A Summer Wish

At the subway station, I sit on the bench Mauro and I once sat. I stare at the subway tracks and think of him, of his warm presence, his manly body, his handsome smile. I stare at the tracks and see some pieces of paper scattered around.

Of course! The small slip of paper with his home address! I take the small slip of paper from my wallet and read his address. I notice that he's written it on the back of a prescription note, for I can recognize the logo of a famous hospital in São Paulo, Edmundo de Vasconcelos Hospital.

After reading it a million times, I ponder what to do. I'm going to meet him at his house! The worst that can happen is that he's away. But he should get home sometime and I shall tell him that I went to the dam, just to see him. I'm sure he'll like to hear that. It'll bring a smile on his face. I'm quite sure I'll find him in his house. I know that I can get off at the subway station and from there walk for about five blocks down a long avenue. Then I take left and walk down Ernesto de Paiva Street.

As I reach 189 Ernesto de Paiva Street, I look at the number in the paper just to make sure it's the right number. I notice many trees and cars on the street. I see a large building with a balcony. Wouldn't that be great to live here, just so that I could visit him every day?

This is his number! I find a tall gate and an old car parked in the private garage. The number says 189. The house looks really beautiful and new. I see a passage that goes to the back, where probably Mauro's house is. I see two bells. I ring the second, for I know the first one rings to his sister's house. My heart races as I wait in expectation. Nothing. I ring it a second time and wait. Nothing. Finally, I decide to ring his sister's house. Nothing either. I look around and see the neighbor, a lady coming out of her house with a dog.

"Excuse me, m'am, I'm looking for the owner of that house in the back. Do you know if he's left the house today?" I give her my best smile.

"Are you a student of his?"

"No, I'm not. I'm just a friend who is looking for him. And do you know if he's around and should be back soon?" I ask her innocently.

"Well, I know that his sister and brother-in-law are traveling. But Dr. Vandyken, I don't know. I think I heard mother say something about him going to a hospital or something. I could ask her, if you don't mind waiting here." She goes inside with the little dog. I look around patiently and feel tired of waiting. The lady reappears again with her dog.

"Sorry to keep you waiting for so long. Mother was just taking a nap. Well, she said she spoke to him last Friday. He told her he was going to the hospital for an exam. But he told her he was all right. But he hasn't arrived home since. I guess he's in the hospital. I asked mother in which hospital he went, but she doesn't know which. So, that's all I can tell you, young man."

"Thank you very much. You've been very kind to ask your mother. Bye." I march back to the subway station and stop at Santa Cruz Station, where I know there is a bus that goes near the hospital in question. As I sit on the bus, I reach out for the note again. As far as I know, there's only one Edmundo de Vasconcelos Hospital around, and their logo is an orange squared hollow cross. I take the note again and check the prescription note. It's the right hospital. I also try to make out what the prescription says, but I only have gotten a small part of the note. There's nothing written on it.

It's getting darker now, even in Summer. It's because of the rain. I check the time and it's already six P.M. The bus finally crosses the bridge over 23 de Maio Avenue. I get off at the next bus stop and walk up a block. On the way, I find a pay phone and call my aunt and tell her I'm not having dinner tonight. She asks me about Mauro, and I tell her I didn't find him at the dam. I hang up the phone before she can lecture me again. I check my watch. It's almost six forty and I just hope they are letting visitors in.

The hospital is quite beautiful and I reach the large reception lounge. I ask for the visiting hours and they say it's okay now. I feel a big relief. I ask her to search for Mr. Mauro Vandyken. I cross my fingers and the receptionist informs me that his room is 2003 B, second floor. I can barely believe I am going to meet him again. In my enthusiasm, I end up forgetting that I'm in a hospital.

Christ! What about him? What if he is seriously ill? Somehow I don't feel like asking the receptionist about it. Anyway, I feel a little anxious and call the elevator, which moves at a snail's pace. As I reach his floor, I wonder how he is going to react when he sees me. I search for his room. 2000, 2001, 2002, there! I knock on the door. Silence. I knock on again.

"Come in." It's him!

"Mauro?" I close the door.

"Ken! What are you doing here?" He looks around himself, as if puzzled. "How did you know I was here?" He tries to sit up in bed. I help him. His body is quite warm.

"Aren't you glad I came to see you?" I approach him and notice that he's a little pale.

"Ken, I've just gotten a mild flu, that's all."

"It's just funny that you should have given me your address written on the back of a doctor's prescription note." He smiles.

"That's how you found the hospital I guess."

"Is it really just a mild flu, Mauro?"

"Oh, yes."

"That means a lot to me to know how you are."

"What else have you found about me?" His voice is faint but he seems determined to inquire my reasons for having come here.

"Your address, your lovely and caring neighbor," I smile.

"So, you've been to my place to check whether it was real or not?"

"It's a lovely place. A little dark I'd say."

"What did the neighbor say?"

"She said you spoke to her mother. That you were to go to the hospital for exams and didn't return home. That's all."

"You're quite clever, Ken."

"So, are you going to tell me everything or do you want me to find out for myself?"

"Well, I'll not go into any technical details here. But what I have is nothing serious. I'm just here for observation. It's got to do with, pneumonia."

"And do you expect me to believe that?"

"If you don't wish that answer, I'm afraid I haven't got a better one."

"Sorry, Mauro, I should have known that you were a bit upset. I didn't mean to come here like this. And I didn't mean to intrude. I just came here, well, I wanted to say that, I really missed you at the dam."

"Did you go," he puts his hand on his forehead. "Ken, I'm sorry, you don't need to, shit! I'll call a nurse if you continue crying. Hell, you're going to make me cry too! Here, come here." He hugs me and strokes my hair. "Sorry, Ken. I didn't mean to be rude. I think I'm just an old grumpy man. If you want the truth, I-I sure get lonely too, most of the time, and it's hard to realize that I'm an old lonely man who's been frustrated and have only made mistakes all my life. Then on a beautiful day at the end of summer, you come in and talk to me. I was puzzled at first. Then I couldn't stop thinking of you, Ken."

"Mauro, when I went to the dam yesterday and today," he strokes my face.

"Jesus, you went there in this kind of weather, just to find me!" He gently pulls my hair.

"I needed to go there. I needed to see you. I've kept my word."

"And now you're here, in this hospital room with me. Ken, I guess this is all I have to offer you. This old decaying body in a hospital bed. Is this what you want for yourself?" I nod and hold back my tears. "Ken, you're still very young, and, handsome as hell, and so full of life. You're all I could dream of, but I don't have the right to make you suffer or cause you pain. It's just not right, Ken."

"Why do people keep on telling me what to do? Why does my aunt keep treating me as if I were still, a boy! I know I'm a young gay man who loves older man. So, why do you treat me like my aunt does?"

"Ken, I'm sorry. I'm just reacting the same way that your aunt does because, I've been a victim too. I've acted foolishly all my life! I got married to someone I didn't love. I've committed many mistakes in my life. And now I feel I don't want to make more mistakes or make someone suffer because of my actions."

"Mauro, I hope you realize I am quite willing to try."

"Ken, do you really want to, try with someone like me?"

"Why not? I've searched for a decent and kind man all around, and now that I've found one, I'm definitely not going to let you go. Unless you don't want me."

"Ken, of course I want you to be by my boyfriend! Ken, you're my last hope!"

"In this case, you'd better recover and take all the medicine the doctor prescribes you. I'm leaving my phone number and address with you. I shall come here again tomorrow."

"Actually, I think the doctors are going to release me tomorrow. They've already made some tests and I think I've scored beautifully in all of them."

"So, we can see each other at your place then?"

"Sure, and I shall make up for all your troubles by cooking you a meal. Later I can drive you back home. By the way, do you like French cooking?"

I have a big grin on my face as I open the door of auntie's house.

"Look at the time! What happened? Where you mugged?" Aunt stares at me. I notice her holding her threatening knitting needles in her hand. She's also wearing her ugly champagne-colored bathrobe, and has those big fluffy slippers that have seen better days. She's been knitting and watching a tasteless variety show.

"Auntie, dear, I'm so sorry I made you worried. I promise I'll not do that again." I sit by her on the old liver-colored sofa covered with one of her knitting works. Her cat always gets her claws caught on the wool. No wonder it's unraveling at places.

"Have you been drinking? Taking drugs?"

"No, dear." I look at the TV and she's just flipped channels. Now she's watching Fantástico. Everybody watches it on Sunday nights. It's a sort of program with a variety of interviews, pseudo-educative programs, and extremely sensationalistic. "Oh, look aunt! A program about saving the pandas!" She turns off the TV.

"I'll heat up your dinner in the microwave and you're going to tell me exactly what happened, young man! And don't deny it, for I bet you met him. And let me guess, you've been at his place and spent some intimate moments with this man in his bed!" I smile and cover my face.

"Dear auntie! What a thing to say to your nephew!"

"Spill it out! What happened? Did you or did you not go to his bed?"

"Jesus, aunt! Of course not! Anyway, auntie, dear, I don't feel hungry right now. Mauro and I shared a plate of soup, crackers, and a medium-sized tuna pizza in his hospital room." She stops midway, with her fridge door open.

"What? Are they serving pizzas at the hospital now?"

"At Edmundo Vasconcelos Hospital's snack bar you can find it. You can even find burgers, fries, milk-shakes." She shakes her head.

"I can never have an adult conversation with you, Ken!" She frowns. "By the way, since you're so pleased with yourself, how about start looking for your own place? This way you'll have all your privacy in the world to bring men in whenever you like!" I sit on a kitchen chair.

"What do you mean, auntie?"

"Well, dear nephew. Guess what? Your uncle has finally decided to show up in Brazil. I suppose he's just had enough of Japan and, his mistress. This is why I'm telling you to find your own place."

"When is he coming back?" She checks the calendar taped on the door of the fridge. There is a spot marked in red pen, circled several times, nearly tearing a hole on the paper.

"In about two weeks!" She smiles triumphantly.

"Oh, how nice, auntie! So that means you won't be able to keep visiting that man, what's his name again? He's called here a couple of times asking for you. Oh, of course! Mr. Sato!" I smile. She purses her lips, and leans against the table with both hands.

"Listen, Ken! I don't know who you're talking about. And, never mention that name while your uncle is here, all right dear?" She forces a smile.

"Don't worry, auntie! Oh, by the way, tomorrow I'm not having dinner here. He's cooking something for us at his place."

"Suit yourself! I'm not going to," she sits on her old chair. "Listen to me, do you think you can trust people just after meeting them and having your outings. Do you remember what your mother said? She told me to keep an eye on you!"

"Listen, auntie, it's late and there's no point in fighting. Why don't we just put a stone on these unpleasant topics. Shall we?" I smile.

"All right. But not a word about that man, Mr., what's his name again? Anyway, if you wish, you can stay here as long as you want. I suppose two weeks is too little time for you to find your own place."

"Good night, auntie, dear! And thanks for letting he stay here longer!"

On the following day I have breakfast with her and go to work downtown. I reach the studio and meet the guys. They all look sleepy and drowsy. I'm sure they must have taken at least three different public transportation to come to work.

My day just goes by busy as usual. I handle clients, take their orders, hand in printed projects, and of course, tell the guys at the studio not to slack on the job.

During our lunch, we all go to a cheap snack bar, where we meet a lot of trans girls. All of then are prostitutes. But they have a good heart, I can tell.

Then at four P.M. I'm done with my work and head towards an office building just across the street. I greet the doorman and take the elevator to the 13th floor. I meet Mr. Silveira, Mr. Guimarães, and Mr. Prado for their English classes. Gigi, a trans girl used to teach these older guys English. She got tired of their bullying and flirting, and never returned to them. She's only taught them for a week.

"Hi, boys! How are you doing?" They greet me and we start our lesson. And as all of them didn't do their homework again, I collect $5 from each as a penalty. The class goes on until five thirty P.M. We meet twice a week and I must say they're picking up the language fast.

Mr. Guimarães wants to learn swearing and obscene expressions in English. He needs the vocabulary for reading the BDSM lit. that he loves.

Mr. Silveira wants to date American boys or any other foreign boys. Mr. Prado wants to open a BDSM club in São Paulo and wishes to learn how to communicate with guys abroad.

"Shit! Look at the time!" I rush to the subway station and get off at Vila Madalena Station. I rush down the street and find 189 Ernesto de Paiva Street.

I admire the trees and this lovely neighborhood. I ring the bell and wait. Just then I see a lady coming from the other street carrying her dog on her arms.

"Oh, hi there, young man! Did you meet Mr. Vandyken that day?"

"Oh yes, dear. Thank you for your help." She waits for her dog to poop, so she can collect it in a bag. I ring his doorbell again. Nothing. I check my cell phone and a message has just arrived from him. He says he's going to be a bit late for our meeting since he's attending an unexpected meeting at the university.

"He usually gets home around this time or earlier, dear."

"Oh, I know, m'am! I've just got a message from him saying he's coming shortly. By the way, is there a grocery store or supermarket around here, m'am?" She points to one, just on the corner. "Thanks dear!" I get some large ripe tomatoes, bacon, spaghetti, and a bag of shredded parmesan cheese, just in case.

As I return to his place, I find his old car in the garage and the back of the house is lit. I ring the bell, feeling quite anxious to meet him again. Then I see this strong confident man in his small black nylon shorts and white cotton sleeveless shirt. I suppose he's been jogging. Not bad for an almost retiring university professor.

"Ken, how nice to see you!" He opens the gate and we hug and kiss.

"Lovely to see you too, Mauro!"

"Did you get my message?" I explain to him my trip to the grocery store on the corner.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Ken! I've had to attend this unpleasant meeting. Then I jogged in the park, just to get my mind out of, anyway, then I hurried back just to forget picking up my groceries from the supermarket! I had promised you a lovely French dinner and this happened."

We enter the property and walk towards his house in the back, which looks quite old and dark. He opens the door and I'm taken by the mess of stuff all over his place.

"I'm sorry, Ken. This place is a bit messy. You know, my brother-in-law still keeps a few things here." I notice the piles of cardboard boxes, clothing, a broken guitar, two bicycles, gardening tools, a large box, which is written Christmas stuff. The place smells of mold and mothballs. "Ken, I-I suppose you thought you'd find a lovely castle with marble, a crystal chandelier. But this is, home." He smiles and fidgets with his big hands.

"That's all right, dear. At least you'veyou're your own place here."

"I-I'm going to be very honest with you, Ken. I've sold my car a while ago. This old car that you saw belongs to my sister. I'm actually a retired professor, but keep on working because, I've got to eat, don't I? Let me explain. As I've told you earlier, I've got two boys in university. They're nearly graduating. So, I'm paying for their education, and I've got little to no money left at the end of the month. And today, I attended this meeting and, I was dismissed from the university, Ken. So, I'm going to lose even my health plan." He sits on a chair that creaks under his weight. "I don't know what I'll do from now on. No one will hire someone my age anymore. I left that meeting room as fast as I could, feeling chagrined. This way I spared them the awkwardness of the situation."

"Mauro, dear. Take heart. Things will turn up for you. I am here, aren't I?" He nods and looks away.

"You're here. You're my angel of light." I hug him. "My God, what will my life be without you? And how will I be able to pay my bills?"

"I don't know, dear. But like I said, something will turn up. You've just got to be optimistic dear. Well, just to keep your mind away from all these troubles, how about treating me to dinner?" I wipe his tears for him and he smiles. "And I've brought something too." He smiles.

"Good thing you've remembered to bring something, for I have very little food in the house, but the little I have, we can share, my angel." He forces a sad smile.

"It's all right, Mauro."

"I-I'm so sorry, Ken. I don't want you to pity me. All I wanted was to throw you a nice dinner, make you fall in love with me and, have wild sex in my bedroom. But now, my heart has gone out of it."

"Do you remember the Cinderella tale, dear?" He nods and we sit by the large kitchen table, piled with empty plastic bags, bills to pay, a mug with pens and pencils, a dusty empty fruit bowl with dry moldy passion fruit, a dusty sugar pot, and the stained table cloth with black ink spots.

"Yes, Ken." He smiles.

"You're just like Cinderella."

"Or her dad, Ken. But I'm a penniless man, as you can tell."

"Hey, I haven't thought of her dad! Anyway, you're like Cinderella. And the only difference is that you're hot as hell. You've got a heart longing to love. You're kind, sweet, and courageous. After all, you've helped you ex-wife with the child support. On top of that, you're paying for their university education." He smiles.

"To think of it, you're right, Ken. Poor Cinderella was daydreaming of her prince charming to come and change her life beyond her dreams." He smiles and takes my hand. "Ken, will you also transform and change my life?"

"I don't have that kind of power, dear. As a matter of fact, I'm also penniless and struggling to make ends meet. But I know that our lives can be beautiful and magical if we combine forces, dear. And what is more important, we've found each other to build something together."