In the following story, all of the characters are totally fictive and the setting is real. For whomever it would be illegal, immoral or prohibited for any other reason whatsoever to read a story about love between two young men is kindly requested to refrain from continuing. A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at maringiustinian@laposte.net. Please remember to help Nifty stay online by sending your contribution. This being said, I hope you enjoy the tale.
A SONG OF SILENCE, part three and end
by Marin Giustinian
The following afternoon, Jeremy showed up a bit early. Seeing Ivan rehearsing on the lawn, Jeremy kept his distance in the shade, admiring him at work. There was something very aerial, almost ethereal about what he was doing. He didn't move the same was as before. His motion was like a feather in the wind, playing as it fell, yet never landing.
Jeremy couldn't help not hum to himself. A rich throaty sound rose from his admiration. Then, nearly worshiping Ivan's motion, his voice soared and then receded like waves on the shore. He crept in closer, more to feel Ivan's energy in space than to see better. Ivan seemed to be in a trance. He seemed to become incandescent as the sound surrounded him.
In a split second Ivan froze, seized by a flash of panic. Then he glanced in the direction of Jeremy's sudden silence and shouted, "So it's you... Yes, of course, it's you. I wasn't hallucinating!"
Jeremy advanced, apologising, "I'm sorry... I couldn't help singing! Your were even more fantastic than usual! Forgive me for peeping in on you. I'm sorry I disturbed you. Really, I'm so sorry!"
"I'll forgive nothing! It was magical. Why didn't you do it before! You were singing the song of my silence... Yes, that's it, a song of silence."
"A song of silence? That doesn't make sense, Ivan! Is it the heat?"
"My master in mime once told us that mime was the art of invisible visions... That nearly blew my mind. Now, I hear you singing the song of my soul as I move... in silence!"
Jeremy just stood there, puzzled.
"Sing again! I want to move in your voice and experience what happens."
"If you want, but kiss me first!"
Ivan laughed.
"You are unbelievable!" he exclaimed as he furtively squeezed Jeremy's crotch, and hummed his satisfaction kissing the mouth that sang his silence.
Jeremy hummed his pleasure.
"I really love your lips, but now let's work!"
Jeremy's voice had grown in range and in volume. In moments like this, it cast a spell on Ivan. Its force of emotion was deeper, less technical, more instinctive. Their erotic energies had empowered both their arts. The blatant beauty of blending meaningful movement and voice was close to sublime, artistically invincible. A masterpiece of performance was budding.
As they worked on each mime with its own specific song, they found multiple variations. There were moments wherein silence was necessary, other moments when it was best that Ivan remain suddenly immobile, letting Jeremy's voice soar and vanish. Also, song didn't suit all types of sketches. Jeremy invented other sounds. For the comical sketches, a little background giggling was quite effective. Holding his nose and mumbling, when a phone conversation was portrayed, was hilarious. It was never overdone... just what was needed to enhance the action.
After a few days, they felt the need to test their collaboration and invited Mary and Charles to a private performance. Perfect timing! Mary was dying of curiosity!
As Mary and Charles were on their way to the clearing, Mary said, "I've noticed a change in Jeremy... it's not drastic, but something's different. Have you noticed it too?"
"He's just growing up, Mary. Let him grow. You did a great job raising him, but now, perhaps, the job is done. It could be time for him to take over for himself, find other energies, other people than you to carry on the work of becoming a man."
"Charles, darling, I know you're right... BUT he's my little boy. You don't know what it's like being a mother!"
"He's no longer a LITTLE boy... and it's evident that I don't know what it's like being a mother... just like you don't know what it's like being a son! So... Oh, useless to argue... We're just going to enjoy a show! Hurry up! Don't make the men wait!"
The lawn was cut and raked. Ivan and Jeremy had placed their performance by the water. Two chairs were placed, facing the pond, backs turned to the setting sun. Ivan was closely shaved. His white face make-up was impeccable. He had penned the new title boards and placed the easel off at an angle by the chairs. Jeremy was warming up his voice in the wagon when Mary and Charles arrived.
"Here they come, Jeremy! You can now go to your hiding place..."
Ivan greeted them in character. He ceremoniously bowed as Mary and Charles walked into the clearing. Smiling and bowing again, he indicated the chairs for them to take place. He then strode over to the easel, ostentatiously flipped the title board over, revealing the words, "Printemps / Spring". Ivan then flowed into the space, slowly spiralled on himself and reclined as if asleep, on the grass.
His breathing amplified as he began to move and then rise. It was a majestic awakening of the body. Once he was halfway on his knees, Jeremy's voice began to be heard. At first distant and fragile, it became an undulating energy, pulling Ivan upwards. Staggering, he raised his arms, as if he wanted to touch a star and slowly opened his eyes, gleaming as he marvelled at the surroundings.
His outstretched fingers started trembling. Surprised, he looked at them as the whole hand began to tremble, then becoming a flutter, it became a butterfly on wing. Ivan pursued his flying hand, tugging him here and there, trying to catch the butterfly flitting around him, teasing him, lighting on his nose and then vanishing in air.
Jeremy's song was lilting, luminous, joyful. Mary and Charles laughed at Ivan's antics as he jumped, turning in the air, becoming a butterfly himself, and then they suddenly hushed as he waved Good-bye to the invisible presence, disappearing into the infinite distance of the imagination, whence it came.
Ivan remained frozen like a marble statue, an expression of wonder and sadness in his eyes. Jeremy bolted out from behind his hiding place, ran up to Ivan and broke the spell, lightly caressing his cheek. Ivan swatted the hand as if it were a fly, then turned. He beamed grabbing Jeremy's hand. The stared an instant at each other, then looked at their audience. Holding hands, they bowed. Mary was wiping the tears from her eyes as Charles stood, applauding.
"Fantastique! Extrordinaire!" he exclaimed reaching out to shake Ivan's hand, hugging Jeremy by the shoulder.
"It's not over! There are two more sketches..." excitedly stated Jeremy.
"I don't know if I can take more! I'm so moved already! My dearest young men, I don't know what hit me..."
She seized her face between her hands, looking at the sky, then screamed, "Oh goodness, the disaster! What have I done? I'm sure my eye makeup is smeared all over my face!"
Once the disaster was repaired and the two other seasons portrayed, Summer and Autumn... Mary said, "Now clean up and be at the house in thirty minutes for drinks and dinner! I've prepared a sumptuous lamb roast and we're going to open a bottle of old Bordeaux that Charles brought! Oh dear, my heart's still all turned upside down! You both are absolutely fabulous! Aren't they fabulous, Charles?"
As they were changing in the wagon, Jeremy asked, "How did I do, Ivan? I was scared to death!"
"Your voice was so beautiful. I almost stopped moving just to listen."
"But I was sure that when I'd open my mouth, nothing would come out. I was dripping with sweat, Ivan! I can't believe I survived!"
"You're starting to sound like your mother!"
"Are you teasing me?"
"Only a little bit... But I don't mind. I love your mother and I..."
"And what?"
"And I think I love you too, Jeremy."
There was a moment of suspended silence.
"Oh good God, Ivan! Say that again!"
"I / love / you. What more can I say, Jeremy? I've thought about you night after night, and now I'm sure that..."
"Let's spend the night together, Ivan. I need you too. I need your kisses, your caresses. I need to feel your heart beating, the taste of your lips, the scent of you, the savour of your semen, I need it all night long. I love you so much, it scares me!"
"Stop being scared all the time! Kiss me and let's go!"
"Pull your pants up first..."
As they came in, Mary exclaimed, "The house is full! I hope the guests won't be needing me. This evening is so special. I want it to be absolutely perfect for my two little geniuses! Come here and let me hug you both!"
Charles stood by the window, sipping his whisky, smiling at the scene. He cleared is throat and said, "Yes, both of you were particularly good a while ago. I think your show deserves a decent stage, with lighting and all."
Ivan replied, "I'm not sure, Sir... The stage is one world, the market place or the street is another... I've tried both. For the moment, I prefer busking, depending only on myself... and now on Jeremy. Maybe with him, I'll change... It all depends..." he said nothing more, looking at Jeremy sitting next to him, shoulders touching.
As they were talking, Mary had entered, bearing a tray with a bottle of champagne and four crystal cups tinkling together. When she saw her son and Ivan looking at each other, with that certain smile on both their faces, she halfway shouted, "My, my, look at the lovebirds! I knew it! Champagne!"
Ivan blushed. Jeremy giggled. Charles gulped down his whisky and said, "Mary, please... you come to the hastiest conclusions!"
"I know what I'm talking about, Charles. I can feel love -- I mean true love -- when it's there, and now it's there, sitting on my couch. My God that's so rare and it's here in my living room! I'm... Oh, forget what I am. Champagne!
"I don't want to upset?" mumbled Ivan.
"Upset? Absolutely not! Relieved! I've always known that my son wasn't cut out for women, and I could never imagine me being a grandmother... I was just hoping and praying that he'd be happy with a worthwhile companion... And wham! There you came. How do you feel about all that, my wonderful son? Am I right?"
"As always, Mum... All I want to say is that I've never felt what I'm feeling now, for Ivan, for our work, for the world... All I know is that I've never been so happy and ..."
"Nothing more needs to be said! Everything's going to work out fine! Isn't it, Charles?"
Jeremy whispered to Ivan, "She never lets me finish what I'm saying... It's can be convenient sometimes."
Charles simply answered, "If you say so, dear..." nodding as he uncorked the champagne, smiling at the boys.
With their cups brimming, they raised a toast as Mary exclaimed, "A l'amour! To love! To you both... and to Charles, darling!"
They drank. Mary sided up next to Charles and took his arm. Looking at Ivan and Jeremy, she exclaimed, "Well, what are you two waiting for? Kiss each other! Go on! Don't be afraid! You look like a pair of stunned dummies!"
Everybody laughed. Jeremy leaned in and grabbed Ivan's head and pulled his face to his. They shared a smacking, lovers' kiss.
When they turned their heads, they found Mary and Charles kissing too.
Jeremy faked a cough and simply stated rather loudly, "Mum! I'm hungry!"
"Oh my God! The roast!" screamed Mary as she ran off to the kitchen.
The atmosphere had calmed down some, as they were dining. Charles recommended, "Men, the village loves you the way you are. Some won't and will never approve, but they'll keep it to themselves. Otherwise, elsewhere, be careful. The times are changing and not everybody is as wise as Mary."
"I know what you're talking about, Charles," replied Ivan.
"Protect my son, Ivan," added Mary.
"We'll protect each other, Mum. By the way, I'm staying over tonight in the wagon."
"Excellent idea! Why don't you move in with Ivan? I could rent your room -- that is if you don't mind..." she cooed flashing a supposedly charming smile.
"Ivan, do you want us to live together?"
"More than ever... but there's so little room in the wagon..."
"All I need can be held in one bag. For the rest, my mother can store it. Am I right, Mum?"
"I guess so..."
Charles spoke up, saying, "Since there's some moving around going on in this house, tell me, Mary, would you mind if I moved in?"
"Listen Charles, there's only one room available... Mine! Take it or leave it!"
"I take it."
Jeremy and Ivan clapped.
"Mum? Can I have seconds?"
The following market day, they tried out their routine of mime and song. The title board read, "Le Chant de Silence / The Song of Silence". It was a smashing success.
"Jeremy, I can't wait any longer! We've got to hit the road! The first thing we'll do is find you a costume that goes well with mine. You'll let your hair grow some. I'll teach you how to make up your eyes... and put just a little gloss on your lips. I won't take much to make you absolutely perfect."
"I've always dreamt of wandering! But what about the yard and the rose garden?"
"Ask Charles..."
"You're right! But we'll come back here, won't we?"
"This clearing here is home for me!"
"Talking about home... Do you think we can go to Dublin together one day? I'd really like to see where you come from. It must be wonderful!"
"One thing at a time... Let me handle that in due time with my parents first. I doubt they'll react to us together like your mother and Charles did... but I'm sure I can make them come around. I'll work on them hard. Let's aim for Christmas in Dublin. The pub will be going wild and the town is actually quite pretty for the holidays."
"That's going to be great! And for now, it's going to be great too!" exclaimed Jeremy, grabbing Ivan in a bear hug.
They groomed Romeo, checked his new Polyflex horseshoes, polished the harnesses, washed the wagon, lubed the wheels and checked the tyres and brakes. With their belongings packed and stashed, the fresh water tank and pantry full, they pulled away.
The weather was clear. They drove, heading into the rising sun. It was good to be alive and moving. The landscape changed ever so softly as they plodded along. The fresh morning air cooled their smiles. The passenger of a passing car waved at them; others sped by, tooting their horn. Jeremy felt extremely responsible as he held the reins. Ivan leaned in close, his hand on Jeremy's thigh. The world was theirs.
They were on the other side of Condom by nine. No hurry, no cares, just a mobile sense of nowness. By the end of the afternoon, they had reached La Romieu, found a great place to make a stopover and prepare their performance.
Along the road, their performances were welcomed without too much trouble. Finding a place to stay was a bit more complicated, but with a little charm, they succeeded always by finding water, a space and grazing grounds for Romeo. When the place pleased them, they stayed on for a few days, enjoying the simple things of living together. Jeremy wove chakra bracelets which he sold between acts as the performed. They cooked, gathered wood, groomed each other, washed clothes, and talked about the work.
After going through Lectoure and then Montech, they finished a week later by entering the city of Montauban. They wanted to try out their luck there. The historical square in the heart of the old town was a beautiful place for busking. They decided to just go there and wait and see if there were problems with authorisations, the police and such.
They had left their wagon and Romeo on the grassy verge of the Tarn River, on the edge of the parking lots. They climbed the stairs to the old town, set up the easel facing the chairs and tables of the cafés on the edge of the square and began their performance. People gathered and were enthralled. As they were getting ready to move on, the police showed up and were not very polite. They had to show their papers. They were told to get out of town immediately. They replied that nowhere was it posted that busking couldn't be done. The owner of a café on the square came up to plead for them.
The police remained terribly rude and gave Ivan and Jeremy the injunction to leave the premises -- no discussion possible. Even if there were no official ban or local laws concerning street performances, the mayor had given the police instructions to tolerate no begging, no loitering, and keep vagrants out of town.
When they returned to their wagon, the front wheels had been lock-clamped by the police and a parking ticket stuck on the driver's deck. Romeo was nervous. Jeremy was furious.
Speaking perfect French, and knowing a bit about how to deal with authorities, Jeremy grabbed the ticket, dug out the letter of recommendation that their village mayor had given them, and stated, with a gleam of seething determination, "I'm going to settle this stupidity. It might take some time so don't worry. I'll meet you back here to have those clamps removed."
Ivan stared wide-eyed at Jeremy, smiling as he exclaimed, "I've never seen you worked up like this! Just stay out of trouble!"
"I love you, Ivan! I've got to protect our honour!".
Jeremy first stopped at the office of the local newspaper, 'La Depeche du Midi'. He briefly explained his problem to the secretary. She immediately asked a colleague in the back of the office to come.
"What can I do for you?" inquired the young reporter.
Jeremy told him who he was and why he was there. He simply asked the reporter to come with him to the police, with his camera. He could then come to the wagon and to write a subject concerning their passage. He also showed the reporter the recommendation letter and mentioned the owner of the café on the square who tried to defend them. Jeremy concluded by saying (translated from the French), "You can understand that it is absolutely intolerable that the police invent bans because of a tyrannical, fascist mayor's whimsy concerning artists, comparing us to scum. The honour of France is at stake!"
The reporter simply said, "Allons-y!" (Let's go!)
Sometimes Jeremy's natural aristocratic distinction took control over him. This was one of those moments. He strode into the police station, followed by the reporter and presented the ticket, calmly enunciating the following question (translated from the French), "My good fellow, what in the hell are we going to do with this... this THING?"
Dumbfounded by the audacity of the young man, recognising the reporter behind him, recording the scene, the man on duty rang up his boss.
In a few minutes of explanation, the chief of police, wishing to avoid a scandal, had the problem solved.
The reporter and Jeremy arrived at the wagon as the policeman with the key to the clamps drove up.
Jeremy simply said, "Ivan, I'd like for you to meet Paul Montpezat, a reporter from La Depeche du Midi who wants to interview us and take a few pictures."
Ivan stuttered a bit, simply saying, "Of course... but what's going on?"
While the policeman unlocked the clamps and left without saying a word, Jeremy told Ivan the whole story. The reporter then asked several questions and took a picture of them both by their wagon. He congratulated Jeremy's initiative and said he was going to write an article praising their art, not mentioning of course, the fact that Jeremy had totally humiliated the police and avoided a parking fine for a horse and wagon, not even in the parking lot. Ivan gave the reporter a photo of them performing and thanked him again.
They immediately hitched up Romeo and left Montauban behind.
Stopping for the night in a woods, heading back home, they laughed and laughed some more. Jeremy seemed to be more surprised about what he had done than Ivan. He confessed, "I wasn't even scared. I trusted the fact that we had done no harm, and even if I was by myself to do what had to be done, because it was up to me to do it, you were with me all the time."
"If you let yourself become a victim of your fear, then what you're afraid of happens. Faith in yourself is the best of protections!"
"It's because of the faith I have in you, Ivan, that I have faith in myself."
"Let's say we have faith in us!"
"Yes! I understand! Now can we just let the fire go out and get in bed? We've a lot more to say to each other... without talking!"
When they were back home three days later, Mary said that they had to ring up town hall in Condom. That's what Jeremy did. On the other end of the line was the cultural director of the new theatre. She congratulated them on the article in La Depeche and explained that the new, small theatre that had been renovated was to be inaugurated in November. She asked them to consider giving a performance during the inauguration ceremony, correctly paid, and waited for an answer.
Jeremy quickly told Ivan what it was all about. He said they must go and talk about it and that Jeremy should ask for an appointment.
They returned from Condom with a signed contract.
That very afternoon, Ivan called his parents. He stayed on the phone for nearly forty minutes, pacing up and down in the clearing. The fire crackled in the stove. Jeremy glanced out of the window from time to time. He was nervous as could be. Things seemed to be a bit 'bumpy' but not disastrous. As Jeremy was pouring the boiling water from the kettle into the tea pot, he heard a shout, followed by a yippee. Ivan leapt on the driving deck of the wagon and pushed the door wide open, shouting, "We'll be in Dublin for Christmas!"
"Oh, my God! Really?"
"Yes, really. My mother is even paying for the flight. She's dying to meet you."
"And your Dad?"
"My Dad? He took the news saying at least I didn't get a girl with Aids pregnant. He's like that, always looking at the bad side of things and being thankful that they're not worse. He asked if you were a lisping fag with a limp wrist or a flamboyant gym fairy. I reassured him that you were quite presentable. He then wanted to know who bit the pillow and I told him we didn't use pillows... He laughed. That's when I knew things were under control. All he said after that was, 'Here's your mother' and she took the line. She was very business-like, just like her normal self. We settled the dates... Then there was a silence before she told me that whatever I did -- as long as it was legal -- I would always be her prince. I told her that she would always be my queen. She howled and then exclaimed in Russian, 'You perverted rascal, I love you' and that was it."
November dawns came late and the nights fell at tea-time. The woods were clad in red and gold. The air was often misty, and the mornings, frosty. The stove stayed warm all day long. Mary and Charles had them over for dinner at least twice a week. They rehearsed in the community hall preparing a surprise that excited them both.
The small theatre was jam-packed for their opening-night in Condom. The lights went down in the house and the magic of Jeremy's voice immediately captivated the audience. Ivan stepped out of the obscurity into the rising haze of the bluish light. He no longer had the white face make-up on. He was dressed in simple black pants with a beige T-shit and a rainbow, chakra bracelet on his wrist. No gloves, no cap. His natural beauty cast its spell on everybody there. He began in slow motion a walk facing the wind. Slowly falling and rising as if he were rolling on a cloud, he seemed to float in Jeremy's voice. Jeremy then appeared dressed exactly like Ivan. He moved like a wispy shadow of Ivan. His voice gradually gave way to silence as he melded into Ivan's sphere. Their dance was hypnotic, a vision of pure human movement transcending gravity. Time expanded. Nobody could say how long the action lasted. It was a trance that continued until the stage slowly dimmed. Then there was an instant of total darkness, followed by all the lights of the theatre lighting at once. A thunder of applause rose from the room. Ivan and Jeremy elegantly bowed. Then glanced at each other, beaming and just stood there, holding hands, as the crowd yelled, bravo over and over again. Jeremy couldn't hold back his tears, neither could Ivan. The curtain fell. They kissed.
There was a knock on the dressing room door. Ivan opened. A very elegant lady introduced herself saying that her mission was to find young talent for the theatres subsidised by the Regional Government.
"Jeremy, could you handle things with the lady?"
Jeremy simply asked her to leave them her card, saying, (Translated from the French) "We'll think about it and perhaps contact you later. Thank you for your interest in our work. Good evening."
A bit shaken by their evident lack of enthusiasm, the lady gave them her card and left.
Jeremy burst out laughing.
Ivan grabbed him and they danced around in the tiny room.
Then suddenly Jeremy stopped and stated, "Ivan, tonight I want us to make love all the way. I need you in me!"
"Do you mean...?"
"Yes! All the way..."
"In me... in you?"
"All the way, both ways!"
Most of the guests were waiting for them in the lobby. All the bracelets were sold. Wine and tidbits were being served. They were applauded again as they made their entrance. Many raised their glasses, congratulating the artists. The director came up to Ivan and discreetly gave him two very plump envelopes. The one from the theatre was full of €50 notes, the other was the net revenue of the bracelet sale.
The mayor of Condom told them to come back soon. The theatre was always open for them. Ivan and Jeremy cordially thanked everybody, and discreetly took their leave.
Mary and Charles were waiting for them, parked in front of the theatre. They hopped in the back of the car, laughing.
"Mum! we're rich!" exclaimed Jeremy.
"Your new act is absolutely breath taking, a stunning surprise. Seeing you two moving like in a dream together made me so proud of -- I do hope you'll accept what I going to say, Ivan! Proud of BOTH my sons!" gushed Mary twisting around in the front seat.
"My mother and I are both honoured!" elegantly replied Ivan, hugging Jeremy by the shoulder.
Jeremy giggled in Ivan's ear, whispering "That makes us incestuous brothers, if I understand well!"
"What's so funny back there?" quipped Mary.
"Nothing, Mum... Nothing..."
Once back in the clearing, they stepped out of the car, thanking Charles and Mary for everything. Charles congratulated them again and they drove off, leaving the two standing alone under the harvest moon.
Jeremy picked up the bags, humming his contentment.
"Light the stove while I check on Romeo, please. I'll be there in a minute," softly said Ivan, touching Jeremy's cheek.
When he came in, the stove was humming, filling the wagon with its glowing warmth. A candle burned by the bed. Jeremy had in his hand, the small jar of cold cream he had fished out of the make-up case. Smiling at Ivan, he placed it by the candle and said, "Let me undress you..."
They snuggled close under the sheets.
"I love you, Ivan!"
"I love you too, Jeremy,"
Squeezing Ivan's nudging cock, Jeremy uttered, "Please... let's change nothing in our lives together. Let's just deepen what we are already living... Please... nothing more."
"Whatever we do, Jeremy, our lives will change. That's life! But, the important thing is that the changes be our own creation."
They hugged closer, writhing and rubbing a bit;
"Ivan... like you said when we began... our lives are our work art... or something like that."
"Yes, something like that... growing and learning and lov..."
Jeremy covered Ivan's mouth with a kiss, and then urgently whispered, "I need the cold cream... Please...."
The End
A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at maringiustinian@laposte.net.