting in time for the exhibition, but had been unable to do so.  As quickly as he worked, even Finnian could not turn out a painting in mere days.

To all but the eye of an artist, the work would have appeared to be finished before we began our day’s session, but I had seen what needed to be done when I gazed at it before taking up my position.  Before meeting Finnian, I do not think I would have seen it.  He had taught me so much.

Our sessions were usually long, with many breaks, but not so this one.  Finnian stopped not two hours after we began.

“I am tired and need to rest a while.  I can finish without you.  Do not come tomorrow.  I intend to take the day off.”

“Are you okay, Finnian?” I asked.  I didn’t mention that he did not look well.

“I am merely tired.  I have gone for far too long at too great a pace, but when I am inspired, I cannot help myself.  There comes a time when one much rest and a time when one casts all cares away.”

I nodded.  I took off my toga and began to dress, but Finnian stopped me.

“Stand just like that, Tadzio.  I want to fix you in my mind in all your wondrous beauty.”

“You will make me conceited if you talk like that,” I said as I stood before him naked.

“No.  If you are not conceited already, and you are not, you will not be made so by my words.  You are beautiful, Tadzio.  You are my beautiful, beautiful Tadzio.  You have brought joy to an old man’s life.”

Jashu had once called me his beautiful, beautiful Tadzio.  Hearing the words now made me feel like a young boy again.

“You are not so old and you have brought joy and wisdom to my life as well.”

“Thank you.”

Finnian nodded and I dressed.  I moved to kiss him before I departed, but just as I drew near, he turned and dropped into a chair.

“Have a wonderful day, Tadzio.  Greet your family for me.”

I smiled and nodded, then turned and departed.  I did not know that I would never see him again.

I was troubled and uneasy the next day, but told myself it was only because I was so accustomed to walking to Finnian’s studio each morning.  Not doing so felt strange.

I used my day outside the studio to take my family on an outing in Central Park, where we went to the zoo, rode in a carriage and spent much time walking paths and sitting on the benches watching passersby.  Mother, my sisters and the governess all enjoyed themselves immensely, which made me happy.  If my father had lived, I would likely have been out on my own now, but he died when I was young and so I had always done what I could, not to take his place, but to fill in for him.  I hoped he would be pleased with the job I had done.

I wished I could tell my family about my relationship with Finnian.  I sometimes fancied that my sisters guessed, but that was unlikely.  They had always been quite sheltered from the realities of life, more so than me.  The war had changed that to some extent, but I wasn’t sure they could grasp the idea of two males together.  Nor could they have grasped some of the things I had to do to keep us from starving before we escaped from Europe.  Those things, I did not want them to know, ever.  It was not from shame, because I was not ashamed, but I did not want them to know what sacrifices I had made for them.

In the evening, we dined in a restaurant that, while fine, was far less expensive than The Plaza.  We were not short of funds now, thanks to Finnian, but I economized whenever possible.  Taking care with expenses now, might well mean survival later.

It was while enjoying my steak and conversing with my family that a horrendous sense of sadness came over me.  It hit me so suddenly and with such intensity, I dropped my fork and it clattered on my plate.

“Tadzio?  What is wrong?” My mother asked.  All the females gazed at me with worried expressions on their faces.

“I don’t know.  A feeling of sorrow fell upon me just now.  I don’t know why, but I feel like crying.”

Mother and the governess looked worried.  My sisters looked afraid.  I do not think my sisters had ever seen me cry.  I did not do so now, but merely saying I felt like sobbing frightened them.  I was sorry I had done so.

I took a sip of my water and worked to calm myself.  I do not think I had experienced such a horrible and utterly hopeless mood before.

“I’ll be fine now,” I said, forcing a smile.  “It’s really nothing, merely a sudden shift in emotion.  I have no reason to be sad.  We’ve had a wonderful day, have we not?”

All agreed we had.

“I think I shall order cherries jubilee for dessert,” I said, still forcing a smile.

The truth was I continued to feel like crying, but the sadness was not quite so intense now.  I reminded myself that all emotional states were temporary.  Even so, I had a hard time pretending all was well.  I feared something dreadful had happened and I couldn’t shake the feeling that it had happened to Finnian.

The next morning, as I was preparing to leave for the studio, the concierge knocked on our suite door.  He looked rather uneasy and grim, not at all his usual friendly self.

“Mr. Moore, may I come in?”

“Certainly,” I said, confused.  “There is nothing wrong, is there?  I have paid the bill up?”

“You are quite current and prompt with payment and none is due until next month.  My business is of a more personal matter.”

I gestured for him to sit.  Mother entered the room.

“A message was just received for you from Mr. Ashcroft’s solicitor.”

Fear clutched my heart as I remembered the horrible sadness that descended upon me the day before.

“I regret to inform you that Mr. Ashcroft died last evening.”

All the color drained from my face.

“Finnian is dead?”

“Yes, Mr. Moore.  I am truly sorry.  If there is anything we can do for you.”

“No.  Thank you.”

“I will take my leave then.  If there is any way I can help, let me know.”

I kept myself together until he departed and then I began to cry, not merely cry, but sob as if I would never stop.  Mother came and hugged me to her and I clung to her as I had not since I was a young boy.  I had loved Finnian deeply and dearly.  I had seen him only the day before yesterday.  How could he be dead?

It took me a while to compose myself.  When I did, I noticed that the governess and my sisters had entered the room and were looking on with worried expressions.

“Tadzio’s friend, Finnian, has died,” Mother explained.

I received the condolences of my family and even hugs and kisses, but nothing could make me feel better.

“If you don’t mind, I wish to take a walk, after I wash my face,” I said standing.

“Of course, Tadzio.  Anything,” Mother said.  She hugged me again and I managed a weak smile for her.

I went to my room, washed away the evidence of my tears and gazed at myself in the mirror.  My eyes were red, but otherwise there was no evidence of my emotional state.

I departed and returned to the park where we had experienced such a wonderful day yesterday.  Today, grief overwhelmed me.

Finnian had not looked well when last I saw him.  We had cut our session short and then he had cancelled the next.  He had never done that before, but still I never guessed that something was seriously wrong with him.  Did he even know?

Finnian was not a young man, but he was not frail.  What had taken him from me?  A heart attack?  A stroke?  There were so very many ways to die.  I suppose it did not matter.   He was gone.  That horrible reality was all the mattered.

Numbness descended upon me.  I felt nothing.  I did not know whether that was better or worse than grief.  I had pictured Finnian and I living out our lives together.  I knew he would likely die before me, but I had thought that far in the future.  Something that would happen later, not now.

If it hadn’t been for my family, I would have lived with him.  He was so talented, intelligent and fascinating.  He was one of the greatest artists who had ever lived and he’d taught me so much, given me so much.  I was not sure how or if I could live without him.

Not living was not an option.  I could not toss myself from a bridge or building in despair.  I did not have that avenue of escape.  I could not and would not abandon my family.  They needed me and now more than ever.  I was thankful I had put a lot of money away.  It would see us through until I could find employment.

My fortunes had changed, yet again.  I had seemed to be set for many years, if not for life, but everything was uncertain once more.  It was not that which tore at me.  It was the loss of Finnian.  Never again would I love anyone as I had, and still, loved him.

***

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Moore.  Please have a seat.”

I sat in front of the desk of Finnian’s solicitor, wondering why I was here.

“Can you tell me how Finnian died?” I asked.  “He was unwell when I last saw him, but seemed in no danger.  He complained of being tired and cancelled our next session.  I was concerned about him, but never expected him to die.  If I had any idea, I would have stayed with him.”

“Influenza, it’s becoming epidemic now.  Finnian was far sicker than he let on.  He knew he likely wouldn’t survive.  He had himself transported home by ambulance immediately after you departed.  Part of the reason I asked you here is that Finnian wished me to ask for your forgiveness for him.    His great fear was that he might pass influenza on to you and your family.”

Influenza.  Another plague.  I felt almost as if the cholera had followed me here to take Finnian, as it had taken Aschenbach and Jashu.

“That’s why he kept his distance from me during our last session.”

“Yes, and it was a short session because his strength was quickly failing.  He hoped to finish his last portrait of you before he grew too weak.  He sent you away because he did not want to endanger you and he wanted you to remember him as he was in life, not as a man dying in his bed.”

I couldn’t help it.  I shed a tear.

“He did not survive long after he was taken home.  His doctor barely had time to arrive before Finnian died.  He did not suffer long.”

“I’m glad he didn’t suffer.  He was a wonderful, kind and loving man.”

“Yes, he was.  Now, as to the other reason I asked you to come today.  I am also the executor of Finnian’s estate.  He left you everything.”

“Everything?  I don’t understand.”

“He wanted to make sure that you and your family were safe and secure.  He considered all of you his family.  He told me of your kindness to him.”

“It was he who showed us kindness,” I said.

“I am sure that is true as well, but you were family to him.  He loved you all.  He left you his home, his studio, his belongings, his artwork, everything.”

I was speechless for several long moments.

“I… I was not expecting this.  Finnian paid me very well for modeling for him.  He was so kind to my family and to me.  He taught me so much about art.  He gave me so much already…”

“Regardless, it is yours.  You are a very, very wealthy man now, Tadzio Moore.”

I sighed.  “I guess I should be pleased, but truthfully, I would give all that, and more, if I could have him back.  I do not wish to inherit from him because I do not want him to be dead.”

“Then Finnian was most certainly wise in leaving his fortune to you.”

“It will be a relief not to have to worry about funds, but I haven’t had to worry about that since I began modeling for Finnian.”

“You are set for life, Mr. Moore.  It was Finnian’s wish that you be able to pursue your love of art and become the best artist you can possibly be.”

“That I shall most certainly do.  I loved him, you know, deeply.”

“I know and he told me of his love for you.”

I stepped out onto the street a much richer man than I’d walked in, but I cannot say that I was happy.  I had meant what I said.  I would gladly give Finnian’s fortune, and more besides, if I could have him back with me, but that is not the way life works.

As I walked toward The Plaza, I wondered if I would ever find anyone to love me who would be a part of my life for more than a few months.  I did not know it then, but it would take me many, many years to find that love.

Verona, Indiana

June 2004

Chapter Nine

“I can’t imagine how difficult that was for you, especially since you were still so young,” Thad said.

I looked up.  I had been lost in the past again.

“Yes.  Right after Finnian’s death, I began to fear losing everyone I loved and everyone who dared to love me.  That has come to pass now, but doesn’t mean so much since I’m over a century old.  At nineteen, it was quite another matter.  I kept anyone new who entered my life at a distance for some time.  I was unchanged toward the females in my life.  I already loved them and could not change that.  Others I refused to let close.  I went from one causal relationship to another, hookups as they are called now, lots of them until I realized that what I was seeking and the very thing I refused to allow, a connection.  Even when I realized my mistake it was a long time before I found anyone.”

“Did you move into Finnian’s house?”

“Oh yes.  I had become wealthy, but still had no desire to waste money.  Finnian’s home was quite grand enough to suit my mother.  She lived out the remainder of her life there.  My sisters remained until they married one by one.  Finnian made it possible for me to take care of them forever.”

“You inspired devotion in three individuals.  That’s rather amazing,” Thad said.

“Oh, I think it was mostly the love of beauty we all possess.  I can admit to being beautiful then without appearing immodest, although I don’t much care what anyone thinks these days.”

“I think your beauty attracted them, but it took something more to keep them devoted, especially Finnian, who you were with the longest.”

“Perhaps with Finnian, but Aschenbach didn’t really know me.  For him, I was an old man’s dream, although he was not actually so old.  I think with Jashu it was mostly lust.  It’s a powerful force at that age.  I am sure Jashu cared for me, too, otherwise he would have been far more aggressive.  He could have lured me somewhere we were alone and forced me to do anything he wanted.  I would never have told anyone because I would have been too ashamed.  He no doubt knew that too and while he made attempts to seduce me, and succeeded to a small degree, he never attempted to take what he wanted by force.”

“Did you remain in New York City long?” Thad asked.

“A few years, but it wasn’t long before I began to wander.  I didn’t have to worry about my family anymore.  Finnian’s bequest gave me the freedom I had always desired.

“Eventually, after many years, I traded places with Aschenbach and Finnian, so to speak.  I became the older man drawn by the beauty of a young boy.”

“Will you tell me about that?” Thad asked.

“It was 1954 and I had recently moved to Hollywood, California…”

Hollywood, California

1954

Chapter Ten

Roosevelt Hotel

I sat in a lounge chair by the pool, gazing at the handsome young blond boy as he swam.  He was the latest in a parade of beautiful boys I had spotted during my stay at the Roosevelt.  His blond hair, blue eyes and athletic physique were a work of art.  I had come to appreciate the youthful male beauty that I myself had once possessed.

Merely gazing at him filled me with pleasure.  The line of his jaw, the shape of his pecs, the contour of his hip and the swell of his buttocks were all perfection.

I had become Aschenbach, after these many years.  I suppose I was about the age he was when he pursued me in Venice, although the boy I currently admired was older than I was back then, sixteen perhaps.

The boy noticed me watching him.  I was not surprised.  Times had changed since Aschenbach had gazed at me and there was less need for subtly.  Oh, one couldn’t be too open about such things, but the Edwardian age was a thing of the past and so were most of its ideas and morals.

The boy gave me the same smile I had once given Aschenbach, so slight that I couldn’t be sure it was really there.  I continued to gaze at him as he swam, pulled himself out of the pool, and dived back in.  Was he performing for me or was he merely doing what he wished and allowing me to see?

“Mr. Moore, telephone,” said a member of the hotel staff as he carried a phone toward me, its long cord trailing behind.

“Thank you,” I said and took the receiver.

“Yes?”

“Your offer on the house has been accepted.  Congratulations.  I can send over the paperwork in a couple of hours.”

“Excellent.  Thank you.”

I handed the receiver back.  The young man bowed his head and departed.

This was good news, good news indeed.  The house was too large for me, but had everything I wanted, including quiet spaces to write and ample space for my studio.  The light in the room I had in mind for the studio was simply perfect.  I couldn’t wait to set brush to easel, but I would have to wait.  My realtor knew I was in a hurry, but had warned me that even rushing things as much as he could, I would have to wait at least two weeks to move in and likely three.  The wait would not harm me.  The Roosevelt was a pleasant abode and the sights around the pool stimulating to say the least.

It was then that I noted the boy was gone.  Too bad.  I had enjoyed watching him, but there would be another.  There was always another.

Guests constantly checked in and out of the Roosevelt, many of them famous.  At first, I was not accustomed to spotting film and TV stars, but after less than a month in Hollywood I was quite used to such encounters.  I had walked past John Wayne in the lobby, sat near Jimmy Stewart in the dining room and spotted Rock Hudson out front, and that was only in and around the hotel.

I chose the Roosevelt because of its history, but its grandeur had faded.  The old hotel was beginning to fall on hard times, but it retained its history and the rich and famous still stayed here, just not as much in the past.  To think that the likes of Clark Gable and Shirley Temple had once walked here.  Marilyn Monroe had stayed here as well, before she was famous.

While I enjoyed seeing the famous, my head was not overly turned by them.  I had become both a famous writer and artist myself.  While I did not attract attention like a movie star, I was at times noticed.  I think I possessed just the right amount of fame, enough to be enjoyable and get me good tables in restaurants, but not enough to be a bother.

The boy had gone, so I returned to my room to await the papers.  I was somewhat sad I would be leaving the Roosevelt.  It had become my home in Hollywood, but I was even more glad to purchase a home in Beverly Hills.

The next morning, I went downstairs and had breakfast in the dining room.  My eyes searched the room for the boy I’d spotted by the pool, but he was not present.  I had my usual blueberry pancakes, bacon and hot tea.  I was free to do as I wished, but I liked keeping to a routine.  I did at times alter that routine, either temporarily or permanently, but I preferred to keep a schedule.  I followed the one I’d set for myself while staying in the Roosevelt.   After breakfast, I returned to my room and worked on my latest novel.  Then, I returned to the dining room for lunch or went out to a restaurant, and then after lunch, I took my pad and settled into a lounge chair at the side of the pool.

This day was no different.  After a morning of writing and gazing out at the window at Hollywood, I went out for lunch to the Brown Derby.  There were actually three of them, but I went to the one on Wilshire because of its iconic structure.

The Derby was a curious restaurant, actually shaped like a hat.  I was quickly shown to a booth along the curved wall.  A large oval counter filled the center of the room and along the walls were caricatures of celebrities.

When my waiter arrived, I ordered a Cobb salad, which had been invented in this very restaurant, and iced tea.  My tea had no more than arrived when I was approached by a young man holding a pad.

“May I draw you, Mr. Moore?  We would like to add your caricature to our collection.”

“How can I say no to a fellow artist?’

The young man both beamed and blushed.  He was handsome, with dark hair and eyes.

“I’m a great fan of your work, Mr. Moore.  I was able to catch an exhibit once.  I went every single day to gaze at your paintings.  One of my goals in life is to become a great enough artist myself that I can afford one of your paintings.”

I laughed.  “One of my goals as a young artist was to become successful enough to purchase a Monet.”

“I have to stop for a moment, my hand is shaking.  I’ve met several celebrities, but never one I truly admired, until now.”

“Set yourself at ease.  I’m merely an artist like yourself.  I’ve become famous, but doing so is no more than an accident.  What is your name?”

“Thom… Lucas.”

“It is very nice to meet you, Thom.  Please call me Tadzio.”

“Yes, Mr. Moore.  I mean, Tadzio.”

Thom returned to his work and soon finished, but hesitated to show it to me.  His nervousness was quite clear as he handed it to me.  I laughed when I gazed at it.

“This is wonderful!  I love what you’ve done to my hair.  I look as if I’ve just had a shock!”

“I imagined your reaction to one of my paintings, one of the unsuccessful ones.”

“I have many of those myself.”

“Can you sign it, please?  Mr. Cobb likes to have them signed.”

“Of course.  Now, will you do me a favor, Thom?”

“Anything.”

“Stand right there,” I said.

I removed his caricature from the pad, carefully set it aside and then began to sketch Thom.  I liked the angles of his face, especially his cheekbones.  I wondered if he realized his own beauty.  All boys and young men are beautiful, but they seldom realized it until that beauty was gone.  Perhaps it was for the best.  Otherwise, they might become conceited and in so doing turn their beauty into ugliness.  I finished my sketch and then signed it.

“There you are, Thom.  It’s not a caricature.  I doubt I would be any good at that form of art, but perhaps this will hold you over until you become famous.”

Thom looked at it, clasped it to his chest and looked as if he might cry.

“Thank you, Tadzio!  I will treasure this forever!”

I smiled.  His praise was over the top, but I did not embarrass him by saying so.

The chef arrived to make my salad and Thom departed after thanking me again.  I watched as the chef combined romaine lettuce, bacon, chives, tomato, avocado, eggs, water cress, Roquefort cheese and chicory to create a wonderful and rather large salad for me.

I thanked him when he finished and proceeded to enjoy my lunch, but was soon interrupted by a disturbance that began outside and then entered the Derby.  A beautiful boy with chocolate brown hair in the company of a handsome blond boy were besieged by autograph hounds.  I recognized the one with dark hair, Adam Bluestone.  I had seen him on TV many times and his companion was also on the same program, The Bert Rogers Show.

Adam was strikingly handsome.  I could see why he was pursued.  I observed him as I ate.  I admired his kindness towards those who only wanted to get close to him and obtain an autograph.

Soon, things settled down and the two boys took a booth within my line of sight.  I could gaze upon Adam as I ate.  I always did enjoy nice scenery.

I felt a bit sorry for Adam and his companion.  They were too famous to know peace.  I counted myself lucky to be a writer and artist rather than an actor.  I would never have to worry about being hounded by fans.  Those boys likely couldn’t go anywhere without being recognized, but they did possess beauty and youth, two of the most valuable assets in existence.  I had lost both long ago, but as I grew older, I grew accustomed to the loss.  I no longer possessed what I once did, but I valued what I had and that enabled me to enjoy life.

I also enjoyed my lunch.  I loved the nostalgia of old Hollywood, although I supposed someday others would look back on the 1950’s as old Hollywood.  I liked residing in the Roosevelt and eating in the Brown Derby where so many associated with the film industry had been.  I’m not talking only about actors, like the two handsome boys near me, but everyone, the writers, cameramen, set dressers, makeup artists and all the others that worked to create a great illusion that the rest of us could sit back and enjoy.  The film industry was one of the reasons I had chosen to move to Hollywood.

After I finished my lunch, I bid Thom goodbye and good luck and then nodded to Adam Bluestone and his companion as I passed their booth.  I smiled as I walked on toward the door because I heard Adam, comment, ‘Do you know who that was?’  I did not hear the rest because I stepped through the door and outside into the bright, California sunshine.

I returned to the Roosevelt, procured my own pad from my room and rode the elevator down to the ground floor.  I walked out to the pool where the clear blue water sparkled in the sunshine and palms waved in the breeze.

I settled into my usual spot and began to make a sketch of the pool itself, as well as the chairs, tables, and potted plants around it.  I worked, paused and then worked more.  When I had the scene down as I desired it, I began to populate it with swimmers and sunbathers, using those who came and went as models.  I drew the small boy who peered into the water as if it were the depths of the Pacific while holding the hand of his mother.  I added the two older ladies, their faces shaded by enormous straw hats and then he came, the beautiful boy I had spotted before.

The lines of his face and torso were perfect.  It was if he was meant to be drawn.  I added him at the edge of the pool, bent over, muscles tense to dive in.  I gazed at him, sketched, gazed at him and sketched more.  Unlike my other unwitting models, the boy began to notice me and catch on that I was drawing him.

My breath caught slightly in my throat as he pulled himself from the water, young muscles straining and then stepped purposefully toward me, water cascading down his smooth firm body.

He gazed at me knowingly.  He knew I’d been watching him and not only today.

“Are you drawing me?”

“Yes.  You’ve caught me.  Would you like to see?”

He nodded and I turned the pad around.  He peered at it closely and smiled.

“That’s quite good.  I bet you could sell your work.”

I smiled to myself.  He did not know who I was.  That was not a great surprise.  Why would a young boy know me?

“Thank you.  That is high praise.  Do you have an interest in art?”

“I can’t say that I do.  I want to be an actor.”

“You definitely have the looks for it,” I said.  I was not shy with boys I found beautiful.  Poor Aschenbach could have never been so bold.

“I have talent too, but it’s tough to get started.  I’ve seen you here before.  Do you live in the hotel or are you only visiting for a few days?”

“This is my temporary residence.  I’m staying here until I can move into my house.”

“Can you keep a secret?” the boy asked.

“Certainly.”

“I don’t live in the hotel and I’m not a guest.  I sneak in to use the pool.”

“Your secret is safe with me…”

“Caleb.”

“It is nice to meet you, Caleb.  I am Tadzio.”

“I’ve never heard that name before.”

“It’s Polish.  It’s actually a derivation of my name, but even when I was young, I went by Tadzio.”

“I like it.”

“I like your name.”

Caleb gave me a slight smile, a smile such as I long ago gave Aschenbach.

“I’m going to get back to the pool.  I never know when they might spot me.”

I nodded.  Caleb turned.  His wet swimsuit clung to his perfectly shaped buttocks.  I turned the page of my pad and began to draw Caleb from the backside.

The days slipped away.  I wrote.  I sketched.  I watched Caleb and he watched me watch him.  My interest obviously did not bother him.  He greeted me whenever he arrived and again when he departed.  He walked past me in his wet swimsuit, perhaps realizing I liked the back view as much as the front.    He swam and dove, sometimes messing about with other boys if there were any and, from time to time, acknowledged me with a slight smile.  I felt myself more and more drawn to him.

“You’re famous.  Aren’t you?” Caleb asked one day as I neared the end of my stay in the Roosevelt.  I had been sitting and watching him in the pool as I did so often, when he strode toward me and put the question to me.

“To some extent.”

“No.  You’re a really famous artist and writer.  I saw a piece about you in a newspaper, about you moving to Hollywood.  It had your picture.  It was taken here in the hotel.”

“True enough,” I said.

The reporter had interviewed me and taken the photo soon after I arrived in California.  The article had obviously appeared.  I hadn’t given it any thought.  I’d given so many interviews over the years that I forgot about them soon after they occurred.

“You could have told me.”

“It didn’t seem important and it might have sounded like bragging.”

“There are too many braggers in this town already.”

I laughed.

“I bet you know lots of other famous people.”

“I’ve met many famous people.  I can’t claim to know most of them.  I did get rather well acquainted with FDR.  I lived in the White House for some time while I worked on his portrait and Eleanor’s.”

“You actually lived in the White House?”

“It was necessary.  He was rather busy, as you can imagine, so I could only get a few minutes with him most days, usually in the evenings.  I painted his portrait and we talked.  It was actually harder getting time with Eleanor.  You might have seen the headline, First Lady Spends Night in White House.  Then again, you’re too young.  Anyway, she was rarely home.  It took three times as long to finish her portrait than it did Franklin’s.”

“Wow, that’s amazing.  Are you painting any portraits now?”

“No.  I’m not working on any commissions.  I generally prefer to paint what I wish.  I will begin painting again when I move into my new home.  I have been approached by studios, wanting me to paint some backgrounds for them and I must admit I am intrigued to work on such a large scale.  I haven’t decided if I will do it yet, but perhaps.”

“You live the life.”

“It has taken me a long time to get where I am.”

“How old are you?”

“I am fifty-six.”

“Wow, I’m sixteen.”

“You have plenty of time to accomplish things yet.”

“Maybe.”

Caleb soon returned to swimming and I to observing.  The more I gazed at his youthful body, the more obsessed I became with him.

My days at the Roosevelt dwindled until I was down to my last morning by the pool.  While I was eager to move into my new home, I was reluctant to depart from the hotel and I knew that the sole reason for that feeling was Caleb.

I had wondered much about him in the many days I’d observed him.  He was not always at the pool.  There were days he was barely there at all.  I truly hoped he would be present my last morning.  We had developed a relationship, distant, yes, but I felt it necessary to say, ‘goodbye.’  I had wished so often that I had bid Aschenbach, ‘goodbye’ that I was always careful to properly take my leave of others.

I need not have worried.  He was already swimming when I arrived.  I began a new sketch of him, something to remember him by, but not more than an hour had passed when a member of the hotel staff stood on the side of the pool and accosted him.  I could not hear what he was saying, but my young friend was in trouble.  I arose and walked to the pair.

“Excuse me.  Is there a problem?” I asked.

“Yes, but you needn’t concern yourself, Mr. Moore.  I’m sorry to have disturbed you, but this boy is trespassing and has been warned time and again not to sneak into the pool.  I believe it is time to get the police involved.”

Caleb looked uneasy, as well he might.

“I’m afraid there has been a misunderstanding.  I must apologize.  This boy is a model of mine.  I’ve been doing sketches of him in preparation for a painting.  I did not think there would be any objection, but the boy is not to blame.  I am,” I said, showing the staff member my sketch.

“Oh, I’m most sorry, Mr. Moore.  I must apologize to you both.  I wish you had told me sooner,” he said, turning to Caleb.  “Of course, you are welcome if you are a guest of Mr. Moore.  Once more, my apologies to both of you.”  The poor fellow was quite flustered and embarrassed.

“No apologies are necessary.  I assure you.  You were merely doing your job.  I should have informed the hotel Caleb would be here.”

“Thank you.  I will leave you be then.”

Caleb smiled at me as the discomfited man made a hasty exit.

“Thank you for getting me out of that.  I was afraid he was going to call the cops.”

“You’re welcome, but I fear it’s only a temporary solution.  I am moving out of the hotel shortly.”

“Oh,” Caleb said.  I was pleased that the prospect of me leaving distressed him, but I did not like for him to be unhappy.

“You should probably find somewhere else to swim.”

“That’s not so easy.  I’ve been kicked out of several hotels and I can’t afford the Y.”

“Surely, your parents…”

“My dad took off when I was a kid.  My mom died several months ago.”

“Who do you live with then?”

“No one.”

Caleb blushed and looked down.

“I don’t understand.  You must live somewhere.”

“I lived in an abandoned building for a while, but then some rough types moved in.  I look for vacant homes to sleep in mostly.  I look for the ‘For Sale’ signs.”

“You’re homeless?” I asked, attempting to hide my shock.

“Yes.”

I was aghast.  I had always assumed Caleb lived nearby.  I couldn’t conceive of a boy his age having to live like that.

“That simply will not do,” I said.

I thought of Venice and the cholera epidemic long ago.  So many had died then, and most of them the poor.  The same was true of the influenza pandemic of 1918.  It was not inconceivable that something like it would happen here and a boy like Caleb would be at great risk.  I could not let it happen to my beautiful Caleb.

“That’s life,” Caleb said.

“I’m afraid you will have to come live with me.  If you are willing, that is.”

Now that the idea had occurred to me, I was most pleased by it and most eager.

“Live with you?  You barely know me.”

“I know you well enough that I cannot and will not leave you to live in abandoned buildings and homes.  It isn’t safe.”

Caleb nodded, as if to himself.

“Okay,” he said and then smiled at me, a real smile, not merely the ghost of one.

“In that case, I believe the time to depart from the Roosevelt has come.  My bags are already packed.  I suppose you have other attire?” I asked, gazing at Caleb in his swimsuit, which was still dripping onto the smooth concrete.

“Yeah, I have a place I change here.”

“Meet me in the lobby as soon as you’ve changed.”

We split up.  I walked inside and to the front desk, where I paid my bill and asked that my car be called and for assistance in carrying down my luggage.  That done, I returned to my room and made a last check to see if I had left anything.

There was soon a knock at my door.  A boy stood ready with a cart.  I ushered him in and we loaded it with my bags.  I followed him to the elevator and down to the lobby.  A part of me feared that Caleb would not appear and that I would never see him again, but he soon strode in wearing jeans, a rumpled shirt and scruffy looking shoes.  He most certainly needed new attire, but I would see to that.

Chapter Eleven

My car soon arrived.  Caleb gawked at it as the bell boy and Alec, the driver, loaded my bags into the trunk.

“This is your car?  A Rolls Royce?”

“Yes, it’s a 1950 Silver Wraith.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.  I think it looks much better in white than black, don’t you?”

“It’s amazing.”

I tipped the bell boy and then Caleb and I slipped into the back.

“Home, Alec,” I said.

“Yes, sir.”

We sped away from the Roosevelt.

“Alec, I would like you to meet Caleb.  He will be living with me.”

“It’s very nice to meet, sir.”

“Please call me Caleb.  I don’t think I can stand the ‘sir’ stuff.”

“Very well, Caleb.”

Alec was a handsome young man in his mid 20’s who was engaged to be married in a few months.  He, like most of the rest of the staff, came along with the house.

“I can’t remember the last time I was in a car and this is a nice one,” Caleb said.  “I usually walk everywhere or sometimes take the bus.”

“Walking is fine, but for long distances, a car is best.”

“Is your home far?”

“Not that far in distance, but somewhat in time.”

“Yeah, traffic is usually bad here.”

“That’s why it’s so wonderful to have a driver.”

Alec smiled at me in the rearview mirror.

We settled back for the ride and watched the scenery go by.  Of course, the scenery was mostly hotels, buildings, businesses and finally homes.

“Beverly Hills,” Caleb said, reading the large sign as we passed.  “Is that where you live?”

“Yes, beginning today.”

Caleb whistled.  “Wow, that’s where most of the movie stars live.”

“Yes, I was told Gloria Swanson is one of the neighbors.”

“Who?”

“She was a big star, mostly in the silent era.”

“Oh.”

We rode mostly in silence ourselves, except for wordless exclamations on Caleb’s part when he spotted large homes and estates.  The neighborhood began to look familiar to me and soon we turned into the circular drive.

“This is yours?” Caleb asked incredulously, as he gazed at the three-story limestone mansion.

“It is a bit too large, but the light in one of the rooms is absolutely perfect for my work.  There is also plenty of room for guests.”

“It looks like something out of a movie.”

“I believe the exterior has been used in a few.”

Alec stopped the Rolls and Caleb and I exited before he could open the doors for us.  Caleb stood staring up at the house as I opened the front doors.

“Put the bags just inside,” I instructed Alec.

“I can take them to your room.”

“I haven’t actually decided which room to use yet,” I said.

Alec took in my bags.  Caleb and I stepped inside.

“Niles, isn’t it?” I asked as the butler appeared.  I had met him briefly when looking at the house before, but I wasn’t always good with names.

“Yes, sir.  Welcome home, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me, ‘sir.’  Tadzio will be fine.”

“It is unprofessional to be so familiar with one’s employer, sir.”

“Very well, Niles.  Can you assemble the staff please?”

“Certainly, sir.”

“What do you think?” I asked as Niles departed.

“Of Niles or the house?” Caleb asked.

“The house.”

“It’s big enough to be a hotel.”

“I suppose, but not a large one.  I like this foyer, but I suppose it’s a lot of wasted space.”

The foyer was some fifty feet across.  A stair with a wrought iron railing curved along the far wall, leading to the second story.  There was a door beneath it and others to its left and right.  Nude life-size marble statues, most of them male, stood in niches.  The floor was a geometric design of large shapes cut from black and white stone.

Niles soon had the staff rounded up in the foyer.  I didn’t know how he managed it so quickly.

“Hello, everyone.  I met some of you when I toured the house with the real estate agent, but I’d like to introduce myself.  I am Tadzio Moore.  This is Caleb, he will be residing with me.”

“Hi,” Caleb, who seemed a bit overwhelmed by the staff, said.

“I won’t keep you long, but I’m sure you’re anxious and a bit uneasy because the house has changed hands.  I want to assure you that I have no intention of making any changes to the staff.”

Most of them looked quite relieved.

“I will try to learn all your names as quickly as possible.  Please call me Tadzio.  I’m not one for much formality.  You’ll find me easy going and undemanding.  I’m an artist and mostly I’ll want quiet for my work.  I look forward to getting to know all of you.  That is all.”

“Thank you, sir.  Master Caleb,” Niles said and then shooed the staff, except for the cook, away and disappeared himself.

“Master Caleb?” Caleb asked.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to that, at least until we can loosen Niles up a bit,” I said.

“I can’t picture him ever being loose.”

“Niles is very precise and formal, but he’s also rather kind,” said the cook.  “Mr… Tadzio.  What would you like for lunch?”

I turned to Caleb.  “What would you like?” I asked, partly to stall for time while I tried to recall the cook’s name.

“Hamburgers and French fries?”

“That sounds wonderful.  That is doable… Julia, isn’t it?” I said, suddenly remembering, I hoped.

“Yes, it is,” Julia said with a smile.  “I’ll get right to it.  Lunch will be ready at noon.”

“Thank you.”

Julia departed.

Do all the staff live here?” Caleb asked, gazing at his surroundings.

“Yes, it’s part of their compensation.”

“I can’t believe you have a staff,” Caleb said.

“It’s necessary with a home this size.  Now, we both need to pick out bedrooms, so let’s go upstairs.”

Caleb helped me with my bags and we deposited them on the landing of the second floor.  We toured the bedrooms together.

“Twelve bedrooms?  Where does the staff live?”

“Most of them have rooms on the third floor.  Alec has an apartment over the garage.”

I could tell that Caleb especially liked the bedroom done up in turquoise.  I preferred the one next to it decorated in shades of lavender and purple, which was far more beautiful and tasteful than it sounds.

“Would you like this one?” I asked when we returned to the turquoise room after viewing them all.

“I’d love it.”

“It’s yours then.  I believe I’m taking the one next door.”

“I can’t believe this,” Caleb said, smiling.

“Believe it.  This is now your room.”

We walked back downstairs where I showed Caleb the billiard room, living room, library, study and the enormous kitchen, where Julia was working.

“This is big enough to cook for an army,” Caleb said.  “There are two stoves and two refrigerators.”

“I never have to worry about counter space,” Julia said.  “Oh, I always keep freshly baked cookies in the jar on the small table by the back door, in case you like that sort of thing.”

Caleb immediately walked over and snagged two.  He handed one to me and then took a bite.”

“This is so good, Julia!  I consider you a friend already!”

“This is excellent, Julia.  I’ll have to be careful or I’ll eat too many.  Now, Caleb, there is one more room I want to show you before we take a look outside,” I said.

I led Caleb out of the kitchen, across the foyer and into the large room that was the reason I had purchased the house.  Enormous windows dominated two walls.  The floor was tile with a simple Greek key border.  Some might have seen nothing more than a mostly empty room.  I saw my studio.

“Wow, this could be one of those fancy ball rooms.”

“Yes, I would be content with something far plainer, but the light is the key.  I have dreamed of a room with this lighting for my studio.”

“Well, I don’t know that much about art, but this should be a great place to work.  I actually get to live in this house?”

“Yes.  Consider this your home.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“As I’m sure you are aware, I find you beautiful, Caleb.  I enjoy looking at you and when I discovered you had no home, I could not simply leave you.”

“So, what is it exactly you want from me?” Caleb asked.  “What do I have to do to earn this?

I knew what he was thinking and I did want that from him, but I could not in good conscience initiate that kind of relationship with him when he was dependent on me, and, therefore, would not.

“I want you to earn your keep by being my model from time to time.”

“That’s it?” he asked skeptically.

“That’s it.  I will have the pleasure of your companionship, the pleasure of being near you and I will have the perfect model for my work.  I love beauty—flowers, trees, art, music and young men like yourself.  You are beautiful, Caleb and I count myself lucky to be near you.  I’m getting quite a lot out of it, don’t you think?”

Caleb shrugged.

“Now, let’s finish up our tour with the pool.”

We walked back the way we’d come.  Caleb no doubt wondered if I was being truthful with him, but I knew trust would take time.  I had made no secret of my attraction to him, so what was a boy of his age to think when a man easily old enough to be his father offered him a place to live?  I was sure such arrangements were not uncommon.  Part of me desired such an arrangement with Caleb, but he was so dependent on me at present that I would feel as if he submitted because he had no place to go.

We exited through the kitchen door and walked out onto an extensive paved patio that led directly to a large pool framed on the far side with columns and statues of nude youths.

“Wow, this is some pool.”

“It’s modeled on the pool at Emperor Hadrian’s Palace of Tivoli.  The statues are all of his lover, Antinous.”

The statues were another reason I’d purchased the home, but it was the studio that was the true gem.

“This is better than the pool at the Roosevelt.”

“Yes, and it’s yours to use when you wish.  You may now if you desire.  We need to go out later and pick up a few things for you, but there won’t be time for that before lunch.”

Caleb nodded and then looked at me.

“Thank you, Tadzio,” he said.

“You’re welcome and thank you.”

Caleb departed for his room.  I wandered around the pool.  The water was crystal clear blue and the reflection of the sunlight and the few clouds above were breathtaking.  The tall columns perfectly framed the life-size statues and the Hollywood hills in the distance.  Enormous planters held a selection of flowering plants artfully mixed with greenery.  Large palm trees stood past the columns, acting as a second border.  It all seemed a bit grand for me and a bit much.  I was a rather simple man at heart.

Caleb soon returned and dived into the pool.  I took a seat in a chaise lounge and watched him.  It was like being back at the Roosevelt again, only better.  There were no distractions here.  Caleb’s youthful form, the curve and swell of his muscles and his smooth skin were things of beauty.  I was lucky to be in his presence.

I wondered what the staff would think of this young boy living with me.  They would probably think exactly what I’d think, but it didn’t matter.  They could think what they wished.  I had never feared scandal.  Artists were supposed to be eccentric and even scandalous.

Caleb wore his swimsuit to lunch.  Julia quickly grabbed a towel from the laundry room for him to sit on.  We ate in the kitchen, instead of the dining room and chatted while Julia busied herself about the kitchen.

“Julia, this lunch is wonderful,” I said.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, it’s great.  I think this is the best burger I’ve ever tasted,” Caleb said.

“Oh, you’re going to get on my good side very quickly with comments like that,” Julia said.

I liked Julia.  I found her very homey.

“After lunch, you and I are going shopping,” I said.  “You need clothing and I’m sure a few other things as well.”

“You’re too nice to me.”

“No, I’m not.  You are my star model.”

“Aren’t I your only model?”

“A mere technicality.  You will be the perfect inspiration.  Don’t you find him beautiful, Julia?”

“Very beautiful.”

“Stop,” Caleb said, blushing.  It amused me to see so bold a boy blush at compliments.  I think it was because the compliment came from Julia.

“Enjoy it while you can, Caleb.  Beauty, like youth, does not last,” I said with a sigh.

He shrugged.  He did not understand.  Of course, he didn’t.  Those with youth never realized its true value until it was gone.  I had a better idea than most when I was young, but even I didn’t fully understand what I had until it began to slip away.

“Why don’t you go change and I’ll try to find Alec and ask him to bring the car around?” I asked Caleb when we’d finished eating.

“Sure.  I’ll be back in a few.  Thanks, Julia.”

“You are welcome.”

“Yes, thank you, Julia.  Where am I most likely to find Alec?”

“You don’t need to seek him.  You can call him.  There is a list of numbers over here and there’s another in the library and one will be placed in your bedroom.  His number will ring his apartment and the garage.”

“Thank you, Julia.  It will take me a while to learn how things work around here, but I will adjust to the ways of the house,” I said with a smile.

I found the list and made my call.  It was as easy to call for service here as it was in my hotel.

“Julia, do you know of any good clothing stores where I can find suitable attire for Caleb, the kind of clothing he would like and perhaps a few more formal things as well?”

“I recommend Gustav’s if you don’t mind buying off the rack.  They won’t try to cheat you like some clothiers in Los Angeles, they’re reasonable and will alter to fit.  I buy my clothing there.”

“That sounds wonderful.  I don’t care for businesses that are too snooty.”

Julia laughed.  “You’re not what I expected, Tadzio.”

“What did you expect?”

“Someone more haughty, demanding and remote.  Someone who would want to change everything and insist things be done his way.  Someone who would be aghast if the staff called him by his first name.”

“Oh, I’m none of those things.  I’ve had a privileged existence, but observation of others has taught me the risks of being haughty.  I much prefer being kind to others and thinking of them as friends.  As for changing things, I wouldn’t think of it.  Why should everyone else have to change when it’s so much easier for me to learn how things are done?  I’m sure everyone here has everything worked out the way it works best.”

I headed for the foyer, where Caleb joined me shortly.  His clothing definitely didn’t match his beauty, but I was amazed he’d managed so well without a home.

Alec and the car were waiting on us when we stepped out the front door.  Alec opened the door for us.

“That really isn’t necessary, Alec.”

“I take my job seriously and like to do it properly.”

“Very well.  We shall do it your way.”

Caleb and I climbed in, Alec shut the door and was soon behind the steering wheel.

“Please take us to Gustav’s,” I said and Alec pulled out.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of riding in this car,” Caleb said.

“The Rolls Royce is my favorite make of car, but it’s all I’ve ever known.  They last for years.  This is only my second.  How do you like it, Alec?”

“I love it.  It took me a bit to get used to driving it, but I had time to practice before you called on me the first time.”

We arrived at Gustav’s only half an hour later.  It had the look of a department store, which I liked.  We entered to find three floors of clothing and accessories.  The second floor was where the men’s clothing was located, so we walked up the stairs.

“May I help you?” asked a handsome sales clerk soon after we arrived.

“Yes.  Caleb needs everything, so if you could help him, I would appreciate it.  Caleb, I’m sure you’ll be much better at picking out clothing for yourself than me, so I will sit over here and let you get to it.  Buy whatever you like.  Price is no object.”

Caleb looked surprised as the clerk pulled him away to begin shopping.

I remembered the days when my mother picked out all my clothing.  She had good taste, but even so I would have preferred to pick out my own.  I was not going ask Caleb to wear what I thought he should wear, although I might have a few pieces made for him to wear while he modelled for me.  I had one in particular, a recreation of a military cut jacket with rows of gold buttons I’d picked out for myself when I was young.  I enquired if Gustav’s made custom pieces and was directed to the third floor.  There, I sketched out what I wanted, then picked out navy blue fabric and even buttons.  I ordered the jacket and matching pants and also opened an account with Gustav’s.  All that remained was having Caleb measured.

I returned to the second floor to check on Caleb’s progress.  He had picked out a few items, but not enough.

“This is a nice start, but you’ll need at least four times what I see here,” I said, looking at what was placed on the counter.

“Four times?” Caleb asked, somewhat taken aback.

“Yes, get to work, young man.”

Caleb laughed and did so.

I wandered around while I waited, but didn’t purchase anything for myself.  I had plenty of clothing and liked what I already owned.  More was unnecessary.

When Caleb had finished making his selections, I took him upstairs to be measured, telling him only it was for something special I was having made for him.  That done, three clerks carried everything to the car for us and we departed.

“I’ve never had so many clothes before,” Caleb said.

“A handsome young man like yourself should be dressed nicely.  I rather enjoyed clothing when I was your age.  My mother called me her peacock.”

“Peacock?”

“Male peacocks spread out their tail features and strut their stuff.  I wasn’t vain, but I was aware I was handsome.”

“You may turn me into a peacock with all these clothes.”

“There is nothing wrong in that, but you must never allow yourself to become conceited.  It isn’t attractive.”

Caleb nodded.  “Yeah, I’ve known guys like that.”

“I need to purchase art supplies, but I can have Alec drop you off at the house first.”

“I don’t mind going.”

“No?  Very well, then.  I didn’t want to risk boring you.”

I gave Alec the address of the art supply store I had discovered and in minutes, we were inside.

“There’s a lot of stuff in here,” Caleb said.

“Mr. Moore!  Welcome, again,” said the owner.

“I’m here to stock up, Maurice, but you must call me Tadzio.”

“I will try, but it will be difficult for me to call such an illustrious artist by his first name.”

“Nonsense, I even sign my pieces, ‘Tadzio’.”

“I will try.  I will try.  What do you need?”

I began reciting a list.  Maurice snapped his fingers and his sons and daughter gathered the supplies.  Theirs was a family-owned business, which I liked.

“Is there anything you’d like, Caleb?” I asked.

“Could I get a sketch pad?”

“Of course.  Maurice, pick out a nice sketch pad for Caleb and a good set of pencils, please.  Anything else, Caleb?”

“Oh, no.  I’ve seen you sketch and thought I might like to try.”

“Wonderful.”

We were soon on our way.  The Rolls was overloaded with our purchases.  Even the front passenger seat was full.  This was the beginning of getting established in the new house.

Chapter Twelve

The days passed.  My belongings that had been in storage, mostly easels, works in progress and other art supplies, were delivered and placed in my studio.  The once nearly empty space was filled with the scent of oil paints, tempera, turpentine and varnish.  I had missed those scents.

Caleb spent much of his time in the pool and I spent mine watching him.  I could not help but be drawn to his beautiful features and smooth, muscular body.  I had the pleasure of his company and presence most of the day.  We ate together and spent hours together in my studio where he posed for me.  Every moment I yearned to reach out and touch him, but I did not.  Only now did I fully understand Aschenbach.

My first work featuring my beautiful boy was of Caleb peering around the trunk of a tree, his chest bare, his blond tresses in disarray and his eyes widened as if he was a wild child peering out of the woods for the first time at some unseen glimpse of civilization.  I soon decided to place a laurel wreath about his head and the image was perfected.

It was necessary to touch him at the beginning of each session and after each break so that his torso and head were in precisely the right positions.  That minor contact set me on fire with desire for him, but I used it to fuel my art.

I was tempted by him, but refused to take advantage.  We were already growing closer and he was more than merely a beautiful boy to me.

“Can I see it yet?” Caleb asked at the end of yet another session.

“It’s not quite finished.”

“Please?”

I could not deny him yet again when he gazed at me with those enchanting blue eyes.

“Very well, but it’s not complete.  Keep that in mind.  No one has ever viewed my work before it was finished before.”

Caleb stepped toward me, his muscles moving under his smooth skin.  He joined me behind my easel and drew in a sharp breath.

“That’s amazing.  I look wild and uncivilized.”

“It’s your deep basic nature.”

“You think I’m wild and uncivilized?” Caleb asked with a grin.

“That is the deep basic nature of all of us.”

“It’s me,” he said, gazing at the painting.  “I’ve never worn a wreath in my hair before, but somehow, it’s exactly me.  How do you do that?”

“That I fear, I cannot explain, but this is what I see when I look at you.  I see you in many other guises too, but this is part of the essence of you.”

“Amazing.”

Caleb looked up at me and smiled again.  I could not help but run my hand over his blond locks.  I leaned in slightly, but then stopped myself and drew away.

“Why don’t you go have some fun?  I’m going to work on this a bit more.  I’d like to get it finished.”

“You don’t need me to finish it?”

“No.  It only needs a few minor details and most of those are in the background.  I know holding a position for a long time is tiring and makes the muscles stiff.”

“You modelled for artists?”

“Yes, for a few and especially one during my years in New York and another in Paris.”

“Wow, you’ve been everywhere.”

“No one has been everywhere, Caleb.”

“You’ve been far more places than me.  I’ve never been outside of Los Angeles.”

“You are young and there will be plenty of opportunities for travel in your future, I’m sure.”

“I hope so.  I’ll see you later,” Caleb said, departing and taking my heart with him.

I sighed.  My life would have been far less complicated if I’d merely given Caleb some money to help him along and then left him behind.  Having him live with me was a constant temptation.  How could I not desire such a beautiful boy?  It was more than physical desire.  If there was nothing more to it than that, resisting would have been easier, but the truth was that I adored him.  I wanted to make him happy.  I wanted to help him through his life and I knew that would mean heartache for me.  Someday, he would leave me and, no doubt, I would help him to do so because I wanted what was best for him.  At what point Caleb had changed from an object of admiration into a boy I cared about, I did not know, but it had happened and there was no going back.

I returned to the painting and lost myself in my art.  It had often come to my rescue in the past.  I put my emotions into it always, which is, I think, why my paintings were in such demand.  When I painted a landscape, the subject wasn’t really the landscape.  It was, instead, a feeling, a thought, a dilemma, a struggle, an epiphany or some mixture of these.  The painting in front of me of Caleb peeking around the trunk of a tree in a lush forest was on its simplest level about the beauty of a boy, but more than that, it was about the untamed heart of all boys, their desires and desirability.  It was about their unpredictability and the possibility that they might do anything.

I added my last finishing touches and then signed the canvas, Tadzio.  Now, all that remained was to let the paint fully dry and varnish it.  I immediately began to think about my next endeavor.

***

Caleb stepped into the library, where I sat reading in a tufted red-leather armchair.

“Oh, am I bothering you?” he asked when I looked up from my book.

“You are never a bother,” I said, putting the bookmark between the pages and setting my book aside.  “The wonderful thing about books is that they are endlessly patient.  They will wait hours, days, months and even years to be picked up again without the least protest.  What can I do for you?”

Caleb chewed on his lip.  “I want you to look at something and I want your honest opinion, no matter how brutal.  I’d rather have the truth.”

“About?”

“This.  I made a sketch of Julia as she worked in the kitchen.  I know it’s not very good.  Will you tell me what you think of it?”

“I always give my honest opinion about art,” I said, holding out my hand.

Caleb approached, looking so very handsome in tan shorts and a deep purple button-down short-sleeve shirt.  He hesitantly held out his sketch pad, concern written on his handsome features.

“I will give you the negatives first.  Your perspective is horrible.  Your sketch is two-dimensional.  The details are… primitive, but on to the positives, you’ve captured her features very well and even better, you have captured her essence.  I see more than Julia when I look at this sketch.  You’ve also drawn her hands with great skill.  Hands and feet are always difficult.”

“So, it’s not complete rubbish, but I have no future as an artist.”

“You have much to learn, but you also have talent.  Do you wish to become an artist?”

“Yes, but I also wish to become an actor.”

“There is no reason you cannot be both.”

“Yes, but will I be good enough at either?”

“Being good enough does not matter.  All that matters is that you do something you love.  If you wish to be an artist, be an artist.  If you wish to be an actor, do so.  If you wish to be both, then be both.”

“Just like that?”

“You have a long road ahead of you and much work to do, but yes.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“You’ve already started, at least as an artist.  I can help you with that.  I’m afraid I can’t teach you anything about acting, but I do know a few things about art.”

“Will you… teach me?”

“Of course, I will.”

“I take so much from you.  I give you nothing in return.”

“Nonsense, you give me your company and you give me inspiration.”

“I could give you… more,” Caleb said, gazing at me.

I knew what he meant.  I desired him and he knew it.  I could have him if I wanted.  He would give me his body willingly, but Caleb wasn’t like other boys in my past.  I wanted nothing from him he didn’t truly want to give.  I didn’t wish to strike a bargain or make an exchange.  I didn’t wish to accept payment.  I cared too much for him for that.

“That is… unnecessary.  Come sit near me and I’ll show you a trick,” I said, turning his pad to a blank page.

Caleb seemed confused as to why I had not taken him up on his offer, when I was so clearly attracted to him, but pulled a chair up and sat beside me.

“Perspective can be a bit difficult at first, but if you draw a few lines to guide you, it’s much easier,” I said, drawing light lines in pencil, receding to a point.  “You must envision where you are looking and how the scene before you seems to diminish as the distance increases.  The further an object is away, the smaller it appears.  That is why you can block out the entire sun or moon with only your hand.  They are very large, but also very far away.  Similarly, a tree that is large in the foreground, will appear much smaller in the background.  These lines will act as a guide.  Many artists use some form of them to get a grip on the perspective of their subject.”

“Do you use them?”

“I did, long ago, but I have drawn and painted for so many years I no longer need them.”

“I get this,” Caleb said, gazing at the pad now in his hands.

“Good.  I want you to go and draw the same scene over again, but this time with improved perspective and more attention to detail.”

“I will,” Caleb said, and stood.  “Thank you, Tadzio.”

“You are welcome.”

He departed, but I did not return to my book.  I had work to do.  I could easily teach Caleb about art here at the house, but his interest in acting was another matter.  I was sure there was something I could do to help him there as well.  Afterall, what good is fame if one can’t gain a few favors?

I had settled into life in my new home quite nicely.  My kindness to the staff was rewarded not only with kindness in return, but with genuine warmth.  This overly large house had come to feel like a home and not only for me.  Julia told me the house was a much better place to work than it ever had been before and that everyone was extremely happy to be here.  That pleased me immensely.  The world was forever in need of more happiness.

***

“I bought you a present, but don’t get too excited.  It’s clothing.”

Caleb smiled.  “You shouldn’t spend so much money on me.  You do too much for me.”

“What I do, I do because I wish.  Now, open it.”

Caleb took the large box, lifted off the lid and pulled out the jacket and pants I’d had made for him.

“Wow.  I love this!” he said, gazing at the rows of gold buttons.  “It looks military.  I love anything military.”

“I wore one like it when I was your age and younger.  It was one of the few items of clothing I was allowed to choose for myself.  The clothiers recreated it from a sketch I drew for them and material I picked out.”

“This is what they measured me for, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I love it Tadzio.  Thank you!” Caleb hugged me.  “I want to try it on.  I’ll be right back!”

Caleb hurried from the room.  His enthusiasm and the hug I received told me he was sincere.  I was pleased.  His happiness was my own.

“How do I look?” he asked when he reentered the room a few minutes later.

“You’re beautiful, but then you’re always beautiful.”  He truly was.  His golden locks brushed the collar that fit closely around his neck.  It was no wonder Aschenbach was drawn to me when I’d worn a similar jacket when I was young.

“I feel magnificent in it.”

I smiled instead of telling him he was magnificent.  I feared I overdid my praise of him.  It was hard to hold back.

“This creates more work for me.  Seeing you in that brings on a desire in me to paint you wearing it.”

“Yes, please.  Will that be your next project?”

“Perhaps the one after.  Next, I wish to paint you as Antinous.”

“Antinous?”

I gave Caleb the short version of the story of Antinous and the Emperor Hadrian and how Antinous became a god after he drowned in the Nile.

“I don’t think I’m up to representing a god, but I will do my best.”

“You are up to it.”

You are a god, at least for a while.

“Thank you again.”

“You are welcome, again.”

***

I soon began the project I had mentioned, Caleb as Antinous.  Caleb had no reservation about disrobing when I asked.  He seemed quite comfortable, even when I touched him to place him in the classic Antinous pose that could be seen in the statues around the pool and in museums around the world; Antinous gazing slightly down and to the left, his long locks framing his features.  His muscular body swelling with power and pure sexuality.

I now had my first look at the parts of Caleb that had previously remained hidden.  Some might think I planned my project with an eye to seeing Caleb naked, but that was not the case.  Seeing him nude from both the front and back increased my desire, but it also increased my inspiration and appreciation for Caleb’s incredible beauty.

“That’s it.  That is the pose you must hold.  Try to fix it in your mind,” I said and then picked up my sketch pad.

“You are the perfect model for this piece,” I said as I sketched away.  “Seeing you now, I realize you bear more than a passing resemblance to the god.  Perhaps my mind noted it unconsciously, but I could not find a better model.”

“I doubt I look like a god,” Caleb said.

“Oh, but you do, Antinous at least.  I posed as Antinous myself in my youth, back when I was beautiful, too, but whereas I was slim, you have the muscles needed to be Antinous.  You could be mistaken for a statue of Antinous come to life.”

“You’re going to make me laugh and then I won’t be able to hold my pose.”

“You’ll see.  When I finish the painting, we shall compare it to one of the statues of Antinous outside and you’ll understand the resemblance.  You are lucky to be so beautiful.”

“You will make me conceited if you continue.”

“No.  I see no danger of that.  One of your more attractive features is that you do not think too highly of yourself.  While I was not conceited in my youth, I could be a bit of a showoff and a tease at times.”

“Oh, I think I’m like that too.”

“If so, not as much as the young Tadzio.  I find myself wondering how you would have liked him.”

“Tadzio… Oh my!”

I turned to my head to see Julia facing the open door.  Caleb’s nudity had obviously shocked her.

“If you are going to work for an artist, you might as well grow accustomed to seeing an occasional nude model,” I said.

“It’s okay, Julia.  I’m not shy,” Caleb said.

Julia turned.  Her face was quite red.

“I’m terribly sorry, but the grocery messed up my order.  I have no ribs for supper tonight and I know how you were looking forward to them.”

“That’s quite alright.  I love everything you prepare,” I said.

“I second that,” Caleb said.

“Thank you.”

Julia looked in Caleb’s direction for a moment, then quickly looked away and blushed again.

“I have pork chops on hand, will that be okay?”

“It will be delicious,” I said.

Caleb and I waited until Julia had departed and was out of earshot before we both laughed.

“Her face looked like a tomato,” Caleb said.

“Not everyone is as accustomed to nudity as an artist.”

“I suppose so.  I don’t really see why people are so hung up on it.”

“The world is a strange place, filled with ignorance.”

“For sure.  I guess it’s a good thing I don’t swim nude in the pool.  I don’t want to embarrass Julia.  She’s really nice.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.  I think seeing you naked is a bit too shocking for her.”

Later, we relaxed around the pool and Caleb swam.  I wasn’t getting in so I wore shorts and a comfortable shirt.  I liked to dress well, but when I was home, I was far more concerned with comfort than fashion.

I watched Caleb as he swam, just as I had at The Roosevelt.  He was truly a thing of beauty.  It was a shame that such beauty did not last, but then perhaps we would not value it so much.  The same was true of life.  If our lives did not end, we would likely not value the time we had.

***

I spent much of my time with Caleb.  There were long hours in the studio and leisure time spent by the pool.  We also led our own separate lives.  I had given Caleb use of the car and he sometimes departed alone.  Where he went and what he did I did not ask, but sometimes he came back full of excitement over what he’d done or seen and often pulled me away from whatever I was doing to tell me, or sometimes even go with him so he could show me.

I had less leisure time than in the past, but I did not mind.  I spent some of my time instructing Caleb in art and even more working to bring about his dreams.  I wanted to give him everything he desired and all the more so because he showed not the least trace of greed.

“My neck is beginning to hurt,” Caleb said after another long session posing in the studio.

“We should stop for the day.  I have something to discuss with you anyway.”

Caleb relaxed from his Antinous pose and moved his head around to loosen up the muscles.  I walked over, stepped behind him and rubbed his shoulders as he stood naked.

“Oh, that feels good, but I hope Julia doesn’t walk in.”

I laughed.  “She avoids the studio whenever possible.  You’re especially tense today.  I’m sorry.  I had you hold the pose too long.  I sometimes lose track of time while I’m working.  You’re a great model, Caleb.”

“It’s okay.  I like posing.  While I do, I feel like I am Antinous.”

I did not say that I thought of him as my Antinous because I did not want him to think I had designs on him.  I would never take advantage of him.

I massaged Caleb’s shoulders and then his neck.  Touching him was a delight, as was feeling his muscles beneath my fingers.  Aschenbach had never been able to touch me like this or see me naked.   If I had my life to live over again, I would have allowed him both, but then I think he was too uptight and reserved to have taken advantage of any opportunity I might have given him.  He was far more like Julia than me.

I did not take advantage of my current close proximity to the beautiful naked boy standing in front of me, but I did admire the shape of his buttocks after I’d finished and he stepped toward his clothing.  He remained facing away from me.  It was not from shyness, but for another reason.  As he reached for his boxers, I caught a glimpse of his penis, now standing at full attention.  I pretended not to notice, but walked to my easel, picked up my brushes and began to clean them as he dressed.

“Have a seat,” I said, indicating the loveseat near the windows when he was once more clad.

Caleb did so and gazed at me with an expression of both curiosity and anxiety.

“You’re not… getting tired of me, are you?” he asked.

“Never.”

Caleb smiled and relaxed.  “What then?  You look serious.”

“I just don’t want you to get too excited because this may well go nowhere.  I have arranged an audition for you.”

“An audition?”

“Yes, for a guest appearance on a television program.”

“Seriously?” Caleb asked, his excitement evident in his voice.

“Yes, but it’s only an audition and many others are being considered for the part.  There is no guarantee you will get the role.  Considering your lack of experience, it’s unlikely, but the experience itself will be valuable to you if you wish to pursue a career as an actor.”

“I understand.  What show?”

“I Love Lucy.”

“That’s the most popular show there is!”

“Yes, it is.  I’ve also obtained an agent for you.”

“I have an agent?  That’s incredible!  How did you do that?”

“This particular agent is a huge fan of my work.  It cost me a painting.”

“But, your paintings sell for thousands.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this for me.”

“I want to help you pursue your dreams, Caleb.  I want you to enjoy your life as I have mine.  Now, you must understand that having an agent is no guarantee of success either.  Plenty of unemployed actors have agents.  You will have to work hard and attend audition after audition.  You will have to accept failure after failure.”

“I’m willing.”

“If your agent wants you to take classes, I will pay for them.  Whatever she suggests, I will arrange.”

Caleb stood, pulled me up, hugged me tightly and put his head on my shoulder.  I patted his back.  When he released me, I reached for the large envelope sitting on the table nearby.

“In here, you will find the script, with the lines for your audition highlighted.  I suggest you study it.  Your audition is tomorrow.”

Caleb gulped, but also grinned.

“Thank you!” he said again.

“You’re welcome.  Now, get to work.”

Caleb nodded, grinned at me again and departed.  I sat back on the loveseat.  I feared he was too excited.  His chances were slim.  I knew just enough about acting to know that, succeed or fail tomorrow, he had a long, difficult road ahead.

Later, I heard him practicing as I passed his room.  I saw him working on his lines as he paced around the pool.  I don’t know how he managed it, but he even got Niles to run lines with him.  That was the shock of the day.  The boy was clearly enthused.  I hoped I was doing the right thing by getting him an audition.  Rejection was a painful thing and actors received heaps of it.

We headed for Desilu the next day.  Caleb gawked as we pulled up to the guard station at the main gates.  Alec gave the guard Caleb’s name and received directions.  The Rolls was soon parked by a large soundstage.  We all stepped out onto the Desilu lot.

“Enter that door and the audition will be in the fourth room to the right,” Alec said, repeating the guard’s words.

Caleb nodded.

“Good luck, or I think I’m supposed to say, break a leg,” I said.

“You’re not coming?”

“No, this is something you must do yourself.”

“I understand.”  Caleb looked at us both, nodded and then entered.

“I fear he’s in for heartbreak,” I said.

“This town crushes the dreams of many,” Alec said.

“Don’t tell me you wanted to be an actor.”

“I did.  I gave it my best shot and failed.  So, I became a driver.”

“Perhaps, I could…”

“No.  Thank you, but no.  I’ve had my fill of auditions and rejections.  It took a long time, but I realized I wasn’t cut out to be an actor and that I wasn’t as good as I thought.”

“Are you happy?” I asked.

“Yes.  I enjoy my job.  I get to live in a beautiful apartment.  I have a wonderful employer with a kind heart.”

“Happiness is what’s most important in life.  If you have that, you’re set.”

“I do.”

“I’m glad.  I think I’ll take a look around.  We may be in for a long wait.”

I did just that.  I had never been inside a film studio before.  It wasn’t terribly interesting at first, merely one huge soundstage after another, but then someone pulled a large rack of flashy costumes that sparkled in the sunlight past me and I nodded to a couple of cowboys on their way to work.  I soon came to a soundstage with its huge doors open wide.  All was quiet inside so I entered.

Coming from the bright light outside into the unlit soundstage, I could make out little at first, but slowly I was able to discern the various sets.  One looked like an office, another an apartment, and then there was an exterior of a building.  It all seemed familiar and then I recognized the sets.  This was where The Untouchables was filmed.  How fascinating.

What looked so real on TV, wasn’t at all.  Intellectually, I knew that all along, but seeing a room with only three walls and no ceiling truly brought it home.  Caleb wished to enter a strange world.  It was certainly not the world for me.

I returned to the car after having a good look around the sets and a long walk around the studio.  While Alec and I waited, I had a nice conversation with him about his failed acting career.  I knew it was difficult to make it as an actor, but perhaps it was even harder than I thought.

Caleb looked upset when he returned to the Rolls sometime later.  I knew without asking that the audition had not gone well.

“Let’s go home, Alec,” I said.

“I blew it.  I got so nervous I flubbed my lines.  Everyone was very nice, but I know what they must be thinking,” Caleb said as the car began to move.

“It often takes a great deal of failure to reach success.”

“Yes, but will I ever be a success?”

“There is no guarantee of that, but it is the journey that is important and you will learn from every failure, every mistake.  Even if you never become an actor, trying may lead you to the life you want to live.”

“Thank you, Tadzio, but that’s easy for you to say.  You’re a famous artist and writer.”

“Do you think I was born famous?  I had an unfair advantage.  My family was wealthy.  That allowed me to fail again and again and again until I succeeded.  My first novel was dreadful!  It was so horrible I burned it long ago for fear someone would discover it.  The second and third weren’t that great either, but the fourth wasn’t too bad.  My first painting was hideous!  The next was a disaster.  The one after that looked as it had been painted by a deranged monkey.”

Caleb laughed.

“You’re making this up to make me feel better.”

“No.  I never lie.  All this is the truth.”

“Yes, but you succeeded and I may not.”

“What I said is still true.  I value the experiences I had trying to become a writer and painter.  If I had not succeeded, I know those experiences would still be valuable to me.  They would still have made me who I am.  The outcome doesn’t matter all that much.  Life is what happens while you’re making plans and living life is what is important—just living, nothing else.”

I wasn’t sure Caleb completely grasped what I was telling him, or if he could, but at least he was considering it and it helped him get his mind off his audition.

Chapter Thirteen

“Can I sketch you?” Caleb asked as I sat by the pool.

He had just climbed out and water cascaded down his smooth, muscular torso.

“I think I’d be a poor subject for a sketch, but yes.  It seems only fair.”

Caleb grinned.  “I’ll run and get my pad.”

He did just that and returned, still in his swimsuit.  I wondered what poor Julia thought of him running around half-naked.  I supposed she could handle it.

“How do you want me?” I asked.

“Gazing toward the pool, as you so often do.”  I did as he asked.  “Perfect.  Stay like that.”

I did so.  My modeling years were far, far behind me.  Holding a pose was not as easy as it seems, but I had little trouble.  My main difficulty came from wanting to gaze at Caleb.  I could never get enough of seeing him, which is one reason he was currently the only subject of my art.

Caleb sketched quickly.  He sketched far more quickly than I had ever done.  His sketches had improved steadily and I had taught him how to paint.  He progressed in that quickly too and was already quite good.   His main interest was acting, but I harbored a secret desire that he would become an artist instead.

I had to control myself to keep a small smile from appearing on my lips.  I was like a father who wanted his son to follow in his footsteps.  I most certainly had paternal feelings toward this boy, even as I desired him.  Life was often complicated.

“There!” Caleb announced perhaps an hour later.  “What do you think?” he asked, handing the pad to me.

“This is remarkable,” I said, wincing slightly from my stiff neck.

Caleb walked around behind me and began to massage my shoulders and neck as I had often massaged his after a session.  His touch increased my yearning for him.

“Do you mean that?” he asked.

“You, young man, must learn to take a compliment.”

“I can take a compliment!  You often tell me I’m beautiful and I do not argue with you.”

“That is because you are beautiful and you know it.  This is remarkable.  Your progress is astonishing.  I mean every word of it.  You know I do not lie.  Haven’t I told you the truth about your drawings and paintings that were less than good?”

“You told me one was a good effort, but still horrible.”

“There you have it.”

“Thank you for teaching me.  Thank you for everything,” Caleb said as I stood.

“You are welcome.  I love teaching you and doing things for you.”

Caleb stepped in front of me and gazed up into my eyes.  His slight smile filled me with warmth.  He surprised me by reaching up, placing his hand on the back of my neck and pulling me toward him.  He pressed his lips to mine and kissed me.

The kiss lasted only a moment, but it set me on fire.  Even so, I refused to take advantage.

“Caleb, you owe me nothing,” I said.

“You are so silly sometimes, Tadzio, and that is one of the things I love about you.  I know how very much you want me.  I’ve always known.  How could I not?”

“What I have done for you, I have done because I wanted to do so.  I expect nothing in return beyond the pleasure of gazing upon you and of your company.”

“I know, but have you considered that I might want you?”

Caleb kissed me again, more deeply and despite myself I returned his kiss.

“Caleb, I…” I began when he pulled his lips from mine.

“Shhh.  This isn’t payment for what you’ve done.  It’s what I want.  I swear it.”

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him again.  He kissed me once more and this time slipped his tongue between my lips.  I could feel his substantial penis poking into me.  He kissed me for several long moments, then pulled away.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for such a long time, Tadzio,” Caleb said.

“Why me?  Why not an attractive boy your own age?”

“Boys my age and immature and foolish.  They are flighty and want only one thing.  When the sex is over, they lose interest.  You have taken an interest in me.  You have done so much for me and I know it is without even the most minor ulterior motive.  You want me and you will not make a move because you care more about me than yourself.  You have so much to teach me that boys my age cannot.”

“I would be lying if I said I do not want you, but I do not want our relationship to change, Caleb.  I know we have not been together long, but in so many ways I think of you as a son.”

“Yes, and you have treated me like a son instead of a homeless boy you could have had for a few dollars.  You have respected me and shown me nothing but kindness.  I won’t force myself upon you, but, know this, Tadzio.  I want you.  I have since you began watching me in the pool at the hotel.  I fantasize about being with you.  I masturbate thinking about you.  My desire for you is quite real.  Do not think for a moment that I am trying to repay you for your kindness.  That I can never repay.  I want you because I want you.”

“I am easily old enough to be your father, and then some,” I said.

“What of it?  Your age is a part of what attracts me to you.”

“I…”

“Shh,” Caleb said, placing his finger upon my lips and then rubbing his nose against mine.  He kissed me again and I surrendered to him.

***

“This has to be a first,” Caleb said as Alec pulled the Rolls into an In-N-Out Burger.

“In Hollywood?  I seriously doubt it.  Few even bother to turn their head to look at a Rolls.”

“I’ve wrenched my neck doing so,” Caleb said, making me laugh.

“You order first, Alec.  Get anything you like,” I said as I saw a waitress nearing his window.  I feared he’d send her immediately to the back.

Alec ordered, then Caleb and I did as well.

“You promised me these are the best burgers in L.A.  I hold you to that,” I said.

“If they aren’t, you can spank me,” Caleb said.

“I’m glad you said that in front of Alec and not Julia.”

“As much as I enjoy shocking her, I refrain as much as possible.”

“I’m sure it is hard to resist.”

Caleb told Alec about the day she walked into the studio while he was posing naked.  His description of her tomato-red face made Alec laugh.

“She never comes into the studio now unless she must.  You scarred her for life,” I said.

“Hey, I don’t look that bad naked.”

“You’re gorgeous and you know it, but that isn’t the point.”

“I’ve never understood why so many people are so uptight about nudity.”

“Most of us don’t look as good naked as you,” I said.

“We’re the only animals that wear clothing.  It’s ridiculous when you think of it.”

“You’re a California boy.  If you had grown up in Poland, as I did, there are times you would have wished for as much clothing as possible.”

“Does it get terribly cold there?”

“It can in the winter, yes.”

“Snow must be beautiful.”

“Yes, but it’s overrated.  I much prefer warmth.”

Our orders arrived.  I tried my burger.

“Well, I have to admit, I haven’t had a better burger in L.A., but don’t tell Julia,” I said.

“No spanking for me then.  Pity.”

I could see Alec smile to himself when I gazed at the rear-view mirror, but he said nothing.  Chauffeurs generally did not speak unless spoken too, but Alec knew he was free to speak and that I liked talking to him.  I think this was an area he didn’t want to comment on.

“You know, I never thought of coming to a drive-in.  You are filled with great ideas, Caleb.  You also make it possible for me to see things through new eyes.  When one grows old, one sometimes forgets the fun of outings such as these.”

“You aren’t old.”

“Compared to you, I am, but I’m content.  I had my time being young.  I think I made rather good use of it too and now I enjoy being older, especially because of you and our wonderful family at the house.  You’re very much a part of that Alec.”

“Thank, you Tadzio.  Life at the house is much better since you purchased it.”

“What was the previous owner like?” I asked.

“Officious, boring, arrogant, reserved and so formal he made Niles look like a surfer dude.”

Caleb and I cracked up at that.

“He sounds dreadful.  I had an easy act to follow.”

Caleb held my hand on the way home.  The boy truly cared about me.  Despite his protests, I’d feared he’d given himself to me out of a sense of debt, but that fear had dissipated.  It was mostly the little things; the way he gazed at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, the way he pushed back a stray hair on my forehead, the way he leaned into me when we were close together and the way he liked to touch me.  I did not understand his attraction to me, but I was forever grateful for it.

***

“Are you okay, Julia?” I asked as she entered the kitchen.

“I have to sit down.  I’ve just had the shock of my life!” she said and sank into a chair near me at the table.

“What is it?  You didn’t walk in on Caleb naked, did you?”

“It’s more shocking than that.”

“You have me intrigued.”

“I entered the studio and Nigel was posing for Caleb.  They were laughing.  Both of them!  Nigel was laughing!  I’ve never heard him laugh in my entire life!”

“Well, it’s certainly overdue then.  I’m glad Caleb is getting him to loosen up.  I haven’t met with much success.  He’s the only member of the staff who will not use my first name.”

“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen and heard it for myself!”

“I guess we’ve had our first miracle in the house.  Do you think you’ll be okay, Julia?”

“I’m beginning to get over the surprise.  I also need to start on supper.  I was able to get the catfish you wanted.”

“Wonderful.”

I headed for the studio after I finished my tea.  I was somewhat taken aback myself.  Nigel wasn’t laughing, but he was seated in a wingback chair wearing a dinner jacket.  He immediately stood when I entered.

“Can I do anything for you, sir?”

“Nigel!  You’ve ruined the pose, but I suppose we should stop anyway,” Caleb said.

“I’m sorry to interrupt.  It’s your day off Nigel.  I won’t allow you to do anything for me.  Relax.  It’s very kind of you to model for Caleb.”

“It is difficult to say no to him, sir.”

“That I know well.”

Caleb smiled.

“Can I see?” I asked.

Caleb gestured to the easel and I examined the painting in progress.  Most of the painting was only sketched in, except for Nigel and the chair from his hands up.

“This is wonderful,” I said.

“The hardest part is getting him to smile, even a little bit,” Caleb said.

“Oh, you should smile more often, Nigel, even if it’s only slightly as in the painting.  You look quite pleasant.”  I did not mention that I knew about him laughing.

“I am not accustomed to smiling.”

“You should get accustomed to it because it suits you.”

“I’ll get him there,” Caleb said.

“You might as well give in, Nigel.  Caleb generally gets what he wants.”

Caleb and I shared a smile just then.  I thought about him kissing me by the pool.

Nigel departed.  I told Caleb about Julia and her shock.  He laughed.  Neither he nor Nigel had seen her.  It was probably for the best.  I wasn’t sure Nigel could live with anyone knowing he laughed.

Caleb cleaned his brushes, then pulled me to him and kissed me.  It took me by surprise and I kissed him back until I realized what I was doing.  Caleb smiled at me mischievously and departed.

***

“How did it go?” I asked Caleb as he returned from his audition.  His twelfth if I had the count right.

“You always ask me that.”

“Yes, because I always want to know.”  I gazed at him.  He could not contain his grin or keep himself from bouncing on the balls of his feet.  “You got it, didn’t you?”

“Yes!” he said and sat down beside me on the couch.

“Congratulations.  What show is it again?”

“The Bert Rogers Show.”

“Oh yes.  Wonderful!  That is one of the most successful shows on television.”

“Yeah, I’m so excited!  I know it’s only a guest spot, but it’s a good part.”

“I am very happy for you.”  I tapped my finger on my lip.  “You know, I spotted Adam Bluestone with a handsome blond boy in the Brown Derby many months ago.  The blond is also on the show, but I don’t recall his name.  I believe he plays Curtis.”

“That’s Clifford McCoy.”

“Ah yes.”

“Wait, you saw them?  Did you perhaps speak to them and put in a word for me?” Caleb asked.

“I saw them, but I didn’t speak to them.   If you think I have worked behind the scenes to get you this part you are mistaken.”

“Just checking.  It’s like something you would do for me.”

“Well… yes, but I was still living at the Roosevelt when I spotted them.  I didn’t even know your name then, much less your desire to be an actor.  What you accomplished is all you.”

“I don’t know about that.  I’d still be living in abandoned buildings and temporarily unoccupied homes if it wasn’t for you.”

“You never know what you might have accomplished if you had never met me.”

“You have been kind and loving.  I would be nothing if not for you.”

“Rubbish,” I said.

“You know it’s true,” he said.

“I know nothing of the sort.  I have merely provided a bit of assistance.”

“You’ve done much more than that and you know it.”

“Oh, you’re impossible.”

“I have to memorize my lines,” he said.  “I’m playing a bully that Bud puts in his place.  Everyone who watches will hate me, at least at first.”

“I’m sure you will make an excellent bully.”

“Just what do you mean by that?” Caleb said, crossing his arms and flexing them.

“I mean, you are an excellent actor.”

“You’re biased.”

“Yes, but it’s still true.”

I walked into the kitchen, where Julia was preparing a salad to go with supper.

“How are you today, Julia?  I hope the crotchety old man who employs you isn’t giving you any trouble.”

“Oh no, I work for a handsome young man and he’s always kind.”

“I think you need to have your vision checked, Julia.  I am neither young, nor handsome, or are you referring to Caleb?”

“You are not young, but you are also not old and you are definitely the most beautiful man I have ever seen.”  I cocked my eyebrow slightly.  “I mean it!  Surely, you must know.  How could you not?”

I shrugged.  “I will admit I was beautiful when I was young.”

“Admit it or not, you are beautiful now.”

“Everyone is entitled to their opinion, although I think you are much mistaken.”

I poured myself a cup of tea and sat at the kitchen table.

“You look pleased and I don’t think it’s because of my compliments,” Julia said.

“Caleb finally landed a part.”

“How wonderful.”

“Yes, everything is wonderful with him.”

I sighed.  Julia gazed at me.

“If everything is so wonderful, why do you look troubled, Tadzio?”

“I fear things may go too far between Caleb and me. That is not my intention, but he is...”

“Hard to resist?”

“Yes.”

“He loves you.  I hope you know that.”

“I sense it.  I know he truly cares for me, but I do not want to take advantage.”

“You aren’t the type.”

“I don’t think you realize how far things could go between us.”

“Caleb and I have talks.  I know what he wants and that’s you.”

“He’s sixteen, Julia.  I am easily old enough to be his father.”

“So?  My father was fourteen years older than my mother.  They were very happy together.”

“I am forty years older than Caleb.  That would be scandalous if he was a girl.  It is scandalous.”

“Hollywood was built on scandal.  Life is short, Tadzio.  Enjoy it all you can, while you can.  That beautiful young man adores you.  He wants to be with you.  If you turn away from him out of a sense of guilt or some mistaken notion of moral decency, you will deny not only yourself something wonderful, but Caleb, too, and you will regret it for the rest of your life.”

“You’re very enlightened.  Most would consider me a monster.”

“Most people are fools.”

I laughed.

“I’ll tell you something else, if a young man who looked like that and was as nice as Caleb was interested in me, I wouldn’t think twice about being with him.”

“Is this the same woman who blushed and beat a hasty retreat when she walked in when Caleb was modeling for me nude?  The same that now avoids the studio?” I teased.

“Yes.  I was taken by surprise that day and if you must know, the sight brought thoughts to my mind that shouldn’t be there.”

I laughed.  “I think you have a double-standard, Julia.”

“Perhaps, but it is you he adores.”

“You are right about life being short at least.  There was another young man in my life long ago, a little younger than Caleb is now, but I was even younger at the time.  He died when he was fifteen.  I often think of all he missed out on and all we could have experienced together, even if we’d had just a little more time.  There was an older man, too.  He was the age I am now.  I’ve often wished that far more had happened between us, but our time ran out.”

“Time is always running out.  That’s why you should take what life has to offer.  Forget about what others think.  Trust your feelings, Tadzio.  I know from the way you look at each other that you belong together.”

I smiled.  “You know, if I get run out of town, you’ll end up with a new employer who you might not like so well.”

“Hollywood is filled with secrets and I’m sure if we knew those secrets, you’d find your relationship with Caleb tame in comparison.”

“That’s likely true.”

“So, take my advice.  You’ll be happier for it.”

“I think I shall take a stroll.  If anyone needs me, tell them I shall return soon,” I said.

Julia had given me much to think about.  I walked through the house and out the front door.  I could have taken a nice stroll even within the walls of the property, but I wanted to take a walk in the neighborhood while I thought my thoughts.

I walked first up the long oval drive, past the perfectly clipped lawn and then out through the open wrought iron gates.  I turned to the right and strolled up the wide sidewalk.

There were not many houses in sight.  The homes were fairly far apart here and most, like mine, were mostly hidden from view by walls.  Others were obscured by hedges or fences.  I would have preferred a neighborhood where I could more easily see my neighbors, but I needed quiet and solitude for my work.

I passed the open gate of my nearest neighbor to the west.  The home was much like mine, large, elegant and constructed of limestone.  The only curious feature was an ancient Model A truck parked in front.  It was so out of place I stopped and gazed at it for several moments.  It had been altered with the addition of a long flat truck bed in the back and a raised area, where a rocking chair sat.  It was a most curious vehicle, but it had character.

I walked on, considering Julia’s words.  I knew she was correct about life being short.  I counted myself lucky to make it this far.  I could have many long years yet or I might not live to make it back to the house.

My greatest fear was that I would harm or take advantage of Caleb.  I would not do so intentionally, but my concern was that I might do so without realizing it.  I could not allow that.

There was also the fact that I would harm him if I turned away from him.  I knew that he cared for me and there was no question what kind of relationship he wanted from me, but could I be both a father figure and lover?  The two generally did not go together, but I was not his father.  I was merely an older man who took care of him much as a father would.

I wanted him.  There was no question of that.  I daresay most who drew near him wanted him.  His beauty was irresistible.  I wanted many things I could not have, but Caleb I could have simply by not resisting him.  The question was whether or not it was the right thing to do.  I could not allow physical desire to cloud my wisdom.

A few cars passed as I took my walk, but not many.  I saw only gardeners outside when I could see any of the grounds or the homes at all.  Someday, if I retired from painting and writing, I would live in a place teeming with activity and people.  I had always enjoyed the company of others.  Perhaps I needed to get out more.

I was still undecided by the time I returned.  I walked into my studio and gazed at my paintings.  My Caleb as Antinous was nearly complete and I deemed it my best work yet.  Next, I thought I might paint him wearing the suit with gold buttons I’d had created for him.  Going from a nude to fully clothed would be quite a contrast, but I wanted to paint Caleb in many guises, while I could.

“Hey.”

I turned.  Caleb stood in the door.  He smiled at me as he approached.  He hugged me tightly for several long moments before releasing me, then grinned at me and moved to kiss me.  I stopped him.

“Let’s sit,” I said, guiding him to a couch.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You should be with someone more your age, Caleb.  Don’t you want to be with someone as attractive and active as yourself?  You can have anyone you desire.”

“I desire you.  Surely, you realize that.  Boys my age know nothing.  I’m not innocent, Tadzio.  I’m experienced and I know what I’m doing and what I want.  I’ve been with boys my age.  The sex is great, while it lasts, a few minutes at most and then there’s nothing.  With you there is already so much more.  We have wonderful conversations.  You teach me… so much.  You care for me and about me as no other has.  You love me.  I know you do.  You’re merely too afraid to say it because I am young.  Say it, Tadzio.  Tell me you love me.  You know you do.”

“I love you,” I said almost in a whisper.  Speaking the words was letting something out I feared I should never release.

“I love you, too.  At first, I thought you were merely another older man with fantasies about himself and a boy, but soon I realized that’s not what you were about.  I was sure you wanted me, but to you I am a work of art you admire.”

“Yes.  Exactly,” I said.

“You were drawn to my beauty.  It is immodest to say it, but it is true.  You gazed at me, you admired, but you never approached me.  Had you wanted only my body, you would have done so, but the days passed and you only observed, even when I flirted with you.  Then, when you discovered my plight, you took me in and still asked nothing of me.  You treated me like a son and I came to love you in the way a son does a father, but also in another way.  I know I am young, but I will be good to you.  I will be kind to you as you have been to me.  I share my life with you now.  I want to share everything.”

Caleb leaned in once more.  I leaned away from him, but he placed his hand over the back of my neck and pulled me to him.  He kissed me.

“Is kissing me so horrible?” Caleb asked.

“It is wonderful, but I should not kiss you.”

“You didn’t kiss me.  I kissed you.  I took what I wanted.  I’m tired of waiting for you to give me what I want, so I shall take it.”

Caleb grabbed my head and forcefully kissed me again, much more passionately than ever before.  He would not let me pull away until he was finished.

“Let’s stop pretending, shall we?  You know you want me and you know that I know.”

Caleb stood and gasped my hand.  I allowed him to pull me to my feet, toward the door and then upstairs to his room.

He closed the door and began kissing me.  He took control.  He undressed himself and me.  He kissed me, ran his hands over my body and rubbed himself against me.  He lowered himself to his knees and made me moan.

We explored each other.  Caleb was aggressive and voracious.  I allowed him to guide me and soon he was in me, taking me for his own.  Our moans and groans filled the room and I had never felt so fulfilled.

Caleb was the active partner, but even so he wore me out.  I lay on my back when we finished, trying to catch my breath.  He lay on his side and gazed at me.

“Do you like it, like this?” he asked.  “I wasn’t too aggressive for you, was I?”

“You were magnificent.  I very much like it like this.”

“Good,” he said and smiled mischievously.  “There is no turning back now.”

***

We entered Desilu Studios.  Since Caleb was under eighteen, he was required to have an on-site guardian and that was me.  Alec dropped us off at Soundstage 14 and then departed.

We entered through the small door to the right and soon heard the familiar voice of Bud Thomas, arguing with his sister, Karen.  At first, I feared we’d walked in during filming, but the red light over the door was not on when we entered.  It was soon apparent that the cameras were not rolling.

A young man approached us and smiled at my young companion, as the actors continued to argue.

“Are you ready, Caleb?” he asked.

“I can’t wait.”

“Mr. Moore, I’m so glad you can be here.  Don’t be surprised if our art director tries to corner you.  He’s a huge fan of your work.  We’re all very pleased you’re here.”

“Thank you and I will be delighted to talk to him.  I’ve always been interested in the art of film.”

“Caleb, I’ll take you to makeup.  Mr. Moore, make yourself at home.”

“Please call me Tadzio.”

He nodded.  Caleb looked back at me once when they departed and I winked.

I watched the two young actors as they practiced their scene.  I had met many famous people in my life, but it was still a bit of a thrill to see the stars of my favorite TV show, in fact one of the very few I bothered to watch, standing only a few feet away.  Adam Bluestone, who played Bud, was Caleb’s age.  He was extremely handsome and while not as muscular as Caleb, he was quite fit.  He looked even more attractive now than he had when I spotted him in The Brown Derby.

I had never been inside a soundstage during filming before and I found it fascinating.  I was a devotee of The Bert Rogers Show and it was surreal to stand so near the sets.  I had assumed that the sets for the living room, kitchen, dining room, Bud’s bedroom and all the others would be lined up in a row so there would be plenty of room for the cameras, but instead the ground floor of the Thomas home was laid out exactly like a real home.  The second floor sat beside it and was the same.

No one interrupted me as I walked around and gazed at the sets, the cameras and the lights above.  This was a whole other world.  It amazed me that these people could create a TV program that seemed so real.  They were artists—all of them.

“Quiet on the set everyone!  Roll cameras and action!”

I stood still so as not to make a sound and watched as Karen Thomas stomped toward her brother carrying an automobile manifold.

“What is this still doing in the dining room?  I told you the girls from the Aurora Club are coming over and I’ll never get in if this is on the table!” she said loudly, shoving it into his chest.

“And, I told you I’d put it away before they got here!”

“That was fifteen minutes ago!”

“Yeah, and they won’t be here for another half hour!”

I had to control my desire to laugh as the two squared off, mere inches from each other, arguing only as a brother and sister could.  I watched the remainder of the scene with rapt attention.

A man in his 40’s approached me soon after the scene ended.

“Mr. Moore.  I am very pleased to meet you.  I’m Gavin McClain the art director and set decorator.  I am a huge fan of your work.  I was able to visit the Met last year and viewed some of your paintings.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Gavin.  Please call me Tadzio.  I’m very intrigued with your work here.  I’m amazed you can make all this look so real.”

“Would you like a closer look?”

“I would love it.”

“I’m especially proud of Bud’s bedroom.  They’ll be filming on the school hallway set next, so we won’t be in the way.”

“Wonderful.  I regularly watch your show.  I know it’s a TV program, but while I’m watching it, I feel as if it’s real.”

“That’s a wonderful compliment, coming from you.”

“I’m quite fascinated by all this.  It is a new world to me.”

Gavin led me onto the bedroom set and we stood in the middle.

“It looks so real.  I’ve seen this bedroom on TV many times, but there are details I haven’t noticed before and perhaps could not have noticed.  Like these photos on Bud’s dresser.  I’ve seen them, but could never tell who was in them.  They’re photos of his school friends.”

“You have a good eye.  Most of the details of the room are here for the viewers, but some are here for Adam, so I couldn’t place just anyone’s photo in the picture frames.  Look over here,” he said, directing me to the door frame of Bud’s closet.

I peered closely.  “This is a record of Bud’s height,” I said.

“Yes.  A boy his age would likely be concerned with his height.  There is similar group of markings on a doorframe in the kitchen with the heights of Bud and his sisters, but here Bud checks his height monthly instead of annually.  I have Adam stand here once a month so I can measure him.  Little details like this make the room real for him and that makes it easier for him to act.”

“I’m impressed.  This is a nice piece of artwork over here,” I said moving toward a small painting of a baseball player sliding into home base.

“That’s one of mine.”

“I like it very much.  It’s so alive with activity it almost seems as if its moving.  This is Bud making a run, isn’t it?”

“You honor me with your praise.  Yes, that is Bud.  That’s his number on his jersey.”

“Simply wonderful,” I said.  “I don’t mean only the painting, but everything.  There is such attention to detail.  Most don’t realize the importance of that.  I’m not at all surprised you’re an artist.  The color choices alone would tell me that.  This is very much a teen boy’s bedroom and yet the colors perfectly complement each other.  It makes the set pleasing to the eye.”

“Thank you.  Few see it in color, but even in grays the tones are important, as you well know.  I love my work.”

“I can tell,” I said, turning and smiling at him.

We walked back out into the soundstage where I spotted Caleb on the school hallway set.  The crew busily adjusted lights and cameras.

“He’s extremely handsome,” Gavin said, looking at Caleb.  “Is he your son?”

“No, but he lives with me.  I’m his guardian,” I said, smiling.  “He models for me frequently.”

“I’m not surprised he’s an actor.  He has the looks for it.”

“Yes, he certainly does.  He’s very interested in acting, but this is his first job.  I’m very proud of him.”

We watched the run-through, where Caleb lumbered up to Bud in the nearly empty hallway, glared down at him and delivered his lines while poking Bud in the chest.  They scuffled and soon Bud had Caleb’s arm twisted behind his back.

This was the first time I was certain that Caleb had talent.  He didn’t seem like himself as he closed in on Bud.  His movements were heavy and his thought processes, as shown by his expressions, were slow.  His beauty was dulled and darkened by his unpleasant demeanor.  It was an amazing transformation.

The actors returned to their starting places, the director called for quiet and then, “Action!”

Caleb, or rather Jake, which was his character’s name, lumbered up to Bud again.

“I thought I told you to clear out of my hallway as soon as the bell rang,” he said, poking him in the chest.  “You don’t have my permission to be here after school.”

“It’s a free country,” Bud said, brushing his hand away.

“Are you getting smart with me?  That’s not a wise move, Bud.”

“Maybe I’m not smart then, Jake, but I’m still way smarter than you.”

Caleb growled, grabbed Bud, and the two boys began to struggle.  At first it looked like Bud was doomed, but then he grabbed Caleb’s wrist and twisted his arm behind his back.

“I’m going to walk where I want to walk.  You got that, Jake?  Do you?” he asked, twisting Caleb’s arm a little, causing Caleb to grunt.

“Get off me or you’re dead!”

“I don’t think so.  I can do this every time, Jake.  You’re stronger, but I’m smarter and faster.  So, are you going to lay off?  Are you?”

Caleb grimaced.  “Okay!  Okay!”

Bud released him and stepped back, warily watching for an attack, which didn’t come.  Instead, Caleb glared and rubbed his shoulder, but there was a touch of fear and respect in his eyes.

“Cut!  That was perfect!  Wonderful job boys!”

I couldn’t have agreed more.

Caleb had a few more scenes to film and I watched each with fascination and pride.  His wasn’t a big part in the episode, but it was significant.  I hoped his appearance on one of the most, if not the most, popular show on TV would lead to bigger things for him.  I wanted him to succeed, even though I knew success would probably take him away from me.  I loved him and love is never selfish.

“Tadzio,” Caleb called out as he walked toward me.  Production was shutting down for the day, hours after we’d arrived in the early afternoon.

I smiled as my boy walked toward me, with Adam Bluestone and Clifford McCoy at his side.

“Adam, Cliff, this is Tadzio.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you both.  I am a fan.”

They both beamed, Adam especially.

“We’re huge admirers of your work, Mr. Moore,” Adam said.

“Tadzio, please.  I’m surprised boys your age pay attention to art, although perhaps I shouldn’t say that.  It sounds as if I’m insulting your intelligence or taste and I mean to do neither.”

“I love your landscapes and your portraits.  Caleb said he’s posed for you.  I’m so jealous,” Adam said.

Caleb is the perfect model.  Not only is he beautiful, but he has great stamina for holding a pose.”

“Except when I get an itch,” Caleb said.

“I know this is presumptuous and I don’t know if I can afford it, but I’d be thrilled to hire you to paint a portrait of my brother and me.  I’d love to give it to my mother,” Adam said.

“Hmm,” I said, gazing at him.  I stepped closer, took Adam’s chin in my hand and turned his head to a couple of different angles.  “You have wonderful features.  I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Seriously?  That would be… a dream come true.”

“We’ll be here tomorrow as well.  Correct?” I asked, looking to Caleb.

“Yes, and perhaps the day after.”

“We can talk more about it.  I think the main difficulty will be working around your schedule.  I’m sure you are quite busy.”

“Yeah, I get here early and stay late, but I often have free time on weekends.”

“We’ll work with that then.  Here’s my number,” I said, writing it out for him.

“Thank you, it’s so wonderful to meet you and I can’t wait to pose for you.  Now, I need to get this makeup off my face.  I can’t stand it.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I report to makeup and wardrobe,” Caleb said.

“No hurry.”

I watched them all depart.  I smiled at Adam’s enthusiasm.  He was so excited he’d dominated the conversation and didn’t let poor Cliff speak.  I was sure I would have a chance to speak with Cliff later.

It was several minutes before Caleb returned, but I used the time well.  I spoke more with the art director, as well as camera men, grips and assistants.  I found the whole process of film production fascinating.  It was such a contrast to my own life.

“What did you think?” Caleb asked when he returned.

“What is important is what you think, but, in my opinion, you did an excellent job.  You actually seemed like a bully.  You were quite dislikable, which means you succeeded, but I also detected a trace of vulnerability.”

“That’s what I was going for.  My character isn’t a nice guy and viewers won’t like him, but he’s a bully because he’s insecure.  I made up a backstory for him.”

“It shows.  Ready to go home?  I called Alec; he should arrive soon if he has not already.”

“I’m ready.”

“How does it feel to be a TV star?”

Caleb laughed.  “I’ll let you know if I ever become one.  I have a minor part in one episode.”

“That’s far more than I’ve ever done.”

“Yeah, but you’re not an actor.”

“A minor detail, my boy.”

Caleb grinned, then hugged me for a moment.

“This wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for you.”

“I had nothing to do with it.  This is all you,” I said.

“You got me an agent.  That’s a huge deal.”

“You would have found one for yourself sooner or later.  I merely sped up the process.”

“Without you, I’d be homeless.  I would never have had the confidence to audition and I would have shown up in grubby clothing.”

“You underestimate yourself.”

“No, you underestimate all you’ve done for me.”

“Did you have fun today?” I asked.

“How can you ask?  Today was amazing!  There was a lot of waiting around, but even then, I was surrounded by all this,” Caleb said, just before we exited the soundstage.

“I found it quite exciting myself.”

“I can’t believe I was able to hang out with Adam Bluestone.  He’s incredibly nice.”

“You can hang out with him more when I paint his portrait.”

“I can’t wait!”

We returned to Desilu the next day, which was much the same as the first, but no less fascinating.  Gavin and I were able to talk a great deal and I invited him to the house to see my work.  I was able to speak with Bert Rogers and Eileen Taylor more than the day before.  I remembered Bert even from his days in radio.  Both he and Eileen were stars before they entered television.  I enjoyed living in Hollywood and being around the entertainment industry.

Caleb was sad when we departed after his second and final day, but his agent already had auditions lined up for him.  I was confident he’d find more acting work after this episode aired.

Caleb surprised me that night by coming into my room after we’d turned in.  He stood by the side of my bed wearing only his boxers.

“Can I sleep with you?” he asked.

“Of course, is something wrong?”

“No, I just want to sleep with you.”

“Climb in,” I said smiling.

I thought he might initiate sexual activity.  He was, after all, a teen boy, but he did not.  Instead, he snugged up against me so that his back was pressed against my chest.  I wrapped my arm around him and we fell asleep.  He slept with me every night thereafter.

Chapter Fourteen

Calliope music played in the background as Caleb and I sat on a bench near the carousel in Griffith Park.  We both needed an outing to get away from the house for a few hours and I had never been to the park.  Caleb had given me a wonderful tour.

“Hello, Caleb.  I’ve been looking for you.”

I looked up to see a middle-aged man with a wolfish expression gazing down at Caleb, who ignored him.

“I’m talking to you.  Where have you been?”

“Leave me alone.”

“What’s wrong, boy?  I was one of your best customers.”

I was confused.  Caleb was clearly becoming agitated.

“Go away.”

“Come on.  I have the cash if you have the time.”

“I don’t do that anymore!” he shouted, standing and shoving the man away.  “Leave me alone!”

Several of those near stared in our direction.  The stranger now looked frightened, as well he might.  Caleb’s physique was intimidating.

The man scurried away.  Caleb walked in the other direction.

“Caleb?  Caleb, please wait,” I said.

He kept walking for several more paces, as I tried to catch up, but then he stopped.  I could see his shoulders heaving.  I reached him and walked around in front of him.  He looked at me with tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Caleb, I don’t understand.  What’s wrong?”

Caleb bowed his head and cried harder.  I pulled him to me and held him as he sobbed.  I stood holding him for a good long time until his sobs quieted and then stopped.

“I guess you won’t want me around anymore now.”

“You’re talking nonsense.  Of course, I want you around.”

“Don’t you get it?”

“I’m afraid I do not.”

“How do you think I got by when I was homeless?”

“I never actually thought about it.  When you moved in with me it no longer mattered.”

“I sold my body to guys like the one who was just here.  Not all the time, but sometimes.  So, now you know.”

“I’m very sorry you had to do that, Caleb.”

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

“It bothers me that you had to do something you didn’t want to do, otherwise, no.”

“Please don’t make me go away,” Caleb said and began to cry again.  I held him once more.

“What is all this going away talk?  I would never do that.  I don’t want you to go away.  I love you.”

Caleb looked up and gazed into my eyes.

“I love you too.  I was afraid…”

“All of us have a past, Caleb.  We’ve all done things we wish we hadn’t.  What you did before we came together is immaterial.  You have nothing to fear.  I am completely gone over you, as I believe they say now.”

Caleb laughed and smiled.  “I really do love you.  I’m not just saying that so you’ll keep me around.”

“I know you do, Caleb.  You show me with your actions, your kindness and the love in your eyes.  I think you can tell I love you too, even without words.”

He nodded.  We would have kissed, but others were too near.

“I will tell you something else, Caleb.  When I was young, I sold myself to men, too.  My father died when I was very young and when the Nazi’s invaded Poland, my mother, sisters and our governess had to flee.  There were times we had nothing to eat and so I sold myself to provide for them.  I did not want to do it and yet it wasn’t entirely unenjoyable.  I am not at all sorry I did it.  I did what I had to do, just as you did.”

“I never imaged you had ever done such a thing.  You’re so wealthy.”

I laughed.  “I was born wealthy, but when the war came, we lost everything except what we could carry.  We struggled and sometimes starved.  It was a long time before I was wealthy again.”

“I guess I think of things as if they have always been as they are now.”

“The young often do.  The old know better.  So, no more of this leaving talk.  You will always have a home with me, Caleb.  Always.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you for bringing joy into my life.  Now, what next?  I feel like ice cream.  Do you?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“This does create a problem.”

“What does?”

“Ice cream.  Now, we have to pick a flavor.”

Caleb smiled again.  I loved to see him smile.

***

I reached the foot of the stairs as Niles opened the front door.  In stepped Adam Bluestone, along with another version of him.

“Wow.  This is some house,” he said looking around.

“You don’t live in something similar?” I asked.

“No,” he said, grinning.  “I live in an ordinary home.  My mom would throw a fit if I bought something like this.  This is my brother, Monte.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Monte.”

“Niles, can you bring some refreshments to my studio and if you find Caleb around somewhere, inform him that Adam has arrived.”

“I’m here,” Caleb said, hurrying into the foyer.  “I lost track of the time.  Hey, Adam.”

“Hey, Caleb.  I’d like you to meet my brother, Monte.”

“Hey,” Caleb said, as he attempted to smooth his wet hair.  He’d obviously just exited the pool.

“Hey.”

“I’m glad you’ve arrived, Caleb.  I thought you might like to join us.”

“I’ll change and be right down.”

Caleb bounded up the stairs, taking two at a time.

“Shall we?” I asked.

Adam and his brother nodded.  I led them into my workspace.

“This is an amazing studio,” Adam said as he peered around the large room with its bank of windows.

“It’s the reason I purchased the house. Natural light is extremely important.”

“Your work is extraordinary.  I’ve long been a fan.”

“I can say the same to you.”

Adam smiled.  He was an incredibly attractive boy.  His younger brother possessed his own beauty.  I would have no trouble creating a wonderful portrait of them.

“Gosh, these paintings of Caleb are amazing,” Adam said as he looked at my paintings of Caleb peering around the trunk of a tree, Caleb as Antinous and others.  “He’s so lucky to be able to model for you.”

“No.  I’m lucky to have him as a model.  His beauty is extraordinary.”

“That’s certainly true.”

“I think ours should be nude like this one,” Monte said, grinning.

“Yeah?  You want to give that to Mom?” Adam asked.

“Maybe not.”

“Definitely not.”

“I’ve brought a selection of sodas and iced tea, as well as snacks, sir,” Niles said.

“Thank you.”

“Will there be anything else, sir?”

“No, that is all.”

“It must be nice to have a butler,” Monte said.

“Yes, but I can’t get him to stop calling me, ‘sir.’  He has loosened up a fair amount, but he still refuses to call me by my first name.  I’ve never been one for formality.”

“I’m here,” Caleb said, rushing into the room.  He was now dressed much like Adam and his brother in shorts and a button-down shirt.

“Great, help yourselves and then we’ll discuss your portrait,” I said.

I sat on a love seat.  Caleb joined me.  Adam and his brother sat in chairs across from us.

“So, what did you have in mind?” I asked.

“You’re the artist, so I’m sure you know best.”

“Well, we’ve already eliminated a nude as a possibility,” I said, earning me a strange look from Caleb.  Let’s see.  I think I’d like to do a fairly large canvas, but not so large as to not fit in an average home.  How well do the two of you get along?”

“Well, Monte is a bit of a brat and he’s annoying,” Adam said with a grin.

“Ha!  He’s the annoying one!” Monte said.

“I hate to say this when he can hear it, but he’s also a great little brother.”

“Well, if we’re admitting things, Adam is the most as an older brother.  He’s never picked on me and despite saying I’m annoying, I know he loves me.”

“That gives me an idea.  Stand up and face each other please.”  The boys did so.  “Now, Adam cross your arms and gaze at Monte as if he’s just done something annoying, but something that also amuses you.  Yes.  That’s a perfect expression.  Monte, give a mischievous unrepentant look.”

“Unre…”

“It means you’ve done something and you’re not sorry.”

“Oh!”

“Now, add a touch of your feelings for Adam.  Let your love for him show a bit.  A little more.  That’s it.  Hold that pose for a few moments.”

I picked up a pad and did a quick sketch of the brothers.  Yes, this would work nicely.

“Okay.  I want you both to try to remember how you’re feeling now and your expressions.  You may have a seat.  Do you think that pose will work?”

“It’s perfect.  That’s very us,” Adam said.

“Yes, although perhaps it would be better if I was standing in front of Adam with my arms spread,” Monte said.

“He likes attention,” Adam said with a grin.

“You’re lucky to have a little brother,” Caleb said.

“I would offer him to you, but I’ve tried to give him away countless times and have found no takers,” Adam said.

Monte crossed his arms and pretended to pout.

“Actually, I kind of like him,” Adam said, putting his arm over Monte’s shoulders.

Monte leaned into him.  “Adam’s not completely horrible either.”

Caleb and I glanced at each other.  I reached out and smoothed back a stray lock of his hair.  When I turned back Adam was watching us.  I had a feeling he sensed there was something intimate between Caleb and me.

“I’m going to do a few sketches while we talk,” I said, picking up my pad again.  “Doing a few studies will help me when I begin painting.  You don’t have to pose, just be natural,” I said.

“You did a great job on the show,” Adam said to Caleb.  “You’re a wonderful actor.  From the short time we’ve spent together, I know you’re far from a bully.”

“Before I met Tadzio, I often needed a tough guy persona so guys wouldn’t hassle me.  It’s not a big leap from tough guy to bully.”

“How did you meet, if that’s not being too nosey?”

Caleb looked at me.  I nodded and he proceeded to tell Adam how we met.  He left out the physical attraction, but I was quite sure Adam picked up on it regardless.

I sketched while they talked. Adam and Monte both had great features.

By the time the boys departed, I’d made several good studies.  I’d concentrated mostly on their facial expressions and their hands.  The latter was particularly difficult to make look natural.  I selected a large canvas of about 4’ by 3’.  I would need the size for the nearly full-body pose I had in mind.

***

“Quiet everyone, it’s nearly time,” I said.

The entire staff, Caleb and I were gathered around the television.  Caleb’s episode of The Bert Rogers Show was about to air.

The program itself was my favorite and I was delighted to have a personal relationship with Adam.  I’d met many famous people, but didn’t have much of a connection to them.  I had a connection to Adam.  I’d already learned he was very much like his character.

The show began.  Caleb didn’t appear immediately, of course, but we all clapped when he materialized on the screen, making him blush as he sat by my side.

I was completely mesmerized by the program and I was so proud of Caleb I was about to burst.  When the show ended, we all clapped again.

“I might be a bit biased, but I think Caleb is an amazingly talented actor.”

“You’re biased,” Caleb said.

“He is right.  You are amazingly talented,” Julia said.

The rest of the staff agreed and I was quite sure their words were sincere.  They all knew they were quite free to voice their opinions.  We were an informal household, with the exception of Niles.  I doubted I’d ever get him to stop calling me sir.

“I do have an announcement.  I’ve been dying to tell all day.  I have another guest spot.  This time on Dragnet,” Caleb said.

“Is that the phone call you received this morning?  You said that was your agent telling you that you have another audition for I Love Lucy,” I accused.

“I didn’t lie.  He did call to say I have an audition for I Love Lucy.  He also told me I landed the role on Dragnet.  I wanted to wait and tell everyone at once.”

Everyone congratulated Caleb.  Our household was quickly becoming a family.

“I’m so happy for you,” I said, echoing Julia’s words after everyone had gone.

“Thanks.  I’m pretty happy for me too!  This makes two acting jobs!”

“You are on your way, Caleb.”

That Saturday, I began to paint Adam and his brother.  At first, it was a bit odd seeing Adam, because only days before I’d watched him as Bud Thomas.  In Hollywood, fantasy and reality mixed freely.

We had discussed wardrobe and I’d stressed the importance of color.  Each of the boys brought along three outfits.  For Adam, we chose slacks and a white button-down shirt with an open mint-green sweater.  For Monte, we picked dungarees and a white shirt with a collar with a bold green stripe that complimented the mint-green of Adam’s sweater.

The boys took up their poses.  I quickly sketched and then, since I’d worked out everything I could in advance, mixed my colors and began to paint.

Their poses were easy to hold, but I knew any pose soon became monotonous.  I didn’t keep them at it for too long before we took a break, but then we were right back to work.

Mahler played in the background while I worked.  I enjoyed all types of music, but I had a special fondness for Mahler’s Adagietto from Symphony Number Five.  I often played music while I worked.  I needed quiet, but not silence.

The afternoon passed quickly.  Caleb was often in the room, chatting with the boys when they could talk and watching me work.  I enjoyed the company of the boys.  I liked to be near youth.  There was something so alive in the young.

“Okay, I believe that is enough for today,” I finally announced.

We had made good progress and it was best not to allow a session to go on too long.  Models tended to loosen up their pose if required to hold it too long, even with breaks in between.  My fingers also became less nimble.  Working too much was not a good thing.

“Did you guys bring your suits?” Caleb asked.

“Yes,” they both answered.

“I’ll run up and change.”

Adam and Monte changed in the studio, behind the large screen set up for that purpose.  Soon, they stepped out, clad only in their swimsuits.  Adam’s was a bold flowered design in blue and white.  Monte’s was an even bolder Hawaiian design in oranges.

Both boys had smooth, well-formed bodies.  I was surprised by Monte’s definition and musculature.  I had no doubt he would be even fitter than his brother in the future.

The boys bid me, ‘goodbye.’  I planned to sit by the pool later, but now I examined my work and cleaned my brushes.  It was in the earliest stage, but I was quite pleased by how the painting was turning out.

I moved out to the pool nearly an hour later and took up my place in my preferred lounge.  The boys swam and played in the pool.  Caleb was beautiful as always.  Adam and Monte were both attractive boys, but neither had quite the beauty of my Caleb.  I was biased.  There was no avoiding that, but even before I came to care for him, I recognized in Caleb that rare essence of beauty that only one boy in 100,000 possessed.  I’d possessed it myself in my own youth and counted myself lucky.  That beauty was long gone now.  I still had it in some measure, I supposed, but the old could never be as beautiful as the young.  Beauty was ethereal, like sparkling dew on a summer’s morning or the last golden glow of sunset.  It graced us with its presence for only a short time and was all the more precious because of it.

I was as lucky now as I was in my youth.  I had possessed beauty then, and now I was surrounded by it.  I thought, perhaps, that being surrounded by beauty was the better of the two because beauty cannot see itself, or if it does view itself, is often destroyed by the vision.

I wondered what Caleb saw in me.  I was mesmerized by my own life.  I lost myself in my art.  I took pleasure in all that was enjoyable, but these things could not be seen from the outside, could they?  I daresay Caleb could have anyone he wanted.  Why he chose me was a mystery.

Some would have said he was using me.  They would have said that he was with me only because I paid his way.  Others would say I was using him and that I was taking advantage of him.  All of these were wrong.  Caleb was not using me.  All that I gave him, I gave because I wished to do so.  I derived pleasure from the giving.  What Caleb gave me, he did because he wished to do so.  He knew he could remain here and have all he possessed without so much as allowing me to touch him.  I knew he desired me.  I did not understand it, but his eyes and passion did not lie.

I had analyzed it all far too long.  What others thought did not matter.  What was between Caleb and me was only between the two of us.  We trusted each other because we could be trusted.

I liked the sound of the boys playing in the pool.  Caleb brought life to this place.  Without him it would have been too quiet, but with him there was activity, coming and going, and he gave me a reason to get out myself.  There was so much to show him, so much to share with him.  I knew my time with him was limited and I wanted to teach him how to enjoy life while I could.

The afternoon lazily slipped away.  When Niles came out to see if I needed anything, I asked him to make lemonade and to bring towels for the boys.  I rather liked having a butler.  The staff freed me from all those everyday tasks that would otherwise have kept me from my work.  True, I was not working now, but that was another advantage.  Having staff allowed me free time as well.  I appreciated each member of the staff and thought of them as family.  Perhaps more importantly, I let them know it.

The boys climbed out of the pool soon after I began drinking lemonade.  They grabbed the towels Niles had left for them and dried while water cascaded off their young bodies.

“This is some place you have, Tadzio.  Your pool is amazing,” Adam said.

“I daresay you could afford one like it,” I said.

“I don’t know about that and like I said before, my mom would have a fit if I purchased anything so grand.”

“She sounds like a wise woman.  To be honest, I’d prefer something smaller, but the confounded real estate agent reeled me in with that studio.”

Adam laughed.

“Please have some lemonade everyone,” I said.

“Thanks!  Can we swim next time?” Monte asked.

“Monte…” Adam said.

“You can come swim any time you want.  Whether you are modeling for your portrait or just coming for a visit,” I said.

Monte smiled.

I couldn’t fail to notice Adam’s body as he stood so near me in his clinging swimsuit.  His torso and abdomen were beautifully shaped.  His features possessed a pleasing symmetry.  His green eyes were especially enchanting and were a lovely complement to his chocolate brown hair.  The front of his suit was well-filled and his buttocks were beautifully shaped.  He would be an incredible nude model, although I had no intention of asking.

“We are due home for supper soon.  Same time next week?” Adam asked.

“That will be wonderful,” I said.

“Thank you for letting us use the pool.”

“Anytime.  That’s why it’s here.”

“Yeah, thanks!” Monte said.  “Bye!”

“I’ll be back,” Caleb said and departed with the boys to see them back to the studio so they could change.

Caleb returned soon and sat down in a chair beside me.

“That was fun.  I sure never thought I’d be hanging out with Adam Bluestone.  You know, he’s really nice.  He’s a big star, but he doesn’t act like it.  He reminds me of you.”

“Of me?  In what way?”

“You’re rich and famous, but don’t let on that you are.  Yeah, you live in a mansion and are chauffeured around in a Rolls, but you’re nice to everyone and you obviously don’t think you’re hot stuff.”

“I ceased being hot stuff long ago.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I believe no one is better than anyone else.”

“Yeah, I know that without you saying it.  I know from the way you treat everyone.”

“I think how one treats others is one of, if not the, most important thing in life.”

“Me too!  Speaking of hot stuff.  Did you notice Adam?”

“What do you think?” I asked.

Caleb laughed.

“He’s so hot!  I got a look at him naked in the study.  Damn!”

“Lucky you,” I said with a grin.

“Not that I’d… I mean… we’re together so…”

“Caleb, I will not be hurt if you pursue a physical relationship with another.  I will not be jealous either.  I’ve always thought the idea of monogamy is ridiculous.  It’s unnatural.  If you have sex with someone else, it will not affect what we have.”

“I like that, not that I plan to get with anyone else, but I think you’re right.”

“Adam would make a good match for you.”

“I think his boyfriend would disagree.  You know he’s with Clifford McCoy, right?”

“Actually, no, although I did detect something between them on the set.”

“It’s no secret at the studio.  Apparently, there are many like us in the entertainment industry.”

“So, I have heard.”

“Anyway, he looks good in that swimsuit.”

“Yes, he does, but you look better.”

Caleb grinned.  He leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

Chapter Fifteen

Ten Years Later—1964

“I’m home, Tadzio!” Caleb called out.

I hurried into the foyer.  Caleb nearly crushed me in a bear hug.  He was twenty-six now and more muscular than ever.

“I have missed you so much.  No more location work for me.  I hate being away from home and away from you!”

“How was England?” I asked.

“Dreary, for the most part.  I love England, but that weather, ugh!”

“Where is he?” Julia nearly shouted, racing into the foyer.

She gave Caleb a hug, nearly as hard as the one he had given me.

“Oh, I’m so happy my boy is home.  Wait until you see what I’m making for supper.  Have you lost weight?  It was the English food, wasn’t it?  Dreadful, I hear.”

“It wasn’t the best, but then nothing is good compared to your cooking.”

“I’m so glad you’ve returned.  Maybe now Tadzio will quit moping.”

“I do not mope.  I’m merely pensive,” I said.

He mopes, Julia mouthed.

“I saw that,” I said.

“Good.  It will be so nice to have you home again, Caleb.”

“I’ve only been gone three months.”

“Which was far too long.”

“I agree,” I said.

“Well, I must get back to the kitchen, but I had to see you.”

“Tea, Caleb?” Niles said, as he entered.  It had taken years, but Niles had finally come around to calling first Caleb, and then me, by our first names.

“Oh, yes, please!  I became quite addicted to it in England.  Can we have it in the studio?  I so miss being among your paintings, Tadzio.  I can’t wait to get back to painting myself.  It is so wonderful to see you again Niles,” Caleb said and then hugged him.

The old Niles would have stiffened and been aghast at the display of emotion, but the mellowed Niles hugged Caleb back.

“I have missed you a great deal, too.  I will prepare the tea.”

“What’s this about giving up location work?” I asked, as Caleb and I made our way into the studio.

Caleb didn’t answer me.  Instead, he pulled me to him and kissed me passionately.

“I have so missed that!” he said.

“Me too,” I said, gazing into his eyes while I ran the fingers of my right hand through his blond wavy curls.

Caleb had been a beautiful boy, but he was now an even more beautiful young man.  He led me to a sofa where we sat.

“I’m giving up film entirely.  I’m doing nothing but live theatre from now on.”

“I thought you loved making films.”

“I love acting and doing films was exciting, but I’m tired of living in hotels.  I was put up in a wonderful bed & breakfast for this latest movie, but even that wasn’t home.  I’m also getting typecast.  If I have to be in one more Jane Austen type film, I’ll scream.”

“That’s what happens when you’re a handsome, charming actor.  It’s as if you were made for those roles.”

“No more.  I want to live here, with you, and do real acting on a stage in front of an audience.”

“I doubt you’ll have trouble finding roles, but are you sure you want to walk away from film now that you’re so successful?  It took you a long time to get there, remember?”

“Yes, and it was a wonderful journey, but now I want to turn my attention to my true love in the acting world—theatre.  I’ve never enjoyed anything like I did those two plays I was in before I landed my first big part in a film.  I don’t care if I have to buy my own theatre, I’m going to act on stage from now on.”

“You should do what makes you happy.  That’s all I ever wanted for you.”

“I know, dear sweet Tadzio.”

We chatted away for a few minutes until we were interrupted.

“Your tea,” Niles said, entering with a tea pot and two china cups and saucers decorated with pink peonies on a silver tray.

“Thank you, Niles,” Caleb said before I could.

Niles left us alone to continue our talk.

“I shall be glad to have you home.  I’ll be honest, I’m very pleased with your decision.  It’s something I would have wished for myself, if I was selfish enough.”

“It is impossible for you to be selfish, Tadzio.”

“What do you see in me, Caleb?  I was old when we met and now, I’m older still.  You are a living work of art.  You can have anyone you want.”

“I can and I do.  You have always underestimated your own beauty.”  I started to interrupt, but Caleb didn’t allow it.  “Yes, I know you’re aware you were a beautiful boy, Tadzio, but somewhere through the years you lost the ability to see your own beauty.  I can see it.  I’ve always been able to see it.  You are so handsome and you’ve always been so good to me.  You’ve done so much for me and with no thought of anything in return.”

“I’ve received much in return.”

“Yes, but what you’ve received is freely and gladly given.  You are my boyfriend, Tadzio, my partner in life and you’ve also been a father to me.  I couldn’t have asked for more.  You are exactly what I wanted and needed.  Your one failing is that you always underestimate your worth.”

“I suppose it just seems too impossible to believe that such a beautiful boy… young man, could love me.”

“Believe it because I do.”

Caleb kissed me, then sat back and smiled.

“Very well, I surrender.”

“You always do,” Caleb said mischievously.

“Now, tell me about England.”

Caleb did so as we sipped our tea.  I had been there myself, but I loved to see and experience things through Caleb.  He made the familiar new.

***

I awakened tired the next morning, but I smiled when I remembered why.  Caleb had been ravenous.  I turned, but his pillow was empty.  It had been four months, but now there was a depression where his head had been.  I arose and prepared myself for my day.

Caleb was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast when I entered.

“Have a seat, Tadzio.  I’ll have yours ready in no time at all.”

“Thank you, Julia.  You’re up early, Caleb.”

“No, I got up late, London time.  It will take me a bit to adjust.  It’s well past noon there.”

“True.  I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I’ve been up for quite some time and have only now stopped for breakfast.  I called an old friend of ours, Adam Bluestone.”

“He does theatre in between films, doesn’t he?” I said.

“Yes, and he owns a part interest in one.  We are going later to check it out.”

“Are we?” I asked, amused.

“Yes, we are, so I hope you don’t have anything planned.”

“What I had planned can wait.  Paintings are patient things.”

“Who is that?” Caleb said, gazing out the window.  I stood and walked around to see who he was talking about.

“That’s the new pool boy.  Theo moved to New York.”

“Wow, he’s really something.”

“He’s quite good looking.  He models for me as well.”

“Have you replaced me, Tadzio?  Are you cheating on me?” Caleb asked with an impish grin.

“No one could ever replace you, but he’s an excellent model.  As for cheating on you, I don’t think his girlfriend would appreciate that.”

“She’s such a sweet girl,” Julia said.

“You’ve met her?”

“Oh yes.”

“I told Todd he could use the pool.  His girl comes with him sometimes and swims with him, or while he models.”

“I suppose I believe you, but he looks hard to resist.”

“Stop teasing me.”

“You know I like to have fun.”

“I’m well aware.”

“I guess things will liven up around here now you’re back, Caleb,” Julia said as she placed a plate of cinnamon toast in front of me.

“Are you saying watching me paint or write isn’t exciting?” I asked with mock indignation.

“It’s like watching paint or ink dry.”

I laughed.  “I fear my pursuits aren’t very interesting to watch.  They aren’t very interactive.”

“I will hopefully soon be running lines.  That will add some excitement to the house,” Caleb said.

“Try not to break anything this time,” I said.

“I’ll do my best.  It is so good to be home.”

“We all missed you,” I said.

“Tadzio the most of all,” Julia added.

“So, when you sound cheerful on the phone it’s an act so I won’t feel guilty for being away?” Caleb asked.

“While I would do that, I’m always so happy to hear your voice there is no need to pretend to be cheerful.”

Caleb grasped my hand.  Julia smiled at us.  She, and the rest of the household, had known about our relationship for years.

“I will admit I’m delighted you’ll be home more.”

“Me too!” Caleb said.

An hour later, Alec, drove us through the streets of Hollywood to the Hollywood Theater.

“It seems they could have come up with a better name,” I said.

“What are you talking about?  It’s a perfect name.  It’s a theatre, in Hollywood, on Hollywood Boulevard.”

“Too many Hollywoods.”

“Complainer.”

“It’s a hobby,” I said.  “I must say I’m impressed with the marquee.  It’s an old theatre, but it has been renovated without losing any of its charm.”

“Adam had a lot to do with that.”

“I’ve always liked him.  He’s such a kind soul.”

We entered the lobby, where I was again impressed.  It looked as it must have when the theatre was originally built.  It was an enchanting space with deep red carpet, gold sconces and wonderful details everywhere.  They didn’t build them like these anymore.

“This is impressive, but I want to see the stage,” Caleb said.

“I’m sure.  It’s your canvas.”

The lobby was empty, but we heard voices as we entered into the auditorium.  The houselights were off, but the stage was lit.

“This is perfect,” Caleb said as we walked down an aisle.

Two men stood upon the stage, so intent upon a large sheet of paper in their hands they ignored us until we grew close.

“Can I… Caleb Patton?”

“Yes, and this is…”

“Tadzio Moore,” the man finished.  “I’m a big fan of you both.  Come on up,” he said, indicating the stairs to the side.

We did so and joined the men on the stage.

“I’m Austin, the producer and director for most of the productions here at the Hollywood.  This is Ronald, one of our fine actors.”

“He compliments me to keep my pay down,” Ronald said.

We shook hands all around.

“I’m as pleased as surprised you’re here, but why are you here?”

“I guess I haven’t given Adam enough time to inform you.  I want to get back into theatre.  I’m getting tired of the big screen,” Caleb said.

“You want to perform, here?” Austin asked as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Yes.”

“You’re a movie star.”

“Yeah, and I’m getting tired of it and of traveling.  I want to do real acting, on a stage.  I’ve done a little live theatre before and I loved it.  I want to get back to it and focus on it.”

“We are not an especially large theater.”

“That doesn’t matter to me.  I’ve done the TV thing and the film thing.  I don’t care about the size of the audience.  I’d love to audition for whatever play you do next.”

“As long as you don’t go after my role,” Adam said.

None of us had heard him come in.

“Tadzio,” he said, then hugged me.  Caleb was next.  “Oh yeah, Austin, these guys will be stopping by to take a look around.”

“Thanks for the advance warning.”

“That’s okay don’t bother to greet me.  I don’t mind,” Ronald said.

“If you’re not careful, you’ll get a hug,” Adam said.

“Anything but that!”

I smiled at their exchange.

“Do you perform here often?” Caleb asked Adam.

“Far too often.  We try to discourage him,” Ronald said.

Adam crossed his arms and pretended to glare.

“Actually, I’m usually too busy, but I do get a chance to do a role now and then.  I tend to go for smaller, but interesting roles.”

“That’s because he knows I’m far more talented,” Ronald said.

“Keep telling yourself that, Buddy.”

Ronald stuck out his tongue.

“Actually, we’re conducting auditions for a play called An Evening With Mark Twain…” Austin began.

“Which Austin and Ronald wrote,” Adam said.

“I prefer Ronald and Austin wrote,” Ronald said.

“Of course, you do.”

“Anyway, we’re having a lot of trouble filling the main role.  No one we’ve seen is quite right.  Perhaps you could see what you can do, Caleb,” Austin said.

“Is it set in the years he did stage performances to pay off his debts?” Caleb asked.

“Yes.  I see you know something about him.”

“Quite a lot, actually.  He was the first superstar.  I’ve always found him fascinating.  I am rather young to play him, but I would like to give it a shot.  I’ll need time to prepare.”

“Of course.  We’d love to see what you can do.”

“You’re not interested in the role, Adam?” Caleb asked.

“I don’t know much about Twain and I have a feeling it’s not my thing.”

“Tell me about the play,” Caleb said.  I could tell he was excited.

“The focus is on Twain telling his stories, just as he did on his tour.  It begins with only Twain on the stage for several minutes speaking to the audience, but then he begins to tell stories and they are acted out on stage as he tells them,” Ronald said.

“Oh, I rather like that.”

“We can age you with makeup easily enough,” Austin said.

“I’ll just have to see if I can pull off the persona of an older man,” Caleb said.

“I have a lot of experience with that,” I said, with a smile.  Caleb grinned at me.

“How soon could you audition?” Austin said.

“I’d like a couple of days.”

“We’ll get you a script, but feel free to put your mark on it.  We don’t want this to be recited dialogue, which is part of the problem we’ve had casting the role.”

“Good.  I like that,” Caleb said.

“I love performing on this stage.  The acoustics are wonderful.  They really knew how to build theaters in the old days.  It’s possible to hear even a whisper on the stage in the furthest seats,” Adam said.

“Yes, so don’t say anything on the stage you don’t want everyone to hear,” Austin said, giving Ronald a glance.  I could tell there was a story there.

“Here’s a copy of the script,” Ronald said, ignoring him.

“Great, thanks.”

“Would you like to see the backstage area?” Austin asked.

“I’d love it,” Caleb said.

Austin and Ronald led him off.  Adam and I followed at a distance.

“How is Cliff?” I asked.

“Wonderful as always.”

“Your brother?”

“Monte is very happy and very successful.  He’s a bigger star than I’ve ever been.”

“I think you do okay for yourself.”

“I’m happy and that’s what truly matters.  I bet you’re thrilled Caleb is interested in doing theatre.  That should keep him home for a while.”

“Oh, it’s better than that.  He wants to focus on theatre, permanently.  He may change his mind later, but that’s what he wants now.”

“I guess he’s tired of traveling.  Cliff tired of that very fast.  I’ve stuck to California for the most part.  Travel never appealed to me,” Adam said.

“I’m very happy to have him home.  I miss him terribly when he’s gone, but I try not to let on.  I’m very lucky to have him in my life.”

“I think you’re both lucky.  Finding someone special is a wonderful thing.  Relationships aren’t for everyone, but they can be very fulfilling.”

“I’m continually surprised he loves me.  He could have someone young and handsome,” I said.

“You are handsome, Tadzio, and he obviously loves you as you are.  I knew that the first time I saw you together.”

“I don’t deserve this much happiness, but I’m glad to have it.”

Adam patted my hand.

Up ahead, Caleb, Austin and Ronald were discussing technical theater things that I knew little or nothing about.  My experience with the entertainment industry was mainly as a viewer, although I had created a few backdrops and works of art for use in films over the years.  I especially liked working on the backdrops.  I loved the challenge of the huge scale.

“Anyone hungry?” Adam asked when the tour and talk finally wound down.

“Always,” Caleb said.

“Let me introduce you to the best burgers in Hollywood.”

“The ambience is… non-existent, the food is great,” Ronald said.

“I’m buying,” Adam said.

“I’m getting a triple burger then.  Do you think Bub would make a quadruple for me?” Ronald asked.

“I think he’d yell at you for asking,” Adam said.

“This Bub sounds interesting,” I said.

“Oh, he is and he gets worse, or more interesting, with time.”

We followed Adam outside and around the corner to Bub’s Burgers, an unremarkable looking place on the outside and even more unremarkable on the inside.  It was what I believe was called a hole in the wall sort of place with mismatched tables and chairs and no décor except for some old movie posters pinned to the walls, but I immediately liked it.  The restaurant had a comfortable feel.

“Tadzio Moore, it is an honor to have you here,” said a man my age or somewhat older who looked and sounded a lot like Fred Mertz from I Love Lucy.

“It’s very nice to meet you…” I said, shaking the man’s hand.

“Bub.  I’m a huge fan of your art.  I have one of your paintings, Sunset on the Beach in Venice.”

“So that’s what you do with your money instead of spending it on décor,” Adam said.

“Stow it, Adam,” Bub said, which made Adam laugh.  “Please have a seat, Mr. Moore.”

“Please call me Tadzio.”

Bub wiped off a seat and gestured for me to sit.

“I never got a welcome like this my first visit.  Come to think of it, I never have,” Adam said.

“You’re merely a famous actor.  You guys are as common as dirt.  Tadzio is a great artist.”

Adam laughed yet again.

“If I ever start to get a big head, all I have to do is visit Bub’s,” Adam said.

“Or ask me for my opinion of your acting,” Ronald said.

“Shut it, loser.”

Ronald stuck out his tongue.

Caleb observed the entire exchange with a grin.  I could tell he liked Bub.

We ordered and Bub returned a few minutes later with everything.  I noted he didn’t make a single mistake, even though he didn’t write anything down.  I wished I had such a memory.

“You look familiar,” Bub said, looking at Caleb.

“He’s only another famous actor.  You won’t be interested in him,” Adam said.

“I also paint,” Caleb said.

“Show off,” Adam said.

“This burger is incredible!” Caleb said.

“He has excellent taste.  I like you, Caleb,” Bub said.

“What about me?” Adam asked.

“I like you, a little.”

“I’m afraid to even ask,” Ronald said.

“I know better than to ask,” Austin said.

Bub departed.

“This burger truly is delicious.  I’ve never tasted one quite like it,” I said.

“We come for the food, we remain for Bub’s indifference,” Adam said.  “I really like him.”

“I hear you!” Bub said from the kitchen.

“You heard wrong.  I was talking about someone else!”

“Sure, you were.”

“I can’t believe Bub is a fan of your work, Tadzio,” Austin said.

“Me either, but only because I can’t believe he has an interest in art,” Adam said.

“I can still hear you!”

“We’re all going to have to learn sign language,” Ronald said.

“Bub would learn it and still listen in,” Austin said.

“All of you care about Bub a great deal, don’t you,” Caleb said.

“He’s like family,” Austin said quietly.

“Like a grumpy uncle.”

“Still listening!”

“We know you are!”

“We’re all like a big family, even Adam,” Ronald said.

“You two seem to enjoy pretending to insult each other,” I said.

“It’s a hobby,” Adam said.

“He’s too cheap to collect stamps,” Ronald said.

“Hey, I’m paying for this, you know.”

“Thanks for reminding me.  I’ll take another burger, Bud!”

Caleb grinned.  “I love this.  I want to be a part of this.”

“Why does a big movie star like you want to be associated with us?” Ronald asked.

“What you do is real acting and I am so sick of appearing in films based on Jane Austen’s work.  I promised myself that if I made it through the filming of this last one that it truly would be the last.  I also want to be back home, with Tadzio.”

Caleb smiled at me.  I took his hand for a moment and smiled back.  I was sure no one at the table had any doubt about the love between us.

“It won’t hurt us to have a talented actor who is also a big name,” Ronald said.

Adam cleared his throat loudly and then coughed.

“Yes, Adam.  You’re a talented actor with a big name, too, but you aren’t available often enough.”

“Hey, can I help it if I’m in demand?”

“Yeah, the world really needs another beach movie.”

“Don’t make me come over this table.”

“I hear that Annette Funicello reacts the same way if she’s criticized,” Austin said.

“Yeah, but she’s tougher,” Ronald said.

This time, Adam stuck out his tongue.  I loved being around the younger crowd.  They made me feel younger myself.   That’s a feeling being with Caleb always gave me.  I don’t think he would ever be able to understand how much he added to my life.

We remained in Bub’s for quite some time after everyone had finished eating, then I called Alec and asked him to come pick us up.  Soon after, we were in the back of the Rolls heading home.

“I liked them all very much, didn’t you?” Caleb asked.

“They were delightful.”

“I cannot wait to audition, but do you think I can pull off Mark Twain at my age?”

“I think you can do anything, Caleb.  I always have.”

“You know what I mean.  You can tell in his writing that he had a certain way of speaking.  The pauses are nearly, if not more, critical than the words.  It will be a huge challenge.”

“Which is why it interests you so much.”

“Exactly, and the Hollywood Theater is the very type of place I had hoped to discover.  They said it themselves.  They’re a family.”

“It does appear to be a wonderful home for an actor.”

“Yes, and that’s something I didn’t have on location.  Oh, the cast and crews on all my films were fine and I developed some friendships, but it’s all so temporary.  I’m also so terribly tired of period drama.”

“This play is a period piece,” I said.

“Yes, but it’s mostly comedy.  I’m going to do my best to get the part.  If I don’t, I’ll just have to wait to see what they do next.”

I smiled.  I loved Caleb’s enthusiasm.

***

Caleb landed his role and soon, the house, a part of it at least, was filled with Caleb practicing his lines, or I guess I should say conversational monologue since he interacted with no one while he was speaking.  Other actors in the play had lines, but that was when Caleb’s words were acted out.  He was very much alone in his performance.

I knew little about acting and I was fascinated to observe while he refined his way of speaking and moving as Twain.  He developed mannerisms and a way of walking for Twain, relying heavily on what he’d read about him, and he read book after book about Twain as he worked on creating his version of him.  I had witnessed him creating other characters before, but this one was the most fascinating to date.

Caleb even studied the way I walked, sat, and rose from a chair.  He was quick to point out that the Twain he intended to portray was much older than me, which I found amusing.

I was curious as to how the play was developing as the weeks before the performance passed, but I did not go to the theatre to observe.  I feared I would be a distraction, mostly for him, but for others, too.

I attended the first performance with Adam Bluestone and Cliff McCoy.  We slipped in just before the play was scheduled to start, but the young actors with me were still recognized and signed a few autographs on our way through the lobby.  Being an artist and writer, I was not so easily noted.  I was merely a ticket holder who happened to be walking with TV stars.

Soon, we were seated and not long after the curtains opened to reveal a Victorian armchair, such as I’d often seen in my youth.  Otherwise, the stage was completely empty.

After a few moments, a figure in white ambled onto the stage.  His bushy white beard and moustache left no doubt that Mark Twain, also known as Samuel Clemens, had graced us with his presence.

Twain said nothing.  He merely puffed on his cigar and gazed out upon the audience as if we were a mildly interesting attraction.  Moments passed.  Twain flicked ashes off his cigar and continued to gaze at us.

I had read about Twain.  I knew what Caleb was doing and it was risky, so risky.  Twain had managed it, but could Caleb before the audience truly came to accept him as Twain?

Twain smiled ever so slightly.  It was more his eyes, which were filled with mischievous mirth than his lips.  Somewhere, far to my right and behind me, someone giggled for a brief moment.  Then, someone else laughed and the laughter spread through the audience like a tidal wave.  The audience roared and Twain had yet to speak a single word.  I was immensely proud Caleb had pulled it off.

“When I was a boy,” Twain spoke after the audience had calmed down, “some friends and I liberated a watermelon from a farmer’s field.  He was a watchful old man with fierce dogs and fiercer daughters, so the undertaking was not without considerable risk.

“It was a sweltering day and we were much in need of refreshment, so we crept along on our bellies, keeping so low only a bird could have spotted us.  We carefully chose our melon, then crept back to the edge of the field.  For safety, we lugged that melon over a hill and into a hollow.  It was so large, and we so small, that we had to switch off even though two of us carried it at a time.  We reached a secluded spot and broke open the melon, eager to receive our hard-earned and much deserved reward, but wouldn’t you know it, that melon was spoilt!  It wasn’t fit for a pig.

“Well, I was incensed.  How dare the farmer cheat us like this by sticking us with a no-good melon!  Such brazen effrontery could not be tolerated!

“We packed that melon all the way back to the farm, boldly walked up to the farmer’s door and demanded he give us a replacement!”

I laughed along with the rest of the audience.  It wasn’t just the story, but the way it was told.  Behind Twain, others acted out the scene.  Their dialogue was minimal, but it all meshed together in a way I could not have imagined before witnessing it.  All told, it was an original and hilarious performance.

I had so lost myself in the performance, that Caleb completely disappeared to be completely replaced by Twain.  How a twenty-six-year-old actor could manage what he did on that stage was beyond me.  As intimate as I was with him, I completely believed him as a much older Sam Clemens.

I attended every performance and never once tired of it.  Not once did Caleb fail to get the audience laughing at the beginning without speaking a word.

The reviews for the play were dazzling and not only for Caleb’s performance.   The writing of Ronald and Austin was applauded, as well as the performances of the other members of the cast.

I attended so many of the performances that I was treated like a member of the cast myself.  Some nights, I even went to Bub’s like the others, but most nights, I went home and left Caleb to enjoy the company of his fellow actors.  I was immensely proud of him.

Chapter Sixteen

“I’m nervous,” Thom said.

“I was nervous my first show.  You’ll be fine,” I said.

“You have nothing to worry about.  Everyone will love your work,” Caleb said.

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

Caleb laughed.  I smiled.  Alec had let us out near the gallery where Thom’s show was to take place.  I had convinced the owner to host it and it didn’t take all that much convincing once I showed him Thom’s work.

I had met Thom in The Brown Derby when he drew my caricature and I drew him in turn. I had sought him out soon after our encounter and we had remained in touch.  I had become very impressed with his work and taught him what I could.  Caleb enjoyed his company.

“The artist has arrived,” I said when we entered, holding my hands out toward Thom, who blushed.

The gallery owner latched onto him and pulled him front and center.  Caleb and I did our best to melt into the background, but it wasn’t easy since Caleb was quite famous.

For the moment, all attention was focused where it belonged, on Thom.  This was his night.

We soon joined the others as they began to peruse Thom’s work, twenty-four paintings in all.  I headed straight for one of the gallery assistants and purchased the one titled, Self-Contemplation.  It was the only self-portrait in the show and I very much wanted a painting of Thom.  Besides, it might move things along if one of his paintings sold quickly, especially when word got around that I purchased it.  My opinion meant something in the art world.

“Ah, Mr. Moore, I’m Randy Ericson.  I cover arts and entertainment for the Los Angeles Times, can I get a quote?”

“About Thom’s work, yes.”

“Is it true that you discovered him?”

“I don’t know if I can make that claim and even if I can, what of it?  I recognized Thom’s talent, but others would have done so soon enough.  Great talent always attracts attention.”

“Wonderful.  How do you characterize his work?”

“I don’t.  The vision of each artist is unique.  The only one who can answer your question is the artist himself.”

“It’s rumored you trained him, is that true?”

“Absolutely not.  Thom is self-taught.  I’ve merely given him pointers, from an old artist to a young artist.  Saying that I trained him is far too great a claim.  Thom has no need of anyone to influence him.  He has his own style.”

“Would you call yourself an admirer of his work?”

“Most certainly.  More than that, I’m an outright fan.  I snapped up one of his works on exhibit before anyone could beat me to it.”

“Which one?”

“Self-Contemplation.  As an artist, I’m fascinated by other artists.  I feel that this work reveals his very soul.”

“Do you believe he will be successful as an artist?”

“He already is.  Success as an artist comes from creating something that adds to the beauty of the world.  I predict great things for Thom.”

The reporter departed.

“I’ve never cared much for interviews,” I told Caleb when he’d gone.

“I have a feeling this one will help Thom very much.”

“Why do you think I agreed to it?  If he wanted to ask about my work, I would have turned him down.  I refuse to take any of the limelight tonight.”

Caleb and I did attract attention, Caleb more than me because he was more easily recognizable.  I did my best to stand back and observe.  I loved watching Thom talk to others about his work.

“Eight of my works have sold already,” Thom said several minutes later when he could pull himself away.

“I’m not surprised.”

“I’m told you purchased one.  You didn’t have to do that.  I would gladly have given it to you,” Thom said.

“Maybe so, but I consider it a bargain.  Caleb can sell it for a fortune after I’m dead and that’s the only way I’ll give it up.”

“Well, I hope you aren’t murdered.  That will make me a suspect,” Caleb said.

“Mr. Lucas…”

“Go.  You can talk to us anytime,” I said, shooing Thom toward those who wished his attention.

We stayed for the duration of the show.  By the end, all but four of Thom’s works had sold and I had no doubt those would go in the coming days.  I think I was more pleased than him, if that’s possible.

“This was wonderful, Tadzio, thank you!” Thom said, hugging me after the doors were locked.

“I did nothing more than bring your art to the attention of the gallery owner.  Your talent sold itself.”

“You did more than that.  I’m sure a word from you was sufficient to make this show happen.”

“I can see you don’t know much about gallery owners.  They are mercenaries.  They care about profit and then art, not the other way around.”

“Regardless, thank you.”

I grinned.

***

I thought that sooner or later, Caleb would return to film, but he meant it when he said he was done.  He never did another movie.  He received many offers for roles in film and TV, but he rejected them all.  Instead, he focused solely on theater, and when Broadway called, he rejected it too.  He was adamant about remaining with me in Hollywood.  I was both surprised and not surprised at all, but even more I felt lucky that I had found someone to love, who loved me so much.

In 1972, Caleb took a break from acting and I took a vacation from my art and writing to travel to Venice.  I had not been back since I visited with my family sixty years before.

The Grand Hotel Des Bains was still there and we checked in on a summer’s day much like that when I first entered the hotel as a boy.  The old grand dame had aged and had lost much of her magnificence, but she was still beautiful.

We were actually able to get the very same suite I’d occupied with my family all those years ago.  There was no way I could have remembered the room number after so long, but luckily, I had been able to find it in my journal before Caleb made our reservations.

“Is it as you remember?” Caleb asked when we were alone in our room.

“Yes, and no.  Time has been kind to neither of us, but even so much is the same.”

“Time has been very kind to you, Tadzio.”

“You only say that because you didn’t know me back then.”

“Fair enough, I suppose, but I find you beautiful as you are.”

“I’m old, Caleb.”

“You are aged and beautiful.”

“I am very glad you think so,” I said, as Caleb leaned in to give me a kiss.

The first kiss led to more and soon we were in bed, doing things I had not yet experienced when I was fourteen.

We had arrived in the late afternoon, local time, so after our lovemaking and short nap to help us recover from our jet lag, we went downstairs to the dining room.  It had turned into a restaurant where guests and outsiders could come any time they pleased instead of eating at specified times.  Gone was the Edwardian formality and over-dressing.  A part of me missed it, but most of me did not.

“I have so many memories of this place, especially of Aschenbach, Jashu and Francois.”

“You’ve never told me about them.  Perhaps we could have planned a reunion.”

“That’s right, I haven’t, but it was all so long ago.  It is quite a tale and unfortunately largely a sad one.  As for a reunion, I don’t know if Francois is alive or dead, but alive, I hope.  As for Aschenbach and Jashu, they both died the very year I was here, 1912.  Aschenbach died while my family was still staying in the hotel.  I remember him sitting at that table right over there, pretending not to watch me.”

“Who was he, and the others?”

“Aschenbach was a man in his 50’s who had an eye for me.  He was a very famous German writer.”

“Sounds familiar,” Caleb said.

“Yes.  I basically became him in later years, but back then I was pursued not only by Aschenbach, but by Jashu.”

I proceeded to tell Caleb the story.  The tale lasted through our amatriciana, pane carasau and our dessert of montebianco.  It continued as we walked out onto the veranda and down to the beach, ending only as we stood looking at the sea.

“Aschenbach died somewhere right over there,” I said.  “It is hard to tell now since so much has changed, but there is where he died.  I have always regretted being coy with him.  I should have given him what he wanted, but then I doubt he was capable of much more than a caress.   He was very much a Victorian gentleman, even in the Edwardian age, but at the least I could have spoken to him.  I had planned to do so and more, but I waited too long.

“You said he died of the plague?”

“Yes, he and many others.  Jashu, as well.  It is quite likely my entire family would have perished, too, if Mother had not taken us away when she did.”

“It is hard to think that you could be so long dead.  We would never have met.”

“Yes.  I often think of those who died.  Aschenbach was half-way through his life, at least, but Jashu should have lived many long years more.  He could well still be alive.”

“Perhaps if he had survived, you would be with him now instead of me.”

“Who can say what might have been?  But, I think ours was a summer fling.  I would likely have never seen him again, but I do greatly regret that he missed out on so much of life.”

“I would love to have seen you in your sailor suits.  I bet you were so cute.”

“I fear you were born decades too late for that.”

“I’ve always had a love of all things military, or at least, most things military.  I still have the outfit you had made for me, the one that was like that you wore when a boy.”

“Perhaps, I should have had sailor suits made for you as well,” I teased.

“I fear the time for those had already passed.”

“Yes, that was another age, but you looked rather handsome in your jacket.  While sailor suits are long out of fashion, that design is timeless.”

“Thank you for bringing me here, Tadzio, and thank you for sharing your story with me.  One of the things I have always loved about you is that you have lived so long compared to me and experienced so much, although I am sorry that so much was tragic or unpleasant.”

“That is life.  Death is especially difficult for the young to endure.  We are born not knowing it and it comes as rather a shock when we learn that everyone does not live forever.  With age comes the wisdom of recognizing that we all have our time.  Dying isn’t such a sad thing.  It’s a part of life.  When someone that I know dies, I miss them, but I accept that their time is done, and so is my time with them, except in memory.”

“I hope your time isn’t done any time soon,” Caleb said.

“We shall see.  I should be sorry to leave you, but it would be fitting in a way for me to die here where Aschenbach did all those years ago, gazing at you as I believe he was gazing at me.”

“Fitting or not, I hope you don’t do so.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Do you know what I want to do now?” Caleb asked mischievously.

“Have pity on me.  As much as I love it, once a day is about all I can handle.”

“Not that!  I want to build a sandcastle.”

I smiled.   “Then let’s do so.”

We spent the rest of the time until sundown doing just that.  I felt as if I’d come full circle, building sandcastles on the beach in Venice.  I only wished my family and all my friends from back then could join us.

***

I awakened beside Caleb the next morning.  During my first stay in the Hotel Des Bains, I possessed youth and beauty.  Now, those were gone, but I had love, which was even better.  I missed my mother and sisters and even the hovering governess, but I was happier now than I was as a boy.  I wished I could go back in time and tell the young Tadzio that he would find love, more than once, and that each time would be special.

When Caleb had awakened and dressed, we went downstairs for breakfast.  The dining room was much modernized and yet still had the feel of the room I remembered.  If I closed my eyes and listened to the clink of silverware on plates, I felt almost as if I was back in 1912.

“What are we doing today?” Caleb asked.

“I thought we’d take a boat to the city and see the sights of Venice.  You will love the Piazza San Marco.”

“What does Piazza San Marco mean?”

“Saint Marks Square.  It sounds much more impressive in Italian.  He’s buried in the basilica, or at least it is said that he is.  The Venetians stole his body from Alexandria long ago, but there is a theory that what they actually brought back was the body of Alexander the Great, which had been hidden in the sarcophagus.”

“Really?  That’s fascinating.”

“I don’t think the truth will ever be known.  It could be someone else entirely, a shopkeeper or farmer who somehow ended up in the tomb of Saint Mark.  The religious don’t bother themselves overmuch with truth.  They deal in belief, which is much easier if you think about it.  Nothing need be true for them; it only needs to be believed.  It seems too much like lying to me.”

Caleb laughed.

A little later, we sat back in a gondola for the ride from the Lido to the city of Venice.  Being in a gondola again, heading toward that familiar skyline brought a smile to my lips.

“What?” Caleb asked.

“Jashu and I took a trip into Venice alone once.  It was, I guess you could say, my first date, although I did not think of it as such at the time.  I was very much into Jashu and he adored me.  I suppose I was a bit naïve and perhaps he took advantage, but he was a boy.  He was terribly jealous of Achenbach.  We had a falling out near the end, but he apologized for grinding my face into the wet sand.”

“He sounds like a bully.”

“He wasn’t.  He merely let his anger, fueled by jealousy, gain control of him.  We parted friends and more than friends.  I was very distraught when he died.  It seemed to me as if everyone from my summer in Venice disappeared.

“It must have been tough dealing with death at that age.”

“Yes, although it is always difficult.  With Achenbach, I felt mainly regret that I had been so demure.  I could have given him so much more, but I enjoyed being pursued.  I liked the game of it.”

“I bet he enjoyed the game as well.”

“Probably, but I could still have given him more.  It would have cost me little.  Jashu hated the game between Aschenbach and myself.  It made him jealous and surly, even though almost nothing happened between Aschenbach and me.  He stroked my hair once, as I sat by my mother’s side, while he pleaded with her to leave Venice to avoid the sickness.  That was the only time he touched me.”

“Not much to be jealous of there.”

“True, but Jashu suspected there was more.”

“Aschenbach must have really cared about you to try to get your mother to take you away when he wanted you near.”

“Yes, I think he did and I have come to care a great deal about him, not that it does him any good.”

“I am sure he would be pleased.”

“Yes.  It is all I could give him after he died.  If he had not warned my mother about the plague, we likely would have remained in Venice and chances are we all would have died.  You could say I owe him my life.”

“Then I owe him a great deal, too.  Do you know where he’s buried?  Perhaps, we could visit his grave.”

“Germany, that is where he was from and I have visited it.  I placed flowers there many years after his death.”

“I am not surprised.”

“I only wish he knew what he did for me.”

“Perhaps he does.”

“Maybe.  I am not a religious person and think most religions are rubbish, but the fact is that even the brightest of us know nothing compared with what there is to know.  I dismiss no possibility, and so there is hope.”

The piers near the Doge’s Palace grew slowly closer until our gondola at last bumped against them.  I paid our gondolier and we stepped out onto the solid boardwalk.

“I never dreamed I’d visit Venice.  Before I met you, I never dreamed I’d leave L.A.”

“You would have done it eventually if you had never met me,” I said.

“You are not good at lying, Tadzio.”

“I like to think you could have accomplished just as much on your own.  Most of what you have accomplished is all you.”

“Without you, I would have never had the chance.  I’d be too busy trying to survive.”

“Who knows?  Perhaps your life would have been even better.”

“Unlikely.  The water comes up quite close to the level of the pavement, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Venice floods at times.  I have never been here then, but Venice is slowly sinking.  Most of the structures are built on wooden pilings,” I said.

“That doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

“It’s worked for a few centuries, but someday this may be the new Atlantis.  I am glad I will not be here to see it.  I have such fond memories of this place.  It is amazing how clear they are to me, when more recent events are cloudy.”

“You did have quite an experience.  Pursued by two suitors.  Jashu sounds hot.”

“He was.  I admired his muscles.  I was merely a slim boy then, but not Jashu.  I am sure we would have spent far more time together if not for my overly watchful governess.  She was the bane of my existence then, although I could not help but like her a little.  We became close in later years, especially after the death of my mother.  I supported and visited her in her old age.  She told me then she’d long thought of me as her son.”

“This is breathtaking,” Caleb said.

“See the large pillars.  Those have been there for centuries.  That is the way most would have entered the city before modern times.”

“The Doges Palace is magnificent.”

“Venice was once an empire.  Only the beauty remains and perhaps that’s best.”

We walked toward the square proper.  It was surrounded by shops, eateries, and Saint Mark’s Basilica.

“This is where we walked, Jashu and I, long ago.  Even after all these years I miss him.  I think he is special to me because he was the first boy who pursued me and treated me as if I was a prince.  My head was turned by the attention he paid me and yet I was afraid of what he might do to me.”

“You mean force you sexually?”

“Yes.  He was quite powerful enough to do so and likely knew I would have told no one, but he didn’t.  That is one reason I think he truly cared about me.  Had he only wanted my body, he could have taken it.”

“That would be enough to make any boy fearful.”

“Yes, and yet I basked in his attention.  I suppose I was playing a dangerous game, but I was too naïve to know it then.  Luckily, Jashu was not the type to take advantage.”

“I think I would have liked him.  Oh, there are the four horses, I have longed to see them,” Caleb said, pointing up above the massive entrance of the basilica.

“Venice is the last in a long line of thieves to steal them.  Some believe they are Greek, others Roman.  They ended up in Constantinople, then were stolen by Venetian crusaders and sent to Venice.  Napoleon stole them, but after his defeat they were returned.  Jashu and I considered being the next in the long line of thieves, but didn’t think we could carry them.”

“He sounds like a character.”

“He was.  Sorry, I talk too much about Jashu and Aschenbach, but coming here makes me feel as if I am near them.  I have been here once before since those days.  It was the same then.  I felt as if I might meet one or the other around any corner.”

“Oh, I like hearing about them.  It is a part of your past I know little about.  It’s a wonder you were not made conceited by having two guys pursuing you at once when you were so young.”

“Oh, it was even worse than that.  My mother treated me like a prince.  I’m lucky I didn’t become a beastly child and a worse adult.  I was a bit conceited back then.  I knew I was good looking and I loved to dress up.  My mother called me her peacock, as I might have mentioned before.”

“I think you turned out very well.”

“I didn’t come out half bad, I guess.  I could have certainly turned out far worse.”

“I love you, Tadzio,” Caleb said.

“And I will always love you.”

Verona, Indiana

June 2004

Chapter Seventeen

“Did you and Caleb remain together long?” Thad asked.

“What?  Oh.  Sorry, I was in the past,” I said smiling.  “Yes, we remained together a long time.  As I told you, he left film and TV for the theatre.  Before that, he landed TV guest spot after guest spot, so many that he had little time to model for me.  Finally, he landed a role in a film and then another and another, until he reached star status.  I kept waiting on him to come to me and tell me that he needed to move on, but he never did.  We had far more time together after he focused on the theatre.”

“I’ve seen several of his films, but I’ve never heard much about his private life,” Thad said.

“That’s because we kept it private.  It was out of necessity for a long time.  Actors couldn’t be out in those days, not outside the industry.  The term ‘out’ didn’t even exist.  Even when it no longer mattered, we kept our relationship a secret because we didn’t want to be bothered by a lot of fuss.  Our fame and the large age difference would have drawn too much attention.  We already had all the attention we could handle.”

“It was a secret well kept.  I’ve never heard a hint of it.”

“We were almost surprised that word didn’t get out, especially after the secret didn’t matter anymore.  I was with him until the end.  I never dreamed that he would die first, but, as I’m sure you know, cancer…  It was mercifully quick.  He became weak and we couldn’t figure out why.  He only lasted twelve days after we discovered what was wrong.  I always hoped he would be with me when I died and then go on to live the rest of his life, but instead our roles were reversed.  We spent his last days together.  He died at home with me holding his hand.”

I wiped away a tear.

“That’s a nice way to go,” Thad said.

“I wish it had been me instead, but we weren’t given a choice.  At least he has been spared the pain of losing me, and that’s something.  I do know he had no regrets and that he had a wonderful life.”

“Because of you,” Thad said.

“I merely nudged him along.  What he did, was all him.

“Caleb lived a fairly long life.  I miss him every single day, but I’m thankful for every day I had with him.  When you get old, you gain a certain perspective that I think is impossible for the young.  You realize that death, at least your own death, isn’t a sad thing.  It’s merely the end of your story.  Death isn’t important.  It’s everything that comes before that has meaning.”

I closed my eyes for a few moments.  I was so very tired.

“Tadzio?”

I opened my eyes and smiled.  “I’m okay, at least for a little longer,” I said, gazing at the beautiful blond boy who had just pulled himself up out of the pool.  Water cascaded down over his impossibly smooth skin.

“Is there anything I can do for you, anything I can get you?” Thad asked.  I think he sensed that something was wrong.  I knew what he sensed.  Nothing was wrong, but my end was near.

“Actually, yes.  Could you have Sean go to my room and bring back the small painting that is on my easel, and, when you’ve done that, could you ask Colin to come to me?”

“Certainly.”

Thad departed.  I watched Colin disappear into the locker room.  He was such a beautiful boy.  I guessed his age at thirteen.  I was quite certain he would be even more stunning at fifteen and sixteen.  Eventually, he would grow into a remarkable young man, but I would not be here to see it.

I admired the sun glinting off the surface of the now empty pool.  I took in the scent of the roses growing nearby.  I admired the beauty of the marble statues of nude youths and the equally stunning blue sky above.  I was lucky.  I had always been surrounded by beauty and had been blessed with the ability to truly see and appreciate it.

Thad returned soon with Colin, now dressed in khaki shorts and a purple polo shirt.

“Hello,” Colin said.  I liked that he was not shy.

“Hello, Colin.  It’s nice to officially meet you.  Please, sit at my side.”  He did so.  “I want to share something with you, Colin.  I’m sure you have a busy life ahead of you, but do not forget to take the time to treat each day as if it is the only day.  Enjoy everything you can, as much as you can.  What you enjoy doesn’t matter.  All that matters is that you enjoy it.  Seek out beauty in life.  It’s all around you, but most people can’t see it.  The same goes for you, Thad.”

“I think I understand.  I walk often in the Solarium.  I love it there because it’s so beautiful and smells so good,” Colin said.

“Yes, I saw you there once.  That’s it, a part of it.”

“I love playing soccer, too, and swimming and… Well, if it’s a sport, I love it,” Colin said with a grin that somehow managed to make him even prettier.

“Indulge in the things you love all you can, while you can.  Things often change quickly and what seems eternal is suddenly gone.  That can be a good thing, because it’s always fun to discover a new adventure.”

“Yes,” Colin said, nodding.  I knew he understood.

I reached out my hand.  Colin leaned in closer so that I could stroke his blond hair and caress his face.

“Tadzio?  Should I get help for you?” Thad asked.

I knew what he meant, but I was beyond help, medical or otherwise and it was fine.

“No.  I’d rather die here, in this place, with you, gazing at this beautiful boy.”

I did not voice it, but I thought it fitting that I died as Aschenbach had all those years ago.  I had become Aschenbach and Colin was my Tadzio.

“You’re going to die?” Colin asked, concerned, but not afraid.

“Yes, very soon, but do not fear and don’t be sad for me.  I’ve lived a very, very long life and I’m ready.  I’m content and I’m happy that you’re here with me.”

Sean approached with the canvas I’d asked him to bring.

“Ah, here is it.  My last painting, the varnish barely dry.”

Colin looked at it.  “It’s me!”

“Yes, I painted it from memory.  I want you to have it.”

“Wow, thanks!”

“That’s quite a gift,” Sean said.

“It sure is,” Colin said and hugged me for a moment before taking my hand again.

I didn’t think the boy knew I was famous, or had any idea what the painting was worth.  I could tell he loved it for the sake of it and that made me happy.  I sighed.

“I’m glad it makes you happy.  That’s something else I meant to tell you, but I am old, and forgetful.  The greatest happiness comes from making others happy.”

I gazed into Colin’s blue eyes, now lined with tears.  He smiled at me sweetly.

“Goodbye, my beautiful Colin,” I said.

My eyes closed on their own and I felt myself slip away.

Table of Contents

- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen