I called for a cab. I didn't particularly want to walk through the slush. Louis looked splendid in his black wool suit, as did I in mine of blue. The taxicab came quickly and we rode to the ballet theatre in a comfortable silence. We arrived and were shown to a private box with an excellent view. Louis was thrilled. I reached for his hand, he let me take it willingly. We watched the familiar ballet with relish. I was happy to see him involved again. As always, when he had emerged from one of his silent moods, some of his old passion which had so captivated me came back, and I would want him more than ever. And when the ballet came to its Christmas morning end, Louis turned to me and said something which stunned and enchanted me so much that I could not speak.
"Armand, would you come skating with me?"
I just stared at him. His green eyes were bright and imploring. He tried to run his fingers through his hair, but pulled them away as he touched the pomade. I knew that this habit was secretly why he disliked the pomade and such so intensely. He would unconsciously lift his hand to his hair and get it all over his fingers. It also reminded him of how often he did this, a fact of which he would prefer to be unaware. He hated having the nervous habit, but had so far been unable to break himself of it. I heard him chastise himself with a sharp 'Stop that!' in his thoughts. I realized that I had been staring too long.
"Yes, Louis. Yes, I will." I smiled at him. His eyes registered such deep gratitude that I was humbled by it. "Let's get out of here."
It was well after midnight once we had both hunted and met at the ice rink beneath the Christmas tree. The place was deserted but for us. I admit, I was quite excited. Not just at the skating, but to be with Louis. It had been so long since we had shared a new experience together, but they always proved to be delightfully memorable.
We climbed through the window of the rink office and skate rental to find skates for ourselves. We briefly marveled at what huge sizes the men's skates went up to. It seemed that Americans get bigger feet every generation. I found a pair that fit and looked up to see Louis in a glass walled booth behind the skates. I carried a pair in for him.
He was curiously investigating some of the equipment.
"It's the music!" he informed me as I entered. I turned to the switches in a box on a wall.
"And the lights," I added, flipping a few toggles which bathed the ice in red, yellow and blue lights.
Louis was hovering uncertainly over the music dials. I gave him the smallest mental nudge and he activated the music. He turned and favored me with the conspiratorially guilty smile of a child stealing a sweet. I reached for him, and he yielded to me. I took him in my arms and kissed him. We removed our shoes and donned the skates. I stood and walked to the door. I looked back at him. He had risen and was leaning against a wall, testing his balance.
"Louis, simply walk as lightly as you can. You will not fall," I assured him, gently. He took a breath and stood straight.
"Walk to me," I instructed.
He did so, perfectly. I smiled at him.
"You see? You have far more power than you know. You could walk a tightrope if you wished to."
We walked hand in hand to the ice and mimicked what we had watched the skaters do the night before. We glided effortlessly in circles, turns and figure eights. We were both thrilled with the feel of it.
The music was a mix of waltzes and Christmas carols. When the Skater's Waltz began, Louis took my hand, and put his other hand at my waist. I smiled and nodded and allowed him to lead me through the dance. He was very good, and he enjoyed dancing. I gazed into his eyes as he twirled us around the ice, and I knew why I loved him. It was his mystery, his overwhelming beauty and his ability to make me feel emotions I had once thought I would never feel again. He wanted to be mine, and I allowed myself to be his. We skated on and on, dancing over the ice in the glow of the Christmas tree and the warmth of each other's arms.
Then a familiar hymn began. It captured our attention immediately.
"Ave María, gratia plena,
María, gratia plena,
María, gratia plena.
Ave, ave, Dominus,
Dominus tecum.
Benedicta tu in muliéribus,
et benedictus,
et benedictus fructus ventris,
ventris tui Iesus.
Ave Maria."
We were plunged completely and unexpectedly into our own memories. I was again a child in Venice. I was dressed in a tunic of dark blue velvet, wrapped in a heavy cloak lined with soft rabbit fur, wearing new leather shoes, which never touched the ground as Marius carried me into the Basilica for the candlelight mass at Christmas. I had only been with my master a few months, but I could remember no other life.
"You may hold the candle, Amadeo." Marius's voice alone quickened me.
I was dazzled by the beauty of the church. The candles and the incense seemed to place a calm over my heart and mind. The stained glass and the paintings were heartbreakingly intense and brilliant.
"Master, what is this celebration? Why do we gather at night? And why do you come to this mass, when you have never come to any other?" I asked him in my broken Italian. I was still learning, but he could understand every word I said, as always.
"They celebrate the birth of light into the world, Amadeo. The coming of the God of love, my precious one." Marius could speak to me so that I understood every word he said as well.
"The god you named me for, sir?" I loved to see the candlelight reflected in his ice blue eyes.
"Si, my Amadeo. And I come here to show this to you, this beauty, this majesty. And here serves me as well as anywhere to give thanks to Love for bringing you to me." Marius's smile was kind and full of adoration. It alone could keep me as warm as the arms he cradled me in.
"Then I shall give thanks too, sir. Nothing has ever given me such pleasure and joy as to be with you, my Master. I am happy beyond words to be in your safe keeping. I worship you, and I shall worship whom and what you worship." I lifted my face for a kiss.
He touched his lips to mine, chastely. "Listen to the music, young one. Listen to the voices."
I was quiet and he sang the words of the Ave very softly and patted me in time with the melody. I knew that I would never be without love. But children are often wrong.
Louis was remembering a Christmas midnight mass as well. I could see him in his own mind. He stood, a frightened boy of nine, dressed as an angel, in the vestibule of the St. Louis Cathedral. He was listening to the verses being read in the old French.
"And in the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent forth from God . . ."
Louis peeked through the door. He saw his mother, who caught his eye and blew him a kiss. She pressed his father's arm. He turned and smiled at Louis.
"Non, Louis, not yet," the choirmaster gently pulled him back.
Louis looked up at him with his enormous emerald eyes. "I don't remember the words, monsieur!" he whispered worriedly.
The choirmaster smiled and knelt down to him. "Louis, you know the words to the Ave Maria. Don't be frightened, petit, when you hear the music, you'll remember."
"And the angel came unto her, and said, "Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee . . ."
The choir master turned Louis to face the door, straightened the silver halo resting in his black curls, handed him a candle, and nodded, opening the door.
Louis took three slow measured steps, listening to the music, opened his mouth, and the words of the Ave flowed out in his sweet, clear soprano.
"So you were an angel, were you?" I teased Louis.
He blushed. "I sometimes wish I could see your thoughts as you see mine."
"No you do not Louis. My thoughts are no place for you."
He spun me into a long glide.
"Louis?"
"Yes?"
"Has anyone ever told you that you are a wonderful skater?" I grinned. He laughed.
At the same moment we saw a police car drive toward the rink. We ran to the office building, and leapt through the window. We shut off the lights and music, then ducked behind the racks of skates. But the policeman had seen fit to investigate. He tried the door, finding it locked, before he could discover the window I sent the thought to his mind that it must have been his imagination, too much eggnog back at the station house. He turned and left. We giggled with relief, returning the skates and slipping into our shoes. We walked home, I didn't care about the slush anymore.
At our apartment, we removed our suits, and I admit I used a bit of spellbinding to get Louis into the bathtub with me. We washed each other's hair, and bathed each other's bodies. We lingered in the warm sudsy water and let our hands roam where they would. It was sensual and it was good. It grew late. The water cooled. Louis began to feel drowsy. I stepped from the tub and lifted him out. We dried each other with thick soft towels. The dawn was coming fast now. I wrapped Louis in his towel and helped him to his room. His legs gave out. I shoved a sweater over his head and pushed him into a pair of pants. Nothing would put Louis in a worse humor than waking up naked. I raised the lid of his coffin and laid him to rest. His eyes were closing.
"Armand," he said softly. "J'taime."
"Io ti amo, Louis."
25 Decembre
Again I am jotting this as I dress for Armand. I had gone to find him when I awoke, and he was already in our kitchen, with scissors and comb. I was less than happy at the implication, but the bliss of the night before enabled me to undergo the ordeal once more for him. He saw me.
"Good evening, Louis," he pulled a chair out for me.
I closed my eyes momentarily, and then sat down. Armand chuckled at my resignation. He repeated his performance of last night.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"It is a surprise, caro," he said with a mysterious smile. "Wear your double breasted suit with the blue tie."
I nodded and went to do so. I stopped, though, before the Christmas tree. It was a vision of lights. I don't know how long I stood and stared, loving it, memorizing it. Armand brought me around with a soft kiss.
"Béllo, what are you doing?"
"Oh, Armand, I must have gotten distracted. The tree, it is so beautiful. Look at how the lights reflect back on themselves, on the windows, on the ceiling."
"Ah, yes, caro mio." He leaned his back against my chest, pulling my arms around himself. "I am so glad it makes you happy."
I kissed his hair. "Armand?"
"Hmmm?"
"I appreciate what you do for me. I am sorry I have been so distant lately. I have been ignoring you. I have been discourteous and rude and generally unfit-to-live-with. I beg your forgiveness, mon cheri," I apologized.
Armand laughed his tender, melodic laugh. "Caro, you never have to beg me for anything." He turned in my arms to face me. "Louis, mi amore, you have given yourself to me again. I forgive you everything."
Tears came to my eyes. I kissed his soft lips. I held him close to me. "Thank you, thank you Armand."
He linked his arms around me and lifted me slightly off my feet. His strength still continued to amaze me. He set me down. "Would you rather stay home, Louis?" He caressed my cheek.
"Non, Armand I am eager to see your surprise."
His lovely face transformed into a jubilant smile. I was so pleased to make him happy. "I'll go and get dressed," I said.
I cannot begin to guess at what Armand has planned, but I will be content so long as I am with him.
LdPdL
New York
Winter, 1947
My Louis, he wanted to make amends. He was always quick to admit his wrongs, especially if he felt he had hurt me. He returned to me dressed as I had asked him to be.
I took him out. I heightened the hunger in his mind so that he would be able to feed early. I steered him toward the places where the poor and the desperate congregate. He could not call to him those who wish to die, but I tried, when I could, to have him hunt areas where he was more likely to take one who had little to live for. We fed separately, but quickly.
I took him to Radio City Music Hall. It was dark and deserted of course, being Christmas night.
"Armand, there are no films being shown. It is closed for Christmas."
"Appearances can be deceiving, caro."
I guided him through the empty lobby and into the theatre. I sat him down, he looked at me questioningly. I sat beside him, and snapped my fingers. At once the curtains parted to reveal the screen. Louis gasped. I snapped twice and a film began to roll. Louis squeezed my hand very hard in his excitement. He loved films.
"Surprised?" I asked.
"Very surprised! What film is it?"
"Miracle On 34th Street." I said, it was the current film on the outside marquee.
Louis smiled. "I've wanted to see that."
"And Going My Way, The Bells Of St. Mary's, It's A Wonderful Life and A Christmas Carol, " I reeled off the titles of Christmas films he'd enjoyed in the past.
His eyes widened. He could hardly believe it. "But how did you get them? All of them? Really?"
"Yes, caro." I said, answering the last question. The first two would take far too long to explain. "Now, shhh!" I pointed to the screen as the Thanksgiving parade began to take shape.
Louis turned to watch the films but I watched him. He was so ecstatic he was practically bouncing in his seat, an extremely rare mood for him. I loved it, and even more I loved that I had caused it. Every so often I would see in him the fire he had when we first met, and I tried to stoke that fire when I could.
When the last film had rolled to a finish I stood and Louis unexpectedly threw his arms around me, kissing my face.
"You're welcome, caro." I laughed.
We caught a taxi and rode back to the apartment. As we entered, Kris, our doorman, informed Louis that his deliveries had arrived. Nicholas, in maintenance, had put them in our apartment. Louis and I both tipped him generously, as we always did, and Louis thanked him.
"What deliveries?" I asked.
"This is your surprise, cheri." Louis smiled, opening our door and holding it for me.
I was astonished. There, beneath the tree, were presents! I looked at Louis.
"For you, cheri." He beamed at me.
"Louis! I don't know what to say. Grazie. They're beautiful!" And they were. Boxes of all shapes and sizes wrapped in shiny colored paper, with gold and silver bows. They twinkled like jewels under the lights of the tree.
"Open them," Louis urged.
"Alright." I smiled. I sat on the carpet under the tree. Louis removed his jacket and tie and did the same. I grabbed a smallish box and held it to my ear, shaking it. No sound.
"Money?" I asked him.
He smacked my shoulder, laughing. "OPEN it, Armand!"
I did. It was a silk tie, beautifully embroidered with an intricate A.
The next was a large painting of an Italian villa I had admired at least three years ago.
A golden pocket watch.
An antique Virginal. I had mentioned once that I had played one.
Gold and diamond cufflinks.
The very latest, top of the line radio. Louis knew I was fascinated with radio.
A phonograph.
Phonograph records (The Nutcracker Suite, Adeste Fideles, Veni, Veni Emmanuel, Ave Maria, and The Skater's Waltz)
and finally, a brand new pair of ice skates.
There were tears in my eyes, which was a turn about for us.
"When did you do all of this, caro?"
"Some last night, while you were hunting, some the night before." He began setting up the phonograph. When he'd finished, I handed him a record.
"May I have this dance?"
Louis smiled and nodded. He put the record on the phonograph and set the needle to it. I took him in my arms and we danced to the strains of the Skater's Waltz until near dawn.
"I have to go to my coffin." Louis said.
"I know, caro." I pulled him down to the floor with me. I sat in front of the Christmas tree and laid him in my lap. "Don't worry, Louis. Let your eyes close. The windows are covered. We are protected from the sun. I'll keep you safe."
He pushed himself up to kiss me. He lay back down, looked up into my eyes and smiled.
"Joyeaux Noel, cheri."
I leaned down and kissed him.
"Buon Natale, caro."
And we fell asleep entwined in each other.
Love is the greatest gift of all.
Fini
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