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XXXI Hormones When Charlie's butt was invaded by the hypodermic needle that released a low dose of testosterone into his body, the effect was almost instant. It was as if his vocal cords, his libido, his sexuality and all the other turmoil that we call puberty had been imprisoned, straining at the chains that held them. The hormone coursing through his body dissolved those chains and released the demons of adolescence. Charlie became irritable and moody; he simply could not get enough to eat, and the more he ate the thinner he got. He complained that he was walking around with a perpetual erection, and that part of his body commenced growing with a new vigor. Pubic hair began to appear. He started crying at almost everything. In a short time the faint shadow of a mustache began to appear on his upper lip. He was really beginning to wonder if he'd made the right decision when he suffered the final blow: within a month, long before he had adequately prepared himself, his voice cracked. It was only a week after his release from prison that Charlie found himself in Dr. Lear's office getting a thorough checkup. The doctor had declared him in perfect health and offered to start him on hormone injections. "It seems there's no need for growth hormones," he said. "Your body seems to have recovered that deficiency on its own. It appears you'll always be a bit smaller than normal, but you are growing so I think we should leave well enough alone. But if you want to develop any more sexually, we should begin testosterone injections. The longer you put it off, the harder it will be." Charlie had agreed, and the doctor had given him his first shot then and there. Then he gave Karen a vial and a supply of needles, telling her to give him a shot every two weeks. The entire family had got into the practice of singing and playing every evening after supper. They all loved it and looked forward to it all day. But then Charlie's voice went totally out of control so that he never knew when he opened his mouth if it would emit the high pure tone of a child, a low bass note to rival that of Wade's, or something in between. So Charlie stopped singing. He still played the piano and worked at the guitar, but he wouldn't, couldn't he said, try to sing. Paul had also requested the hormone shots, but Dr. Lear answered that he was a little too young. Because of Charlie and his problems, the doctor had done some profiling. He studied average hormone levels of adolescent boys and determined that the flow typically started at twelve years old. So a compromise was reached: Paul would get his first shot, a very low dose, the day he turned twelve. Paul's twelfth birthday came in late April. A lot of everyone's attention had been on the spring planting and on supporting Charlie during his difficult time, but today was Paul's day. It was a Thursday, the busy spring season was almost over, so Dennis had declared Friday a day off so they could all stay up late Thursday night. It was certainly a memorable party for Paul, reminiscent of the days before his family was massacred in front of him. He got literally stacks of clothes which he sorely needed; a computer with a color printer for doing his school work; but the most special gift of all came from Charlie, and it was one Charlie hadn't even planned. "I didn't have any idea what to get ya, Paul," Charlie apologized. "I knew you wanted those work boots and I guess you needed 'em, but I wanted to get you something really cool." "Maybe you can," Paul answered. "Do you think... would you mind sleeping with Christopher tonight?" The boys' bedrooms had been rearranged and new furniture bought so that they were permanently housed two to a room: Andy and Charlie in one, Paul and Christopher in the other. It had been their own idea to split up that way, but tonight Paul seemed interested in collecting on a promise he'd got from Charlie, subject to Andy's agreement, before they'd left Italy. Charlie thought for a minute, felt a few pangs of envy, but said nothing and agreed. So when they finally decided to go to bed at a little after midnight, Paul's first stop was Karen's bedroom where he bared his butt so she could inject him, then he knocked on Andy's and Charlie's door. Charlie was in talking with Christopher as they had planned. "Hey, birthday boy!" Andy greeted him cheerfully, "C'mon in! Charlie's in your room talkin' to Christopher. Get your shot already?" "Uh-huh. Andy...." Paul said tentatively as he closed the door behind him, "Can I sleep in here tonight? Charlie said it was all right if you didn't mind." "Hey, no problem! Do you want to sleep in Charlie's bed, or..." "Yours looks more comfortable." "Andy?" Paul's voice said when they were settled with the light out, "Have I made a mistake? I mean, it's not too late is it?" "You mean the adoption? You wanna go back to Italy?" "No, not that! Man, it's really great livin' here, having a family, and three great brothers! No, I mean... well... the hormones. I'm kinda scared. Charlie has been havin' a pretty rough time, and I would never tell him this but his voice is a mess! I don't think I could stand to lose my singing after I just learned how. I just don't think I could stand it!" "Charlie's voice'll come back, even better'n before. It's just that while it's changing it's hard to control. But I think already he's starting to get it back. Yours will too, Paul. We guys all have to go through it, but it's not too bad really." "So you don't think I made a mistake startin' the shots?" "Good heavens no, Paul! An' it might help you forget... well... all that's happened to you. You'll like it, I promise. You can never replace what you lost but you can come close, at least in how you look and how you sound. An' if you never sing another note after tonight, everyone's still gonna love you anyway. That's what Charlie was tryin' to say when he decided that choir wasn't for him. We love to sing here, but it's not required to be loved. There are no conditions on love here. Everyone just loves everyone else just 'cause we do." "But Charlie... what it's doin' to him. He was always so cheerful, so sweet. An' now we never know when something's gonna set him off. I always wanted to be just like him and you. You were so happy, but Charlie's not happy any more. If hormones do that to him I don't want them!" "Charlie'll get over it, Paul. Everyone goes through that a little, some guys seem to be bothered more than others. But he'll get over it. Tell ya what... I gotta go tell Charlie something, then I'll come back. You stay right here, ok? I'll be right back." Andy tiptoed next door and tapped lightly on the door. When he opened it he saw four bright eyes looking at him in the moonlight that was streaming into the room. He noticed that their owners were in separate beds: Christopher in his own and Charlie in Paul's. "Charlie," he whispered, "come here please? There's something I gotta tell ya." "Can't it wait till morning?" Charlie answered grumpily. "It's late." "Now, Charlie!" "What's so important it couldn't wait?" Charlie asked when they were seated on the front porch, clad only in their boxers. "You, Charlie! We gotta talk about you and what you're goin' through." "There's not much to talk about, Andy. I made a mistake, but I gotta live with it. Dr. Lear said it's probably too late to stop it now and he doesn't want me to try anyway, so I gotta live with it. He told me I could stop after a year or so, but he said if I stop now there's no tellin' what might happen. If only I'd known..." Andy noticed a tear glint in the moonlight. "Charlie," he said as he wrapped his arms around him, "you're not the first boy to ever have a tough time getting through puberty. Damn, bro, I came so close to killing myself it scares me to think about it." "You? But when you came here you were always so nice! You seemed so happy. I never noticed..." "If you think back, Charlie, when I first came here you were so happy yourself you couldn't see unhappiness or trouble if it slapped you in the face." "I think it kinda did slap me in the face." "Yes, it did. You had more trouble in one year than most kids ever have in their whole lives. But you took it all and thumbed your nose at it. And now you're letting a little thing like puberty get the best of you." "But your voice.... you weren't singing, you didn't care..." "This isn't about voices, Charlie, this is about being who you are. Your voice will come back. I thought you knew that. But this isn't about that at all. Your body is all confused. Maybe it's worse with you 'cause first you had hormones, then you didn't, now you do again. I dunno if that's it or you're just one of those kids who have a rough time. But you have to know what you're doing." "Doin' to whom? I dunno what you mean." "Paul, Charlie. An' probably Christopher too. You got Paul terrified of what he's gonna go through." "Maybe that's good. Maybe he should consider the whole thing again. I mean, I don't even feel like I'm me any more. I know I get bitchy and snap at everybody but I can't seem to help it. Maybe it's not to late for Paul to just be content with bein' a eunuch." "You're still you, Charlie. You're still the great kid you always were. If you'd let yourself, you'd still love cuddling with Mom, and I know she'd like that. You're having a rough time, but you have to know that we all still love you. You've gotta know that Mom and Dad haven't changed, and you always relied on them before, and they never let you down. You say some pretty hurtin' things sometimes but we let them slide 'cause we love you. But Paul and Christopher, they don't have that kind of security. If you recall they were pretty unsure of themselves before, and they need all the encouragement they can get. They worship you, Charlie! Paul told me tonight that he wanted to be just like you, or at least like how you used to be. You gotta snap out of it, Charlie! You gotta do it for you, but you gotta do it for them too." "But what can I do?" Charlie asked. "I can't help the way I feel. It's like everything is magnified. Mom says no I can't do this or that, and I feel like she hates me an' won't let me do anything. I know better, but that's the way I feel. Dad says that he wants me to go a little lighter on fertilizer, and I feel like I can't do anything right any more." "It'll pass, Charlie. But I got a few ideas what you can do. First off, when you go back to bed, get in bed with Christopher. He needs to know you still care about him. He's probably afraid to ask you 'cause you're so irritable he doesn't want to upset you." "But soon as I come close to him I'll have a big hard on! That's become a real problem too." "So what? You think he's never seen one before?" "But he's only eight!" "I didn't say you had to do anything, but on the other hand if he wants to fool around a little I don't see the harm. I'd be very surprised if he and Paul haven't done it already. "The next thing you can do is, when we go upstairs, come into my room and talk to Paul. Tell him you know that you've been pretty miserable, but that doesn't mean that he will be. And tell him you understand that you'll get over it soon as your body adjusts. Tell him that every man in the world has gone through it and if they can do it so can you; and so can Paul. He needs to hear that from you, lil bro!" "But how... how do I know I won't be the same way again tomorrow?" "You probably will be. I kinda hope that talkin' it out like this will help, but it's not magic. This is just a rough time you gotta get through and you have to ride it out. But don't shut us out. Mom and Dad understand and they're tryin' so hard to be understanding. When you're in a good mood let them know you hate those times when you hurt them. It'll help them to help you. And let us love you, Charlie. Let yourself feel our love and quit slamming the door shut in our faces. We're all still here, Charlie. "Oh yeah, there's one more thing you can do. You can start singing again. Your voice is gonna crack and groan, but laugh at it! We all wanna laugh when your voice cracks, but we don't dare! But we're not laughing AT you, we're laughing WITH you! There's nothing you can do about it, but you can beat it, same as you've beaten everything else you've been through. Charlie, if you only knew how hard it is for me to have this conversation with you! You, the kid who can do anything, who takes problems and attacks them, no matter what! I admire your strength so much, but this seems totally beyond you. It's just not like you, Charlie! Just think of all we've been through together in the short time I've been here. And it's always been YOUR strength that's got us through! You, Charlie! You can't let this beat ya! You gotta believe it'll pass. And you gotta support Paul and Chris. They need ya, Charlie. They know you better than they know me, and the Charlie they're seeing now is not the Charlie they met in Italy. It's confusing them." By the time they made their way back upstairs, both Andy and Charlie had shed a few tears. Charlie went in and spoke to Paul, then Chris. He told the little boy that he was so very fortunate that he didn't have to make a decision to take hormones, that they were built in. He said, without knowing if he was right or not, "Your body makes its own and has a built in regulator. It should be easier for you. But even if it isn't, just remember we're all here and we all love you. Now for heaven's sake get your butt outa that bed and into mine! Please?" "You... you want me to?" "Uh-huh. Unless of course you don't want to." "Thanks, Andy." Paul said after they'd all settled down again. "I don't know what you said to Charlie, but he made me feel a lot better." "Thank YOU!" Andy answered. "Here I thought you came here tonight 'cause you wanted to... well, fool around." "I did, but I guess that other thing was on my mind." "You DID? Past tense?" "No, you idiot!" Paul giggled. "PRESENT tense! Do I have to make all the moves here?" "Uhhh no lil bro, ya don't. You did have to start the ball rolling but you just did that. I just hope you're ready for a big time rolling ball." "If it's as big as these two," Paul said as he explored, "guess I'm in for a bit of a time." "You know it, lil brother!" Charlie's demeanor improved greatly after his talk with Andy, sitting on the front porch in their boxers in the middle of the night. He still wasn't his old self, but everyone understood why and made allowances. Charlie, to his credit, would always apologize after he'd flown off the handle, and that in itself helped him to think a little more before he spoke. But still his voice stubbornly refused to do his bidding. The family gatherings around the piano had become as regular as eating. Paul's singing had improved greatly. He had received three years of the best musical training in Italy, could read music and play flawlessly; now that he understood harmony and could hear it, he could soon sing as though he'd always done it. Little Christopher needed no coaching. His voice was high enough to shatter glass and powerful enough to fill the largest hall. He too had benefitted from Guido's teaching and could play surprisingly well for his age. Andy still couldn't read music, but he was learning fast; in the meantime he used his ears to find the right note, which some say is preferable anyway. So Charlie was feeling like more one of a group rather than a star, which was something of a relief for him. Now if he could just get his voice to behave. It was early May, and the family had gathered around the piano as usual. Charlie was playing the guitar, Karen the piano, Billy a set of drums he'd bought and was learning very quickly. Chris, to everyone's surprise, had told them he'd learned to play the violin in Italy so they had bought him one. He played very well, but his playing style was not what one would normally hear in a southern country band. No matter though, he was having fun and learning fast. The entire family were going to go public in a small way, once they got some of the kinks out of their music. The band and singers were to be called simply "The Conner Family." Karen asked Charlie to do a solo with the others harmonizing. He started to sing and was doing not too badly until he encountered an extra high note. He aimed at it, but missed it by a mile. Instead of the melodious tone he'd expected, out came a very discordant croak! Christopher stifled a giggle, but not before Charlie heard it. He started to cry. "It's no use, Mom!" he moaned. "I just can't sing any more." "Yes you can, Charlie, and I'm not gonna let you give up." "But Mom, you just heard it. What if I do that in front of a crowd?" "Charlie," Karen said, "remember the time we poured that concrete pad for hay storage?" "Yes, I remember. But what does that have to do with my voice?" "Remember what happened when you tried to run that power smoothing machine thingy?" "Yeah," he grinned. "How could I forget? That thing flew across the floor with me holding on and crashed off the edge. It like to killed me!" "Do you remember what your dad said? About why it happened?" "Yeah, he told me not to try and force it, but to work with it and steer it." "Remember the time you screwed up Ole John's steering?" "Yes, ma'am. But I don't see how..." "What happened, Charlie?" "Mom, this is embarrassing. You know what happened. I was only ten and I didn't know..." "Yes, I know, but your brothers don't. Maybe you can prevent the same thing from happening again, so why don't you tell them?" "Well, I was hauling a load of manure back to the back field. We'd had a lot of rain and there were big ruts in the road. Ole John dropped a front wheel into one of those ruts, an' I tried to steer out of it. The wheel kept climbing partway out and falling back in, so I cut it all the way so it was almost crosswise to the tractor. Then the wheel dug into the dirt and buried itself, and the tractor kept on going and bent the main shaft in the steering box. We were almost two weeks getting it fixed." "Why, Charlie? Why did that happen?" "I tried to force it. Dad said if I had just slowed down and let the wheel go in the rut, I coulda ridden it out. If I hadn't forced... I tried to force... FORCE???" "Now you're getting the idea! Your voice is like that power screed, Charlie. Or like Ole John's front wheel. You tried to force them to do something they weren't designed to do and you saw what happened. Now you're trying to force your voice to do something it can no longer do. What happens when you try to lead a bull faster than he wants to go?" "He stops and digs his heels in and won't go anywhere." "What happens when you lead him at his own pace and just guide him?" "He... he does what I want!" "Do that with your voice, Charlie. Guide it, don't force it. You'll hit those notes again, but it'll take time. Your little boy voice is gone forever, but that doesn't mean your new one can't be as beautiful. And if you try to force it you'll do more harm than good. Guide it, do your vocal exercises faithfully, be kind to it and it'll be nice to you. Now, let's try that solo again. If you think you can't hit that high note you probably can't, so pick another one that harmonizes. You can drop an octave, pick a triad lower, whatever you think sounds good. If it doesn't, well, that's what practices are for, to find out things like that. If we could all sing and play perfectly the first time there wouldn't be any need for practice. So let's try it again, ok?" "Man, your mom is somethin'!" Paul said as he and Charlie got ready for bed. He had been sleeping with Andy for almost two weeks, then Andy and Charlie had switched. "OUR mom!" Charlie corrected. "Yeah, she is somethin', isn't she?" "She is so tough, so demanding! I never worked this hard for Signore Guido, and I thought he was a slave driver. But she makes it fun! Like taking that time you messed up the tractor and using it to show you how to sing. Who'd ever thought..." "She's done that my whole life, Paul, and so has Dad. Sometimes they teach me something and I don't even realize I'm learning. They're awesome!" "You can say that again." "Ok," Charlie grinned, "They're AWESOME!" It was a little later in May, Friday afternoon, when the black Lincoln Town Car pulled into the yard. Out stepped Guido and a young man. Guido had come unexpectedly from Italy, and had brought Angelo, one of the senior members of his school with him. Paul and Charlie came running to greet them, followed by the rest of the family minus Christopher. As everyone was embracing each other warmly, Guido began to ask where he was when Ole John came lumbering in from the back field with Christopher at the wheel. Andy's mind went back to the first time he'd seen Charlie. To further enhance the memory Christopher was wearing the same style shortalls that Charlie had always worn. All the boys wore them now. He felt a pang of regret that those times were gone forever, then Karen's words to Charlie came to him: "Memories can destroy you, or they can be a weapon in your hands against sadness and regret. It's up to you." And he knew that those memories were the foundation of what was now his family. "Signore Guido!" Christopher screamed as he shut down the old tractor and literally flew off the seat, across the yard, and embraced his friend and former guardian. "Christopher!" Guido exclaimed. "My not-so-little-any-more little one! How I've missed you!" "Signore Guido," Christopher said, "there's so much happened. Wait'll you hear Paul sing!" As he always did when he was excited, the little boy had switched to Italian and went on describing his new life, the band they were starting, how Charlie's voice had changed, the planting, how he'd adopted Ole John as his own, Andy's truck, his new violin, and on and on. "English!" Guido said laughing. "Slow down and speak English, Christopher! Remember your manners!" "It's all right," Dennis laughed. "Those two have been teaching all of us Italian. We're not fluent yet by any means, but we're not bad if I do say so myself." "Yeah," Paul added. "And we've learned to sing some gospel music in Italian. I know you'll love it, Signore." "Paul?" Guido questioned, "Singing?" "Like an angel," Karen said proudly. "The boys taught him on the flight over." "You too, Mom," Andy said. "But how? He had no ear at all!" "Come on in, Dennis said. "We'll tell you all about it over dinner." "After dinner," Dennis told Guido as they began clearing the dishes, "we usually sing for an hour or so. You're welcome to join us if you'd like." "I'm counting on it, Dennis. But first I must apologize for Carlo. I assure you I had no idea what he was up to. I would never be a party to such a thing! Actually that's why I'm here now. The State police wanted to interview me to determine my part in the whole scheme. I must say, I was so shocked when I heard about Charlie's arrest I simply could not believe what they were saying about him!" "That's all water under the bridge now," Dennis said. "We were all sorry that Charlie had to go through all that, but it's straightened out now. Fortunately Charlie and the rest of us are none the worse for the experience; but I was very relieved and pleased that you had nothing to do with it." "Let's just forget about it, ok?" Charlie said. And so they did what amounted to their first concert. Chris's voice was its usual crystal clear; Paul sang the best he'd ever sung, including duets with Andy and Dennis. Charlie was starting to get his vocal control back, his mellow tenor voice still able to reach dizzying heights once he'd learned its limitations. Guido was suitably impressed - so much so that he said that they absolutely must come to Italy and sing for his school. He even suggested that they could do a concert tour while they were in Italy. "That would cost a fortune," Dennis argued. "We have no sound equipment, we need instruments, costumes... we're not nearly ready for performing publicly yet." "That can all be taken care of," Guido said, "and the profits will more than pay the bill. But I have a proposition that will pretty well pay for all your equipment without leaving North Carolina, if you're interested." The entire family was indeed interested. "Before Carlo was arrested," Guido explained, "he was working on promoting a July 4th concert at the arena in Wilmington. His daughter has asked me to continue the promotion since her father had already spent a fortune on the preparations. I have agreed, but I need a feature act. It won't pay what you're worth, but it'll give you a large audience and I suspect your talent will do the rest." "July 4?" Karen said. "But that's just a little over a month away. I don't know if we could be ready." "I've seen what you can do, Karen," Guido said. "And I have no doubt you could be ready next week if you had to, especially after seeing what you've done with Paul in such a short time." "But I don't know..." Karen said. "We've been trying to keep the pressure off the boys, and we've all been working pretty hard. They've had such a busy year already. I just don't know if it would be wise." All eyes turned to Charlie. He was the one who had turned down a "chance of a lifetime" not once, but twice! He had stated very clearly that he didn't want a life in show business; but yet when he was on stage he thoroughly enjoyed himself. He felt the eyes on him and understood. The answer would be no if he didn't agree and he knew it. But what would it be if he said yes? He looked at Andy. No help there. He looked at his father. There he saw beaming pride. Karen's face showed the loving concern of a mother. Billy appeared neutral. Paul showed signs of sheer panic, but at the same time an enthusiasm that said he'd be willing to give it a shot. Christopher. Oh, little Christopher! The American with an Italian accent and a voice to die for; the little boy who could say volumes with only a facial expression. In Chris's face he found his answer and couldn't back away from it. There he found no fear, no reservations, no doubts. There he saw the innocent confidence of a child who, if loved enough, could conquer the world. He remembered the first time he'd ever been on a stage. He had been petrified with fear, but so pumped with adrenalin he ignored all else including his fright. He saw all that in Christopher's face as if it were written there in black ink. "You're gonna love it!" he said to his little brother. "Singing on a country stage is so different from the choir in Italy. Everyone is screaming, the music is so loud it's about to bust your head wide open, the lights cook you alive... Man, you're a natural and you're gonna love it!" "Can I take that as a yes?" Guido asked. "Let's vote on it," Dennis suggested. They did, and it was unanimous. There is no doubt that all present were influenced by Charlie's enthusiastic response and Christopher's obvious excitement. So they had a little more than a month to prepare for a concert in one of the largest arenas in the area. It had been booked by one of the top singers in Nashville, but he had cancelled. The Conner family would do the entire show; no openers, no warmups. They would sink or swim based on this one show, but it didn't matter because they had the farm they all loved. "We'll have to spend the next couple of days figuring out what we need," Karen said, "then getting a loan..." "You already have the loan," Guido said. "Carlo had budgeted a very large sum for this show, and the lights and sound system will all be provided. You just have to get the instruments, probably a few cordless microphones and costumes. The rest is already in place. "There is one more reason for my visit tonight," Guido said. "I wanted to come by to check on the boys, and if everyone is still willing, finalize the adoption." "But I thought since it was a private adoption," Andy protested, "that there was no waiting period." "Theoretically there isn't," Guido answered. "But Dennis and I agreed that since it had all happened so suddenly, we should agree to a short period of getting to know each other. Of course the whole thing was complicated by Charlie's prison stay. We also agreed that at this point there should be three possible answers: a definite 'YES,' a definite 'NO,' or a 'MAYBE' in which case we shall simply wait another month or two." Everyone thought that was fair, but Guido wasn't out of surprises yet. "First of all," he continued, "I want you all to understand that I'm not trying to pressure anyone into or out of anything, but I think that everyone should know all the facts. I want you all to know, and especially you Charlie because you were the catalyst that got me to thinking. I'm going to disband the castrati choir, at least as it is now." "Disband it?" Karen exclaimed. "But Guido, that's been your whole life!" "But Charlie made me realize," he answered, "that I wasn't helping those boys deal with the fact that they're different; in fact I was making it worse. And then with all this business with Carlo and what he did just to preserve Charlie's voice, I realized that I was perpetuating a very cruel practice, just like they did so many years ago. So I'm going to open the entire school, including the choir and music program, to all boys. There will be no differentiation between residents and day students, and all boys will be eligible to become residents. There will be one choir now, composed of both residents and day students. I will continue to provide a home for homeless castrati, but there will be residents who are not castrated also." "Wow!" Dennis exclaimed. "How do the residents feel about that?" "They suggested it, Dennis. I told them what Charlie had said, that he felt they were feeling very superior because of their condition. To my surprise they agreed, then we talked of ways to correct the situation, and the boys themselves suggested what is now going to become reality. We have even decided to make testosterone injections available to those residents who want them. They really are good boys, Charlie, and they mean well." "I know that, sir," Charlie answered, then corrected himself. "Err... sorry, I meant Signore." "Sir is fine. I am in your country now, or as you would say, your turf." Andy felt a cold foreboding chill go down his spine. There was no practical reason now for Paul or Christopher to stay here. That school had been their home for four years; they'd only been in North Carolina for one! He knew that they would view these changes as an opportunity to go back without enduring all the hassles they'd had in the past. Now he had a hate on for Guido. To Andy, he had obviously presented this information at this exact time in an effort to lure two pretty great boys back to Italy. But what could he do? How could he counter an offer like that? He looked at Charlie, and immediately saw the glint of a tear. Charlie's reaction to his hormone shots had improved greatly, but he still tended to cry a lot more easily than he'd done before. Andy tried to catch his eye, but Charlie was staring off into space some place. But the look on his face said it all: terror, dejection, panic; it was all there. He looked at Paul, then Christopher. They were preoccupied looking at each other, seemingly communicating in some way with their eyes. He looked back to Charlie to see if they could communicate. No chance! Charlie still had that dazed look as if he were in another world. He looked at Dennis. Their eyes met. He screamed inside himself "DO SOMETHING, DAD!" But Dennis would not, could not, do anything. This had to be the boys' decision and theirs alone. "If I understand you, Signore Guido," Paul said, "the choir is to become a normal boys' choir, open to all the school?" "That's right, Paul." "And... and it's optional?" "Yes. Regardless of whether you are a resident or not, castrato or not, the choir is optional just like any other school activity." "So... so Chris and I could attend, live in the dorms, and we wouldn't be one of a kind any more. There would be others like us? No more emphasis on castrato voices? No more hassles if you're different? No more laughing if you couldn't sing, or didn't want to?" "That's right, Paul." "That's wonderful, Signore! I am so glad!" Paul said as he embraced Guido. Paul went silent again. They all looked at each other. Christopher was looking at Paul now, a look of astonishment on his face. He was turning red. "Paul!" he exclaimed, then in Italian, "I can't believe you! You're actually thinking of going back? How can you possibly..." "Chris, you don't understand..." "I understand perfectly!" (Still in Italian, a sure sign that he was really upset) "It's YOU who don't understand! How can you just leave? How can you come over here and stay all this time, go through all that we've been through together and watch as Charlie got thrown in jail, then just go back because the rules have changed? I would never have come here if you hadn't come! But this is our home now. You can go if you want to, but not me! I'm staying! Mom, Dad, Signore Guido, may I stay? Please? I love it here! I love you all! I want to be Christopher Conner! I want to be your son. Andy, Charlie, I want to be your brother!" Christopher went on and on, babbling away in Italian about having to give up a brother he'd loved so he could have a family; about how he couldn't believe how easily Paul would give up a life so incredibly wonderful, how he hated Paul. How Paul had betrayed him and all the other members of the family too. Finally it was too much for the little boy. He literally flew into Karen's lap the way only he could, melted into her arms and cried as if his heart was breaking, which it was. "Christopher," Paul said as he followed him and put his hand on the sobbing boy's back. Paul was speaking Italian now too, because he wanted to be absolutely sure Christopher understood every word. "Chris, I was trying to say that I think the changes are wonderful, but not for me. I don't want to go back either, Christopher! You didn't let me finish." "You... you don't?" "Of course not! I was so afraid that you'd want to go back, and I didn't know what I was gonna do if you did. I didn't know if I could leave here, but I didn't know if I could let you go back alone either. I want to stay too, little brother. I want to stay more than anything in the world. But I'll do what I have to do to take care of you, just like Andy and Charlie always take care of both of us." "Oh. You mean I..." "Yeah, lil bro," Andy interjected with a grin. "I didn't understand all you said, but I got enough of it to know you kinda made a bit of a butthole of yourself." Charlie grinned. Then Dennis snickered, followed by Andy, then Guido. Finally Karen, her hands still roaming all over Christopher's back, neck, head, her fingers running through his full blond hair, chuckled and said "Christopher, my charming beautiful little hothead son! You've got a heart as big as all outdoors, but a fuse only half the length of your little finger." "Hmmmm" Charlie mused. "That would make it about the size of... well, never mind." "Charlie!" Karen scolded, "What a thing to say!" "Get your mind outa the gutter, Mom," Charlie retorted. Christopher giggled, that wonderful tinkling giggle that comes only from small boys; Guido bellowed his jolly belly laugh, then they were all laughing. "Can we stay, Mom?" Christopher said when he'd stopped laughing. "Signore Guido?" "Just try and leave!" Karen answered as she hugged him closer. "Actually," Guido said smiling, "it looks as if we don't need that vote. I will see the attorneys in the morning, if all are in agreement." Next: XXXII More Hormone Grief
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