Date: Thu, 07 Oct 1999 17:26:29 -0400
From: Charlie <charlieje@mindspring.com>
Subject: Andy 1

This story is probably different than any other you will find on the Nifty
archive. Many will not like it; I hope at least some do. It is a story of love
between two boys, and between those boys and their family. There is no
erotica or explicit descriptions of sex, so if that is your interest, you might
as well look elsewhere. I hope to present two pretty beautiful persons here
in the light in which I would like to be presented. What actually happened
between them is their secret and will remain so.

There are several rather disturbing topics presented here. These come from
my personal life experience. They did not happen as presented here, did not
all happen as described, did not necessarily happen to the people portrayed;
but they did happen! There are two main characters presented, Andy and
Charlie. They are both figments of my imagination, although Charlie has
many qualities that I either had or wish I had. There are pieces of both
Charlie and Andy that belong to me and to my lifelong lover, Kenny. If you
have read the series called simply "Kenny," you will probably recognize at
least some of them.

There is one thing I must say before I start. I do not practice, nor do I
condone sex between an adult and a minor, regardless of gender. Nor do I
condone in any way most of what happened to our young heros. They were
victims of the worst kind of child abuse: Abandonment, indifference,
ignorance. But they survived, as most of us do, one way or another. As the
story progresses, I shall add my comments, explaining how certain things
happened and what inspired me to write as I did. As I said, the major
incidents did actually happen: all of them! Toward the end of the story
there is reference and description of a boy choir and other musical activities
in Italy. This is totally and completely fictional, or at least I hope it is.
Hopefully I will explain them as we go along. I cannot do so now because
that would ruin whatever suspense I have created.

I must apologize for any errors I've made in describing life on a farm in
North Carolina. As many will already know, I grew up being switched
between a farm and a city in eastern Canada. I consider myself a country
boy and can describe life on a Canadian farm in far more detail than I'm
sure you care to hear. But I have never lived on a farm in North Carolina,
so my descriptions are far more general than I would like.

Please enjoy the story because it is only that. If you choose to comment I
would love to hear of it. My email address is charlieje@mindspring.com. This is
my first attempt at pure fiction; or is it fiction? It has certainly come from
the heart.

                I. Andy's First Day

Andy Pellerin got out of the car nervously. Every instinct in his fifteen year
old body was screaming at him to turn tail and run, but he held steadfast.
"This is your last chance," his social worker had lectured, "If you can't
make it with the Connors, you'll probably stay here in the Children's home
till you're eighteen."

OK, so it was a challenge they wanted! Well, that wasn't a good start for
Andy. He had been in foster care since he was four years old, had lost all
track of his mother. He'd been taken from her because she left him home
alone while she plied her wares on the streets of Atlanta, then locked him in
a bathroom while she entertained the tricks she brought home. Andy didn't
even know who his father was, and he doubted that his mother did either,
even if he could ask her.

Because his mother was still alive, Andy was not considered eligible for
adoption until he was ten or so, and by then it seemed that no one was
interested in a young boy who was at the age where his curiosity, and
capacity for trouble were at their peak, while his ability to use common
sense, his inclination to bond with a new family, were at their ebb. So Andy
had been placed in several different foster homes, had done his time in the
Methodist Children's Home (read that ORPHANAGE), but both Andy and
those responsible for his care had come to the point in his life where they
simply didn't consider the possibility of his ever having a permanent family.
Andy's self esteem was at an all time low, and he certainly was not up for
any challenges.

It was mid May when he'd been called to the Administrator's office. When
he entered there were Mr. Dalzell the administrator, Mrs. Flewelling his
social worker, and a Mr. Gigniac, a social worker that Andy did not know.

"We have a summer placement for you," Mr. Dalzell began after the
introductions, "And it sounds like a really good one if you're interested.
But I'll shut up and let the social workers tell you about it."

"This placement involves working on a farm," Mr. Gigniac stated, "Have
you spent any time on a farm, Andy?"
"No sir" came the reply. Was this the end of the interview then?

Seeing the disappointment in the boy's face, Mr. Gigniac continued.
"That's no problem," he said, "Long as you're not afraid of hard work."

Andy shook his head 'no.' Indeed, he found hard work, both mental and
physical, to be stimulating and inspiring!

"Mr. Conner lives on a fairly large farm in eastern North Carolina." Mr
Gigniac went on. "Every spring he takes a boy about your age to the farm
for the summer. He demands a lot of this boy, and it doesn't always work
out very well. But for those who can meet the challenge it's a real good
opportunity to learn many, many things that will more than likely be of
value as you prepare to start a life on your own. He will not have you
picking vegetables or cleaning stables all summer, he has casual workers
for that. He will have you help MANAGE the farm, keep things running
smoothly, and assist in whatever task he deems most important at the time.
The pay is not very good, in fact sometimes there is no pay at all. But you
will have a good bed, three good meals a day with a nice family, and lots to
keep you busy over the summer."

"What happens at the end of summer?" Andy wanted to know.
"You'll probably come back here to the home, unless we can place you in
foster care somewhere. The agreement with Mr. Conner does not include
supporting you while you are in school, so staying there past August is
probably not a possibility."
"What if I can't do it?" Andy said nervously.
"Andy," Mrs. Flewelling lectured, "Mr. Conner reviewed six different boys;
their history, backgrounds, current living arrangement, and he chose you.
How many times in your life have you ever been CHOSEN for something?
You HAVE to do it, Andy! You don't have a choice."
"I guess that means you think I should say 'yes'?" Mrs. Flewelling was a
bit of an old woman, but she'd been working with Andy for years and he
trusted her judgment.
"Andy, I don't know this Mr. Conner, but from what Mr. Gigniac has told
me he is a good man. He'll treat you well, demand you give all you've got,
but you'll be rewarded for every success. Yes, I think you should go. What
other prospects do you have for the summer?"

The last week of school seemed to fly by, and then Andy found himself
seated in the car with Mrs. Flewelling, heading for North Carolina. "You're
out of my jurisdiction," she explained, "In fact not in the same state! So
Mr. Gigniac will be your worker for the summer."

"Not in the same state?" Andy grinned to himself, "Well DUHHHHH! I
think I already figured that out." Then out loud he observed "Mr. Gigniac
seems nice enough, that shouldn't be a problem."

Andy didn't know what he was expecting, but the man approaching the car
certainly wasn't it. He looked about 40, was very well dressed, Andy
thought, for a farmer. He wore dark blue pressed pants, probably the pants
to a suit; a white shirt with short sleeves, and a bright red tie. His shoes
were black loafers, shined to perfection. His face was clean shaven, his
blond hair immaculate.

"Hey, Mrs. Flewelling!" the man exclaimed sticking out his hand. "I assume
this is Andy?" he said looking at the frightened boy.
"This is Andy," Mrs. Flewelling confirmed. "Andy, meet Mr. Conner."
"Dennis Conner," he corrected. "Sorry I can't introduce you to my wife,"
he apologized as they shook hands, "She had to leave early to help out at a
church social. I have to go too, but my son should be in from the back field
any moment and he'll show you around. He's sorta my foreman, and keeps
pretty close tabs on everything around here so he can answer your
questions probably better than I can."

"Son?" Andy thought. "He doesn't seem old enough to have a grown son!
Perhaps he was adopted." That was often Andy's first conclusion; being in
his situation adoption seemed almost more natural to him than having
children biologically.

"We have a rather unusual operation here." Mr. Conner began as soon as
they had unloaded Andy's luggage, one small suitcase, and Mrs. Flewelling
had taken her leave. We have a small herd of beef cattle, about 150 head,
we milk 25 cows, just enough really to support the beef herd. We have
about twenty acres of cotton, maybe 30 or so of corn, 30 of peanuts, and
almost 40 of sweet potatoes. We have another 20 or so of various grains,
just for feeding the cattle, and a 20 acre vegetable garden. Actually that's
our cash crop. We have a permanent booth in the Farmer's Market in
Raleigh which makes enough to keep us in ready cash this time of year
when we don't have any other income."

"WOW!" Andy exclaimed, "How big is the farm?"
"Small as farms go. I think altogether there's something like 500 acres.
Over 100 is pasture, and another 50 or 60 is hay."
"And that's small? Seems huge to me!"
"Farming has changed, Andy. Used to be you could raise a family on 100
acres or less, but nowadays you have to be large to survive. Even with 500
I don't know what I'd do if it weren't for Charlie."
"Charlie?"
"My son. He oversees the whole operation, takes care of all the machinery
and makes sure it's in good condition. He's a good mechanic... probably
one of the best.

"You haven't been around farms much, have you Andy?"
"Uhhh.... no sir." Andy replied somewhat apprehensively. He had already
decided that he was going to like it here, and the question gave him a
sinking feeling that his farming career was about to end before it began.
"No problem," Dennis assured him, "A few weeks with Charlie and you'll
be a veteran. He's a bit of a slave driver but you'll learn a lot. You turn 16
soon don't you?"
"Yes sir. In two weeks."
"Good. Can you drive?"
"No sir. I never had the chance to learn."
"No problem. Charlie will teach you, and then we'll get you your license.
That'll help a lot around here."
"Where's Charlie now?" Andy wanted to know.
"Out back cultivating peanuts. He should be finishing up soon."

Andy began asking questions, like "Do you have any chickens?" to which
Dennis answered yes, they had some for their own use, but he'd have to
ask Charlie how many. He asked about the market booth, and was told that
Charlie takes care of that: the staffing, keeping inventory, managing the
books. He asked about the machinery but got little information. "That's
Charlie's department," Dennis said, "Most of our machinery is quite old...
the new stuff is so expensive and Charlie is so good at keeping it running,
we save a fortune by not buying new tractors every year or so."

"I guess you could say I'm something of a gentleman farmer," Dennis
explained. "I should just sign the whole place over to him since he does all
the work anyway. I took a job with the Department of Agriculture a few
years ago, and now I'm away a lot, or working inside. Actually that's why
you're here, Andy. Charlie really needs an assistant. I only wish I could
afford to pay someone what the job is worth."

Andy assured his new boss that he understood the job didn't pay much, but
it was a chance for him to get out of what amounted to a jail for the
summer. Before they could pursue that comment they heard the
PHLUCKKK-PHLUCKKK-PHLUCKKK of an ancient two-cylinder John
Deere tractor. Turning his head toward the sound, Andy could see the big
green machine just emerging from a pecan grove behind the house. It
lumbered across the small clearing, then into the barnyard and stopped not
ten feet away from where the two were standing. Suddenly Andy was
dumb-struck! His mouth dropped open and he forgot to breathe for so long
that he grew dizzy.

Seated atop the old John Deere, which looked and sounded as if it could
have been brand new, was one of the smallest, and most beautiful, tractor
operators he had ever seen. Andy had already had a picture of Charlie in his
mind: A country boy hayseed type, probably in his 20's, maybe even with a
good education behind him judging from all the capabilities his father said
he possessed. No way was he prepared for this!

Charlie was at the very most 12 years old. And if he was indeed 12, he was
small for his age. He had inherited his father's reddish blond hair, but on
Charlie it was long, cascading in gentle curls over his neck and caressing
his shoulders. It was absolutely stunning! The cherub face wore what
appeared to be a permanent grin showing white, perfect teeth, and peeking
out from under reddish-blond bangs were two eyes that were the deepest
blue that Andy had ever seen. They looked almost fake, he thought, except
that there was far too much life in them.

The kid shut down the tractor and hopped off in one fluid motion as he
called "Hey, Dad!" with his very immature voice. Walking up to the pair he
never took those beautiful eyes off Andy, sticking out his hand as soon as
he was close enough to reach. "You must be Andy," he said pleasantly,
"Boy, am I glad to see you! I'm Charlie."

Andy was totally speechless. First this little kid had come riding up on a
large tractor that had dwarfed him; he had been awestruck by the beauty of
the small head atop that body; but now the entire body, what there was of
it, was standing one foot away from him, holding its hand out to him.

It was a warm day and Charlie had obviously been working most of it. He
wore a pair of pretty typical Oshkosh bib overalls, except for one thing:
The legs were cut off and hemmed neatly just above the knees. He had no
shirt on and had obviously dressed this way a lot, for his whole upper body
and legs were tanned a deep golden color. Andy couldn't help thinking
how cute this kid looked in those shortalls, revealing his smooth tanned
skin, his tiny flat nipples, arms and shoulders that were somewhat on the
skinny side and devoid of any shape, but in their own way impressively
sturdy looking. The bare legs that exited below the shortalls were very
definitely those of a small boy, not a man or a teen. Then to top off the
whole package, as Andy looked down his eyes missed those of Charlie and
continued on down and saw just the upper edge of pure white boxers
peeking out from the side gap in the shortalls.

Andy had never before felt any attraction to men, and certainly not little
boys! And Charlie was unquestionably a little boy. I mean, a LITTLE boy!
And Dennis had just told him that this child would be his boss, would teach
him all the in's and out's of the farm, would even teach him to drive! But
those revelations paled compared to the absolute beauty of this creature
standing looking up at him with his hand extended.

Charlie had been quite apprehensive of receiving yet another teenager from
Social Services. There was no question that he needed the help; things
were easier now that school was done for the year, but on the other hand
things always got busier, more intense in the summer time. He wished that
his father didn't have to work off the farm, but he realized it was necessary.
There were so many bills, so much that had to be done and couldn't
without money to pay for them. But most teenagers simply would not take
orders from an eleven year old pipsqueak. And anyone on this farm had to
take orders from Charlie, because more often than not Charlie was left in
charge.

Charlie Conner considered himself a born farmer. He absolutely loved his
life, and prided himself on keeping things running like clockwork. He took
no crap off anyone, but at the same time he was warm and friendly to any
and all who responded to a positive but businesslike attitude. Charlie was
one of those rare individuals who knew he was smart, knew he had a good
mind, was good looking and talented; but there was no conceit. Charlie
was just Charlie, the farm kid.

Which is not to say he didn't know how to use his many talents to
advantage. So when his father told him that a fifteen year old from Atlanta
was coming to spend the summer, Charlie's feelings were mixed. Yes, he
needed the help. But he certainly didn't need the added hassle of
convincing some high and mighty city kid that he was subject to a very
small, very immature boss for the summer, like it or not.

As Charlie piloted the old John Deere out of the pecan grove towards the
barnyard, he had spotted the two figures standing waiting for him. By the
time he stopped the tractor and shut it down, he had checked out the new
addition pretty carefully. And what he saw, he liked.

What he saw was a pretty handsome teenager, about 5 feet five or six
inches tall. He was dressed in oversize shorts which came to just below his
knees; his hair, a dark brown, was cropped short in a 50's style haircut. The
arms protruding from his form fitting T-shirt were well defined, but not
huge. For a city kid, Charlie thought, he looked like he could probably do a
day's work with a little prodding. As he got closer he saw the deep, dark,
liquid brown eyes. They were eyes, Charlie thought, that could love
passionately, but never had. They were eyes that told Charlie of all the
heartbreak, all the anguish that Charlie knew existed, but had never even
begun to experience. They were eyes, he thought, that gave Charlie access
where no other access existed: to Andy's very soul! And Charlie's
apprehension of the coming summer vanished. He knew that this would be
a summer that would change both their lives forever!

Eventually Andy came back to earth and realized that Charlie had been
standing there with his hand extended for.... how long? A minute? An
hour? Three days? Andy had no idea. But he took that hand and shook it.
It was a tiny hand, but Andy noticed immediately the strong grip; the
incredibly long fingers; the perfectly sculptured fingernails; the confidence
it communicated. There were no callouses, nothing rugged about it, but on
the other hand there was nothing soft about it; there was nothing to
suggest that it was the hand of a pampered little kid who had never known
hard work. There was more in that handshake than either boy could
possibly realize. Something electric happened when those two hands
grasped each other.

It should be pointed out here that Andy had never been attracted to another
male; actually he'd never been attracted to anyone really. So it wasn't as if
he was out 'shopping' for a lover, male or female. Truth be known, at this
moment he had no idea what was happening, only that something was
happening and that it was incredibly good! Even now as he grasped that
strong, small, confident hand, the thought of sex never entered his mind;
but what did occur to him was that an association with this gorgeous little
creature was for life! A summer of close contact followed by nothing was
simply not acceptable, not going to happen, no matter what!

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off?" the voice cut through the
atmosphere as the two boys gripped and shook each other's hand endlessly,
each staring into the other's eyes as if in a trance, "And show Andy
around?"
"Sounds good Dad," Charlie answered, "Can we take the pickup?"
"Sorry, dude. I have to take the pickup to Raleigh to a meeting. Your
mother has the car at the church. So I guess you'll have to take the big
truck or the Honda."
"OK, thanks Dad."

"The Honda," as Andy discovered soon enough, was a Honda four-
wheeler. "I use it for herding cattle," Charlie explained as he cranked it up,
"Checking of the irrigation system and generally checking on the workers."
"Irrigation system?" Andy inquired.
"Yeah. We haven't had to use it yet this year; but sometimes it gets so dry
we have to add water to the crops so they won't dry up. We've hooked up
a system that puts water in the ground where it does the most good
without waste, and so far it's worked out really well. But when it's running
we have to check it several times a day. I'm gonna break one of my own
rules and go without a helmet this time," he went on, "'cause it's easier to
talk. But that means we won't be able to go very fast. And this is the last
time you're ever gonna ride on this thing unless you have a helmet on, ok?"
"Gotcha!" Andy replied. To his astonishment he realized he'd just accepted
an order from this little guy and hadn't even realized it.

As the two boys went putt-putting out of the barnyard toward the rear of
the farm, Andy thought he couldn't possibly have designed a better
situation if he'd been given the chance! He placed his hands on Charlie's
bare shoulders for balance. There was that electric shock again! He could
feel the muscles in those slender shoulders as Charlie maneuvered the
Honda along the road... well, TRAIL would be more descriptive. It was the
most awesome sensation!

"You might want to try holding me around my waist," Charlie suggested,
"Most people find it's easier to hold on that way." Andy was quite content
feeling those deltoids and other muscles expand and contract, but he
followed Charlie's suggestion. What he found was a very flat stomach, very
firm, and even through the bibs of Charlie's shortalls he could feel the
muscles flexing there too. It was really difficult to concentrate on what his
young chauffeur was saying, and Charlie was babbling on endlessly.

The two boys drove around the farm for almost an hour, Charlie pointing
out the various fields and what was growing there. They visited the three
ponds on the farm, which provided water for irrigation. "They're also
stocked with catfish," Charlie added, "And we'll probably be able to go
fishing Sunday afternoons if you like."
"I've never been fishing," Andy announced.
"Never?"
"Nope."
"Well, you're in for a treat. My dad and I love to fish, and we do it lots.
Sometimes at night, sometimes we even go to the lake, but mostly we just
come to the ponds cause that way we don't even have to leave home."

Andy noticed immediately, as they rode around the farm, that he was
hearing "my dad" as frequently from Charlie as he'd heard "Charlie" from
Dennis. "My dad taught me how to fish." "My dad showed me how an
engine works." "My dad explained why we have to keep the fields
cultivated." And on and on, ad nauseum. It was obvious to Andy that these
two worshiped each other, and that made Andy envious. He had never
really loved anyone, and he longed for a relationship such as Charlie had
with his dad. And then his fantasies started going wild, imagining that he
was Charlie's brother. In fantasy he was a part of this family; it was he,
Andy, upon whom his father, Dennis, depended and Charlie was a very
competent little brother. Keyword LITTLE.

                   *     *     *

Andy lay in his bed, staring at the blackness that would have been the white
ceiling if there'd been any light at all in his room. His first day on the
Conner farm kept whizzing round in his mind. What had he got himself
into? What was happening? What had that kid done to him?

The remainder of the afternoon had seen the two boys roaming about the
farm on the 4-TRAX, then returning to the barn to prepare for milking the
cattle. They had passed several young men working in various fields, all of
whom spoke to Charlie, and all of whom Charlie had introduced his new
friend as simply "Andy. He's gonna be working with us for the summer."
By the time they had returned to the barnyard, Andy had learned to drive
the Honda, had watched as Charlie helped correct a small mechanical
problem on a machine that was digging sweet potatoes, and watched in
awe as he had an argument with a man three times his age and four times
his weight. The man had tried to intimidate his young foreman and failed
miserably.

At the barn, Andy learned how to operate the milkers, learned about
sterilizing the cows' teats before applying the machines, how to check to
see if the cow was 'done,' and what to do with the milk afterwards. He had
learned to milk a cow manually, even thought Charlie explained that they
hardly ever did it this way. "But once," he grinned, "The milkers broke
down and we had to milk 'em all by hand. It took all freakin' day!" They
finished the milking, put the cows out to pasture, then thoroughly cleaned
the milking machines and stable, then went in to dinner just as Charlie's
mother arrived from one direction, and his father from the other.

The evening was yet another surprise for Andy. Charlie and his mother had
retired to the living room as soon as they had eaten and began singing and
practicing the piano. The pianist was Charlie, not his mother! His agile
fingers wandered all over the keyboard, playing with the expertise and
confidence of one several times his age. Was there no end to this kid's
talents?

At bedtime, which was about 9:30, Charlie's eyes had suddenly got even
brighter as he said "You can sleep with me if you like, so I can tell ya more
about what we're gonna be doing tomorrow." YESSSS! Andy thought to
himself. He didn't know why, but the thought of sharing Charlie's bed was
beyond his wildest dreams. But then those dreams were shattered.
"Not tonight, Charlie," his mother scolded, "I know you... you'll keep
Andy up half the night yakking, and 4:30 comes awful early."
"4:30?" Andy questioned.
"That's what time we get up." Charlie explained.
"I've got the spare room all set up for you," Mom Conner told him, "So
you'll have your privacy and be able to get some rest." But I don't WANT
to get rest! Andy was screaming within, I want to sleep with Charlie. But
that didn't happen.

It's gotta be a dream, Andy thought. Or maybe a setup of some kind. No
kid could do all that he'd seen Charlie do today. He was a tractor operator,
lead mechanic, labor planner; he could drive a truck, a 4-wheeler, a tractor;
he could carry a milking machine that weighed half again as much as he
did, and had no fear at all of animals, even grown men who tried to push
him around. He was pleasant, but could be threatening when riled. And
nothing riled him more than someone doing less than his very best. To top
it off, he played the piano beautifully and sang like an angel! Yes, that was
it! They had set Andy up, making him believe that he was to be assistant to
some sort of super kid. Why would they do that? Andy had no idea. But if
it was to impress him, to make him putty in Charlie's hands, they had
succeeded wonderfully. Andy's body shuddered as he thought of spending
the summer with this tiny adonis. Those shortalls; the slender tanned body;
the formless, yet muscular arms and shoulders! The eyes! The hair!

Why was all this important to Andy? He had no earthly idea; but it was.

                   *     *     *

Charlie was lying in his bed, or at least on it, thinking of the day's events.
He was so excited he was trembling. He thought of Andy, how well they
had got along; he thought of how quickly the other boy had learned all the
tasks and principles Charlie had thrown at him; of how they had almost
instantly become good friends, and how willing Andy was to work. He
thought of other things too. He had noticed immediately how great looking
Andy was. And that handshake! Charlie had felt something akin to a bolt of
electricity course through his entire body as the two boys shook hands. He
had never felt anything like it before, but it was unmistakable! And it was
far from unpleasant. And the ride on the Honda! Andy's hands were first
on his shoulders, then around his mid section, and the sensation was
incredible! He must find an excuse to go riding the four wheeler again
tomorrow.

Charlie's mind started to wander, as it often did, making a fantasy of the
whole situation. In Charlie's mind Andy was not a foster kid from an
orphanage, he was Charlie's long lost brother, and that any moment now
his dad would come bursting into the room announcing the whole scenario.
The thought of having a big brother was very appealing to Charlie.

Why? Charlie had no idea, nor did he even think about it.

What would they do as brothers that they couldn't do as friends? Nothing
much really, except perhaps to share more of their lives, go to school
together, tell each other their secrets. But most important, Charlie thought,
was that as brothers they wouldn't be saying good-bye again in August.

Two months! That's all, just two months, and they'd be parting, perhaps
forever! The thought sent a chill down Charlie's spine. He'd only known
this kid for a few hours, and already he was dreading losing him again.