Red belonged to an affluent family. His father was a well-known and successful tax consultant in the city. As the son of such a father, Red always behaved with the mannered gentleness of a lord. He also had the gift of humor, and Emilio seemed to enjoy his conversation.
All this made appear Red like a top-class fashion model fallen from the scenes of a Hollywood movie among ordinary boys wearing cheap jeans and t-shirts.
All in all, he had an enervating effect on Claudio.
Claudio was the opposite of Red in every respect, and he couldn’t avoid showing his annoyance whenever he saw him appear. He always welcomed him aloud with the nickname of Princess and never missed an opportunity to make fun of his exaggerated elegance or his sickly civilized manners.
Actually, Claudio had a die-hard prejudice. He blamed Red for being born into a wealthy family and showing it openly with his manners and his ostentation of elegance.
Emilio seemed more neutral, but he did nothing to push Claudio to accept Red.
Fausto thought Red had no chance of becoming a member of the boys’ group. He guessed that soon Claudio would find the occasion to make him regret the day he had dreamed of joining his troupe and the way to make him run away, fast and forever.
*
Fausto had agreed to meet Fairtrader on Saturday after the lessons in front of the church entrance not far from to the school building. The meeting point was in an open, vast square, always crowded with people passing by on foot or by car, which made him feel safe.
Fausto thought he had nothing to fear and accepted to satisfy his curiosity. Fairtrader turned to be a youngster much like the one he had used as a training ball, a few days before.
The difference was that he had a short, uncultivated beard that Fausto found disgusting, and he didn’t arrive on a roaring motorbike as a kind of War God but walking as an ordinary mortal.
The two facts altogether neutralized their opposite effects on Fausto, who remained tuned on his general attitude of distrust for all the young men already out of secondary school.
But Fairtrader had a captivating attitude in talking that made feel Fausto at ease, and, after a while, the boy agreed that listening to him had been a good idea, as Fairtrader had affirmed.
The young man approached Fausto smiling and held out his hand. “Hi, Fausto! Seeing you in person, I can figure out how you did it,” he said with an admiring expression.
Fausto shook his hand, and Fairtrader said, “You’re a boy in the body of a real man. I understand your needs and your problems.”
“I don’t need your concern. How am I supposed to call you, and what’s your proposal?”
“Just call me Fair, for now,” said the young man. Then, without wasting time, he explained, “You see, Fausto, we have different goals, but we can cooperate. I'm sure that if we help each other, we can reach all our different objectives and with more satisfaction than alone.
“It made sense. Go on.”
Fairtrader smiled. It was now time to make full use of his eloquent and silken voice.
“Your aim, at present, if I’m not wrong, is to have fun with lovely girls. Well, no wonder and no reason to feel guilty at all! You’re looking for the right thing! You only need to find the right way to realize your wishes, let’s say without risking to break somebody’s head and remain with empty hands all the same.”
He made a short pause to acknowledge Fausto’s expression of the most profound interest.
Fausto nodded.
“Okay! On my side, I have a product to sell, and I need somebody who can help me with sales, keeping a generous gain for him, it’s clear. Young boys and girls are big consumers, and they prefer to buy it from someone of the same age, someone they can trust and approach easily in their usual places.
“I mean, I need a young boy to help me, but not any boy can do it. I need a boy smart and strong enough to remove from customers’ mind the temptation to fool him. Other than this, selling the thing requires none specific ability: let’s say it sells by itself since it is of good quality.”
In a flash, everything became clear in Fausto’s mind. He was a young boy, not Alice in Wonderland, and he wanted to cut that conversation immediately.
But Fair knew how to manage people. What he sold, in fact, was trust in a risky trade agreement, and he was the king of salesmen in that field.
He knew this was the most critical moment in his negotiation and he had to play now his best cards.
“Don’t be afraid, Fausto! You’re free to refuse—don’t be concerned about that. Just let me finish to explain so you will have the whole picture for making your decision. I’ll be fast.”
He paused as if to acknowledge Fausto’s approval, but he didn’t wait for any actual approval. He just pretended to have received it and resumed.
“Perhaps, you think now I want to pull you in an illegal business for my only advantage. But it isn’t so. My first concern will be keeping you safe from any risk. That’s in my interest. And I know well every trick required to handle this kind of trade most safely. You’re safe with me!
“Besides, the stuff we are talking about is legal in most of the civilized nations, and they have proved it causes no physical harm to the users. Soon it will be legal everywhere. Okay, there exist other specialties not as much inoffensive.
“But we’re not talking about that. The only rule to follow, for now, is that of keeping only a small quantity of stuff with you. I will explain to you the secret places where to hide your supply, and where and how to sell it a bit at a time, in the safest way.”
Fausto wasn't convinced yet.
“But the most important thing to consider is your personal advantage,” Fair continued. “It isn't only in the gain, which isn’t peanuts. I know many lovely girls that will be ready to play with you for some free doses. And you are young and handsome, they will just love to improve their enjoyment with you, and will be grateful to you. You will only give up a small part of your gain. But if you’re smart enough, and you avoid consuming the stuff by yourself, your net profit will still be relevant, and will increase with time. You will have plenty of girls!
“If you start, your only dilemma in two weeks will be that of choosing the ones you prefer, without offending those that aren’t sexy enough for your tastes. Yet keeping them as ordinary paying customers to serve.”
The last part of Fair’s talk hit Fausto.
“But the decision is up to you! Forget that I want to make any pressure on you. You are free to walk away now, or at any moment you will decide to close our deal. I will disappear, and I will never bother you in no way. You are completely free to decide.”
Now Fausto was reasoning at full speed, but couldn’t yet decide.
Fair, otherwise, knew by heart the last step of the path to get him.
“May I suggest you just try it once, and then you decide if you want to go on? If you agree to try, I’ll explain to you the details and the tricks, and you can start whenever you want. And also quit at any time.”
They walked towards the near public gardens, and Fair showed to Fausto the places and the hidings he had reserved to him, explained how to keep in touch with him safely to share the gain and renew his supply, and much more.
He also told him how to sell near some schools, but not to his school because professors and policemen kept it under too strict control. The places near the schools were the best for the youngest and less self-confident clients who didn’t dare to venture into the gardens: a marketplace open to customers of every age, sex, and ethnicity. Something like sailing to the open sea.
Fair promised him he would immediately spread the voice so that clients would come soon looking for him in those places of peddling, ready to buy the stuff with confidence.
In a few minutes, Fausto learned all the odds and the bits he needed to start his hustling career.
Walking home, he felt excited and fully engaged in accomplishing something real that gave a new meaning and cast a new hopeful light in the
lately bleak landscape of his life.
His young emotions were so compelling that they didn't allow him any pause of reflection.
He didn’t even question himself about how to match what he had started with his previous identity of a neat boy, among the best students at school and engaged in competitive sport, and one who loved riding a bike without a single thought in his mind.
*
Fair had told him that in exchange for free doses of drugs, some fancy girls might prefer to pay him off in sex. He explained they'd use a conventional phrase, asking him to pay in kind rather than cash.
Fair suggested not to bother them about the service they wanted to offer or force them to satisfy his fantasies. He should accept what they wanted to do. Otherwise, the voice would quickly spread, and he would lose those rare clients.
But after a full week of hustling, although the ordinary sales in cash had gone well, and he already needed a new supply, the relational aspect of the business had disappointed Fausto.
The few women who offered him the desired trade turned out to be all nearer to human wrecks than to attractive girls. He always refused and then had a hard time negotiating a discount on the stuff price, to avoid them going away empty-handed and angry with him.
Those episodes happened at the place in the public gardens, never near the schools.
Some of the customers also asked him for the stronger and harmful stuff he wasn’t selling. They complained, and walked away, telling him he should widen his assortment.
Fair had been fair, indeed, with him under the money respect, and he hadn’t asked him to pay in advance the cost of the product. Soon, Fausto had to meet him to pay the cost of the first supply, after having sold it all.
He took the chance to complain about his promise of many lovely girls who were supposed to pay in kind.
“You’ve just begun! Allow them time,” Fair replied with an indulgent smile. “They aren’t as impatient as you. Soon you will have what you’re seeking. Meanwhile, try to be kind with those who aren’t fulfilling the high level of your expectations.” This time Fair’s smile was mocking.
Fausto didn’t insist and left.
*
The following week several new facts happened in Fausto’s life. Some, though rewarding, carried disconcerting implications. Others were definitely worrying, and they posed a risk that might jeopardize all his certainties and pushed him to give a closer look at his new life plans.
One late afternoon, when the evening dusk was just falling, he saw a lovely girl walking fast towards his spot half-hidden in the bushes. Looking at her, he recognized Esther and felt suddenly breathless.
“What the hell does she want now?” he mumbled.
He thought better to stay neutral as if nothing had happened that famous day.
Apparently, Esther had decided the same, because she approached him and said in a low tone “Two doses to pay in kind.”
Fausto almost strangled himself trying to swallow the dryness in his mouth. Then, he barely could reply, “Okay, here are the two doses. Where…are we going to…do it, now?”
“Hey, boy! So, you’re still a real newbie! Come on, let’s go behind that thick bush, and lower your pants and underwear. Quick! Before somebody comes around and sees us.”
She walked in first, and with faltering legs, Fausto followed her. After lowering his pants, he bent again to take a condom from his trousers’ pocket and handed it to her.
“Dumbass! What do you want to do with that?”
She kneeled in front of him and did something with her mouth that Fausto never imagined a young girl could do. It lasted less than fifteen seconds, then the girl rose on foot, spitting and cursing.
“Give me a paper tissue, asshole! You filled my mouth with your shit! Are you mad?”
Fausto, hovering on cloud nine, handed her a packet of tissues with trembling hands. To not make it worse, he kept the mouth shut.
Esther continued to spit and wiped her mouth and hands with several tissues. After, she turned calm again and chuckled.
“Wow! There’s something down there that deserves a full treatment! I know a place where we could do it. Five doses are okay for that?”
“Yes, sure!”
“Well. But…no, I’d prefer stronger stuff for that. One dose of it might do it. Do you have it?”
“No, I still don’t sell strong stuff.”
“You still don’t? Well, if you want to ride me, next time I come, you must have it already. And let’s make it two doses of snow, okay? I’ll come next week, Monday or Tuesday.”
“Fine,” Fausto said before even thinking, and she was already walking away at her usual fast pace.
Pulling up his trousers, Fausto recalled what Claudio had told him of Esther.
“Hmm! Ice creams or jewelry trinkets? Dreamer or dumbass!”
Now he knew which gifts she wanted. Stuff—the strong stuff.
He was still buckling his trousers’ belt when he noticed another person marching fast towards his spot. It was a man.
Fausto emerged from the bush and observed the newcomer. Hell! That was the youngster he’d beaten!
Perhaps he’d been hiding and had spied what he’d done with Esther…
Fausto made a quick decision. He couldn’t afford the risk of a new fight with him, whichever might be the outcome. The only solution was to run fast! The young man couldn’t keep up with his speed and endurance. He didn’t resemble in any way a runner in good shape.
Fausto ran without a word, while the youngster cursed at his back. He never discovered if the guy wanted to fight, threat or just talk with him.
When he turned back for the third time to check the gap, Fausto saw him stopping and bending with hands on his knees to catch his breath. He had the temptation to run back fast and give him the final balance of what he deserved.
But he recalled he had vowed not to fight again, and he wanted to keep his promise. Beating that asshole had caused too much trouble already.
*
Esther was free from her parents’ oppressive control that week. They’d gone on vacation for a few days, leaving her and the house under the loose control of Tala, the Filipina full-time maid, and with a thousand recommendations and orders to obey in their absence.
After pretending to have finished her homework, Esther told Tala she had to reach a schoolmate for a walk in the city center. Then she would be back in time for dinner.
She walked to a central street, in a district that the young people called Movida because the most popular bars, restaurants, and music halls were all there within a few blocks.
She headed towards the street door of a well-maintained historical building, looking around to be sure that nobody seemed to give her any attention.
She pressed the button beside the name Alessio Bertoloni. That was Fair’s real name. The camera light flashed on, and the imposing wooden door switched open with a loud clack.
She entered fast and silently and pushed the towering door leaf shut behind her. Then she climbed to the last floor with the lift. On the landing, there was only one door at the right end. As she walked to it, the door opened, and she got in.
“Hi, Alex. How are you?”
“Fine! I was waiting for you. Please come, I have prepared a drink, would you like some?” the young man said preceding her.
The apartment, with thick ancient walls, terracotta tiles on the floors and precious wooden beamed ceilings, had been finely renovated. The vast living room was full of light entering from a wall to wall glass door that opened on a luxury terrace garden. And it had elegant furniture.
They sat side by side on a bright white sofa in front of a low coffee table. Two iced glasses filled with an ambry long drink and red glass stirring sticks were waiting on a silver tray.
“So, how did it go yesterday?” asked Alex-Fair after they had the first sip.
“Fine! Your big boy is a real toddler! He filled my mouth before I could even start the real job.”
“Oh! Sorry about that. But don’t you know how to manage toddlers already?”
“Are you talking of the other one? Well, that wasn’t a toddler, let me tell you. And he’s still bothering me, following me, calling me on the phone. I think you’ve been too harsh with him. He’s going a bit crazy.”
“Nah! Leave him alone, or he’ll make you pregnant, and you’ll regret it. Listen to my advice. He’s a loser, he has never sold half of what the boy sold in a week, and was always late in payments. I bet he smoked by himself or together with you a half of his weekly supply of weed and shit balls. He only cares for enjoying himself, fucking, and showing off with his motorbike. Plus, he was bothering me for a higher gain share! The boy, otherwise, didn’t even blink when I told him his percentage.”
“I understand Alex, but at least, you could give the boy the schools’ market and leave Lou the public garden’s place. That’s an adult’s market. You’ll recognize it.”
“No! Forget about Lou, accept the suggestion of a friend with some dust on the shoulders. This is my business, and the boy is doing perfectly well also in the gardens. So, what’s the problem with him? Didn’t he give you what you asked? Do you need something more? Hmm, Lou was generous with you, isn’t it?”
Esther simply cast her eyes to the sky framed by the glass door of the terrace.
“Well, if you care so much, tell Lou to come and talk with me tomorrow evening. Maybe I can offer him a new place to start, if he doesn’t break my balls with pointless requests.”
“Okay, thank you, Alex. I think it’s the best thing to keep him quiet.”
“To keep him quiet? Don’t worry. I don’t need to offer him anything to keep him quiet,” replied Alex-Fair with a sinister grin. “And in case he’s bothering you too much, just let me know. I’ll free you of him forever. You can bet on it.”
He drained what remained of his drink and turned to Esther again.
“Now, let’s stop wasting time with Lou. What I care to know is if you boosted the boy well. Did you urge him to do better and more?”
Five Urban Stories Page 2