Disclaimer: For entertainment only.

Benny & Ray 103 Back in Little Italy Dee Gilles Rated PG

Tommy DeBenedetto walked whistling down the street, hands stuck in the pockets of his denim jacket. His collar was turned up at a cheerful angle. It was beautiful day, and the sun was out. It had been pouring, raw, when he met his friend Scott in Boystown to check out the newest gay flick to hit the theater, "Adam and Steve". It was okay. Kinda cheesy and amateurish, but at least it was something.

He and Scotty had sat at the caf for an hour, sipping espresso and gossiping. The rain had let up right as they departed, and the sun had come out. The two had split up on the El. Tommy had to ride a few more stops after Scotty to get home.

Back in Little Italy, Tommy pulled out his sunglasses and enjoyed the scenery, walking down Taylor Street. He walked past Ianucci's Market. He couldn't believe the old place was still there. Back in junior high, he and Ray used to get their gumballs there, and all their penny candy; Mary Janes, Squirrel Nut Zippers, Bazooka Joe gum, Tootsie Rolls. He had to smile with the memories. They'd meet up with Matteo Zuko there sometimes. Matteo, Frankie's cousin, was the only Zuko worth a damn, besides Irene. Sometimes they'd meet a bunch of the fellas up there and they'd get a stick ball game going afterwards.

Ianucci's was where Ray used to meet up with his sister Carla. They had to date on the sly because Ray was the dangerous older man, and Carla the innocent young thing. Tommy's ma had forbidden Carla from seeing Ray. Carla was only in the seventh grade, while Ray was in the eighth. It was quite the scandal, back then.

Tommy had to chuckle at that one, remembering how innocent the courtship was by today's standards. Carla and Ray only held hands and kissed for a couple of months before Carla was wooed away by Richie Greco. The same Richie Greco who later stole Irene Zuko away. In fact, married her. Ray hated Richie Greco. And so therefore, so did Tommy DeBenedetto.

Tommy, Ray, and Matteo were inseparable back then--the three Musketeers. They'd go to Ray's Aunt Gigi's house sometimes, and hang out with her boys, Sammy and Johnny. They used to make fun of their little sister, another Carla. She was a tattle tale and a royal pain in the ass. She once ratted them out to Aunt Gigi for smoking in the basement. Tommy's dad had smacked him good for that one, once he found out. Gigi made sure that he got a phone call. Back then, adults told your business to your parents. You couldn't get away with anything.

Tommy wondered how Gigi was. He knew she had retired a few years back and moved to Boca. He ought to call her up sometime, just to surprise her. He hadn't spoken to her in about twenty years now.

Tommy actually owed Gigi a debt of gratitude, in a way. It was thanks to her that he met Marco. Marco Matroni was kind of the weird kid in school. The family moved to the neighborhood from Staten Island when Marco and Tommy were in the fifth grade. Something about the kid was, well...off, and the other guys in the neighborhood just kind of stayed away from him.

It was Gigi who had pulled Tommy aside one day and asked him to do her the favor of being a friend to Marco. She had given him five dollars to take Marco to a movie and go for soda afterwards. He and Marco did become fast friends after that. He forgot what they originally were supposed to see, but they ended up sneaking into MASH. They both thought the movie was boring, but it was the first time either one of them had seen naked tits, so that more than made up for it in their book.

That summer, Tommy and Marco messed around for the first time, down in Marco's basement. Tommy ejaculated for the first time in his life, surprising both boys. They grew close. A few months later, Marco revealed some pretty awful things that his father did to him, some nights, after his ma and his sisters had gone to sleep. Tommy wondered if Ray knew. They had never, ever talked about that. Tommy wondered where Marco was these days. He seemed to have disappeared into thin air one day, a while after his ma and sisters went back to New York.

Tommy turned down his street. He glanced down at his watch, and wondered if Bruno would be home yet. Bruno had gone into the office, and in fact went in most Saturday mornings. He was dedicated to the kids at St. T's. Last night, a new runaway had arrived at their front door, a sixteen year old Hispanic kid whose daddy had beat the crap out of him for bringing a boy home the day of his sister's La Quinceanera party. Rejection. Tommy knew all about that. It was the reason he left Little Italy in the first place, all those years ago. Although he got along okay with his dad now, he never forgot the sting of his father turning his back on his only son. It made him pull back from loving his father completely, still.

Tommy entered through the front gate. It was unlatched. Odd. He always latched it whenever he exited. Maybe Bruno was home, then. No. Bruno took his car this morning, and would have pulled into the garage and entered through the kitchen. Tommy latched the door back firmly, and tugged on it to make sure it had locked securely. He must have just gotten careless, that's all.

He walked up the front sidewalk, and absently checked the porch mailbox for letters. He pulled out a stack, and leafed through. Bill. Bill. Junk. Bill. Junk. Bill, bill. Tommy's keen ears picked up the faint sound of glass breaking and he looked up curiously, looked around.

He then heard another crash, louder now. Upstairs. It was coming from upstairs.

He wrenched open the front door, knowing instinctively that it would not be locked.

What he saw when he opened the door horrified him. Tommy stood paralyzed. Running up the stairway in foot-tall letters, was red spray paint. F A g S it read. The walls and floors were sprayed with black spray paint, and red. F a G G O T v i l L E was sprayed on his antique buffet.

Furniture was slashed, some overturned. "Oh my God!" Tommy cried. His house. His brand new house- his castle.

Tommy heard another crash upstairs. Howls of laughter. Out. He had to get out. He turned to go.

Tommy DeBenedetto caught the movement of a baseball bat in his peripheral vision just before it landed on his face, just before everything went black.

FINIS