Life Wheel

THE LIFE WHEEL by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2008 written on October 1, 1991 translated by the author English text kindly revised by The Australian

USUAL DISCLAIMER

"THE LIFE WHEEL" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.

CHAPTER 6 - Marco 4 and Matteo 5

Marco

School resumed and we had our first lesson with Matteo that day.

He was not tanned, despite the holidays, but he was still so beautiful and full of happiness at seeing us again. I'm more in love with him than ever before.

We had a rehearsal, like for an oral test, but without being called to his desk and without him giving us a mark. When it was my turn, he complimented me because I had thoroughly prepared.

When we were in the corridor after the lesson, he told me, "I have been really pleased seeing the improvement you are making, and that you are at last utilizing all your talents. Bravo, Marco, continue like that."

What made me happy was not so much his 'bravo', but rather the fact he told me that he was pleased.

When I brought home the first term report-card to be signed by my Dad, he was happy and told me he wanted me enter university next year. He asked me what I would like to study. I said I would like to study literature and become a teacher.

Dad said, "Ah, like professor Cordero. He really is a smart teacher. You know, he is the only one who doesn't make me feel ill at ease because I'm just a workman. He talks in a simple way, so that I can understand him, and he has regard for me, as if I were a Doctor or the like. You are lucky having a teacher who, in spite of his youth, is so smart. He really seems to cares about his students. If you become a teacher like he is, I would be very proud of you."

I think that this has been one of the longest speeches I heard from Dad. Who knows what he would think if he knew I am in love with my teacher!

At the beginning of the second term father Cesare, our religion Prof. told us something that made me think a lot. We were in our classroom talking of the Church who is the sacrament of Christ on Earth.

At a certain point Stefano said, "Sorry, father Cesare, I like Christ, I'm certain of that, but I really can't say that I like the church. Just look at all the gay people, us in particular. According to your church we will all go to hell. On the day of the Final Judgement, your God would say to us, 'You're a faggot? Down to the eternal fire with you'! So, why must I love such a God, as you tell us we should?"

"The church is Christ's spouse and as such particularly assisted by his spirit. But at the same time the church is made by all of us, therefore she is deeply human. This means that the church is, at the same time, a saint and a sinner exactly like any of us. She condemned Galileo and I don't think that Christ did really agree with that. We at present, understand that the church was wrong. Pope John XXIII told us something that the church throughout the centuries seemed to have forgotten, 'Do not confuse the sin and the sinner'.

"Therefore at present the church condemns homosexuality as a kind of moral disorder, but not the homosexual people. I believe that on the Last Judgement Day, God will not ask us if we were straight or gay. I am sure he will ask us 'Did you always do your best to love everybody? Or were you a selfish person? You have a boyfriend. Did you give him the best of yourself hoping only for his well-being, or did you just use him for your selfish pleasure?' If you really love him, God will make you sit amongst his saints, because you will able to accept His love. If you didn't love, you will not able to accept his love, therefore it will be you that shuts yourself in what we call Hell."

I then thought "I really love Matteo, therefore God, (providing he exist), approves of me". Well, I could be stupid, because I don't even know if God exists or not, but the thought made me feel better, lighter, more serene. The fact remains. My loving Matteo is a positive and beautiful thing. Why can't he love me?

Life is full of mysteries that neither philosophy nor religion are able to solve. But at least religion is more honest than philosophy, because it admits that there are mysteries, and doesn't pretend to explain everything like philosophy or science does.

During the second term we went in a school trip to Florence. As I hoped, Matteo came with us. I enjoyed his company for a solid five days. He was smart, as one would expect but differently from the other Profs. Matteo spends all his time with us, mixes with us, and has his meals with us too. Our other school mates in the other touring 3rd classes were envious of us because of Matteo.

He explained plenty of interesting things to us with his usual passion and fervor, but he also toyed with us, joked with us, and listened to all our confidences. Not at mine, because the only thing I would tell him (and I couldn't) is that I'm in love with him. I know that several of my class-mates confided in him. Not only does he speak well, but he is good at listening.

He's able to understand us. When he has to tell you that, in his opinion, you are wrong, he says it without pontificating or without malice but in such a kind and respectful manner, that he never offends you, he never makes you feel bad. He helps you to reflect.

When he asks us to do something, none of us is able to refuse. I think that our 3F is the most well-behaved class, especially with him because he never imposes threatening discipline, but he reasons and then he asks us in a friendly way to do or not to do something. None of us choose to do differently. It just comes naturally to us to do as he asks. I mean, if he says "Please, be silent or else you will prevent the others from concentrating (or to sleep, or to hear the TV) we become silent and if one of us forgets, or doesn't care about the situation, we all ask that person to be quiet. This is how it works.

When we were visiting a museum he told us "Now each of you can go again and see the art-work that is of interest to you, or you can take a rest. In fifteen minutes we must meet again at this spot". We all checked our watches and you could guarantee that in fifteen minutes, not one of us was missing. The other Profs. had to go around to gather their students and to scold them for being late. Just once Roberto came five minutes late, breathless and excused himself. All of us gave him a good telling-off.

But Matteo said, "Losing track of time can happen to anybody now and then, but you, Roberto, next time you think that being late is not a question of just five minutes, but of five minutes for each one who is waiting for you. This means that today, having lost those five minutes to each of us, you have stolen what amounts to about two hours".

I never realized how right he was to think like that. How does Matteo say it? "The lesser of our actions doesn't just have a personal influence, it also has a social one, therefore it is always multiplied, widened, be it for good or for bad, way beyond its apparent limits. He who does a small solidarity gesture, can make all of society better. He who performs a selfish action, makes all of society worse by that act".

My admiration for Matteo does nothing but increase, and along with my admiration... and my love.

May 5th 1985 was a date I will hardly forget. I came to know that a new gay disco had been opened. It was inaugurated the day before. Leo, who attended the first night told me that it was worth a visit. So on the 5th I went there with a couple of my friends.

I was at the counter waiting my turn to buy a drink, when I look around and found in front of me... Matteo! I looked carefully at him, as I thought it impossible for him to be there. Fleetingly, I thought that, he may have thought that it was still a straight disco, as it was before the renovations. He came near me, smiling as always.

I asked him, "What are you doing here, Matteo? Don't you know that this disco has became a gay one?"

"Yes, I have been told that."

"So, then, you just came to see what a gay place looks like? Are you curious to check the ambience?"

He, tranquil and serene, said, "No way, Marco. I'm not here out of curiosity. I'm here because I am gay too."

At first I didn't believe him, but then I had even more serious doubts about his statement. I became somewhat pissed off with him and said "Don't take me for a ride! You always told us you weren't gay. Were you telling us bullshit before, or are you telling me bullshit now?"

He told me it wasn't true, that he never said or made us believe he is straight. Neither me or the others. He said it has been us who had wrongly interpreted his words or behaviour. He never though of washing his dirty linen in public, but he never tried to hide it either.

I asked him again if he really is gay, and this time, I asked him if I was his type. He answered that yes, I'm his type, but he could not disappoint me telling me it was possible starting something with me, because in his opinion a Prof. and a student should not have sex. They cannot have a relationship any different to that the school type.

For a while we talked, sitting in a corner. I asked him to go outside for a while so that we could talk without the blare of the music drowning us. We went out and we talked, walking up and down the street.

When we were outside I asked him to explain to me why a Prof. and a student should not make love. We talked for a long while. At the end of it, I was only half convinced of his reasoning.

I told him, "But I'm in love with you, I can't help it. Aren't you in love with me?"

He barely answered me, because he said it was irrelevant and we could neither become a couple nor just have a one night stand. His words didn't ring true. They led me to understand that he was in love with me too. It would have been simpler and more honest of him to just answer "no".

"If I weren't one of your students, and if this evening was the first time you met me and I tried to hook you, would you have come with me? Tell me the truth, yes or no".

He said, "I really think I would, but..."

I smiled because I understood he was about to tell me one of his favourite slogans - History is not made with "if".

I continued, "I'm sorry you think that it's wrong to fall in love with one of your students. Either that or I'm sorry for being one of your students. Anyway I'll accept and respect your choices. Don't worry, I won't tell anybody that you're gay and that I met you here".

He said it was alright, and told me that he hopes I don't stop studying because of my disappointment. I told him not to worry, as I wouldn't. Then I asked him if we can meet after my graduation. He answered it would be better we didn't so that my infatuation for him will abate.

While we were going back into the disco, I asked him if the friend he came with was his boyfriend. He shook his head and said that he wasn't.

This confirmed to me what I rightly thought, that he too is was in love with me. If he thinks my love is just an infatuation, then he is wrong.

Back in the disco, Matteo went with his friend and I with mine. I was looking at him dancing and he too looked at me. When I saw he was about to leave I went over to him and whispered to his ear, "I'm not infatuated, I'm in love with you. It's not the same thing, is it?" and returned to the dance floor.

One of my friends said, "I thought he came with you. How comes he is leaving now?"

"I didn't bring him and he's not interested in me."

"What a pity, he's a real hunk! Why isn't he interested in you?"

"He says I'm too young for him."

"Ah, he likes the older ones then? It's really a pity, I was tempted to try to hook him before you left for such a long time. I thought you had gone to fuck."

"I'd have liked to, but we just chatted out on the street."

"And it took almost two hours for him to tell you that you aren't his type? You don't get me swallowing it. I think you went some place to have a quickie."

I would have settled for a quickie, it would have been better than nothing at all.

What effect does it have on me to now know that Matteo is gay? Well... it gave me some hope, even though he insists on saying that there should be nothing between us. I could be wrong, but I'm rather sure that, even if he is not deeply in love with me, he somehow feels something for me. He even said " I'm fond of you" but his eyes revealed more than that.

I told myself "Let these next three months pass, even the vacation time. Then I'll go to see him". No, I don't let him go just because of his principles, even if they were right, they would have no more meaning once I'm not one of his students. If it happens that I'm wrong, if he really is not in love with me, who should care less! Still, I don't believe him.

During these last three months I studied Matteo. Not to make him feel ill at ease, I behaved as if nothing had happened. The more I observed him, the more I was persuaded that his eyes betrayed something. They were just light feelings. I don't think I'm interpreting the fact just because I am in love with him but his blue eyes are more transparent than his words.

It is hard not to confide in Leo, but I promised Matteo that I wouldn't and I believe it only fair. Stefano was never able to keep a secret. Telling him would not guarantee secrecy.

After the school leaving tests and before receiving our results we all (including Matteo) went to a pizzeria. When the results were published I saw that I was only one of three that got a full pass of 60/60 and honours! The others were Leo and a girl from 3B.

I got the certificate from the school, went to do a photocopy, then I wrote on it, "This is the gift I wanted to give you to thank you for everything, and to remember you that mine is no infatuation. I wanted to get this result, and I got it, just for you." I put the copy in an envelope and sent it to him, registered priority mail. At first I thought I'd give it to him by hand, but I thought this was a better way.

Now, I am on vacations with my folks. They are happy. It has been three years since I didn't go back to the village with them. Staying at home gives me the chance to rest and spend all of my time reading and thinking of Matteo. I'm not in searching for adventures anymore. I'm doing projects about my future, and I daydream. I offered to give Dad a hand repairing our country house and to pick the fruits for Mum to make her pots of jam.

Mum told me, "When we are back home, would you take some jam to professor Cordero?"

"Sure Mum, I'll bring him some of your delicious jam. Don't doubt it".

Matteo

I had nearly finished preparing to leave for my vacation, when the postman rang the doorbell. There was a registers priority letter. I opened it. There was a photocopy of Marco's Diploma Certificate with the score (60/60 and honours!) surrounded with a red felt pen circle and at its side the words, "This is the gift I wanted to give you, saying thank you for everything, and to remind you that mine is no infatuation (underlined). I wanted to get to this (with an arrow pointing to the score) result, and I got it, just for you (underlined three times)."

I felt moved, deeply touched. I felt a strong desire to call him, but I didn't. Then I thought I could write to him and started four or five times, but each time I threw it away and in the end I just gave up. What could I write him? Nothing more than I had already told him on that evening at the disco, about three months ago. Should I possibly write him "I too love you. Come. I'm waiting for you with my hearth on my sleeve. I want you"! However, I felt it was not right.

And yet, he is in love with me and I with him. He is no more one of my students. In December he will be twenty years old. He's not a kid any more. He seems to me so beautiful that he takes my breath away. He is likeable, intelligent, good-hearted, honest. Why don't you surrender Matteo? Aren't you just being stubborn?

I left for my vacations. This year I had decided to visit Campania, alone. Between Rome and Naples I stopped to pick up a hitchhiker. He was a likeable Danish boy. He loves Italy and it's art. He spoke fairly good Italian. He was nineteen and his name was Arne. He also wanted to tour Campania, so I proposed that we do it together. He accepted and asked me to choose accommodation that was not too expensive. I told him not to worry, as I also had little money to spend. He asked me what job I did, and I told him I am a novice teacher. I had to explain to him that a novice teacher was not a teacher of Friars. He said he was attending something like our Fine Arts Academy.

In Naples I had the address of a cheap hostel and we asked for a twin bedroom. We undressed, went to bed and switched off the light. There was nothing more than a small night table separating us.

He said, "I looked at you while we were undressing. You are nicely built."

I didn't answer.

"Does it bother you that I looked?"

"No." I answered thinking that he was nicely put together too, but didn't tell him.

"I... am gay. So now you know, but I won't bother you."

"I'm gay too."

"I hoped so, but I was not sure. I've a boyfriend, do you have one?"

"No I don't. Why didn't your boyfriend come along with you?"

"He is in the army, he couldn't come."

"It's a pity."

"Yes and no. At times it is good being well away from each other It is good to have an adventure but when the time comes to go back home, you rediscover the pleasure of being with your lover again."

"You could discover that there is someone better and find that you are no more interested in him."

"It's difficult. I already know that there are people better than him. It's the same for him, but we fit together like a hand in a glove. We have been together for four years now."

"Is he the same age as you?"

"No, he's twenty-six. Besides the army job he is also an athletics coach. He was my coach. Now we are waiting for him to become an officer so he can live outside of the barracks where we can be together. We will possibly also marry."

"Then, when you started your relationship, you were fifteen and he was twenty-two, and he was your coach"?

"Right. We fell for each other in the first few months but he was extremely correct in his approach, up until the day I told him I was in love with him. We made love in the equipments depot, on the high jump mattress."

"Was it your first time?"

"No, I had discovered sex two years before that but he was my first adult man. Before meeting him I just did it with mates of my age, boys who were about seventeen or so. I never fell in love before meeting him."

I proceeded to tell him about Marco and me. He listened in silence, interrupting a few times to ask some questions.

Then he said, "If Kaj, my man, behaved like you, he would have denied me four years of happiness. If you love him, why don't you want to make him happy? This Marco seems to be a good boy, according what you told me. Write to him tomorrow, at least a postcard, and tell him you are thinking of him."

"I don't know..."

"You have to! I think he deserves it. It's stupid suffering for so long, both of you, don't you agree? It's obvious that Marco respects you a great deal. I wouldn't have allowed you to say no to me. I would have fought, struggled like mad to get the one I love. I would have fought for someone like you. I always fought to get what I need. One should never surrender."

I didn't answer. For some time he kept silent, then I heard him leave his bed and in the half-darkness I saw him standing near my bed, his briefs swollen and full.

He pulled off my sheet and caressed my bare chest.

"It we have to spend these days together, I would like to make love to you. I like you."

I again didn't answer. He bent down and kissed my chest, while his hand slipped downwards. When he felt me shudder, he stepped out of his briefs and slid into bed with me. We made love and I must say I really enjoyed it.

After our climaxes, he started caressing me, and he said, "Do you see what I mean by my saying that I fight to get what I want? That boy has to do the same with you."

"You didn't need to fight, it seems."

"No, not this time. I like how you make love. On your school trip he should have came to your room and make love to you. I would have done so. While you were making love, you thought of him, didn't you? Am I wrong?"

"No. For fleeting moments I did think of him, but how can you tell?"

"At times your eyes were smiling, but not looking at me. You were miles away. I know you were looking at where your heart is, because I know that my eyes look into the distance when I'm thinking of my Kaj."

"Yes, I was thinking of my Marco."

"Then, tell him. He will be happy. Don't you want to make him happy? He became the best student of the school for you. Don't you want to do anything for him?"

The following day I sent him a postcard with the shortest of messages, "Thinking of you. Matteo." While I was posting it I was feeling an overwhelming emotion. I felt as if I was sending him a declaration of love. Arne sent a postcard to his man too.

We toured Campania far and wide and made love almost every night. During the day he talked to me about his Kaj, and I talked to him about Marco.

I sent two enjoyable, very agreeable weeks.

Then, when he had to go back home, I saw him off at Rome airport and we exchanged our addresses.

Just before passing the customs, he told me, "When you to write me, I want you to you tell me that you are with Marco. Ask him too to sign too. Alright?"

"Will you tell Kaj about me?"

"I tell Kaj everything. When I write to you, he will write his greetings as well, but I think he will write them in Danish or possibly in English. Goodbye, now."

"See you again, Arne, I hope. I will let you know. Have a good flight and thank you for your dazzling company."

"Thank you too. Listen to me, talk with Marco."

"If he still wants of me, after my so many 'no's."

"I say he still wants you. Best wishes and bye."

All through the journey back home, I though of Marco. What did I need to do? Calling him? Write to him? Wait for him to turn up? I sent him two postcards with just the words "Thinking of you" because I didn't want him to be embarrassed in front of his parents. Would he understand, that behind these simple words there was written a lot more?

A few days after I was back home, the usual school routine started again. Preliminary meetings, September tests and the beginning of the lessons. I didn't call or write to Marco possibly because when I came back, there was no messages in the mail from him.

Now that Marco was no longer in the class, the school was not the same for me. I go on feeling pleasure with my classes, and of course, with my students. I taught them with my usual devotion, but I missed the joy of entering the classroom and seeing Marco's green eyes, filled with love. Love for me.

It was mid-October and my door-bell rang. I went to open the door and it was Marco!

"Am I disturbing you? I should possibly have called before coming, but I was passing nearby and... I went to the University to take the matriculation forms and..."

"Come in, come in, I'm really glad to see you."

"I have to present my studies project. I thought that you could possibly give me your advice, if you have time."

"Sure, come in."

"Are you well?"

"Fine, and you?"

"Fine too. Thank you for the postcards. I was really pleased. I am sorry I didn't write to you."

"Yes, you did. I've received your photocopy... It was a nice gift."

We both were feeling somewhat tense, perhaps even embarrassed.

"May I offer you a drink?" I sought to lessen the tension and put him at his ease.

"A coffee?" he asked with a shy smile.

"Good. I'll have one too. Come into the kitchen while I prepare it."

"You have a nice place here."

"I've tidied it up a little, but I would like to change a few more things."

"It's bright, with all the walls in white."

"Yes, but at times I feel somewhat lonely."

"Do you miss your mother?"

"At first it was difficult. Now I miss... um... company."

"I see."

Silence.

I kept repeating to myself in silence "Tell him you love him", but I wasn't able. He just looked out of the window.

When the coffee was ready, I asked him, "How much sugar?"

"A small spoon, thank you."

"How is the coffee?"

"Good... fine. Nobody ever comes here?"

"A few friends just to visit me. Nobody special. Nobody who... who counts, I mean."

Silence again.

Then, while I was putting the empty cups in the sink, he asked, "Would you show me the rest of your home?"

"Yes, come and I'll show you. This is a kind of studio and guest-room. Nobody has slept here yet. This is my bedroom..."

"I like it. I... I would like to leave my home, to live on my own, but as long as I study, I can't afford it."

"Yes, I see."

"Matteo?"

"Yes, Marco?"

"Let's go back to the living room..."

"Yes, if you want".

Back in the living room, we started to talk about his studies project. But my head was filled with a myriad of thoughts. "Tell him you love him. Tell him you love him" a hidden voice kept repeating. Why wasn't I able?

"... two test in the Summer session, two in the Autumn and one in the Winter. What do you think?"

"Yes, it could be good, but I would prefer to try three in the Summer and two in Autumn. If you pass them, you will be free to attend the lessons of the second year, and if you failed one of them, you can try again in the Winter session."

"I see. You are right. Which of this tests do you think are more difficult?"

"Possibly this and this" I said pointing to the list's contents. "If you go on studying as you did in High school, none of them will really be difficult for you."

"I see. Did you meet some of my old class mates?"

"No, you are the only one, up to now. Usually, after school is over, teachers are forgotten."

"I... I can't forget you. Nothing changed for me. Inside me, I mean. Nothing but the fact that before I could see you almost every day. Now... I miss you."

"I miss you too. Very much. As I enter the classroom... I still look for you, do you realise that?"

"Really?"

"Really. That's why I am very glad you came."

"May I come again, then?"

"Any time."

"I was a little afraid coming here, today. You told me it was better we didn't meet again. I was afraid I'd try your patience"

"I think... I think I changed my mind. You are no longer one of my students. In a while you will start going to university, and..."

"I'm no longer one of your students " Marco repeated in a low voice.

I stretched out my hand and rested it on his, in a kind of shy caress.

I told him, "Do you understand what I am trying to tell you?"

"Possibly... but... I wouldn't be wrong. It seems that at one point in time I ... um, failed to understand what you were saying to me."

"Marco, I love you."

His beautiful green eyes had a short dart, then veiled as if he was about to cry, then he smiled and in a hushed, almost trembling tone, said, "I too love you, Matteo. I came here to tell you that, but didn't dare. 'Thinking of you', you wrote in your two postcards. I couldn't help but think of you too. Matteo, I need you, I need your love and to give you my love. Matteo what keeps us apart now?"

"Nothing more, you are right."

"Am I too young for you?"

"I don't care about age. Just eight years separate us..."

"And they would seem less and less..."

We stood and we embraced tightly. Finally our bodies felt for each other, searched for each other, filled with emotion and pleasure. Then our mouths met and we united in a long, tender kiss.

I felt his erection awakening, pushing, brushing against mine.

"I was afraid... I thought that this day would never come..." he whispered.

"I made you suffer, Marco."

"Yes, but now all is over, it's all ended. It was worth it, because I now know for certain that mine was not just infatuation as you once said."

"I know, I always knew it. An infatuation would not have lasted for almost three years. It might have been like that in the beginning I think, but then... you can't imagine the joy I am feeling having finally surrendered to our love..."

"Did you say 'Do you think I can't imagine'? I would say I can, because I feel the joy in me and because you are making me feel it with all our body."

I then seized his hand and guided him to my bed. We undressed each other, as if in slow motion. We made love, each lost in the discovery of the other. God, how beautiful Marco is. What beauty his body holds, how beautiful his soul. Yes, our souls too because it was our souls that made love too.

"Matteo?"

"Yes, love?"

"Do you know that this is the first time in my life that sexual intercourse has meant more than just a fuck. Was it love for you too?"

"Yes, my love."

"Do you know that each fibre of my body, each atom of my soul is loving you?"

"Yes, love."

"Do you know that I never want to part from you?"

"Even if our bodies will be miles far away, we will never be separated Marco. Do you believe me?"

"Yes. I believe that"

It was difficult to leave the bed and dress again, to say goodbye, and see him leave We agreed we would meet again the following afternoon.

He called me that same evening. "My folk can hear me, so don't be afraid if I say weird things, but... I love you!"

"I too love you, Marco and I already miss you."

"What are you saying... will you dream of me, tonight?"

"I hope so."

"I'm so happy. I wish I was able to tell it to everybody, to put posters all around the city..."

"Posters... possibly it is better that you don't. But if you feel like telling your friends... no problem with me."

"Leo and Tony?"

"Tony is Leo's boyfriend, isn't he? Of course you can."

"Well, no. I want to give them a surprise. We will talk about it tomorrow. Of course it's alright. We can go to see if we find those books together tomorrow afternoon..."

"Are your parents nearby?" I asked, amused.

"Correct."

"So then it will be better we say goodbye, now. Plenty of kisses, my love."

"The same. See you tomorrow."

"Bye, my love. See you tomorrow. I love you."

"Thanks, the same to you. Bye."

I hung up the receiver and felt as light as a feather. I felt an enormous urge to dance, to sing, to have him still in my arms.

Yes, I had been right not to surrender to my sentiments as long as he was my student, but afterwards I had been more than right to stop refusing him. I thought of Arne and started to write him the letter I had promised him, and that I would end the day after with Marco. This would give him all the good news he was waiting for. One in which he had played no small part.

CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 7

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