The worm digger and I

He is a worm digger. I am a fruit picker. He is a white man, and I, a latino. He is carefree and self-employed, and I, just an illegal trying to live the American dream.

We ended up meeting by the bay. When our eyes met, we knew our lives would never be the same again. This is how our tale began.

My name is Carlos. I come from a South American country, Brazil--a third world country. I came to America to make money and if lucky, stay here and try to live the American dream.

My work is very simple. I pick apples from morning til evening. I work very hard to save as much money as I can.

Apples are gentle to hold but heavy as well. I pick each fruit, and put it into a cloth bag. When the bag is full, I deposit them into the back of a large cart, pulled by a tractor. When the season for picking fruit is over, I’ll do like the others, and dig ditches. It’s a dirty and heavy job, but they say the pay is good.    

Seldom do I have free time left. Adriano, Luan, and Manolo like to go to town on Saturday nights, to drink beer, cruise, and dance in low-reputation bars where people my kind go to. I stay home and try desperately to save every cent I can. I even scrub the bottom of a peanut butter jar with my spoon, mix water to my dish detergent, anything to save money. I also have a hobby to fill my time, something that doesn’t cost me anything.

Adriano gave me his used camera. The LCD screen was cracked and he wanted to sell his camera. As no one wanted it, he offered it to me. I looked at the Canon camera and returned it to him.

“I can tell you haven’t much saved, Carlos. Well, you can have it. It’s a gift.”

“Oh, thank you Adriano!” We hugged. I had tears in my eyes. He also gave me five blank DVDs for storing my photos.  

Now, in my free time, I take photos. Like I said, it’s a cheap hobby. When I want to download the photos, I borrow his old laptop computer. Then I record my photos onto a DVD. I pay $.50 for doing this. At first he didn’t want to get the money. But I said it was just fair, for I used his equipment.

One day, I heard that not far from here, there was a lovely place, where you could go by bike to fish. Many latinos go there secretly. I love fishing too. Maybe I could join the guys and find out more about this place.

My gay latino acquaintances are too tired or drunk to wake up early on a Sunday morning. Instead, I go there with Bernardo, a stocky quiet man. He likes catching birds and building wooden cages for them. He says that back in Venezuela he had many birds and used to make a living by selling them. He also said he left Venezuela because, well, during the fight, he had to defend himself and, the man tripped and ended up breaking his own neck.   

Once, he gave me a nice little cage and a shy smile. I thanked him and took a photo of him. He looked at the screen and smiled. He said he was looking older now.

Adriano said that Bernardo was interested in me. “I don’t think so, because he likes girls,” I said. He’s got many cheap adult magazines at his place. Once I saw him entering the bathroom with a magazine. We all use the same collective dark bathroom.  

“Carlos, you’ll like this place. We can catch fish and cook them, like the Americans do.” I remain quiet, peddling and worried not to damage the bike I borrowed from Adriano.

We get on a beautiful road with flowers all along it. Then we reach the forest, which Bernardo tells me, hides the bay. I nod. We hide our bikes in the woods and take a walk in a long winding and slippery path.

“This is so beautiful!” I can hardly believe it. The bay! I take a photo and ask Bernado to take a picture of me. He doesn’t like to have his picture taken.

“We can go fishing, but we’d better watch for the Americans. If we see them, we’d better run, otherwise, you know.”

“Yeah, deportation.” This is the feared word among us. We walk along the bay and I shoot many photos. Suddenly, we hear noises. People are coming our way. Bernando and I hide.

“We’d better go home now.”

“Of course.” I don’t even turn around, in fear the Americans see us.

On the next Sunday, very early in the morning, I invite Bernardo to go to the bay again. He says he’s afraid of being deported and stays in his dark room. I can hear a girl giggling as he closes his door.

Anyway, I want to go there again. So, I borrow his bike and go there by myself. This time, I don’t seem to find the spot we took the last time. I just know the bay should be in the back of the forest. Then I hide the bike and walk into the woods. Big mistake!

The big stones and rotten fallen branches of trees make the walk almost impossible. I’ve obviously taken the wrong turn. Wherever I look, I see trees and rocks. Everywhere I turn to, looks the same to me!

This place is isolated and no one will ever find me. I start to tremble and sit on the ground. I wish Bernardo were here with me. I know I cannot shout for help, for the Americans will hear me. Nobody can know I am here. I begin to cry. Then I remember my grandmother’s teachings, “When you’re in danger, ask the Virgin Mary for help. She’ll surely help you if your heart is pure and your need is great.” I close my eyes and recite a silent prayer to the Virgin.

As I walk a long way up, I think I hear someone not too far from me. I have never been so happy to hear a human voice again! Yet, I must be careful. I brush some branches and see a white American taking a leak. My heart skips a beat. If he sees me, I’ll surely be deported. He’ll report me to the authorities!

The man is tall, strong, white, and he has a goatee. He’s also very hairy, for he’s not wearing a shirt. I think he must be in his early thirties I think. Someone calls his name.

“Bob, stop jacking off and let’s go catch worms!”

“Is that a way to talk to your boss, Rick!” Both men climb the truck and move away. Now I can breathe again. I can still hear their words vividly in my head, as I peddle my bike back to our shack as fast as I can.

“Did you see, boss?”

“What?”

“The authorities are paying for each illegal immigrant that you turn down to the police! That’s $1,000 bucks! Cash on the spot! This is much more than we get in this mucky job!”

“No way, man! They’re not doing no harm to us. We need fruit pickers and, well, worm diggers too. There’s plenty for everyone in America.” I wipe my tears as I peddle back home. I feel confused. I feel I need someone to talk to. That scene cannot be wiped away from my head. Yet, Bob was a kind man. I can tell he was different from the others.

“You’re already back?”

“Yeah,” I lower my head. “Thanks for lending me your bike.”

“Well, don’t tell me those cursed Americans were there again.”

“Don’t say cursed, for not every American is like that.”

“Ok.” We drink a lemonade and Bernardo talks about Caroline, the girl he met at the fruit plantation. He seems happy and talks about their future plans, and even marriage. I also think of Bob, the American guy I saw. But I know I cannot speak about him, for he is a man, and an American. My heart is nearly bursting with a new feeling I don’t know how to describe. I just know that this feeling started when I saw this kind man today.  

On the following weekend, Bernardo does not want to join me again. He also lets me use his bike. I know Caroline has spent the night with him at his place.

I peedle and reach the forest. All this time, I think of the events from last week. I mean, I think of the white American man, Bob. I wonder if I’ll ever see him again. Perhaps not. Suppose I see him; yet I know I can’t let him see me. I daydream of meeting this man again as I enter the woods. I hum a song so as to not feel scared of being here alone. It’s a church hymn that I learned in our old church. It tells you to hold God’s hand, for He’ll help and support you. Suddenly, I think I hear someone shouting. I panic. Could that have been a bird? No, it was clearly a man!

They must have seen me riding my bike on the road! My heart skips a beat. I throw myself on the ground and hear another cry for help.

Wait! Someone is crying for help. Or maybe it’s someone pretending to be calling for help, but in reality, cops ready to take hold of us, latinos!

Anyway, I listen again and, well, by his voice, I can tell he’s an American. He is not like us, who have an accent. Moreover, we always say  ‘God’, ‘Jesus’, and the ‘Virgin’, when we speak. I know I must run away at once, before it’s too late.

As I am making my way back to my bike, I hear his cries again. I know this time is for real. He really needs my help. But I just cannot help an American, otherwise, I’ll be in trouble.

What should I do? I kneel down and start praying for this man. I’m sure the Virgin will protect and take care of him herself.

I am about to make my way back, when I hear his loud cry for help. I take a deep breath and turn around. I need to help this man! I feel the Virgin is telling me to trust in her and do what is right in my heart.

After a brief pause, I hear him and look around. Then I see a sort of cliff, but not so deep. It’s a sort of large hole. To my surprise, I find the same man from last week, Bob. I could be mistaken, for almost all Americans look the same: blue-eyed, tall, big, and hairy. I think he must have slipped as he stepped on some loose stones and fell into this small precipice. Even though this place is not too deep, he might have broken an arm or a leg. I get close to the edge. He sees me and our eyes meet for the first time.

“Thank God someone is around!” He is covered in dead leaves and dirt. “Help me, please!” I don’t say a word and try to get to where he is. “I slipped and fell into this hole. I don’t feel I’ve broken anything but, I cannot move my legs.” I can see from his eye that he’s much relieved to see me now.

“I-I’ll see what I can do sir.” I see no sign of blood on him. I feel for his strong muscular legs. Nothing, no broken bones. I offer him my hand and help him get on his feet. He’s a heavy man, but not chubby, just a strong one.

“Oh, boy! Can’t believe this happened to me.” His lips are trembling and so are his big hands. “Say, let see if we can make it to the truck. I need a warm coffee right now.”

“Were you here a long time, sir?”

“No, I guess half hour.” I notice he’s got a minor cut on his head.

With much effort, we manage to come out and reach his truck. He gives me his keys. I open the door and take the large thermos with coffee. I try to open it but cannot, for I’ve never had a thermos this beautiful in my life. He gently shows me how to do it. His large hairy hand brushes against mine. I then pour the hot drink and offer it to him. He drinks quickly and smiles.

“Better drink in the world! Mind you, my coffee is the best one around here!” He smiles for the first time. He offers me some. I sip and burn my lips and tongue. “Careful! Now you won’t be able to speak for the entire day! Hahaha!” We both laugh. “Say, you saved my life young man.” He puts his heavy hand on my shoulder. I smile and then, point to his cut on his head. He takes his first-aid box and I help him dress his cut. “Ouch! Damn this cut!”

“You’re lucky it’s just a small cut, sir.” I really admire his beautiful deep-blue eyes looking at me.

“You can call me Bob. By the way, what’s your name?” I look down. I feel his heavy hand on my shoulder. “I see. You’re a latino, aren’t you?” I nod. I feel as if I should run, now that Bob is ok. And yet, I feel his warm presence much comforting. I turn around and wipe my eyes. “Hey, you’re crying! Don’t cry, hey, come here.” He wipes my tears away, but more keep on coming.

“My name is Carlos, sir.” I feel bold, but I cannot stop my tears from falling.

“Bob! Call me Bob, if you don’t mind, my sweet angel.” He smiles. I look up and meet his kind deep-blue eyes. I can tell he is being sincere.

“I-I saw you last week, sir, I-I mean, Bob…”

“You did?”

“Yeah, you and your friend.”

“Sure, he’s my partner. We catch worms together and split the money.”

“Bob, will you turn me down to the authorities?”

“And what makes you say that?”

“I-I heard you talk about the money. A thousand bucks is a lot of money, Bob.” I look down again.

“No, why would I do that? You’re my sweet angel and saved my life!” I force a polite nervous smile. “Here, drink some more, but be careful this time not to burn your sweet lips and tongue.” I blow my coffee and sip. “Now you feel better. Well, like I said, you’ve just saved my life and I owe you one. And that means, I won’t hand you in. Actually, an idea just occurred to me now. Say, would you like to make a few bucks and catch some worms with me, my sweet angel?”

“But, are you’re ok? I mean, shouldn’t you go to a hospital to have your legs examined?” He shakes his head.

“I’ve never felt so well in my entire life. I’m a tough guy. Anyway, my partner didn’t come today and I really don’t want to waste a day’s  worth of worm money. And this way you can know the bay and I can show you my secret spots. What do you say?” I cannot hide my excitement.

“In this case I accept.”

“Good, one thing is for sure, I’m not going back to that place by myself! I need someone to go with me. For you never know what can happen to you. Even to a big guy like me!”

Bob helps me to put on the long rubber boots. I manage to walk clumsily, but after a while, I can even run on a pair like those! Then we head towards the bay. The view is just lovely and I gasp in excitement. Bob takes my hand as we enter the muddy area. My hand is small, and his are big, warm, and hairy. Then my feet get stuck, but Bob teaches me how to go about on the mud. He also gives me a tool with long teeth and teaches me how to dig and find worms. I find it really amusing for the mud is soft and there are many worms around. And in no time, we find many!

On our way back, Bob’s leg gets caught and he falls in a muddy pool.

“Damn it! Now I’ll have to take a shower again!” I help him get up and we go up to his truck. “I’m starting to get cold. I’d better strip and put on some fresh clothes.

He shows me a large gallon of water. He’s going to use it to shower. He lifts it as if it weighed nothing. Then he tells me to control the flow by holding the neck and covering the mouth with my hand.

He loses no time and removes his shirt, exposing his massive hairy pecs and strong arms. He removes his dirty jeans, and stays in his white cotton briefs. I notice the large member under his garment. Finally, he removes his socks.

“You can let the water out, my angel.”

As he is taking his shower, his hair sticks to his white body and I admire him all the more.

Inevitably, I cannot help but notice his large manhood under his briefs. I also notice his massive hairy thighs and calves. His feet are big and hairy too.

“That’s it, my angel!” He raises the big water gallon and takes a towel to dry. Then he puts his towel around his thick waist.  

“What about some more coffee, Carlito?” We both smile as he shakes his head and sprinkles water all over us.

“Stop it, Bob! I don’t need to take a shower as badly as you.”  

As we finish our drink, Bob insists I go with him to the place he sells his worms to: Betty’s Bait Store. He says the owner is his friend and will never do anything to hurt me. I feel afraid, but I know Bob is a man who keeps his words. I end up accepting and we climb on his truck.

The ride is pleasant, for I see the other side of the bay and the wide open area, where us latinos would never dare to cross. I see many trucks and lots of people entering a big store. A sign says they have bait for sale. I help Bob carry his buckets into the store. He seems to know everybody there. He is also a very smart dealer and gets some good money for his catch: $360.

Back to his truck, he offers me half the money, which I of course refuse. He insists and I end up accepting $50. I don’t want to take out his money, for I know he’s got his own expenses to pay. He drops me by the woods. He takes my hand and smiles to me.

“You’re my guardian angel, Carlito. I’ll never forget what you did for me today.” I smile. “So, be here next week! Same time!” I smile and wave to him as he drives away.

The ride back home is pleasant. I feel confident and realize that I’ve gained something else, more precious than this $50 bill: the realization that friendship can happen, even between an illegal latino and an American citizen.

“You didn’t catch anything, did you, Carlos?” Bernardo asks, while smoking a cigarette.

“No, I didn’t. But I’ve got something to tell you, Bernardo. As I went to our place by the woods today, I saw an American man.”

“Ok. You’d better keep away from them. They only mean trouble.”

“Do you think all Americans are the same?”

“Of course they are! We’re here in their country, taking away their jobs, making our money, and being illegal. They have all the reasons in the world to hate us!” Caroline comes out and Bernardo gives her a kiss. “She’s the only American I can trust.”

“I’m Mexican, you fool! My mother is Mexican, and a housekeeper. My dad, her big boss, is Texan. He just had fun with her and when he got bored, he told the authorities to take her away. In the meantime, I was born in Mexico.”

“See, Carlos. This is how Americans will treat you. And look at her, she’s got American blood running in her veins, and see how she’s been treated!”

On the following week, very early in the morning, Bernardo finds me fixing my things on Adriano’s old bike. 

“Going fishing so early in the morking, Carlos! And you didn’t invite me?”

“Well, I thought you and Caroline,” Bernardo now fixes his bike.  

“Well, you might have already heard, but, Caroline was a sweet pretty girl. She went to this bar and, this American guy came to her, and paid her a drink. He touched her and she slapped him on the face. There was a fight and some cops came.”

“I-I’m sorry to hear that.”

“But I think she’ll try to come back to America again, though it’ll be much harder for her.” He lights a cigarette. “Well, at least, now I am free to go fishing and catch my birds.”

“I-I don’t think I’ll go with you today, Bernardo.”   

“No? But you’re up so early! Where are you going then?”

“Bernardo, I’m going to catch worms with, Bob.”

“What?”

“Last week, well,” I explain to him the whole story. Bernardo sits on a stone.

“Carlos, this guy is going to be waiting for you with cops! He’s no fool. Who doesn’t want to get $1,000? Mark my words! This Bob is just like any other Americans!” Bernardo enters his unit and slams the door. I call him back, but he doesn’t come out.

I persist and knock on his door. It’s pointless. I think of Caroline, Bernardo, the cops, and Bob. I cannot do this to Bernardo; to pay bad for what good he’s done to me. At the same time, I know Bob is going to be waiting for me. I feel sorry for my kin, working here, in this land of riches. I feel I don’t deserve anyone’s trust and friendship anymore.

I look at Bernardo’s small cracked window. He’s drawn the curtains up. I have nothing more to do here. I hesitate and walk aimlessly towards my bike. There’s only one thing left for me to do.

As I ride my bike, I feel this anguishing bittersweet taste in my mouth. I feel sad for losing Bernardo’s friendship, but also anxious to meet Bob. Maybe Bernardo was right when he shut me off his house. I don’t deserve his company anymore. I’ve already made up my choice. I surely deserve to be deported, just like Caroline.   

As I continue peddling, a police car races past me and disappears at the distance. I have to stop for a moment and wipe my tears. There’s still time for me to hide behind a bush. Perhaps go back and tell Bernardo he was right in the end. But something, in my heart tells me to go on. Whatever happens, I must trust in him.

I continue peddling. As I reach the forest, far at the distance, I see his truck. I peddle faster and my heart beats happily. I don’t care if the cops are there, hidden behind the bushes. At least I’ll take a last look at him. Then I can live a happy life back home, knowing we did have some good times together before the betrayal. I see him waving and bitting a grass stem. I smile and wave.  

“Carlito! Nice to see you again!” We hug. “You’ve been crying?” He wipes a tear from my face. I nod.

“Bob, I must tell you something.” He spits out the grass stem.

“Sure.” He looks down and we both sit by the edge of the empty road. This man looks bigger when he’s sitting.  

I tell him the whole story. I talk about Caroline, Bernardo, of his slamming the door shut and drawing up his curtains. I even mention to him the scare I got seeing the police car race by me on the road, and also fearing a betrayal.

As I tell him my story, I feel his strong hand on my shoulders. He kisses my head and I see a tear in his eye too. This strong confident man, crying because of my stupid tale, of our misfortunes, which have nothing to do with his distant world.  

“I-I really feel sorry for Caroline. I really do, my Carlito.” He purses his lips. “And I understand how your friend Bernardo must be feeling. And by no means, you’re not betraying your kin, Carlito. You’re just being caught between realities that are quite harsh to live in.” I nod silently. “But what has hurt me the most, was that you thought,” he looks away. I put my hand on his big shoulder.

“Bob, intimately, I know you’d never do such a thing. The Virgin told me to trust you.” He turns to me and smiles.  

“Then you made the right choice by trusting the Virgin, my friend.” I nod. “You’re also a great friend, Carlito. And a decent one, to open up your heart and share your feelings with this stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger to me, Bob. You’re also a friend, if you allow me to call you that.” He grins.

“I’m glad to hear that, Carlito.” We embrace and I feel my heart at peace. Deep inside, I know I’m doing the right thing. I just hope that Bernardo may one day understand the way I feel about this whole situation.

   “Well, are we going to catch worms today or not, Carlito?” We both smile.

Bob and I go to another secret spot of his. On this particular one we find a lot of worms. At the bait store, he amasses $415! All people’s attention are turned to us. He says he’s got the exellent catch because of my help.

He then says he wishes to celebrate by taking me to his place. He warns me that his house is old and dirty, for he is a bachelor. His older brother used to live with him but they used to fight all the time; then he left.

“You see, Jeremy is a cop and a year older than me. So, he thinks he can boss me around, “Bob do the dishes! Bob clean up the toilet! Bob bring me a bottle of beer! Bob, the laundry pile is getting high and I have no fresh underwear to put on!’” He stops the truck by some rusty gate.

“Bob, what does this sign mean?”

“KEEP OUT, PRIVATE PROPERTY? It means, keep you ass out of my property if you’re not invited.”

“Oh, I see.” After we cross the gate, I see in the back, among green lush tall trees, his large old house. “An American house!” I gasp. He chuckles.

“Yeah, what did you expect, a German house? Ahahahaha!”

“There are two floors! You must be rich, Bob! And you said you live here alone!”

“Me rich? You’ve got to be kidding me, my friend! A worm digger and construction worker like me barely make ends meet.” He chuckles. “I bet you make more money than I do picking apples and other fruit, Carlito!”

“Me? I think I get paid well, but, we get discounted a lot, Bob.”

“Fuck! I bet those job coyotes exploit you, don’t they?” I nod. “Anyway, you’re right I live like a king in this big place. Better thing in the world! You can shit with your door open, walk in your briefs or naked in the house, burp, and no one to bug or boss you around.” He stops the truck.

“Your flower beds need water, Bob.”

“I know, Carlito. But hey, I’ve got two jobs and have no time for even showering or wipping my ass!” I begin to laugh. “What’s so funny, Carlito?”

“You said you’re so busy that you don’t shower or wipe your ass! Ahahaha!”

“Hey, I like to see you laughing!” I also notice the cobwebs on the ceiling, walls, everywhere I turn to. The old couch is covered in dust. The front porch is filled with dead leaves. “Come in! You don’t need take your shoes off!” He opens the door and we enter his large and dark living room. I can hardly believe how big it is.

“An American house!”

Seldom have I been to an American house. Only once, when I was told to fetch wood for this American family who was in charge of the workers. But I wasn’t allowed to go inside. But I saw through the window their beautiful living room. Other than that, only in the movies.

Bob then invites me to his large and messy kitchen. He washes his hands in one of the two sinks he has! I also wash, and he hands me a dirty tea towel to dry my hands.

He opens his fridge and I gasp, for I have never seen so much food. I look around the wall covered in cupboards. In one he opens and takes out a porcelain plate. I see stacks of them. I gasp as I see its full contents: saucers, cups, bigger plates, bowls, even porcelain teapots. He opens another one and I see a lot of silverware, knives, forks, spoons, spatulas, ladles, tongs, skewers. He takes a large tin and takes a loaf of bread and cuts in thick slices.

He prepares a large sandwhich. He puts roastbeef, cheese, mayo, mustard, pickles, a lettuce leaf, and tomato slices. He hands me my plate of sandwhich and I cannot believe how big that is. He hands me a glass of milk and we sit by the messy kitchen table. He eats in big bites and smiles. 

“Aren’t you eating, Carlito?”

“This sandwich is too big for my mouth, Bob.” He chuckles.

“No wonder you’re so slim. You’ve got to open your mouth like this!” He opens his big mouth. I bite my sandwich and feel the delicious taste. It taste so much better than the cheap bologna and sliced bread kind I always eat at home. One slice per sandwich. The package then lasts me a whole week. When I’m lucky, I have a cup of instant noodles. I chew the soft tasty bread, the sauces, and the pickle. “Do you like it, Carlito?” I nod, chew my food, and swallow.

“Yes, Bob.” I explain to him what I usually eat at home.

“What? Two slices of industrialized bread and a slice of bologna? No mayo, mustard, pickle, lettuce, tomato?” I shake my head. “And what do you drink? Apple juice?” He chuckles.

“No. I drink tap water. But they said it’s not good, for the water tank is not clean. But I boil it first. I can’t afford to buy juice.”  

He finishes his sandwich, while I’m still in the middle of it. He takes an apple pie from the fridge and a pot of cream.

“I hope you still have some space left for dessert in your big bird’s stomach, my little friend.” He slices his pie and puts some cream at the top. He then brews some coffee and pours that in a large mug with milk and sugar. He eats and drinks merrily. “How old are you, anyway, fifteen?” He drinks his coffee and has cream on his moustache. I take a cloth and dab it for him. He chuckles. “You’re like my mother, Carlito!” He chuckles again.  

“I’ve just turned eighteen last month.”

“Holy fuck! You’re just a child! Oh, what manners! Congratulations on your birthday, Carlito!” He gives me a big hug. “Oh, boy! When I feel you in my arms, you’re so slim and small. You’re so vulnerable and fragile, Yet, you’re strong and courageous. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here, so far away from your loved ones. I really admire you for that. By the way, where’s your family? Are you here on your own?” I shake my head.  

“I’m from a small poor town in Brazil.

It’s hard to find jobs there, and we’re scared of violence. I have four brothers; my two older ones were killed by drug dealers.” I look down.

“Where they involved in trafficking or smuggling drugs?” I nod.

“Smuggling it, Bob. They had no choice. Mom and dad were desperate and wanted to send us abroad at all costs. My little sister was too young to come. So, they managed to borrow some money to give to a famous coyote, who especialized in working with illegal immigrants. With the little money I got from the sales of popsicle, bananas, candies, and recyclables, we got part of the money. But this coyote said I could pay to his company when I got to America. I came with some people from my town, but we all got separated. Some travelled in the back of trucks, boats, trains. Anyway, I have only one good friend here, and his name is Bernardo. I know other people, but they never stay long in the same place, you know.”

“Jesus, what a mess! I know as a fact there are lots of illegal workers all over America. But hearing that from one, about your struggles and stories, gives me a different perspective, Carlito. How long have you been here?”

“It’s been almost a year. I-I haven’t spoken to my folks for that long. We only send each other letters, which is cheaper.”

“Christ! You can’t be serious? I haven’t spoken to my brother since yesterday, and I’m already missing that son-of-a-gun! He’s my only family around. Both my parents are already gone. We have no contact with our relatives. Jeremy sometimes gets invited to a cousin’s place. They wouldn’t want to see me. Not after I broke that son-of-a-gun’s nose and lower jaw.”

“But why did you do that, Bob? Isn’t he part of your family?”

“Part of my family my ass! He called me a fag and I taught him a lesson. Anyway, except of Jeremy, I’m almost flying solo, just like you, my friend.” At last I finish my sandwich. “I don’t suppose you have room left for dessert, do you?” I shake my head. “Good, now we’d better wash ourselves. Otherwise, how are we going to take a nap.” He calls me upstairs.

The stairs are wide and I gasp as I see so many paintings on the wall. He walks along the hall and opens his bedroom door. I cannot believe how big his bedroom is! I touch his large unmade bed and the soft sheets. I look at his night table, chairs, large mirror, large closet, a dresser, a mat, lamps, a ceiling fan. He opens another door and says it’s his bathroom.

“You have your own bathroom in your bedroom!” He chuckles again.

“Well, yeah. I guess this house must look like a mansion to you. Do you like it?” I nod.    

Then, he proudly says there are four bathrooms in the house! He calls me and I enter the large lit bathroom. I cannot believe it when I see a bathtub, a large stone sink, golden faucets, a large mirror, a shower place, a lot of bottles of cologne, shampoo, cream, conditioner, shaving cream, shaving lotion, Vaseline, and other toiletries. He turns to me and remains serious.

“Do you want to shower with me, Carlito?” I feel his large hairy hands on my shoulders.

“Yes, Bob.” He removes his stained white cotton sleeveless shirt. His arms, shoulders, and neck are hairy and tanned. His heavy muscular chest is white and covered in hair. His belly is large and also white and hairy. He helps me remove my own brown shirt. He licks his lips and smiles. He then undoes his buckle. I like the silver buckle and notice the cowboy pattern on. One day I hope to buy a nice belt just like his one.

He undoes the button of his denin pants and lowers his zippers. I look at his stained jeans. I bet it’s the original model, and not the thin cheap kinds we get back home. He lowers his jeans and shows his large stained white briefs. I notice that everything in his body is big. He lifts a leg then the other, but remains in his stained white socks. He lowers his large briefs and I notice it’s partly soiled. I look at his cock and gasp.

“Your cock is different, Bob.” He chuckles.

“What do you mean, different?” He takes the long fat sex and gives it a shake. He also holds his large balls. “Let me see yours then!” He folds his arms and smiles. I feel conscious of him watching me strip. I bet he’s already figured out my jeans are just a cheap imitation. I drop my thin old jeans, and my briefs. “You’re uncut! Like most latinos! Ahahaha! That’s what you meant by different!” Now I understand the difference.

“Why are you looking at me funny, Bob?”

“You’re so young and slim. C-can I touch you?” I nod. “Do you want to touch me too?” I nod. “Then why don’t you touch me? Don’t be shy, here, feel my chest, and belly.” He licks his lips and moans.

“You’re a big man, Bob. You have a big neck, your shoulders are so big. You arms are very strong. And your chest is so strong too.” He approaches me and takes me in his arms. I feel his warm firm body pressed against mine as he kisses my head.

“I-I guess I’m a faggot after all. But who wouldn’t, having a young naked angel, ready to be taken.” He smiles. “You don’t want to kiss me, boy?” I smile and kiss him lightly on his mouth. He takes my cheeks with both large callused hands and kisses me again. I feel his large tongue invading my mouth. As he embraces me again, I feel his cock pulsing and pressing hard against me. My cock also responds and it also gets hard. It’s the same burning feeling I have when I jack off at home, thinking of Bernardo. “Shall we take a shower, my love?” I smile.

“I like it when you call me love.”

“And you don’t love me?” I smile and shake my head. “No?” He frowns his thick brows.

“I like you, as a friend. Bob. And the first time I saw you, I couldn’t take you out of my mind. The second time that we met, when I helped you come out of that hole, I just realized that I could become friends with an American. Then, back to fruit picking, I was happy for I had met a nice American man. I knew then that not all American people were mean. I felt proud of being with you. I felt I would suffer if I ceased seeing you. I missed you all week and longed to see you again.”

“Oh, Lord! So you thought about me!” I nod.

“Yes, Bob. But why do you say you love me? We can never be together. We can never be like those people in the movies, who fall in love with each other, then get married.” He chuckles.

“You’re already thinking of marriage, Carlito?” I look down. He clears his throat and apologizes. “I’m sorry, Carlito. I didn’t mean to sound disrespectful and hurt your feelings.” I nod.

“Bob, when I was in Brazil, I grew up with the other kids, playing on the streets. Then I used to see teens holding hands. Once I saw them kissing, just like in the movies. Then as I became a teen myself, I also used to dream of meeting someone special, going out together, having ‘quentão’ during the cold nights.” I explain to him quentão is a drink made of sugar cane liquor, sugar, cinamon stick, clover, and ginger heated in a pan. “Then we would visit each other’s families, go to church together, get engaged, get married, and then, have sex.” He looks down and folds his arms.

“We also do these things here, Carlito.” He smiles. “I suppose you’re the old-fashioned type, which I find very special.”

“But some people in my town skip some of these steps and just wish to have fun and sex before they get married. And some never get married.”

“You mean, have fun and sex for the sake of it, just like I’m proposing to do to you?” His voice dies down.

“But with us, it’s something special. You’re an American, I am a Latino. We come from different worlds. And our future is very uncertain. In my heart, I feel you’re,” I look down. He lifts my chin. “You’re the right man for me, Bob. You’re different and kind.” I smile.

“And you’re just the sweetest child I’ve ever met, Carlito.” He grins and strokes my face. “In the past I used to think of girls, just like my brother. But I never got to go out with them, for I felt too clumsy and shy. My friends think I’m just shy, an introverted, a homebody. But, intimately, I’ve always known that I’ve loved young boys. And the first time I saw you, I felt like a hungry wolf before his easy prey.” He shakes his head. “I felt I needed to grab and take you by force. I wanted to just make you do things for me, rape you, and abandon you by the ditch. But then, I saw how fragile and innocent you were. It wouldn’t be acceptable for a big man like me to do it. I also have my conscience and morals, Carlito. And yet, you see, I’m a dirty, isolated, clumsy, and idiotic man in American standards. No wonder my brother is always pulling the wool over my eyes.” He takes a towel and covers his big waist. Then, he takes another one and covers my body. “I must confess something to you, Carlito. Oh, boy, have I suffered with you in my head all night long. Just last night, I’ve came in my briefs three times in a row in bed, thinking of this moment. Oh, boy! I suppose I’m cursed. You’ve cast a spell on me. I can’t take you off my mind.” He smiles while his tears begin to fall. He then kneels down and hugs me. “Carlito, please, don’t say you have no feelings for me. I wouldn’t be able to take it. It would break my heart to see you go and become indifferent to me. I’d feel sad, lonely, and would not be able to love anybody else in the world.” I kiss his head and ask him to stand up.     

“Bob, can you take me back to the forest now, please?” He nods.

“Of course, Carlito. But, I’ll let you shower first, my friend.” He exits and closes the bathroom door. I shower quickly and dry. I hear him showering in another bathroom. I get dressed and open the door. Then Bob comes out of the other bathroom. He still has tears in his eyes.

We go downstairs quietly. Throughout our drive, none of us say anything.

“Will I see you again, my love?” Bob’s voice is low, and I perceive a longing and aguish in its tone.

“Bob, tell you what. Please, I want you to give me about a month to think about us.”

“Thirty days? For what?”

   “I want you to take these thirty days, and, think about what we’re doing, our risks, our lives, and the obstacles that will surely come ahead.” I cover his mouth before he says anything. “Don’t say anything now, Bob. In one month, in September I’ll be here on the first Sunday. If I meet you, I’ll know. If you don’t see me, you’ll also know, and you’ll be released.” He nods. I turn my back and ride my bike away. I hear his truck driving away. Not once have I looked back. I arrive at my unit at night.

“Carlos, where have you been all day?” Bernardo is worried. “Where you with your American friend again?” I nod. “I suppose you have no more time for your latino friends, do you?”

“Bernardo, I think I love him.” He enters his small hut and slams the door again.

The work is hard. Bernardo doesn’t want to talk to me. I keep on saving every penny I can. Only Adriano has seen Bob’s photo, the only one I have of him. I hold the printed photo and kiss it. I wanted to pay him for the photo. Adriano said it was a late birthday present. Bob looks proud holding his bucket of worms in one strong hand, and a fork with long teeth on the other. He smiles confidently and seems to be saying something. I forgot what he said then. Perhaps he didn’t say anything, I don’t know.  

On the following weekends, I realize Bernardo is going fishing or trapping birds, but I pretend I don’t see him going to that dear place. Instead, I stay home and confide my feelings to my small diary. I also pray for the Virgin to protect Bob.

I hear a few people talking outside. They’ve just come back from a party.

On a Saturday night, I ask Adriano if I can join them to this latino party. But I warn him that I’m not going to spend a penny there. I’m just going to watch. We all climb the back of a truck. Bernardo is surprised to see me there, and doesn’t talk to me. He is talking with this very young and beautiful girl, Vera. Adriano says she’s just sixteen. I go back to the truck and decide to wait for the boys to come back.

Then at the distance I see his familiar truck parking. He gets off and walks towards the beverage stall and buys a beer. Gosh, he looks so handsome, manly, and confident. He’s a big man and draws attention of a lot of young latinos, who wish to make some easy cash. He takes the hand of one acquaintance and goes back to his truck. Then they drive away. I shut the glass of the truck, for I don’t wish to listen to the music anymore.

He is pursuing his own happiness. But God, why can’t I?

As the boys return to the truck, I wake up.

On the following week, we work hard in the fields. Then something unexpected happened. Everybody is talking about it. “You don’t know what happened? The older bastard and Vera ran away!” I shake my head in disbelief. 

But it can’t be. Bernardo even left his bike in his hurry. Her folks are desperate but cannot do anything, much less call the police.

The boys are planning to go to another party on Saturday. As usual, I stay home, knowing tomorrow is the first Sunday of September.

I go to sleep early and wake up early. I clean my small lodging space, count the little money I have in my pocket, for the most part is in the hands of Mr. Ramirez, who says he’s sending it to my family in Brazil for me.

I prepare a simple bologna sandwich and eat it. I drink water and decide to take a nap. I then wake up at three P.M. I go out and sit under the shade. A few people are smoking and talking about their families abroad. A man plays his guitar and sings about his fishing town in Venezuela. I hear some people say that Vera is living in a far away town. They also say that Bernado is going to be a father.

At five P.M., my tears begin to fall for I feel part of me being torn apart. At seven P.M. I finally enter my small unit and prepare an instant noodle cup for dinner. I set my improvised table made of crates, and eat, not tasting my food.

At eight P.M. I hear voices of the boys outside. Then I hear a knock on my door. That’s very odd, for I never get visitors in the evening. Besides, we all retire early to bed, for we all got work to do early on the next day.

I open the door and it’s Bob! He is holding a small black box in his hand.

“Bob! How did you?” He has tears in his eyes. 

“I had to go to this latino party and talked to one of the boys. I paid him several beers and he ended up telling me where most workes lived. I-I’m sorry, Carlos, but I had to do it, for I felt afraid I’d lose you.”

“I-I saw you that night.”

“You can ask Juliano, Carlito. We just drank beer and I, just asked him information on how to get to you, then left.”

“Bob, I can’t do this. You have a beautiful life ahead of you, why just throw it away because of someone like me?” I wipe my persistent tears. “I can’t drag you to the gutter with me. You and I would suffer when the authorities found out I’m an illegal worker. Think of the pain when we are separated. I won’t be able to bear it.”

“I-I know, my love. This is why I’ve made inqueries. You see, my brother is a cop. I’ve already spoken to him about it, about us. He, well, the bastard laughed his head off when I told him I was a fag.” He bites his lips. “Well, he said in this State of Maine, gay marriage is legal. And to give you a green card, you’d have to leave America and apply for a citizenship while you’re in Brazil. It all takes about one month at the most, for my brother has connections in the police and immigration. Carlos, please, say you want to take this risk for me, for us. I’m most than willing to endure one more month away from you, but for a nobler purpose.” I smile and hug him. He lifts me from the ground.

“Bob, even if we were never to be together again, I’d never forget you.” I wipe his tears. He wipes mine. “And I am willing to take the risk.” I can hardly believe what I’m saying. He smiles and kneels down before me. He opens the box and smiles.

“Carlos, will you accept me to be your husband?” I cover my mouth and nod.

“Bob, I do!” He puts the gold ring on my finger.

My trip back to Brazil has been meticulously arranged. I turn around and wave, as Bob blows me kisses. His brother escorts me to the Hancock County-Bar Harbor Airport with my passport. The American Airlines ATR 72 turboprop engine takes off and I marvel at the lovely sight of the ocean and island. This short flight takes me to Portland International Airport.

There, I board the huge American Airlines airplane, which takes off at night for Brazil. I watch the city lights, and wipe my tears.

Bob, my dear Bob! Take heart! A month should go fast.

Feeling tired, I close my eyes and fall asleep. In my dreams, I hear a baby crying and his mother sothing him with a lullaby. When I open my eyes and look out the window of the airplane, the pilot announces that we’re already flying over Brazilian territory. Later on, we’re about to land in the Guarulhos International  Airport.

My parents and sister are waiting for me. I cry and hug everybody. My heart beats for them, and also for someone who’s so dear to me, and living so far away from here.

As instructed, I go to the American Embassy and hand in all the documents Bob and his brother had provided for me. They ask me for two weeks to process the papers.

Oh, dear! Though a month went so fast, it also felt like an eternity!

Now, with the proper documents from the American Embassy in hand, I’m ready for my new journey back to America.

“Son, you take care of yourself and honor this man, Bob. Send him our love.” Mom, dad, and my sister hug me.

The huge American Airlines plane takes off smoothly and I look at the lovely Guarulhos City lights. I close my eyes and cannot wait to see him again.

The flight is smooth and I doze off. When I least expect, the pilot announces our landing in Portland International Airport.

As I get off the plane, I pass through emigration with all the documents in hand. Soon after, I take the familiar American Airlines ATR 72 plane.

As it flies over Beals Island, my heart beats fast. We approach the ocean, and at last I see the runway. Thud! We’ve landed safely.  

As I get off the plane, my legs and knees are almost giving way. I feel the wind on my face and smell the ocean in the air. I walk towards the airport. I look for my luggage and follow the others towards the exit. The automatic door opens and Bob shouts.

“Carlito! Oh, God! My Carlito! My love!”

“Bob! Oh, Bob!” We hug and kiss. His brother also hugs me.

“Jesus, how can I get a latino boyfriend too?” Jeremy asks.         

“I missed you so much, my Carlito!”

After a bit over one hour on the road, I see the familiar country road. I smile as I see the large sign: KEEP OUT! PRIVATE PROPERTY! Next to another red sign: FOR SALE, and SOLD, in yellow, just overlaping the red sign.       

Later I need to ask Bob the meaning of this new sign. His brother drops us off and helps with my luggage. We hug him and he drives away. I wonder where Bob’s nice truck is.

“At last, you’re back, my love!” He carries my big suitcase to his house. My entire life and all that I own is in this old suitcase.

“Bob, I feel like I’m in the middle of a dream.” He smiles.

“Gosh, I don’t know how I managed to sleep in the past few days! I was so anxious to have you back! I was so scared they would deny you entry or you’d get cold feet and wish to turn your back on me.”

“I’d never do such a thing, dear.” I notice his house is dark, though it’s still morning. I notice a lot of papers on his dining room table. I follow him upstairs and he puts my suitcase on our bed.

“Carlito, I hope you won’t mind, but I’ve got to go back to work. There’s food in the fridge.” He hugs and kisses me on the mouth. “I shall be back by eight P.M.” I nod. We walk downstairs and he takes a helmet. I hear him riding his motorbike and wave.

As I am taking a shower, I think of my family so far away. I think of the hard farewell at the airport, the plane leaving Brazil for good, and smile. I open my eyes and turn off the hot water. I dry in a stained towel and notice a wilting flower in a small vase.

Poor Bob, he forgot to put water in the vase. I open my suitcase and get dressed. The house is still and quiet. I check his large closet and find the space assigned for me. I hang my few clothes I have: pants, shorts, T-shirts, shirts, and two pairs of shoes. I put a small portrait of my family on the night table.

My parents are smiling. Only my youngest sister is on mom’s lap. The rest of us are standing. I then look at Bob’s portrait, and pay attention to his beautiful mother, handsome dad, him, and Jeremy. They were still kids. I also take out a dear photo from my wallet. It is almost crumpling from so many kisses, talks, and prayers recited before it. He kept me company during these thirty days away from him. I stroke the photo and put it on the night table.   

I take a few food items I’ve brought along: Brazilian candies, so that Bob can taste them. I also have my small pink plastic rosary my Aunt Casuko, who is a nun, gave me. “Always trust in the Virgin,” she told me.

Then I put the empty suitcase temporarily under the large bed. I find a piece of paper under it. It’s hard to read, for the paper was crampled. I can make out some values scribbled in pencil. It lists his property and his passenger truck.

I take out my small pocket dictionary. I need to find out what FOR SALE and SOLD mean. I look it up for the word and read the definition. The penny finally drops and I close the dictionary.

Oh, my God! Now I know where he got all the money to pay for my round trip, all the expenses with the emigration, lawyer, and what-nots! Bob has basically sold everything he had to bring me back to America.

No wonder he’s working until late! As soon as he gets back, I need to speak with him about this. I’ll find a job and return him the money. Now that I’m basically an American citizen, I’ll work hard and pay him for every cent he’s spent on me!

He can’t go without his truck! In the fall and winter he won’t be able to get around! And where will we live after he sells his dear old family house?

As I have plenty of time in my hands, I begin to do some work around the house. I start with the kitchen. I scrub, wash, rinse, sweep, wipe, mop, and put everything away. I don’t think his stove and oven have ever got cleaned. Neither has his fridge.

I move to his living room and do a thorough job cleaning up everything. I do the windows and the window sills. I move to both bathrooms and do a thorough cleaning.

I collect a large pile of dirty laundry to do later. Before I stop for lunch, I take his towels, tea towels, wash cloth and underwear and soak them in a concentrated mixture of soap and water. Then I start scrubbing and using the old brush to wash each article thoroughly. His white briefs are all stained. I have a hard time to make them white again. Then I finally rinse and twist. I finish my first batch and carry the large plastic bucket to hang out the laundry. His towels now look spotless. His tea towels are now clean. All his pairs of briefs, ten in all are immaculate.

I leave his pairs of socks soaking in the soapy mixture. Then, I’m tackling the next batch later. I have a small sandwich and drink some milk for lunch. Then I have an apple.

After my lunch, I go back to cleaning this house. Now I tackle the stairs and the upstairs rooms. I dust, wipe, and vacuum. Then I go to our bedroom. I change the bedding and realize that even the clean sheets in the closet are stained.

I sort the sheets, pillow cases, and towels in a pile. I clean the windows, wipe the furniture, sweep the floor and mop. I move to the other rooms and bathrooms. I take a break and have some coffee in the front verandah.

Then, after my short break, I tackle his laundry again. I scrub his socks and wash them thoroughly. I hang them later. I also do the bedding and scrub them hard. Some, which are badly stained, I leave in the large bucket with a concentrated soap mixture. The rest I hang on the line. I just hope it won’t snap with the weight of so much laundry that I did this morning.

Just then, a car pulls on the road. I recognize his brother Jeremy right away.

“Hi, Jeremy, dear!” He shades his eyes.

“Jesus! Look at all my brother’s briefs and socks! Fuck, have you been doing his laundry all morning?”

“A lot of his clothes are stained, Jeremy. By the way, come in. I’ll make you some coffee.”

“Thanks.” He enters the house. “Fuck! What happened to this place?” He takes off his sunglasses. He inspects the furniture, the staircase, the kitchen, the bathrooms, the windows.

“Don’t tell me you did all this by yourself?” I smile and pour the hot water in the filter to brew his coffee.

“Yes, Jeremy. I had nothing to do all morning, anyway.” He smells the air.

“Wow, I can tell this is real coffee!” I hand him his mug.

“Yes, Jeremy. I’ve brought some fresh ground coffee from Brazil.”

“Jesus! This is what real coffee is supposed to taste like!” I offer him some cookies. “This kitchen is spotless! Look at this fridge! And the stove! None of them were ever cleaned before! Bob always wiped them superficially. Nothing like what you’ve done, Carlito!”

“Jeremy, I need to talk to you about something serious.” He eats a cookie and drinks his coffee.

“Yes, Carlito. What is it? You don’t want my sloppy brother anymore and wish to live with me instead? At least my house is cleaner. But not like this one.”

“No, dear. I need to know how much Bob has spent bringing me back to America. He must have spent a fortune in airline tickets and the legal papers to bring me here.” I tell him of the crumpled piece of paper that I found under the bed, and the SOLD sign in front of the house. He drinks his coffee.

“Well, I guess he won’t get mad at me if I told you this. Anyway, about the airline tickets, he didn’t spent much, if at all. I’ve got hundreds and hundreds of air miles and simply used them to get the tickets. You know what air miles are?” I shake my head and he patiently explain that to me.

“So, that takes care of the airline tickets. About the legal papers, well, I work for the police and have many contacts in government bureau. We got everything for almost nothing. The only part that Bob had to work hard was to, well, prove to the government that he could be your sponsor. He had to provide proofs that he had sufficient funds to support you here. So, what he did was something simple. He sold his car and the house to put the money in the bank. You see, as your sponsor, he is legally responsible for you and your living expenses in America. He has to prove to the emigration authorities that he has enough funds for both of you. This amount of money has to remain there for at least three months in the bank. This is how come he’s sold all he owned to get the papers ready for you. As the bank issues monthly reports to him, he hands them to the government authorities. After this period, he will be able to use this money to buy his car and house back again. He had to wreck his brains to find someone willing to do this for him. I couldn’t because I’m close to kin. But we had a friend who was willing to buy his truck, and later, sell it back to him. After much effort, he convinced his old boss to go along with his plan. Mr. Hunter then bought the house and signed all the papers for him. He did all this just in time. After an auditory in his bank account, he was granted permision to be your sponsor, Carlito.”

“Geez, Jeremy! I feel so bad for having being the reason for all this hassle and brain-wrecking experience to you all! I’m sorry, my friend!” He smiles and eats another cookie. 

“That’s all right by me. I’d do anything to make that mother-fucker happy and settled for life.” He checks his time. “Well, I’ve got to go now. I came here to drop off one of my trucks for him. He can drive it for three months until he buys himself back his old truck. I’m not charging that bastard a cent for that, only beers.” He chuckles. He thanks me for the coffee and cookies and drives his truck into the property. He takes his motorbike that was in the trunk and rides it away.

Geez, I cannot imagine how tough it must have been for poor Bob to come up with all these ideas to bring me back to America.

I collect his dry briefs and towels. Some of the sheets are already dry. I manage to scrub and make the remaining laundry spotless and immaculate. I hang them and bring the rest into the house. I look for the iron and find one covered in cobwebs. I hope it still works. I plug that in and surprise, it works! I iron his briefs, towels, shirts, pants, night shirts. I fold everything and put them away. I notice some of his socks have holes in them.

Now, where would I find his sewing stuff, if he has them at all? After checking for a while, I find them. I sit in the front porch and begin darning his socks. I also fix a few holes of a shirt under the armpits. I hear a motobike and it’s Bob.

“Hi, my love!” We kiss. He looks around as if in disbelief.  

“Hi, dear! Guess what? You brother was here again and brought you his truck!” He turns to the vehicle and opens a big smile.

“That son-of-a-bitch kept his word!” He inspects the truck. He opens it and takes the folder with documents and the key. He smiles to me. “I tried to come here earlier, but I was too caught up at work. Anyway, I suppose he’s told you everything, hasn’t he? I know how officers are and I also know that bastard!” I nod.

“He has, Bob! But don’t blame him, dear. I was the one who asked him about everything, dear.” I tell him about the crumpled piece of paper under the bed and the sign in front of his house. “Bob, I don’t know how to thank you for all that you’ve done for me to bring me to America.” We kiss.

“That was the least I could do for you, my love.”    

“Do you have time to have some coffee, dear?” He is looking at the huge amount of laundry left to dry. He looks at the windows and the clean verandah.

“Don’t tell me you’ve done all that on your own?” I smile and kiss him.

“Oh, yes, dear. I had nothing to do in the morning anyway.” I take his hand and enter the house.

“Holy Jesus! Look at this place!” He walks around and laughs. He enters the kitchen and I pour him his coffee and serve him some cookies. “Holy fuck! Even the fridge, stove, cupboards, everything is shining and spotless!” He cannot sit still and walks in the house with his mug of coffee. He climbs the stairs, admiring everything.

As he enters the bedroom, he sees the piles of freshly-ironed clothes on our bed. “Jesus! Look at my briefs! They look like they’ve just came out from the store!” He checks the bathroom. “How can a slim young man like you do all this in one day?”      

“Dear, it wasn’t so difficult. American houses are so easy to clean; the surfaces are smooth and dry easily. Not to mention the strong formula of detergent for the laundry that removes all stains.”

“Listen, my love! I didn’t want you to come here to be a servant, a maid, but my husband, remember?” I smile.

“Of course, dear.” His cell phone rings. He checks the call.

“I’m sorry, Carlito. I must go back to work. They need me there. Did Jeremy tell you about my owning a construction business?” I shake my head.

“No, dear.” He bites his lower lip.

“Well, I suppose he hasn’t had time to tell you everything. So, now I run my own constructing company. My old boss bought this house from me and also kindly offered me to take over his small business that wasn’t doing so well. He basically handed it down to me without charging me much. That means now I have to be on top of everything and run around like crazy. I’m going to earn incredibly more, for I’m taking in projects to build and repair houses.” He takes a cookie and moves to the door.    

“Bob, dear, I don’t want to see you working like crazy just because of me.” He kisses me.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be fine and you deserve the best. I’ll see you tonight for supper!” He drives away and disappears on the bend of property.

For the rest of the day I do some work in the yard. To my delight, I find an old abandoned vegetable garden! I clean it and pull out the weeds. I water the remaining plants and smile. I bring a large bucket and pull up some radishes and carrots. I pick up some cucumbers, green onion, parsley, tomatoes, kale, green beans, snow peas! I even find some heads of lettuce too!

What a blessing to have your own vegetable garden! I’ve always wanted to have one to cultivate plants, flowers, and veggies. Now I have one!  

By the time I return to the house, it’s beginning to get dark. Geez, what time is it? It’s seven P.M. already!

I collect the rest of the laundry. I’m glad that even Bob’s jeans dried! I have now two large piles of clothes to iron! I rush to the kitchen and start preparing dinner. I find some potatoes, veal, onion, and the greens I brought from the yard.

In no time, I manage to make a nice vegetable and meat cassarole and mashed potatoes. I also make a salad. At seven forty-five I see the headlights of his truck coming home. I check the meat and it’s basically done! Dinner is ready! I just didn’t have time to shower yet.

“Babe, your Bob is home!” He shouts.

“Welcome home, dear!” He smells the air.

“The house smells incredible, my love!” We kiss.

“It was just something simple that I made. You take a shower and I’ll serve dinner as soon as you you’re done.” He grins and takes my hand.

“I’ve got a better idea, my love.”

In no time, we’re upstairs in the bathroom already stripping. It reminds me of that time I came to his house for the first time. However, this time I feel ready and know this man well.

No sooner have we stripped, we begin kissing. I feel his strong warm hairy arms around me. I feel his broad shoulders, hairy back, furry barrel-chest, belly and hard cock. His tongue invades my mouth.

“Bob, I love you!” He smiles and looks into my eyes.

“Babe, I’ve waited so long for this moment! I love you too, Carlito!” He smiles. “Now, let daddy teach you a few tricks.” He smiles.

“All right, daddy.”

“On your knees, babe! Have you ever sucked a cock before?” I shake my head. “Fuck! How lucky I am to get you, my angel!” He stands in front of me, his feet planted wide apart. He folds his arms behind his waist. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, babe.” 

“But I want to do that for you, dear!”

“All right. But if you don’t like it, you can stop anytime, all right, my love? Don’t forget I’m Bob, you husband and won’t do a thing to hurt you.” I nod. “All right, now, all you’ve got to do is lick the tip of my cock. See it’s already oozing pre-cum. Yes, babe. Take it with you delicate hands. Don’t worry, it won’t break. Yeah, oh fuck! This feels amazing! Yeah, lick the mushroom head like a cat would do. Yeah, lick around the edges. And don’t worry, precum is not poison and won’t kill you. At least I haven’t heard of anybody dying from eating it. Fuck! Oh, yeah! Now, you can put it in your mouth. Just watch for your teeth, babe. You don’t want to hurt you daddy’s cock. Yeah, careful and, ohhh! Deeper. Try not to take in too much cock at once! Otherwise you’ll gag. Breathe calmly as you suck and use pressure. Yeah, grab my nuts. They’re big, I know. Yeah, pull them. You can also lick my big balls if you want. Fuck! Fuck! This feels amazing! I haven’t had someone blow my cock in a long long time!” He moans and gasps as I suck his cock.

“Oh, yeah! Don’t stop now, babe! Keep on sucking! Fuck! Fuck! Oh, FUUUCK!” He cries as his cock spurts jets after jets of hot semen! I don’t know what to do with it. “You can drink it, babe! Or you can spit it out if you don’t like the taste.” In doubt, I drink some and the rest, I cup in my hand. The problem is that his cock doesn’t stop spurting his hot semen. Then I decide to drink everything and lick his cock clean.

“Bob, did I do everything correctly?” Instead of answering me, he pulls me to himself and tongue-kisses me.

“I love to lick my own hot cream from your mouth, my sweet boy!” We kiss and I feel his large hairy and callused hand taking my hard cock. He looks into my eyes and smiles.

“Can big daddy have your cum too, babe?”

“I-I guess so, daddy. I’m sort of nervous and don’t know what to do. To be honest, this is my first time, Bob.” He kneels down and begins to suck my cock. I close my eyes and feel his thick lips and big tongue. He wraps his huge hands around my buttocks.

“Fuck! You’re an angel! Your fucking smooth body is so fresh, young, and pure!” Try as he might, I end up losing my erection. He stands up and smiles and kisses me.

“I-I’m sorry, Bob. I guess I’m too nervous right now.” He smiles.

“Chill, my boy! Daddy is ok with that.”

He turns on the water and we shower. He hands me the shampoo bottle and I wash his hair for him. I feel his scalp and gently wash his hair. Then he rinses and we kiss. I take the pink soap bar and I rub his muscular hairy body. He moans as I rub the sponge all over his broad back.

“That is just amazing, Carlito. You have such gentle hands.” He moans. I soap his buttocks, pubic hair, muscular legs, and big feet. I scrub his hairy firm buttocks. He tells me to wash his crack. I soap it and wash it. The I move to his forest of pubic hair.

“Take my junk, Carlito. Wash the glans and my balls well.” He moans as I take his big genitals. I scrub his hairy muscular and solid legs, knees, round solid calves, tough shins, and big feet. His toe nails are long and needs trimming. I shall do them some other time. Then he rinses his body. 

“Now, it’s my turn to wash your hair, my boy.” He smiles and pours shampoo on his big cupped hand. “Oh, boy, you’re a child!” He massages my scalp and hugs my wet slippery body. “A child from heaven! An angel!” He rinses my hair and we kiss. “I’m so fortunate to have found a real gem, a diamond!” I smile.

“You sound so poetical, Bob.” He embraces and kisses my head.

“That’s because daddy is happy, Carlito.” Then he takes the soap bar and sponge in hand. He washes my body. Then, he rinses me and runs his lips over my neck, back, chest, and moans in ecstasy.

“Now, I want you to feel my body. Yeah, run your hands around my neck, my chest, armpits, back, buttocks, dick, nuts, thighs. You can go lower if you want. Now, my boy, look into my eyes. With your gentle hand, take my big cock, feel how hard it is right now. See how you make your Bob’s dick hard?” He smiles and I smile too. “Let me take yours too, my boy.” He takes my hard cock and thrusts it gently. “Oh, I see that you’re hard again. Now, babe, what daddy wants you to do is, we’re going to thrust each other’s cocks simultaneously. I’ll thrust your cock with my hand, and you’re going to thrust mine with yours. Can you do that? Use both hands if you need to.” He looks into my eyes and smiles. He kisses me and moans. He grunts and whispers some obcenities in my ear. I thrust his cock while he is thrusting mine. Suddenly, I feel a strong feeling and the burning lust I have for this powerful big man just erupts without my expecting it. It gushes out and I moan. His eyes widen and he rolls them. He gasps and moans loudly. I moan too and feel his large hand thrusting my cock.

“Bob! Oh, Bob! I love you! YESSS!” I cum!

“FUUUCK! AHHH! YESSS!” He shouts and tongue-kisses me. He takes me in his arms and strokes my wet hair. “Daddy is quite proud of his boy! I’m so proud of you, my love!” We kiss. “I’m feeling exhausted now, but I’m feeling at the top of the world, my love!”

We rinse again and he cleans my cock, pulling back my foreskin. He says he wishes he also had his foreskin around the head of his big cock.

Then we come out and dry each other. He puts on his white cotton briefs. He says he likes to wear his briefs around the house. I put on my shorts and white T-shirt.

“Our first dinner together, my love!” He lights a small candle. I bring the vase with some flowers that I’ve picked earlier from the forgotten garden. He smiles and asks me to say grace. My eyes light up and I say grace and thank God for everything.

“You’re the only one who can make me pray and eat salad, my love.” He eats it and likes my dressing.

“Bob, dear! I can’t believe you have this land and the yard with the vegetable garden!” He smiles and takes my hand.

“This land, house, truck, everything is yours too, my love. In time, I’m going to see that we’re properly married. How do you like that?” We smile.

“That would be fantastic, Bob!” We finish our salad and I bring the veal and vegetable cassarole. He helps himself to the mashed potatoes and veal.

“Wonderful! What a delicious dinner you’ve prepared for us, babe!”

“I’m glad you liked it, dear.”       

“Tomorrow is Saturday. I’ll find some time and take you out to a big supermarket, a clothing store, and my own little office. It’s small and messy. But it’s my own business, and I feel proud of it. What do you say?”

“I-I can’t believe it, Bob! In the past, we only went to a hidden grocery store and at night. We were afraid of being caught and deported. I can’t believe this is going to happen! You’re taking me to an open public place during the day!” I have tears in my eyes.

“This is our new life, Carlito. And believe me, your Bob here is the one who’s getting the better end of the deal. For you’re a real angel, my love, quite rare to find.”

“I’m no angel, Bob. I’m just Carlos. And I feel eternally grateful for everything you’ve done for me. You’re a very special and noble man who keeps his word. I’m so lucky to be your lover, friend, and partner!”

We finish dinner and he helps me clear the table and do the dishes. As both of us had a long tiring day, we retire to our bedroom.

Bob says he’s sleeping in his briefs. I sleep in my shorts and sleeveless shirt. We lie in bed and I rest my head on his strong furry chest. He puts his arm around me.

“Good night, my angel, and welcome to your new home.”

“Good night, big daddy! And may the angels watch over our sleep and protect us, always.”

“Amem!” And he shuts off the lights.