Date: Sat, 30 Oct 1999 01:59:39 -0400 From: Charlie Subject: Andy-14 (Young-Friends) XIV Charlie's Performance Friday morning, and Charlie was ready to go home. He had called at 7 am to make sure they'd be coming for him. "Bring me that pair of white shorts," he instructed, "That cool red shirt I like, an' a pair of white boxers. Oh, and NO DIAPER!" He was happy and excited about the prospect of going home, and about the fact that he had awakened this morning, naked except for the hospital Johnny shirt, and still dry. Of course he still had the catheter in, but he at least got to feel what it was like waking up with no diaper on and still dry. The doctor had instructed him to take it easy, not to lift anything more than a quart of milk for a week or two. Karen had laughed when he said he had clearance to sing tomorrow night. "It's obvious," she commented, "The doctor has never seen the energy he puts into his singing." "Good morning, young man!" a pleasant well dressed man said as Charlie was finishing his breakfast. His catheter had been removed, a less than pleasant experience, but it was gone now, time to get on with life. "Good morning." Charlie returned cheerfully. "I am Dr. Melville... er...." he checked the clipboard in his hand... "Charlie? Is that right?" "Yes sir." "Charlie or Charles?" "Charlie." "Ok Charlie, I'd like to talk with you a while. We're gonna become good friends, because I've been assigned as your counselor while you're in hospital." "That won't give us much time," Charlie said as he arranged the remains of his tray, "Cause I'm going home today." "Yes, so I understand. But you'll be back, right?" "Yes sir, I'll be back Monday but only for the day." Undaunted, Dr. Melville opened the pad on his clipboard and forged ahead. "I understand you had a pretty traumatic operation yesterday." "It wasn't too bad." "What do you think of it?" "It's ok." "What does your mother think?" "I dunno. I guess they hate it happened." "You think maybe she thinks of you as something other than a boy now?" "I dunno. Maybe." "What about your father? What does he think about never having grandchildren?" "He can still have grandchildren. I've got a brother." "He's adopted, right?" "Yes sir." "Then that's not the same, is it?" "I dunno why not. What's the difference?" "Don't you know? Why don't you tell me the difference?" "I already told you, I don't know." The more the doctor pressed, the more nervous and defensive Charlie became. Dr. Melville was scribbling like mad on his clipboard, just out of Charlie's vision range. The more evasive Charlie became, the more he wrote. And the more he pressed. When the family got to the hospital, they were shocked at what they found. Charlie was still in bed and made no move to get up when he saw his family. He had been crying, a lot judging from the condition of his face. "Hiya Champ!" Dennis said cheerfully, trying to ignore what he'd seen. "Hey Dad." came a listless response. He acknowledged his mother and brother, but just barely. "Charlie," Karen said, "What's wrong?" "Nuthin'" he answered, "Can we please just get outa here?" "What happened?" Andy demanded as he helped Charlie out of bed, "You were in such good spirits earlier." "Andy," Charlie cried as he threw his arms around him, "Please Andy, don't go! PLEASE don't go!" "Go? I'm not going anywhere, I already told you that." "But... but Dr. Melville said... said... that they would probably take you back when they found out..." "Found out what?" Dennis demanded, "And who is Dr. Melville?" Charlie was trembling and sobbing so hard he could hardly speak. "He... he's a psy... uhh... a shrink, Dad. He came in this morning to see me. He asked me all sorts of questions about how I felt about my operation, and when I told him I was ok with it he said that was stupid, that I couldn't possibly be ok with it. He said Dr. Fisher had said something about how Garth used to kick me and punch me there so he wanted to hear about that. Then he asked how often you and Mom beat me. He asked how long you had been MAKING me work on the farm, and how long Mom had been MAKING me sing. He turned everything all around, Dad! Then when he found out that Andy's adoption isn't final he said he was gonna do what he could to get it stopped, 'cause he didn't want another abused child in the hospital. Geeez, Dad, I've messed up so bad!" "You haven't messed up." Dennis assured him, "I know you told the truth, and we have nothing to fear from the truth. But who authorized that guy to come in here anyway?" "I dunno Dad. He just said it was standard procedure in cases like this." "Well, we'll see about that!" Dennis snarled as he pushed the call button. When the friendly voice of a nurse came over the intercom, Dennis said in an even, but obviously upset voice, "We need to see Dr. Melville now!" "I'm afraid he's gone." said the voice back to him. "Get him back here! If he doesn't see us this morning, he'll be seeing our attorney this afternoon. Ask him if he's ever heard of Evan Turnbull." The good doctor magically appeared just as Charlie was finished getting dressed. After introductions were hastily done, Dennis got right to the point. "May I ask what you were doing interviewing my son, without my knowledge?" "It's standard procedure, Mr. Conner. The boy has had a very traumatic experience and we..." "If you're talking about Charlie, 'THE BOY' has a name! Why is it you so- called professionals can't remember people's names? We spoke to him by phone only this morning and he was fine. Then when we arrived we found him devastated. What have you done?" "All I've done," the doctor answered defiantly, "Is to help him deal with a lot of feelings and bring them out into the open where we can help him with them." "You twisted everything I said!" Charlie interjected. Dr. Melville ignored him. "I want to see your notes." Dennis said. "I expect you do. If I had as much to hide as you appear to, I wouldn't want my children talking to professionals either. I'm still trying to decide if I have enough information to go to Social Services, but it seems to me the sooner I get those boys away from you, the better." "Karen, call Evan." Dennis said as he grasped Charlie's bed with both hands, the only way he could keep from using those hands to do something really stupid. "That's not a very good idea." Dr. Melville stated, "It seems almost like a challenge." "It's not a challenge, Dr. Melville, it's merely a poor ignorant farmer doing what he can to defend himself and his loved ones against the system." "He's on the line." Karen said. "Ask him if he can get his tail over here right away. Tell him we've got an over jealous shrink here who's trying to break up our family. Tell him not to worry about his fee, that I'll pay it somehow." Evan didn't come to the hospital - he didn't have to. He spoke to Dr. Melville, and Dr. Fisher who had shown up to discharge Charlie. He told them that he would, if necessary, get a court order to see any and all records and reports related to Charlie. Their alternative, he said, was for them to turn over the reports voluntarily. They backed off, agreeing to at least talk the whole thing over without doing anything drastic. Evan also informed them that if Charlie were consulted again by any kind of a shrink without his parents' permission, they would find themselves in a law suit. "Man, Dad!" Charlie exclaimed when they were finally in the car, "You were so awesome! I think Dr. Melville was afraid you were gonna deck him." "I came really close, son." Dennis answered, "But that would've got us all in a lot of trouble." "Just the same, I hope I get so I can handle people like that some day." "You will," Andy put in, "Ya don't do all that bad now!" "We have to be a little careful," Dennis reminded them, "Remember Charlie has a year's worth of visits to that hospital, and we don't want them hating us." "John wouldn't do that." Charlie said, "He's really cool." "John? John who?" "John Petrie. Doctor John Petrie. He's a resident and he's gonna be my doctor during the treatments. He's really nice, Dad." * * * "Doctor Fisher, may I see you for a moment, in your office?" It was John Petrie. He had just come on duty and had been going over the details of Charlie's charts. Like all residents, he often didn't get the time to peruse charts when he should, so he was seeing some of the detail lab reports for the first time. "You look really serious, Dr. Petrie." Fisher said to him, "What is it?" "I've just been looking over the Conner boy's charts. I think there's something you should see." "Pretty straightforward case. He's a little young, but hopefully we caught it in time." "Look right here, on this lab report." Dr. Fisher glanced at the report being held before him, then took a closer look. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed, "This can't be right!" "It's right, doctor. I've double checked." "Have you told him, or his family?" "No, he was discharged this morning. He'll be back Monday to start his chemo." "Oh yeah, that's right. Well, don't say anything to them just yet. I'll have to figure out how to tell them. I'll handle it, ok?" "Fine with me, doctor. That's not the sort of thing I'm very good at anyway." "Well my young resident, you'd better get good at it, because shit happens." Dr. Fisher sat in his office, thinking about what he'd just seen in Charlie's lab reports. "Damn!" he exclaimed aloud, "Why me? Why do I have to be the kid's doctor? Of all times, this had to happen to a kid! How am I ever gonna tell them?" He picked up the phone and asked for the administrator, then said never mind and put the phone down again. * * * Charlie had what he would have called an awesome weekend. Saturday he just puttered around the farm, all his responsibilities having been given to someone else. The gospel band dropped by just after noon to check on him and ask if he was up for the concert. "Of course I am!" he exclaimed, "Why wouldn't I be?" He was having no pain at all, and wasn't wearing diapers, nor was he having accidents! In his mind, it was already worth what he'd been through. Saturday night, sharply at 8, the curtain rose to a very turned-on band and quartet. The very first number Wade, the bass, would start with a solo, picked up in the second verse by Charlie. He had never sung more sweetly, never with more volume or authority! He topped the high's with confidence, descended to the low's with a depth he had never before felt. Number after number he thrilled the audience, his fellow musicians, even himself. Oddly enough he had never noticed before, but he had at least a small solo part in just about every number they sang. And each moved all who heard. They were to sing a new arrangement of the old favorite, "Rock of Ages." They sang the first verse as a quartet, in harmony. Wade took the second verse, his low, tranquil voice thrilling Charlie as usual. Charlie admired Wade's voice, its low bass texture, its richness, the ease with which it descended to notes so low they were almost like a growl. Now it seemed even more enthralling to him because he knew his voice would never be like it. As Wade sang, Charlie watched him intently, the admiration on his face plain for all to see. Then it was the third verse, Charlie's solo. Karen sat at the piano, absolutely dreading the third verse that Charlie would be singing only seconds from now. When he heard the words he was singing, he'd be devastated! Why had she been so thorough in her teaching? Why had she insisted that he think of the words as he sang? Anyone can get up and make a noise, she'd said. Anyone can mouth words, or they can be formed by computer, she'd said. But, she'd told him over and over, the human voice, together with facial expression, body English of someone who understands the words he's singing, believes them and wants to communicate, now THAT's singing! She had drilled him since he was six years old. Feel the song, she'd said. Get into it! Don't ever sing a note unless you are singing from your heart! And now those same words were about to destroy him! Wade was singing his final notes, and Charlie had turned to face the audience. Karen played a few notes of introduction, and Charlie began to sing. Charlie loved this number! They had never performed it before, but for the past month Charlie had insisted that they sing it at least once during every practice. He liked the arrangement; he loved his solo part, and even more, Wade's before his. Now he was performing it before an audience; a very large audience! While I draw this fleeting breath... When my eyes shall close in death... Karen saw the look of shock on Charlie's face. He'd done exactly as she'd trained him to do: think of the words! She tried frantically to think of some way musically to add some extra piano interlude, because she knew he would pause now, if indeed he could sing at all. "When my eyes shall close in death" The words hit Charlie full in the chest like a locomotive! His inner voice whispered to him "You're gonna die, Charlie! You're dying right now, while you're singing! You're a goner, Charlie! You thought you'd never experience a change in your voice. Shoot, you're never gonna experience anything! You're dead meat!" He had in a split second realized what he was singing. It jolted him to his toes; but then he heard another voice. This was Charlie too, but a different Charlie. His mind was whizzing, and it seemed to him almost like a cartoon with good and evil consciousnesses fighting for control. Charlie II said "Yes, Charlie, you're gonna die. Everyone has to die. You may very well die soon. But isn't that all the more reason to accomplish why you're here in the time you have left? You have a gift, Charlie! Use it while you can! Don't waste it! And what's so bad about death anyway? Do you believe all you've been taught, or don't you? Do you believe all that stuff about no more pain, no more sickness? If you believe it, SHOW IT! Show that you're not afraid to die! Make a difference, Charlie! You know that everyone watching you right now knows you have cancer. SHOW THEM THAT IT'LL TAKE A LOT MORE THAN CANCER TO CONQUER CHARLIE CONNER!" All of this happened in the fraction of a second between the word "DEATH" and the next line to the song. But it was enough; Charlie knew what he had to do. Karen had taught him that too! That he should communicate his faith, his comfort level. So he sang on: When I rise to worlds unknown.... "You know what that means," Charlie I said, "After you die you will be in the great unknown! Will it be dark? Cold? Hot? Will there be anyone there you know? What will you look like? Will you remember your life here on earth? Will your folks remember you? Or will you just be lost in a giant sea of nothingness? Or maybe everything just ends." Charlie II countered: "WOW! You know what that means? You know where that line is talking about, don't you? We have all sorts of imagined pictures of Heaven, but they are just that: our imagination. But when you cross over, you're gonna SEE it! AWESOME!" Charlie's eyes brightened, his voice became a little clearer, a little brighter. As he sang about rising to worlds unknown, his voice rose to heights unknown. Everyone in the audience heard it. No one could describe it nor identify what had happened, but everyone felt it. And behold thee on thy throne... No comment from Charlie I. Charlie II just said "AWESOME!" Rock of ages, cleft for me... Let me hide myself in thee... Andy sat in the audience, next to his father as usual; but this was different from anything he had ever experienced here or anywhere else in his life! He couldn't identify it, didn't even know what was different. But he watched in total awe as he watched his little brother on the stage go through a short period of turmoil, followed by a peace so intense that Andy could feel it. At that moment he knew, absolutely knew, that he and Charlie would be together always. They might not be in the same house, the same town, the same country! One of them might die and the other live; one might marry and move away! But regardless of their future, Andy knew that their souls would never be parted just as surely as he knew they never had been parted since they'd first met. Unconsciously his hand reached for his father's, and when they touched, there was a peace, a calmness pass between them that simply could not be described; but it was unmistakably real. Charlie's solo was over... well officially. The next verse was the whole quartet repeating the chorus in harmony; but that high soprano voice, singing tenor two octaves above the others, dominated. Ordinarily domination by one voice is not a good thing; but in this case the glow on the face of its owner, the expression of inner peace that could be heard in every note, inspired the others. Karen saw it, and so did Andy, and so did Dennis. They all knew that Charlie, in that brief moment between lines of his solo, had faced death, had dealt with it, understood it, and was ready. Everyone in that theater knew that no matter if Charlie's future was life or death, there would be no contest; Charlie had already triumphed! They had been working on a new technique where each member of the quartet sang a part of each selection. Charlie and Wade, the bass, often sang together, two and sometimes three octaves apart. It had been working well, but nothing like tonight. It seemed they could do nothing wrong, and as the concert progressed they just got better and better. Charlie and Wade had over the past few months become closer, each admiring the other's talents and range. Charlie couldn't even come close to reaching to the depths that Wade could, nor could Wade come near Charlie's high's. But each knew that together there were few if any written notes that they couldn't hit. On two different occasions Wade totally lost any thought of stage protocol and grabbed Charlie and hugged him. Andy's initial reaction was jealousy; but then he realized that he couldn't possibly keep Charlie all to himself, he had to be shared! After the final curtain went down, after seven encores, a tearful Charlie flew into Karen's waiting arms. "That was so awesome!" he said, "We were good, weren't we?" "YOU were awesome!" she whispered to her son, "I've never heard you sing better! I've never SEEN you sing better!" She was fighting hard to keep the tears at bay, and somehow she managed. She wondered what was in store for him. But right now it didn't matter. Most important, she knew that whatever he faced in the future, he was prepared. When Andy appeared backstage, he and Charlie stood and looked at each other. Then without warning they both dissolved in tears as they embraced. There were no words between them; there was no need. They both knew that Charlie had exceeded every expectation, every dream of his fellow singers, the instrumentalists, his mother, even himself! But even more important, he had communicated to his brother that it was ok. No matter what, it was ok! "Charlie," Andy finally whispered when he could find his voice, "I dunno what to say! That was just so... so..." He didn't finish. There were simply no words to express what he was feeling. So he settled for the hugs, the tears, the absolute love that passed between them. Sunday was no less incredible. The morning church service was much as one expects, except that Charlie was at the organ instead of his mother while she accompanied a guest soloist at the piano. Andy thought as Charlie took his position at the console, "He's so tiny! That console looks as if it's eaten him alive!" But when the organ started to play, it was soon obvious who had eaten whom! Each hymn, each introduction, each stage of the service was Charlie's conquest, his triumph. Each verse of every hymn was modulated to a higher chord. It was if his fingers were not his own as he commanded that instrument to do his every bidding. And if the quality of the music were not sufficient, there was the look on his face! There was a glow, an aura, that defied description, could not be explained. Andy didn't hear much of what was spoken at that church service. His mind was far beyond information overload as he reviewed the past week, the concert, Charlie's obvious transformation. He was no stranger to the concept of faith, but he'd never seen it first-hand the way he'd seen it this week. "And a little child shall lead them..." he thought over and over. He believed that passage now because he'd seen it for himself. His little buddy, his new brother Charlie was so incredibly at peace! Tomorrow he would submit himself to injections that he knew would make him deathly sick, but still there was a constant smile on his face. He was concerned more for Andy's comfort, his eternal well-being than he was for what he was facing. Andy was not a slow learner; he learned and acted. He set about to gain the sort of faith he'd seen at work. * * * If you wish to comment on this story, please send your comments to me at charlieje@mindspring.com