The Color Red
Prior to the construction of Camelot, The Royal Trio divided their time between
Brian's loft, and Tony's penthouse four at The Plaza Hotel. Among those
cherished times was the trio's first Christmas together. The season found Justin
in a particularly festive mood, with fond memories of Taylor Christmases past.
The beaming new husband was determined to inspire similar memories within his
own unique family unit. Brian tolerated the giant tree that practically took up
the whole living room area. Leave it to Tony to go over the top for his
princess. The lavish decorations bordered on garish, and were more suitable for
a hotel lobby than a loft apartment. It seemed like such a waste of time and
energy for only one day. Nevertheless, it made Justin happy, and when Justin was
happy, everybody was happy. Brian took comfort in the fact that the
inconvenience was only temporary. Tomorrow all of that crap would come down, and
be hauled away.
Justin crawled through the empty boxes, and crumpled wrapping paper for two
final gifts left under the tree. He handed the identically wrapped presents to
his princes. "Last, but not least," he smiled.
Brian and Tony undid the silver ribbons, and tore away the golden colored foil
to reveal the white boxes that contained Justin's last selections. Brian was the
first to reach inside, and pull out a red silk robe. Ever the peacock, he
hurriedly slipped it on. "What do you think? Do you like it?" He held his arms
out, and slowly turned around.
Is there anything more sacred than the Christmas memories of a child? Gifts
under the tree, yummy treats, time spent with family, the anxious anticipation
of Santa. Unfortunately, for thousands of children lost in child welfare
systems, memories of Christmas were more often than not just another nightmare
to forget. Anthony Massey was one of those children. Tony looked at Brian then
down at the box sitting on his lap. Instantly, he was 8yrs old
again.....................................
***
A distinct creak at the top hallway step signaled the approach of anyone who
landed there. Tony had learned to dread that sound. He quickly closed his eyes,
and pretended to be asleep. The bedroom door quietly opened, then eased shut
again. "Anthony, are you awake?" an unwelcome voice whispered.
Tony didn't move, not even when he heard the click of the light switch.
"Wake up. I have something for you," the man said.
Tony rolled over onto his back, and opened his eyes. The first thing that he saw
was a red robe, made of shiny material.
"What do you think? Do you like it?" The man held his arms out, and slowly
turned around.
"Yes sir. It's pretty," Tony uttered.
"I told you to call me dad." The man smiled.
"It's pretty, dad," Tony obeyed.
"Mom is at church tonight. She won't be home until after midnight mass. I
thought we could spend some father-son time together. Would you like that?" The
man moved closer to the bed.
"I guess," Tony reluctantly said.
The man sat down on the edge of the bed, and handed the boy a gift. "Maybe this
will change your mind. Open it." He smiled.
Tony took the box, and slowly tore off the colorful paper. "GI Joe." He looked
up at his foster father.
"I remember you said that you wanted one. Now, what do you say?" The man reached
out, and stroked his fingers through the shiny black waves of the boy's hair.
"Thank you." Tony knew what was coming next.
"Good boy. Now, don't you have something for me, Anthony?" The man's hand moved
down to the snaps on the boy's pajama top.
"Yeah. I made something for you at school. It's a wallet. I sewed it myself. I
made it from a leather kit that Mrs. Beasley gave us. Mrs. Beasley said my
wallet was one of the best ones." Tony attempted to change the subject, but the
familiar look in the man's eyes told him leather wallets were the last thing on
his foster father's mind. Without saying another word, the boy unsnapped his
pajama bottoms, and slid them down to his knees. Sometimes it was easier just to
get it over with.
"Since it's Christmas, and we have the whole house to ourselves, I thought we
could do something special tonight. Roll over onto your belly for me, Anthony,"
Tthe man ordered........................
***
Brian continued to gloriously strut his stuff, as Tony fingered the lapel of his
new robe. The red material reminded him of the cheap satin that held young
Anthony down on the bed. Without warning, and only minimal preparation, an
excruciating pain seared through the 8yr old. Tony vividly recalled the sounds
coming from his foster father. They weren't the same sounds that he normally
made when he touched the boy in private places. All of the grunts, and the
moans, and the panting made it difficult to decipher if the man was experiencing
a similar agony as the boy. At any rate, Anthony knew that he didn't dare cry
out. The last thing he needed now was a whipping, especially with his foster
mother away. Such a beating could last for hours. But then again, how long was
this assault on his backside going to take? Anthony buried his face in his
pillow, and clung to the sleeves of the red satin robe. Thankfully he could feel
his foster father slowing down. It was finally over, or so the boy thought until
he felt himself being pulled back onto his knees. That was the worst. While his
foster father reveled in the new position, Anthony could feel his small frame
being split in two. Certainly, he was not going to survive. He was going to die
on Christmas Eve, which didn't seem like such a bad idea at the
time...................
***
"You haven't even taken your robe out of the box," Justin interrupted Tony's
thoughts.
By now Brian was in full burlesque mode, bumping and grinding his hips, and
using the red silk robe like a fan dancer.
"Aren't you going to try yours on?" Justin asked.
"I don't think so, princess. Let's leave the red to Brian. He seems to be
enjoying it so. Besides, red really isn't my color." Tony smiled.
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