Date: Thu, 30 Nov 2000 19:28:29 -0500
From: Charlie <charlieje@nc.rr.com>
Subject: Andy-Revised 19

My Dear Readers:

Beginning with chapter nineteen, I am posting a revised Andy story. Some of
you will have read the new version, as I posted it on facilities other than Nifty
last spring. This posting did not work out as well as I had hoped, so David,
our Nifty archivist, has agreed to place the updated version on here. I am
constantly amazed and gratified at the tireless efforts David puts into this
facility; we all, authors and readers alike, owe him a big debt of thanks!

My reason for publishing this new version is simple: I would like to begin a
sequel, and I think the newer version lends itself more to a sequel than did the
original.

The next few paragraphs, then, will provide a brief summary that will take us
up to chapter 19. Before this point I made very minor changes such as
improvements in grammar and spelling, added some detail here, took some
away there.  The major change will begin in chapter 21, where I introduce a
new character; a character who will be very significant both in the remainder
of the Andy series, and in the sequel. Chapters nineteen and twenty have been
changed only where necessary to set the stage for this new character. If you
are not interested in the details of this introduction, the first really major
change begins in chapter 24. After that, the story is completely different.

I have finished proofreading the revised version up to and including chapter
23. I had hoped that this would be enough, but we never know what can
happen to change our plans, do we?

Today I attended a funeral. Big deal, you say. Well, yes, it WAS a big deal. A
VERY big deal in my books. The funeral was for an 82 year old woman, the
mother of a dear friend of mine. She passed away quite unexpectedly early
last Monday morning, and Bill, her son, came knocking on my door Monday
afternoon, asing me to be a paul bearer. Of course I said yes.

So what, you say. Well, so this! This lady lived her entire life on a farm in the
middle of tobacco country in North Carolina. That's where Bill, my friend,
grew up. I met him when I came here to live ten years ago, and we became
instant friends. He knows that I am Canadian, retired IBM, and... and he
knows I am gay! He calls himself a North Carolina redneck, but still, knowing
what he knows, he wanted me to be a paul bearer at his mother's funeral!
There were eight of us... the other seven all born and bred and live in Johnson
County, North Carolina. Plus one.

I didn't know Bill's mom all that well. She has been in a rest home for the
past three years, and comes to visit him twice a year: Thanksgiving and
Christmas. We got to know her by having Bill and her in to eat during her
visits the past three years. So why am I sharing all this information? I guess I
was just incredibly moved that, coming from his background, my friend Bill
thought it important that his friend Charlie be a part of a very large part of his
life: his mother. I guess I just wanted to say, once more, we sometimes find
love when and where we least expect it.

And now, as they say in the media, back to our regularly scheduled program.

You will no doubt recall that the story opened with fifteen year old Andy
arriving on the Conner farm for the summer. Charlie, eleven year old son of
Dennis and Karen Conner, was the one who basically ran the farm, and very
capably. Charlie was also a very good singer, and performed regularly with
his mother in a gospel band and singing group. Then things began to go
wrong. Charlie was mis-diagnosed with testicular cancer, resulting in his
castration. This brought new opportunities into his life, but not necessarily
ones that he found attractive. It also brought new challenges to the entire
family, including Andy. It is at this point that we rejoin the story.

Andy has just discovered that Charlie did not really have to go through his
ordeal in the hospital, indeed did not have to be castrated! But their Italian
friend, who has had a great interest in Charlie's singing abilities, has arranged
for Charlie to go to Italy where he can develop his now very unique voice.
But Charlie has other ideas.

Here, then, is the REVISED Andy Chapter Nineteen. I hope you enjoy it.



                  XIX Carlo's Proposition

"WOW!" Charlie exclaimed in his best little boy exuberance as they were
ushered into the posh entrance of the Meoli mansion. His wide eyes were
scanning the polished marble floor, the wood paneled walls, the gigantic
chandeliers. "Mom, Look at this place! It's like a palace!"
"Yes, dear," Karen replied, "It's very nice. But aren't you forgetting your
manners just a little?"
"Yeah I guess so. But I never seen such a place! This is too cool!"
"I'm glad you like it." Carlo said as he appeared, "Welcome to my home!"

Everyone shook hands with everyone else, then they all adjourned to a sitting
room where Carlo introduced his friend as they were served drinks. "I'd like
to present a good friend of mine from Italy," he said, "Guido Pezzoni. Guido,
These are the Conner's: Karen, Dennis, Andy, and... Charlie."

When it came Charlie's turn to shake hands, he stood staring as if in a trance.
"Charlie!" Karen nudged him.
"P-Pleased to meet you, sir." Charlie stammered as he took the hand that was
offered. "You... your name is Guido?"
"Yes. Is that a problem?"
"Oh... uh... no sir. It's just... oh nothing. I just was thinking of a book I read
that had a character in it named Guido."
"Was the book title by any chance 'Cry To Heaven'?" Guido asked.

If anyone had thought that Charlie's eyes were big before, they should have
seen them now! His mouth had dropped open and remained wide enough to
allow a middle sized van to enter. "Yes... uhhh... yes sir," he stammered. "It
was. You know the book?"
"Very well. I was consulted by the author, and I have read it several times. I
presume you've read it?"
"Yes sir. I loved it. Ann Rice is a very good writer, and that story was so...
well... different."

Karen and Dennis had been left completely in the dark by this latest
exchange. But they were used to this sort of thing with Charlie. He was
always reading something, and when he found someone, adult, teen or child,
who shared a particular interest or literary work, he became oblivious to all
around him. Andy knew the book of course, had read it while sitting with
Charlie in the hospital. Now more than ever he was suspicious of Carlo. What
the heck was going on? Who was this guy named Guido? Why had he been
consulted in the writing of that book? Could it be possible... was Guido a... a
eunuch?"

Dinner was, to say the least, tense. The dining room was very large and
elegant; the huge table could easily have seated thirty people. There was more
silverware on the table than any of the Conners had ever seen in one place
before, and they were constantly exchanging questioning looks, wondering
what fork or spoon to use for a particular function. Dennis had attended many
dinners that he'd thought formal, but nothing like this! But the food made up
for it all. The dinner, five courses of it, was absolutely exquisite! Never had
any of the Conner clan ever treated their palettes to such delicate flavors; and
so much of it! When they had finally finished their dessert, about two hours
later, Carlo suggested that they return to the sitting room where he would
present his proposition over coffee and brandy.

                      *       *       *

"I must confess," Carlo said after they were all seated, "I have not been
completely honest with you."

I thought so! Andy thought to himself, So let's hear it, you SOB! What're you
up to?

"It's no coincidence," Carlo went on, "That my friend Guido is here from
Italy. He has two qualifications that make him of particular interest to us all,
and in particular to my little songbird Charlie. Guido is an accomplished
musician and voice teacher. But he is also a devoted historian, specializing in
eighteenth century Italy. He has spent most of his life studying the practice of
castrating young boys, then using their high voices in churches, operas,
anywhere such talent would be useful."

Dennis was aghast. "You mean to tell me," he said in a somewhat accusing
tone, "You are reviving the practice? That you castrate young boys just to
preserve their voices?"
"Good heavens no!" Guido replied, "I find the very idea repulsive! I could
never do such a thing! But there are many boys in the world who, like your
son, find themselves in that situation through no fault of their own or anyone
else. I seek merely to give them something; something unique. Most of them
have lost far more than those tiny organs. They've lost their self respect, their
identity as a male, in some cases their very will to live! And in some countries
they also lose their homes. But almost without exception they have something
beautiful, and I try to capitalize on that something to give them back their
lives."

"From the look in your eyes," Carlo said to Andy, "I sense that whatever trust
you had for me is gone again. I really do hope some day you will learn that
you can trust me, but the fact I have to prove myself first is to your credit.
You have always shown yourself to be extremely protective of Charlie and I
like that! So by all means ask as many questions as you like."
"Thank you sir." Andy answered, somewhat taken aback that Carlo had read
his mind so clearly. "I plan to. I think I know where this conversation is
going."

"Before we go on," Guido said apprehensively, "Charlie, would you be so
kind as to favor us with a sample of your singing? I know you haven't been
well, so if you'd rather not..."
"Is this an audition?" Andy asked. He knew that Charlie wouldn't have asked
it because Charlie seldom if ever passed up a chance to sing.
"Partly." Guido answered. "Carlo has described Charlie's singing in such
glowing terms I have little doubt that he'll pass any audition requirements, but
I simply want to hear him sing."
"No problem," Charlie said eagerly, "I haven't tried singing for a while, but
it's time I got back into it. Can my mom play for me or would you rather I
play for myself?"
"You play also?"
"He plays like nobody you ever heard," Andy said proudly.
"I must hear that some time too. But for now why don't you play for him,
Karen?"

Karen seated herself at the huge grand piano and plinked a few chords to get
used to the instrument. As she might have expected, it was in perfect tune.
Charlie rose and sang two of his favorite gospel numbers; not exactly what
Guido had in mind, but they did demonstrate his range, clarity and control. At
Carlo's suggestion he then sang the song he'd sung at Carlo's daughter's
wedding: a very intense Catholic selection based on the work of Mozart. He
topped the high's with characteristic ease, his volume rising and falling as the
piece progressed. He showed perfect control of his vibrato, smoothing or
intensifying as the musical expression demanded.

"That was magnificent!" Guido said when Charlie finished, "Would you be so
kind as to sing one more?"
"Sure!" Charlie said, his confidence restored. He'd been afraid he might be a
little rusty, but now he knew he was in good voice.
"I shall accompany if you don't mind." Guido said to Karen as he handed
Charlie a musical score. Charlie had been expecting something really difficult,
like some operatic passage; when he looked at the score he was astonished to
see an old Irish tune: O Danny Boy.
"An easy enough piece," Guido agreed when he saw the astonishment on the
boy's face. "But it gives one a chance to demonstrate control and range better
than most. Anyone can sing it, but sung right it's truly beautiful."

Charlie began. Guido's playing was nothing short of inspiring! His hands flew
all over the keys, adding trills and walking bass to this simple melody. Charlie
found himself caught up in the music, concentrated on the words as Karen
had taught him, and his voice did the rest. On the long notes he held his voice
steady for a moment, then allowed the vibrato to slowly intensify. He
descended to the low's, which were really not that low. When he came to the
high note, he did it with such ease he wanted to hold it longer than its printed
value, but of course that wouldn't be right, would it? So he stuck to the score,
which was Guido's own arrangement and slightly different than any other:
just different enough that a trained ear would detect immediately any
deviation from what was written.

"That was truly beautiful!" Guido remarked as everyone applauded. He rose
from the piano and shook Charlie's hand vigorously as he said to Carlo, "You
did not exaggerate, my friend!" And then to Charlie, "Where on earth did you
learn to sing like that?"
"My mom taught me," he answered proudly.
"And you play? The piano I presume?"
"Yes sir. And the organ."
"My compliments to you, Mrs. Conner. You have given the boy a wonderful
start!"

"Now to my proposition." Carlo said when everyone was seated again, fresh
coffee in their cups. "I want to offer Charlie the chance to study under Guido.
This is not a free ride I'm offering because it will be very hard work and lots
of sacrifices for the entire family. But from what I know of the Conner family
that's nothing new.

"You will have to drop out of public school, Charlie, and become a home-
schooler. Your regular studies would be done partly at home and partly here.
Andy and my chauffeur could share the burden of driving you until you get
your own license, which would mean more than likely he would also become
home schooled. Guido or one of his assistants would work with you on your
music at least three days a week. He has over thirty boys in training in
Europe, and you would be the third here in North America.

"You would spend three to four months in residence in Italy each year, spread
over six or so visits. There you would live and sing with other boys, and do
various performances. By the time you finish at approximately 18 years of
age, you will be very skilled in every aspect of singing. Unlike the eighteenth
century castrati, your repertoire will not be limited to classical and liturgical
music. You will be at home with any style, including the gospel music you
love so much. Your range will be much wider, in many ways overcoming
your soprano voice that will never change on its own. With training, you will
be able to sing almost as low as most baritones, and of course those glorious
high's that belong only to young boys and castrati.

"If you all will follow me, I'll show you the room I've prepared for Charlie
here in the house. He would go home most nights of course, but there will be
many times when that simply isn't practical. And while you're in my house,
Charlie, you will have all the benefits, all the privileges of my son."

The entire troupe followed Carlo up the stairs and down the hallway to a
large bedroom. "My heavens!" Dennis exclaimed, "It's half as large as our
whole house! You'd get lost in here, Charlie, and we'd never find you!"

Charlie didn't answer. He was too totally awe struck by the grandeur, the fine
furnishings, spaciousness; the walls lined with bookshelves, the keyboard, the
computer. His mind was in overload as he looked around, darting from this
feature to that. "WOW!" he exclaimed as he spied something new; then
before he'd taken it all in he said again "WOW! Mom, come look at this!" or
"Andy, did you see..."

Back downstairs, Dennis said "You've made us a very kind offer, Carlo. But
we can't possibly accept it. It'll cost you a fortune!"
"But I have the money and I'm willing to spend it."
"What's in it for you?" Andy asked. "Why would you do all this?"
"Simply because I love beauty, Andy. I have a passion for good singing and
the work Guido is doing, and I think Charlie has without question one of the
best voices I have ever heard. And I've heard some of Guido's other
students."

"But we still cannot ask you to spend so much money on our son." Karen
protested, "especially when there's no guarantee you'd ever get any of it
back. That just wouldn't be right."
"Karen, do your think your son isn't worth it?"
"Our son is priceless to us!" she answered. "They both are. But we're just
country folks, Carlo. All this luxury..."

Carlo took another tack. "All right Karen, let me put it to you this way. All
that you see around you: the house, the garden, the cars; the money in my
bank account; my investments; my land holdings. How much of them would it
take to buy one of your sons? Not both, just one. Either one. You could still
see him whenever you wanted, but he would be mine. We could go through
the legal adoption process. How much, Karen?"
"I think you know the answer to that one. In fact I'm offended that you would
even ask!"
"I apologize. I certainly didn't mean to offend, but I wanted to illustrate. If
your sons are worth so much to you that no amount of money can buy them,
then certainly they must be worth what I am proposing."
"You're asking for more of a sacrifice from all of us than I think we can give.
And frankly I'm not sure if the benefit justifies the cost."

"If I understand this," Dennis observed, Charlie would be going to school
both here and at home?"
"That's right. He would do his music training here, and most of his other
schooling would be at home. I have made some inquiries and there is no
shortage of good teachers who'd be willing to participate. Of course there
would be no cost to you."
"But who would do my chores?" Charlie asked.

"Chores?" Carlo questioned, "There would be no chores, Charlie! You are far
above doing chores! But that is a glib answer and one I'm sure you would not
understand. The fact is I have been in contact with a young man from Texas,
about to graduate from Texas A&M. His grades are excellent, he is a very
personable young man, and after having heard the story of the Conner family
is more than anxious to take over the operation of your farm. He is young and
eager; he knows agriculture, and he understands how desperately he is
needed here. He will do your chores, Charlie, or determine who should do
them."

"You're gonna hire someone..." Charlie asked incredulously, "and you expect
someone from Texas, to understand what's needed on a farm in North
Carolina? Someone just out of college?"
"Charlie," Dennis reminded him, "you didn't think the neighbors could do our
spring planting either, but they did. And this young man might just be what
we need to put our farm back on its feet."
"So you're sayin'," Charlie concluded, "I'm not doin' a good job of
managing the farm?"
"No, Charlie! You've done an incredible job! But there are things you don't
know. I don't know! That's why people go to college to learn how to farm.
There are better ways, Charlie! What you know is what I've taught you, and
what you've learned on your own. But there are ways and methods we
haven't even dreamed of to make a farm work. And a recent A&M
graduate..."
"I dunno..." Charlie observed. "On the other hand, I keep hearing that with all
the money I'm gonna get from that hospital, maybe we should spend some of
it to fix up the old farm. But it's still the Conner farm, right Dad? The final
decisions are still up to the Conner's, right? You and me and Andy, right?"

The questions went back and forth well into the night. Andy was promised a
new car for carrying Charlie back and forth; Charlie was promised a
wardrobe fit for a king. Dennis was assured that Charlie would get the best
medical care money could buy. The whole family would be flown to Europe
to attend some of the concerts Charlie would be performing. Charlie himself
had grown silent again. His eyes were dazed and glassy. His head was
swimming in a sea of fantasy. Was this not every kid's dream? In his mind he
pictured himself being treated like royalty; his every whim, every desire met
instantly. And the product! He could truly sing, as well as anyone! And
probably play too! The bantering continued, but Charlie was oblivious to it.
He was aware that it was going on, but he wasn't hearing any more. But no
matter, the same ground was being covered over and over.

Karen wondered about the possibility that Charlie's bedwetting might return.
Guido and Carlo assured her that if it happened, it would be dealt with
appropriately and promptly. Dennis wondered about Charlie's need for
exercise. He was told that ample gym and exercise equipment would be
provided. While in Italy he would be a member of all the athletic teams of the
school. There were objections and answers, questions and responses; there
were concerns and reassurances. But somewhere in the negotiations two
people in the room seemed to Charlie to have been totally forgotten.

When he could stand it no longer, he stood up and faced his parents. "Mom,
Dad..." he said. The heated discussion didn't change either in intensity nor
speed. "Can I say something?" he repeated. His father looked at him briefly,
then back to Guido who was making another point. He sat down again, and as
he did he noticed that Andy's eyes were boring into him. What was that look
on his face? Searching? Beseeching? Fear perhaps? Well, he thought, at least
Andy was aware he was still in the room.

Andy sat listening to all the adults as they discussed Charlie's future. He tried
to be philosophical about it, reminding himself that losing Charlie to a life of
music training would not be like losing him to death. It would be worse! But
he knew how attractive the idea would be to Charlie because everything
musical was attractive to Charlie. Andy could not deny that he had the voice,
the talent worthy, almost demanding, of any and all training that could be
provided. But what would be the result? Would he be better off or worse?
Would he become so rich and famous that he simply wouldn't have time for
his family? For Andy? Would the intelligent, smiling, down-to-earth Charlie
be lost to them forever? And then Andy felt guilty for worrying about these
things. It was selfish! He should be delighted that his little brother was getting
such an opportunity. Shouldn't he?

Finally in frustration Charlie motioned with his head for Andy to follow him.
He sat down on the piano bench, and Andy sat beside him. He started to play,
softly at first, and then louder. He began to sing. Andy recognized the song
immediately; it had become one of Charlie's favorites, and one that seemed to
have particular meaning tonight. Andy had only heard it before as performed
by Bill Anderson on Charlie's CD. It was naturally accompanied by a full
band, but Charlie's rendition on the piano was equally brilliant. He had
somehow managed to duplicate every instrument, every musical interlude,
every expression. Andy had never heard him play so well. And those words!

     I looked over my guitar, and there stood an old man
     His cowboy clothes were frayed and worn, his boots far from new
     He said, I'd like to sit in with your band
     Cause I'm a country singer too.

     He reached down and took my guitar
     With a determined look on his face
     Then as he started to play and sing,
     A look of sadness took its place.

Charlie changed his voice to imitate the old man. It was still the soprano of a
young boy, but sounded astonishingly old somehow:

     I've sung my songs from Maine to California
     Saw the world from the window of a car
     I never saved a dime back when I made it
     I always thought someday I'd be a star.

     But now my voice is cracked, and no one wants me
     My wife gave up on me, years ago
     It's been so long my kids don't even know me
     And pick and sing is the only life I know.

Some sort of communication went between Charlie and Andy. "Then we
could sing duets." rang in Andy's ears, the words Charlie had spoken to him
in the hospital. They didn't say anything, there were no hand signals that
anyone could detect. But suddenly Andy joined in the chorus, his beautiful
mellow teen baritone voice singing the melody perfectly while Charlie
harmonized the tenor part. Everyone stopped talking and watched as they
sang, with Charlie's fingers flying over the piano. Karen thought she'd never
heard him play better or with more feeling:

     I wonder if God likes country music
     Will there be a place up there to sing my songs
     Will he make my fingers nimble like they used to be
     So I can play the chords and sing along.

They sang the chorus again.

When they were finished everyone applauded. Andy looked at Charlie with
an astonished expression as if to say "Was that me singing?"

"That was beautiful, boys!" Guido said, "Not my kind of music, but beautiful
none the less. But I sense that you were not just trying to entertain us. You
were trying to tell us something, weren't you?"
"Does anyone care?" Charlie asked without even thinking about it.
"Charlie!" Karen scolded, "What kind of thing is that to say? We're trying to
work something out here that'll work for you. And I'll bet you haven't even
been listening."
"As a matter of fact," he answered bitterly, "I haven't. Not for the last hour
or so."
"How in the world can you participate in this decision if you don't even know
what's being said? We are talking about your life here."

"Really!" Charlie spat back at her. He glanced at Andy... Now the look on his
face was unmistakable. It was sheer terror! Charlie never, absolutely never
talked back to his parents! Andy thought about what Garth had said: "Living
with Daddy Dennis is fine long as everything goes his way, but wait'll ya
cross him!" Was he about to see another side to Dennis? But Charlie wasn't
anywhere near finished yet. "I thought you were doing very well, discussing
my future without me."

"Charlie," Karen said with surprise, "I've never heard you speak like that
before. What's come over you?"
"Nothing much, Mom. Maybe I just got a pretty good education already
tonight. Maybe I learned just how important I really am! Or am not."
"Charlie," Dennis ordered, "Do NOT talk to your mother like that!"
"I'm not talking just to Mom, Dad. I'm talkin' to both of you! I can't believe
what's just gone on here! You've all been talkin' about me like I was a new
tractor, or an extra fat steer or something! I tried to say something half an
hour ago and y'all didn't even know I was here! I can't believe you, Mom
and Dad! I always thought y'all really cared about me and what I thought. But
let someone come along with a bagfull of money, lots of big ideas for making
your kids famous, and you forget I'm even on the planet! The only way I
could get your attention was to start singing. Is that all I am now? A singer? Is
that all I mean to you any more? I can't make babies, but I can still sing, so
that's what I'm supposed to do, right? I got to learn to sing the best I can
cause that's all I'm good for any more."

Karen looked at Charlie, then at Dennis. He looked back at her, then at
Charlie, then at Andy. "I heard you, son." he said, "but we were in the middle
of trying to work something out that would be best for you."
"You mean work something out that'd be best for YOU! You don't give a
flip about me, only all that training!"
"Charlie!" Karen said again, "how can you possibly say that?" Andy was
wishing he was on another planet somewhere. He had never heard Charlie
speak to his parents like this, nor had he ever seen Charlie so angry. But he
could not deny Charlie had a point. Charlie's entire body was trembling with
rage. "OK," Charlie said, "if I'm wrong, I apologize. But would y'all please
let me know when you're done, then I have some things to say."

"I for one would love to hear what you have to say, Charlie," Carlo
answered.
"Me too!" Andy broke in, and then wondered why the hell he'd said it. He
was still the new kid on the block, if only in his own mind.
"We're all ears!" Dennis said somewhat irritated. "We can't seem to make
this work for everyone, let's hear what you have to say."

"I sat here listening," Charlie began, "while y'all talked and talked about how
we're gonna solve this problem. I got the distinct impression that the problem
is ME!"
"Charlie," Karen broke in, "That's ridiculous and you know it! We're only..."
"Mom, I'm sorry but I'm speaking now. Maybe when I'm done you won't
have so much to talk about. But if you don't let me speak, maybe I should
just go back to Italy with Mr. Pezzoni and stay there!"
"Charlie!" Karen and Dennis exclaimed.
"I'm sorry," Charlie said as his tears began in a flood, "but if I'm such a
problem here, and Mr. Pezzoni wants me, maybe I'd be better off just going
back to Italy with him and joining his castrati choir. That way I'd be outta
your hair. You wouldn't have to worry about me any more."
"OK Charlie," Carlo said. "Go ahead. We want to hear what you have to
say."

"Thanks, Mr. Meoli. I don't want to offend anyone, but to tell you the truth
I'm sick of being Charlie the super kid! I'm sick of always being expected to
do everything, to be excellent at everything I do! And then along comes
someone and cuts off a tiny part of my body, and suddenly it's 'what're we
gonna do with Charlie? How are we gonna give Charlie back his life? How
can we make the most of his voice, now that it's never gonna change?' Well
for your information I didn't even know I'd lost my life! I still have a great
brother and super parents, or at least I thought I did. Is it that you don't want
me as a son any more 'cause I'm a eunuch?"
"Of course not, Charlie!" Karen answered.
"Are you sure, Mom? Are you sure you can live with the way I am? Cause I
can. In fact I kinda like the idea. It's brought out a whole lot in people I
didn't know was there.

"When I first started singing in that gospel group I thought it was the most
wonderful thing that could ever happen to me. It was so much fun singing,
making people happy, and listening to the cheers, the lights, the music! Then I
got sick, and the whole group fell apart. That's when I realized that they
didn't want me for ME, they only wanted my voice! When my voice
disappeared, there was no more need for me! That's show business! It's not
me, I'm just a farm kid and I'm happy with that. Guess I didn't even realize
that myself till all this happened.

"Did you listen to the words to that song I just sang? You taught me that,
Mom! You told me that singing is a way of communicating, or saying what
you've got to say. The old man was riding high, touring all over the country,
singing and playing. But then he got old..."
"Charlie," Dennis said, "that's just a song. Surely you don't..."
"Yes I do, Dad. I believe that song. Someone had to write it, and ya don't
write stuff like that unless there is some truth to it somewhere. It may be 'just
a song,' but songs and music are important to me! They talk to me! And this
one says that show business isn't all it's cracked up to be. And I think I
proved it when I got sick.

"Then here comes a maestro from Italy, offering me the chance to live the life
of a freak. I learn to sing the way they did in 1750 or whatever, maybe even
dress up like a woman the way they did back then, and live my life as a
castrato soprano. But we don't have to do that any more! I don't want to do
that! Why can't I just go back to being a farmer like I always was? Is there
some reason I don't know about that men with no nuts can't be farmers?
From all I've read I don't think it affects your brain, and y'all have always
told me I have a good one. So I guess I really don't understand the problem.

"They tell me that as a eunuch I can't do sex any more. I never did do it
really. And whether I do or don't, I can't ever make babies, so what
difference does it make what I do? I don't miss what I never had, but if it's
worth anything, I'm perfectly happy with what I can do, and Andy doesn't
seem to complain either."

Andy nearly had a heart attack when he heard Charlie's last words. He
slumped down in his chair, trying to make himself as small and invisible as
possible; but it was no use, the words were out and so was their secret, if
indeed there'd been any secret to begin with. But to his surprise, no one
seemed to react. No one!

"Mom and Dad," Charlie went on, "it seems like you can't deal with Charlie
the kid with flaws. I've gotta be perfect for you! And when something turns
up that I'm not good at and never will be, you find something I can do that no
one else can! Well excuse me if I don't have sperm! Excuse me if I don't ever
run around breeding every woman in the county! I don't want to do that! I
never did, and now I don't for sure! Why can't I just be your son like I
always was? Why do I have to go off to Italy and study with all the other
eunuch boys in the world? Why can't you understand that I don't have to do
that? I don't have to make a new life for myself just because of what
happened to me? I like the way I am! I love my home too, or at least I did.
Now I'm not even sure I have one any more. Am I one of those kids Mr.
Pezzoni is talking about, who have lost their home because they're eunuchs?
Why can't I do what I always did? I can still farm, and I can still sing for my
own enjoyment, and the enjoyment of anyone else who wants to hear. So why
can't I just do that now?"

Charlie was starting to cry as he ranted on. "I saw a movie while I was in
hospital. Andy went out and rented it for me. It was about the most famous of
all the Italian castrati. Mom, in the very start of that movie they showed a
castrato committing suicide! That's what happened to castrati who couldn't
sing, or who weren't the very best. Is that what's gonna happen to me? Am I
just a singing machine now? That's what Farinelli's own brother said. He said
that Farinelli was nothing without his voice. Well if all I am now is a singing
machine then I might as well be dead. Dad, you told me that things are not
different now. You told me that eunuchs are really no different from anyone
else. That's what you said, Dad! And now you want me to go off to Italy to
train my voice 'cause without that I'm nothing!"

The four adults in the room had lots of arguments, lots of counters for what
Charlie was saying. But they didn't say anything. Charlie was really angry
now, and the more he spoke, the angrier he seemed to become. Worst of all,
they all realized that he was right! They had been bartering and bantering as if
he was a commodity, a chattel, not a pretty upset little boy. So they let him go
on.

"Mr. Meoli, I owe you a lot! If it hadn't been for you, I might never have had
Andy as a brother. And man what a brother he's been! It still isn't quite a
year since I met him, and already I cannot imagine life without him. I suppose
some day he or I will get married or move away or something, but right now
he's my big brother and I can't face even a day without him! And we've got
you to thank for that. When I was in the hospital it seemed every time I woke
up, Andy was there. He went to school, did all my work on the farm, and still
found time to be with me in the hospital every time I needed him. And it
might not have happened if it hadn't been for you, Mr. Meoli.

"When Andy found that mess about the cancer, he came to you and you
helped again. Thanks to you I got out of the hospital, and we'll be getting a
big cash settlement from them so now we can buy the land we need to keep
the farm going, buy some better equipment, and Dad can even quit his job if
he wants to. So you see you've made it possible for us to stay on the farm. So
why would I want to leave?

"I hope we can still be friends, Mr. Meoli; but I hope that we won't be
needing your money and your help any more. I know you meant well by
making that offer, but I don't WANT to be a great singer! Not if it means
leaving my family. I guess maybe till tonight I didn't even know that myself;
but the thoughts of leaving the farm, leaving my family... well I'm just not
ready. I guess I still have some growing up to do. That song we just sang
made me think real hard about show business, and it's just not for me. It's
fine when you're young and pretty and sing well, but what about when I'm
older? And what if it doesn't work? What then? I know I can farm and I like
it. So why wouldn't I just stay here and do what I do best?

"Mr. Pezzoni, I appreciate your offer, and I know that if I didn't have the
home I have, the family I have, I'd jump at the chance to go. But I can't
leave! I have chores to do, I have school and I know I'm gonna regret sayin'
this, but I like school! And then there's my brother. Just on the way here
tonight we started makin' plans to teach him to sing and play. You already
said my mom is a pretty good teacher, an' I'm not so bad either. You heard
him sing tonight with no training at all! I think he was pretty good! So maybe
in a year or so you'll be able to come and hear him and me sing a duet. I
know I'm lookin' forward to it."

"I guess that means that you are declining the offer?" Carlo said after a long
silence."
"Yes sir, I am." Charlie answered. The tone in his voice, the determination on
his face, told all present that there was no need to argue, and no one did.
"The point is," Charlie explained, "Tonio had no options; I do. This isn't 18th
century Italy, it's 20th century America, and I still have lots of options! At
lease I think I do, Dad? Mom?"
"Who is Tonio?" Dennis asked, confused.
"Read the book, Dad." Charlie challenged, "And then tell me I'm making the
wrong choice!" Of course Andy knew who Tonio was, and so did Guido. At
that moment no one else mattered to Charlie.
"I hate to lose the chance to train you Charlie," Guido said, "But I
understand. You have far more right here than I could ever give you. I think
you've made the right decision. I would still like to do some coaching when I
am in this country, perhaps have you come to Italy for a visit now and then.
But I understand your not wanting to leave home and I respect it."

"Well," Charlie said with a very hurt look on his face, "Perhaps I've been too
hasty. My parents still haven't said if I have the option of staying here.
Maybe I should just go with you. Maybe that'd make everybody happy."

Having made that last observation, Charlie didn't wait for an answer. He
looked around at his family, burst into tears and ran out of the room. Not
knowing where else to go in this strange, huge house, he bolted out the front
door and down the long driveway toward the road.

                      *       *       *

I truly hope you enjoy this story. If you do, or even if you don't, please
be so kind as to let me know by writing me at charlieje@mindspring.com.