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      	  B Ben's Journal 
 by Dee Gilles	

 Disclaimer: For entertainment only.

 Author's Notes: Part 4 in the "Benny and Ray" series

 

 NOTES FROM THE JOURNAL OF BENTON FRASER Rated PG By Dee Gilles

 20 September 1997 Saturday 23:45

 Even though it was Ray's birthday today, he has given me a present. This
journal. So much like Ray, always thinking of others on a day when he's
entitled to thinking only of himself. Ray's asleep now, after a long day
of well wishes, a veritable birthday feast that Mother Vecchio prepared,
and a Bears game that Tony and I treated him to. 

 Yesterday we also had a birthday celebration at the station. It started
out rather rocky, with Ray having to endure an interrogation about some
missing heroin from the evidence locker. The whole thing was ridiculous
really, and thankfully, we were able to get everything squared away within
a matter of hours. We had a traditional Yukon celebration, and I
introduced everyone to activities like bobbing for trout. Lieutenant
Welsh, in particular, took a real liking to it. It was nice that we had
time to enjoy a little downtime at the station. I believe that today's
eclipse put people out of sorts, and temporarily abated criminal behavior.


 After we returned from the football game today, and I had slipped out of
my clothes in preparation for bed , Ray softly tapped on my door. He
called to me to come to his room for a minute, and left without waiting
for a reply. I put on my robe and softly treaded down the hall. The rest
of the family was asleep at this late hour. I was exhausted myself, but if
Ray wanted me, I had to respond. When I got to his room, Ray was in his
pajamas, and the bed was turned back invitingly. It was so quiet, I could
hear crickets chirping outside. It felt like there was nobody in the
world, except for Ray Vecchio and me, tucked away in a softly lit room on
this warm September night. Like the world existed only for us.

 Ray was standing in front of his closet, reaching for the shelf above for
a box. Wordlessly, he handed it to me, and inside there were five
leather-bound books. I opened the first one, and saw that it contained
only blank paper, and instantly understood. He said, "I know you lost all
your dad's journals in the fire, and there's nothing I can do about that,
but I thought I'd at least give you your own." 

 It seems fitting to me that I would begin this journal with Ray. Living a
life that included Ray Vecchio was essential to me. I realized this after
I returned from my holiday in Canada, and there he was, waiting for me at
the station. The days up north were empty and I understand the simple
truth of Thomas Wolfe when he said "you can't go home again." Tracking
criminals for days on end simply did not give me the satisfaction it once
did. Despite the exhausting days of chase, I couldn't sleep. I would lie
awake in my bedroll at night, staring up at the stars, wondering what Ray
was doing. No doubt since I was not there to disapprove, he was
participating in poker night with his errant gambling partners. I hoped he
was not having too good of a time without me. 

 I felt so secure with Ray. Even when I returned home to find my apartment
on fire, I felt not a moment's despair because Ray was with me. Losing my
few things in the fire meant little to me. My biggest regret was the loss
of Dad's journals and my family photos. I had felt fortunate that I had a
few photos with me and a few memories were spared from Victoria's arson of
my father's cabin. Now, not even that was left. Were I Ray, I'd say all
these events were a sign. I'd say that maybe God was trying to tell me to
separate from my old life, that I no longer belonged to Canada, and that
it was time to let go of the past. That my life was here in Chicago with
Ray. In fact, God seemed determined to keep pushing us together until we
were literally living under the same roof. I was surprised at how easily
and quickly I got used to living in this large household. I was easily
worked into the bathroom schedule. Since I was the first one to awaken in
the morning, I was first to take my shower, if I did not take one the
night before. Of course, privacy was a thing of the past. I'd been walked
in on in the bathroom or in my room more times than I cared to admit.
People simply didn't knock. Dief had had his tailed stepped on more than
once, too, but he shrugged it off easily enough. He was in Nirvana, with
so many more hands willing to feed and rub him, and plenty of children
with which to play in the spacious back yard. 

 Despite the fact that I have known Ray for some three years now, I'd
realized just how little I understood him before. He is a different person
while at home. He lets his guard down. He is often quiet, preferring Maria
and Mother to run the house and issue directions to keep all operations
running smoothly. He's more pensive than I have ever witnessed. He often
looks after his niece and nephews, and is very playful with them. He is
very affectionate. Sometimes when walking into a room, he'll greet me with
a noisy kiss on the hair or the temple, grasping by the back of the head
or the cheek like his mother often does to all her loved ones. I don't
even think he realizes he was doing it. He often kissed and hugged Maria.
Unlike his relationship with Francesca, Ray and Maria's had a quiet and
respectful aspect to it. They almost seemed to have a psychic connection,
each understanding the other with very little words. 

 I must say that I understand why Ray treats Frannie the way he does. The
woman can be grating. She has a way of simply not noticing when she is
being abrasive, silly, or obtuse, which makes it even worse. It does wear
one's patience down. Dieffenbaker, oddly enough, loves her dearly. The two
of them have been very beholden of one another lately. He follows her
around the house sometimes like puppy, begging to be petted and fed. He's
quite shameless about it.

 When Ray gave me the journals tonight, I hugged him. I believe this is
the first time I've ever initiated a hug. Ray is so thin. I could feel
every bone in his shoulders and back. He squeezed me surprisingly tightly,
making me realize his thinness was not to be mistaken for frailness. "Good
night, Benny." He said to me. Benny. I love that he calls me that. No one
does. Dad called me Benton. Tony and Maria call me Ben, and Mother Vecchio
calls me "Benito". Francesca usually opts for "Frase", which I don't
particularly care for, but I've given up correcting her.

 After we released from our embrace, I started to go, but then turned back
toward the door on some half-understood impulse. "Ray," I asked, "May I
sit with you a little?" 

 Ray slipped into bed and held the covers up for me. Even though it was
warm, I slid in alongside him. We talked about nothing special for a few
minutes. Something he said reminded me of an Inuit story, which I shared
with him. I know Ray is quite fond of my Inuit stories. He finds them
fascinating, although he puts on a great show of being annoyed with me.
During my second story, went on for some twenty- seven minutes, he drifted
off to sleep, snoring reassuringly. It is then that I picked up a pen from
his nightstand and began to write. It is late. My eyes are grainy. I have
no desire to leave this comfortable bed, full of my best friend. I'm
putting this aside now, so that I may turn off the lamp, curl up, and join
Ray in slumber.

 28 September Sunday 05:00

 Yesterday will be a day that I remember for the rest of my life. I
couldn't have asked for a more fulfilling day. I arose at 04:30 and had a
good long walk with Dief. The morning was cool, and crisp. Fall was in the
air. Dieff and I ventured out of our haven of Little Italy, and explored
the Loop. Even though the Consulate was located there, I seldom had
occasion to learn the streets. Coincidentally, I discover a street near
the consulate called Benton. Dieff and I also walked to Millennium Park
and the Art Institute. I mentally noted to return there when it was open.
We returned to Little Italy via the North Side and West Town. My feet were
a little achy upon our return, but it felt good. I had been gaining weight
at the Vecchios' at the rate of 1.2 pounds per week (and Dieffenbaker not
far behind), so we both needed the hearty exercise. 

 Although the rest of the family was up and very active, Ray was still in
bed when we returned. Dief and I took turns rousting him, but he was not
at all appreciative. He reacted rather like a hen doused with water, I
have to say. I reminded him that he was the one who asked to be awakened
in the morning so we could go shopping for clothes. I needed a few more
shirts and another pair of pants, and Ray had insisted that he accompany
me. 

 Ray bought a new car shortly after the Riviera was burned, and I must say
it was rather sharp, a black 1995 Buick LaSabre. He was regretful at
first, of not getting another Riviera, but once he got used to the sun
roof, the CD player, and power steering, locks and brakes, he loudly
proclaimed that he couldn't believe that he had put up with the old
"shitbox" Riv for so long. The day he bought it, we both took personal
days, and he took me for an extended drive, out of the city. He wouldn't
allow Dief within five feet of it, much less in it, so Dief stayed home
with Mother. It was the first time I had been alone with Ray for an
extended period of time since my visit to Canada. Our aloneness now felt
different. More intimate somehow. On impulse, he ended up driving us to
the place where he was born, Valparaiso, Indiana. He still had cousins
that lived there. He showed me his old house, a little cottage on a side
street in a well kept old neighborhood with rows of manicured green lawns.
We drove to Indiana Dunes, where we got out for a long walk, and then sat
in the sand and talked before heading back to Chicago. 

 It was a wonderful gift of a day. For the tenth time since living with
Ray, I asked myself where I would be, what I would be doing, if I didn't
know Ray Vecchio. I was grateful to Ray for staying in Chicago. I had
learned about the plan to send him to Las Vegas, and that would have meant
a large career boost for him, perhaps even a place in the FBI or CIA if he
chose. But he didn't take the assignment. He put me above himself, and I'd
forever be grateful to him for it. I shutter at what my fate would have
been without him. I think I'd be miserable-lonely, and perhaps even
unhinged.

 By the time we left the house yesterday to go clothes shopping, it was a
little later than I had hoped. Ray was feeling a little lackadaisical, and
was slow to get motivated. As we pulled out of the driveway, I told Ray
that the thrift shop had perfectly fine, gently used clothes that would
allow me to stretch my dollars to their maximum value. He said that was
fine, but that he wouldn't allow me to buy my suit there.

 "Why on earth would I need a suit, Ray?"

 "For next weekend," he said.

 "For...basketball?"

 "No, knucklehead. Next Saturday night, I'm taking you to dinner at
`Giordano's', and then, you and I have front row tickets to "La Boheme." 

 "Pardon?"

 "La Boheme. You know. The opera."

 "Ray, I didn't think you knew anything about opera, or cared."

 "Benny. I'm Italian," Ray said, as though that explained it all.

 "I can't let you do that, Ray. It's too expensive."

 "Money's already spent, Benny. Got'em when you were in the Territories."

 "You didn't have to do that. I don't know what to say."

 "Say `thank you'"

 "Thanks, Ray."

 After I picked out three new flannel shirts and a pair of good wool pants
from the thrift store, Ray took me to his favorite shopping
establishments, where we both bought new suits, Ray claiming it was
pre-emptive of this next loss by my hands. Naturally, I begged to differ.

 I also met another member of the Vecchio extended family yesterday. Ray's
cousin Valerie Russo lives on Lakeshore Drive, and is a successful
investment banker. We visited her condominium and were treated to a very
satisfying, richly seasoned lunch. The view of Lake Michigan was
spectacular from her expansive windows. Her condominium was spacious yet
somehow cozy, and her style clearly reflected a Mediterranean influence. 

 Ray called Valerie a `real brainiac, ever since we were little kids." She
is five years older than Ray, and has the same hazel green eyes and narrow
face. It was uncanny to see features I associated with Ray only on someone
else's face. But I was extremely at-ease with her; it was much like
talking to Ray himself. 

 Valerie also joined us on a peaceful boat cruise on the Chicago River.
Ray had been wanting to take me for a year, and he finally insisted that
we do it today, before winter came and we were forced to wait yet another
year. Ray drove us to Navy Pier, and we boarded a small tour boat. Because
it was so late in the season, the boat was not at all crowded. We spent
the afternoon in the warm orange sun glow, floating peacefully along the
river and locks, gazing at various buildings and landmarks. 

 Upon returning to the pier, Valerie and Ray wanted to go for drinks. We
found an intimate little pub nearby. I indulged in a glass of Merlot as
Ray and Valerie caught up on family news. Mostly it was about family I
didn't know and hadn't previously heard of, but a lot of it was about Ray
and me. Ray told her about how we had met, and how I came to be living
with him at the moment. He also told her about how I'd forced him to
dumpster-dive among maggot-ridden rubbish, his favorite story; how I once
used him as a human fulcrum; and also how he'd paid dozens of people to
listen to me filibuster at town council, which was something I was not
aware of. I need to ask him for more details on that tomorrow. I cannot
believe all the things that Ray has done for me. 

 I also got a little insight into Ray's family's background, which I
thought was very interesting. As Valerie seemed very willing to impart
knowledge of their family history, I took the opportunity to ask a few
questions. Ray always seemed so reluctant to talk about his family in a
lot of detail, because it was "boring", but Valerie had no such
reservation. 

 Valerie said that she and Ray were quite close as children. Ray's mother
and her mother, Marie Therese, are sisters. They lived across the street
from Vecchios, and she, Ray, and Maria used to play together. She said
that Ray was the one sent around the neighborhood looking for his father
when he was gone from home too long, which she thought was a precursor to
Ray's career as a police detective. Ray became very adept at finding Uncle
Sal. Her father moved the family out to the suburbs when Valerie was
eleven. She and Ray rediscovered their friendship when she came back to
attend college at Northwestern.

 The sun was setting on my perfect day by the time we left her. For some
reason, Ray felt it was necessary to tell me that his cousin was a
lesbian. I didn't know how I was expected to respond to that bit of news,
so I said nothing. Ray joked that she was the only kind of woman that
could be trusted around me. 

 We went home, and I helped Mother Vecchio with dinner preparations.
Frannie was out on a date with a young man, Tony was working, so it was
just myself, Ray, Mother, and Maria and her children. I was suddenly
exhausted at the table. Mother and Maria shooed me upstairs to bed and
they cleared the table. Ray decided to stay up without me and watch a
football game. 

 Time to end this entry. I'm accompanying Mother to the early mass this
morning, and if I intend to walk Dief before we go, then I have to do so
now. I am enjoying attending mass. I've done some research on Catholicism
these past few days, and I find that while some of their social codes are
a bit outdated by today's standards, and are a complete denial of
individual human nature and group social behavior, at the heart of it lies
a pure and noble effort, a desire to help those less fortunate, and a
drive to seek out love. I've mentally outlined few questions and key
points to bring up to Father Behan after mass. I am curious to know where
he himself stands on family planning, allowing married men into the
priesthood, and on homosexuality. I'm looking forward in engaging him in a
lively discussion that will no doubt challenge us both

 . 30 September Tuesday 21:15

 After several months of intense study and hard work, the 27th's own
Elaine has become our newest member of the force. She graduated at the top
of her class. Ray and I were so proud of her, watching her cross the stage
to accept her diploma from the Academy. Ray especially, although I could
tell he was sad to lose her. After several days of much deserved vacation,
the new rookie will be reporting to the 13th Monday morning. They wanted
to fast-track her to detective, and we knew she'd be working with the
ex-husband of Louise. St. Laurent's associate, Stella Kowalski. But her
primary job would be in a patrol car cruising The Loop, so it was possible
that I would see her out and about on my errands for the Consulate. I hope
it will be a long and achievement-filled career for Elaine. Lt. Welsh, Ms.
St. Laurent, Detectives Huey and Dewey, Ray, Francesca, and I all took her
to Scarpetta's to celebrate. 

 I was also glad to see Ray and Francesca back on speaking terms. For two
days, those two did not speak to one another. Ray found out last month
that Francesca intended on taking Elaine's place as civilian aide at the
station. He did not think there was any chance of getting the position at
all, due to her apparent lack of qualifications for the job, but somehow,
she managed to get a second interview. Ray told her in no uncertain terms
that their was no way that he was going to allow her to work at the
station and nag him all day. And not only that, he claimed she only wanted
the job so that she could flirt with me all day, and he wasn't about to
have some floozy hanging on me all day, being a distraction, whether it
was his own sister or not. 

 Tensions exploded over dinner Sunday night when she announced that she in
fact had learned on Friday that she had gotten the position, and intended
on accepting after considering it all weekend. Ray jumped up, knocking
over his chair, and cursed her in Italian, and Francesca responded by
throwing dinner rolls at his head. Ray reached over and grabbed her
throwing arm, pulling and twisting. Tony and I had to separate them, but
not before Francesca managed to land a smart slap across Ray's cheek with
her free hand. Mother yelled at Ray for cursing his sister and pulling her
arm, and Maria screamed at Francesca for slapping Ray and throwing things
at him. Ray viciously jabbed me in the ribs with his bony elbow for not
allowing him to take out his frustrations on Francesca. I yelled at him,
startled and hurt, and he yelled back at me, not at all contrite. Maria's
baby started crying, and Tony yelled at Ray and me for yelling and
upsetting the baby. I somehow ended up with a clump of peas in my hair. In
the end, Mother sent us all to our rooms to cool off. I went to bed with a
throbbing headache, yet I also felt that I had passed some Vecchio family
rite of initiation somehow. I was a real Vecchio at last. Oh, dear! Or
rather, Dio Mio!

 4 October Saturday 23:30

 I am getting fat and happy. Despite some exercise, I have gained another
1.4 pounds this week, but it was also a wonderful week. Thursday night,
Ray treated me to dinner in Greek Town, and took me to a movie called
"L.A. Confidential". It was a fascinating movie, full of intrigue and plot
twists. I had picked the movie, and Ray had agreed to go only to see "that
Kim Basinger, she's a hottie", although he fell asleep a half-hour before
the end of the movie. 

 Last night, we went to the YMCA and played basketball. Ray somehow
finagled me into his family membership (using the name Benny Vecchio) so I
wouldn't have to pay. I thought this was very dishonest and insisted
vehemently that I get my own membership and pay. But Ray wouldn't have it.
Sometimes it's best not to argue with the man. Instead, I made a
charitable contribution to the organization, equivalent to what I would
have paid for my membership. This morning, I had the most invigorating
swim. 

 I was back at home before Ray was even awake. I have discovered that Ray
had rather stay up until the middle of the night, and sleep the day away
if left to his own devices. He was often irritable if I awakened him too
soon. Three days ago, he even chased me down the stairs because he was so
enraged that I woke him up at 5:30. I easily evaded him by ducking
underneath the dining room table, staying just out of arm's reach. Ray
quickly grew frustrated. After cursing me, he then curled up on the
chesterfield in the front parlor, and slept for another two hours. Ray
swears he does not remember this. 

 I was often left with a lot of free time during the weekend days and
weekday evenings, so I made myself useful by helping out around the house.
It was the least that I could do, as neither Mother nor Ray would take
money for my keep. This weekend, I repaired a leaky faucet for Mother,
helped Tony scour the neighborhood dumpsters for recyclables that could be
redeemed for cash, and accompanied Francesca to the market for veal.
Tomorrow after mass, I will be taking Maria's children to Arrigo Park so
that she can have some quiet time to herself.

 As he promised, tonight Ray took me out to a wonderful eating
establishment on Taylor Street where we both stuffed ourselves with pasta
and meats. Ray drove us to the Opera House for the most amazing production
of La Boheme. 

 We had the most titillating conversation on the drive home. I brought up
the subject, once again, of finding my own apartment soon. I have brought
this up several times in the past month, but Ray always changes the
subject. I was little more insistent this time.

 "Whatsa matter, Benny? You wanna move out so you can bed beautiful women
in privacy?"

 "Now, why would I want a woman when I have you, Ray?"

 "Well, Benny, I can think of a few reasons."

 "No, Ray, I just don't want to keep imposing. And this is not about me
wanting to sleep with women. Nothing could be further from the truth."

 The sentence was left dangling there in the open air for a while. We were
both silent for a long time. I could tell by Ray's body language that he
had a question inside of him. I patiently waited for it to come out.
"Benny...no judgement here...I've been meaning to ask you for a long, long
time...You like guys?"

 The question floored me and I can feel myself growing hot.

 "In what sense, Ray?"

 "You know what sense I mean."

 "Well, I like you, Ray, and you're a guy, so ergo I like guys."

 "Sexually, okay? Sexually. Truth."

 A month ago, I think I would have skirted the question, but since living
with the man, we had had a lot of late night talks. I had slept with him
in his bed on two different occasions and Ray had opened up to me in a way
he never, ever had. There were quiet nights when he put all the masks
aside, and he was just Ray, a scared boy sometimes, and loving and
amazingly gentle at other times, someone who could take a secret to his
grave if you asked him to. 

 "Well, Ray, I do subscribe to the philosophy of the Kinsey scale, that
sexuality is a dimmer switch, or a sliding scale that can be altered based
on one's life experiences, and opportunities. For me, the soul is much
more important than what someone's gender happens to be."

 "So...you're saying you're bisexual then, right?"

 I sighed. "Ray, I'm just me."

 "So, if the right man came along, you'd sleep with him?"

 "I believe I've already answered that. Why do you ask, Ray?"

 He shrugged. "I was just wondering. That's all."

 "Does it bother you?"

 Ray considered the question for a full minute. "Nah, Benny. It doesn't
bother me. I only wanted to know." It seemed to satisfy him, so he
switched gears. "The music was good tonight, no?"

 "It was amazing. What voices."

 "The Marriage of Figaro is coming in January. Wanna go?"

 "Why, Raymond Vecchio, are you becoming an opera fan?"

 "Benny, I'm Italian. We invented opera."

 "Ah," I said.

 "What do you mean, `ah'?"

 "Nothing, Ray."

 "I hate it when you do that to me. You know this, right?" But he
chuckled. 

 By this time, we had pulled into the driveway. We softly treaded
upstairs. The stairs creaked loudly in the quiet house. 

 Ray stopped before I went into the spare room that I had been calling my
own over several weeks. "Benny," he stage whispered. "Did you have a nice
time?" 

 "Ray, I always have a nice time with you." I took a step closer. "And
please don't feel obligated to spend a lot a money on me, Ray. It doesn't
matter what we do, as long as we're together. Pizza and beer is just as
nice."

 Ray's face lit up with the brightest smile I'd ever seen. "Really?"

 "Really. `Night, Ray." I smiled back.

 "Night, Benny." But Ray stood rooted to the spot, gazing at me. I entered
my room. I finally heard his footfalls and his door open and close several
beats after I gently closed my door. I stood leaning against the door for
a few moments, contemplating the question of exactly at what moment had
Ray Vecchio fallen in love with me.

 Finis 

  
  

End B Ben's Journal by Dee Gilles 

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