Bluntly Speaking by Bob Publicover

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Joey Politano was a good kid. He got good marks. He treated everyone good. He was well liked by his small circle of friends. Then came that fateful day. Joey came home and said to his Mother and Father, "Sit down, Mama and Papa, I have to talk to you.  My news is not good."

They were a typical Italian family, if there is such a thing. Papa was 61 years old, a big man who had come from Sicily when he was a boy with his family. Mama was a bit younger and married him when she was 18. They had 5 children including Joey who came late in life. He had worked hard to pay his family’s way. Mama had taken good care of them through some tough times.

The three Politanos sat down in the living room. Mama turned down the soap opera on tv. "This is not easy but I have to tell you." Joey spoke first.

He looked worried. Mama could sense something was very wrong. "What is it baby, what do you need to tell us that is so important?" she asked.

He took a deep breath. "I’m gay." He quickly addded, "I just found out that I have HIV, the virus that causes you to get AIDS. I’m ok right now but I don’t know what will happen in the future. I could get very sick, I could even die."

Mama’s face fell, she began to cry softly. Papa sat and fumed and nothing was said for a minute. He got up and spoke very loudly.

"After all we have done for you, you come home and tell us you have a fag disease and you’re one of them. Maybe you should die." Papa raved on for a good five minutes saying things that made the other two in the room cringe. Mama cried more.

"Now, get your things and get out of my house." Papa’s face was rapidly turning red. "I’m not having no perverts in this home. You get out and don’t come back. You are not my family anymore."

Joey knew better than argue. He went to his room and packed what he could in two suitcases. As he started out the door, Mama walked over to kiss him, tears still in her eyes. "Mama" yelled Papa, "come here." She turned and went to him.

"I love you mama and Papa." Joey walked out the door.

In the next two years, Mama would sneak in a phone call to Joey when she could. They talked long minutes. Papa never once mentioned his name. Then nearly two weeks went by when she only got his answering machine. She began to worrry. A few days more of no answers and she wanted to say something must be wrong but she did not dare bring up the subject to Papa.

The phone rang when Mama was upstairs cleaning.  Papa got out of his heavy chair and picked up the old fashioned receiver.  "Hello, is this Mr. Politano?"

"Yes, you gotta Joe Politano, who’s this?"

"This is Dr. Snow at Mass. General Hospital in Boston. Your son Joey is here and he is very sick. He said you might not take my call but I want you to know how very ill he is. He has Pnumosistis Pnumonia. We dont know how long he has to be with us. I know that no one has been in to see him. If you want to see your son, you need to get here in the next few days or it may be too late."

"Yeah, ok.." Papa slowly hung up the phone.  " Mama, come down here."

Six members of the Politano family and a couple of cousins gathered around Joey’s bed at the hospital. He was thin and looked as pale as one can. His face was sunk. They had been there for 3 days, always someone at his bedside. There were flowers and cookies in the room. No one was sure if Joey could see them. He could not speak because of the breathing apparatus.

The bell rang to signify that visiting hours were over. The group filed slowly out of the room, each of the women kissing Joey on the forehead. Each of the men, touching his shoulder. They were all in the hall except Papa who remained behind.

He leaned over and took Joey’s hand in his. Papa whispered in his ear, "you get better and come home, we’ll take care of you, I love you, my son." He kissed Joey on the forehead, a tear in his eye.

They went home.

Two weeks later as Joey continued his amazing recovery, the family all came once more to take him home to his own room.  He spent the best two years of his life in that home.

This is an excerpt from "The Last Brontosauras" a book in progress by Robert J.L. Publicover. To donate to Bob’s Committee For A Response to AIDS which helps PWA’s, send a donation to 47 Madison St., Som. 02143.