The Boy in the Bin

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Raphael always expressed a somewhat inquisitive mind and at every opportunity, he would try to figure out how things worked. More than once his parents needed to replace a kitchen appliance or one of the other household items because he accidentally tore them apart. Unfortunately, he couldn’t put the things back together again. A classic example came when he found out what actions went on inside the back of the television set.

He found a small screwdriver in his father’s office/workspace and took the back of the set off. Raul came in the house from work and headed to the bedroom to change his clothes. Walking by the living room, he glimpsed Raphael sitting behind the TV with a screwdriver in his hand.

“What are you doing Raphael?” He wondered.

“Hi Daddy,” Raphael boasted, “I’m looking to find out nwhat makes the pictures.”

“Put the screwdriver down Raphael,” Raul commanded. “Do you realize how dangerous playing inside the set is? Lots of high voltage runs all over and you might get electrocuted.”

“But Daddy,” Raphael whined, “How do the people get on the screen?”

Raul came over and took Raphael by the arm. He led him to the couch and sat down next to him. He couldn’t think of how to make sense and explain these issues to his son. As his father, Raul figured he needed to try; if only for the fact he did not want to keep replacing his household items

“Son,” he sighed, “I love your curious nature and would never try to hold your thinking back. Understand though, many things in this world will hurt you. This television is one . I’m not telling you because I’m mean. I’m telling you because I love you and don’t want you to get hurt.

To answer your question, the pictures on the screen come through the air; like magic. They are invisible and you can’t see them, but they work sort of like air works. I can’t tell you exactly how they get inside the set either. But I know smart men designed television to make things like your cartoon shows and the news shows happen.”

“I’m sorry Daddy,” Raphael apologized,” I didn’t mean to break nothing. I only nwanted to figure out nhow things worked.”

“I realize you are looking for answers Son,” Raul explained, “and I wish I possessed the knowledge to give them to you. For now, PLEASE leave things alone and if I can help you understand, you need only to ask me. I’ll always tell you the truth.”

Raul took the screwdriver from Raphael and knelt to replace the screws in the set. Raphael intently paid attention as his father replaced all the little screws and tightened everything up. The door in the kitchen opened and Sylvia came in from her trip to the local market. She entered the living room casually, but she showed surprise to catch Raul kneeling at the rear of the television; with a tool in hand.

“What’s going on?” she inquired.

“Oh, nothing,” Raul pointed out. “Raphael decided to try and find out how pictures got into the television set. I told him something magic happened and he may want to find out more about the process later.”

Sylvia glanced at Raphael and back at Raul. She smiled at the fact her son and his daddy seemed to bond. She walked over to Raul and gave him a peck on the forehead. As she did, her eyes fell upon a small ruby red smear of lipstick on Raul’s collar. In deference to saying anything to him, she quickly turned and walked towards the door.

“Come help Mommy put everything away Raphael.” She called back.

Raphael and Sylvia went into the kitchen and unloaded the groceries while Raul finished his task at hand. He replaced the screws to the back and returning the set to the center of its stand. He then turned the switch on to insure everything still worked properly. By default, the local news channel came on. There was a story about the police finding the body of a young teen in the Harlem River which became the center of attention.

Raul turned up the volume in time to listen to a police lieutenant talking. He explained the boy’s identity was unknown but appeared to be about fifteen or sixteen years old. Sylvia came back in the room to catch the remainder of the story.

“Honey,” she stammered, “the Harlem River is not too far from here. Are we safe?”

“Of course we’re safe Dear, “Raul assured.” They find bodies in the river every day. A generic statement like the cop made means no crime occurred here in our neighborhood.”

“I worry about crime all the time,” she continued, “mainly because everyday, someone is getting mugged or raped or drowned. The police never tell you how many unsolved crimes are on the books.”

“You’re not aware of even half of the problem,” Raul stated. “I’m glad I only handle corporate law cases. Some of my other associates are in court most time, dealing with the scum of the earth daily .”

“Is you office safe?” Sylvia worried.

Raul came across the room and put his arms around his wife. A lot of crimes went on in the city but he didn’t want to alarm her by telling any real horror tales.

“Yes dear, we are safe at my office,” he reassured, “and safe here at home too. I will let nothing happen to you or Raphael or me while I’m at the office.”

Sylvia pulled back from his embrace. Once again her eyes focused on the small red stain on his shirt. She went back out in the kitchen and got ready for dinner. Natasha left a pan of Lasagna for them to dine on tonight. Sylvia only needed to fire up the oven and in 45 minutes, they would feast on a tasty Italian treat.

Raul changed his clothes and came back out into the kitchen. He put one arm around Sylvia and with the other, brought a bottle of wine into her view.

“I thought I would make the night special,” he commented. “One of my clients, being so happy with my work, brought me this little trinket today.” He turned the label of the wine bottle he held.

“One of your clients,” Sylvia asked, “Who?”

“Mrs. Rosencranz,” he answered. “She and her husband own the Southern Hills Winery in New Jersey. I did most of the work on their merger project. She’s a little old lady from Brooklyn. She is a real go-getter but sweet.”

“Mrs. Rosencranz huh,” Sylvia muttered sourly. “Would you mind telling me, how old this Mrs. Rosencranz is.”

“Oh, I guess she’s about 70 or so,” Raul recounted. “Both of them are papered up with more money than God.”

Sylvia became somewhat somber by this revelation. Perhaps because Mrs. Rosencranz expressed so much gratitude, she gave him the wine and a kiss on the neck. This would explain the red mark Sylvia found on her husbands shirt.

“And so now you want me to worry about a 70-year-old hitting on my husband?” Sylvia joked. “I caught sight of the lipstick smears on your collar.”

“Sylvia,” Raul retorted, “Are you out of your mind? She gave me a little kiss of thank you and gifted me some wine. I don’t think believe her actions count as hitting on me.”

Sylvia smiled. In her mind, Raul properly admitted he received a kiss and this made logical sense to her. Suddenly, her dark thoughts of his whereabouts when she called and any other doubts she might harbor, dashed away to be forgotten. She hugged Raul back and kissed him.

“You are aware, I hope, I only pulled your leg a bit,” she teased. “I like the fact I can still put you on the defensive.”

“You didn’t worry me too much Dear,” Raul announced. “But now I think about her, she is pretty rich ....”

Sylvia gave him a quick little love tap and went back to preparing dinner. Raphael helped her set the table and put the place settings out. As soon as the timer went off, Sylvia pulled the Lasagna out of the oven and put a generous serving on everyone’s plate. Raul popped the cork of the wine and poured two glasses. As an afterthought, he poured a small glass for Raphael.

“Wine,” Raphael squealed, “for ME?”

“Simply a little sample for my little buddy,” Raul chuckled. “I am extremely proud of you son and when Mommy and I are proud, we like to show our appreciation.”

The three sat at the table eating, drinking and talking. Raphael told Raul about the neat new school clothes Mommy bought and how he anticipated seeing his cousin when he went back to school. After dinner, they sat down in front of the TV and put on the latest Ninja Turtle episode and later the nightly news.

Raphael enjoyed certain news stories because a lot of pretty women did the shows. He didn’t understand some stories, but they showed pictures of airplane crashes, train wrecks, and car chases. Having no real local friends, he needed to grab his excitement where he could.

After a while, the news seemed to bore him and he went to his room to read an adventure story. He kissed Raul and Sylvia and trotted down the hallway.

Sylvia slid over and put her head on Raul’s shoulder. With both working full-time, intimate moments between them happened few . She couldn’t remember the last time they sat on the couch and cuddled. The wine seemed to work its magic on her. She casually let her hand slip down Raul’s chest to the ‘Y’ section between his legs.

“Are you hinting at something?” Raul hinted with a smile.

“Aw, Gee, I thought I acted in a subtle manner,” she mused.

They both kissed and started a little serious petting. No doubt existed of Raul’s virility, as his body got worked up by the aggressiveness of his wife. He stood and scooped Sylvia up from the couch into his arms. He carried her down the hallway and into the dark bedroom where he gently laid her down.

On the way in, he kicked the door slightly closed in a fluid motion. Any outside observer could see an electric charge of wanton energy existed between the two as they pawed and kissed each other. Soon, both stripped off their clothes and lay naked on the bed.

Raul mounted Sylvia in the traditional Missionary position and began slow but rhythmic movements. Sylvia’s body responded to every push forward, every pull back, and her breathing got deeper as they progressed. The bed squeaked in tempo with the animal lust unfolding in the night. With every thrust, Sylvia would let out a small cry, while Raul found difficulty in not emitting a growling noise himself. Everything evolved so fantastically, neither of them heard the bedroom door open.

“DADDY!” Raphael shouted. “Stop hurting Mommy.”

With one hand, Raul gripped the top blanket and tumbled off the bed to the floor. Sylvia scurried under the remaining covers as if she tried to hide from an Islamic stoning. Raul wrapped the blanket around him and sat nearly at the bed to face his son.

“Daddy didn’t hurt Mommy Raphael,” he protested, “Daddy and Mommy did some wrestling. You remember wrestling from TV?”

“I saw you,” Raphael insisted. “Mommy nwas crying.”

“Mommy is OK, Raphael,” Sylvia reported from under the covers. “I’m not crying. Mommy is happy. Daddy and Mommy played like grownups sometimes do.”

“Are nyou sure,” Raphael doubted.“Are nyou sure nyou are all right?”

“Yes Raphael,” Raul said gently, “Mommy and Daddy made love. Like Mommy said, it’s something grownups do sometimes. Sometimes we do this to make new babies.”

“Babies?” Raphael quizzed. “That’s how babies are made?”

“Yes Son,” Raul assured, “and you will learn more about the topic later; when you get older.”

“Will you roll Mommy over instead?” Raphael requested.

“Roll Mommy over,” Raul responded, “Why?”

“Because I want a new puppy,” Raphael exclaimed confidently.

Sylvia let out a scream of laughter from underneath the sheets which eventually turned into uncontrollable hysterics. Raul turned and stared at her form and back to his son. He displayed a puzzled expression on his face and he felt vulnerable standing there in front of Raphael with only a blanket covering him.

For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why Sylvia continued her giggling. He witnessed her laughing before, but this outburst became something else. Every time Sylvia would try to compose herself, the vision of her day in the park with Raphael would trigger another round of laughing.

Getting caught like this affected Sylvia because she never informed Raul of the incident with the dogs at the park. Somehow, relaying information about two dogs humping got lost in her day to day life.

And that made everything all the funnier.

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