Trio - The Power of Music

by Delorita

I thought Damian was going to die, the way he looked at Alberto and me. We sat in the visitor's room of the jail in which my sweet musician had been arrested. He was allowed to meet us for just a few minutes. Bars and a wall of glass separated us.

Although Alberto used comforting words to speak to him, Damian didn't say one word. He looked terrible. Absolutely destroyed in his soul. I laid my hand against the glass and hoped he would do the same but he didn't. He just glanced very sadly at me with his big brown eyes. I could hardly hold back my tears. I wanted to embrace him, to hold him. I tried to find some cheerful words too but everything I said sounded so stupid to me.

I just now realized how much I was in love with Damian. I missed him so much in my everyday life. Him and the days before everything changed.

***

We got to know each other in the art school in Madrid. My friend Julia and I, who were ballet students, and Thomas, Alberto and Damian, three very likable musicians. We became a really close bunch of friends. But we weren't couples.

Damian always has been my favorite of the guys, since the days he peered curiously into the room where we had our dancing lessons. Julia and I often whispered about how cute he was, with his head full of black wild curls which almost covered his dark brown intense eyes. He gave us a half boyishly curious and a half male seductive glance. I could have drowned in those eyes. And we never could stop giggling until our teacher firmly closed the door in front of Damian's sweet nose. With the coat he wore in winter he looked like a teddy bear to cuddle with.

But I was afraid to lose our friendship by forcing him into anything. So I admired his wild good looks from far, enjoyed every embrace for hello, every kiss on the cheek as usual between friends.

I liked Thomas and Alberto a lot, too. Julia and I were always their audience. We couldn't get enough of their music. The Trio consisted of Thomas, who played the piano, Alberto, who played the bass, and Damian the violinist. They were so good that Thomas and Damian considered going to New York. One day they recorded a tape to apply at Julliard. Although they were good before, we never heard them play like that. The classical music flowed across the room like hundreds of butterflies, like sunbeams in spring. It was magic.

Damian played the violin with closed eyes, totally lost in the music; only now and then he looked at the notes. In full concentration his tongue sometimes slipped across his lips. I sighed because I wanted to catch it with mine.

It was weird anyway to see Damian play the violin. I had always imagined that people who do something like that are old and wear boring clothes. Nothing interesting at all. But he was something else.

First thing, I could hardly get my eyes away from his fingers and the way they moved gracefully to get those special tones from the instrument. Second, I often caught myself staring at his arms. He used to roll up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows when he played. I wanted to find out how the dark hair felt beneath my fingers.

And the third thing drove me the wildest, his skintight jeans. I wondered how he was able to sit without getting hurt in certain places. And he really had something to hide. I could see it when I secretly stared at the front of his pants, what I even dared to tell Julia...

***

On the Monday when everything started to get worse, we all five sat together in our favorite little restaurant. I sensed that something was wrong since the night before when I went to the opera with Damian, Thomas and his mother.

She had invited us from time to time and normally it had been a joy. Damian and Thomas were like brothers because they had known each other since they were twelve. Since then they had also been a musical duo.

Thomas' mother liked Damian a lot and treated him almost like her own son. But this last visit at the opera was strange.

The next day in the restaurant, after we all got our drinks from the waiter, Damian cleared his throat and said, "I won't be a musician anymore."

I changed a shocked glance with Julia, who asked as though she didn't understand right, "What?"

Alberto also looked very surprised at his friend across the edge of his glass of wine then turned to Thomas. But he only sat silent, staring down on the table. Alberto asked Damian again, "What did you say?"

Damian emptied his glass at once and repeated in a whisper, "I wont be a musician anymore."

I caught my breath then faced him. "You don't believe that yourself...you are going to New York with Thomas next month, aren't you?"

"No."

He just said and poured more wine into his glass, drank it all at once again. All of us looked puzzled at Thomas when he finally started to speak, "My mother won't support Damian anymore. She won't give him the money to come with me to New York." He swallowed hard then continued, "...because of his...of his radical political opinions. Because he won't stop demonstrating against the Franco government."

Both young men still held their heads down. No one knew what to say. I admired Damian for his strong mind but on the other hand I wished he would give in and choose the music instead those dangerous political fights.

On impulse I laid my hand on Damian's, who played nervously with a package of cigarettes now. He looked shortly at me and gave me a sad smile then covered my hand with his warm fingers. I had a hard time not to bend down and kiss those slender long fingers which were able to do miracles with the violin. I couldn't imagine that he wouldn't be a professional. That he even might lay his beloved instrument aside completely. A cold chill came slowly up my spine.

The following Tuesday became the worst day in my life.

Julia stood in our hallway. Her face red from running, she gasped,

"Turn the TV on, the news channel!"

I did as she said and immediately I saw what she meant. We saw a crowd of people at the screen, alarm signals, police, horses, yelling, shouting.

My heart couldn't go any faster. I sat on the sofa, my hands clasped across my mouth. I sensed something terrible. Then we saw him at the same time.

"Dios mio!" Julia groaned.

I could say nothing. My mind only repeated ,

No, no, no, NO!!! NOT HIM!!! NOT DAMIAN!!! POR FAVOR!!!! NOT HIM!!!

But Franco's policemen made a circle around the demonstrators, slapped them with their sticks, kicked them with their boots. We saw clearly that Damian yelled something at one of the officers. For that he hit him across the face, kicked him in his stomach until Damian stumbled forward. Two mean officers pulled him to an open truck, where several of the demonstrators sat in pain already. When the car drove away the news changed into other things.

I was on the floor on my knees and was not able to stop crying, heavy sobs shock my body.

"What...what will they do to him, Oh dios mio..."

Julia got down beside me and we held each other. Her face was wet from tears too. I felt her body tremble. I don't know how long we sat like this. The fast ringing of the doorbell startled us. I opened and immediately fell against Alberto's shoulder. He was crying himself, took Julia into his other arm and several minutes we only wept. Until I asked again, "What will they do to him?"

Alberto guided us to the sofa, shook his head. "I don't know." He was devastated too.

"Where is Thomas?" Julia whispered.

Alberto took a deep breath then murmured, "On the plane to New York."

***

The next month was just a blur in my mind. The three of us spent the days beside the phone, read newspapers, watched all kind of news, tried to talk to the police to find out to what place they had brought Damian, what happened to him.

We weren't ourselves anymore. My head and stomach ached all the time. I started to pray that the worst had not happened.

After four painful weeks Alberto suddenly called me in the middle of the night to tell me with excitement that he found out where they kept our friend and that two persons were allowed to visit him for some minutes. I felt a rock fall from my heart, "He is alive! Thank God!"

But when I met Alberto to drive with him to the prison he looked very seriously at me and said, "I heard they tortured him."

I got a new shock and swallowed hard. "Oh my God!" I hesitated then asked, "How?"

"I don't know. I wasn't able to get more information."

The whole way to the prison I rocked back and forward on the passenger seat. I was so nervous and anxious. When we arrived, Alberto laid his arm around my shoulder and soothed me saying, "Hey Chica, everything is gonna be alright. " He tried to smile at me. "You surely don't want to cry in front of him? "

I nodded, "No, I won't. I promise."

***

After that first fateful visit we were worried almost to death. Since Damian didn't speak one word to us we thought they'd cut out his tongue. I was not able to find sleep at night. All the time I saw those big, sad, helpless eyes in front of me. Damian, who was so full of life and naughtiness before, had become a broken man.

And I loved him. I saw it so clearly now.

I got out off my bed and wanted to write a letter to him. But all my thoughts were gone and I couldn't help it, I wrote on a whole page of paper just four words over and over again,

Querido Damian. Te quiero.

I wanted him to know it. I hoped it would make him feel better a little to know someone was out there who loved him.

Alberto found out, that they had hurt Damian's left hand. HIS LEFT HAND! The left hand of a violinist! I felt a stab in my stomach when he told me this. I ran into the bathroom and threw up.

Alberto didn't know how much our friend was injured so we kept the hope that he'd be able to play sometime again.

It also had been a pain not to know when we'd be able to visit him again and how long he'd be in jail. Not to think about what else they may do to him.

I wrote more letters but never got an answer. I felt like I was going insane. I listened to the Tschaikovsky tape the trio made for New York, for hours and hours. I knew it was wrong but I did it nevertheless. I saw Damian play in my mind. My face was swollen from tears; my body was limp from not eating. I had to stop my study of dancing.

Julia continued hers but without joy. She and Alberto became a couple through that time. But they still didn't neglect me like Thomas neglected all of us. We heard nothing from him personally, except sometimes he was mentioned in the newspapers. He had become very successful in the USA. I was very thankful to Alberto and Julia because they cared so much for me although I surely behaved awfully.

After months and months we were finally allowed to visit Damian again. Alberto came with me but insisted on waiting outside.

"Tell him that you love him!" he said before he left me alone in the visitor's room.

When Damian came into the room behind the window I felt the desperate urge to hold up my arms to him, to press his head against my shoulder. He looked more awful then the first time. His eyes were without statement, his body weak. I almost couldn't bear it. But he whispered this time,

"Hola Marisa." And sat down opposite me.

"Damian, I…" My words faded. I was not able to speak. It was a joy and a pain to see him again. I searched for words.

"Are you married now?" he asked, his voice hoarse from not talking.

I looked puzzled into his sad eyes and replied, "Didn't you get my letters?"

"What letters?" His eyes started to become alive a bit, "No, I didn't get any letters." He laid his right hand against the glass. "I thought you'd forget me..." he sighed.

I shook my head in disbelief and laid it against his hand, sadly aware of the window between us and the very fast running visit time. My body ached for him and I looked up to meet his glance.

"I wondered why you didn't answer."

"Dios..." he murmured, "And I wondered why you didn't answer mine..." He stopped because the policeman entered the room.

"I wont marry," I said hastily. "I will wait for you, Damian. I love you."

He gave me a sad smile, "Don't wait, querida. It will be too long."

With that the policeman pulled him up and thrust him towards the door. He was not able to glance back at me before the door closed behind them.

***

I cried for days. My life was emptier than before. I never got a letter from Damian and stopped writing myself since I knew now he'd never get my lines. Those mean people! How could they do something like that? My heart was going to break. I wasn't able to look at other men. I didn't want to. I never would.

I wanted to die.

One day Alberto handed a tiny gray little something to me, gave me a squeeze on my shoulder and said cheerfully, "I think you should read that."

Alberto's behavior made me curious and a glimpse of hope came into my mind. I opened the often-folded piece of paper very carefully. There were just two lines, I love you too. Will you wait for me? D.

I almost fainted. I first kissed the paper, then kissed Alberto.

"How did you get this?"

"I have my connections in the meanwhile, as you know." He winked at me.

With that day I started to live again. I searched for a job and an apartment. I wanted to get everything ready for my beloved man. For our life together. No matter what happened to him I would help him to try to forget it.

When I visited Damian after awful long weeks we have had only five minutes. It was cruel but better than nothing. I sat as close to the window as it was possible and when he sat down in front of me I didn't waste time and whispered, "I'll wait for you."

He whispered back, "Te quiero." And blew a kiss over his hand to me. I didn't know he was able to be so romantic. I have had the feeling his black eyes caressed me and already were more alive. I blew a kiss back to him, wishing so much it could have been a real kiss. Damian seemed to read my thoughts and said, "Just a few more months, mi amor." And I really saw some sparkles of joy came back into the deep sadness of his eyes. I gasped when he smiled.

***

Finally those "few" months were over. Julia, Alberto and I were waiting across the street for Damian to leave the jail. We didn't know the time when exactly he'd come out but we were patient. My stomach tickled since the last evening. I felt like I'd swallowed thousands of butterflies.

When the prison door finally opened and Damian stepped outside into the sun, I held my breath. He looked splendid. I almost didn't recognize him. The last time I saw him, he was weak and seemed sick and destroyed but now he looked like the crazy boy I knew before he came into jail.

I couldn't help it, I had to run. He smiled broadly, dropped his suitcase down and started to run too.

We met in the middle of the street and didn't care about the traffic. I finally held my Damian in my arms. He covered my face with tiny gentle kisses.

"Marisa, Marisita...finally!" He pulled me close with one strong arm.

" It has been an eternity..." I entwined my arms tightly around his neck and our lips met immediately. I felt a deep groan came from his throat and he pulled me even closer. The kiss became deeply, hungry, devouring. The time stopped. I pressed my body so close to him that I could feel his warmth and that he became aroused as hell suddenly. Had there not been honking horns from the cars all around us, I would have ripped his jeans off of his gorgeous body right there.

But the noise brought us back to reality and we laughed and fast got away from the street.

Alberto got Damian's suitcase in the meantime and now the men hugged. I saw a tear beneath Damian's closed lids. He also embraced Julia. Neither of us was able to speak.

The only thing I wondered briefly was that he did everything with his left hand in his jeans pocket. He only used his right arm. I hoped the injury wasn't that bad.

Then he turned back to me and reached for my hand, pulled it to his mouth and kissed it. Looking straight into my eyes, he asked, "Do you want to marry me?"

Since I wanted to ask him the same question right in this minute, I wasn't able to answer. I just took his sweet face into my hands and kissed him gently before I smiled into those big eyes and replied, "Si. I want to."

His curls shaded his eyes when he asked, "Right now?"

"What? Right now?" I giggled. "Of course!"

"Let's do it!" He took my hand again, gave a wink to Alberto and we started to run.

I knew the Church wasn't far away and I loved that idea. It was wonderful to hold his hand. He was powerful again and I never felt that happy before. We laughed and giggled all the way, didn't care if our friends would follow. Often we stopped and kissed.

"I love you," He whispered into my ear. Then pulled me further. He was like a kid in high spirits and so was I.

When we reached the Church, our friends were there too. And now I sensed they had arranged everything already. Alberto handed something to Damian and when he turned to me he held out a single red rose. "For my bride." I was overwhelmed to tears.

It was funny to marry in jeans but it didn't matter. I remember nothing of the priest's words because I imagined all the time how those warm fingers of Damian would feel on my body. When he put a beautiful small golden ring onto my finger I was in heaven. Drowning in his heavenly glistening eyes.

After the ceremony Julia said, "We did the important things before your wedding. Now we leave you to yourselves to do the important things after." She winked at me and we all laughed.

***

"I don't find words," Damian said, surprised when he stepped into our apartment, still holding my hand.

"I can't believe it's ours." He closed the door and we kissed again. I couldn't believe I'd have him that close now all the time. I sighed with joy.

He sat down on the sofa and pulled me into his lap. I snuggled against his shoulder and we couldn't stop kissing. He stroked my arm and I played with his curls in his neck like I always wanted to. They felt silky and thick. I sucked at his tongue playfully and he discovered my mouth with his. It was like we both didn't want to do more just to enjoy each other's mouths.

Suddenly we had all the time of the world. I felt that he was exhausted. Probably he hadn't slept the night before either.

"I love you so much, Damian," I whispered and pulled him down with me to lie in the cushions. He rested his head onto my breasts and started to caress my thigh. I felt the heat rising inside my body but when I tenderly stroked his back I noticed his regular breathing. He fell asleep.

I smiled for myself and thought my poor boy must have been so exhausted. My face buried in his hair, my arms tight around his body, I drifted off to sleep too.

The early birds and driving cars outside the window got me slowly awake. I lay snuggled in Damian's embrace now. It had been not a dream.

I sat up and looked admiringly at him, let my fingers slide through his black curls again. He was so beautiful. His luscious mouth slightly open like an invitation for a morning kiss. His lashes caressed his tanned skin. I didn't want to wake him, he slept so peacefully. But I promised myself as soon as he would open his eyes I'd have him before breakfast. I could hardly wait.

But when I looked down I got terribly scared. For the first time since he was free I saw his left hand. He had hidden it the whole evening in his jeans pocket. Now I understood why. I knew he was tortured in jail. But I didn't know how much. I sucked in a deep breath. The tears were rising into my eyes. "Oh no!" I whispered for myself. Now I realized why he was so sad and depressed all the time when we did visit him. I started to cry in low sobs and bend down to kiss each of his damaged slim fingers with which he had played the violin like a god. I didn't notice that I repeated the words "That can't be true, that can't be true" til I felt his other hand on my cheek, wiping my tears away.

" Marisa..." he whispered and lifted my chin so I could meet his glance. "Don't cry." His eyes were also full of tears but he smiled.

"But you won't..." I couldn't finish that terrible sentence.

" No, I won't." He kissed me lightly with a sob in his throat but then sat up. "But I'd like to show you something."

He got up, opened his suitcase and took out...A TRUMPET!! I didn't know what to think of it. He bent down to me, kissed me again and then he started to play.

I sat stunned. He must have tried this since I left him months ago. It wasn't professional playing but it sounded good already. I couldn't believe it. What a guy. MY guy.

When I saw him use the new instrument so determined to control it I couldn't resist anymore. I wanted him right now. I wanted to be his instrument. I walked over to him and while he pushed the buttons of the trumpet with his slender fingers I started to kiss them. He stopped and laughed.

" I wanted to do that since the first time I saw you play..." I let my words drift off. I was scared to mention the violin.

Damian laid the trumpet aside and pulled me close. "Te quiero, Marisa. Te quiero mucho." I slid both my hands into his curls and pulled his head so close to mine that our lips touched when I whispered, "Damiancito, mio." He closed his eyes when I breathed into his mouth, "I'll never let you go again."

And then we made love.

Never in my wildest dreams I had imagined it like that. I don't remember how we got our clothes off. I just remember his burning mouth on my skin, his caressing fingers and his power when he held himself up on his right arm to be joined with me. I remember his groans and mine, his lustful sighs of my name when I slowly moved myself up and down on his luscious cock. I remember his moist tongue, soft but insisting, the way it circled my nipples, touched and licked my neither lips. I remember the strong muscles of his thighs which I finally slid along with my tongue, upwards to caress his balls, his black pubic hair, his hard erected shaft. His husky groan, "Marisa...oh Marriissaaaa..." made me tremble. I felt his fingers always all over me, inside me. When not his penis filled me completely it were his slim fingers.

"I love your hands," I whispered. I didn't leave out his hurt arm. I blew across the soft black hair, kissed it along its full length while he closed his eyes. I moved my swollen neither mouth carefully across his poor fingers and his pleasurable "Ohhhhh" let me know that not completely all nerves of this hand were dead.

When I started to move back and forward gently, he opened his eyes and smiled at me, used his right thumb to caress my clit. I sighed from the depths of my heart, massaging his again rigid hardness. I felt that unbearable wonderful tickling between my thighs came up for the fourth time. I quickly bent down and sucked his cock hard. I trembled and shuddered all over. It was heaven. His breath came in heavy gasps when he spilled all his white juice into me.

I collapsed onto his smooth stomach and faced Damian. We had to catch our breath for several moments.

I let my hand slide upwards his chest, through the black chest curls, which I just discovered completely today. "You impressed me." I smiled when I traced the line of his full inviting lips.

" Really?" He looked playful. "You impressed me too."

I laughed. "No, well, yes, the sex too. But I meant the trumpet. Where did you get it and who gave you lessons?"

"Oh you mean the trumpet..." His forefinger stroked my nose.

"Well, shortly after you visited me the last time, there have been musicians in jail, to entertain us. I didn't want to go to listen to them. But then the music caught me. They didn't have a..." He swallowed, " ...they have had a guitar, drums and a trumpet. So I went to hear the last bit of their songs. They were really good and I thought I should tell them. So we talked for a while and they were surprised how much I knew about music. When they asked why, I just said that I used to be a musician too."

He paused for a moment, shaded his eyes. I stroke each finger of his hurt hand, got a knot in my stomach when I looked how damaged they were but nevertheless I entwined mine with them. He smiled at me and continued.

"And I got an idea. I asked if I might get the trumpet to look at. But in that moment an officer came to get me. I must have looked so desperate that the trumpet player said, 'keep it, I have another one and we are back next month anyway.' He even gave some music to me." Damian sat up and leaned against the headboard of the bed, pulled me against his shoulder and kissed me gently on the mouth.

"I was afraid that officer would take the trumpet away from me but to my surprise he didn't. The stuff of the jail had changed completely. The new crew was more human and they probably thought I wouldn't be able to play anyway. They allowed me to try it 30 minutes a day. And well you heard how far I came."

"Is." I started to caress his legs again because the softly black hair and his muscles were so tempting. When he sighed and I saw how he got aroused again I turned to face him.

"I have another question." I sat on his thighs and looked straight into his warm eyes.

His hand slowly moved downwards my back. "Is?"

"How did you get that gorgeous body back?" I started to slide with my hands tenderly across his hipbones, his flat tummy, felt the silky skin. "The last time I saw you you were thin and seemed so sick." I sucked his nipples naughtily to get a deep groan from him. Then he laughed.

"You know..." Playfully he licked one of my nipples too and the overpowering heat climbed up my spine again, but he leaned back and continued, "When I knew you'd wait for me I looked into the mirror and thought, boy you look awful, Marisa won't let you come near her with those looks. So I began to play soccer with some guys. I guess it was worth the effort." He winked at me and his hand reached for my butt when I laughed and nodded.

"You can bet on that. I want to eat you up!" With that I leaned forward to kiss him wildly, pushed my tongue passionately in his mouth to meet his. He sucked mine hard and sensuously. Slowly I lowered myself onto his hardness again when he squeezed my behind and moaned hungrily.

***

The next few weeks were very funny. I had saved some money and so I took a long vacation because I was not able to be parted from my Damian for just one minute.

He told me that he wanted to become so good with the trumpet that we could live from the money he'd make with his playing at fiestas, etc. We wouldn't need the support from any other people. I knew immediately what he meant and I was full of hope that he would reach his goal. Because I saw in his sparkling eyes that the love for the music had filled his whole being again in the same way like the new love to me.

Our days were like that; Lovemaking, trumpet lessons, lovemaking, trumpet lessons, gorgeous food which I created for him since it was so awful in jail, and a bit of sleep.

Sometimes he sat naked on the bed or just with unzipped jeans and played the trumpet. When he got better and better I started to dance for him. Then we ended up laughing in a tight embrace whether on the floor or on the bed. We couldn't get enough of each other's bodies...

***

I admired his patience. He tried one part of music so often til he didn't need tones anymore. I didn't get tired of his playing even if it was sometimes the same song all day long. We were lucky that we had no neighbors in that time.

But I had to admit to myself that I nevertheless missed the sound of the violin. But I said nothing because the two words he never mentioned in all that time were violin and Thomas. And when I watched him sometimes from the distance I saw him stare at the floor or at his left hand. From time to time he massaged it but then shook his head or threw himself into the cushions and glanced at the ceiling. Those gestures made me almost sick. But when he realized that I came near him his behavior changed immediately. He didn't want me to know about this.

One day, when Damian played "El Mundo" and a few other songs to his own satisfaction, we invited Alberto and Julia to come over for dinner. We hadn't seen them for about two weeks because we wanted to surprise them.

When they arrived Damian disappeared into the bathroom and when he came back, the trumpet in his hand, I almost didn't recognize him. He looked simply gorgeous. He had slicked back all the curls and wore a black suit, white shirt and black jeans (it seemed he could never get parted from his jeans, except in bed). We all had to catch our breath.

Then he began to play. His left hand in the pocket of the jacket, his eyes closed. The wonderful cheerful music flow through the air.

Alberto again and again shock his head and whispered with a smile, "I can't believe this. This guy is unbelievable."

When Damian stopped and bowed the room was full of our cheering laughter and clapping. Alberto made a toast, " To our trumpet player!" And the men embraced.

"You are going to be a professional with that," Alberto smiled.

" I want to but I don't know..." Damian hesitated.

"Come with me to the studio for more lessons from our trumpet player." Alberto laid his arm around Damian's shoulder. After a few seconds he nodded, "Gracias."

After our friends were gone, Damian came to me and sat beside me on the sofa.

"You have been incredible," I whispered into his ear when I climbed behind him. "But do me one favor." I laid my arms around his chest and pulled him close. He leaned against me, smiling into my eyes.

"Is, mi amor. Everything you want." He kissed me lightly when I slid my fingers through his smooth hair.

"I want your curls back after your performance!" I said with an insistent voice. His already big eyes became bigger with surprise.

"You don't like my new look?" I swirled his wet strands of hair between my fingers.

"I do! I love it! But you look so mature with this hair style " I kissed his forehead. "I prefer my crazy boy."

We started to giggle, and when he covered my neck with tiny kisses he repeated teasingly, "Claro, claro. I understand, Senorita." And with that he tried to make a ponytail with my hair, one of the kind I always wore when we met years ago.

*** The lessons with Alberto's group did help Damian a lot to improve his skills with the trumpet. After a few weeks he started to look for work and so did I. We desperately needed money now.

I had become a tailor after I quit my study in dancing. And when I found a job in a small village in the mountains Damian luckily found work there too. He'd travel around with some other musicians in that region, playing for fiestas and other events, teaching some music lessons beside that.

This living certainly wouldn't make us rich but we'd have the two things we wanted to have -- his music and being together.

They had got what they wanted of Damian in jail, that he'd stay out of politics now. They made him quiet. In a strange way I was glad about that but certainly not about the price he had paid. And who knows if his revolutionary temper wouldn't come back sometime again?

***

After six months or so we almost felt at home at the tiny village. I was just about to get ready to the summer fiesta at the market place when the door bell rung. I opened the door and immediately I stood in shock. And so did the man who stood opposite me.

It was Thomas.

We stared at each other and were speechless for a few moments. He was been the first who found his voice. "Buenos dias, Marisa." I couldn't believe that he found our home. Or had Alberto told him?

"I've searched the whole countryside for both of you." Thomas explained softly. I still didn't find my words. There he was after such an awful long time. I didn't expect to see him again. I got a strange mixture of feelings. The old anger came up what he and his mother did to Damian but in the other hand I was glad to see my old friend again.

He asked me why Damian didn't answer all his letters. I didn't want to answer either to that question but I was impressed that Thomas had searched for us through the whole mountains. I finally gave in and told him what happened in jail. His breath stopped and he didn't know what to say.

Suddenly in the distance of the market place a trumpet started to play. A wonderful melody. I knew it was Damian. But Thomas seemed to sense it immediately too. He turned his head puzzled into that direction where the music came from. As though he'd recognize his friends way of creating a wonderful song, no matter the kind of instrument he used. To see that moved me deeply and I started to forgive Thomas.

Together we went to the fiesta. The people were already dancing and laughing. Damian stood on the stage, completely drowning in the song he played. Thomas stared open-mouthed at him, shook his head several times. I didn't know what to do. When I looked around I noticed Alberto at the edge of the crowd. He glanced intensely at his friend on the stage until he stopped. Alberto directed Damian's glance into Thomas' direction. My heart slowed down almost to zero. The men looked at each other for a tiny eternity. Damian became pale. I could read the same mixed feelings on his face like I have had them before.

Dios mio, what will he do? I thought when he came down from the stage and into our direction. I saw it clearly, he was very embarrassed and so was Thomas. They stood there, silently, facing each other. Finally Damian laid his right arm around Thomas' neck and they hugged tightly. I was so happy to see that. Alberto pulled me close, he was happy too. It was such a great moment. The friends who used to be like brothers had found their way back to each other.

When Damian had to get back on the stage and bend down to kiss me, Alberto pretended to hit him on the chin playfully, the same way he did when we all were much younger. We laughed.

Thomas couldn't stop staring at Damian's hidden hand but Alberto directed his glance back to the stage.

My heart jumped wildly when I saw the happy glittering smile in Damian's eyes while he played "El Mundo" now. This time his performance was been for Thomas, to show him that he still was a musician with his whole heart and soul.

All the people danced around us. I knew from the neighbors and from many other people that they loved my husband's trumpet solos. His music was cheerful and made them happy. And this fact made us happy. At least I thought so...

We celebrated until far after midnight that we were together again. We decided to call Julia and Carol, Thomas' American wife, to join us the next day to do some sightseeing. We acted totally crazy in that evening. We danced all together sometimes, we giggled and sung and drunk too much.

When I danced a fast waltz with Damian he was not dizzy at all, guided me surely all over the place -- which was amazing after several whisky and beer and with just one arm -- but he pulled me so close that I felt the need to rub my pelvis against his hard member and gasped into his ear, "Let's go behind a bush, I need you inside me."

He kissed me hard and groaned back through the loud music, "That's a terrific idea but what are the others doing?" When we saw Alberto and Thomas in a deep conversation we left behind a big bush. I opened his jeans with shaking fingers and he lifted my skirt. My nipples were hard as iron but I got a bit afraid suddenly.

"The people can see us. Everybody knows us..." I massaged his now free hard penis with my hand despite my words. His fingers were already beneath my panties and about to enter me.

"They all are drunk and sleepy." His voice trembled inside my ear. "Is, you are right. Lift me up." I knew he had that strength. I entwined my arms around his neck and sucked the smooth skin of it not to scream out loudly when he lowered me onto himself.

"Dios mio..." He gasped. "That's great!" I sighed and moved myself up and down a little. But I was so hot that I got an intense orgasm only by that movement. Damian chuckled, "Eh you are fast and...Oh my god..." He couldn't speak any more, just shudder and jerk inside me. It was such a funny experience. We got our clothes in the right order and kissed for a long time. When we got back to the others they looked knowingly at us and we all laughed again.

On the way to our home in the early morning Damian was totally drunk. Thomas and I helped him along the street. He sang all the time and kissed Thomas on the cheek and me on the mouth, he was so cute and happy. But when we sat him down on the armchair in our living room, he suddenly looked so sad at me like in jail and a deep sob came from his throat. He took my hand and pulled me onto his lap. Then laid his head against my breast and I had to bend down to understand what he was saying.

"I...I miss my violin..." He sobbed against my dress, "...my violin so much…oh Marisa..." Now he cried like a little boy and I did too. Lost in our sad embrace we forgot Thomas totally. I was embarrassed when he touched my shoulder and whispered, "Look at that." It was a business card with a strange phone number. I looked again. Written on it was,

Dr. F. Leal, surgery of damaged bones and nerves.

I looked back at Thomas with a questioning glance.

"Alberto just gave it to me." I shook my head. "But that's in Switzerland. We don't have that much money..." I caressed my Damian's shoulders and rocked him like a baby. He was asleep already.

"But I have," Thomas smiled at me. "I want to help you both."

When I started to protest he added, "And besides I long to hear him play his violin beside me again. I still have it."

I couldn't believe what he was saying. " You think this doctor could help?"

He shrugged. "I hope so. It is worth a try, don't you think?"

I didn't know if I should laugh or cry again so I just answered, "Let's tell Damian tomorrow, he has to make the decision."