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The Boy from the Choir
"Now hurry up and get ready, everyone. The concert is starting soon, and I don't want to stand for two hours," the mother urged her family in the hallway.
Father, two girls, and two boys hastily put on their long blue and green loden coats.
It was winter, and these coats had to be worn for a concert in the church.
Let’s focus on Andreas, a 15-year-old dreamer, sensitive, never the most important in class, but also not the loser. He was dark blond, with large chocolate-brown eyes. His side part was neatly styled, one of his smart, fine eyebrows almost covered by his tousled hair.
He always had to tilt his head slightly to see well, much to his mother's annoyance, who told him twice a day that he needed to go to the hairdresser.
A cool movie was currently playing on TV, and Andreas really wasn’t interested in this stupid concert by a youth choir from England, the sister city of their town, even though he sang in the choir himself and there was a girl from that choir staying at their house. But she was already at the church.
In the church, neighbors had saved seats for this family in the third row from the front on the mercilessly uncomfortable church bench.
At some point, the church door was closed when everything was packed.
After a welcome and program speech, the choir entered. At least 50 teenagers in long white robes with ruffs.
It was a combined choir of a mixed youth choir and a boys' choir.
Andreas was now attentive and captivated by this performance. They didn’t have robes in their choir, and this number came across very expressively.
When the choir began to sing, he was taken by the overall sound, a kind of sweetness, heart and belly feelings.
On the far right, from his perspective, stood a blond boy in the front row of the choir. He estimated him to be around 13 or 14. His gaze kept falling on him. He was grace personified, looking like a little angel who was devotedly concentrating and seemingly respectfully aiming at the conductor.
When this boy stepped forward with his similarly sized dark-haired singing neighbor and sang a two-part duet solo, it was all over.
Andreas got goosebumps and focused all his concentration on this boy. He was completely self-conscious and overwhelmed.
‘This angel is so close, yet so far away. An Englishman. Which family is he staying with? How will he speak, what will he be like otherwise? Is he a good guy or an asshole?’
For Andreas, it was clear: ‘Someone who can sing like that and is doing this... he must be amazing. Or does he just have strict parents who push him into something he doesn’t want to do?’
Well… Andreas knew he would never get to know him – or was there a chance? They would be in town for four days, and there were joint programs where the host families and their choir members would meet those from England.
Andreas tried to concentrate on the boy...
‘Please look at me, please pay attention to me... somehow!’
But the conductor was the target for the sweet blond boy, Andreas realized.
‘He shouldn’t have to look past the conductor so much...’
‘Ugh,’ thought Andreas, turning to his family to the right and left,
‘hopefully, they didn’t notice what’s going on with me.’
But they were fixated on the choir. ‘Good.’
After the concert, Andreas tried to spy where all the choir members from England were wandering around or hanging out. No chance!
There was a lot of activity with the host families, and somehow there was no opportunity to get closer. The host girl staying with Andreas' family was already at his mother’s side, and they were heading to the car to go home.
Once home, there was a gathering in the living room.
Andreas' parents showered the girl from the choir with praise for the concert. Andreas sat there politely, sorting out his English for the crucial words: “The solo boys had a very nice voice.” “Yes,” she replied, “Timothy and...”
Andreas: “Is Timothy the boy with the fair hair?” “Indeeeeed Andy, yes he is.”
Now he had some information: the boy’s name was Timothy.
Soon he also found out which host family Timothy was staying with in town. “Oh for heaven's sake... of all families!”, thought Andreas.
Since the host parents were good friends with Andreas' parents, he knew: ‘They are strict, you can’t just drop by, they are very wealthy people who are all “fancy pants”.’
The next day, Andreas had a hockey game and no chance to participate in the outings and programs with the guest choir.
Timothy kept haunting his mind. His singing and the whole appearance made his heart race and created a kind of longing feeling in his stomach.
Even the next day, Andreas had no opportunity to see the choir again.
However, there were now photos from the first performance in the church that the host girl brought along. Andreas immediately stole one of the prints and secretly tucked it away in his desk.
Departure day! Andreas and his family took the host girl to the meeting place where all the host families, choir members from the town, and the guest choir from England gathered.
In front of the bus, the choir performed a little serenade. Timothy was nowhere to be seen in the crowd. Andreas stretched himself in all directions, ran around the listening crowd from behind, but he did not discover him.
Finally… When everyone boarded, he saw him: Timothy! He recognized him by his blonde hair, the only one with that hairstyle! A sort of bowl cut, long bangs in front, long top hair, and the back tapering down. Actually, a very American teenage hairstyle.
Andreas felt as if he wanted to call out, but he didn’t dare.
As the blonde boy struggled through the bus with a small backpack over his shoulder, Andreas ran alongside outside.
Finally, the English boy found a seat on the bus, on the window side facing Andreas, and looked out. ‘Yes… he’s looking at me… he sees me!’ flashed through Andreas’s mind.
Andreas stopped and looked with his big chocolate eyes and sadness on his face at the boy in the bus. The boy seemed completely unfazed by the other crowd… instead, he looked directly into Andreas’s eyes. Timothy had blue eyes and actually looked much more like a Swede than an Englishman. The blonde in the bus seemed somehow excited; he clapped twice with his flat hand against the window, and that was clearly meant for Andreas. Timothy looked around the bus nervously, then back directly into Andreas’s face. Then it went “pffffffft” and the bus doors closed. Timothy slumped a bit in his seat and let one palm slide down from the window. Andreas raised his right arm, made a slow waving motion... and held his hand, slightly raised, in the air.
Timothy smiled briefly but looked sad. He pressed his lips together, and Andreas could see that the blonde had a dimple on one side.
The adult choir from the town spontaneously began to sing a song. A big wave and calls began. The bus slowly started to move.
Andreas ran alongside Timothy at the height of the vehicle, and the blonde smiled widely. He tried to convey with hand gestures that Andreas should run faster... Andreas gave it his all, but soon he could no longer keep up. The whole crowd from the town fell behind, and Andreas stood alone by the roadside, giving a final farewell wave.
Back home, Andreas trudged straight into his room. He awkwardly rummaged out the photo with the choir in the church, saw Timothy there in his white robe, and immersed himself in many thoughts... He cherished the photo like a treasure.
It was Saturday night. Andreas had taken some apples from the attic of the house, which were stored in the dark on old slats.
They were from the last harvest from the garden. He always did this when he couldn’t fall asleep, wanted to read for a long time, listened to music, or had to think about something for a long time.
Next to his bed, he had an old cassette recorder, which he also used to occasionally record his piano playing, especially when he improvised... came up with something. Andreas had received his first piano lessons at the age of 5, classical lessons, but he also played in a school band on the grand piano and keyboards.
Often he played spontaneously based on his mood. It was like writing letters for him when he was melancholic, really angry, or in a great mood.
Now he lay half upright in bed, had pushed the pillow behind his neck, and was listening to his own recordings from the cassette recorder. Meanwhile, he was munching on an apple.
Suddenly he heard a passage of his piano playing that he had to rewind and listen to again immediately. He did this a few times and then pressed stop! He jumped up and rummaged out the photo of the choir from his desk, took it to bed, and kept listening to that piano passage over and over again.
‘Yep!’ This music matched his feelings when he saw Timothy in the photo. Something hurt deeply, but he didn’t understand it.
It was just a boy, but for Andreas, he was an angel with a song that had completely moved and touched him. Andreas knew how intimate soprano singing was for a boy, and Timothy looked so noble and simply beautiful. And the scenes and gestures during his departure... It was tumbling in his head and stomach.
Andreas suddenly felt totally agitated, almost angry, because these feelings wouldn’t let him go.
He kept thinking about the boy. He was annoyed at having gotten so worked up. ‘It’s all lost anyway! Timothy is in England, and that’s it!’
Andreas buried the photo back in the desk, slammed the drawer shut, and turned off the light.
A good month had now passed since the choir from England had departed.
Andreas went to choir practice, as he did every week.
There, the choir director opened: “Dear people! You surely remember the beautiful days with the choir from our partner town in England.” Andreas widened his big chocolate-brown eyes. “In two months, we’re going over by ship, then a bus will take us there, and we’ll stay with host families.” Then he talked about the program to be performed and what all needed to be organized. Andreas’s heart almost stopped, and then it raced up to his throat!
With the note about the plan for the parents in hand, he pedaled home as fast as he could to discuss everything there.
The departure day was approaching. Andreas had repeatedly thought about what he would do or say when he saw Timothy again... when he would have to face him...
‘Will Timothy even be there? Will he have choir guests from Germany at home? I wonder if he will even remember?’ and on, and on...
Andreas decided to bring Timothy something. Something personal! No matter if he would even acknowledge him, no matter what would happen!
It was evening, and no one was home. The siblings were at friends' houses, and the parents were invited somewhere. Only Andreas sat at the piano, had the tape recorder set to ‘Record’ and played. He played and played, everything that came to mind, with all that he felt, onto the tape. Completely undisturbed. When the tape was full, he labeled it, on one side with ‘Timothy’ - on the other with ‘Andreas’, wrapped it in midnight blue paper with stars and moons on it. Then he placed the small package between his clothes in the almost packed suitcase. Again and again he took it out and wondered if it looked good... too much, or perhaps could come off as a love declaration? ‘Shock!’
In the meantime, it ended up in his backpack because Mom always repacked the entire suitcase at the end. ‘She'll notice later!’
‘Shit!’ went through his mind, ‘he'll laugh it off! What boy is so uncool with such sensitive stuff?’ Yes, Andreas was on the verge of flipping out. He hit himself on the head and wondered how stupid he actually was. Then he stood in front of the mirror in the hallway. ‘Do I look like a girl? Am I crazy? How do I actually tick...’ he pondered.
Andreas scolded himself... “Nonsense man, I’m a good boy... I don’t look bad and can also look tough if I want.”
“Damn... why do I have such soft features on my face? You can totally tell that I’m a wimp. No, I'm not!” He slammed the suitcase shut, sat down at the piano, and started banging on it...
Kiss... “Goodbye my darling and have fun! Did you bring your score? Here... have a few extra pounds. Be careful on the ship and don’t run around on deck at night... blah... blah...” That was the motherly talk right before the bus, and in such a way that everyone could hear... thought Andreas, as he finally freed himself from her grasp and boarded the bus with his backpack.
YO! It was finally starting. To England… to the ship! Pockpockpock! Andreas had just managed to snag a window seat when he turned startled to the window. ‘Mom wants something...’
Andreas understood nothing. The bus closed its doors and finally set off.
The bus trip and the ferry crossing to Harwich, as well as the subsequent bus ride to the English partner town, left Andreas hardly any room for deep thoughts. There was singing, dancing in the ship’s disco, and jokes were told in the cabin at night. The bus driver on the English side was a real joker and kept everyone entertained. He sped through England with his bus at full throttle, which made the choir director wear a worried expression.
FINALLY. Meeting at the marketplace in the English partner town with division into host families (that’s what it said on the program).
With honking, the bus turned into the square and stopped in front of a crowd... the welcoming committee, consisting of the host parents and members of the choirs from the town. Andreas was excited. His heart raced, and he scanned the waiting crowd with a strained look for... Timothy. No sign! He seemed not to have come. In fact, the boys from the boys' choir apparently had not come at all.
When Andreas' name was called for “Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” Andreas stepped forward, and a plump round woman in a terrible floral costume waddled toward him. But she beamed from ear to ear and said loudly: “Andrew. Very, very welcome...” Afterwards, Mrs. Smith steered an old light blue Vauxhall towards Andreas.
‘What an ugly car,’ thought Andreas. ‘But the lady is nice.’ Compliant and well-mannered, Andreas surrendered to the situation. Suitcase and backpack were loaded, he looked quite presentable: dark blue Timberland jacket, a brand new dark blue, perfectly fitting Diesel jeans, and light brown Camel shoes, a blue-and-white checkered Tom Tailor shirt. His hair was neatly styled on one side... he had even put on his CK B perfume.
Mrs. Smith was completely taken with this boy and placed him in the passenger seat. With a jerk, they were off, and Mrs. Smith talked without taking a breath. Andreas had to catch his breath too, because she was driving on the left, sitting on the right, and the way she was driving, he was still getting used to the traffic. Moreover, he understood only half of what she said; after all, he had never been to England before.
In front of a small detached house, the exciting ride came to an end. The Vauxhall still idled a bit as Mrs. Smith was already fussing around the trunk. Next to it stood an old Rover 3000. ‘Probably Mr. Smith's car.’
A lean man then opened the door of the house and warmly greeted Andreas. They went into the living room. Andreas was stuffed with homemade treats, and photos were shown back and forth, of children, siblings, parents, and Andreas was quickly renamed Andrew.
Andreas reported on the English choir visit at home, how much he enjoyed the concert, especially the soloists. "One of them was named Timothy."
"Yes! Timothy D...!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed. "He lives with his mom, 10 minutes from here. Would you like to visit Timothy?" Andreas felt like time had almost stopped: "Emmmm... no... yes... emmm... we don't know each other... perhaps... later... or..." Too late!
Mrs. Smith had already picked up the phone: "Maggy?..." She seemed to be talking to Timothy's mother... Andreas turned bright red and would have preferred to activate a trapdoor beneath him.
Crunch! Mrs. Smith had hung up the receiver, beaming from ear to ear, and indicated to Andreas that the boys had just had choir practice at the church. "His mother will send him over later!"
Andreas felt that he must have been so red that he could have been sold as a beacon. He sensed stress within him and awkwardly ran his fingers through his hair, feeling that his palms had become sweaty...
Mrs. Smith had prepared the guest room for Andreas. She was now bustling around in the kitchen, and Andreas had excused himself to "freshen up" and unpack.
He noticed fresh flowers on a dresser and an oversized bowl of sweets on a small nightstand next to the bed.
He hurriedly unpacked his suitcase and dumped the contents of his backpack onto the bed. "What should I wear now? Never mind... I'll go to the bathroom first."
He undressed, crossed the hallway in his shorts and with his toiletries, and disappeared into the bathroom that Mrs. Smith had assigned to him.
After showering, he stood in front of the mirror, rubbing his hair dry, when he heard a ring somewhere. "THE FRONT DOOR!" it shot through his mind. Electrified, he paused and listened.
He heard voices in the hallway, doors slamming. Silence!
He quickly brushed his teeth, wrapped himself in a large white bath towel that had been laid out for him, and rushed down the hallway to the door of his guest room. He heard Mrs. Smith calling from a distance: "Timothy is waiting in your roooom!"
Too late! The door to the room swung open and shook as it slammed against the doorstop.
Startled, Andreas opened his eyes wide and stood next to the door. Equally startled and with an expression of having been 'caught,' the blonde boy turned around, who had apparently been inspecting some items from Andreas' backpack that were lying on the bed.
The shock moment lasted for a moment. Andreas tried to find English words.
The blonde stood there as if rooted to the spot. He examined his counterpart with his plush blue eyes from head to toe. Upon reaching his feet, he stared at Andreas' right big toe, which was shining with a white glob of toothpaste, and suddenly a broad smile unfolded on his face, revealing a dimple next to his sweetly curved lips. 'What’s going on now?' thought Andreas and looked down. He glanced at Timothy's face, and at that moment, a small, liberating laugh erupted from both of them.
Andreas grabbed his clothes that he had taken off earlier and gestured with minimal body language that he would just put something on, left the room, and went back to the bathroom.
When Andreas re-entered the room looking smart, Timothy was sitting on the edge of the bed.
Andreas felt a slight blush creeping into his face. He had trouble looking at Timothy directly for long, as he looked so graceful and beautiful.
He was wearing an elegant black shirt, buttoned all the way up, over beige-white trousers. However, the very thick-soled dress shoes he wore were quite noticeable and well-polished.
"My name is Andreas... emm... Andrew," Andreas managed to say.
"I know! My name is Timothy." "Ok… Did Mrs. Smith tell you?" asked Andreas.
"Yes, but I’ve known your name since the day we left your city in Germany by bus!"
Surprised, Andreas looked into Timothy's eyes, which now expressed a certain mischief. Timothy recounted that not only he had seen Andreas sprinting next to the departing bus back then. The girl who had been a guest at Andreas' home and had also been on the bus had witnessed the scene and informed Timothy who the athletic boy was and how much she had enjoyed her stay with Andreas' family.
Timothy knew how many siblings Andreas had, which school he attended, that he played hockey, played the piano, and sang in the youth choir.
Andreas was stunned! Finally, he sat down next to Timothy on the edge of the bed with a bit of distance and tried to say something to Timothy in clumsy English:
"I enjoyed your performance in our church, especially your voice, your solo parts. Great!"
"Thank you, Andrew..." Pause… "I’ve seen you in the church beside your parents."
Andreas turned red and felt embarrassed again. He still remembered how much he had focused his gaze on Timothy in church.
He had respect for Timothy. There was something very clear and self-assured about him, even though he appeared half a head shorter than Andreas and was definitely one or two years younger. His speaking voice indicated that his voice had probably not yet broken, or only very gently, but it was quite pronounced. Andreas knew that; he also had a trained voice and could still sing alto at 15 and a half.
"It's great to meet you, Andrew," Timothy suddenly said, a bit quieter. He looked down at his legs, which he let dangle back and forth. Andreas glanced at him from the side.
A moment later, Timothy turned his head to Andreas, looked briefly into his eyes, and then glanced back at his dangling legs.
"I'm happy we did meet now," Andreas said… The 'happy' came out with voice, but the rest he whispered. Timothy looked back up at Andreas and smiled slightly, with dimples showing and lips pressed together in affirmation.
A gong sounded with strong strikes from the direction of the kitchen. It could only be Mrs. Smith. "Äääändruuuuuu.... Timmethäääyyyyyyy…," echoed through the hallway. 'DINNER! Yoooo!' Andreas and Timothy exchanged determined looks, nodded in sync, stood up, and headed out.
Mrs. Smith had laid out a feast and warmly indicated that it was time to dig in; nothing should be left over! Mr. Smith smiled and nodded in agreement, looking pleased at the two boys he now had at the table with his wife.
Timothy sat across from Andreas. Just as the blonde was chewing on a piece that was far too big, stuffing it into his cheek, Andreas looked him directly in the face. Timothy stopped chewing, and Andreas noticed a laugh was brewing within him.
At that moment, Andreas pointed with his eyes to a large kitschy bowl on the table, which had a duck's head with a long beak as handles on either side.
Timothy froze, his eyes wide. His diaphragm quaked, and he did everything humanly possible to keep his mouth shut. Andreas heard his quiet, painfully suppressed inner giggles and, now also on the verge of a laughing fit, focused on Timothy's increasingly mischievous blue eyes, which were becoming slightly watery. Mrs. Smith, who somehow caught on to her bowl's significance, looked at the boys.
She announced that this lovely and particularly valuable bowl came from a special shop in London; she had bought the entire set from this series...
That was too much! Timothy jumped up and ran to the bathroom. Andreas tried to compose himself and convey to the somewhat startled Mrs. Smith that Timothy had just choked… it really was a particularly beautiful bowl! Mr. Smith, with an understanding look, held his napkin to his mouth and grinned into it.
Timothy returned, his eyes were moist, and he took a deep breath.
He said something like, "Ohh… I’m very sorry... blah blah..." and after he had sat back down, he kicked Andreas hard on the shin under the table and looked at him with sparkling eyes and a fully activated dimple, mischievously.
This arrival day in the small English town was free for Andreas and the host family. The next day, there was supposed to be a reception at the town hall, followed by the first concert in the town hall that evening.
After dinner, Mrs. Smith suggested that Timothy could now show Andreas around the area before it got completely dark, and they agreed on a return time of 9 PM.
The two didn't need to be told twice, and a few minutes later, they left the house together.
They giggled once more about the funny situations during dinner, and Timothy explained that he wanted to show Andreas his school from the outside first, then his home. By the way, his mom was super nice and the best in the whole world. Andreas would get to meet her too.
Andreas couldn't always fully understand everything Timothy said, but somehow it was much more important to him not to interrupt him. He preferred to pay attention while listening and felt he 'had to' look at the blonde boy now. This way, he could explore him, in his expressions, in his entire appearance. Every little detail affected Andreas. Everything he perceived in the little English boy felt incredibly beautiful, noble, super smart, with a feeling of the sweetest infatuation in his stomach, but also a large portion of melancholy that had something to do with a sense of untouchability.
Andreas also realized now: 'Right, Timothy is about half a head shorter than I am.'
"Like your hairstyle," Timothy suddenly said in his chatter.
Andreas was pulled a bit out of his thoughts but didn't know if he had understood that correctly. He struggled to find something to reply.
"I like you a lot too!" he responded. "Pardon?" came from the other side.
Timothy looked at him as if he really hadn't understood a thing.
'Shit,' thought Andreas, 'good that he didn't understand that.'
He gathered himself in English: "I have to see the barber soon."
"No, no, no!" came the response. Andreas threw a charming glance at Timothy, whose blue eyes sparkled back smartly.
In the distance, the school was now visible. Timothy silently indicated it with a finger. He then guided Andreas around all the buildings. Afterwards, they strolled further down the street. The houses became simpler, and eventually, they found themselves among old red brick apartment buildings.
The people visible here and there seemed to be workers. Suddenly, Timothy jingled a set of keys and opened the entrance door of one of these houses. They trudged up an old staircase in a somewhat run-down stairwell to the third floor.
The blonde boy briefly turned to Andreas with a smile, pressed the doorbell, and then unlocked the apartment door. "Mom!" he called out, throwing the keyring onto a dresser. Andreas closed the apartment door behind him and stood there, looking around briefly while waiting.
The furnishings were simple but very tidy and neat. A door opened, and Timothy's mother approached them with a warm expression. 'A beautiful woman!' thought Andreas. Very athletic and aesthetically pleasing, with long blonde hair tied back into a long ponytail.
Timothy politely introduced Andreas, and the mother extended her hand to him. She asked if they wanted to go into the living room, but Timothy said he wanted to show his guest his room first.
Andreas entered Timothy's domain. Everything was orderly, and there weren't many pieces of furniture. A white robe hung from a transparent cover on a wardrobe.
"Have a seat, please," said Timothy, pointing to the edge of the bed. Obediently, Andreas took a seat.
The 'little one' rummaged a photo album down from the wardrobe and sat closely next to Andreas, making physical contact. He turned on his bedside lamp and adjusted it to illuminate the album. Then he began to tell... that his father was no longer alive... that they used to live better... but his mother was doing everything wonderfully and opened the album.
Andreas had to concentrate hard to understand the essentials. A warmth spread within him during Timothy's presentation, and he enjoyed this closeness.
He noticed the hands that were showing and explaining various things in the photo album.
Of course, these hands also had to highlight the aura of the boy next to him. They must be the softest puppy-like hands in the world, Andreas felt. He then realized that they hadn't even shaken hands.
As Timothy spoke very intensely and explained, Andreas felt a tingling sensation beginning in his neck. He got a pleasant goosebumps.
Timothy spoke softly, sometimes almost whispering. He went through vacation photos, where his father was also still visible. Andreas turned to Timothy more and more, who was fully focused on the album. He sensed his emotions, which must have been connected to the photos.
Andreas felt the urge to put his arm around Timothy and struggled internally with whether to do it or not. Suddenly, the thought of the precious time they could only have together struck him.
He did it! Gently, he placed his left arm over Timothy's shoulder, who made a brief pause but then continued as before.
Andreas wanted to slowly retract his arm, but Timothy reached back with his right hand and stopped the movement, pulling his arm back to where it had been before. Without interruption, he continued with his presentation about the photos.
Arriving at the last page of the album, Timothy left it open as it was, looked down, and fell silent. Andreas studied him with his large, dark brown, shiny doe eyes from the side. He could see that a tear had gathered in the outer corner of his neighbor's eye.
Andreas briefly pulled Timothy closer to him. Timothy slowly looked up and then smiled slightly at Andreas, sniffled once, and quickly wiped both eyes with the back of his left hand.
Andreas was emotionally overwhelmed himself. He hadn't understood everything, but he had felt everything. Timothy looked forward again, closed the album, and with a discreet, sweet smile and a slight shrug, made it clear that he was fine and that everything would continue. Andreas could tell from his expression.
Timothy wanted to get up and put the album back in its place, but Andreas held him back with his arm on his shoulders; he was startled by his own gesture, as he hadn't really intended to do that.
Timothy looked at the closed album, then forward, and then turned to Andreas. Andreas felt a kind of fear in his stomach, almost as if he needed to go to the bathroom. Timothy's eyes wandered slowly from one doe-like eye to the other; he seemed to skim over Andreas's eyebrows and face in general. Andreas noticed a certain seriousness in Timothy's face and discovered a small dot just above his counterpart's upper lip on one side. Just as he realized this, Timothy's blue sparkling eyes formed into a warmly benevolent eye smile. The corners of his eyes revealed it along with the fine eyebrows.
Timothy jumped up: "Wanna show you something," he said, reaching for a small desk and pulling out a small tin box from one of the two doors. He sat down on the floor, waved Andreas over to him, and placed the box in the middle. He took off the lid. Inside were at least 20 smaller and larger artistically sprayed and painted stones... in a kind of graffiti style. 'So this is a hobby of Timothy's.' Andreas found them beautiful, and each individual stone was quite special.
The little English boy noticed how fascinated his counterpart was by his hobby. As they took each stone out and examined them closely, Timothy began to hum softly, then a bit louder, and finally sang: "Oh happy day... oh happy dayiiieay..." Andreas laughed and joined in with a harmony. He also knew this gospel song perfectly. Timothy beamed, stood up, and both really got into it. They looked at each other to be perfectly in sync. Timothy vibrated with excitement and began to improvise over the lead voice, phrasing into his highest soprano head voice. Andreas had to concentrate hard to keep the tempo of the base singing just right. "Yeah!" Timothy shouted, approached Andreas, jumped up excitedly in one leap, and wrapped his legs around his hips. "Mom!" he called and reached with his long arm for the doorknob. "Moooom!" "Yes Timmy, I heard it! It was great!" came a call from the living room.
Timothy landed back on his feet, stood in front of Andreas, beamed at him, and asked energetically: "FRIENDS?" Andreas raised his arms for a high-five: "Friends!" he replied happily and freely. The ritual clap was loud, and the mother approached with a tray. Cookies and tea!
"Mom... mooom..." Timothy demanded... He begged his mother if Andreas could please, please, please stay with him overnight, or even for the entire duration of his stay in the city. The mother laughed sympathetically and made it clear to him that this wouldn't work, after all, Andreas was staying with the Smiths, and that couldn't be changed. But maybe they could arrange it for one night, she would discuss it with Mrs. Smith. However, today Andreas had to go back.
As she said this, she looked at her wristwatch, tapped a few times on the glass face, and alerted the boys that it would be time soon. "I will bring you back!" Timothy declared determinedly and started sorting the stones back into the tin box. Andreas watched him relaxed and happily, nibbling on a cookie in the process.
Ten to nine! Timothy had promptly brought his new friend in front of the house of the host family where Andreas was staying. "Ten minutes," he noted on his wristwatch and leaned back against Mrs. Smith's old Vauxhall. "Yes... ten minutes," Timothy confirmed and did the same.
It was dark, and a nearly full moon tried to cast a little light through passing clouds, which were sometimes thicker and sometimes thinner.
On the way, the two hadn't talked much. They had quietly hummed "Oh happy day" again to cover up the silence. Andreas was filled with the evening, and he somehow felt the same from Timothy, who had been smiling over at him while they walked.
"At night I always get the best emotions to compose and to play piano," he said dreamily. "'Would like to hear it, Andrew," Timothy replied with a questioning soft voice.
"Can I tell you something?" Andreas now cautiously trembled out.
"Indeed. What’s up?" asked the blonde boy, looking at Andreas expectantly with his blue eyes. Pause... Andreas searched for words and smiled smartly-embarrassed.
"Come on... what is it?" came the prompt again. "'Could not forget you since I saw you the first time in church. I wished to meet you so bad... the whole time..." Andreas whispered almost inaudibly and looked everywhere but into the eyes of the boy next to him. The boy said nothing at that moment.
Finally, Andreas took a fleeting glance and saw that Timothy was still looking the same way as before, but the corners of his mouth were slightly twitching towards a dimple.
Andreas began to flutter his eyelashes. Timothy could see exactly how Andreas' eyelashes moved irregularly up and down. He tried to take in Andreas' whole face, who turned slightly away when he noticed this. Timothy took his left hand out of his pocket and placed it on Andreas', who was leaning on the cold tailgate of the Vauxhall. Andreas felt the smaller silk paw, whose soft fingers tried to gently burrow beneath his. The small hand squeezed slightly, and the voice that accompanied it said very softly, but firmly: "I’m impressed." Pause...
"No one ever said things, like you did, to me before." "Really?" Andreas managed to say.
"Pardon?" came Timothy's immediate response. "Emmm...wow..." Andreas shook his head with an embarrassed grin on his face, signaling that he was clueless and at the end of his verbal creativity.
Then it seemed something occurred to him: "Wait, Timothy!" He simply left the boy standing there. He rang the bell. Mrs. Smith opened the door. "Aahhh, Andrew!" she exclaimed happily.
"I’m back in a few minutes!" Andreas hurried past her into his guest room. He rummaged through his luggage for the small package with the cassette and stormed back out, past a somewhat surprised Mrs. Smith, who was an unmistakable obstacle.
Timothy received Andreas right in front of the front door. Andreas pushed Timothy back behind the car and held out the small package to him. "For me? What’s that?... Why?" whispered the smaller boy, tense, taking the package from the frantic one, while he eyed Andreas with a slightly ducked posture and a mischievous smile.
Before Andreas could even let out that he shouldn't open it yet, the boy had already removed the paper. He stared at the cassette. "Andrew," he read aloud..., turned the cassette over, "Timothy?" he read questioningly from the other side of the gift. Andreas stood in front of him, excited, almost doubtful.
"Äääändruuuuu!" came a call from the front door. "Come in please!" it came with insistence.
Timothy blinked his blue eyes and lit up the one in whom a feeling collision was just taking off. Out of nowhere, the right paw of the blonde boy shot up, quickly clasped around Andreas' neck, pulled him close, and kissed him swiftly on the cheek. Just as quickly, he let go of him and ran out into the darkness.
Andreas stood there like a statue and replayed the film of the last few seconds in his mind a few times back and forth. Yup! He was smitten! And to the point of pain! Was that just a conquest, or had he completely thrown the little guy off balance, even caused a bit of a stir?
He finally trudged into the house. Mrs. Smith greeted him with questions about his wishes, food, drink, or sitting together. Andreas indicated that it had been a great evening, but that he was very tired now. The program plan for the next day was briefly discussed, after which he changed, crawled into the guest bed, immediately turned off the light, and let Timothy swirl in his thoughts with all the impressions of today and everything he found so fascinating about him. The huge blankets of the bed and the soft mattress were cozy, but unfamiliar.
Hardly had he calmed down a bit and let some peace settle in, when someone knocked from outside at the window. He jumped up! 'NO…!' he thought immediately, sneaking to the window, opened it, and two blue cheeky 'headlights' flashed at him! "You’re crazy!" whispered Andreas. "Come out," giggled Timothy. Andreas nervously ran his fingers through his messy hair. "Okay, but only 5 minutes," he replied.
Timothy bounced excitedly in front of the window, looking left and right. Andreas quickly slipped into some clothes and crawled out through the window. "Your mother, Timothy?" "I told her that I forgot my keys in your room... hihi!"
"Okay," whispered Andreas back with a grin and continued: "Why did you come back?"
"I forgot something," Timothy whispered softly, very close to Andreas' ear.
They both crouched down. "Hmmm?" Andreas replied. "I did not say 'Thank You' for the present!" "Of course you did!" whispered Andreas.
"How?" Timothy wondered. Small pause... "Errmmm... you kissed me."
"Yes, I did," Timothy grinned back shyly. "I was highly surprised," he hissed past Andreas' ear, causing him to get goosebumps all over his body.
The blonde blue-eyed boy positioned his shining sapphires right in front of Andreas' eyes, so that their noses almost touched. "I hope we are friends for a long time from now on, Andrew," came in a very soft and gentle voice, while Timothy supported himself with his warm hands on Andreas' knees.
Andreas had to swallow now, and warm feelings spread within him. His goosebump feeling was off the scale, and the attraction to this charming, graceful, sensitive boy compelled him to a fulfillment. Timothy noticed something in Andreas' face.
The little one was just beginning to doubt his earlier words with "Pardon?" because he didn't understand Andreas' expression. His face was now flooded with all his emotions. The doe-like eyes closed, and his lips slowly approached the right cheek of his counterpart. There, they placed the most tender kiss that Andreas had ever wanted to give someone. He waited a moment before looking Timothy in the eyes, as he suddenly became aware of what he had just done.
He cautiously pulled his head back and opened his eyes.
The blue spotlights were on, along with dimples.
Timothy sank back onto his heels and let out a breath he had been holding. Andreas raised his elegantly arched eyebrows in a slightly questioning manner.
After a brief pause: "Be assured: You will get such a kiss as well, my friend!" the little one smiled, wearing his mischievous grin with slitted eyes.
Andreas grinned back, relaxed.
"Piano?" Timothy asked cheerfully, pulling a cassette from his pocket. "Piano!" Andreas confirmed in return.
They lingered for a moment. Timothy put the cassette back.
"Tomorrow?" Timothy asked very softly, in a somewhat shy tone. "Tomorrow!" Andreas replied cheerfully in a whisper.
Andreas then stood up and climbed back into the house through the window. Timothy came to the windowsill from outside and stretched his arms up. Andreas leaned down and hugged his new friend. He briefly snuggled his face into Timothy's collar and took a deep breath through his nose. Timothy giggled softly. They released each other, and the 'little one' stepped back from the windowsill. He threw a happy glance at Andreas, set off, and whispered a 'Bye' as he walked away.
Andreas closed the window, got undressed again, and cozily nestled himself under the enormous mass of blankets. Now he realized how tired he really was. Nevertheless, he began to think about the possibilities of meeting his new friend the next day. A pretty comprehensive program lay ahead: a welcome at the town hall, a rehearsal, a dress rehearsal, and a concert in the evening. 'Well... maybe he could somehow find a bike...'
As he pondered this, the active operation in Andreas' mind switched off, and sleep took over the reins.
"Good morning!" blew into Andreas' ear from no more than 30 cm away. He opened his eyes wide and registered Mrs. Smith, who cheerfully placed a tray on the nightstand. He realized that he was no longer covered; he must have kicked off the blankets in his sleep. Quickly, he sat up, grabbed the blanket, and hastily pulled it up to his chin. Mrs. Smith threw open the window and said loudly, "Andrew, it's a wonderful day!"
She inquired if he had slept well, handed him an oversized mug from the tray. Andreas sipped from it with a grateful, obedient face and found: 'Tea with milk and at least 6 spoons of sugar!'
'Not sweet at all,' he thought, 'but lovely!' He glanced at the tray, prompting Mrs. Whirl-Smith to announce that there were toasts with special, original English delicious marmalade and that he should come for breakfast right away...
'Breakfast? What did I just get here???' he wondered, puzzled.
Andreas felt the draft caused by Mrs. Smith's speed as she cheerfully left the room.
'Wow,' he thought, letting himself fall back into the pillow for a moment.
Then he nibbled on the toasts, surely made with love, with his long teeth.
Yes... he had to eat them somehow.