Date: Sat, 23 Oct 1999 08:37:23 -0400
From: Charlie <charlieje@mindspring.com>
Subject: Andy 8

When I started this story I promised that there would be no explicit sex
descriptions, and I plan to keep that promise. Hopefully I have portrayed
the characters so far as having nothing but honorable intentions. But
honorable or not, we are talking about two active, healthy boys here, one
with raging hormones and the other on the verge or adolescence. Add to
that the fact that they love each other intensely, and things are bound to
happen. Here, then, is Part 8.

As I stated previously, this story is pure fiction, based partly on experiences
I have either had or witnessed. Any reference to real persons alive or dead
is unintentional and coincidental.

               VIII Charlie's Plan

The days literally flew by. Andy had never known such happiness. Work on
the farm was hard - harder than he had ever imagined! But it was fun, and
it seemed that every day he was there he learned something new. The
Conners had thrown a birthday party for him, his first in many years. As
good as it was, it was still paled in significance by the thing he'd never
dreamed he would get this summer: his drivers license. And then there was
Charlie, that adorable little adonis wearing a diaper and boxer shorts, and
showing every indication that he loved Andy as much as Andy loved him.

Charlie had performances with the quartet almost every week throughout
the summer. Sometimes it was filling in for an absent choir, sometimes a
Saturday night concert. Andy attended them all, and never ceased to be
amazed and thrilled at the range, the extent of their control, their
versatility. Of course his eyes and ears were focused mainly on Charlie, but
he also recognized that all the other members of the troup were very
talented as well. There was a review published in one of the local gospel
music magazines where Adrian, their lead singer and founder of the group,
was interviewed. Most of the interview concerned their tenor, Charlie.

There was no question, Adrian said, of Charlie's talent. He was, Adrian
agreed, one of the most gifted singers he had ever heard. "But," he pointed
out, "That's not his greatest contribution to the group. What sets Charlie
apart from everyone else," he said, "Is his enthusiasm. Charlie is our little
spark plug. He demands nothing less than perfection from himself, but he
does it in such a way that all of us feel obligated to give that little extra.
Charlie inspires us!"

Well, that's how things went for the first few weeks. Andy had never
considered himself anything even remotely close to a critic, but then he
started noticing a difference. Charlie's voice could top the high's, master
the low's, with as much ease as ever, but it was different. The spark was
gone. As time went on it grew worse. Andy never heard a sour note, never
detected a wrong move nor a missed cue; but he knew that something was
not right. The others did too, but no one said anything because no one had
the vaguest idea what it was, nor how to describe it.

There was something else about those concerts that made Andy
uncomfortable. There was always a white limousine parked nearby. It had
become an obsession with Andy. At the close of each concert, and
sometimes even before it ended, he would make his way outside. It was
always there!

Charlie had done the research concerning Mr. Meoli's castrati, and had
shocked Andy to his very toes with what he had found. "Two or three
hundred years ago," he explained, "They used to castrate young boys
before their voice changed so they could always sing soprano. When the
boys grew up their voices got stronger but stayed high, sorta like a
woman's voice. Those men were called castrati, plural for castrato."

"But why?" an astonished Andy asked. "If they wanted a woman's voice,
why didn't they just get a woman?"
"Because," Charlie explained patiently, "The church had forbidden women
to perform in public. That's how it started, but then the castrati became
popular because even though their voices were high, they were also
distinctive... different in quality from either a boy's or a woman's."
"That's totally barbaric!"
"Not necessarily." Charlie mused. "Most of the boys were homeless, or
from very poor families. They had a much better life singing in opera or in
the church than they would've had otherwise. Of course there were
exceptions, but for the most part they were kids who had a good voice but
really nothing else going for them."

Andy unconsciously crossed his legs. He realized instantly that had he lived
during that time, he would have been a prime candidate for the knife. That
was him: throw-away kid, homeless, nothing going for him. As for a voice,
Andy truly did not know if he had a good one or not. He had sung little
songs in school, but only because everyone else was singing them too.
He'd never had any interest in music, had never realized until this summer
what a beautiful instrument the human voice is.

The image of Carlo Meoli popped uninvited into Andy's mind. Could he
possibly... He had been the one to mention castrati in the first place. Was it
possible that he was stalking Charlie? In Andy's mind people who were
rich enough to drive around in a chauffeured limousine were powerful
enough to do just about anything they wanted to do, including have people
killed.... or... or CASTRATED! "Well, Signor Meoli," he uttered under his
breath, "You're gonna have to go through me!"

Before they knew it, it was the middle of July, and Charlie's birthday. "So
you're gonna be 12 tomorrow!" Andy commented as he helped Charlie get
ready for bed.
"Yeah," Charlie said distantly, "Twelve years old and still in diapers."
"But I thought you liked them."
"I do. That's the problem. I shouldn't like them, but I do. I've got so I
don't even feel right unless I'm wearin' 'em. That's kinda sick, don't ya
think?"
"Not at all. They're your friends, Charlie. Long as you have your problem,
you could never move around like you do without something to keep you
from wetting all over the place."
"I know, but it'd be so nice to once in a while go without. I wouldn't mind
sleeping in them if I could leave them home in the day time."

Andy was gently manipulating Charlie's jewels, trying to determine how
bad the pain had become. This process was so routine now that neither of
them really thought about it, they just did it. While Andy combined his
powdering task with the investigation, watching Charlie's face for painful
reaction and making sure there were no changes in physical size or shape,
presence of lumps, etc, Charlie had learned to mask any pain he felt. He lay
on the bed, or his changing table, and looked up at Andy, braced to avoid
reacting should Andy strike a tender spot.

"Ok, lil buddy," he said cheerfully as he snapped the plastic pants in place,
"You're done for tonight. It's gettin' late, so I'd better get goin' to my
own room and get some sleep."
"Please don't, Andy." Charlie pleaded.
"Charlie, I haven't slept in my own bed for weeks! People are gonna talk."
"So let 'em talk! You're only gonna be here another three weeks, and I
wanna talk to you."

Charlie had an irresistible hold on Andy now. He could have asked
anything and be assured he'd get his request. "Ok," Andy said as he
crawled in, "What's so important that it can't wait till tomorrow?"
"I... uh... I had a big fight with Mom and Dad today, Andy. It happened
while you were taking that load of melons to the market."
"A fight? But you and your folks... I mean, y'all never fight!"
"We did today, big time! I suddenly realized that you only have a short
time left, and I don't want you to go."
"I don't want to go either, Charlie. But I have to."
"That's what Mom said. But why?"
"Charlie, I don't belong here! You're a family, all together, loving, caring.
You got a history, ancestors, a legacy; an' I'm... I'm..."
"You're what? A foster child? An orphan? A homeless kid? Shit, man,
haven't you ever heard of adoption?"

Andy felt lightheaded. Could this kid he'd got so attached to really believe
that he, Andy, could be a permanent part of this family? That was
preposterous! They were so close, worked so well together. And Andy
was... well, what was he? Aside from being helplessly in love with Charlie,
he didn't know any more what he was. He had never tried, nor for that
matter even thought about, anything sexual with his young friend. Indeed
he had handled and manipulated those tiny genitals several times a day all
summer, and neither of them had ever had an erection! His efforts, his
manipulations, had been totally out of love and devotion. But there was no
denying he loved this little kid. To be his brother would be the answer to
the wildest of fantasies, but that's what it was, a fantasy! Or was it?

"I guess you know that I usually get my own way around here," Charlie
was saying, "If it makes sense at all."
"Yeah, I know." Andy answered, "But most of what you want does make
sense."
"I know that, Andy. That's what I told my folks. I know I'm blessed with a
good brain, and I'm not gonna back away from that. What's the use in
having a higher than average intelligence if you don't use it? So I told them
that adopting you DOES make sense! Mom and Dad really like you, you're
the best thing that ever happened to this old farm, and... and..."
Charlie got up on one elbow and looked Andy squarely in the eyes, those
bright blue eyes of his burning Andy like never before. They were about to
overflow with tears, but Charlie's sheer will was holding them back.
"You're the best thing that ever happened to me too, Andy. There, I've
said it."

Andy was floored! Charlie was affectionate, had a good command of the
English language, could work people to get what he wanted; but Charlie
seldom if ever did or said anything to make himself vulnerable. But he had
just laid himself wide open, put himself totally on the defensive, expressed
a sentiment Andy never expected. What had Charlie just said to him? Oh,
he had heard the words loud and clear; but what had Charlie really said?
What was he to Charlie? A big brother to replace the one he had lost? A
willing student to a great teacher? Someone to be impressed by his many
talents? A new toy? Something else?

"Charlie!" Andy said tenderly as he stroked the silky smooth chest of the
boy he worshiped, "I... I don't know what to say. I think you're the
greatest guy I've ever known, and you've been so good to me this summer.
But... well... I guess I don't really understand why you feel that way about
me. Why would you..."
"There doesn't have to be a reason." Charlie interrupted, "I just... I just feel
that way. I can't let you go, Andy. I just can't!" He didn't say any more
because he had started to cry uncontrollably.

"Dad's gonna call Mr. Gigniac in the morning." Charlie said when he'd
regained control of his voice, "He's gonna ask if there is any way you can
stay here and go to school. But Dad said it kinda depends on you, Andy.
You gotta say yes, that's what you want, or it'll be no use at all. Is it,
Andy? Do you want to stay?"

Andy didn't know what to say. Both his hands were roaming now,
treasuring, relishing, worshiping the small immature and so incredibly
beautiful body they were touching. But his defenses were up too. How
could he spend time here? How could he spend an entire school year here,
making little or no money, doing nothing to prepare himself for a life
alone? How could he get himself even more involved in this wonderful
family than he already was? How could he set himself up for an even bigger
disappointment than was already looming? "I... I just don't know, Charlie."
he said, "I've had such a good time this summer. I've loved every minute
with you, and I've learned more from you than I ever thought I'd learn in a
lifetime. You've given me the drive, the inspiration, to go on. Thanks to
you I'm gonna finish school and go to college, one way or another. But
maybe it's time I got on with my life. Maybe it's time I made plans that
don't include you."
"Please don't!" Charlie answered. "Please, don't leave! Please don't forget
me. Don't tell yourself you can live without me.

"I know what you think of me, Andy, but you're wrong! You're dead
wrong!"
'What do ya mean by that?" Andy demanded. His guard was up again,
having no idea what Charlie was talking about.
"I mean," Charlie said, "You think of me as some kind of super kid.
Everyone does. Everyone thinks I can handle anything! I can fix anything, I
can come home with straight A's. I can sing with a bunch of grown men
and out-sing them all. But I get so tired, Andy! I get so tired always being
the kid who can do anything! I get so tired of being the miracle child! It
isn't enough, Andy! Or maybe it's too much. All I want... all I want is to be
a kid; a normal, mischievous, fuck-up once in a while kid! I need you,
Andy! I need to know that you need me, and I need a big brother!

"I could never live without you, Charlie. I might be back in Atlanta in a few
weeks, but I could never forget you. I love you, lil brother, and you will
always be a part of me! But isn't it enough to know you've given me hope?
Isn't it enough that you've shown me that I can do anything I try, as long
as I try with all my heart? Isn't it enough that you've given me back my
life?"
"No! It isn't enough! I'm glad you feel that way, but I need you! Don't you
owe me for all those things you say I've given you? Doesn't it mean
anything that my heart is breaking? Don't you care that... that I love you?"

Charlie's arms had worked their way around Andy's neck and were
squeezing almost to the point of pain. Andy, meanwhile, was holding
Charlie no less tightly. "Ok," he whispered, "We'll see what Mr. Gigniac
says. If there's any way I can stay, I will. I love you too Charlie."
"You mean it?" Charlie practically screamed as he sat bolt upright in bed.
"You mean you want to stay? Please don't say it just 'cause that's what I
want to hear. Please say you really want to stay."

"I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true, Charlie." Andy answered, "I thought
you knew me well enough for that. Of course I want to stay! I want to be
your big brother! I want to change your diapers, and some day see you go
without them. I want to help find out what is causing all that pain. I want
to see the day when that pain is gone! I want to take care of you! But I
don't want to disappoint either one of us more than I have to. I have to
look at reality; and reality is that I probably can't stay indefinitely. Reality
is we come from different worlds, and sooner or later we have to go back
to our own worlds."

"I don't believe that!" Charlie declared, "And I'm gonna prove it to you.
I'm gonna prove that we don't come from different worlds at all. We
started that way, but that has nothing to do with where we belong."
"Well," Andy replied, "If you're gonna set out to prove I belong here, I
better get used to getting up at 4:30, 'cause I've never seen you fail at
anything you've tried yet."
"You better believe it!" Charlie answered, "And now isn't the time to start,
so get used to it!"

"Charlie," Andy said after they'd been quiet a few minutes, "I'd... I'd better
go to my own room."
"Please don't, Andy." Charlie answered.
"But Charlie... what I've been doing, and what you've been doing... our
hands... it's kinda starting something I'm not sure we're ready for..."
"Andy, please don't go..." A diaper pin snapped open, but not by itself.
Charlie tightened his embrace and kissed Andy on the neck. The other pin
popped.
"Charlie... I've never done anything like this before... I'm not sure it's
right, Charlie. I'd better go..."
"Please don't..."

                *       *       *

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