Theodore kept an eye on the little ragamuffin who had been following him for at least twenty minutes. The young man—very young from the looks of it—tried to pretend as if he were innocent as pie while attempting to keep his furtive glances in Theodore’s direction to a minimum. His thumbs were hooked at the bottom of his lopsided suspenders and he idly kicked at an imaginary rock. The top button of his work shirt was missing, and when Theodore had almost managed to head him off at the end of one of the farmers market aisles, he’d noted that the blue was so faded, it had initially appeared gray to him. Another button had seemed as though it were ready to be set free and the edges of the boy’s collar were quite frayed.

His subject had quickly ducked out of the way as if it had been his intention all along to veer off toward another stall. But Theodore hadn’t missed the filthy bare feet, the smudge of dirt on his cheek, the tear in his dungarees… Or his mop of curly black hair and wide dark eyes, his sun-kissed olive skin. He carried a bit of the imp in the way he presented himself—despite his small stature—with an air of being in complete command of everything around him and the hint of a know-it-all. Despite the attraction Theodore felt toward him, he shoved it aside. The man who eyed him was not only up to no good, he might very well be too young for Theodore to think of in a non-platonic manner. And if he truly wasn’t an adult, he might need genuine help. There was a strong possibility that he lived on the streets.

Which is none of my concern.

So many young men and women roamed the boulevards and alleys of Hollywood, restless souls who didn’t seem to belong anywhere or to have any purpose. Perhaps there once was a time when their future had seemed to be laid out before them like a fairytale. Perhaps they’d taken the long journey from the other side of the United States to find their fortunes in the West. He’d certainly negotiated enough contracts for actors and actresses who had sprouted from humble beginnings somewhere in the middle of nowhere, then after arriving in California had found themselves the darlings of the studios.

Whether the fetching young man had once dreamed of coming to Tinseltown where he was certain his beauty would take him to the highest of heights, then crashed back to Earth when the fickle nature of the powerful men who lorded over Hollywood had crushed his hopes, Theo didn’t have time to get involved.

He was a very busy man. Once he himself had arrived in Los Angeles after graduating from Harvard, he’d been able to quickly establish a lucrative career as a legal advisor. His original journey to the West coast had involved a restful vacation in warm, sunny weather on the ocean shores. The subsequent one was when he’d stayed for good. Why suffer through the ice and snow of Boston and join his father’s law firm when he could have his own practice far away from the watchful eyes of his family?

“Excuse me, sir. But I do believe you dropped this dime.”

Theo gazed down into the big brown eyes of the very ragamuffin he’d been observing for several minutes. The boy batted his lashes as he held up his grimy hand to Theo—a shiny, silver dime resting on his palm.

Hmm. “I see.” Theo snatched up the coin and pocketed it, curious as to what sort of reaction he’d receive from the young man who was clearly up to some sort of grift. “I thank you kindly for your honesty.” Theo tipped his fedora then turned on his heel to stroll away. His new tagalong jumped into view after Theo had made it several steps past the bustling market.

“Beg pardon, but I thought it was a dang shame that a nice refined gentleman such as yourself ain’t got no friends.” He came to an abrupt stop which halted Theo’s progress. He rocked on his heels as he shyly peered up at him from under his long lashes. Theo held in a snort when he batted them again. He doubted that anything about the urchin before him was shy.

“You mean, I don’t have any friends.”

The boy furrowed his brow as he stuck out his bottom lip in seeming confusion.
“That’s what I just said. You ain’t got no friends. Are you thick in the head or something?”

“What I meant was…” Theo sighed. He didn’t have time for such nonsense. “My dear lad, I’ve been called many things, but never that.”

“Really?” The young man brightened up again and Theo noted with surprise that he’d begun bouncing on his toes as if he couldn’t keep still. “Like what? I’ve been called lots of things too. Sometimes folks are awful sore at me for stuff I don’t even understand, which means they must be wrong because it don’t make no sense. I know I’m kinda bad sometimes, but I ain’t no deevee…” He frowned again. “A deevee ain’t.” He snorted in Theo’s stead. “Whatever the tarnation that is.”

Oh my. “I see.” Theo considered the poor thing smiling up at him. “And who might have accused you of this deviancy? Someone you offered your friendship to who wasn’t appreciative?”

The young man nodded with great enthusiasm. “Oh yes. That happens all the time, so I have to run real fast before they whistle for a copper. But also my mama, her mean fella who kicked me out after he took the place of my papa, my older brother who beat me up when I asked if I could live there…” He scrunched his brow. “Hmm, let’s see. Oh! I know. There was also the ladies at the church who wouldn’t give me any soup, even though all the other fellas there get soup on mission day.” He tilted his head. “I never understood that. Why is giving soup a mission? Do you think they go on other missions? Maybe those missions have pieces of meat or candies. And I never meant to be a deevee ain’t, honest.” He slashed his finger across his chest twice to make an ‘X’.

Theo blinked several times as he tried to take in everything the clearly homeless youth had blurted out with nary a breath. He also found himself biting back acerbic commentary over how he’d been treated. Most likely, he’d been cast aside for being a lover of men.

“No. I know you didn’t mean to, and those people were wrong for accusing you of that.”

The young man’s eyes went wide. “Gee, you really think so? Cuz I don’t want to be one since everyone hates them so much. It’s not nice when people hate you. I don’t mean to make people hate me, no sir I don’t. I hardly ever steal and I don’t sock fellas or spit at them. I don’t say cussing words if ladies are nearby…” He sucked in a breath as he drew his eyebrows together. “Well, there was this one time, but she was yelling some very unholy words at me because she was being friendly with a fella behind the YMCA, and I—”

Theo shot up his hand, palm out. “That’s quite all right, no need to continue. I think I have the picture.”

“Are you mad at me?”

Theo shook his head in confusion. He also wondered why he was still conversing with the young man when he had much better things to be doing. He sighed to himself. Like what? All he ever did was work long, frequently boring hours or visit the mansion where his friend Saul had a secret social club that answered his own so-called deviant needs.

“No, I’m not mad at you. Why would you think that?”

“Because you had to stop me from all my blathering. Mama used to stuff dirty rags in my mouth to shut me up. ‘Blather, blather, blather,’ she’d say. ‘I can’t stand it,’ she’d say.” A shadow crossed the boy’s features. It was the first time he’d shown Theo anything but enthusiasm. “She couldn’t stand me.”

“There, there.” Theo cleared his throat. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

“She sure as heck did.” He broke into a smile, all signs of melancholy suddenly gone. “But you’re not mad at me and I’m glad. So can I be friendly to you now? It’s only a dollar and I can show you a private place where no one will catch us.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I’m very good with my hands and mouth, but I don’t do any of that other stuff and if you try to make me, I’ll kick you in the jewels so hard you’ll piss blood, so don’t get any funny ideas.” He narrowed his eyes. “You seem real nice and all, but I’ve been tricked before.”

Theo fought the uncomfortable feeling building in his gut. He was hardly a naïve or uninformed man. On the contrary, he was more than aware of the abundance of unfortunate people struggling to survive in Los Angeles. He’d never seen anything like it in the neighborhoods he’d been raised in or where he had spent his time as a youth. But Theo had reconciled himself to the fact that not everyone could be as fortunate as he was, so he tried not to think about it.

However, as he stared into the eyes of the young man who was offering to suck his cock or bring him to completion with his hands for a mere dollar, as Theo faced the reality that the boy would debase himself for an amount of money that wouldn’t even pay for a weekly room and one meal, that he’d likely have to do the same thing again that day to have both—Theo thought he might be ill.

And he’s relieved that I’m not angry with him. How many others in this poor man’s life had hurt him? Maybe not physically, but by being cruel? And yet, he stood before him with a smile that reached his eyes, as if just being alive was happiness in and of itself. Theo swallowed the emotion clogging his throat.

“Listen mister, if that’s too much, I can give you a discount. You know, because you told me I wasn’t a deevee ain’t and all. Seventy-five cents?” He punctuated the question with a happy grin.

Theo put his hand to his forehead. Even if they were at the edges of the outdoor market because the young man had been prudent enough not to approach him until he’d moved away from the crowds, Theo still worried that others meandering by might overhear.

“Would you care to have a seat with me on one of the park benches?”

The young man let out a loud guffaw. “You are thick in the head, if you don’t mind me saying so.” He brought his voice down again. “I can’t be friendly to you over there. It’s right out in the open!” Then he snickered behind his hand.

Theo had to admit it was a bit amusing, even though the consequences wouldn’t be the least bit funny. “You don’t need to be ‘friendly’ with me. I only want you to join me for a bit, get to know each other perhaps?”

He inclined his head to one side again. “Gee, are you lonely or something? Because I know how that is, yes I do. It’s not very nice at all. I guess I could sit with you for a little bit, but I don’t want you to think I’m being mean if I don’t stay for very long. I…” To Theo’s surprise, the boy’s cheeks reddened. “Well, it’s after noon and I still haven’t found anyone to take me up on my offer and I used my last nickel for a cuppa joe earlier.” He smiled. “But let’s go sit down first so you aren’t sad.”

A jumble of more emotions filled Theo’s heart. He couldn’t reconcile the boy’s circumstances against what seemed to be genuine concern for someone else. He must be running a grift. Trying to get me to lower my guard.

The young man furrowed his brow as he regarded Theo with careful scrutiny. “Yes, we definitely should. You look very blue and there’s no reason for you to be down.” He gave Theo a slight punch in the arm, grinning as he did. “Come on now, perk up! You have nice clothes and a spiffy motorcar and I bet you have a big fancy house too. Not only that…” Theo watched as he bit his plump lower lip and glanced down. He was back to kicking at the imaginary rock with his hands folded behind his back, his face flushing once more. “Well, I bet the fellas—and probably the ladies too—tell you all the time what a sheik you are, so I don’t suppose hearing it from the likes of me would matter all that much.”

“Don’t say that about yourself. You’re—” Theo’s voice cracked and he swallowed hard. “You’re a wonderful young man and you honor me with your kind words.”

The boy gasped, his eyes rounding. “Honor? I honor you?” He hugged himself and the hint of a smile danced on his lips. “Gee. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’ll sit with you on the bench for as long as you want. I like you and I don’t like anybody.”

Theo sucked in a deep breath. “Thank you, I appreciate your generosity. Before you join me, may I ask what your name is? Mine is Theodore Huntington.”

“Ooh, that’s a snazzy name. Mine’s Francesco.” He smacked his chest with one hand and grinned. “Francesco Rossi. Nice to meet ya.”

Francesco shot out his hand and grabbed Theo’s before he’d had a chance to react. He gave it an awkward shake, the action obviously not a familiar one. Theo slowed the gesture and gave Francesco a slight squeeze before letting go. He ignored the spark of lust that had briefly shot through him, as well as Francesco’s pronounced blush. He wasn’t about to take the boy up on his previous offer, so what was the point?

They made their way over the grass to the nearest unoccupied bench. Theo removed his hat as the breeze picked up and held it in front of him, worrying the brim. “Francesco. That’s a lovely name as well. You don’t have an accent, so I take it your family came to America a while back?”

Francesco shrugged. “I guess. Mama speaks one way, but Papa spoke another. I think maybe he hadn’t been here very long, but he left when I was six, so I’m not really sure. Plus, he sometimes talked in Italian which made Mama throw things at him. Then he’d throw stuff back and yell at her that she was a no good sleazy whore from the Bronx who would never amount to nothing.”

They arrived at their destination and Theo rubbed at his forehead as Francesco plopped down on the wooden seat. The more Francesco shared with him, the more his heart ached. He couldn’t grasp how Francesco could be so jolly despite his abysmal circumstances.

“Aren’t you gonna sit down with me after all that?” Francesco gazed up at him quizzically.

“Of course.” Theo joined Francesco and reclined against the back of the bench. “Tell me Francesco, when was the last time you had anything to eat?”

“Well, like I said, I had some coffee this morning. What did you have? Do you eat the same thing every morning, or do you try new things? I’ve always wondered what that would be like. Do you eat gruel?” Francesco pursed his lips. “I hate gruel. It’s disgusting. If we had enough money for breakfast, that’s all we’d ever eat. Mama was a terrible cook. If I lived the way you do, I’d never eat gruel and no one could make me.”

The thought passed through Theo’s head that Francesco would do well to learn some patience and manners. His parents had obviously been useless in teaching him how to operate in society—in addition to being useless in many other ways—and he suspected it was because they hadn’t had the slightest inkling how to behave either.

“I agree. I don’t eat gruel. However, I’d like to request something from you, a favor if you will.”

Francesco regarded him warily. “Will there be any funny business?”

Theo crossed his heart the way Francesco had done earlier. “No funny business. I promise.”

“Okay then.” Francesco tipped up his chin as he stared back at him with confidence. “What sort of favor could a mongrel such as me do for a fine society gentleman such as yourself?”

Theo resisted the urge to growl. The man before him didn’t deserve to have anyone show him anger ever again. “To begin with, please don’t refer to yourself as a mongrel. But what I’d really like is when you’re talking, could you pause after you ask a question and let the person you’re asking have a chance to answer? Do you suppose you could give that a try for me?”

Francesco’s shoulders fell. “I was blathering, wasn’t I?”

“That’s all right.” Theo fought the urge to wrap an arm around Francesco. “You’ve never been taught how to interact with other people in social situations.”

Francesco stared at him, his expression somewhat blank. “Did you mean I shouldn’t be allowed in polite society?” He nodded. “Boy, you hit the nail right on the head with that one. I’ve heard that from a lot of people before.”

“No, Francesco, that’s not what I meant.” Tears burned in his eyes, a phenomenon that hadn’t happened to him for as long as he could remember, perhaps not since he’d been a small boy. He swallowed them down. “I meant that it isn’t fair that you weren’t properly educated on how to have a conversation with others. The blathering, as you call it, isn’t your fault. But if you’d like to, you can learn how to control it better.”

Francesco’s expression clouded again. “I guess you don’t like me how I am. I’m sorry. I wish I was an educated fella, but if a dirty rag stuffed in my mouth for hours at a time couldn’t fix it, I doubt you can get me to change.”

“Oh, Francesco.” Theo wasn’t sure how much more he could stand of hearing about the events from Francesco’s horrid life before he really did break down into tears. “I don’t want to change you. You’re a very special man all on your own, and I do like you. I only thought that since you seemed unhappy with how you carry on when you speak, if it’s something that makes you feel self-conscious, or bad about yourself in some way, that maybe I could help with that.”

What was he thinking? Francesco was a stranger, a street hustler who would probably rob him given half the chance. He had no idea why he felt compelled to offer him any assistance.

Francesco chuckled. “Boy, you really must be lonely, mister. Helping me to talk better sounds boring as well as impossible.”

Theo barked out a laugh. “You might be right, Francesco. Maybe I’m quite lonely after all. Would you give it a try? You don’t have to, I won’t be angry with you if you’re not interested.”

Francesco tilted his head from side to side, his gaze traveling upward as if he were giving Theo’s request some serious consideration. At last, he returned his attention to him. “Would it make you happy if I gave it a try?”

“Yes.” Theo cleared his throat. “Yes, it would.”

“Okay. I’ll do it for you. I’d like to make it so you’re not sad.”

Theo cleared his throat again and absent-mindedly smoothed his thin moustache with thumb and forefinger. “And why is that, Francesco? What difference does it make to you whether or not I’m unhappy?”

Francesco shook his head slowly. “I’m not sure I understand you very well. Don’t you know it’s not nice when people are sad?”

Theo inhaled deeply as he became more desperate to control his feelings of despair over Francesco’s plight. He couldn’t fathom how such a sweet and gentle person could remain so cheerful.

“You’re right, Francesco. Forgive my thoughtless question.” He offered him a smile. “But that was very good what you just did.”

Francesco’s eyes widened. “What did I do?”

“You asked me a question then let me answer it without carrying on and on.”

Francesco’s grin lit up his face, and other than one crooked tooth which overlapped the other on the bottom, he had a lovely, perfect smile. “Are you proud of me? And see? I didn’t ask another question then either.” He straightened up, his posture almost regal with his shoulders back and chest puffed out. “Hey, I’m getting good at this.”

Theo didn’t want to take Francesco’s victory away by pointing out that he’d asked another question, nor did he wish to indulge the urge to take Francesco under his wing as a submissive, due to the young man’s behavior. It was time to make his goodbyes.

“You most certainly are, and I would say you did wonderfully. You make me very proud.”

Theo fiddled with the brim of his hat as he gazed down at his hands. He’s not a stray dog, he’s an adult. At least, I’m almost sure he is. And anyway, it’s not my place to rescue him. Theo snapped his head up and offered Francesco the professional smile he’d perfected while doing business. Francesco narrowed his eyes.

“Are you done with me now?” Francesco’s words gave off an accusatory tone.

“I…” Theo shifted on the bench. He’d been taken aback by the astute query. Quite observant. Regardless of his lack of formal education, Francesco had proven to be inquisitive and aware throughout their conversation. He was not a stupid man. “It’s not about being done with you, it’s the fact that I’m on the way to my office and I hadn’t planned on being sidetracked by such a lovely young man.”

Francesco shrugged as he glanced down, his legs swinging as he kicked at the dirt. “That’s okay, I get it. You don’t have to pretend. I know when people are sick of me, happens all the time.” He jerked his head up, his eyes wide again, his body language telegraphing that he’d shoved his pain aside. “Hey, do you think I can have my dime back? I haven’t eaten yet today.”

Theo’s chest felt tight and heavy. He struggled to keep his voice from shaking as he responded to Francesco. “I thought you said it was my dime?”

Francesco chuckled. “Yeah, I know. But I’ll tell you a secret. I spotted your snazzy motorcar and thought I’d check you out to see if I could guess whether you might like another fella to be nice to you. I couldn’t tell, because sometimes you can’t and such, but you’re so handsome, I thought I’d take the chance anyway. I use the dime thing a lot.” He nudged Theo with his elbow. “It works pretty good too. Gotta find an excuse to chat a guy up, if you know what I mean.”

Have to get away, not my business. “I see. Well, I’ll tell you a little secret too. I knew it was your dime, but I took it so I could discover what it was you were up to. I never planned on keeping it.”

“That’s why I like you. You’re a stand-up fella and there ain’t many of those out there, gosh no. Only Mr. Guildenstern at the bakery who gives me the day-old rolls or sometimes even a glazed donut if I knock on the back door before they open, or one-eyed Chester, the ticket-taker over at the picture show palace who sneaks me in if his boss ain’t around. Until I met you, I never met no one so good before. I’ll sit with you anytime, Mister. And I don’t want no dime or nothing. I’d do it just because I want to.”

Theo couldn’t stand it any longer. He had to make his excuses before his heart broke any more. “Thank you, Francesco. And please call me Theo.” He frowned to himself. It wasn’t as if he’d ever see him again, so why had he said such a thing? “I think you’re very nice too and that was quite brave to admit that you were trying to trick me. But I would be careful not to say that to other men who might get angry and possibly hurt you.”