Date: Sat, 30 Oct 1999 01:59:39 -0400
From: Charlie <charlieje@mindspring.com>
Subject: Andy-14 (Young-Friends)

            XIV Charlie's Performance

Friday morning, and Charlie was ready to go home. He had called at 7 am
to make sure they'd be coming for him. "Bring me that pair of white
shorts," he instructed, "That cool red shirt I like, an' a pair of white boxers.
Oh, and NO DIAPER!" He was happy and excited about the prospect of
going home, and about the fact that he had awakened this morning, naked
except for the hospital Johnny shirt, and still dry. Of course he still had the
catheter in, but he at least got to feel what it was like waking up with no
diaper on and still dry. The doctor had instructed him to take it easy, not to
lift anything more than a quart of milk for a week or two. Karen had
laughed when he said he had clearance to sing tomorrow night. "It's
obvious," she commented, "The doctor has never seen the energy he puts
into his singing."

"Good morning, young man!" a pleasant well dressed man said as Charlie
was finishing his breakfast. His catheter had been removed, a less than
pleasant experience, but it was gone now, time to get on with life.
"Good morning." Charlie returned cheerfully.
"I am Dr. Melville... er...." he checked the clipboard in his hand... "Charlie?
Is that right?"
"Yes sir."
"Charlie or Charles?"
"Charlie."
"Ok Charlie, I'd like to talk with you a while. We're gonna become good
friends, because I've been assigned as your counselor while you're in
hospital."
"That won't give us much time," Charlie said as he arranged the remains of
his tray, "Cause I'm going home today."
"Yes, so I understand. But you'll be back, right?"
"Yes sir, I'll be back Monday but only for the day."

Undaunted, Dr. Melville opened the pad on his clipboard and forged ahead.
"I understand you had a pretty traumatic operation yesterday."
"It wasn't too bad."
"What do you think of it?"
"It's ok."
"What does your mother think?"
"I dunno. I guess they hate it happened."
"You think maybe she thinks of you as something other than a boy now?"
"I dunno. Maybe."
"What about your father? What does he think about never having
grandchildren?"
"He can still have grandchildren. I've got a brother."
"He's adopted, right?"
"Yes sir."
"Then that's not the same, is it?"
"I dunno why not. What's the difference?"
"Don't you know? Why don't you tell me the difference?"
"I already told you, I don't know."

The more the doctor pressed, the more nervous and defensive Charlie
became. Dr. Melville was scribbling like mad on his clipboard, just out of
Charlie's vision range. The more evasive Charlie became, the more he
wrote. And the more he pressed.

When the family got to the hospital, they were shocked at what they found.
Charlie was still in bed and made no move to get up when he saw his
family. He had been crying, a lot judging from the condition of his face.
"Hiya Champ!" Dennis said cheerfully, trying to ignore what he'd seen.
"Hey Dad." came a listless response. He acknowledged his mother and
brother, but just barely. "Charlie," Karen said, "What's wrong?"
"Nuthin'" he answered, "Can we please just get outa here?"
"What happened?" Andy demanded as he helped Charlie out of bed, "You
were in such good spirits earlier."
"Andy," Charlie cried as he threw his arms around him, "Please Andy,
don't go! PLEASE don't go!"
"Go? I'm not going anywhere, I already told you that."
"But... but Dr. Melville said... said... that they would probably take you
back when they found out..."
"Found out what?" Dennis demanded, "And who is Dr. Melville?"

Charlie was trembling and sobbing so hard he could hardly speak. "He...
he's a psy... uhh... a shrink, Dad. He came in this morning to see me. He
asked me all sorts of questions about how I felt about my operation, and
when I told him I was ok with it he said that was stupid, that I couldn't
possibly be ok with it. He said Dr. Fisher had said something about how
Garth used to kick me and punch me there so he wanted to hear about that.
Then he asked how often you and Mom beat me. He asked how long you
had been MAKING me work on the farm, and how long Mom had been
MAKING me sing. He turned everything all around, Dad! Then when he
found out that Andy's adoption isn't final he said he was gonna do what he
could to get it stopped, 'cause he didn't want another abused child in the
hospital. Geeez, Dad, I've messed up so bad!"

"You haven't messed up." Dennis assured him, "I know you told the truth,
and we have nothing to fear from the truth. But who authorized that guy to
come in here anyway?"
"I dunno Dad. He just said it was standard procedure in cases like this."
"Well, we'll see about that!" Dennis snarled as he pushed the call button.
When the friendly voice of a nurse came over the intercom, Dennis said in
an even, but obviously upset voice, "We need to see Dr. Melville now!"
"I'm afraid he's gone." said the voice back to him.
"Get him back here! If he doesn't see us this morning, he'll be seeing our
attorney this afternoon. Ask him if he's ever heard of Evan Turnbull."

The good doctor magically appeared just as Charlie was finished getting
dressed. After introductions were hastily done, Dennis got right to the
point. "May I ask what you were doing interviewing my son, without my
knowledge?"
"It's standard procedure, Mr. Conner. The boy has had a very traumatic
experience and we..."
"If you're talking about Charlie, 'THE BOY' has a name! Why is it you so-
called professionals can't remember people's names? We spoke to him by
phone only this morning and he was fine. Then when we arrived we found
him devastated. What have you done?"

"All I've done," the doctor answered defiantly, "Is to help him deal with a
lot of feelings and bring them out into the open where we can help him
with them."
"You twisted everything I said!" Charlie interjected. Dr. Melville ignored
him.
"I want to see your notes." Dennis said.
"I expect you do. If I had as much to hide as you appear to, I wouldn't
want my children talking to professionals either. I'm still trying to decide if
I have enough information to go to Social Services, but it seems to me the
sooner I get those boys away from you, the better."

"Karen, call Evan." Dennis said as he grasped Charlie's bed with both
hands, the only way he could keep from using those hands to do something
really stupid.
"That's not a very good idea." Dr. Melville stated, "It seems almost like a
challenge."
"It's not a challenge, Dr. Melville, it's merely a poor ignorant farmer doing
what he can to defend himself and his loved ones against the system."
"He's on the line." Karen said.
"Ask him if he can get his tail over here right away. Tell him we've got an
over jealous shrink here who's trying to break up our family. Tell him not
to worry about his fee, that I'll pay it somehow."

Evan didn't come to the hospital - he didn't have to. He spoke to Dr.
Melville, and Dr. Fisher who had shown up to discharge Charlie. He told
them that he would, if necessary, get a court order to see any and all
records and reports related to Charlie. Their alternative, he said, was for
them to turn over the reports voluntarily. They backed off, agreeing to at
least talk the whole thing over without doing anything drastic. Evan also
informed them that if Charlie were consulted again by any kind of a shrink
without his parents' permission, they would find themselves in a law suit.

"Man, Dad!" Charlie exclaimed when they were finally in the car, "You
were so awesome! I think Dr. Melville was afraid you were gonna deck
him."
"I came really close, son." Dennis answered, "But that would've got us all
in a lot of trouble."
"Just the same, I hope I get so I can handle people like that some day."
"You will," Andy put in, "Ya don't do all that bad now!"
"We have to be a little careful," Dennis reminded them, "Remember Charlie
has a year's worth of visits to that hospital, and we don't want them hating
us."
"John wouldn't do that." Charlie said, "He's really cool."
"John? John who?"
"John Petrie. Doctor John Petrie. He's a resident and he's gonna be my
doctor during the treatments. He's really nice, Dad."

                  *      *      *

"Doctor Fisher, may I see you for a moment, in your office?" It was John
Petrie. He had just come on duty and had been going over the details of
Charlie's charts. Like all residents, he often didn't get the time to peruse
charts when he should, so he was seeing some of the detail lab reports for
the first time.
"You look really serious, Dr. Petrie." Fisher said to him, "What is it?"
"I've just been looking over the Conner boy's charts. I think there's
something you should see."
"Pretty straightforward case. He's a little young, but hopefully we caught it
in time."
"Look right here, on this lab report."

Dr. Fisher glanced at the report being held before him, then took a closer
look. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed, "This can't be right!"
"It's right, doctor. I've double checked."
"Have you told him, or his family?"
"No, he was discharged this morning. He'll be back Monday to start his
chemo."
"Oh yeah, that's right. Well, don't say anything to them just yet. I'll have
to figure out how to tell them. I'll handle it, ok?"
"Fine with me, doctor. That's not the sort of thing I'm very good at
anyway."
"Well my young resident, you'd better get good at it, because shit
happens."

Dr. Fisher sat in his office, thinking about what he'd just seen in Charlie's
lab reports. "Damn!" he exclaimed aloud, "Why me? Why do I have to be
the kid's doctor? Of all times, this had to happen to a kid! How am I ever
gonna tell them?" He picked up the phone and asked for the administrator,
then said never mind and put the phone down again.

                  *      *      *

Charlie had what he would have called an awesome weekend. Saturday he
just puttered around the farm, all his responsibilities having been given to
someone else. The gospel band dropped by just after noon to check on him
and ask if he was up for the concert. "Of course I am!" he exclaimed, "Why
wouldn't I be?" He was having no pain at all, and wasn't wearing diapers,
nor was he having accidents! In his mind, it was already worth what he'd
been through.

Saturday night, sharply at 8, the curtain rose to a very turned-on band and
quartet. The very first number Wade, the bass, would start with a solo,
picked up in the second verse by Charlie. He had never sung more sweetly,
never with more volume or authority! He topped the high's with
confidence, descended to the low's with a depth he had never before felt.
Number after number he thrilled the audience, his fellow musicians, even
himself. Oddly enough he had never noticed before, but he had at least a
small solo part in just about every number they sang. And each moved all
who heard.

They were to sing a new arrangement of the old favorite, "Rock of Ages."
They sang the first verse as a quartet, in harmony. Wade took the second
verse, his low, tranquil voice thrilling Charlie as usual. Charlie admired
Wade's voice, its low bass texture, its richness, the ease with which it
descended to notes so low they were almost like a growl. Now it seemed
even more enthralling to him because he knew his voice would never be
like it. As Wade sang, Charlie watched him intently, the admiration on his
face plain for all to see. Then it was the third verse, Charlie's solo.

Karen sat at the piano, absolutely dreading the third verse that Charlie
would be singing only seconds from now. When he heard the words he was
singing, he'd be devastated! Why had she been so thorough in her
teaching? Why had she insisted that he think of the words as he sang?
Anyone can get up and make a noise, she'd said. Anyone can mouth words,
or they can be formed by computer, she'd said. But, she'd told him over
and over, the human voice, together with facial expression, body English of
someone who understands the words he's singing, believes them and wants
to communicate, now THAT's singing! She had drilled him since he was
six years old. Feel the song, she'd said. Get into it! Don't ever sing a note
unless you are singing from your heart! And now those same words were
about to destroy him! Wade was singing his final notes, and Charlie had
turned to face the audience. Karen played a few notes of introduction, and
Charlie began to sing.

Charlie loved this number!  They had never performed it before, but for the
past month Charlie had insisted that they sing it at least once during every
practice. He liked the arrangement; he loved his solo part, and even more,
Wade's before his. Now he was performing it before an audience; a very
large audience!

          While I draw this fleeting breath...
          When my eyes shall close in death...

Karen saw the look of shock on Charlie's face. He'd done exactly as she'd
trained him to do: think of the words! She tried frantically to think of some
way musically to add some extra piano interlude, because she knew he
would pause now, if indeed he could sing at all.

"When my eyes shall close in death" The words hit Charlie full in the chest
like a locomotive! His inner voice whispered to him "You're gonna die,
Charlie! You're dying right now, while you're singing! You're a goner,
Charlie! You thought you'd never experience a change in your voice.
Shoot, you're never gonna experience anything! You're dead meat!"

He had in a split second realized what he was singing. It jolted him to his
toes; but then he heard another voice. This was Charlie too, but a different
Charlie. His mind was whizzing, and it seemed to him almost like a cartoon
with good and evil consciousnesses fighting for control. Charlie II said
"Yes, Charlie, you're gonna die. Everyone has to die. You may very well
die soon. But isn't that all the more reason to accomplish why you're here
in the time you have left? You have a gift, Charlie! Use it while you can!
Don't waste it! And what's so bad about death anyway? Do you believe all
you've been taught, or don't you? Do you believe all that stuff about no
more pain, no more sickness? If you believe it, SHOW IT! Show that
you're not afraid to die! Make a difference, Charlie! You know that
everyone watching you right now knows you have cancer. SHOW THEM
THAT IT'LL TAKE A LOT MORE THAN CANCER TO CONQUER
CHARLIE CONNER!"

All of this happened in the fraction of a second between the word
"DEATH" and the next line to the song. But it was enough; Charlie knew
what he had to do. Karen had taught him that too! That he should
communicate his faith, his comfort level. So he sang on:

          When I rise to worlds unknown....

"You know what that means," Charlie I said, "After you die you will be in
the great unknown! Will it be dark? Cold? Hot? Will there be anyone there
you know? What will you look like? Will you remember your life here on
earth? Will your folks remember you? Or will you just be lost in a giant sea
of nothingness? Or maybe everything just ends."

Charlie II countered: "WOW! You know what that means? You know
where that line is talking about, don't you? We have all sorts of imagined
pictures of Heaven, but they are just that: our imagination. But when you
cross over, you're gonna SEE it! AWESOME!"

Charlie's eyes brightened, his voice became a little clearer, a little brighter.
As he sang about rising to worlds unknown, his voice rose to heights
unknown. Everyone in the audience heard it. No one could describe it nor
identify what had happened, but everyone felt it.

          And behold thee on thy throne...

No comment from Charlie I. Charlie II just said "AWESOME!"

          Rock of ages, cleft for me...
          Let me hide myself in thee...

Andy sat in the audience, next to his father as usual; but this was different
from anything he had ever experienced here or anywhere else in his life! He
couldn't identify it, didn't even know what was different. But he watched
in total awe as he watched his little brother on the stage go through a short
period of turmoil, followed by a peace so intense that Andy could feel it. At
that moment he knew, absolutely knew, that he and Charlie would be
together always. They might not be in the same house, the same town, the
same country! One of them might die and the other live; one might marry
and move away! But regardless of their future, Andy knew that their souls
would never be parted just as surely as he knew they never had been parted
since they'd first met. Unconsciously his hand reached for his father's, and
when they touched, there was a peace, a calmness pass between them that
simply could not be described; but it was unmistakably real.

Charlie's solo was over... well officially. The next verse was the whole
quartet repeating the chorus in harmony; but that high soprano voice,
singing tenor two octaves above the others, dominated. Ordinarily
domination by one voice is not a good thing; but in this case the glow on
the face of its owner, the expression of inner peace that could be heard in
every note, inspired the others. Karen saw it, and so did Andy, and so did
Dennis. They all knew that Charlie, in that brief moment between lines of
his solo, had faced death, had dealt with it, understood it, and was ready.
Everyone in that theater knew that no matter if Charlie's future was life or
death, there would be no contest; Charlie had already triumphed!

They had been working on a new technique where each member of the
quartet sang a part of each selection. Charlie and Wade, the bass, often
sang together, two and sometimes three octaves apart. It had been working
well, but nothing like tonight. It seemed they could do nothing wrong, and
as the concert progressed they just got better and better. Charlie and Wade
had over the past few months become closer, each admiring the other's
talents and range. Charlie couldn't even come close to reaching to the
depths that Wade could, nor could Wade come near Charlie's high's. But
each knew that together there were few if any written notes that they
couldn't hit. On two different occasions Wade totally lost any thought of
stage protocol and grabbed Charlie and hugged him. Andy's initial reaction
was jealousy; but then he realized that he couldn't possibly keep Charlie all
to himself, he had to be shared!

After the final curtain went down, after seven encores, a tearful Charlie
flew into Karen's waiting arms. "That was so awesome!" he said, "We
were good, weren't we?"
"YOU were awesome!" she whispered to her son, "I've never heard you
sing better! I've never SEEN you sing better!" She was fighting hard to
keep the tears at bay, and somehow she managed. She wondered what was
in store for him. But right now it didn't matter. Most important, she knew
that whatever he faced in the future, he was prepared.

When Andy appeared backstage, he and Charlie stood and looked at each
other. Then without warning they both dissolved in tears as they embraced.
There were no words between them; there was no need. They both knew
that Charlie had exceeded every expectation, every dream of his fellow
singers, the instrumentalists, his mother, even himself! But even more
important, he had communicated to his brother that it was ok. No
matter what, it was ok! "Charlie," Andy finally whispered when he could
find his voice, "I dunno what to say! That was just so... so..." He didn't
finish. There were simply no words to express what he was feeling. So he
settled for the hugs, the tears, the absolute love that passed between them.

Sunday was no less incredible. The morning church service was much as
one expects, except that Charlie was at the organ instead of his mother
while she accompanied a guest soloist at the piano.

Andy thought as Charlie took his position at the console, "He's so tiny!
That console looks as if it's eaten him alive!" But when the organ started
to play, it was soon obvious who had eaten whom! Each hymn, each
introduction, each stage of the service was Charlie's conquest, his triumph.
Each verse of every hymn was modulated to a higher chord. It was if his
fingers were not his own as he commanded that instrument to do his every
bidding. And if the quality of the music were not sufficient, there was the
look on his face! There was a glow, an aura, that defied description, could
not be explained.

Andy didn't hear much of what was spoken at that church service. His
mind was far beyond information overload as he reviewed the past week,
the concert, Charlie's obvious transformation. He was no stranger to the
concept of faith, but he'd never seen it first-hand the way he'd seen it this
week. "And a little child shall lead them..." he thought over and over. He
believed that passage now because he'd seen it for himself. His little buddy,
his new brother Charlie was so incredibly at peace! Tomorrow he would
submit himself to injections that he knew would make him deathly sick, but
still there was a constant smile on his face. He was concerned more for
Andy's comfort, his eternal well-being than he was for what he was facing.
Andy was not a slow learner; he learned and acted. He set about to gain the
sort of faith he'd seen at work.


                *       *       *

If you wish to comment on this story, please send your comments to me at
charlieje@mindspring.com