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Vita via Miccolo (Life according to Michael)
© Copyright, LdyJessika@aol.com February 2001
All rights reserved to LdyJessika – no copy, duplication, printing
This series is NOT for use by anyone - NO sites can use this story! No one! Mine!
Trust and Confidence
I learned in life the hard way about trusting and keeping my mouth shut.
Then again, I lied to myself thinking I was special and the person would never tell a confidence. Why? Well, because they
gave me their word and I trusted them. I came to learn that a person of honor whether male or female keeps their word and
can be trusted - I also have learned that people of honor are very rare. Others say they won’t repeat something only as a
means to get information from you - then a day or two later you find the information leaking back to you, the original source.
Well, I couldn’t really get mad since I was the first one that broke the confidence. But, I lost a good friend, I guess by not
being one. But from that moment on I learned how to be a person of honor and I’d never again give that up. It was not even
a confidence that amounted to anything monumental, if it did get out. But I’d given this person my word and then told
someone, of course with them giving me their word!
Michael was furious when I had to tell him that I was the one that told Rosetti about another person. It was a lesson, that as
of that day, I never told anyone anything. As Michael said to me that day you take those things to the grave, "i segreti che lei
porta alla tomba" – he’d tell me that over and over. You take your secrets to the grave. That morning I’d gone to Rosetti and
asked him why he’d told when he promised me that he wouldn’t repeat it. Michael was standing in the corner and I was so
upset that I didn't even see him until I heard that tone, "andare al mio ufficio" - He wasn't smiling and that look in his eyes sent
a cold chill hurling down my spine like an avalanche of snow breaking loose from a mountain top. I didn't say anything else
but walked into his office.
When the door closed it was if the door to a tomb had closed. He pointed to the chair, in front of his desk, instead of
pointing to the couch. I knew I was in trouble because when he said, "Sedersi in quella sedia. Abbiamo bisogno di discutere
alcuni cose." I quickly sat down but knew what he wanted to discuss. Michael only spoke in Italian when he was very angry
and with his finger tapping on the desk I knew he was furious.
"Sparky, what to you means you promise not to tell? What means you have my word? What means you will keep a
confidence? proprietary? Why the fuck did tell Rosseti about Gino and WHY the fuck did you tell him anything when you
told Gino you wouldn’t tell anyone!"
I started to explain that it was because Rossetti honestly liked Gino and would be interested - then all hell broke loose. I
finally didn't even answer until by accident when he was standing in front of me lecturing in Italian with his hands flying
everywhere he accidentally slapped me as he was ranting, "Lei non sa niente. Se lei sa qualcosa poi lei dice tuttavia che lei
non sa niente."
Michael immediately stopped yelling and laughed, "Sparky, that was an accident, even though it was a good reminder of
what you shouldn't do - but I swear I'd never slap you. You okay?"
I was holding the side of my face and my jaw was beginning to ache but I was so glad he stopped lecturing me I mumbled I
was okay. Actually I was kind of dizzy, since it was quite a crack on the side of my face and I had a red mark on my cheek.
Michael pulled my hand away and grimaced, "Oh fuck now you have a stupid red mark, why you gotta have such sensitive
skin? You are such a fucking chore! Now I gotta get ice on that." He walked over to the bar and I sat there not quite
knowing what to say so he wouldn't revert to yelling at me again.
He sat down on the couch, "Sparks, get your sorry ass over here and let me put this ice on your face before it swells and it
looks like I punched you or something." I went over and sitting down close to him looked down at the floor - his voice was
lower, "Look, ya gotta take things to your grave when someone tells ya things, got it?"
I had never gotten any message so clearly imprinted in my brain, my being and my soul so much as that day. It's a lesson
most of us have to learn the hard way and that day with Rossetti I learned anything said in confidence - "portare la fiducia alla
sua tomba" - take the confidence to your grave.
I wanted to know what if I heard anything about him and I had promised not to tell. Michael put his arms around me and
pulled me onto his lap. I felt safe. I knew the answer in that moment and when he went to speak I place my finger over his
lips, "I know. I tell you everything I hear. I tell you anything I promise not to tell anyone because I belong to you and telling
me is telling you. Do I got it?"
He held the ice to my face and kissed the top of my head, "Sparks, ya gotta tell me everything. I can’t keep you safe if I
don’t know what’s going on. Now forget about what happened today or you’ll get sleepy. Learn from it and from now on
you only tell me. Got it?
I got it!
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