Date: Wed, 01 Dec 1999 13:04:45 -0500
From: Charlie <charlieje@mindspring.com>
Subject: Andy-26 (Young-Friends)

              XXVI The Concert Tour

Sunday morning, the Conners' last Sunday in Italy, was one of those days
that it seems as if Nature has pulled out all the stops to show off its best.
At daybreak it was crisp and cool; by 7 AM when the choir boys were
awakened, the sun was shining brilliantly, the temperature had warned to a
comfortable 70 degrees. The birds were singing, the winter flowers
blooming, the sky totally cloudless.

The boys sang Mass as they always did at a large Catholic cathedral. This
was not one of Charlie's favorite activities, but it did have its merits. He
loved the large old cathedral, the music he and the other boys performed,
the grand old organ; but Charlie was a Baptist, and the Catholic worship
service was just too formal to his liking, to say nothing of the fact that it
was mostly in Latin, so for a great deal of the time he had no idea what
was going on. This morning they attended the 9 AM Mass so they'd have a
few hours to prepare for their concert in the same cathedral at 2 PM.

After Mass they all trouped back to the dorm where they showered again,
then had lunch and just relaxed in the dorm until 1 PM. They got dressed,
then endured Guido's inspection before getting ready to do the concert. He
checked every boy thoroughly, making sure ears were clean, teeth were
brushed, hair painfully and carefully combed. When it came Charlie's turn
for inspection, he half expected a sign; some comment to let him know
some news about Guido's conversation with Dennis; but there was
nothing. Could Dennis have failed to call him? Absurd! Dennis had made
a promise and Charlie knew he would never break a promise. Immediately
after the concert the entire choir was to board a bus bound for Naples. It
would not be until some time Monday afternoon that he'd see his parents
again, if then! So he simply had to wait and endure.

At precisely two in the afternoon, the old organ in the cathedral roared to
life, with none other than Guido himself at the console, to play the
processional for the choir. They began to sing as they processed down the
center aisle, two by two. When they reached the front they split and
formed themselves on the platform. It had to be one of the most awe
inspiring, spine tingling performances Charlie had ever experienced! The
organ literally thundered, its deep bass pipes providing its firm unmovable
foundation for the high, clear, crisp voices of the choir. For the moment
Charlie forgot everything except what he was singing; at that moment he
wasn't at all sure he'd made the right decision by not becoming a
permanent part of this choir.

After the processional the choir did a relatively easy number a cappella to
give Guido time to come down from the organ. They were led by one of
the senior students, who had demonstrated in the rehearsals the same
passion, the same talent, as Guido his teacher. Charlie admired him
greatly, and as they sang he pictured himself in this position some day: as
leader of a great choir. Again he wondered, should he not reconsider his
decision to live his life on a farm in North Carolina?

For the next two hours the entire choir stood at the front of the church,
sweating profusely, as Guido put them through their paces. Charlie had
thought that stage lights were hot, but they were freezing compared to this.
In the audience, Karen reacted as any mother would: she almost had to be
restrained from running up and rescuing her son from this torture. But for
all: performers and listeners alike, the ordeal was worth it. The choir was
absolutely flawless! As each selection completed they received a smile
from their leader, which was enough to inspire them to even greater
accomplishments on the next. Now Charlie knew, and so did the rest of his
family, that Guido was indeed giving these boys something to live for,
something to be proud of, at least for the moment.

Andy sat and watched the choir as they performed in the giant cathedral.
How, he thought, could Charlie resist temptations like this? He saw the
look on his brother's face: a look of complete happiness as the choir
seemingly stopped time itself with its clarity, its brilliance, its unity.
Charlie was in his element and Andy knew it. Was this where Charlie
belonged? Were his family being selfish to take him away?

Christopher stepped forward to do his solo. Even though he was only eight
years old, Andy thought he looked tiny. When he started to sing his voice
filled the entire cathedral. Up, up it went, building a crescendo against the
backdrop of the rest of the choir until Andy was sure it would start to
shatter the stained glass windows. He had never heard anything so high, so
clear, so powerful! And from such a tiny form, without aid of any
amplification! Even Charlie had never sung like this!

At the end of the performance, Charlie was so totally exhausted he could
hardly move. Eighteen hours of mowing, raking, baling hay in ninety
degree heat was child's play compared to this! But he was also happy. He
knew he and his mates had done well; that little smile from Guido after
each selection had confirmed it! And as they lay about the floor in the
room they'd been assigned, Guido came to each one in turn and
complimented him, praising some musical phrase they'd excelled in,
commenting on this or that incident where a particular boy had outdone
himself. Guido had an incredible memory, an unbelievable perception of
each boy's strengths and limitations, and could evidently hear each of
them individually. And then they were whisked out the rear of the
cathedral and on to a waiting bus, bound for Naples.

"Mom, Dad..." Andy said after the last encore, "That was... was..."
"Yes, Andy," Karen agreed as she wiped a tear from her eye, "It was,
wasn't it? I thank God that Charlie had this experience!"
"And I thank God we witnessed it." Dennis added.

                *       *       *

It was dark when they arrived in Naples, so the exhausted choir were
ordered straight to bed. They had been billeted in a church hall, with army
style camp cots set up in four rows on the floor. The boys were encouraged
to choose their neighbors, so Charlie, Paul and Christopher were together.
They were far too tired to think of anything but sleep, but once settled on
their cots none of the trio was the least bit sleepy. "Christopher, Charlie,"
Paul said with admiration, "You two were so great today!"
"You weren't so bad yourself." Charlie said, trying to cheer him up as he
was obviously rather depressed, "You really do have a great voice, Paul,
and once you learn to control it..."
"Forget it." Paul answered, "It's hopeless."

Naples! Charlie was in Naples, the city where Tonio, the fictitious
character in the book, "Cry To Heaven," had got his training. Guido had
given the choir the day to wander around on condition that they be back in
time to shower and dress for warm-up at 6 PM. Charlie could see the
volcano as soon as he stepped out on the street. In his mind he pictured
young Tonio making his way up the side of the mountain. It was truly as if
he had taken a step back in time! At any moment he expected to see a
group of castrati in their robes walking to or from a local performance. He
knew he was being silly, but it did something for his comfort level just
being here, knowing all that had happened two centuries ago.

It was still only 7:30 AM, the family weren't due to arrive for another
hour; so Charlie, Paul and Christopher just wandered the streets close to
their temporary home. Charlie's companions had been here before, so he
let them guide him. He walked a few steps behind them, deep in thought as
the two younger boys chattered away about this or that shop, where to get
a good lunch, things they'd seen before and things they hadn't. Charlie
looked at the boys carefully. At 8 and 11, there was still no outward sign
that Paul had been neutered; in fact the opposite was true. He was all of
four feet 6 inches tall or thereabouts; his shoulders were broad and sturdy,
his longish black hair thick and luxurious. He was, Charlie thought, the
picture of beauty! And soon, very soon, his arms and legs would start to
grow out of proportion to the rest of him, and his identity as a normal boy
would be gone forever!

Christopher, on the other hand, was still a very little boy. Charlie noticed
his legs: still very immature, almost baby-ish, as they descended from the
bottoms of his red soccer shorts. Christopher always wore shorts, and they
were almost always very loose soccer style. They appeared to dwarf him
even more! His torso was rather on the shapeless side, another indication
of his tender age. His hair, a very light blonde, rippled and danced when he
ran, but otherwise lay on his head, not flat, but perfectly well behaved.
Charlie found that hair terribly erotic, which made him wonder if his own
rippled that way when he ran. He couldn't see Christopher's deep green
eyes as they walked along the street, but no matter, they had burned an
image in Charlie's memory that would last forever, and he could recall it
any time he pleased. In spite of himself Charlie began thinking how utterly
cool it would be having these two as his brothers.

When Dennis' rented Mercedes finally arrived at the church hall, Charlie
had begun to wonder if they'd got lost. As soon as the car had stopped they
all piled in and headed for the outskirts. There was a lookout near
Vesuvius, Dennis explained, where they could get closer to the volcano.
From there he'd planned several other tourist attractions so they all could
see more of the city. "That's fine, Dad," Charlie said impatiently, "But
what about Paul and Christopher?"
"Of course they can come too." Dennis answered without expression.
"Dad, you know what I mean! What'd you find out?"
"I found out what you already knew, Charlie! I found out that Guido is
actively looking for homes for both boys and has been for some time. It
seems that you've done it to me again."
"Not really, Dad," Charlie grinned, "You always taught me to be
prepared."

"It's not all settled yet," Dennis said, knowing full well that Charlie would
not rest until he knew all there was to know, "But Guido's attorneys here
in Italy are working with Evan Turnbull, and things look good. I've made
arrangements for Andy to go with you boys on the tour, and your mom and
I have to go to Rome in the morning to sign some papers and get things set
up. We don't have a lot of time, but we'll be getting two more seats on the
plane, that is if you boys want that."
"YESSSSS!" Four boys chorused. "You won't be sorry, Dad." Charlie
promised, "All four of us will make sure you're never sorry!"

"Uhhh, Dad," Charlie said after the shouting had calmed down, "You and
Mom aren't gonna miss the performance tonight are ya?"
"No, son," Dennis answered, "We'll be there. But what's so important
about tonight?"
"Nothin' really. It's just that I'm hoping to have a little surprise for y'all, if
I can get it set up."
"What kinda surprise?" they all wanted to know.
"If I told ya it wouldn't be a surprise, would it? An' besides, I'm not sure
yet if I can get it all arranged." The entire family, including the two newest
members, tried to get more information out of Charlie, but he simply
wasn't talking.

Even Andy hadn't known the part about finishing the tour with his
brothers. That may very well be the best news of all! Guido had assured
Dennis that he wouldn't be excess baggage, that he could use Andy's help
in taking care of the younger boys: getting them bathed and dressed, seeing
to it that they didn't get lost, helping to attend to any emergencies that
might occur. Andy accepted his assignment with a vengeance, making so
many friends he'd begun to wonder if perhaps he should consider making
the job permanent. As he was helping a cute seven year old into his robe,
ne noticed out of the corner of his eye Charlie and Christopher slip off
together.

"You really think it'd be all right with Signore Guido?" Charlie asked.
"I think he'd love it, Charlie." Christopher answered, "And I KNOW I
would. I'll ask him during the inspection, ok?"
"Sounds like a plan, lil brother." Charlie said.
"Lil Brother?" Christopher questioned.
"Well, maybe it's rushing things a little. But that's what you're gonna be."
"Charlie, that's so kewl!" Christopher exclaimed as he hugged Charlie,
who responded by wrapping his arms around his new brother's little body
and marveling at the firmness, the strength of this gorgeous creature. How
could he have not noticed before? But then he had been pretty busy with
Paul, hadn't he? "We better get back," he whispered, "You know Signore
Guido doesn't like to be kept waiting.

The concert had begun as the first one had: Guido at the console of the
large pipe organ, absolutely thrilling everyone with his playing, enhancing
the music that was coming from his choir as the boys processed down the
aisle to the nave where they took their positions. This cathedral had been
standing for over three hundred years, which of course meant that there
had been hundreds, perhaps even thousands of castrati standing precisely
where Charlie now stood. That thought caused a thrill to go through his
body, followed by a shudder as he looked at Christopher's back, standing
in front of him. Had this been 200 years ago, Christopher would probably
already be a eunuch, for no other reason than that he was a good singer.

The boys went through their various musical selections until it came time
for Christopher's solo. Andy had joined his parents in the audience, and all
waited expectantly for the young boy to step forward. But he didn't!
Instead, he moved slightly to one side to allow Charlie to pass him and
stand a little ahead of the front row. "Mom!" Andy whispered, "Charlie's
gonna do that solo! Do you think he can?"
"He seems to think he can." she answered. And do it he did. His voice a
little more mature than Christopher's but no less controlled, he followed
the up's and downs of the score, each phrase climbing a little higher than
the last. His chest swelled visibly as he threw his head back and filled the
cathedral with his voice, which had never been more melodious, never
clearer, never more in tune with his inner being. In Charlie's mind, this
was his triumph, the climax of all that had happened in the first thirteen
years of his life! Again he communicated with Andy as he sang. All at
once Andy knew what his brother was doing. Suddenly Andy knew that
this would be Charlie's final performance as a soprano. Why he did not
know; but Andy knew without doubt that after this performance, no one
would ever again hear Charlie's soprano voice in concert.

"Thanks, Christopher," Charlie said when the concert was over, "My little
brother."
"That was so awesome!" Christopher said with admiration.
"You're picking up my bad habits." Charlie chuckled, "Talking about
things being awesome."
"Well, it was. An' you got a couple other bad habits I wouldn't mind
picking up."
"Yeah?" Charlie grinned, "Like what? I didn't know I had any faults."
"I didn't say it was a fault," he answered, "Only that it's a bad habit. You
got this bad habit of... well, let's just say you and Paul got yourselves a bit
of a reputation."
"Christopher," Charlie said as panic set in, "Don't believe everything you
hear. And besides, you're only eight years old!"
"I know that, but I'm not always gonna be eight. I can wait; question is can
you?"

"Charlie," a voice behind him said as he emerged from the washroom, "I
thought you did wonderfully on that solo tonight." Charlie turned to look
into the face of an Asian Indian boy, about fifteen years old, whom
everyone called Yashi. That wasn't his name, but no one could get their
tongue around his real name, so he had invented the name they all used.
"Thanks, Yashi. It was just something I wanted to do once in my life."
"You really shouldn't stop at just doing it once." Yashi said, "If I could
sing like that I would never stop. I think it's terrible that you're going back
to America. They will not appreciate your voice over there and it will be
wasted."
"Not a problem," Charlie answered, "I got other things to do with my life."
"That's what I mean, Charlie. You've made a decision you will regret.
You don't have all the facts. Would you kindly come with me? I want to
show you something that I think will change your mind."
"But... it's only a few minutes till lights out."
"I promise this won't take long. You owe it to yourself to learn all the
facts, don't you?"

Charlie followed Yashi through a door and down a dark hallway. In the
subdued light he noticed how well developed the boy was. Like all the
other boys here, Yashi had a story. His was that he had been outwardly
gay, which in India is a real no-no. So when he was thirteen or so he'd
been kidnapped and castrated, destined for a prostitution ring until Guido
intervened. His voice had already started to change, but he was still a
young castrato in need of a home, so Guido had taken him in. He and three
other boys added depth to the choir with their deeper voices.

Yashi turned into a room at the far end of the hall and Charlie followed. It
was a stupid thing to do and Charlie knew it, but his guard was completely
down. As soon as he stepped through the door he was grabbed from
behind by powerful arms, which wrapped around him and restrained his
own arms. There was no light in the room, so when Yashi closed the door
it was pitch dark. "I'll be turning on the light in a few minutes," Yashi
said, "So I can get a look at what you always hide in those white boxers of
yours. But first we have to help you to enjoy yourself and relax a little."

Charlie felt two hands, one on each side, slip under the waistband of his
boxers, the only clothing he was wearing, and start to pull them down. He
struggled but he was being held too tightly. He brought his knee up,
catching Yashi in the chest and knocking him backwards. That action
earned him a punch in the kidney. "Do that again," a voice from behind
said, "And I'll break a rib or two." Charlie recognized the voice of Dimitri,
a Russian eunuch about 17 years old. Like Yashi, he had been castrated
well after puberty. Charlie didn't know the circumstances, but he knew the
guy was big and strong.

When he felt his boxers descend to the floor, Charlie stepped out of them,
reasoning that if he got the chance to fight he didn't want to be impeded by
anything around his ankles. "I knew you'd cooperate sooner or later,"
Yashi said as he began fondling Charlie, "That little brown fucker has
been monopolizing you long enough! Now you're gonna get some REAL
action!"
"Please don't." Charlie pleaded. He was biding his time, looking for an
opening, but there seemed to be none forthcoming. He shuddered as he felt
a finger poking around his anus; he gasped as it entered him forcefully.
"My, my!" Yashi exclaimed, "That's a tight little one! This is gonna be
great! I was gonna play around first but I can't wait. Let's get him into
position Dimitri."

Charlie struggled more as the two teens maneuvered him into a kneeling
position, his head between Dimitri's knees, hands held behind his back.
He straightened his knees and flopped flat on the floor, got another punch
in the kidneys. He wiggled his butt when he felt something probing there;
another punch. This was it, he thought; not exactly the way he'd pictured
losing his virginity. But he vowed to keep struggling as long as he could. If
they killed him then so be it; but he was not going to submit without
making his objections clear.

"Leave him alone, Yashi!" came Paul's voice in Italian from the doorway.
"Go away, little boy!" Yashi replied, "Before we decide to have you join
the party." Charlie wasn't picking up every word spoken, but he
understood the gist of what was being said. "Andy!" he called from
between Dimitri's legs, "Go get Andy!"
"No can do, Charlie. I couldn't find him."

The lights in the room came on. Paul had just come into the room from the
light, and now he took full advantage of everyone else's momentary
blindness and sprang. Charlie felt Dimitri's body shudder as Paul's hands
swung a wide arc into his sides, landing two vicious chops to both
kidneys. The knees opened just enough for Charlie to yank his head out
from between them, and he was on his feet. He swung around and clapped
his hands together, except that Yashi's ears were between them. Yashi
stumbled and fell. He had been trying to stand from his kneeling position
when Charlie hit him, and the blow had knocked him off balance. Charlie
looked around just in time to see Paul land a kick to Dimitri's mid section,
then a sharp jab to his throat, and he went down. "C'mon!" he said, "Grab
your boxers and let's get outa here!" Charlie obeyed. He had wanted to
stay and really give it to these guys, but he realized that once the element
of surprise was gone they might not fare so well. "You were awesome!" he
said to Paul as he put on his boxers in the hall, "Where'd you learn to fight
like that?"
"When ya live in a country that's having one revolution after another,"
Paul answered, "You learn to defend yourself, or you die!"

The bus trip to Rome was great for forty energetic boys, but hell for the
driver. There were the typical yells and screams, noisy games, throwing a
ball back and forth, even the odd minor altercation. Guido made good use
of Andy in trying to keep order and holding the noise level to a dull roar so
the bus driver wouldn't go totally insane. They didn't arrive until 5:30 PM;
with the concert scheduled for 8, there was no time for anything but a very
light lunch, then it was time to shower and dress for the concert. Guido
always insisted on a half hour warm-up before every concert, which of
course tightened the schedule even more.

Andy and Charlie had hoped to see their parents in Rome, but that just
didn't happen. The concert was in one of the largest cathedrals the two
wide-eyed boys had ever seen, then they were whisked off to bed. The cots
were a little bigger here, so Paul curled up with Charlie and Christopher
with Andy. Charlie and Paul were on the receiving end of a few cat calls
and good natured ribbing, all suggesting that they might want to give it a
rest at least for the duration of the tour. They just smiled and embraced,
neither having any intention of doing anything but sleeping. Tomorrow
they would go to Florence, then Bologna, then Milan. By the time they got
back to the school Saturday afternoon, everyone was exhausted. But they
had had a very successful tour, raising more than enough money to sustain
the school for another year. Guido was so pleased that he threw a party in
the school gym Saturday night. Charlie would have preferred to spend the
evening with his family, but Guido had said that it would be a combination
celebration and good-bye party for their "American friends."

"I have a special surprise for the best choir in Italy." Guido announced in
Italian. Charlie was starting to realize just how much of the day to day
conversations were in Italian, and how much of it he was understanding.
But Guido went on. "As you all know, Charlie will be leaving for home
early in the morning. We will all miss you, Charlie." General applause, a
few comments. Charlie shot a glance toward Yashi and Dimitri. They had
not reacted. Paul had warned him that they would be looking for revenge,
but time was running short for them. But still Guido was not done
speaking.

"What you did not know," he went on, "Was that Charlie will not be
leaving alone. He and his family will be taking Paul and Christopher with
them." Now the boys really applauded and whistled, shouted and cheered.
Andy almost fainted! Not knowing what else to do, he threw his arms
around Charlie, then Christopher, then Paul. "He did it!" he shouted, "Our
dad did it!"
"Did you have any doubt?" Charlie grinned back.

Dennis and Karen appeared. Guido whispered to them a few moments,
then raised his hand for quiet. "The Conner family," he began, "Charlie's
parents and brother, have consented to give us a sample of the southern
American gospel singing that Charlie loves so well. It is very different
from the music that we do, and I think you will enjoy it. This is the type of
music that Charlie sings back home."

"Andy!" Charlie said, "Did you know about this?"
"Not exactly. We talked about it, but I didn't know it had been finalized."
"But we haven't practiced! We have no instruments but a piano, and we
have no bass!"
"What do you suppose I sing, soprano?" Dennis said.
"You, Dad? YOU?"
"Put your mind at ease, little man, your daddy can sing."

And so they sang. And sang. And sang some more. The choir members all
loved it and kept demanding more and more. On the upbeat numbers they
all clapped in time with the music. Charlie's doubts about his father's
singing were completely unfounded. He had obviously been studying,
listening, watching the old gospel group very carefully and knew the bass
parts thoroughly. Charlie loved singing with his dad. Yes, he'd heard him
sing in church, but for reasons he couldn't understand, he'd never thought
of his dad as a performer.

By the time they were finished it was very late, so it was decided that the
four boys would go back to the hotel with their parents tonight, rather than
having to get gathered up in the morning. They had to be on the road to
Rome no later than 6 AM to catch their flight. It took only a few minutes
to pack all Paul's and Christopher's belongings, they didn't have that
much; about six changes of clothes and underwear, a few electronic games
and other small toys, their school books. Charlie and Andy both thought of
their rooms back home, full to overflowing with all their things, some of
which they hardly ever touched. "And I thought we were poor!" Charlie
said to Andy.
"Believe me, lil bro," Andy answered, "You don't even know the meaning
of the word!"

Guido came to the hotel as they were getting ready to leave. He thanked
them for coming; he thanked Andy for his help on the tour; he thanked
them for giving two boys that he obviously loved a home; he thanked
Charlie for the month he'd spent with the choir. "I enjoyed it, Signore
Guido." Charlie said in Italian, "Thank you for having me."
"Remember," Guido scolded, "It is impolite to speak a language that all
present do not understand." Of course he said it in Italian, while Paul
translated everything.

"We would love to have you back in the fall," Guido said, "To participate
in our Christmas program. Should we begin making plans now?"
"I... I'd love to come," Charlie said, "But I'm afraid that won't be possible.
I suspect the harvest will run well into November this year if we get
planted all we're planning, and I simply won't have time to take a month
or more off."
"Charlie," Karen said, "Guido has been awfully good to you. I think you
owe him the truth, don't you?"

Charlie agreed, so he told him everything. All that he'd told his parents,
why he didn't feel a part of the group despite their efforts to make him
welcome. He didn't share the attempted rape; that was a secret between
him and Paul. Some of the other boys probably suspected, but no one
knew. There was simply no point in distressing Guido, no harm had been
done, so they kept their silence. Guido took Charlie's talk well and
promised to try to deal with what Charlie saw as a problem, but he
accepted the fact that Charlie would probably never again live with the
choir as a full member. He did however insist that he be allowed to see all
four boys when he was in America, to which they all agreed readily.

The flight across the Atlantic was nothing short of, well, as Charlie would
say, AWESOME! Again they were in first class, in another 747, complete
with spiral staircase up to the upper deck. Karen spent a lot of time with
her new sons, getting to know them; going over their school work and
trying to place their grade levels. As soon as they got home she would
have to get them started in the home school program, and she had to know
what materials to order. She found that their years in Guido's school had
done them very well. She was delighted to learn that they both appeared to
be quite bright, and very motivated.

Paul got on Charlie's case, wondering if they could spend some time
giving him singing lessons. It was a long flight, and Paul was anxious to
get started on the venture that Charlie had assured him would be
successful. The flight attendant overheard them as she went about the
cabin serving drinks and snacks. "Did you know there's a piano upstairs?"
she offered.
"A piano?" Charlie questioned, "A real piano?"
"Well," she said, "Not exactly. It's an electronic piano, but I've been told
by those who play it that it's a good one."
"Totally awesome!" Charlie exclaimed, "It'll do for what we want. May
we play it?"

All four boys scrambled up the stairs. There was no one there except one
middle aged man drinking himself to oblivion and the steward who was
serving him. Charlie sat down at the keyboard and was pleasantly
surprised at its capabilities. One gadget he noticed almost immediately was
a pitch bender. He'd never used one, though the concept was not new to
him. As he played with it, Andy got an idea.

"Charlie," Andy said excitedly. "What if we, like, use that thing to help
Paul? I mean, you strike a note, then you "bend" it off pitch, then slowly
slide it back to pitch. Then you get Paul to do the same thing with his
voice. Maybe it'll help his brain to hear the difference."
"Andy," Karen said as she came up from the lower deck, "You might just
have something there!"

Charlie struck a chord, then sang the same note. While holding the note
constant with his voice, he lowered the pitch on the keyboard. Paul
listened intently. Charlie brought the pitch bender back to pitch, then slid it
slowly higher, then back again, then lower, then back. "Now Paul," Karen
instructed, "Listen carefully while Charlie varies the pitch. Tell us when it
is sounding the same note as he is singing."

Paul listened. He threw up his hand and nodded. It had been a guess; a
wrong one! Karen told him again to listen; REALLY listen. They did it
again, and again. Charlie played a chord and held it, while singing the root
tone of the chord. He varied the pitch of his voice so he was in total
dischord. Paul heard it. "That sounds terrible!" he exclaimed.
"Now you're getting it!" Karen said excitedly, "You're right, it sounds
terrible. Slide back to pitch, Charlie."
Charlie did. He slid up, still holding the same chord on the keyboard. Two
hours later they were still at it, trying different variations of bending first
the piano, they their voices. Suddenly Paul screwed up his face in disgust.
Charlie slid back down until he was in perfect harmony. "I can hear it!"
Paul exclaimed. Tears flooded from his eyes. "I can hear it! It sounds so
good! It's right! It really rings when it's right, just like Signore Guido
always said!"

Karen reached to give Paul a hug, but she had to get in line because Andy
got there first. "It's a start, Paul." Karen said, "Your brain has lived for
almost twelve years without knowing or caring anything about music, and
it's gonna take some time for it to adjust. But you've just proved that you
can do it."
"I can't believe how easy it was!" Paul said as his tears flowed freely.
"It was only easy" Charlie said, "Cause my bro... er, OUR brother was
here and had that idea. Paul, as time goes by you're gonna learn that Andy
is totally, absolutely, completely AWESOME!"
Paul would have answered, but he couldn't! He totally broke down as he
thought of four years trying to sing, and now he knew he could! He could
sing! He had learned to sing five miles above the Atlantic ocean!

When they all went downstairs for a rest, Karen suddenly remembered the
tour. "Charlie," she said, "What was that solo all about in Naples? You did
a beautiful job on it, but that was Christopher's solo. Why did you do it?"
"Because I wanted you to hear it one more time." Charlie said, "I wanted
you to remember it. I wanted you to know how much I appreciate all the
work you've done with me."
"One more time?"
"Mom, as soon as we get home you're gonna take Paul and Christopher to
Doctor Lear for a checkup, right?"
"I guess you know me pretty well, Charlie. Yes, of course I am."
"I'm goin' with y'all. I'm gonna ask Dr. Lear to start me on hormones. It's
gonna make my voice change and I know it, but it's something I gotta do.
And besides, I've figured out that it's gonna change anyway. It won't be a
boy's voice, it'll be a woman's, and I don't want a woman's voice!"

Karen eyed her son suspiciously. "Well," she said, "There are a lot of
people who can think of a lot of things to say about you, but no one can
ever say you're not full of surprises. May I ask why?"
"Yeah," Andy said as he tried to recover from the shock, "Why?"
"I dunno exactly, but it's something I gotta do. Maybe I just realized that I
can't stay a little boy forever, so I might as well face growing up and get
on with it."
"It has to do with that choir, doesn't it?" Andy suggested.
"I guess in a way it does. I don't hate those guys or anything like that, but I
don't want to be like them. I don't want my life to revolve around the parts
I don't even have any more. I want to be normal, and there's no way a man
with a soprano voice can be normal. I'm sorry, Andy. I know you said you
like me the way I am, but I gotta do this. You are gonna let me, aren't you
Mom?"
"Charlie," Karen laughed, "I think Andy would still love you if you were
covered with a thick mat of hair and had foot long fangs! If you haven't
scared him off so far I doubt that anything's gonna drive him off. Of
course I'll let you take them, if that's what you want."

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