Chapter 20
20
PINOCCHIO
T he only event in town more ornate than the Autumn Festival is the Christmas Festival. It’s the night before Christmas, and it seems like everyone in Collodi is here. The newest electrical lights are various colors, engulfing the town square dancing area in a multitude of twinkling hues. Behind the orchestra stands a massive pine tree, ornately trimmed with wooden toys, many of which, we provided.
And, naturally, wooden booths surround the perimeter with small businesses like our own. Patrons wander about, dancing, singing, and making purchases. Lampwick, Papa, and I have been hard at work catering to tourists and anyone who forgot to buy a Christmas gift.
This of course reminds me of last night’s perfect gift. After making a sale, I glance to the left at the man who owns my heart. Lampwick plays with a ballerina marionette, and the two little girls giggle in delight. He laughs and taps one child on the head, then allows her to play with it. I sigh and wonder what he’ll be like when he has kids of his own one day. Will I be the one to raise them alongside him?
“Well, we’re down to our last clocks,” Papa says, walking between us. He’s holding a massive crate, and I take them from him.
“Do you need to take a break?” I ask.
“No, but you do.” He points to see a bubbly Giovanna strolling up to us. She twirls once, and her elegant red dress moves along with her, underneath her coat. “You aren’t lying to that girl, are you?” he mutters.
I snicker and take out the clocks. “She and I are just good friends. Besides, I can’t lie.” I turn to her and say, “ Ciao .”
“ Ciao . Good to see you on your feet, Signore Geppetto.” She curtsies, and Papa bows.
“Tell your Papa thank you for all the bread baskets he’s given me.”
“We’re practically neighbors. He owns a bakery.” She turns to me and shrugs. “It’s the polite thing to do.”
I smile and line up the last clock. “Well, we appreciate it.”
“Speaking of bakeries,” she says. She glances at Lampwick, who’s happily accepting money from a young couple. He only looks at us once with mild apprehension, and the nerves set in. “Are you ready?” she whispers.
I play with my fingers. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“I’m so happy for you,” she says. She touches my shoulder, but when Lampwick begins to walk closer to us, she bolts back like I’m made of fire.
“Hi, Giovanna. What…what’s going on?” Lampwick asks. He’s intermittently gritting his teeth and flexing his fists, likely trying not to lose his temper. The fact that he’s possessive over me is, in all honesty, very sexy.
She shrugs and looks back at the violinists on stage. Several folks have walked to the center and they begin to dance a holiday waltz. “Nothing. I’m going to find a boy who wants to dance with me. Arrivederci !” She wiggles her fingers and skips away.
Lampwick waves and then leans into me. “What were you whispering about?”
I snigger. “You’re going to have to be more secure if you want to be my secret boyfriend,” I say softly. All of the townspeople are paying attention to the waltzing couples, and their enamored cheers drown out our voices.
We both turn our attention to the patrons in front of us who wish to relieve us of the last of our clocks. We quickly make the sale and secure the profits. “I’m sorry,” Lampwick murmurs, once the customers are gone. He waves and smiles at neighbors walking by. “Just…I remember being here two months ago, and—”
“I didn’t like her then, and I don’t like her now. At least not in that way. She’s an ally, I promise. In fact…” I gulp and look around. Our booth appears to be empty of wares, which means Papa has a heavy cash box to put away. “Papa, can we take a break?”
“Call it a night.” He holds the metal box in one arm and uses the cane in the other arm. “We’re done. You boys have fun.”
He all but winks at me and hobbles away. Once it’s just me and Lampwick, I take one moment to simply look at him. The golden and red hues of the lights glisten on his handsome face. I’m blessed in every regard.
“Come on,” I say, tapping his shoulder.
“Huh?”
“Follow me.
“Where?”
“To your Christmas present, silly.” I dash out of the booth and leave the town square, and Lampwick gives chase.
* * *
Five minutes later, we make it to a darkened avenue not far from home. Everyone’s at the festival, so none of the stores are open, including the one we’re standing in front of.
“Delluomo Bakery?” Lampwick looks at me with confusion.
I take the key out of my pocket and wave it in front of him with a grin. He still seems perplexed, so I open the door. No one’s around, and we shouldn’t take long.
“You’re gifting me Giovanna’s dad’s bakery?” He follows me in, wearing a curious grin.
I snicker. “You’re so funny,” I murmur. I get to work procuring the wares out from behind the counter. Despite my trembling hands, I’m able to place the candelabra and record player exactly where I want it. I place the stained-glass structures in a line, and I’m grateful that everything is precisely where Giovanna said it would be. She really went all out for me.
“What…what’s all this?” he asks, and without even turning around, I can tell he’s smiling.
“Just one moment.” I finish lighting the candelabra, then start the record player. Once I turn to him, we both gaze at the walls; the glass is shining on the surfaces. The entire bakery is bathed in an ethereal green-and-pink light. With the chairs moved to the side, it’s like our own extravagant festival on the tiled floor. The record player croons with the soft sounds of piano and violins.
Once he looks down at me, I beam at his face, glowing with light. “What…what is…?”
“Merry Christmas, Lampwick,” I whisper. I extend my left hand out, and after taking a deep breath, he meets me with his right.
“What is all this?” he asks through a mirthful laugh. I put my right hand on his hip and he places a palm on my shoulder.
“The town wouldn’t exactly be accepting of us dancing with them, so I made my own little festival.” We sway to the music, and it’s the greatest Christmas present of all time. “I…I wanted something gold couldn’t buy. Because your gift was so wonderful.”
“Not as wonderful as this.” He lays his head on my shoulder. “My first dance,” he whispers.
“Mine, too. The first dance I’ve ever truly wanted.” My life feels complete with Lampwick in my arms.
“Thank you, Pinocchio.” We sway to the tune and my heart thumps faster. I want this, I want him, for the rest of my days.
“You’re always welcome, Lampwick,” I whisper. Always .
We continue to move to the music, and I reflect on our years together. We were two little kids who wanted to go on adventures and take on the world. Now, as young men, we’re forging our own future together. His left hand strokes the back of my head while I grip his right hand tighter with my left. He’s my family, my past, my home, and after tonight, my everything.
My throat is overcome with emotion, and I pull back. His green eyes glisten and reflect the refracted lights. It’s like he knows I want to say more, but I need to know if I’m his forever as well.
I open my mouth, and the record player stops. All good things must come to an end. I drop my hands, and we both smile.
“Um, thank you for that.”
“No, thank you,” he replies.
The silence is awkward for both of us. We’re standing a few feet away from the front door, and it’s obvious we’re still alone in this corner of town. I scratch my arm and look away, suddenly overcome with shyness.
“Pinocchio?” he asks, his voice nearly a whisper.
“Yeah?”
“You should know that…that after all this time, I — WOAH !”
His words are cut off by a shout, and his body is gone in a blur. He’s been pulled through the front door, and a hand drags him out into the cold darkness.
A dark figure has emerged, and the door slams back closed. My eyebrows jump, and once the shock wears off, I reopen the door and run out into the street.
“Papa, please what are you doing?!” I hear Giovanna shout, but the dark figure pushes her away.
“This street rat brOKE into OUR HOME!” The dark figure howling is none other than Signore Delluomo. His massive intimidating presence has my pulse pounding in genuine fear.
“No!” Giovanna says, nearly in tears. She tries to subdue her father, but with one hand he holds her at bay. Mr. Delluomo towers over a figure on the cobblestone road, and when I finally get around him, the blood rushes from my face.
Lampwick. He’s on the ground, and his lip is bleeding.
No . Nonono.
“Ugh,” he groans. He looks at his hands, like he just fell off a moving cart. But he didn’t —he was thrown.
Mr. Delluomo grabbed him by the collar and threw him on the ground. The clarity of the last ten seconds has finally caught up to me.
“Lampo!” I shout, getting to the ground.
“Stay out of this, Geppetto’s son, and you too, Giovanna!” The huge man with the dark beard points at me, then to his daughter.
“I told you not to come back home yet!” she pleads to her father. “It’s not a big deal, it’s just—”
“This URCHIN, this LOWLIFE!” He points to the ground where I’m helping Lampwick up. “Broke into our bakery to try to RUIN our lives again!” He’s shouting, face red with fury.
“N-no,” I stutter in a meek voice. I hold Lampwick up with his arm around me, but Mr. Delluomo doesn’t even look at me.
“Papa, I let them use the bakery, it’s not a big deal,” Giovanna says with a broken voice, but her father continues to dismiss her.
“Don’t lie to cover for this awful, pathetic excuse for a boy.” He points to Lampwick who looks so defeated. “I knew you couldn’t change. You just want to bring ruin to everyone in this town again. You’ve gained their trust, but now you’re breaking into people’s houses on Christmas Eve?!”
My heart is pounding, but Lampwick merely looks down. His resigned look and bleeding lip make my soul ache. My soulmate has lost his will to fight.
“But now, you’ve proven how wicked and dreadful you truly are.” The vitriol in his voice makes me wince, and he moves forward to point right at Lampwick’s face. “The entire town will never accept you.”
I want to defend him, but I’m frozen in fear and shock. Lampwick remains impotent, Giovanna is crying, and this man, my neighbor, continues to expel a malice I’ve never witnessed before. Between his awful words and Lampwick’s broken look, tears begin to well up in my eyes.
“You will never be welcome here.” He points right at him and lowers his voice to a spiteful, growly tone. “And you’ll never feel the love of family. Because all you know how to do is hurt everyone.”
Hearing this lights a furious fire in my soul. “That is A LIE!” I slap his finger away and stand right in front of Mr. Delluomo. “Take back your words because I WON’T let you speak to Lampwick like that.”
The tall man before me snickers. “Stop defending your friend, Pinocchio. If you don’t want to date my daughter, I’ll forgive you. But don’t stick up for someone so worthless. After all—”
“He is NOT WORTHLESS!” I nearly shriek in his face, and he steps back. I huff, all the adrenaline from the past three minutes making my bones ache. I ball my fists up and step forward, and the towering man moves back.
“Lampwick is my whole world. You say he’s not worthy, but he’s everything to me! Papa cares for him, and everyone else in town sees him for who he is today, not what he’s done.” I gulp and stare down at my feet, but my voice continues to rise. “And even if they didn’t, I know a good person when I hold them. Lampwick is generous, hardworking, caring, and affectionate. I love him day in and day out, and he makes it so damn easy. As long as I’m alive, he’ll never be worthless! Because I have him, he has me, and I intend to spend the rest of my days with him by my side. I love every part of him. He is, and always has been a treasure in my life!”
I catch my breath and notice Giovanna and her father frozen, staring at me in surprise. Turning around, Lampwick appears just as shocked as he holds his puffed-up cheek. To my left, a small crowd has gradually approached, led by none other than Papa.
Mr. Delluomo shakes his head and looks at them. “Oh, perfect! You’re all here.”
“What’s going on?” Papa asks, hobbling with his cane. Mrs. Ricci is by his side, along with Mr. Donatella and several other townsfolk.
“Geppetto, talk some sense into the boy.” He points at me with renewed vitriol. “He says he loves this street rat, Lampwick.”
I turn and gaze at my boyfriend who seems to be more shaken than anyone. Noticing his bright red lip, I quickly take out a handkerchief and gently dab his face.
“Ridiculous!” he bellows. I turn to the crowd at that word. Mr. Delluomo waves his hands in the air. “Can’t you see what he’s done? He has corrupted poor Pinocchio into a life of deviancy. He broke into my bakery, and now he—”
“He did not!” Giovanna exclaims. She stands next to Papa and says, “I arranged for it. With Pinocchio.” She turns to her dad and says, “I’m sorry, Papa, but my friends wanted a private, special moment.”
“And you threw him out and split his lip! He did nothing wrong, and you hurt him!” I shout. I rub my friend’s back while he dabs his mouth.
The growing crowd murmurs with controversy. It seems like the entire town is now watching this little scene unfold.
Mr. Delluomo hesitates with an air of fear. “But…but… it was only a matter of time before Lampwick hurt people again!”
“You hurt…my boy? You did that to Lampwick?” Papa asks, anger growing on his face.
“But…but…” Mr. Delluomo steps back, and the crowd encroaches on him. Then, he turns to me and my boyfriend. “Look at them! They’re sexual deviants now, sodomites. The church can’t accept a sinful lifestyle like that!”
The blood drains from my face as all eyes are on us now. The one fear we’ve been avoiding for weeks has come to fruition, here on Christmas Eve. These people I’ve grown up with now know I’m in a homosexual relationship. After a few moments, I swallow my anxiety and stand tall. I hold Lampwick close, then move in front of him. Anyone who wants to get to him will need to hurt me first.
“I don’t care,” Papa says. “They’re my boys. My family.”
My heart wants to burst at the sight of Papa confidently gazing at us, several yards away.
“I don’t care either,” Giovanna hollers. She turns to the crowd and waves her hands. “Pinocchio is our friend, right?”
A few more people murmur; maybe I’m imagining it, but the sounds are approvals.
“But…but it’s a sinful nature!” Mr. Delluomo exclaims, pointing at us.
“I don’t care what the church says, they’re still part of Collodi, through and through,” Mr. Donatella says, stepping forward. “So, no, I don’t think it’s a sin.”
“I think it’s a sin,” Mrs. Ricci says, stepping forward. My throat goes dry, until she points at Mr. Delluomo. “But I’d rather die before I let you hurt either one of those good boys. Because that’s a sin, too.”
“Yeah!” the crowd says, all stepping forward.
A spark of hope flares in my soul, and I hold Lampwick close to me. Here, on Christmas Eve, the entire town, neighbors I’ve known my whole life, has come to our defense. They know about me and Lampwick, and we aren’t the town pariahs.
So, I hold my boyfriend’s hand and lace his fingers with mine. He shares a smile with me as he dabs his split lip with the handkerchief.
“But…but…” Mr. Delluomo steps back, the unmistakable look of fear in his eyes.
I smile and slowly walk up to him. It feels like the whole town holds its breath. Everyone watches while I hand him the key. “I’m sorry for not asking for permission. Thank you for letting us use your bakery. Have a Merry Christmas, Signore Delluomo.”
He lets out a small sigh—if I’m, not wrong, it’s the sound of defeat. He’s outnumbered, and the town still accepts us, a true Christmas miracle. I beam at Giovanna and all the neighbors who just now defended us, hoping my expression of gratitude shines through. Mr. Delluomo takes two steps backward, farther away from the crowd. Then, I grab Lampwick’s hand again and squeeze it. We’re here, and we’re not going anywhere .
At long last, I guide my boyfriend toward Papa. He continues to wipe his lip, and we three share meaningful smiles. Papa pats Lampwick on the shoulder, and I know all is well in my life. Together, our family of three walks several yards down the avenue to where we belong—home.