Date: Fri, 05 Jan 2001 13:16:02 -0500 From: Charlie Subject: Andy-Revised 30 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. XXX Andy's Revelation Andy and Billy sat at the Conner kitchen table, shaking their heads in total disbelief. Mark Stevens was there, as were Dennis and Karen. Paul and Christopher were upstairs playing video games on Charlie's computer. "So you're telling us," Billy said, "we can't do anything about what was very obviously false testimony? That's not grounds for an appeal?" "Not with all three of the witnesses gone." "But where would they go?" Dennis asked. "It doesn't seem reasonable that all three of them would just disappear." "It happens, Dennis. They were convenience store clerks. Do you have any idea what the turnover is in jobs like that?" "Turnover is one thing," Karen said, "completely disappearing is quite another." It had been two weeks since Mark had been called with the revelation about Charlie's hair. His reaction had been negative from the start, citing the obvious: that the main charge they had to fight was the one for murder, not robbery. Billy had argued that surely the flawed evidence would be sufficient to get a new trial on all charges. Then at least they could present a better case than they'd done last time. No, Mark said stubbornly, they should wait until they had something to challenge all the charges. "So we just leave him there?' Dennis said with disgust. "For the time being, yes. You've said he seems quite content and happy, so we're better off not rocking the boat until we're sure we've got something concrete." "That's bullshit!" Billy said haughtily. "Eventually they're gonna think we're not planning to appeal at all. And what about Charlie? He's gonna think we're not even trying." "I'm sorry," Mark said, "but I'm your attorney and that's the way I see it. Obviously you have the right to get a new attorney at any time, but as long as I'm handling the case, I'll decide when is the right time to go forward. And in my opinion this is not the right time." By the middle of November, Charlie was well into the routine of prison life. He still hadn't had any visitors, but today was the day. It was Sunday, a beautiful warm November day, and Charlie was up at 6, getting ready. Not that there was anything to do that he didn't do any other morning, but Charlie wasn't about to be late. As soon as his cell door was unlocked, he was in the shower. And that was his first mistake. "Hi, pretty little farm boy!" a voice came from the shadows as Charlie lathered up. "Who's there?" he demanded. "Just us lover boys," came the answer. Three youths appeared around the corner. They were from the other end of the floor, and had somehow got past the control center by the elevators. "It's time you got more friendly with your neighbors," the one they called Reno said. "This won't take long, and I guarantee it's gonna feel good." Charlie didn't have to be told what was coming, he already knew. He ducked under the stream of water from the shower to rinse the soap off his body. He didn't want to slip on the floor, and he had no intention of submitting without a fight, even a fight he knew he'd lose. He was terrified, but he'd been warned and had chosen to take his chances. Now he would just have to deal with the consequences. But why today, of all days? Should he just give in? At least that way he wouldn't be all marked and bruised up for his first family visit. Perhaps if he fought back, he would end up in segregation and wouldn't get to see them at all. And he did want to see them. But before he'd had a chance to think it through and make a decision, he heard himself saying defiantly, "Come and get me. You'll probably win, but you're gonna know you've been in a fight." The first punch landed squarely in Charlie's chest, sending him sprawling across the shower floor. The second didn't land at all. Charlie got to his feet and put his head down, then head butted the largest of the trio directly in the groin, dropping him to his knees. Without waiting for his victim to recover, Charlie kicked him hard where it would hurt the most. Another fist struck the side of Charlie's head, sending him reeling dizzily in the opposite direction. This time he didn't go down, but returned to his attackers, his arms flailing crazily. When Charlie felt his arms being grabbed from behind he tried to whirl and face his new attackers, assuming Reno and his friends had reinforcements, but they held too tightly. "Calm down," Larry ordered, "You don't wanna mess up today. Just go over in the corner while the guys and I take care of this shit." When Charlie looked around, he was astonished to see that Larry, together with six of their cellblock mates, had arrived and were protecting him. "You know the rules," Larry said to the visitors. "He's mine!" "Yours?" Reno questioned. "Nobody told us." "You shoulda figured it out! You blind? He's been my cell mate for almost three months. What do we have to do, make a sign?" "Hey, man, I'm sorry. We thought..." "There ya go, thinking again. I keep telling you, ya gotta have equipment to do that. It's called brains and you're fresh out. Now get back to your own side before you get us all in trouble. Today's Conner's first family visit, and if that gets screwed up you're gonna have to answer to me! "Thanks, guys," Charlie said after his attackers had gone. "I... I mean, I don't know what to say..." "Don't say nuthin'," Larry answered. "They won't bother you any more." "But they think... that you and I..." "Yup. That's what they think..." "But..." "Just shut up and get dressed. You goin' to the church service this morning?" "Yeah, I was planning to." "But the chaplain hates you!" "Don't matter. He won't hurt me. I'm goin' anyway. Besides, it's not the chaplain I'm going to worship." "Then let's go get breakfast. I'm goin' with ya to chapel, ok?" Charlie rode nervously down the elevator at precisely 2 PM. When he emerged on the ground floor, he was so nervous he could hardly stand. Why? He didn't have the slightest idea. He was going to meet his parents! His parents, for Heaven's sake! And he was nervous! He was so nervous his knees wobbled. Then as he passed through the sliding steel door into the visitors lounge, he saw them. They were sitting at one of the many tables, waiting for him. "Mom!" he called. "Dad! Andy!" The next few minutes were predictably very emotional. Charlie could feel the eyes of the CO's watching him. Physical contact wasn't exactly against the rules, but it was definitely discouraged. Charlie knew with all the hugs he was getting and giving, he'd be in for a strip search as soon as his visitors were gone. But he didn't care. It felt so incredibly good to feel someone he loved in his arms, and to feel loving arms around him! He tried desperately not to cry, but he failed. So did the visiting trio. "You look good, Charlie!" Karen said after they'd all sat down around the small table. "Thanks, Mom," Charlie answered. "I wouldn't expect you to say anything else. How's the others? Christopher and Paul? Billy?" "They're fine. We all came to Morganton, but of course Billy isn't allowed to visit, at least not yet. Only immediate family were allowed in." "Next time I wanna see the little guys." Charlie said. "At least one of 'em. Maybe one each time or something like that." "I... I don't know, Charlie," Karen said, "I'm not sure that's such a good idea. I mean, this place..." "Mom, we're not monsters in here. We're just people who got in trouble. We're not dangerous." "I know that, honey. But... well, with all they've been through, especially Paul..." "We'll talk about that later," Dennis said. "We don't have a lot of time, so let's just enjoy the visit, ok?" "Hey," Charlie said with new enthusiasm, "I been going to Foothills the past month." "The other prison?" Andy asked. "Uh-huh. It's really cool in there. I even get to eat my supper there on Wednesday nights." "How come?" Dennis asked. "I thought it was for adults." "It is, if you call over eighteen adult. I was coming down here with the church group that comes in from town every Tuesday night, and I ended up playin' the piano for our hymn sing. This group is from the same church that Superintendent Booth goes to, so they talked him into lettin' me go to Foothills and play when they go there Wednesday night. It's really cool over there!" "So they just let you go with the church group?" Andy asked. "Not hardly," Charlie said with a chuckle. "I got to be manacled and fettered, an' I go over in a prison van. That's why I end up eating supper over there. The last van goes pretty early." "But how do you get back?" "Sargent Brady comes and gets me in his car. Long as I'm all chained and he's a certified CO, he's allowed. He's really nice. Everybody likes Sargent Brady." "I don't know how you can stand always being chained like that," Andy observed. "You do what you gotta do, Andy. Rules are rules, and according to the rules I don't set foot past that door over there without being chained hand and foot. Besides, it's not that bad once you get used to it, an' the alternative is so much worse." "Alternative?" "Yeah. Bein' in a non secure area without being restrained could get a person shot." They had a pleasant two hours, sitting and talking about what was going on at the farm, how the crops were coming. They discussed Charlie's life on the inside. He told them about Larry, expressing how much he wished they could all meet him. Andy sat very quietly. He looked very carefully at his brother. Andy knew what goes on in prisons, or at least he thought he did. He'd read the stories, the statistics. He knew how rampant AIDS had become in the prison system and how people got it. He listened as Charlie went on about Larry, how great they got along. Charlie was wearing his prison brown pants and a white T-shirt, which was tight enough to show the results of his efforts in the weight room. Charlie's long arms were becoming quite muscular, and on Charlie it looked really good. And now he was sharing a cell with an older male, one who had been in this place for over three years. Both were, as far as they knew, locked up for the rest of their lives. Charlie had to be a temptation to anyone in that situation. Did he dare ask Charlie if he had... if he was... No, he simply didn't dare. He didn't want to know the answer. He also didn't want to discuss with Charlie what he and Billy had been up to after hours on more than one occasion. Charlie chattered on endlessly about the Tuesday night groups at Western, then the repeats the following nights at Foothills. He told them proudly how almost no one had ever showed up when he first started, but now that they knew there would be good music, more and more of his friends, and some of the kids he didn't even know, were putting in an appearance. No, he admitted, they weren't falling all over themselves to get religion, but it was a start. At least they were learning how to socialize in a way that would be acceptable if and when they ever got out. And if they didn't, well, at least they'd learned one more way to amuse themselves and enjoy life in this depressing place. Before anyone was ready, the two hours was up and a buzzer sounded, the signal for the relatives and friends to say their good-byes. Charlie hugged them each warmly, whispered in both his parents' ears, imploring them to reconsider bringing his two other brothers next time. As ordered, Charlie had to leave first; so he got up, flashed them one more smile, waved, and was gone. "We've got to get him outa there!" Andy exclaimed as they walked back to the car. Billy and the two little boys were waiting there. "Charlie's settling in as if he really plans to spend his life there." "He's just trying to make the best of it," Karen said. "I think he's doing a pretty good job of it. All the guards I saw seemed friendly to him, and his psychologist seems to think he's adjusting well." "That's just it. He's adjusting too well! I don't want him adjusting, I want him OUT of there!" "We're doing all we can," Dennis answered. "I don't think so, Dad. I don't think we're doing anything at all. We keep waiting for Mark Stevens to do something, and he keeps doing nothing. Damn, Dad, even with that new evidence, he just wants to sit! We've got to DO something!" "He sure doesn't seem to feel any urgency," Dennis agreed. "Well?" Larry demanded when a rather quiet Charlie appeared back on the thirteenth floor, "how'd it go?" "Not bad," Charlie answered. "My mom and dad were there, and my brother Andy. We had a good visit." "Two hours went by pretty fast, huh?" "Yeah, man. But they'll be back. I'm hopin' in two weeks, if I'm lucky." "Most of the guys don't get visitors but once a month." "Yeah, I know. But I can be hopeful, can't I?" Charlie didn't say much the rest of the day. As expected, he'd been strip searched before he was allowed back in population. Fortunately all his family had given him was three books, a new CD and some batteries, which he had declared immediately when asked. Even that was pushing the limit, but he was allowed to keep them. So now he just flopped on his bunk, CD player blaring in his ears, reading a book. Sunday evening had always been one of the best times in Charlie's week. The entire family would have worked hard all week, doubly hard on Saturday to finish up the week's work. Sunday morning would find them all at church, with Charlie and his mother doing something musical. Sunday afternoon would be spent either at home singing and playing, performing in a gospel concert somewhere, or just relaxing with his dad at some fishing pond or swimming hole, then a huge meal at the end of the day. Sunday evening would be spent simply chilling out. They sat around and read, perhaps watched a little TV, or had a discussion about the day's events. This was a family time! Now Charlie understood why one of the most difficult times for prison inmates was Sunday evening. There were discipline problems; kids became unruly, fell into a deep depression, even attempted suicide! Sometimes the problem was brought on by a visit that intensified the loneliness or homesickness; other times it occurred because inmates didn't receive the visits they'd expected, or perhaps never had visitors, as was the case with Larry. Charlie knew all this, had been warned that there was a down side to the euphoria that was a family visit. Depression, he'd been told, was almost inevitable. Still, even though he was armed with all the information, he had to fight valiantly to keep from being consumed by that depression. It was after lights out when Charlie finally let himself go. When he allowed himself to cry, he thought he was being pretty quiet, but obviously not quiet enough. "Conner!" came the urgent whispered voice from the bunk below him, "get your ass down here!" "I'm ok," Charlie whispered back. "Now, Conner, or I'm comin' up!" "I'm sorry, Larry," Charlie said after he'd snuggled close. "You weren't supposed to hear." "I been waitin' for it, Conner. I was beginning to think you were made of cast iron. You never let yourself cry. But I knew it was gonna be tough tonight, just by the look on your face when you came back upstairs. What happened?" "It's ok. I'm just missin' them." "It's more than that, Conner. Now what's wrong? Did they give you hell?" "No, I told ya, we had a good visit. Only..." "Only what? What, Conner?" "My mom... she doesn't want to bring my little brothers in to visit. That means I might never see them again. I just... well, I miss 'em!" "Bitch!" "Don't you call my mom a bitch!" Charlie flared. "Don't you ever call her that! You call her that again an' you're gonna have to answer to me!" Charlie was sitting bold upright in the bunk, fists clenched, ready to rearrange Larry's face, or give it a good try. "Ok, ok," Larry said. "Man, Conner, calm down! I didn't mean it! I was just thinkin'..." "You better not mean it!" Charlie would have said more, but he was crying again. "I'm sorry, Larry," he blubbered. "Guess I'm not as strong as I thought I was. I know my mom's right. This is no place for them, even for a visit. I'm just not that strong when it comes to missing my brothers." "You're the strongest little dude I've ever seen," Larry answered as he held Charlie close with one hand, explored with the other. "Most of the guys in here, me included, well, we're here 'cause we belong here. If we weren't in here we'd be alone on the streets. You're different, Conner. You don't belong here. You got a nice family, and I really do believe you're not guilty at all. And still you hold your head up and manage to smile! You're an inspiration to all of us, Conner." Charlie noticed Larry's exploring hands, but he allowed it. If felt good to be intimate again, and he really was beginning to care a great deal for Larry. "Larry?" Charlie said as they both did their share of touching. "Yeah, Conner?" "Thanks. For this morning I mean." "It's ok." "But, you offered me a deal and I turned it down. I didn't think you'd..." "What'd you think I was gonna do, leave you alone to face those clowns?" "Well, that's what you said you'd do." "Well, I lied. Consider it an investment. Besides, I got it pretty good in here now. Till you came my trust fund was always empty. Since you came I always have candy, ice cream, whatever. Every time you go to the canteen you get me something too. I owe you for that." "No ya don't. We're cell mates, friends! I got lots, so why wouldn't I share?" The explorations intensified. There was very little about Charlie's anatomy now that Larry hadn't explored with his hands. "Larry?" "Yeah, Conner?" "Can I... uhhh can I say something that's gonna sound really strange?" "Won't be the first time, Conner. Half the shit you say is over my head. What?" "Larry, what you wanted to do... I mean... you know, what they were gonna do this morning... I'm not gonna change my mind. I won't ever say yes it's ok. But if it's important to you, I won't fight you." " You're right, Conner, that's really strange. But I know what you mean. I can live with that, Conner. Maybe some day I'll change my mind, but for now I can live with that." They lay very still for fifteen minutes, each exploring, manipulating, fondling the other with his hands. "Conner?" Larry whispered, "you still awake?" "Yeah, Larry. What?" "How come you always call me Larry?" "Cause that's your name." Mullin's my name too. Everyone else calls me Mullin. Everyone uses last names here 'cept you." "Reminds me of a bunch of little boys tryin' to sound tough. But Larry is the name someone gave you, probably your mother. Your family name just sorta came with you, but your given name was given to you, and with some sort of love. I think it's a form of respect to call someone by their first name." "Really? You respect me?" "Course I do!" Now it was Larry's turn to cry. He didn't let Charlie see him, but he cried all the same. No one had ever respected him, at least not the way Charlie did. He'd earned some respect in his neighborhood as a good fighter, got lots of respect when he was brandishing a weapon of some sort. In the prison system most inmates kept their distance and avoided confrontation with him; but this wasn't respect, really. This was fear! Intimidation! Now here comes this little squeaky-voiced eunuch, whom Larry was confident he could break in two without even breathing hard, and Charlie had no fear of him whatsoever! And now he was saying he respected him! What was this kid doing to him? There was a killing in November. Someone had smuggled a piece of metal from somewhere and made it into a weapon, then stabbed an inmate in the exercise room. Fortunately Charlie and his friends, most of his cell block now, were in the library where he and Larry had been helping teach some of the inmates to read. Aside from being locked down for four days and visits revoked for two weeks, they came out of that incident relatively unscathed. In December they weren't so lucky. A fight broke out in the cafeteria at the table next to where Charlie was sitting. As he'd been instructed to do, Charlie froze and waited for orders. When a foot struck the side of his head, he went down hard and lost consciousness. When he woke up he was locked in his cell. Larry was nowhere to be found. Half the cell block, he later determined, was locked down on the sixteenth floor. They had been protecting Charlie! The duty officers had tried really hard to get a handle on exactly what had happened and who was to blame, but they didn't even come close. Of course no one would talk and Charlie understood that; He couldn't tell them anything because he didn't know, and chances are he wouldn't have done so anyway. In this society ratting was simply not tolerated, for any reason at all. So Charlie spent the two weeks immediately preceding Christmas locked in his cell, while most of his friends were three floors above him in segregation. There were no trials here, no witnesses, no lawyers or judges. In this place the Correction Officer and what he saw was the only law. In January there was an escape. Charlie was one of the first to learn about it. He'd been sent to the ground floor to get some mail at Central Control. As he exited the elevator he looked through the bars into the lobby. There were about fifteen officers there, all loading revolvers and placing holsters on their belts. Officers inside the security barrier were never armed, so Charlie knew something was up. He knew better than to ask any of the officers he didn't know, but when he saw Sargent Brady he knew he'd get a straight answer. "Two open custody inmates ran," Brady said. "Crazy idiots have been here five years, just got classified for work release last month. They only had three months to go and they ran." "How old are they?" Charlie asked. "One's eighteen, the other's seventeen." "But they're... they're loading their guns out there! They wouldn't shoot 'em, would they?" "What did they tell you when you came here, Conner? Didn't they tell you that if you were caught escaping, or even LOOKED like you were trying to escape, that they could and would shoot you?" "Yes, sir. But, like, I'm a felon. A lifer. And I guess I never thought about it anyway 'cause I had no intention of trying to escape. But would they really shoot 'em?" "Yes, Conner, they would. The rule is with an escaped convict, you warn once, then you shoot." It was a warm Saturday afternoon in March when Carlo Meoli came calling. Andy was home alone, working on what had been Charlie's computer. They had got Charlie a new multimedia kit, a good one, for his birthday last summer. They had left it wrapped up and in a closet all this time, but finally Andy had decided he'd go ahead and install it. At the very earliest it would be several more months before there was any hope of Charlie coming home, and the speed with which the appeals were going it could be years. It just seemed silly to leave all that high tech stuff wrapped in a box, and Andy reasoned that they might find a way to make some CD's for Charlie. Karen and Dennis had taken the younger boys to see a special outdoor recital in Wilmington, and Billy was in Raleigh picking up some baler twine in preparation for the coming season. Andy was alone for most of the day, so he busied himself with the computer. "Mr. Meoli!" Andy exclaimed, "what a surprise! I haven't seen you for months!" "Hello, Andy," he said as he offered his hand. "Yes, it's been too long." "I'm afraid I'm here alone, Mr. Meoli. Everyone else is out." "That's good, Andy! It's you I came to see." "Me?" Andy repeated. "What on earth..." Suddenly the alarm bells were going off in Andy's head again. Those damned alarm bells! The same ones that had made an idiot of Andy twice before. Only this time they were clanging so hard Andy could hardly hear himself think. What the merry hell! Andy offered his guest something to drink, but Carlo declined. He couldn't stay long, Meoli said, but he had something very important to talk about. "Fine," Andy said. "Do you mind if we discuss it in my room? I was just finishing up some work on the computer." "Work?" Carlo inquired. "Is it giving trouble?" "No, sir," Andy replied, "not trouble." It's the computer Charlie had. I'm just upgrading it. Charlie built it, and it's a really good one, but you know how computers are. If you don't constantly upgrade them they become obsolete." As they made themselves comfortable in Andy's room, Carlo watched as Andy opened and closed some windows, then clicked the START button in one of the windows. "What's it doing now?" Carlo asked. "Formatting the new hard drive," Andy answered. "Then all I have to do is test it. I'll start the test running now, then we can talk." "I came to ask your help, Andy," Carlo began when he had all Andy's attention. "I have a plan to get Charlie out of prison." More alarm bells, even louder! "Get him out? You mean something new in the appeal?" "Not exactly. I know I don't have to tell you that the appeal process is pretty well stalled because we have nothing new in the murder conviction. But I have a plan that will bypass all that." "Bypass it?" Andy clicked another button, then minimized the window. "What was that?" Carlo demanded. "OH, nothing. Just phase two of the test. It should run by itself now. What did you mean, bypass the appeal?" "I think we have enough evidence," Carlo said, "to be granted a new trial." "But, nothing new has happened in months!" "Almost nothing! What's happened is that I've found some people I can bribe. I have already been told that placing the right amount of money in the right places, I can not only get Charlie a new trial, but I can get him back here for that trial, and have him released on bail. That's when I'll need your help." "My help?" "To get him out of the country! We'll take him back to Italy where he'll be safe. He'll never win the new trial any more than he won the last one, but he'll never go back to prison either." "But... then he'll be an escaped murderer!" "He'll also be free!" Andy's head was swimming. "Why?" he asked. "Why would you do that? I mean, why would you spend all that money on briberies, then take the risk of getting him out of the country? And why me? I mean, why not Dad? Or Billy? Or a stranger?" "Because I think you'll do it. Charlie trusts you, and I think you want him out of that prison badly enough to do anything to get him out. I doubt that Dennis would do it. I don't know how much Charlie trusts Billy, and I don't know if he'd do it anyway. It has to be you, Andy." "But... how..." "I will provide you with a new car, bought under a fictitious name. You will drive Charlie to Mexico where I'll have a chartered plane waiting for you. It will take you to South America where you'll board a commercial flight for Italy. There you will both be safe, and Charlie will be able to sing as he's always done." "Mr. Meoli," Andy said thoughtfully, "I think I'm getting a pretty horrible picture here. Did... did you have anything to do with Charlie being in prison?" "Of course! I arranged it all!" "You... you arranged it? But how..." "Everyone has his price, Andy. Everyone, including you!" "And now... you're sitting there and just telling me everything? Like you were telling about a picnic you had last week? Why on earth would you do that? If you know how much I love Charlie, you have to know that your life is in real danger right now. What's to stop me from... well, getting revenge, or telling the authorities?" "Your love for Charlie. The very same love for Charlie that makes you want to tear me apart right now will restrain you from doing anything. If you do anything to hurt me, you'll never get him out and you know it. As for telling the authorities, that's laughable. Do you really think they'd believe you? With the legal team I have on my side, you could never get me arrested. You don't even know how many of the police officers I've bribed. For all you know they are all on my payroll. And if by some miracle you did manage to get me charged, your story would get twisted so badly you would wind up in prison for the rest of your life too, only there'd be no one there to break you out." "Ok then, but how did you do it? I mean, Charlie was pretty sure Garth committed suicide. Are you saying that you..." "Good heavens, no! As far as I know, Garth died just as Charlie said he did. I just took advantage of the situation. "But the emails on Garth's computer!" "My people altered them. I told them what to write and they did it. Much of that groundwork had been done before Garth died. We knew where he was staying long before even Charlie did. When Garth died in that holdup, that was just an added bonus. The store clerks were bribed to identify Charlie, and then they disappeared." "You killed them?" "No, I didn't kill them. One is living very well in Mexico, another in South America, and the third is in Italy. They are all very wealthy." "What about Garth's girl friend?" Andy asked. "Are you saying that you bribed her too?" "Not exactly. She was dying anyway. I promised her that I would take care of her child. She'd had a baby only three months before she recorded that confession. She would do anything for that child." "Where is the baby now?" "Dead. She had AIDS too. She was born with AIDS. Mindy didn't know it, but if the stupid bitch had any brains she'd have known." "You killed her and the baby?" "I didn't kill anybody, Andy. I'm a gentle man. They were facing perhaps several pretty difficult and painful years, so I arranged to relieve them of their pain. They simply went to sleep and didn't wake up." "And I suppose you relieved Charlie of his pain by setting up all that cancer and castration foolishness in the hospital?" "No, they made those errors all by themselves. I merely tried to salvage what was left and help Charlie to make the best of it. He has a wonderful future as a singer." Andy could not believe it! Carlo sat there in his bedroom, the bedroom he'd shared with Charlie, and told Andy every detail of his conspiracy. He had bribed the attorneys, including Evan Turnbull; he'd had a little trouble, he said, getting Mark Stevens to cooperate. But a few threats toward his family and an extra payment or two got him into the plan as well. "But why?" Andy said. "Why put Charlie in prison?" "Charlie has a voice that cannot be wasted," Carlo explained. "It may very well be the last of its kind for generations to come. He was going to refuse our offer to train with Guido, and probably take hormones and destroy that voice forever, and I simply could not allow that! And now, after nine months in prison, and probably another two or three while we get this whole thing set up, he'll be more than willing to live his life in Italy. There he'll be a celebrity, not a fugitive. I have also set up a fortune in a bank in Europe, in Charlie's name. He will be very wealthy. Charlie is going to thank me for doing this some day." "But he made his decision! He stated very clearly he didn't want to be a male singer with a female voice!" "He is a child, Andy! He doesn't understand the value of what he has! He simply does not understand. I had to save him from doing something very foolish." "I still can't believe you're sitting here and telling me everything. I would think you'd want to keep it very quiet." "I do, Andy. You do too. It's all about power, and money is power. I give away more money to charity every year than you'll ever see in your entire life. When you have that much money, you have power! So if you do decide to repeat all I've told you, who do you think will believe you? My attorneys can make you look like nothing. You're an orphan boy! You've only been here three years! You have no allies except a family of North Carolina farmers. It would be very foolish of you to do anything except exactly what I tell you, and I think you're intelligent enough to realize it." "So you and Guido were in this together?" "No, my friend, Guido would never participate in such a plan. But now that it's done, I'm sure that he'll welcome Charlie with open arms. He values that voice as much as I do, and maybe more! Guido doesn't know that I had anything to do with Charlie's going to prison and I'd rather he not find out. But even if he does, I think I can handle him." "But what about Mom and Dad?" "I think until it's over they should not know about it. After Charlie is free I suspect they'll be so thrilled they'll be a lot more receptive to the plan. They won't turn me in because without me, the whole plan could fall apart. And if things got twisted just a little, it could be said that your whole family was in on the plot from the beginning. Then you'd all go to jail!" "I don't know, Mr. Meoli. It's all so... so fantastic!" "Think about it, my young friend. We don't have a lot of time, but think about it. You can give me your answer in a week. But I think after all that's happened you will agree, I have some pretty influential friends. I've put Charlie where he is, and I can keep him there as long as I choose. You really don't have a choice, Andy, if you ever want to sleep with your brother again." Andy stood in the doorway of his home, watching the long white limo glide down the driveway toward the road, then turn left and disappear. He ran back upstairs and looked at the computer. He maximized the window he'd minimized forty-five minutes ago. "That test better work," he muttered to himself as he clicked STOP. A message popped on the screen: "Save file before exit?" Andy clicked YES. "Gotcha!" he said with a grin. "I got you good! When will you people ever learn not to mess with the Conner family? You're goin' down, you son of a bitch!" When Andy heard the Powerstroke Diesel arrive, he ran to the window and threw it open. "Billy!" he screamed, "get your ass up here! NOW!" "In a minute," Billy called back. "I gotta unload all this twine first. I could use a hand." "NOW!" Andy screamed. "Fuck the twine. Get up here, NOW!" Monday morning at 8:30 AM, Dennis and Karen were sitting in the waiting room of the Governor's office. With them were their three sons and Billy, who was fast becoming their son in every respect except name. Billy had taken the four CD's Andy had produced from the huge file he'd created on the big new hard drive he'd just installed, and had taken them to one of his recent acquaintances at NC State. Professor George Ellis had watched the first one for a few minutes, then got on the phone to his friend the Attorney General's office, who had in turn called the Governor. "I have never in my entire life seen such an incredible kangaroo court!" the Governor exclaimed as he browsed through the court records. "And that video! The quality! There isn't a court in the land that can dispute anything on that video! How on earth did you ever get it?" "My sons did it, sir," Dennis said proudly. When he realized what he'd said, he shot a quick look at Billy. He thought of correcting himself, then thought better of it. Of course the governor had watched enough of the video to know what it said, and that it was difficult to dispute. Andy had just finished installing a state of the art audio/video digital recording system on Charlie's computer. It had been Charlie's birthday present and was forgotten for several months, then Andy had decided he would set it up and make some video CD's, in hopes that Charlie could somehow watch them. So what the Governor was watching was a very high quality picture on his own computer, complete with very high quality stereo sound. There was no distortion, none of the usual interference normally found in surveillance tapes, because this was not a surveillance device. This was studio quality stuff, intended for recording Charlie's music. It was a trivial matter to alter a digital picture, a sound track, a movie. But to produce a video such as this one, forty-five minutes long with video and audio perfectly in sync, would take a professional months to complete. Andy, an amateur, would take months to even learn how! Charlie was sitting in a math class, almost asleep. He was bored out of his mind as the teacher went over the same basic quadratic equation for the seventeenth time. Charlie had learned this concept long before he'd ever seen this prison or any other, but here he was, in eleventh grade math, waiting patiently for some of his classmates to learn the concept that they should have learned years ago. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard his name. "Charlie Conner!" the intercom rasped throughout Western Youth Institution, "Report to the Superintendent's office, on the double!" The Super's office? Heads turned and looked at him. No one ever got called to the Super's office, unless... unless they were about to go back to court, they were being downgraded back to extended isolation, they'd been charged with some new offence, a death in their immediate family... something really serious. What had he done? His classmates were eyeing him questioningly. "You'd better go, Conner," the teacher said. Getting to the Superintendent's office was not a trivial task. It was located on the ground floor, in a non-secure part of the building. That meant that Charlie had to take an elevator from the fourth floor to the third, and there have himself chained hand and foot. Then back on the elevator to ground level, then convince Central Control that he was justified in his request to go through the lobby and down the hall. He would have to find someone to escort him of course, which could be a problem this time of day. The shift was just about to change and no one wanted to get involved in anything new, like taking a nervous, manacled kid into a non-secure area. Charlie's fears turned out to be groundless. As the elevator stopped on three, an officer got on and told Charlie to continue to ground, that he would chain him there. Within minutes Charlie was standing in front of the Super's desk, precisely where he'd been standing the day he arrived here. "I'm not going to beat around the bush, Conner," Superintendent Booth said. "I just received a call from the Governor. Your convictions, all of them, have been overturned. You're going home, Charlie!" "O... overturned? You mean I got a pardon?" "No, Charlie, not a pardon. The verdicts have been reversed! It's unusual but it happens. A judge on the supreme court has found that your trial was absolutely ludicrous and has scrapped the entire thing! It seems your brothers also found some new evidence that certainly didn't hurt." "But... when?" Charlie's knees were weak, and he leaned on the officer who was now removing his chains. "When do I have to go?" "You are free to go right now, Charlie. I have been authorized to get you a change or two of clothes and get you into a hotel until your family arrives. You may have an officer with you if you wish, but he'll be there to protect you, not guard you. I'm told your parents are leaving early in the morning." "But..." Charlie felt a panic setting in. "I can't, sir! I can't leave tonight! I have to at least say good-bye to Larry, and the other guys! And the church group is coming tonight. Who's gonna play for them? Do I have to go tonight?" The superintendent looked curiously at Charlie. "I've got to tell you," he said with a sigh, "I've been in the corrections business for almost thirty years. I've heard every dodge, every excuse, every plea, to get OUT of prison! But I feel pretty safe in saying, you are the very first person I have ever heard beg to stay! Charlie, are you sure you are understanding what I'm telling you? You're free!" "I understand, sir. But, well sir, it isn't that simple. I've made friends, made a life here really. Those guys are my family. I have obligations. You told me yourself when I came here that I should make the best of it, and that's what I've tried to do. Now I can't just leave without so much as a word! Those guys... I mean I don't know if you've noticed it, but I think they're feeling better about themselves. I think we get along better now than we did, an' it's because we're good friends. Friends don't just leave, sir!" "Charlie, I don't know... If something were to happen to you tonight, there'd be hell to pay! You're no longer an inmate, you're a civilian! It would be like taking someone off the street and having them spend the night in prison. If you were to get hurt..." "I won't get hurt! I told you, those guys are my friends! I can't tell you how many times they've protected me without getting some of them in trouble, but believe me, nothing's gonna happen to me as long as those guys can help it. I'll sign a release, make a statement that I wanted to stay, anything! Please, Mr. Booth, don't make me go tonight!" The superintendent did have to agree that things had calmed down on the thirteenth floor. All the kids were doing better in school, there were far fewer disciplinary problems. Many of them were going with Charlie on Tuesday nights to the church meetings, and many of them were even contributing to discussions, singing, even volunteering to try to recruit new members. Those who needed it were participating in the drug rehabilitation program, without being nagged! The super also knew that all hell was going to break loose if Charlie simply disappeared. And now this kid was standing in front of him, volunteering to do what he didn't dare request that he do! How could he refuse? On the other hand, how could he accept? "Okay," he signed, "put the chains back on him while I get a release form typed up. He's still an inmate in every way until his family gets here." Back on the cell block, Charlie had a lot of trouble making his mates believe him. "No way!" they all said. "If you told me I could walk outa here you wouldn't see me for dust. What did he really want?" "I told ya," Charlie insisted, "I'm goin' home tomorrow! But they let me stay tonight so I could say good-bye to y'all, and make sure you have my phone number and address and all. I'm not gonna forget you, an' I don't want y'all to forget me." "Errr... Charlie..." Larry said as he put his arm on Charlie's shoulder, "there's something you're not understanding here, buddy. Those bars, they're for keeping people IN, not OUT. They don't LET us stay here, they MAKE us stay." The church meeting went off as expected: a giant celebration. The visiting church members had mixed feelings, but they were certainly pleased for Charlie. He offered to stay in town and go to Foothills with them Wednesday night, but they scoffed at the idea. "You get yourself home," they all said. "You've got a lot of catching up to do!" When Charlie and Larry were finally curled up in bed and the lights were out, Charlie kissed Larry lightly on the lips. "I'm gonna miss you, Larry," he said. "Not as much as I'm gonna miss you, ya puny lil white kid." "Promise you'll keep in touch?" "Charlie, I can't do that. You've lived in my world, and you know what a cess pool it is. You need to get back to your own world, your family, your life, and forget this nightmare." "I can't ever forget you, Larry! I don't even want to forget you! I love you, Larry! When you come up for parole..." "Never happen, Charlie. I'm in here for the duration." "But you said, you were sentenced before the law changed! You said that you could get paroled in as little as five years!" "If, Charlie! IF! Remember the word IF? IF I behave myself! IF my school grades are good. IF I get a recommendation from some of the inside staff." "But you ARE stayin' out of trouble! Your grades ARE coming up! You CAN get a recommendation, if you stick to it! They're already starting to be friendly to you. They like you, Larry!" "Maybe so, Charlie. But then there's the big IF. IF I have some place on the outside to go. IF I have someone who will vouch for me. They won't just release me back to the streets." "Uh-huh. So what's the problem, Larry? You've got that!" "Charlie, I couldn't... I mean... your parents..." "Promise you'll try, Larry? Promise you won't just quit after I leave? Promise you'll keep in touch? I'm comin' back, an' I want to see you when I do." "Charlie, they won't let you visit me!" "I bet they will. I bet I can talk Mr. Booth into it. An' if I can't, there's always the Tuesday night church group. I know they'll let me join that." Larry did promise to keep in touch, to work towards bettering himself and possibly being paroled one day. He wasn't terribly hopeful, but Charlie's positive attitude had rubbed off enough that he wasn't totally hopeless either. "Larry?" Charlie whispered as they began to doze off. "Yeah, Charlie?" "What you wanted to do... you know... like... Did you want to do it tonight?" "Charlie, I've dreamed of the time when you'd say yes. Are you saying yes?" "Yeah, Larry. I'd like you to. I want you to." "You're also a bad liar, Charlie. You've never done it before, have you?" "No, Larry. I told you, I was saving that for someone special. You're special, Larry." "Not that special. What about Andy?" "What about him? He's my brother." "He's a whole lot more than your brother, isn't he Charlie?" "Well, yeah, I guess so. At least we used to be. But he never..." "Then it's time he did. I'm not gonna take that away from you and him. There was a time when I'd a killed for the chance; but you, ya little frigger, you got me so mixed up inside I find myself actually thinking of others and how they feel. You messed me up good, Charlie! Now hold me tighter and go to sleep, before I change my mind." Charlie was barely finished his breakfast when he was again summoned to the ground floor. This time there were no stops on three; he had been instructed that he would not be chained, that he would be met at the elevator by an escort who would have a change of clothes for him. To his great surprise and pleasure, that escort was Sargent Brady, and the clothes he handed to Charlie in the men's washroom was a pair of khaki shorts, a bright red shirt, new white socks, and a new pair of white tennis shoes. Five minutes later he walked into the Superintendent's office, where the whole clan was waiting. After a half hour of some pretty intense emotion, Superintendent Booth finally got Charlie to sign some papers, then at Charlie's request he had the entire south wing of the thirteenth floor come down to the visitor lounge to meet Charlie's family. Charlie had wanted to take them all up to thirteen, but of course that was out of the question. There was another period of intense emotion. Andy looked deeply into Larry's eyes, searching; he didn't find the answer there he was looking for. Larry was determined, in a joking way, that they were going to leave Christopher behind. Charlie was just as determined they weren't. "You'll get me back before that happens," he stated firmly. "Maybe after seeing him, we don't want you back," Lennie Johnson suggested. "Let's not be too hasty," Larry was quick to say. "Have you taken a good look since he got out of prison brown's and into those shorts?" After another round of good-bye's, then the Conner family, including Billy, boarded their new van and headed east. On the six hour trip home, Charlie got filled in on what had happened. Carlo was in jail, as were Evan Turnbull and his entire legal team. Their trial was promising to be even shorter than Charlie's had been, what with the studio quality multi-media confession Andy had provided. Charlie sat listening, completely fascinated at all that had happened. He wasn't too fascinated, though, to notice Andy looking at him, watching his every move. The look in his eyes was pure unadulterated lustful hunger! But, Charlie supposed, his own eyes probably didn't look all that different. The family stopped at a large restaurant and had a good meal. Charlie couldn't get enough of his two little brothers, nor could he sit still in the crowded restaurant. He took Christopher and Paul outside where they rolled around on the grass, totally and completely happy to be together again. Then in a moment of quiet, Charlie said: "Can I talk to you guys for sec?" "Sure," they both answered, "what's up?" "Well..." Charlie stammered, "I was kinda wondering... like, Andy and Billy... they seem kinda close..." "Yeah, they are," Christopher answered, "they've got to be real good friends." "He doesn't mean that, Christopher!" Paul scolded. "Chris," the little boy corrected, "Could y'all please start calling me Chris?" "But we thought..." "Things change. My name's Chris, now that Charlie's back, ok?" "But what were you saying, Paul?" Charlie asked. "Yeah, about Billy and Andy. Billy asked me if Chris and I could sleep with him tonight. He said Andy had something pretty personal to talk to you about. I dunno if he thinks we're stupid and don't know what's going on or not. But it's all arranged, Charlie. You and Andy will be in your old room, an' we'll go into Billy's room." "You doin' ok, buddy?" Andy asked when they finally made their way up the stairs. It was after midnight, and all their neighbors for miles around had come to welcome Charlie home. Gina Ryan, Carlo Meoli's daughter, had stopped by to apologize on behalf of her father. She had told them that their contract was null and void because she was liquidating all his businesses, that their loan would be marked pain in full, and that they would be given a large cash settlement for their trouble. It was all in the contracts, she explained, and she wanted to do as much as she could to right the terrible wrongs her father had done. Of course the money Carlo had already put in an account in Italy for Charlie was already his and no one could do anything about that. In all, the Conners were coming out of this nightmare with a very nice sum of money. "I'm great, Andy," Charlie replied. "It's gonna take a little time to get used to not asking permission every time I need to take a leak, but I think I'll be ok. At least in a few minutes I will." Andy wondered what Charlie had meant by that remark, but he didn't have to wonder for very long. In record time they were in bed, naked, arms and legs in a spaghetti bowl tangle. Charlie had asked to stop at a store before they'd got home, then mysteriously asked if he could go in by himself, just because he was free to do so. He had come out with various treats for everyone, but now the real object of his errand became obvious. As he and Andy lay together in bed, he reached under his pillow and pulled out a small bottle. Before Andy knew what was happening, he was on his knees looking down at Charlie, who was lying on his back, legs in the air, looking up at him with a slight smile. Both were well lubricated in precisely the right places. "Please, Andy?" he begged, "please hurry before anything else happens?" Andy did hurry, but not so much so that he couldn't be careful and gentle. As he felt Charlie's tight sphincter give way and he started to slide in, both boys gasped. "You ok?" Andy whispered. "Yeah, man!" Charlie answered. He could feel, or at least he thought he could, every irregularity on the surface of the thing that was entering him; the thing that he had wanted for almost three years; the thing that was finally, irrevocably bonding Charlie and his brother forever. "I love you, Andy!" Charlie whispered as he felt Andy bottom out. "I love you too, lil brother!" Andy replied. Andy slid gently, very gently, in and out. Charlie felt no pain, only a fullness the likes of which he'd never felt before. And he felt fulfilled. This was far better than he had ever dreamed! He moaned softly, fought to keep his eyes open so he could look into Andy's eyes. Andy was looking down at him. He stopped in mid-stroke, leaned forward and the two lovers embraced and kissed. Before Andy could resume his rhythmic motion, he shuddered slightly and stiffened. Charlie felt a fluid flowing into him, and he too had an orgasm. Minutes later, they were lying in each other's arms. "Andy," Charlie said dreamily, "that was so totally awesome!" "For me too, Charlie. It was your first too, wasn't it?" "Course it was! You think I'd let anyone else do it and not tell you? I mean, you could get AIDS from me!" "For what I just had, that'd be a small price to pay. But really, I thought everyone did it in prison. I kinda assumed that you and Larry..." "I gotta confess, I refused Larry right up till last night, then I offered. I dunno why, but I did. But he said no, Andy. He said you were the rightful owner of that pleasure." "Guess I owe Larry for that too, huh?" It's been six months since Charlie was released from prison. The trials and legal haggling are all over now. Carlo Meoli is in Central Prison in Raleigh, along with some of his bribed officials. Evan Turnbull was disbarred, and he moved to California. His accomplices, Charlie's lawyers and two others who worked behind the scenes, were also disbarred. No one seems to know where they are. The Conner family is quite well off now, and all are committed to making the farm a complete success. When their contract with Carlo's company evaporated, Dennis decided to start his own company. He sells his peanuts and sweet potatoes around the world, and has even begun buying some of the crops his neighbors grow. Oh, and in response to Billy's suggestion, they are also starting to build a herd of beef cattle. Billy grins widely and says just because he's not in Texas doesn't mean he can't be a cowboy. Charlie hit the ground running when he was released from prison. He immediately started a musical group, this time comprised of members of the Conner family, and only members of the Conner family. Billy? Oh yeah, he was included. He is as much a Conner as anyone now. Billy confessed that he had been discouraged from pursuing any form of music from an early age, to which Charlie had responded simply "we'll see about that!" Now Billy is considered a full member of the Conner family band, and quite an accomplished singer. Their whole lives are not music, but they are in far more demand than they could possibly fulfill. They don't fool themselves or anyone else: Their primary objective, the thing that is more important than all others, is their farm. The music is great, and enjoyed by all; but the farm comes first. The harvest is done now for this year. There is still lots of work to do, but the pace is much slower. The entire family will be taking two weeks off in mid November and going to Italy. They have arranged to tour with Guido's choir again, which will give Charlie, Paul and Chris a chance to sing again with Guido's Boychoir. The name has been changed to reflect the more diverse members. Charlie makes no secret of his primary reason for wanting to go this year. He plans to stand in front of every audience they sing for and introduce a solo by his brother Paul, the boy who until a year ago couldn't sing! Andy is still undecided where to go to college. He has been accepted at Texas A&M, and of course Billy is encouraging him to go there; but that would mean being separated from Charlie again, and neither of them is ready for that just yet. They make no secret of their devotion to each other, and each credits the other fully that they can be together at all. Chris never did explain why suddenly his name could be shortened. He simply made that one solitary announcement on the grass beside a restaurant somewhere between Morganton and home, and that was the end of that. Christopher was dead, long live Chris! Larry is still in prison, but he is still hopeful. It is a long uphill road from a drug-crazed teenage killer to a responsible citizen whom society can trust. Larry understands that, and has made tremendous strides. He hopes to be transferred to a medium custody prison in Pender county after he turns 18, which occurs in January. That will be only an hour's drive from the Conner farm, and Charlie has already made it clear that when that happens, he will be a regular visitor on Sundays. Larry has friends on the inside now: a Lieutenant here, a psychologist there. He has the Conners' assurance that they will provide a place for him to live and a job if and when he gets out. In the meantime Larry busies himself bettering himself and helping others to learn the serenity that he now enjoys. Larry is working hard on his high school diploma now, and he is doing it the hard way: inside prison walls! When he finishes he will start working on his first year of college. Will he make it? In his mind, and in Charlie's, he already has! Guido was absolutely horrified when he learned what Carlo had done, especially since he, Guido, was to be the ultimate beneficiary! He even submitted himself to the scrutiny of the North Carolina State Police, willing if necessary to stand trial to make absolutely sure no one suspected him of any of these goings on. He was cleared and remains friends with the Conners, on condition that he not ever mention the word Castrati in their presence. There are five boys in the Conner family. Well, six if you count Larry, and Charlie certainly counts Larry. Every one of the five at home has had some sort of sexual involvement with all of the others. Still, none of them is quite sure of his sexual orientation. Charlie and Paul, of course, have very little physical sexual desire; they are as ready as the other three, though, to express their love in a sexual way. Paul and Chris tend to gravitate to each other, as do Andy and Charlie. All four brothers are not above wandering into Billy's room, either alone or in pairs. Billy has yet to turn any of them away. Billy, Andy and Charlie have all had girl friends here and there. There has been nothing permanent, but the future is still wide open. At this point in their lives, the only thing that is permanent, irrevokable, is their love, their devotion and dedication to each other. It would be unfair to say that life has returned to normal in the Conner household; there is simply no earthly way a family as diverse as the Conner's and all that they have experienced can live a "normal" life. And just to prove it, Karen has gone and got herself pregnant! (Well, to be fair, she didn't really get herself pregnant, but she's very, very pregnant). This coming April, the Conner family is going to embark on a completely new, uncharted adventure: Karen is going to have TWINS! GIRLS! * * * This marks the end of the Andy-Revised series. I want to thank everyone for your patience while I reposted that last eleven chapters; as I stated at the outset, this was necessary for the follow-on story I have planned. The new story will not start right away because I am still working on a short Christmas story that I had planned to finish by now, but it has been so well received I am continuing it. When I do start the sequel to Andy, it will more than likely be in the same section (young friends), and will probably name both Christopher and Paul in the name. Until then, happy reading! 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.