Date: Fri, 22 Dec 2000 20:14:36 -0500
From: Charlie <cjewett@nc.rr.com>
Subject: Andy-revised 25

I am sure that those readers who, like me, have a real passion for music, will
understand what I am about to say. Have you ever heard a song, piece of
religious music, classical, whatever, and were so profoundly affected by its
message that it has changed your life forever? I mean, it changes your whole
outlook; your major life decisions, sometimes even your understanding of
why you are here at all! I have had that experience many times in my life. I
get so frustrated by people who say they are "listening" to music, meanwhile
they are talking, calling people on the phone, clattering about the kitchen or
workshop. That is NOT listening! That is what elevator music is for!
LISTENING is using all your attention, dedicating your entire consciousness
to whatever it is. Listening is understanding that someone, the song writer,
had something to say, and being interested in what that person was saying.

Like young Charlie in the story, and later Andy, my mother taught me to sing
and play and to have a real passion for music. Unfortunately I am not even
close to the accomplished musician that I portray in my story. My mom was
an invalid by the time I was 12, dead when I was 14. My father had no
interest in my music, or anything else I did for that matter; but my mom gave
me what I consider to be the two best gifts of them all: (1) a deep and
enduring faith in God; (2) a passion for music that makes me, I mean
FORCES me to listen to every song I hear: the words, the musical phrasing,
and to take to heart whatever message I hear from it. It is almost as if she
knew from the time I was a baby that she would not be around to see me
grow up, so she made sure she'd set the stage for a happy son, which one
way or the other I have always been. So with that in mind, I submit the next
installment of Andy.


                     XXV The Rehearsal

Saturday morning was dress rehearsal time, and Charlie had been forewarned
that he would have no time for his family. To the choir, this was an even that
happened four or five times a year; a fund raising event. To Charlie it was the
culmination of three weeks of grueling work. This was the climax of his
month in Italy. Karen and Dennis chose to tour the countryside, thinking it
would be better to see the concert for the first time Saturday night when the
performance was actually live. Andy, on the other hand, had been away from
Charlie long enough, so he was dropped at the school at 8 am and spent the
day in an empty auditorium watching Guido put the choir through their paces.

When they made their processional, all the time singing a hymn in Latin
which was chosen and arranged to accentuate their high voices, Andy thought
he'd never heard anything so beautiful! Then when they came down the aisle
and into sight, Andy saw for the first time their black robes. He couldn't
believe how incredibly erotic Charlie looked, covered from neck to ankles in
that black robe! And I thought he looked good in his boxers! Andy thought to
himself.

The rehearsal went on for hours. Paul was there, as he was in all
performances and rehearsals. He mostly just mouthed the words, contributing
vocally only when he was sure he could do it; but it was a rule of the school
that every resident be a part of this choir. Paul wasn't the only one who didn't
sing all the time, but he sang less than anyone. But he was there, and Andy
was impressed. He didn't know if he could have done it under the
circumstances.

When the choir broke for lunch, Andy joined Charlie and Paul in the
cafeteria. Guido had made it very clear that they were in for a long day, and
he wasn't breaking his promise. 'You guys really sound good!" Andy
exclaimed as they sat down with their lunch.
"Glad you think so." Charlie grumbled, "It seems that Signore Guido doesn't
agree."
"Don't worry about him, Charlie," Paul said, "He's always like this before a
concert. He just wants everything to be perfect."
"I know, but there comes a point where you're just numb to all he says. It just
doesn't make sense to push us like that when we're already tired. And we
still have to go through the whole concert tonight! Jeez, I'm not gonna be able
to move by that time, let alone sing!"
"I've never known you when you couldn't sing," Paul reassured him with
admiration, "You'll be fine!"

"I agree," Andy said, "And by the way, you guys look totally awesome in
those robes. I mean, totally AWESOME!"
"Really?" Charlie grinned, "Does that mean you want me to wear this robe to
bed from now on?"
"Well," Andy chuckled, "Maybe it's isn't THAT awesome."
"I hate this robe!" Paul exclaimed. "Every time I wear it I think of how I got
here. When I wear it, it's like I was telling the whole world I'm a castrato... a
useless one 'cause I can't sing."
"You're not useless, Paul!" Andy answered, "And we'll prove it to you if
you'll give us the chance." As soon as the words were out, Andy realized that
he'd said something he shouldn't have said.

"It's ok, bro." Charlie said, "I told him."
"You told him? About... your plan?"
"Uh-huh."
"Dad's gonna kill you!"
"Yeah, well, you've said that before. But I bet you a hundred dollars when he
finds out he'll just say he knew I couldn't keep a secret like that."
"I know you're right. But still... We don't want to get you all excited just to
have a disappointment, Paul."
"I know, Andy. Charlie told me last night 'cause he said it just wasn't fair to
ask me to decide in just a few hours. But it turns out that's all I needed. I
would love to be your little brother!"

"Uhhh... Andy," Charlie said somewhat tentatively, "There's something you
gotta know."
"Charlie!" Paul said, knowing full well what was coming, "You think this is
the right time?"
"It don't matter if it is or not, Paul. Andy and I don't have secrets, do we
bro?"
"You don't have to tell me," Andy said, "I already figured it out. You guys
did it last night didn't you?"
'Yeah we did, Andy." Charlie said, "And Andy,... Paul said... well why don't
you tell him, Paul?"

Paul looked at Charlie with a look that would kill any normal mortal. "Uhh...
Andy," he said nervously, "I kinda told him, if we get outa this and end up
back in North Carolina all together... uhh..."
"Paul," Andy said, "Why don't you just spit it out? What?"
"It's just that... till last night, I never did anything with anyone. But Charlie
was so awesome! I thought maybe... I mean if you are interested..."
"What, Paul? Are you saying..."
"Yeah, Andy, I am. I wanna be your brother! I mean, the way Charlie is."
"You mean?"
"Yeah, I guess I do."
"Well then," Andy grinned, "We just gotta make that happen, don't we lil
bro?"
"Just leave it to me, big bro." Charlie said back, " It's gonna happen. An' I
think you're gonna be pleasantly surprised."

"You must be awful bored, Andy." Charlie said as they made their way back
to the auditorium.
"Well," Andy agreed, "it is a pretty long day just sitting there."
"I got a book back in the dorms you might find interesting. Think you could
find your way back there?"
"I think so. What's the book about?"
"It's a history of Italy, and in particular this region. It's real interesting.
There's not one word in it about castrati or music or all that stuff. It's just a
history of some of the families, the rulers, stuff like that."
"Well, I'm not the history buff you are, but it's something to do. How do I
find it?"

Charlie gave directions on how to find the dorm, then how to find his bed
once he got there. Andy set off, having assured Charlie and Paul he would
either be in the dorm or back in the auditorium when they were through. The
two castrati then made their way back to the auditorium where Guido had
been working with them on a particularly difficult passage. He certainly was
talented musically, and no one on earth had more energy, more dedication.
But he worked those boys so hard! Charlie wondered if he wasn't taking
advantage of them and their obvious admiration for him. But he set to the task
at hand and did his best.

Andy wandered the halls of the old school, following Charlie's directions
until he found the dorm. The building was so quiet it was almost spooky! He
looked down the long room at the beds, all made to perfection. In his mind he
saw the boys who slept here and he found himself almost in tears, thinking of
all the tragedy, all the agony the residents here had experienced. Charlie had
told him Paul's story and a few others. He described the scene in the shower
every morning. Some boys had been mutilated terribly; some had nothing at
all between their legs. Others, like Charlie, had everything except the contents
of their scrotums. But every single one of them, Andy knew, had behind him
a story of disappointment and despair. Every one of them, Charlie had said,
was here because for one reason or another he didn't have a loving family
like Andy and Charlie depended on so much. Andy knew that this place was
providing a valuable service; but he doubted that Charlie needed what was
found here.

As he rummaged around Charlie's bed looking for the book, he sensed more
than saw a movement behind him. He whirled around, but saw nothing. He
sat a moment, just wondering if he was becoming paranoid. He turned back to
his task. There it was again! There was someone or something in the room
with him. Quickly setting a strategy, he centered his attention on Charlie's
bedside table, or so it seemed. Yes, there was that movement again, only this
time Andy saw it out of the corner of his eye. He waited... the movement
happened again. He quickly turned and sprang. Flying through the air he
landed on the bed opposite Charlie's, with the offending form under him.
"What the..." he exclaimed.

Andy found himself lying on top of a very small boy... a very blond skinny
boy, who was fighting hard to get free, and fighting just as hard, with equally
unsuccessful results, at keeping back his tears. "Who... who are you?" the
boy asked in perfect English.
"I think I could also ask," Andy said, "Who are YOU?"

They struggled some more, but the boy was no match for Andy's weight and
strength. "I'll get off ya," Andy said, "But you gotta promise you won't try to
run, ok?"
"O..ok." Andy got off the boy. "Now," he said, "Who are you?"

The boy bolted. He ran the length of the room and collided with a very large
man who had appeared in the doorway. The impact knocked him backward
and to the floor."Christopher!" the man said, "What are you doing here?"
Then to Andy, "And who are you?"
"I'm sorry, Signore!" the boy said through a flood of tears, "I'll go to
rehearsal. But who is that?" he said, pointing to Andy.

Andy finally got his wits about him and concluded that everyone would keep
asking everyone else who he was until someone broke the chain, so he said
"I'm Andy Conner. I'm sorry, I was just..."
"You're American. You must be Charlie's brother. I'm Signore Petroni, one
of the dorm parents. And this young delinquent is Christopher. Christopher,
go apologize to Master Conner. He is our guest."
"You... you're Charlie's brother?" Christopher said, his wide eyes growing
even wider, "I'm so sorry! I thought you were an intruder."

For the first time Andy realized that this young boy had a decidedly Italian
accent in spite of his good English. As if that weren't enough to get his
interest, he quite obviously belonged here. But who was he? And what was
he doing here in the dorm all alone while the rest of the residents were in
rehearsal?

As if sensing his confusion, Signore Petroni explained. "Christopher
sometimes makes mistakes in judgment," he said. "He should be in the
auditorium but the other boys make fun of him, so Signore Guido doesn't
force him to go. He usually spends his time in the gym or the garden, but I
guess today he unfortunately decided to stay in the dorm."

"But... why would they laugh at him? I mean..."
"Cause I'm not like the other boys," Christopher sniffled.
"But..." Andy protested, "there are other boys no bigger than you are in the
choir. They don't seem to have any problems."
"I don't mean that kind of different," Christopher said, his Italian accent
seemingly growing thicker the more he spoke. "I'm... I'm not a castrato. At
least not yet."
"Not yet? That means you're going to be? How? Why? What's going on?"

Andy had finally calmed down and had a good look at the boy. He looked
like thousands of little boys he'd seen on the streets of Atlanta, although
possibly a little more handsome than most. His platinum hair was cropped
neatly, slightly long on top; his light skin clean and fragrant, his deep green
eyes surrounded now by the wide white ring of a child who was very
frightened. Even in his fright, or perhaps because of it, he had melted Andy's
heart. What was he doing here? Where had he got that accent? He was quite
obviously not Italian. And most important, had Andy stumbled upon a part of
the school he wasn't supposed to see? Were they indeed obtaining young
boys and castrating them to perpetuate their choir?

Again, signore Petroni seemed to sense Andy's thoughts and tried to explain.
"Signore Guido was on a trip to Chicago," he said, "when Christopher's
parents were in an automobile accident and killed. Signore's taxi was the first
car on the scene. He found that Christopher had no living relatives that
anyone could find, so he brought him back to Italy rather than see him go to a
home, or worse still, just live on the streets. Christopher was only four when
he came here. He so wants to be like the other boys, but of course castrating
him for no reason is out of the question. I'm afraid the others really do cause
him a great deal of grief. He is a good boy and a good student, but as long as
he is here he will probably be unhappy because he cannot be like the others.
Please don't be angry with him."

"Angry?" Andy questioned, "Good heavens no! Chris, I'd like to be your
friend."
"Christopher," the boy corrected. "Why do you want to be my friend?"
"Because I've got a feeling you need one. And I guess we're kinda two of a
kind around here. I'm not a castrato either."
"You're not? And it doesn't bother you?"
"Course not! So how about it? Can we be friends?" Andy stuck out his hand.
The boy cowered away, then shot a glance at Signore Petroni who nodded,
then slowly grinned widely as he took the hand offered and allowed himself
to be pulled up off the floor. When he grinned he showed two rows of the
whitest, most perfect teeth Andy had ever seen. Just like he'd noticed the first
time he saw Charlie, that entire little face seemed to transform when he
grinned into a glowing radiance. He was beautiful!

"Tell ya what," Andy said, "I bet no one would mind if you came back to the
auditorium with me to watch the rest of the rehearsal, if that's ok Signore
Petroni?" The man nodded. "I bet they won't make fun of you when you're
with me. And if they do I'll clean their clocks!"
"Thank you, Signore. I'd love to go with you."
"Andy. My friends call me Andy." The grin grew wider.
"Okey dokey, Andy. Follow me."

When Andy and Christopher walked into the auditorium, Charlie saw him
instantly. So did Paul, and so did Guido. Guido had in fact been planning to
send for the boy to do the solo he was going to do on the tour, knowing that
his beautiful high voice would enhance the rehearsal; but when he saw him
with Andy, both their faces radiant with a smile he didn't see that often on
Christopher, he decided that they could do without during rehearsal. He knew
that Christopher would do well on the tour, practice or no practice. They
were almost finished, it was approaching 6 PM and the boys were tired, so
Guido turned his attention back to finishing up so they could all have a
relaxed evening.

                     *       *       *

"Andy! Dennis exclaimed. "Charlie! What are you two doing to me? You're
double teaming me, that's what!" It was 8 PM Saturday evening. Karen and
Dennis had picked Andy and Charlie up at school and had taken them out to
eat. The boys had reluctantly left their new friends behind because what they
had to discuss would better be done with just the family there. Charlie knew
Christopher of course but hadn't paid him much attention. Now he'd left Paul
and Christopher together, instructing each to stick with the other. "You can't
come over here and just snatch choir members as if it was some sort of cattle
auction!" Dennis went on. "One boy, who doesn't really contribute anyway,
is one thing. But little Christopher, I understand he is quite a singer."
"Not for long." Charlie answered, "He's not a castrato, Dad, and you should
hear all the things the others say to him. He's not happy here. And when his
voice starts to change it's gonna get worse!"

Andy had given Charlie a "heads up" what was on his mind, and Charlie had
agreed. He had shared with Andy that he felt guilty for not sticking up for the
unhappy boy when the others got on his case, but being the new kid on the
block he had simply not had the courage. "Not had the courage?" Andy
questioned, "You?"
"Yeah, me!" Charlie had answered. "I got limits too, even if you can't see
'em."

"Dad," Andy said, "you said yourself one time that you wished you had a
larger family. You have given me such a wonderful home, I want to share it.
An' in case you're wondering, it isn't sexual. I just see a kid in distress and I
can't stand it!"
"But it's not that simple, Andy. There's the whole issue of immigration. I
have no idea how to even begin immigrating two children to the States."
"Gotcha, Dad!" Charlie grinned. "They are both American citizens!
Christopher was born in Chicago and Paul was born in Los Angeles. Paul's
parents knew what turmoil there was in their country, so they came to the
States before he was born so he'd have another option if he ever needed it.
They had been trying to immigrate themselves when they got killed."

Dennis shook his head. He looked at Karen: no help there. The look on her
face was one of empathy, and he knew she was putting herself in the place of
those boys; what she saw there was not very pretty. "As usual," he said with
a sigh, "you two have obviously done your homework. I just don't know.
And Charlie, what guarantee do we have that you won't come back here next
year and find another boy or two you want to adopt? I mean, sooner or later
Guido won't have any choir left."
"Not a problem, Dad." Charlie said. "I'm not coming back."

Now the entire family was quiet, staring at their young musician. "Not
coming back?" Dennis questioned, "But why? You seemed to have had a
great time! You even ordered our dinners tonight, in Italian! You have learned
so much in three weeks!"
"Yeah," Andy agreed, "And that choir! Mom, it's nothing short of
breathtaking!"
"Charlie," Karen said, "You could learn so much! Guido is obviously a very
talented music teacher, and he apparently loves every one of his boys.
Doesn't he?"
"Yeah, Mom, he does. But..."

Charlie was having a little trouble putting his feelings into words. But Karen,
always the understanding mother, was never more connected with her son
than she was right now. She looked at her two sons, then looked around the
restaurant at the other patrons, the waiters; then she looked back at Charlie.
"This really is a different world for you, isn't it Charlie?" she said as she took
his hand.

"Mom," Charlie said, sensing that she would understand when no one else
would, "I really love it here! I mean the music, the school, all so organized
and precise, just the way I like things. I loved having to learn Italian. I can't
really speak the language very well yet, but I can at least get us all something
to eat. I want to finish learning and I will. But I can't do it here."
"But why?" Dennis demanded. "Carlo was so thrilled that you agreed to
come! I know he'll find the money to finance you any time you decide to
come. And your music..."

"That's just it, Dad. My music is... well... it is something I really enjoy. But
it's not gonna rule my life 'cause that would make me like them, and I
couldn't stand that."
"Like them? Who them?"
"The castrati! They eat and sleep music! They live and breathe their singing,
their voices! Without music they are nothing, just like in the eighteenth
century. Remember that song I learned off the CD, the one that Bill Anderson
sang?"
"How could we forget?" Dennis chuckled. "You sing it every chance you get.
I think I could recite the words right now."
"But did you ever LISTEN to the words? Did you ever really hear them?
About the old man who tried to make it in show business but never quite
made it? He says in that song that when he was young he never provided for
his old age because he always thought he'd be a star someday. And now he's
old and his voice is gone so no one wants him? Did you ever hear all that,
Dad?"

Andy could see that Charlie was on another of his rolls. When Charlie got
like this there was no shutting him up until he was through. The only
difference is, this time Andy understood in advance what was coming and he
agreed! In every last point, Andy totally agreed!

"Take Paul, for example," Charlie went on. "Ok, he is a castrato, through no
fault of his own. The things he's been through I've only read about, but he
saw them with his own eyes! He watched while his whole family was
murdered. Then he watched, until he passed out, while they castrated him. He
woulda died if it hadn't been for some of their hired hands who loved him
enough to save him. Doesn't that say something about what kinda people
Paul's family was? So then along comes Signore Guido and gives him a
second chance at a good life. Only problem is Guido's offer kinda depends on
Paul being able to sing, but he can't. He can't carry a tune in a bucket!

"Then there's Christopher. Through a bunch of coincidences, he ends up
coming back to the school with Signore Guido. He's cool because he can sing
really well. He has a voice that makes mine sound like a vibrating tin can. But
he's not a castrato! So in a few years his voice will change and his singing, at
least in this place, is over! At fourteen years old he'll be like that old man in
the song. He'll be a has-been! And he still has his whole life ahead of him.

"Everyone here at the school has been great to me. They have made me feel
one of them, and that's the problem. I'm NOT one of them! They're snobs,
Dad! I mean, if you can't sing, if you still have all your body parts, you're not
part of them! Signore Guido has worked real hard to make them believe they
are not outcasts just because of what happened to them. But I think he's gone
a little too far. Now they think that if you're not a eunuch, or even if you are
but you can't sing, you're something less than they are. I don't think that way
and I don't want to learn. What happened to me happened and no one can
change it. But I am living with it, and I think y'all are too. I got that great
home and all that love, and I don't need music to worm my way into a life.
And that's why I know that I can never come back. And I also know that Paul
and Christopher will never be happy here. They just don't fit in! And neither
do I! Andy, have I left out anything?"
"Err... no Charlie," Andy answered. "I think you've covered it all pretty
well."

All three of Charlie's family: Karen, Dennis, Andy, were once again left
speechless at what Charlie had learned in the three weeks he'd been a
resident in Italy. He had learned so much more than he'd been taught; he had
proven once more that one's education consists of so much more than theory
and books and professors, mathematical equations and historical dates. "I..."
Dennis stammered, "I'll speak to Guido in the morning."
"Tonight, Dad!" Charlie said. "He'll be up. And tomorrow he'll be so busy
with the tour he won't have time to think of anything else. Our first
performance is tomorrow at 2."

Charlie had a great difficulty hiding his elation. What he hadn't told anyone,
not even Andy, was that he knew what Guido's reaction would be. He had
spoken to him days ago about both boys, and had learned that in both cases
Guido had been actively searching for an adoptive family. Guido cared deeply
for the boys and that caring would simply not permit him to allow either of
them to remain unhappy at the school, nor to be adopted by just anyone.
Indeed, Guido's own wife had cared for Christopher as her own son until her
death two years ago. Guido had chosen to place him in the residence with the
other boys because he was away so much, and so busy when he was home. A
mistake? Perhaps. But at the time Guido had decided it was best for
Christopher. But now, Charlie knew, Guido had already begun putting the
pins in place to provide the two boys with a home, should his wildest dreams
come true.

                    *       *         *

"Man!" Paul exclaimed after Charlie had reviewed the evening for him, "that
musta been some dinner!"
"You'll be at the next one," Charlie promised. "I only hope you like living in
North Carolina."
"If you're there, Charlie, I could live anywhere. And I promise that before
you know it, you're gonna be speaking Italian with the best of 'em!"
"And I promise you're gonna be singing in our new family band!" Charlie
answered. "But Paul, there's one thing you gotta understand..."
"I already know, Charlie. It's about you and Andy isn't it?"
"Yeah, it is. I still don't think either one of us understands exactly what's
goin' on with us, but for the time being Andy is number one in my life. The
only reason we did what we did last night was 'cause Andy said it was ok.
I'm sorry Paul, that's just how it is."
"I know that, man. And I won't cross that line, I promise. But... uhh... do you
suppose the permission he gave you last night could be applied to tonight?"
"I think that makes sense to me," Charlie answered. Deep down in his heart
he didn't feel absolutely good about it, but knowing Andy as he did, he knew
he'd be forgiven. And the one he was lying with right now was... not Andy,
but certainly wonderful to the touch, and so incredibly passionate!

"Paul," Charlie whispered, "you make it awful hard for me to remember that
we're both eunuchs and aren't supposed to be able to do this stuff."
"And you," Paul answered as his hands moved inside Charlie's boxers, "you
just... well, make it awfully hard!"

                     *       *       *

Andy was quite obviously ill at ease as he and his parents made their way
back to their hotel room. Dennis, more sensitive than most fathers, noticed it;
but not before Karen had clued in that all was not well. "Andy," she said as
soon as they were in their room. "What is it? What's bothering you?"
"Nothin' really," he answered.
"I've always found," Karen said, "when one of my sons says 'nothin' really,'
it usually means that a great deal is wrong. So let's have it, ok?"

Andy fought the tears hard, but he lost. "I'm... I'm afraid we're gonna lose
Charlie!" he sniffled.
"Lose him? You mean you think he and Paul are..."
"No, Mom, I don't mean that. He likes Paul, probably even loves him! But
I'm not worried about him not loving me. We're brothers and that's really all
that's important. I think Charlie has the capacity to love a dozen people, and
he'd somehow manage to balance them all."
"Then what? Why do you think you're gonna lose him?" Dennis questioned.
"Not ME, Dad, US! I think we might all lose him. I think he's thinking of
staying here in Italy, to be with Paul and Christopher."

Dennis looked at Karen, then at Andy. There was no doubt that he was
serious and equally no doubt that Karen had no more idea what Andy was
talking about than he did. "I'm afraid you're gonna have to explain, Andy,"
he said. "I'm totally confused. Charlie made it very clear that he didn't want
to stay here, that he didn't even want to come back for another visit. So why
all of a sudden do you think he's changed his mind?"

"I've been doing a lot of thinking," Andy answered. "And I think I've
discovered some things about all of us that I didn't understand. Dad, you're
not planning to take those boys back, are you?"
"Andy," Dennis answered, somewhat irritated, "I promised Charlie I'd call
Guido and I will."
"That's the point. You said you'd CALL him. But you made no promise to
take them home with us if you could. You're not, are you?"

"Andy, do you have any idea what's involved? Do you have any idea what a
risk it is, how heavy the responsibility of taking on a child?"
"I think I have some idea. Remember I've been there. And yes, I know it's a
big risk, but you were willing to take it for me. Why me? Do they deserve a
family any less than I do? You're not planning to adopt them, are you Dad?"
"No, son, I'm not. It's just so much to take on right now. What with the farm
expansion, all that debt, you planning on college next year, I don't know if
we..."
"That doesn't cut it, Dad. Your own son, your ONLY son at the time, was
dying of cancer and you still went ahead with adopting me. So before you
make your final decision I got a few things to say."

Andy had held back expressing his opinions, considering that he was new kid
on the block, hadn't known his parents very long, always had Charlie to
speak for him; and Charlie was certainly not shy about expressing his
opinions. But now Andy was "flying on his own," and he discovered with
amazement that he was about to say things, about to take a stand that he
never would have dreamed he'd do. He realized that he wasn't even nervous!
Without knowing when it had happened, he had come to the point where he
had that same incredible self confidence that he'd always admired in Charlie!
He had something to say, and it was coming out.

"When I first came to the farm I was totally in awe of Charlie. He was good
at everything. There was nothing he was afraid to tackle; no mechanical
problem, no music, no school project. And when he took on something
difficult his attitude wasn't 'I'll try,' but 'I'll do it.' Plain and simple, no
fanfare, he simply faced whatever it was and assumed he could do it until he
was proven wrong. Of course with confidence like that he wasn't very often
proven wrong. He had me thinking this kid's IQ must be somewhere in the
stratosphere! He always got angry when anyone called him a super kid, or
genius, or very intelligent. I could never understand that, but I do now.
Charlie's nothing special, really. It's his parents! You guys! Y'all have made
him everything he is."

"That's hard to believe," Dennis said bitterly, "when you consider Garth. We
sure didn't make much of him."
"I told ya before, Dad, that die was cast before he was even born. I don't
know how or why, but like I've already said, I saw dozens of kids just like
him. They don't like the way they are but they can't seem to control it. No
one coulda done more, and from what Charlie has told me, no one coulda
tried harder."

"Ok," Dennis said, "but I don't see what that has to do with losing Charlie."
"I'm getting to that. But don't you see, you and Mom are simply great
teachers, great parents, and y'all can motivate like no one I've ever seen! You
took Charlie, a very depressed, very sad little boy and turned him into what
he is today. I guess I began to realize all this when I started achieving things
myself I never dreamed I would ever come close to. Charlie is not only
talented and dedicated, focused, but I am getting that way too. I have that
same self confidence that I admired in Charlie so much!"
"But what does that have to do with..."

"That's just it, Dad. Charlie got one other characteristic from y'all, one I
don't think he knows himself that he has. He has an absolute need to help
wherever he can. He has no choice even if he wanted one; he is totally bound
to helping wherever and whenever he can! Maybe he's trying to make it up to
Garth for some sin he thinks he committed, I dunno; but I do know that he
can't help himself. And then he encounters Paul and Christopher. They are
both obviously unhappy, with no positive changes any time soon.
Christopher's very life is in danger!
"His life?" Karen questioned, "Isn't that a little melodramatic?"
"Not at all. He is committed to getting castrated so he'll fit in here. And ya
know what? I think there are some of the older students at that school who
will probably do it to him sooner or later, and they just might kill him in the
process. But Christopher is desperate enough to take that chance."

"Andy," Karen said, "that's terrible! But there are rules at the school! Guido
would never..."
"There were rules in the eighteenth century too, Mom. But it still happened.
And the church outwardly encouraged it by using the castrati in their choirs.
And you know very well that rules don't always dictate what happens."
"But I still don't see what all this has to do with Charlie," Dennis argued.

"Charlie," Andy explained, "is still in many ways a little boy. I don't know if
it's the lack of hormones, or if it is just him; but in many ways he is still only
nine or ten years old. So he sees these kids, in danger of emotional stress,
trauma, maybe even death, and he has this compulsion to help them. One way
he can help is to get them out of here and into the home he's always known
as a happy and safe place. Failing that, he will stay here to protect them.
Mom, Dad, trust me on this, right now Charlie is more than likely in bed with
Paul telling him absolutely that he will be coming home with us because he
believes it's true. In case you didn't know it already, Charlie worships y'all,
and he thinks that between you there's nothing you can't do. And if it doesn't
happen, his next step will be to stay and join the choir. I don't believe he has
a choice. That attitude of helping where he can is so thoroughly ingrained in
him he doesn't even have to think about it, he just acts. And of course the
immature part of Charlie doesn't always put things together the way he
should."

"Andy," Karen said, "you said you think Charlie and Paul are sleeping
together. Does that mean that they are... well, doing more than sleeping?"
"Yes, Mom, they are. Or at least they did some experimenting once.
Ordinarily I would never admit that I know that, but I don't think you
understand Charlie nearly as well as you thought you did. Charlie's being
intimate with Paul, and me for that matter, doesn't mean what you think it
does. Like I said before, when Charlie loves someone he loves completely. I
have no doubt in my mind that if either of y'all were to try anything sexual he
would submit gladly, because that immature side of him would again take
over, and he would give himself to you because he loves you, totally and
absolutely!
"Andy," Dennis scolded, "That's absolutely disgusting! How can you even
think..."

"I know it's disgusting, Dad. And Charlie probably thinks it is too, which is
my point. Charlie will give the ones he loves everything, including his body,
even his life! It's just the way Charlie is! And that's why I have no problem
sharing him. I think there's a very good chance that someday he will meet a
girl, or possibly a boy, who will totally captivate him. But in the meantime he
just loves everyone he gets attached to, and his love is so complete there are
no holds barred! Mom, you told me one time you didn't think Charlie was
gay. Well, I think you're right; but he isn't straight either. He simply does not
bother himself with trivial lines like gender. He is capable of loving
anybody!"

Dennis rubbed his chin as he always did when he had a lot to think about. In
his mind he pictured Charlie in his black robe and red sash, singing his heart
out because that's all he had. He was a permanent member of the castrati
choir and school, destined for... for what after school? He pictured the hell
that had been his eldest son Garth. What guarantee did he have that one of
these two boys wouldn't turn out the same and rip his entire family apart? He
had Andy's guarantee that he and Charlie were good enough judges of people
to know that wouldn't happen; but Andy had already admitted that a part of
Charlie was very immature, sometimes made wrong decisions. What if Andy
also had that same problem? Could he gamble his whole family for the sake
of those two boys? His family had come closer than anyone knew to falling
apart before Garth left; he knew he could never survive another episode like
that! But at the same time he knew that was the chance he was taking. "Go to
bed, Andy." he suddenly ordered, "I have to call Guido."

                     *       *      *

Billy lay in his bed in the Conner house, all alone. It felt really eerie to him,
being in a place that was so quiet. He realized that this was probably the first
time in many years that the house had been so quiet for so long. This had
been the Conner home for three generations, and farm families simply didn't
go away for any more than a night now and then. And then there'd been those
phone calls.

There had been two of them since the sheriff's visit: one from the North
Carolina State Bureau of Investigation, and one from a Sargent of the State
Police. Both had been friendly enough, but wanted to confirm that Charlie
would indeed be back next Wednesday. They wanted flight numbers, times,
airports, everything! They had even asked if there was any chance of a delay.
Billy had tried to maintain his cool, but his brief experience with politicians in
Washington told him in no uncertain terms that something was going on;
something more than what they were admitting.

Carlo Meoli had called yesterday, and Billy had shared his concerns. Carlo
had assured him, as Dennis had, that there was nothing to fear. But Carlo had
also said that he would call their attorney, Evan Turnbull, just in case. Evan
could be doing some groundwork to find out just what's going on. So Billy
had done all there was to do, but that didn't ease the feeling of being alone in
this big house. And it certainly didn't ease the feeling of doom he couldn't
shake.

                              *               *               *


I sincerely hope you enjoy my writing efforts. If you do, or for that matter if
you don't, I would appreciate if you would write to me. My email address is
charlieje@mindspring.com.