Date: Wed, 20 Dec 2000 17:50:00 -0500 From: Charlie Subject: Andy-revised-24 The following story is total fiction. Any relationship to persons living or dead is purely accidental. This story depicts sexual acts between people of the same sex (male), some of whom are under age. If you find this concept distasteful, or if it is illegal where you live, or if you are underage, please stop reading now. XXIV Charlie in Italy The first thing Charlie noticed, after he had managed to tear his eyes away from the deep brown eyes that had seized his and locked on, was how incredibly handsome Paul was. Like Charlie had been, Paul was small for his age. His skin was a deep copper color, his hair a silky black and long enough to barely touch his shoulders. He was wearing red shorts, rather on the tight side, and a white muscle shirt. His body was incredibly developed for his age. His face was very slightly oriental in appearance, but not so much so that he could be considered Chinese or Japanese. The eyes were nothing short of captivating; but there was a sadness there; an emptiness that cried to be filled. "The bed next to mine is empty," Paul offered, "if you haven't already got one." "I'd like that," Charlie heard himself saying. "Great! We have to change for dinner now, do you want a shower first?" "I probably should, I've been traveling all day. Is there time?" Charlie found himself in the shower alone, since all the rest of the residents had already had their shower. He got the distinct feeling that they were waiting for him, so he hurried through his shower and then rushed back to the dorm where he found everyone already dressed for dinner. They were all wearing a clean school uniform: black pants, white shirt, red tie. Neatly laid out on his bed was one for Charlie. As he dressed, Charlie thought he could feel several sets of eyes including Paul's watching him, but he ignored the feeling and hurried to get dressed. Soon he was ready and they all trouped to the cafeteria. It seemed to be a given that he and Paul would sit together. They didn't discuss it, but neither boy, nor anyone else for that matter, seemed to question that Charlie and Paul had already become friends. Charlie wondered about it but he didn't mind really... Paul was easy to like, and looking at him was certainly no chore. As soon as they were seated with a great meal in front of them, the other members of the dorm started stopping by. They would welcome him, offer him words of encouragement, then go back to their seats. Some of the boys from the other dorm, as old as their twenties, also dropped by. Charlie was very quickly starting to feel at home in this place. And then the questions started. Paul, it seemed, had to know all there is to know about Charlie. What was it like, living in America? How big was their farm? What did they raise? Did they have a tractor? Did Charlie have any brothers or sisters? What did they do in their spare time? How hot did it get in summer? How cold in winter? On and on it went until finally Paul asked the big one: How had he come to be a castrato? "It was kinda an accident," Charlie answered. "I had a lot of pain and so they thought I had cancer. Then after it was over they found that they had made a mistake. How about you? How did you..." Paul's cheery face turned dark. "It was the revolution," he answered. "We had a big sugar plantation. We were quite rich and the rebels didn't like that. They thought if you were rich than you were the enemy. They killed my mom and dad and sister, then they castrated me. Most boys bled to death 'cause they didn't even try to stop the bleeding, but some of our hired hands got to me in time and helped me. Sometimes I wish they hadn't." "I'm real sorry, Paul," Charlie said, "That really sucks! So how did you get here?" "Signore Guido. He has people all over the world looking for homeless eunuchs like me. There's nothing for me back home now so I agreed to come back with him. Sometimes I wish I hadn't." Charlie could see the sadness in Paul's eyes, and resolved then and there to remove it. They were such beautiful eyes, they had no business being sad. He could not even imagine the fear, the anguish this kid must have gone through, watching his family die and then enduring the pain as rough, dirty men cut his boyhood from him. "It's ok now," he said, "you're safe. And I know Signore Guido will make it right for you. He'll help you make a new life." "But you don't understand," Paul said, "I can't sing. As much as I try, I can't seem to learn to carry a tune. I know the theory, I can even play the piano as long as the music is in front of me, but I can't sing." "That's in your mind," Charlie answered. "That might be, but as much as I try I can't seem to make my mind think musically. I just can't sing!" "I bet my mom could teach you," Charlie said, and then wished he hadn't said it. Paul didn't answer. He knew of a loving family, but his was gone. He was familiar with the miracles that could be wrought through love, but that was lost to him. And Charlie knew just by looking into those deep brown liquid eyes what he was thinking. The boys were an hour later than usual going to bed, due largely to Charlie's late arrival. So as soon as dinner was over and they'd had their recreation time, they were ordered directly back to the dorm and bed. They barely had enough time to get their clothes off and hang them up when the lights went out, and all the boys got into bed and settled down. Charlie was tired; so tired that he was dropping off to sleep almost as soon as the lights went out. But then he felt his bed jostle slightly and lifted his head to see the slight form of Paul, dressed only in his briefs, crawling in with him. "If I'm here with you," Paul whispered, "the others will leave you alone. Otherwise they'll try to initiate you, and I don't think you'd like what they do." "I'm not sure I understand," Charlie said, although he really didn't mind his new bed partner. "Sure you do!" Paul said. "Think about it!" "Jeez, Paul! You mean they... uhhh..." "No, they won't hurt ya, but I just don't think you'd like it very much. I mean, they kinda... well... embarrass you, ya know?" "I guess so. Ok, thanks, Paul. I mean, thanks for warning me." "You're welcome, Charlie." Ok, Charlie thought, That explains why Paul is here in my bed. It even explains why he is holding me so tight, snuggled up just as tight as I get to Andy, considering all that he's been through. But his hands! How do I explain what his hands are doing, roaming all over my body? And how do I explain how absolutely great it feels? And how do I tell Andy about my own hands, and how wonderful Paul's body feels as I touch his silky smooth back, his little round butt... his... his... And that feeling I got when we met! How do I explain that? What does it mean anyway? "Charlie," Paul whispered suddenly, "you still got your... uh..." "My scrotum?" Charlie offered, realizing where Paul's hand was. "Yeah, I do. The doctor just cut a little slit in it and took my nuts out. But yours is completely gone! They musta..." "Yeah they did. They just cut the whole thing off. That's why so many kids bled to death." "It must've hurt awful bad! It musta been terrible!" "Not really, I passed out soon as they started to cut. I didn't wake up till some time the next day when the field crew had me all stitched up." "What happened to them?" "They got caught and killed. But before they did they hid me under a big stack of straw." "Man!" Charlie exclaimed, "and I thought I'd been through a lot!" The two boys grew quiet. Charlie suspected that Paul was crying softly, but he made no outward sign. So Charlie just held him as he got more and more angry at what had been done to his new friend. His hands were still caressing Paul softly, exploring every square inch of that part of him that had been so brutally violated. "I'm gonna make it up to you," he whispered. "You're gonna be ok, little Paul." He thought of Andy and how he had mothered Charlie when he first came to the farm. In Charlie's mind, it was now his turn. Now he, Charlie, the little brother, was needed! Now he could pay back indirectly what Andy had given to him. As Charlie lay there awake, Paul sleeping in his arms, he saw, or more accurately sensed, bodies moving about in the dark. He heard sounds.... unmistakable sounds of intimate behavior. He suspected he knew what was going on, but they weren't bothering him or Paul so for the most part he ignored it. But still, he wondered. Thursday morning was a bit of a nightmare for Charlie. He was given his class assignments, and spent the entire day sitting and listening to teachers and his fellow students speaking in Italian. He first thought it would be cool to learn another language, but it was certainly boring for him just sitting there, not knowing what in the world was going on. When classes were finally over and it was time for choir rehearsal, he breathed a sigh of relief. But even that rehearsal had a few surprises for him that he hadn't counted on. * * * Andy had finished his week's school work by Wednesday morning, so he spent an extra two hours plowing more land. Dennis had closed the deal on another three hundred acres, none of which had been farmed for over five years. Some of the fields, the ones he was plowing now, weren't too bad; but the vast majority of the old farm was quite overgrown with bushes and small trees, and would have to be mowed with a bush hog before it could be plowed. As he opened the throttle on the new John Deere he was again thrilled at the power he had at his fingertips. He was also thrilled at how much he'd learned about farming. Not much over a year ago he hadn't even known what a bush hog was, and now he was deciding when it was needed and when not. Tomorrow morning, Thursday, the Conner's were all leaving for Florida. All, that is, except for Charlie who was in Italy and Billy who was still not back from Texas. Andy thought a lot about destiny and wondered, what exactly was Charlie's destiny? Dennis had made it quite clear that it included music in one form or another; but Charlie seemed so happy right here on the farm! How long would it be, he wondered, before his little brother's eyes would be so dazzled by all he'd heard, all he'd seen, that he would no longer have time for the simple hard working life of a farmer? Andy couldn't imagine a life any better than he had right how, but at the same time he knew he would follow Charlie to the ends of the earth if necessary. As he thought about these things, he realized that since that first night when he and Charlie had made love, he had never masturbated! Sex just for the sake of sex had lost all meaning, had nothing to offer him. He realized that he was totally devoted to Charlie. Did Charlie feel the same? What if he met someone in Italy? He was such an emotional little guy, Andy knew deep down that Charlie would have a great deal of difficulty controlling his actions if he was attracted to someone. So he resolved to prepare himself for the possibility that sooner or later he wouldn't be the only one in Charlie's life. How would he react? Would he be able to live with a development like that? He honestly didn't know. But he knew that he would certainly try. Another thing Andy thought about a lot was Billy. Charlie had made it very clear before he left that Andy and Billy were free to play around in his absence if they were so inclined. "He's really like our brother in many ways." Charlie had said. Andy was indeed so inclined! But was Billy? Andy actually felt guilty being so strongly attracted to Billy, but there was no escaping that attraction. Andy was astonished at how quickly he'd finished plowing the field he was working on. When he looked at his watch, it was already 4 PM, time to head for home. Tomorrow they would drive most of the day. He didn't particularly want to, but he knew once they got there they would all have a good time. He didn't feel comfortable about that either. Shouldn't they be missing Charlie so much that it was impossible for them to enjoy themselves? And so the thought process went. When he wasn't missing Charlie he was wishing he did. Or he was missing Billy and wishing he didn't. * * * Charlie had been in Italy three weeks. He had to admit it had certainly been an experience. On his first choir rehearsal he had been issued the traditional attire of the castrati choir: a black ankle length robe with a wide red sash. This was what castrati wore while in training over 250 years ago! The choir wore these robes for all performances, all official public appearances. On one hand Charlie was thrilled to wear his robe in public; on the other hand it set him apart a little more than he was comfortable with. But he was determined to make this visit work, even though he was becoming more and more convinced that this was far from the life that he wanted for himself. Guido had worked with him tirelessly, showing him exercises that would extend his range, enhance his vocal tones, improve his control; but there was always that overhanging shadow; the shadow that said he was different, that without his voice he was nothing. Charlie didn't believe that! It might be true for most of the boys who didn't have a loving family, but even that was somewhat doubtful to Charlie. He wondered about his fellow students. Were they in for a big disappointment? Were they going to discover what Charlie already knew? That one does not succeed in show business unless he is the very best, and lucky in the bargain? If so what would they do? Did they have enough skills aside from their music to make a living? On the other hand, without families they really didn't have many options, did they? And there was no doubt, absolutely none, that Signore Guido cared passionately for every one of his students, even part-timers like Charlie. As he got to know some of the members of the choir, Charlie realized that they had an attitude that it was a privilege to be here! They seemed to consider all males with all their parts as somewhat inferior! Was that right? Charlie didn't think so. It was one thing to accept your lot in life and move on, but quite another to consider yourself superior because of some mutilation for whatever reason. Charlie considered himself neither better nor worse than anyone else because of the fact he'd been castrated. That was simply how it was and he could live with it, even take advantage of it because that's what he'd been taught. But these kids, most of them, looked down on anyone who wasn't a castrato. And then there was Paul. The poor kid was really a terrible singer, and to be a castrato and still not be able to sing, well, that had to be a curse from hell itself, or so the members of the castrati choir believed. Paul attended every rehearsal, and always endured the mocking, the chastisement of all the other students. He never complained, just kept trying his best. Charlie hated it! Paul had not so much as disturbed the covers of his own cot since Charlie had arrived. He was so sweet! So lovable! So beautiful! But because he was not a good singer he had few friends, was not accepted by the other students. The emphasis here was on music and Charlie loved music; but he loved people more, and Paul was in need of, and received abundantly, Charlie's love. "You seem very quiet and withdrawn tonight," Charlie observed after lights out. "Is something wrong?" "Not really," came the evasive reply. "Now I know something's wrong! Charlie said. "What is it, Paul?" 'It's ok really. It's just that your family arrives tomorrow, and... well, I'm gonna miss you." "Yeah," Charlie chuckled, "Suppose your own bed is still there?" "It's still there, unfortunately. But it's not nice and warm like this one. 'Course you know what everyone is saying, what they think." "Yeah, I think I got it figured out from the looks, the grins. Is that what you want, Paul?" Paul was quiet for a brief moment. Then he said, "I want them all to think there's something goin' on, cause that way they'll leave you alone." "But what about you? I appreciate you protecting me, but who's gonna protect you? I mean after I leave, they'll think... won't they want a piece of you?" "Probably. But they won't hurt me, and the rest I'll just have to get used to. In a way it'll be nice, bein' good for something." "Did they, err... initiate you when you first came?" "No. I guess I was kinda a mess, crying all the time and all. They're not a bad bunch of guys, just a little over active sometimes." "So you've never done anything like that?" "No. Sometimes when we're all cuddled up like this, I think about it. I mean... sometimes I wish we'd go further than just touching." "Me too Paul. But I can't, right now. I mean Andy..." "Your brother, right?" "Uh-huh. We are sorta more than brothers." "I know. I think it's so kewl, you and your brother loving each other that much." Paul had suddenly become very quiet, so Charlie dropped the subject. He knew somehow that any further discussion would only serve to make Paul remember his family, now all gone. But his keen mind was beginning to work overtime. All of a sudden he couldn't wait to talk to his father. And then he thought of Andy and wondered what he would think, if he knew what Charlie was thinking. As if to reinforce those thoughts, Paul snuggled closer, kissed Charlie softly on the neck, and firmly placed his hand inside Charlie's boxers and went fast asleep. Charlie felt tears burning his eyes. Signore Guido had offered to have Charlie spend a month here every year. Would that be enough? Could he bear to spend eleven months in America, knowing that Paul was here, miserable because he couldn't sing, which was the primary objective of the school? * * * "You're leaving in the morning," Billy said as he and Andy climbed the stairs for bed. "I'm gonna miss you." "Dad said you could come too," Andy reminded him. "There's really not that much goin' on here this time of year." "I know, but I've got all that new land to look over. I want to have a plan ready within the next month, what we're gonna plow right away, what will need more time. And there was some machinery on two of those old farms. I've got to figure out if any of it is any good to us. So I'll see you in the morning, ok?" "Billy..." Andy said tentatively. He was standing at the doorway to the room he and Charlie shared, where he'd been sleeping alone for three weeks. "Yeah, Andy?" Billy answered. He was two steps ahead of Andy, on his way down the hall to his own room. "Could you..." Andy stammered, "Uhhh... would you sleep in Charlie's bed tonight? Please?" "Charlie's bed? Why, Andy?" "I dunno, I guess I just don't want to be alone. I'm kinda nervous about what we're gonna find in Italy." "Nervous? Why nervous?" Billy turned and followed Andy into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. "I'm just kinda afraid," Andy said, "Charlie's gonna like it so much in Italy he's gonna want to stay." "Never happen!" Billy scoffed. "He'd have to be crazy to ever want to leave here, especially now that things are starting to happen in a big way." "You don't know Charlie. He loves music so much..." "He loves you too, Andy. That was obvious the first day I was here." "I love him too. But I just don't know... maybe we shouldn't be... you know... I mean, sometimes I think I'm taking advantage of him." "He... he certainly knew what he was doing in the hay loft. I think he's enjoying it as much as you." Andy looked Billy in the eye. He had managed to keep his hands to himself for the time Charlie had been gone. But now here they were, in his bedroom, both in their boxers, and Andy was not sure he could wait any longer. "And how about you?" he asked Billy, "Did... did you enjoy it?" Billy didn't have to answer, at least with words. The tent in his boxers made it rather obvious that the memories of the romp in the hay were exciting to him. "Andy," he said as their eyes locked, "I'm old enough that I should know what I am, what I'm feeling. But I don't. I find you and Charlie both very attractive... no, it's more than 'attractive.' I love you! I love you both! I'm so confused..." "Billy..." Andy said as his arms slipped around Billy's torso. "Please," Billy said, "let me finish." "Ok," Andy said. "I'm sorry. But you need to know that Charlie and I love you too." "I..." Billy stammered, trying to think of just the right words, "I never thought of myself as gay. I mean, I've never been attracted to another guy before, I never thought about doing the things we've done. But with you guys, it just seems so natural, so right! I can't help myself, Andy!" "Then don't! Enjoy it! The sex part might not last. I think, I hope, the love will, but perhaps the sex part will die down. Until then, why not just relax? We're not doing any harm, and we're... well, it's making a certain little eunuch pretty happy, to say nothing of his big brother." "Are you saying..." Andy questioned. "Yeah, I'm saying!" Andy answered as their lips met. * * * "Mom! Dad! Andy!" Charlie exclaimed as he saw the trio emerge from the arrivals concourse. Guido had driven him to Rome to meet them, and now stood in the background as Charlie greeted and hugged all of them. "Charlie!" Andy exclaimed as they locked in a tight embrace, "I've missed you so much! How ya doing, dude?" "Great now, big bro! I was so afraid something would happen so y'all couldn't come!" "Nothing short of death coulda kept me away!" Andy exclaimed. "I was kinda hoping that Billy would come too." Charlie said. "He sent his best wishes," Dennis answered, "But I think he felt he'd already been away too long. He's really busy getting a plan in place with all the new land we've got to manage." As they traveled back to the school, Charlie chattered endlessly about his stay with the castrati choir. He'd had a good time, he confirmed, but only because he knew it was only a visit. He reassured Dennis over and over that there was no chance that he would give up the farm for a life in Italy. And then Andy asked if he'd made any friends. "Yeah, lots of 'em." Charlie answered, "But especially Paul. Andy, you're not gonna believe Paul! He is so kewl! We been together every minute we could!" "Maybe you could invite your new friend to dinner tonight." Karen suggested, "That is if it's ok Guido." Guido agreed that would be fine, which sent Charlie into one of his hyperactive fits, saying that he couldn't wait for everyone to meet Paul. When Dennis got up from the table to visit the men's room at the restaurant, Charlie followed suit. They had all gone out to dinner: Karen and Dennis, Guido, Andy, Charlie, and Paul. Having checked as soon as they entered the men's room that they were alone, Charlie went on the offensive as he and his father stood at the urinals. "Dad," he said in his best little boy voice which, incidentally, was becoming more difficult for him to invoke, "Can we talk?" "Sure son. But would it be ok if I put my equipment back in my pants first?" For the next ten minutes Charlie's mouth flooded his father with more information than anyone would have thought possible. He told him everything he'd learned about Paul... the revolution, the killing of his rescuers, his trip to Italy, everything! "The thing is, Dad," he went on as he washed his hands for the third time, "He can't sing worth a flip! He really doesn't fit in here. He's not even happy! Do you suppose..." "I'm 'way ahead of you, Charlie." Dennis interrupted, "You want me to try and adopt him, don't you?" "Yes sir. That would be so kewl!" "But Charlie, if he's been through so much... perhaps he wouldn't want to come to live with us. And then there's the whole immigration issue..." "I know he'd love it on our farm, Dad. I know it! He used to live on a sugar plantation." "Charlie, what have you told him? Have you promised..." "No Dad. I know better than that. But he is just so..." Dennis looked at his son... the brightness on his face, the desire in his eyes. "Charlie," he said, "What does all this have to do with you? Have you..." "No, Dad! Of course not! I just love him a lot and I don't think growing up here at the school is what he needs." "But Charlie, we can't go around adopting every homeless kid we encounter." "I know, Dad. But Paul..." "You're in love with him, aren't you?" "I guess maybe I am." "So where does that leave Andy?" "Andy is my brother, Dad. And I'm gonna talk to him about all this first chance I get. But I would never do anything to hurt him. An' if he says no, he doesn't want Paul around, then I'll accept that. But if Andy likes him too..." "I'll talk to Guido." Dennis promised, "Paul does seem like a very nice boy." They all had a very nice dinner, but Guido's presence added a certain formality which everyone seemed to feel. There were things about his experience that Charlie wanted to relate, but they would have to wait. He wanted to be alone with Andy, but that would also have to wait. As they ate and chatted, Charlie found himself wishing he hadn't agreed to stay with the school instead of moving back with his parents when they arrived. It was still early when they left the restaurant, so Guido invited the Conner family back to his office at the school where they could sit and talk comfortably. Once there, Dennis suggested that Charlie take Andy on a tour of the school so his sons could catch up on each other's lives. Both boys shot their father a look that said "thanks" and disappeared. Within seconds of their leaving, Charlie attacked Andy verbally. "We gotta talk about Paul." he said. "I know, Charlie. I guess I know you better than I realized, and I certainly saw the way you two looked at each other. It's ok, lil bro, I understand. But we're still brothers, right?" "You don't understand at all, Andy. I'm not even sure I do." "You and Paul been sleeping together?" "Yeah, we have. Every night, Andy. But not... well, we haven't done anything." "Nothing?" Andy said with astonishment, "Nothing at all?" "Nothing. Unless you consider a lot of touching as doing something." Now Andy was really shocked. Of course his only frame of reference was his own experience, and he could not imagine sleeping with someone he cared for and touching intimately, yet not going further. "Charlie," he said, "That's not normal!" "'Course it ain't!" he answered, "But remember, we're not normal either." "But," Andy protested, "We both know that everything still works, so I don't understand..." Charlie went on to share a conversation he'd had with Guido. "Signore Guido told me that sex drive comes from lots of different places. When it first starts it is either from hormones or love, but after that any experiences get stored in memory, and things just sorta build. He said that he thought Paul and I were content with not doing anything because Paul has had no experience at all, and I have only had what you and I have done, so my mind kinda associates sex with you." "Sounds like a lot of shrink stuff." "I guess it is in a way. But without hormones we are relying on our memories to give us whatever drive we've got. I mean, don't get me wrong, I would love to do it with Paul and so would he, but I didn't figure you'd like it at least without my asking first, and Andy, you're still first in my life. No one gets inside my pants without your permission!" "So you told Guido everything? Even about you and me?" "Uh-huh. I came here to learn, Andy, and Signore Guido works with eunuchs all the time. He knows better'n anyone I know how that affects us, and I learned a lot about what to expect. He says he still doesn't think I'm necessarily gay, but I fell in love and the person I love happens to be male. I'm not sure I understand the difference, but he says there is one." Charlie went on to tell how Paul had established a reputation by sleeping with Charlie every night and letting the whole school think that they were having sex. He told the reasons, then he told of Paul's violent past. He related that Paul couldn't sing three notes together and stay on pitch, therefore he wasn't very happy in this music-oriented place. He told him that he had told Paul he thought their mom and he could teach Paul to sing, given enough time. Then he somewhat nervously said that he had asked Dennis to consider adopting him. Andy was silent for a long time. He looked into Charlie's face and simply bathed his emotions in the beauty of his little brother: Skin still as smooth as when he was a baby. Beneath that silky smooth skin were developing muscles that rippled when he moved; arms and legs exceptionally long, but not so much so that they were grotesque; movements so graceful they were poetry in motion; blond hair that had grown back even thicker than it was before. Those deep blue eyes that had grown so dull for the better part of a year seemed now to be brighter, more shining, than ever! "I..." Andy stammered, "I think you should." "Should what?" "Everything. I think you should try to talk Dad into adopting him. You should teach him to sing. And... uh... I think you should make love to him." "Andy!" an astonished Charlie said, "Are you sayin'..." "Yeah, Charlie. You do love him don't you?" "I dunno, Andy; but I think so. I kinda feel about him the same way I do about you. But I don't love you any less, and I don't wanna..." "We're different in so many ways now, Charlie, we might as well be different in this way too. I know you so well, and I know that when you love someone, you love them completely. All I ask is that you both want it. Don't try to talk him into anything and don't allow yourself to be talked into anything either. But I know you and frankly I'm surprised you haven't been more tempted already." "I never said I wasn't tempted," Charlie answered, "Only that I hadn't done anything." * * * "Your parents are so nice!" Paul said as they got ready for bed, "And your brother is really kewl! You're really lucky, Charlie." "Yeah, I know. I'm awful glad you like 'em, 'cause it's gonna make what I got to say now a lot easier. I'm not supposed to say anything to you till we know more, but I gotta know what you think. Paul, I have asked my dad to look into taking you back with us. If you want to, that is." "Taking me back? You mean to the States?" "Uh-huh. Dad would adopt you same as he did Andy. You'd be our little brother!" "He'd do that? Why?" "Cause they think you're kewl and I asked them to. My folks have this soft spot for kids who have it rough. I told 'em you're really not happy here. I wasn't wrong, was I?" "No, you weren't wrong. But I dunno... I lost one family and I don't think I could live through losing another one." "We gotta take chances in life, Paul. You're never gonna be loved if you're not willing to take a chance and give your love. Andy taught me that. And besides, you can speak Italian and I want to learn. I figure you can teach me." "Let me think about it, ok? I'd love to come if I get the chance, but I'm... well, afraid." "Just think about it, ok? We're not rich at least money wise, but we got a great farm, an incredible family, and it's a place where you can... well... spread your wings. Like for example, I'm here right now. My parents thought it would be an experience I could benefit from, so here I am." * * * "Paul?" Charlie whispered when they were in bed, cuddled so closely together they appeared as one body. "Yeah, Charlie?" "Andy said something else tonight..." "Yeah? About me?" "Uh-huh. He said he thought you were really cute and he likes you a lot. I always knew that but it was important to me what Andy thought, ya know?" "Yeah, I know. I could tell tonight how much you love him. I can understand why too. He is so great!" "He said something else too." "Like what?" "Paul, he said... he said it'd be ok with him if we want to make love!" * * * It was only two days after the Conner family had left that Billy noticed the brown patrol car in the driveway. He was just coming back from one of the new farms they'd bought, intent on making notes on the computer about all the various fields he'd evaluated while it was all fresh in his mind. His first reaction, of course, was that something had happened in Italy. "I'm sheriff John Atkins." the man said as Billy pulled up, "And you are?" "Hello sir," Billy answered, "I'm Billy Chan. I work for the Conners." "Oh yes, I remember hearing that Dennis had got some help. Where in the world is everyone?" the sheriff demanded. "This is my third time by and no one is ever here." "They're all gone to Italy," Billy answered. "They won't be back for about ten days. Is there a problem?" "No, not really a problem, but the State Bureau of Investigation are interested in talking with Charlie. Something about tying up some loose ends concerning his brother's death." "I have a phone number where I can reach them in Italy," Billy offered. "I could call them if you like." "No, thanks," the sheriff replied. "I don't think that'll be necessary. They'll be home in about a week, you say?" "Yes, sir. I think next Wednesday they'll be here." "That'll be good enough. Would you be good enough to have Dennis call me?" he said as he handed Billy his card. "Yes, sir," Billy said, "as soon as they're home." Billy had a bad feeling about this... a very bad feeling. As soon as the sheriff was gone, he ran inside and got on the phone. Getting in touch with Dennis turned out to be a lot easier than Billy would have expected, given the differences in language, time zones, the probability of them being in their room when he called. But Dennis assured him he had nothing to fear. "I know John Atkins," he said, "and he'd tell you if there as anything serious." "But..." Billy protested, "he seemed so anxious to talk to Charlie!" "Local cops always get nervous when the state or federal police are involved. It's nothing, Billy. Don't worry about it! But thanks for calling. It's nice to know you're looking out for us while we're here." "Not a problem, Dennis. You guys just have fun, and I'll see y'all when you get back." * * * 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.