CLJobe

It's Halloween, wouldn't like tp spend the night among the spirits, rather than drinking spirits.

Jim and Randy had been friends since the 8th grade. At 18, they became lovers. Graduation would be in June of the coming year, and plans were made to go to the same university. As in every year since they became friends, Halloween was a holiday for them. At first, they would dress in costumes and do the door to door trick or treat. In the last four years, they joined a group of kids that would patrol the streets, protecting those scary monsters with their bags of candy. They remembered those kids who got a perverse pleasure from stealing candy from the younger kids. “Jim, are you ready for our camp out tonight?” “Do we have to camp out in the cemetery? That’s spooky.” “Come on, it’ll be just the two of us, and no one will see or hear us,” as Randy wiggled his eyebrows. Jim knew that being with Randy, he would share his bedroll and create a lot of heat. He’d do anything to be in Randy’s arms. The love they shared could only be conveyed in the close embrace of their arms after making love. “I remember the first time we camped out. I was so scared, not of camping out but of being with you. I wanted so badly to share your bedroll, and when you suggested we do that, I became so excited I almost came in my shorts. Of all the times we’ve camped out and made love, I’ll never forget that first time.” Jim looked around and didn’t see anyone; he grabbed Randy in his arms and gave him a kiss with the promise of more tonight. If Randy had any thoughts about not going, they were gone with that kiss and the promise it held. Returning home after all the kids had vacated the streets, they packed some snack food and water to take with them to the cemetery. Saying good night to his parents, Randy reluctantly picked up his bedroll and bag of snacks and headed to Jim’s home. Jim saw him coming and met him at the corner before Randy turned into Jim’s driveway. Walking silently toward the town’s cemetery, Jim tried to lighten the mood. “Do you how many dead people are buried here?” “No, how many?” Jim started to laugh, “All of them.” For that, he got a punch on the arm, but Randy did smile. As they entered the cemetery, Jim took his flashlight and led the way. He flashed the light on several graves, making comments about those whom he had known. “I don’t know where we’ll set up.” “How about the new area? I don’t think there are many graves there, so we should have a lot of room to set up.” “Great idea,” as they walked on the cemetery road to the new section. “Maybe we can find a secluded spot to have some fun.” Randy knew what fun Jim had in mind and was all for it. There were a few graves there, but the area was mostly just grass. “Jim, let’s set up over there under that oak tree.” Jim agreed, and so they set up their bedrolls, combining the two so they could sleep together. “Do you think we’ll be able to have the same dorm when we go to college?” “I don’t see why not, but just in case, let’s make some memories now to take with us.” It started as light kissing but quickly moved past that into a passionate kiss that required them to open the bedroll to cool off. They were both erect and ready for the consummation of their love. Randy generally was the bottom, but this night Jim took the bottom role. It didn’t matter as they both enjoyed changing positions. As their love cooled, they decided to go to sleep. It wasn’t long before Jim was sound asleep in Randy’s arms. Randy couldn’t fall asleep. Something was at the back of his mind and wouldn’t let him relax. Moving around, he woke Jim. “What’s the matter?” “I don’t know. I’m having a hard time falling asleep.” “Come here; let me hold you for a while. I love you; think about that.” Being in Jim’s arms helped, and soon, Randy drifted off to sleep. Sometime during the night, he was awoken by someone tapping him on his shoulder. Sleepily he opened his eyes and saw his grandfather. At first, he was confused, he knew his grandfather died when he was eight years old, but the man was there, indicating he was to follow him. Randy got up and took his grandfather’s hand and found himself being led to the barn on his grandfather’s farm. He knew that the farm now belonged to his uncle, but it looked deserted. Following his grandfather to the barn, they walked to the stalls that once held the farm’s horses. When Randy looked into a stall, he saw his grandfather’s horse, but he knew that the horse was dead. As he reached to pet the horse, his hand passed through the horse as if there was nothing there. Randy was confused; this can’t be. His grandfather pointed to a corner of the stall. Randy went and moved the old straw away and noticed some loose boards. He lifted the boards and saw a metal box, which he removed. The next thing he noticed, he was back at the cemetery looking at himself and Jim. When morning came, Jim nudged Randy awake. Noticing the metal box, “Randy, where did that metal box come from?” Randy rubbing the sleep from his eyes and leaning toward Jim for a morning kiss, turned, and looked at the box. “I don’t know, but I had the weirdest dream last night. I dreamt that my grandfather was here and took me to his farm. He showed me where he had hidden a box. But it was a dream; I don’t know how that box got here.”

Strange happenings in a cemetery

The shooting is finished. They are doing the screening now. Oh wait,. well?? "It could've used a better writer, but it is a print." So it is over, "Yep"

Love and responsibility. Many say "I feel sorry for that or this, then walk away, no responsibility." Not my attitude, I use mob stories to highlight that attitude.

You are welcome. I like stories that end on a positive note. Although that isn't always possible in life, not is possible in stories

Yes, he know what it was to be hungry and feeling lost. The college student became a good friend to Thomas, he more or less adopted Thomas, a bit reversed.

You are correct, those who have grown up in a home of hate, will then to drift to those that offer hope and love. I don't know or are aware of hate being passed on from parent to child, maybe I grew up in a loving family. I do know of class mates that didn't grew up in a loving home, I was just that more of aa friend to them. Thankfully, there were only a few. I didn't know any one who was abused, until later in life.

We, who have had the pleasure of growing up in a loving home, tend to have a loving attitude toward our fellow man. We also develop an intense hate towards those who take advantage of others. Philosophy class, freshman seminar.

Thank you

It was Easter when Sis called and said Mom was in the hospital. She said she seemed to give up on life. All she talked about was Dad and how she would meet him soon. And soon it was; within a month, Mom joined dad. I missed my parents. It was Mario who told me that Mom and Dad had led a good, full life. They always told my sons how proud they were of their family. They said they were more than blessed with their children and their families. How many grandparents live to see their great-grandchildren. I missed them. Geno visited with a young boy and girl. “Dad, meet your grandchildren.” I looked confused. “When I returned to school, one of my students was accused of stealing food. He told me he was helping two street kids. I asked him where these kids were, he said in his dorm room. He was hiding them in the closet. I went with him to his dorm room, and he introduced me to these little ones. The story even gets stranger. They were living in a shed, sharing with some older man who they said was their grandfather. The grandfather was found dead one night and never came home. The boy, who was two years older, went out to hunt for food. My student saw him going through some garbage behind a restaurant. Brought them home and started to steal food from the local grocer to feed them.” “That is a strange tale. No one noticed them living in that shack?” “Evidently not.” “Why didn’t the student take them to an agency? Surely there are places in Milano where they would take care of these children.” “I suggested that. He said they would probably split them up, and he didn’t think that was right. Then I found out he was orphaned but old enough to live on his own. His sister, who was 10 years younger, was taken, and he never saw her again.” I thought that boy must have an interesting story. He survived and is in school. Geno taught at the university level. I looked at the children, they were cute, and the boy was very protective of his sister. “So, why are they with you?” “I have adopted them.” I just looked at Geno. There was no way to hide my tears. I hugged him, “Let’s go and celebrate.” Yes, we ate at Bianchi’s, and then we took a boat ride. The children were smiling; the little girl was sitting on my lap as we sailed on the boat. Geno stopped the boat about two kilometers from the coast. He and the boy fished. “Geno, what are their names?” “This young man is Marcio, and this young lady is Maria. I call them M one and M two.” The children heard their name and laughed. Geno spoke to me in English, but he told me their names, speaking Italian. We had to take the two fish they caught home. Geno and his family stayed for two days with me, and then I joined them in Milano. “Dad, if they can stay with you, I’ll come down on weekends. I could arrive Friday night and leave on Monday morning. I can arrange my classes to do that. What do you say?” “More important, what do they say.” I listened, as Geno explained to the children. They would look at me, then look at him. I would judge they approved of the arrangements. I did meet the young man who was taking care of them before he got in trouble. He came with the children. I never asked Geno if he adopted him as well. He was 21 too old to be adopted, but he was a great help with the children. They trusted him. And so my house became full again. Pictures taken, sent to the States. During their breaks from school, the boys came and stayed at the house. It was their home away from home. I was always pleased to have the house full again. During the summer, all of the boys and their families came home for a vacation. I don’t know how they manage it, but I had at least two weeks with all of them. The grandchildren learned about nesting. The boys would sleep in one room, the wives in another room. Roberto, being the oldest, took the room across from mine. Geno spent the summer with me. With the Captain’s help, we took to sailing to some of the countries close by the southern tip of Italy, fishing as we went. I was a rich man, not in money but in love. My boys showed me that the most significant thing I ever did, was adopting them as my sons.

I think Thomas is also worried, He knows what is ahead for Nonna.

Si, e la vita

A lot of our instincts, behavior patterns are based on our animal drives. Basically we are another form of "animal", many of our behaviors are seen in other animals.

You're right. Generally in a long, loving marriage, when one partner leaves this plane, the other soon follows.