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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.
When Andreas left his guest room, freshly showered and dressed, a scent wafted into his nose that hinted at something fried.
'Yuck! Fried bacon and eggs...' But there was no escape!
Mr. Smith assigned him a seat at the table, where another huge cup awaited him with the same contents as the one by his bed. Mrs. Smith joined in and delighted in every bite that Andreas swallowed afterward.
Mr. and Mrs. Smith took the boy to the town hall, where the official reception of the choir from the German partner city took place, hosted by the mayor.
As a response to the greeting, the guest choir performed a serenade. After the applause, Andreas immediately broke away from the formation and turned to the choir director, asking if he could be excused from the upcoming tour and the subsequent 'get-together' with all the host families until the rehearsal. Today, that was out of the question, the director said, but winked at Andreas kindly to indicate that the emphasis was on 'TODAY.' Internally a bit agitated, Andreas replied with a smiling, "OK!"
The boy let the day unfold around him. He was moving with dissatisfied feelings but tried to appear smart and polite. He kept looking around, searching...
Andreas was excited! He stood on a podium in the second row of the alto section, relatively centered. The hall of the town hall was filled to capacity. They had just positioned themselves in front of the now-waiting English audience. The coughing and murmuring gradually decreased as the conductor stepped in front of the choir. Andreas' eyes frantically scanned the audience, and he tried not to overlook the choir director, who would give the cue at any moment. When the conductor raised both arms for the cue, Andreas' gaze briefly swept over the balconies once more. And... YES! He was there! Timothy was standing to the right of him, up on the balcony that was not open to the audience. Andreas quickly smiled up at him, and a moment later, the conductor, who shot Andreas a 'you better pay attention' look, gave the cue.
Andreas felt Timothy's gaze; he really didn't need to risk glancing up at the balcony every now and then, but he did, and almost every time he received a satisfied grin in return. Timothy had laid his arms flat on the balcony railing and rested his chin on his folded hands. Sometimes he would also tilt his head sideways on his arms. It was not comfortable to sit up there, and it certainly wasn't the easiest way to endure a two-hour concert.
Applause... The English audience was thrilled, and the applause seemed endless. The conductor initiated an encore, which also received almost excessive applause. Now the conductor grew nervous because he was facing program issues. All the other pieces the choir had rehearsed would have been out of place here. He looked at Andreas, another boy from the alto section, and a girl from the soprano section, and beckoned them to him. "Cantate domino," whispered the conductor... A piece that Andreas and the other two had rehearsed for the Cantata Sunday at their home church. Now it was time to concentrate!
The three positioned themselves side by side in front of the choir; the conductor gave the three different entry pitches, and after the chord was softly hummed in, he gave the cue.
Despite his singing, Andreas felt the even greater silence and concentration of the audience. He saw Mr. and Mrs. Smith in the front, their eyes fixed on him. He dared not look up at Timothy.
When the last chord of the three faded away and was lost in the hall, there was silence for a while. Then, an insane applause erupted. Andreas looked up at his friend. He had leaned slightly over the railing and was clapping as if he were completely beside himself. Then, 'whoosh,' Timothy disappeared.
After the applause, the rows of the choir dissolved one by one and disappeared into a side room. Andreas entered with the others and looked around. He really needed to find Mr. and Mrs. Smith now and go 'home' with them.
As that thought crossed his mind, a side door opened. "Yeah... Timothy!" shot through Andreas. He immediately approached the blonde boy, who greeted him with unrestrained warmth. They exchanged looks and expressions without saying anything, while Timothy kept tugging at Andreas' stylish white shirt or pressing one of the pearl buttons.
The blonde pulled his friend toward the side door, quickly opened it, and pulled him through. Now they stood there in the half-dark. Andreas tossed his well-styled hair back and looked into a somewhat amused, slightly cheeky face. "You are a great singer... it was great... wonderful choir!" he said.
Andreas raised his eyebrows in a smile. There was something else?? What did that mischievous expression on Timothy's face mean? He pulled him closer: "Meet you tonight at your windoooow," he whispered. Andreas felt a thrill run through him... "Okay," he whispered back after a brief pause and grinned.
The unease about sneaking out at night was simply powerless against the magnetism of this boy.
Timothy looked down for a moment, considering. Then he took his own right hand, made a 'schmatz!' sound, kissed the palm, and 'pat!' he pressed the whole paw right on the spot on Andreas' chest, just below where his heart was racing.
Surprised, Andreas instinctively held his friend's hand with his at that spot, and his doe eyes reflected a glowing message back. It felt warm in his chest...
Timothy smiled broadly with closed lips and dimples...
Suddenly they paused and listened:
On the other side of the door behind them, someone was calling: "Andreas? Does anyone know where he is now?" "In the bathroom," someone said casually.
Andreas grabbed Timothy by both shoulders and reaffirmed: "Okay. Tonight!" He let go, took the doorknob in hand, turned back to Timothy, who was just standing there, dashed over to the 'little one,' hugged him excitedly but tightly, and then disappeared through the door to the others.
Andreas sat with his legs dangling in the living room of Mr. and Mrs. Smith.
The model of the armchair he sank into would surely have been labeled in Germany as 'from Wehrmacht stocks.' Above all, Mrs. Smith was hardly controllable with delight and enchantment after the concert and seemed to think that Andreas should be properly pampered now. Andreas had activated the Good-Obedient-Plus-Compliant program and let everything wash over him somehow. The conversation was simply exhausting, and even though Mr. Smith meant well by explaining the special home technology with the gray water storage, Andreas had pretty much switched to autopilot and thought of nothing else but that he would see Timothy again sometime tonight. There was a flutter in his stomach, and he felt real restlessness, wishing that this yawning time would 'finally go by.'
He would have preferred to stomp his feet.
At some point, he felt that it could no longer be impolite to say goodbye and head to bed. Mrs. Smith wanted to play him a recording of a choir she had sung with ten years ago, featuring similar works. Andreas postponed her to 'tomorrow' and finally said goodbye to his room.
He laid out an older, somewhat worn pair of jeans that he had packed for potential hikes or picnics. It was actually his favorite jeans. They were tight, had a large tear under one buttock, were completely faded, and battered from sailing and other things. There were also tears at knee height and in the front thigh area. Then he rummaged out a sweater and his Timberland jacket.
He heard Mr. and Mrs. Smith finally going to sleep, undressed, opened the window slightly, and lay down in bed. He was not tired at all and felt that his excitement prevented him from becoming drowsy.
It was just an insane anticipation that showcased many Timothy impressions in his mind.
Again and again, he switched on the light and looked at his wristwatch.
They hadn’t set a time, and he tried to calculate when his friend could even sneak out at home, then a good ten minutes of walking. He adjusted the hands on his watch and postponed the meeting with Timothy by a quarter of an hour each time. Eventually, fatigue overcame him, and he didn’t even notice it properly as he drifted away.
Suddenly, he jolted awake: Wasn’t there something? He listened. Silence.
He turned on the light, shifted a bit... There was a resistance in the bed!
“Timothy,” he whispered in surprise. He lay next to him in his clothes with his eyes closed. Was he sleeping? Andreas wondered what he should do now.
“WUHAAA!” Timothy opened his eyes wide and shot his face towards him. Then he burst out laughing and indicated that he had just arrived. In a flash, Andreas got dressed, and only when both had climbed out of the window did the first proper word fall. Timothy wanted to show Andreas something or take him somewhere. That much Andreas understood.
At the edge of the residential area, Timothy took a forest path. He had a tiny flashlight that was built into a keychain. The night was relatively clear, and one could make out the outlines of the trees and the path.
They didn’t talk much. Occasionally, Timothy flashed his eyes over at Andreas and seemed to be looking forward to something or had a surprise.
Soon they arrived at a sort of observation platform at the edge of the forest. In daylight, one could probably look over a bog or something from here, Andreas thought. There were two benches made of tree trunks arranged in a semicircle. In the middle was a small area where people had probably grilled before. Timothy whispered, “Wait!” and disappeared for a moment.
After two minutes, he returned with a bicycle and a tiny trailer attached to it. Inside were a bag of charcoal, a blanket, lighter fluid, and paper, as well as a small backpack.
Timothy poured some of the charcoal onto the 'fire pit,' tore up paper, and drizzled everything with a bit of lighter fluid. Andreas found it really brilliant and noticed that Timothy kept flashing him looks as if he wanted confirmation that he had a cool idea.
He walked over to his blonde friend, put his arm around him, and whispered, “What a great idea... but you’re crazy!” Timothy grinned mischievously and got the fire going. He tried to keep it small so that as few people as possible would notice.
Satisfied, Timothy and Andreas sat on one of the two log benches, their faces illuminated by the warm glow of the mini-fire. Occasionally, Andreas stood up to look for a few small twigs when the charcoal seemed to be just about to die down.
Andreas felt Timothy beside him. He was completely relaxed, and he had a wide feeling in his stomach that was sprinkled with a bit of adventure.
Suddenly, he noticed a small hand searching for its way around him from behind. It gently dug under his Timberland jacket at his hip.
Andreas carefully placed his left hand on the back of his neighbor's neck. He waited a moment... and let his fingertips make barely noticeable caressing movements. When Timothy leaned his head slightly forward and accepted this tiny caress, Andreas intensified it a little.
After some time, Andreas noticed that Timothy's hand on his hip was responding in a way. It subtly pushed his sweater up a little at that spot and landed on his T-shirt... under the sweater.
Time passed, and no one had thrown sticks onto the now smoldering coals for a while. It was getting a bit chilly.
Timothy slowly withdrew his hand and threw a dreamy glance at Andreas as he stood up to get some sticks. When the mini-fire was rekindled, the 'little one' rummaged around in his backpack, pulled something out, and sat back down next to Andreas.
There, the blonde boy looked down at the ground, then at what he held in his hands.
"You are my friend, aren't you, Andrew?" "Yes! Sure, Timothy!" "I have something for you. Don’t laugh... okay?" Andreas promptly confirmed that he wouldn't laugh.
Awkwardly, and without looking at Andreas, he handed him something wrapped in a handkerchief, shaped roughly like a large potato. It was heavy. The recipient recognized initials on the handkerchief, 'T.D.' They were Timothy's initials. Slowly, he unwrapped it and examined it from above, turning it this way... then that way. Andreas noticed his eyes becoming moist... He stammered: "It's... beautiful... Timothy... beautiful..."
"Pardon?" came the timid and uncertain reply.
Andreas held a stone that Timothy had artistically designed in his hands. In a graffiti style, one half read 'Andrew' and the other 'Timothy'. The two names were connected by small chain links. The middle link was painted red. Around the stone, there were fine representations of the colors of the countries at the bottom as a foot indication... on one side the British colors, on the other the German ones.
Andreas' chocolate-brown doe eyes were filled with tears. He was deeply touched and emotionally affected by the affection from this boy, whose treasure he was now experiencing and receiving. He fought to blink back the tears. He briefly looked at Timothy, whose face was still waiting for a response. But now, it seemed he understood and knelt at an angle in front of Andreas to look him in the eyes. "YES! You like it... you like it!" Timothy triumphantly whispered, playfully making a 'strike' gesture.
"You jerk!" Andreas exclaimed, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand and laughing with a sniff in between. "Ha! I know the meaning of Aaasch," Timothy giggled back, tossed a few more sticks onto the fire, and rummaged again in his backpack. Out came two cans of cola, an oversized bar of chocolate, and a bag of what seemed to be homemade cookies from his mom. Timothy took his position on the ground in front of Andreas again, opened the wrapper, broke off a large piece, and shoved it into his friend's mouth with the remark "For your brown eyes!" and chuckled. "'Will get the dimensions of Mrs. Smith within four days," he squeezed out between bites of chocolate. "Never!" Timothy giggled, stood up, and knelt on the log bench behind Andreas, who had positioned himself slightly sideways with his legs half on the left side.
The 'little one' cuddled up to him from behind, placed his arms around his friend's back, and rested his head and body against him. Andreas was once again flooded with that benign, incredibly warm feeling, which undoubtedly were the natural, free, and genuine waves from his friend. The stone had been made by his soft, cuddly hands within a day! Just as he thought that, Timothy responded as if on cue: "I heard your piano playing on the cartridge while I made that stone for you... the whole day!" This boy now moved his arms forward and embraced Andreas. He took one of those sweet, soft paw grips in both hands and warmed them.
"'s made with love!" came from behind... "Yes, your stone!" from the front... "No, your piano!"
"The stone!" "Your music, my boy!" Timothy giggled and jumped down from the bench.
Andreas tossed his hair back and fixed his gaze on his friend's blue spotlight eyes, which were looking at him half-seriously, half-amused. He stood up and wanted to approach Timothy, but he added his wide grin plus dimples and made evasive movements. Andreas stopped, brushed his hair back with his right hand, and looked at Timothy with his shining doe eyes. The blonde came closer and said, "Do you remember what I promised yesterday, Andrew?" Andreas said nothing. He only saw how graceful and beautiful the boy was as he drew nearer. He also felt how warm it became inside him... that he felt softness in his knees. Timothy was now standing right in front of him. His slightly curved mouth was serious, his sweet, fine eyebrows took on a different arch, and his eyes looked up at Andreas from below.
Timothy took both arms, gently wrapped them around Andreas' neck, who was just about to buckle at the knees. Just before Timothy closed his eyes, they formed into a smiling gaze. Timothy touched Andreas' lips with his soft ones and gave him a long, tender kiss. Andreas now embraced his friend's hips. Timothy opened his eyes and looked at the mouth he had just kissed.
He whispered if he had done well, looking politely questioningly into the half-closed doe eyes. After that question, it was too late for Andreas. He hugged Timothy tightly and lovingly and wouldn't let him go. He kissed him on the cheek and on his slender neck, holding him in his arms again. Timothy also made no move to break the embrace.
He whispered against Andreas' neck with half-parted lips: "Never had a friend like you before... don’t wanna miss you..." It sounded sad, and Andreas pulled back a little to look at him. He discovered something pleading in Timothy's enchanting eyes.
The whole sweetness of this boy overwhelmed him, and he didn't know what to do.
Nonetheless, he managed to send his friend an encouraging wink along with a comforting "Hey."
Andreas released the embrace and reached for the two cans of cola. 'Pfft,' it made twice as he handed one to Timothy. Timothy's face lit up again, and he kicked a small branch onto the coals, which immediately caught fire.
Andreas and Timothy spent quite a while in front of their little fire. They poked sticks in the embers, enjoying the precious togetherness more than engaging in conversation. The cookies were eaten, and from time to time, Timothy would grin and pop a piece of chocolate into his friend's mouth. He had turned 14 two months ago and wished that Andreas would be there for every birthday in the future, and also that he would come during his holidays. He himself couldn't travel to Germany very well because money was tight at home, and besides, his mother would be alone.
He asked if Andreas would write to him, poking around in the embers.
Andreas pulled him close and promised. Timothy asked again, "Really?"
Andreas smiled and gave him a light tap on the cheek with the expression: 'You must be kidding! Of course, I'll write to you.' Timothy smiled contentedly and leaned his head against Andreas' shoulder. He eyed his friend's jeans, which had several rips in the thigh and knee area. His right hand wandered there, and his fingers began to tug at a conveniently located tear in the jeans. Then his index finger slipped through the rip and wandered briefly around Andreas' bare thigh.
This tugging, groping, and fondling from these cuddly little ones, combined with the sensation of his snuggled friend, sent a pleasant tingling and warmth to the corresponding area of his body. He felt a flattering goosebumps, causing the fine hairs on his neck to stand up. Andreas enjoyed it and thought: 'Please don't stop... please don't!'
He was sure of his friend, that he too would want to stretch these intense moments out for as long as possible. He just felt it. It became clear to him that he had won over Timothy. What this little guy had done for this evening... really prepared; then the stone... sneaking out at night... the promise of a kiss... the questions of loyalty after writing to each other and whether they would be friends and remain so... now this boy was leaning against his side, lost in thought... his fingers had stopped tugging, and the cute warm hand lay on his thigh.
Sweet! Even that hand had little dimples, the cuddled one discovered.
Andreas was gently interrupted in his thoughts, "Have to leave now..." came a dreamy, hoarse voice from Timothy. After a small moment of realization, Timothy lightly pinched Andreas in the thigh, smiled at him with a 'Doesn't help anyway' look, and initiated their departure. They sprinkled sand over the still glowing, spread-out coals, loaded the little trailer, and set off on the way back.
Andreas walked alongside Timothy, who was pushing the bicycle with the trailer.
He had sunk back into the thoughts from earlier – the emotion over this night’s adventure, the effort and gestures of his friend tingled within him, but also the fact that they would part in a few minutes. Subconsciously, he quietly picked up on Timothy's soft 'puffs' as he had to push some weight... the bicycle with the trailer. Again and again, the 'little one' glanced over briefly to figure out what was happening behind the lightly swaying tuft of hair. Something was indeed happening, as it was just realized that the forest path was about to end! Something urgent was building up in Andreas, something he wanted or needed to share or do before it was too late today!
On top of that, there was the protection of secrecy in the woods and the power of the night.
"Stop!" Andreas whispered and braked Timothy along with the bicycle and trailer by the shoulder.
He whipped his head around and whispered expectantly, "What’s up, Andrew?"
Andreas seemed desperately to search for any English words, quickly gave up, and took it upon himself to briefly put the bicycle on the stand. Timothy stood there a bit bewildered, watching the face that was now positioning itself right in front of his nose. Andreas placed one palm on the back of his neck and the other gently on the blonde hair above.
Just as he was about to say something, Timothy started grinning, and his bright white...
Teeth flashed under his curved upper lip, then he gave Andreas a quick soft smooch on the lips and grinned even more, then he whispered playfully:
“I was first!” Then he let out a short giggle and grinned questioningly.
“Timothy...,” Andreas began, very focused... “Andrew!” Timothy giggled back, throwing off the one who had now placed his hands on the blonde's shoulders. Timothy noticed that his friend was searching for words and couldn't find them,
became more serious. “Fuck!” Andreas cursed and whispered uncertain words as if they couldn't say what he meant:
“Thank you so much for the last hours... ummmm... you prepared... everything tonight... the stone... the wonderful stone... feel so much... cannot say all I want in English... it's much more I can say... fffff...”
As he tried to find beginnings for more fragments, a warm soft palm slid over his lips. This was accompanied by a gentle “Psssssssssssst... shut... up!” and a cheeky grin that slowly made its way to the ear under the quiff. “Aaaaaaaandrew,” it whispered very quietly, “I never kissed with boys before, because I never loved a boy, you know?”
Andreas suddenly felt weak in the knees. He feared any further clarifying words from Timothy and nodded slightly in confusion in response. The whispering in his ear continued: “Did I kiss you, Andrew?” – short pause – Andreas nodded in response.
“O...k…!” came clearly from the ear whisperer, who pushed his face back in front of his friend's and looked at him relatively seriously with his blue eyes.
Everything in Andreas was a jumble; he tried to realize the meaning of the words, his doe eyes desperately searching for a clarifying target. Timothy let out a small moan à la 'Mennoh.' Immediately after, he kissed Andreas once on the cheek and once more on the mouth... this with a certain emphasis in his words.
The last kiss on the mouth made the penny drop for Andreas. The soft lips he had just felt from his friend still lingered on his own, even though he was now about half a meter in front of him.
Andreas pulled Timothy closer, kissing him this time properly and lingeringly on the mouth. The little one returned the kiss, and Andreas felt his palms gently on his back. After that, Andreas sought out the spot under Timothy's ear with his lips, who brushed his cheek against Andreas's. They paused for a moment before breaking apart.
Finally, they made their way back, but at a faster pace.
Andreas felt that what had just happened had almost overwhelmed his friend, no matter how hard he had tried to manage himself.
No sooner had he thought this than Timothy laughed at him, as if in response.
‘Hmmm. Hadn't I felt that before?’ he replayed his thoughts back and forth...
It must have been around half past ten in the morning when Andreas was awakened by the sound of a car door slamming and an engine starting.
He blinked, yawned deeply, propped himself up a bit with his elbows in bed, and squinted, taking in the surroundings, brightness, and sounds with his sleepy eyes.
The window was open, and he noticed his clothes from the previous night hanging out to air on the window sills.
‘Oh right,’ he thought, ‘I hung them there... hopefully, the smoke smell is a bit out!’
But what was that? Next to him was the tray with a full cup and toast with jam. He touched the cup. ‘Oh... warm.’
So Mrs. Smith had already been in with him.
‘Hmm… Did she really let me sleep... Oh yes, today is Sunday and in the afternoon there’s that trip with our choir and everyone from the host families who wants to join and so on…’ he recalled this part of the program.
He threw back the bedspread and stood up determinedly... But then he paused and noticed something: ‘Oh man, I’m not walking down the hall with THAT thing.’
He sat on the edge of the bed and helped himself to the tray. In doing so, he tried consciously to ignore the handicap so that it would disappear, but that took quite a while, especially since he realized that he hadn't gotten to 'that' for three days. But that wouldn't do either; suddenly an idea was swirling in his head.
“Good morning!” Andreas came in, awake, smelling nice, freshly showered and styled, to Mr. and Mrs. Smith in the living room, where they were sitting with tea and listening to a Sunday concert on TV. Mrs. Smith thought it was splendid and reasonable that the boy had gotten such a good sleep after the exhausting concert yesterday.
Mr. Smith gave a benevolent 'Right, boy' sign with his eyes.
Mrs. Smith now mothered Andreas in the kitchen and thought that he dressed really well.
She admired his stylish, slightly tailored gray Loden jacket, a kind of Janka that had a slight traditional touch. Andreas knew that this was a particularly fine jacket. He had been allowed to choose it as a gift from an aunt when he visited her in Munich once. However, he had worn it less out of vanity and more out of the knowledge that being classically well-dressed but casual was in vogue today. He paired it with almost brand-new white jeans and a chic, matching small red-and-white checked shirt with a white T-shirt underneath.
While Mrs. Smith cheerfully flitted around him with a pointed, delighted mouth, trying to keep the boy from starving for the next decade, he thought it would be a good opportunity to ask her if he could run over to Timothy to see if he wanted to join the outing. She suggested she could call there, but Andreas managed to convince her that he would also get a little exercise and that it would do him good.
Mrs. Smith thought that was great, as they hadn’t had a phone back in the day and had to walk several kilometers for every little thing... and in winter... half without food... blah... drivel... back then...
As Andreas skillfully made his way to the front door during her monologue, he didn’t really understand all of it, smiled smartly at Mrs. Smith, and waved goodbye as he slipped away.
On the way, he increasingly quickened his pace to almost a run. This heightened his growing anticipation for the moment he was about to experience. His thoughts were already a few minutes ahead...
He pressed the doorbell of the apartment and ran his fingers through his fresh hairstyle, adjusting his clothes a bit until he heard approaching footsteps. Timothy's mother opened the door and made a sympathetic, surprised ‘Oh’ gesture. She greeted Andreas very warmly in a hushed voice and invited him in. He was already looking at Timothy's bedroom door, but she asked him to come into the kitchen, where she was currently cleaning vegetables. “I think Timothy is tired.” She had already been in there twice, but he was sleeping so deeply that she hadn’t dared to wake him. After all, it was Sunday.
She offered Andreas a kitchen chair on the other side of the kitchen or dining table. Andreas was very impressed by the woman. She was a very attractive woman and had a graceful quality like her son. He even recognized some facial expressions and charm that he liked in Timothy. When the mother asked him something and looked at him so confidently with her blue eyes, it was a tightrope walk for Andreas not to blush or feel embarrassed. Yet he had no reason to blush... or did he??
He felt scrutinized, even though she wasn’t doing that at all. On the contrary. She was just super nice and somehow youthful in her whole demeanor. Almost like a friend.
She came across to Andreas as if Timothy must have told her a lot about him. ‘Well,’ he thought, ‘maybe that’s just her way of being.’
The conversation included topics about Timothy’s school and how it compared to Andreas’s, sports, music and choir, and Andreas’s parents and siblings. She also talked about Timothy and how he tried to be a bit of the "man of the house" and supported her, but that he also struggled in certain situations, at Christmas, birthdays, that he showed more strength than he had.
Andreas understood most of what the mother said. She spoke very clearly and not too quickly, sometimes making a remark in German or saying a German word when she felt he couldn’t follow. For Andreas, it was clear: The mom was great! There was respect involved, even towards her own son.
Andreas now presented his request to see if Timothy could join the outing.
She thought that was fantastic and said he should quietly go over and check if anything was happening in his room.
Andreas quietly tapped his fingernails on Timothy's bedroom door.
He listened... Nothing! He quietly opened the door, walked in, and closed it behind him. He cautiously approached the bed... ‘My goodness!’ it surged in his stomach.
Timothy lay almost completely stretched out on his back, his arms slightly bent upward over his body, his cuddly hands half-open above his head, which was slightly turned towards Andreas.
His upper body was almost uncovered; the blanket had been pushed aside slightly, just below the belly button area. One of his legs peeked out to the side. Andreas could still see the beginnings of a kind of terry cloth pants that were secured above the calves with a drawstring.
An equally snow-white sleep top, also made of that fabric, lay next to the bed on the floor. Andreas gently settled down on the edge of the bed, angled towards his friend, with his mouth slightly open and hardly breathing, while his heart raced more and more up to his throat. He had never been able to look at Timothy this closely without glances, reactions, words, or actions changing or demanding something.
He became aware of this now and wanted to take just a moment to...
"to look at. 'I wonder if Timothy would like that...'
Andreas had already sensed the soul of his friend and his affection.
That this was so incomprehensibly in harmony with this sweetness, loveliness, and grace,
with what lay there in a devoted and simply free, unprotected, open posture, almost drove him mad with love. It had to be love, right? Since last night, he knew that this boy felt something similar. Because it was so, he wanted to allow that for himself as well.
Andreas was amazed. Timothy had to be very athletic and was more of a small teenager than he might have suspected. His chest was already somewhat pronounced and well-defined, not entirely, but somewhat like Andreas knew from a friend who was a competitive swimmer. Timothy also had some weight on him and... 'He's definitely not a little boy anymore,' Andreas thought.
Timothy's hips tapered quite slim, as far as Andreas could tell. The skin must feel silky soft on the surface, but then firm underneath. Andreas took his right hand and placed it five centimeters above Timothy's left breast. 'Would he notice if I touched him?' he pondered with respect for his friend. There was grace, but also a portion of that self-assuredness and clarity in the expression of how he lay there. But then Andreas also saw that familiar deep kindness that Timothy radiated from the inside out.
Very carefully, Andreas brushed the three middle fingertips of his right hand past the left pink nipple. He gently stroked it back and forth a few times, a little up and down. In doing so, he perceived the very quiet, even, slightly high-frequency breaths of the fourteen-year-old. They felt so content and carefree, Andreas thought.
He now took his left palm and placed it on Timothy's belly without pressure, making those little breathing movements with it.
Then he placed it where he believed his heart must be beating underneath. He could feel a little of that rhythm there.
Timothy smacked his lips once, showed his little dimple, and took a deep breath. After a moment of pause, Andreas leaned over his friend so that he could prop himself up on the other side with his elbow. In a way, he had bridged over Timothy, and his legs lay under Andreas' armpit.
With his right hand, he stroked the beautiful body and sank into this caress, while he fixated on what he was doing with his eyes, completely devoted.
He did this for a very long time...
"Äääändruuuu..." came suddenly quite clearly and very lovingly from 'above.'
Andreas looked startled into Timothy's face.
He was smiling from ear to ear and sparkled amusedly from his eyes.
Timothy giggled: "Watched you longer than you think."
Andreas turned bright red and repositioned himself 'more properly' on the edge of the bed.
"Did you check out my body?" Timothy asked cheekily, grinning and running his tongue over his lower lip. The caught one had to swallow. This directness with the truth in the question was mean, but he was relieved...
The bedroom door opened after a soft previous knock, and the mother peeked in. She expressed humorous astonishment over her son's 'finally being awake' and asked what he would like to eat.
Andreas naturally and kindly invited her in.
The door closed again, and Andreas and Timothy looked at each other, with Timothy smiling mischievously again. He enjoyed savoring the certain embarrassment for Andreas once more but then said while getting up with an honest expression, "I enjoyed it!" and playfully tapped his friend on the cheek with one hand.
The blonde went to his wardrobe and opened it. Andreas sat on the edge of the bed and swallowed quietly. Timothy's figure was stunning. Under the slim hips sat these snow-white terry shorts, which fit wonderfully because they had these ties below the knee. Andreas wondered where he should look if they fell now.
Then came the answer: "Do you like my build, Andrew?" Timothy asked while turning his back to the slightly confused boy, putting together fresh clothes from the wardrobe.
"Yes... sure, Timothy," he replied quietly, his face flushed with healthy color.
"Yes or no?" came the slightly giggling question again. Andreas, however, replied more amusedly now: "Yes, of course, man! You are Mr. Universe!"
Timothy turned around and suddenly teased, sounding annoyed: "I’m not Mr. Universe! Sorry!" ... Pause... "You have a great body, Andrew! I watched you in your clothes as well. Sure, I’m not as strong as you are. I’d be happy if I had your body!"
Andreas was completely perplexed. He seemed to have hit a wound with Timothy.
He stood up and walked over to him, who was awkwardly fiddling with his clothes."
"Timothy... I really like your body! You're wonderful, you know? That's why I enjoyed watching you sleep... to taste you..." His chocolate-brown doe eyes wandered lovingly across Timothy's face. Timothy began to smile and said quietly, "Sorry Andrew." "Now I'll drop my pants... if you wanna watch, sit down on my bed!" he commanded cheerfully again. "Or d'ya wanna read something?" he giggled again, pointing at a few comics. Andreas took a seat on the edge of the bed and grinned amusedly.
Timothy turned his back to him in front of the open wardrobe doors and wiggled his hips. Then he sang gaily to the tune of 'Oh Happy Day': "Oh happy aaaass... Oh happy boooody..." He tossed his head from side to side and waved his arms rhythmically in the air.
Then the fluffy pants slowly slid down to the floor. The audience at the edge of the bed shook their heads slightly, thinking, 'This can't be true!' Not only because of the sight but also because of the whole scene that had just unfolded. Andreas laughed and threw himself back onto Timothy's bed.
In the kitchen, Timothy's mother was waiting for the two boys with sandwiches and warm cocoa. Andreas mainly focused on the cocoa, as he had already been well supplied by Mrs. Smith, which he communicated to Timothy's mother with a request for understanding. She laughed heartily at that because she knew Mrs. Smith very well.
The boy from Germany observed how Timothy and his mom interacted with each other.
It was fun in the kitchen! Timothy constantly made jokes or challenged them somehow, pinching her briefly from behind on her slender legs when she was in a favorable position, or taking something away that she had just set down somewhere. But she did it almost the same way in return, taking something from his plate when he was drinking or sneaking up behind him and tickling him firmly at his hips until he squealed with laughter, throwing his head back, with a piece of sandwich bouncing around in his mouth. Then she suddenly turned up the quietly playing radio a bit when she recognized a favorite song. "Oh, Trini Lopez!" she exclaimed cheerfully, and the two spontaneously sang along, nodding and swaying to this old evergreen, in whose refrain something about 'sunshine' came up, the observing boy noticed.
'That fits,' thought Andreas, enjoying the scene between the two. He found it particularly special that Timothy knew such an old song just like his mother, promptly and as if it were natural, and could sing along so easily. It must be some kind of 'insider,' he pondered.
Meanwhile, Timothy had gotten up and was clearing the table, still singing along with his mother, who was busy at the kitchen cupboard and sink. They bumped their hips together occasionally and looked over at Andreas, inviting him to sing along. Suddenly, his friend mischievously kicked his mother on the backside in perfect time, and she cheekily retaliated with a splash of dish soap foam on his cheek when the refrain hit the word 'sunshine.' Timothy then tossed a small, already washed cutting board into the sink, splashing foam onto his mom's face.
The cheeky one took half a run towards the hallway, sparklingly singing, looking into his mom's eyes. She dropped everything she had in her hands into the sink and quickly started chasing after her son. Andreas heard them running through the apartment and finally landing in Timothy's room. "Äähääähäääändruuuuu!" came a loud and pleading voice from there. When the amused guest entered, he saw the mother tickling the wildly defending boy on the bed, with occasional pinches on his backside.
Timothy soon became defenseless due to the intensive treatment and surrendered, lying there, breathing heavily and exhausted.
"Moooooom?" he called out while still lying down to his mother, who was rattling around in the kitchen again. "Timmmiiii?" came the mocking reply in the same tone.
The punished boy wriggled off his bed and made his way, already asking, into the kitchen. He immediately pleaded with the utmost pain in his voice if Andrew could spend the night with him. Andreas had meanwhile taken a seat on the edge of Timothy's bed, but with a strong supportive energy for this request. A few moments passed... then the little one returned, head down, dragged back from his negotiation through the door and stood before his friend.
Then he suddenly beamed, opened his two blue headlights wide, stomped once on the floor, and made the 'Strike' sign. He quickly sat down next to Andreas, put an arm around him, and excitedly whispered under his hanging hair that she had allowed it, and that Mrs. Smith would be called right away to sort everything out.
The two exchanged joyful glances, and Andreas high-fived Timothy's free hand that he held out. Then Andreas looked at the clock and remembered that the trip would soon be starting.
At the agreed meeting point for all choir members from Germany and the English hosts, two large tour buses were waiting. Mr. and Mrs. Smith had also arrived, and Mrs. Smith was unmistakably engaging one of the various groups that had formed here and there around the buses with lively conversation.
Without lingering outside any longer, the two boys hurried into one of the buses and settled into the back seats: Andreas by the window, Timothy right next to him.
When the blonde took off his light coat, Andreas realized that his friend must have really made an effort to dress nicely for the trip.
And he had succeeded! He hadn’t been there when the little one got dressed for the outing; he had still been sitting in the living room with his mother. It caught his attention also because Timothy looked so strange when he revealed his outfit under the coat, as if he didn’t know whether it really looked good: a very stylish, almost midnight blue shirt with an elegant closed stand-up collar, deer horn buttons and a button placket, worn over a very nice beige, jeans-like corduroy pant.
Andreas looked him over, nodded with a dreamy expression... Then, because of the grace and ruthlessly innocent sweetness of his neighbor, a slight blush crept into his face, accompanied by an embarrassed gulp. Timothy first looked at him questioningly, then scrutinizingly. Then the little one looked forward, and his eyes formed into small smiling slits. Andreas immediately did the same... looked forward. Finally, he glanced back again: Timothy was grinning! Almost triumphantly across his whole face!
“Shut up!” Andreas complained, laughing contagiously. Then Timothy made a completely incomprehensible innocent face and giggled with a pressed mouth. “Ass!” said Andreas, grinning, well aware that his neighbor knew the term. In response, Timothy slipped his left hand under Andreas’s thigh. He put his hands in front of his face. The other couldn’t contain himself and burst out laughing.
The bus had by now filled up well and set off after a brief announcement about the excursion program.
The two boys were comfortable back there. The last three rows in front of them were unoccupied, while the other bus was packed full. Timothy tried to convey his knowledge about the area to his friend as simply as possible: This was his school route... that back there was a brewery... a friend lived there... his mother always shopped back there.
Soon they were driving through the countryside, and the two let the journey wash over them in silence for a moment.
Andreas was withdrawn. He could no longer keep it out of his thoughts: They would leave the day after tomorrow! He was overwhelmed by contractions of despair and panic over an simply unavoidable impending farewell... His friend’s hand had slipped back under his thigh a few minutes ago, and he felt its warmth rising up to his heart. But he also wanted to be brave for Timothy so that he wouldn’t feel this hopelessness and powerlessness that he himself was facing. Tears filled Andreas's eyes, and he preferred to look out of his window so that the little guy wouldn’t notice anything.
The hand under his leg moved, disappeared there, and a moment later, it became familiar and warm on his thigh...
“Think of nothing sad,” whispered the familiar voice lovingly that belonged to it.
Andreas looked around. Timothy had something pleading in his face.
‘Why does he always notice everything?’ thought the whispered-to one and placed his hand on the other on his leg, which had started to move its fingers comfortingly back and forth. Now Andreas had to fight even more and knew: He HAD to look out of the window – not into his friend’s face, otherwise everything would be lost in terms of controlling his emotions.
Pffffffffffffffff... Tscchschschsch… The bus had stopped and the doors opened.
Passengers from both buses disembarked, and outside, the German choir director called his charges together to sing a song first and waved his hands to form a quick lineup. Andreas also took his place in the choir.
Andreas watched Timothy as he buzzed back and forth behind Mrs. Smith among the audience gathered in front of the choir, making faces to get him to laugh. Then the blonde stood next to Mrs. Smith, who was enchanted and already melting away before the first note was sung, and tried to imitate her posture and facial expression. When Andreas saw Timothy suddenly turn with a contorted face towards Mrs. Smith’s upper arm and pretend to check her armpit smell for a moment, then pinch his nose with sparkling giggle-slit eyes, Andreas burst out laughing.
His choir neighbor immediately elbowed him in the hip. But she had followed the nonsense too and had to control herself. Timothy noticed this, squinted, made a goofy face, and wobbled stiffly back and forth. The girl next to Andreas whispered, "Where did you win him? He's cute... He was in Germany too, right?" She didn't get a response because the choir director gave the cue.
Timothy shone out from the listening crowd for Andreas, like the only one in color in a black-and-white film, but now stood beaming and respectfully next to Mrs. Smith, absorbing the performance.
The two boys quickly went through the tour, although Andreas took a few moments with his friend at Mr. and Mrs. Smith; he thought it would not be polite to ignore them entirely. Nevertheless, Andreas and Timothy were the first to return to the bus.
They knocked on the front entrance door, and after a while, the bus driver came out from one of the rows of seats... He must have taken a little nap... and opened the door. He was a very nice man who felt he needed to explain the technical details to the boys. Andreas understood nothing except that the thing probably had a special auxiliary brake that could somehow be used magnetically-electrically while driving. At least that was what the bus driver mainly talked about.
Suddenly, the driver of the other bus called over to his colleague and waved him over. As he walked away, he indicated to the boys that they could go ahead and sit inside.
Andreas and Timothy returned to their old seats. They had received a small bag from Timothy's mom and were enjoying sandwiches and orange juice from it.
"Do you have a girlfriend in Germany?" came the casual question while examining the bag for more food options. "Not at the moment," the other replied, tossing his quiff out of his face with a practiced swing. "I had at least ten, even though I am just fourteen!" said the smaller one clearly, causing the big-eyed one to look at him in disbelief. "Really?" came Andreas's slightly uncertain reply. "Or have there already been eleven?" Timothy pondered, placing his index finger on his lips.
Andreas looked at his friend and pointed to a chubby girl who was huffing and puffing as she searched for her seat in the aisle of the bus. "Number 12!" the German teased and gave the spinning girl a strong shove, giggling as she stumbled into the aisle.
She got up and made her way to the girl without turning back to Andreas – "Hi, I'm Timothy!" – and took her little bag to stow it in the overhead compartment.
The registered girl, slightly irritated and turning purple, looked at the pretty attentive boy and plopped down into her seat by the window. Timothy sat down beside her uninvited and started chatting excitedly. The chocolate-brown doe eyes peeked out from behind the second-to-last seat, bewildered, trying to catch what was happening there.
The bus filled up again, and when everyone was present, it set off towards the next excursion destination.
Andreas began to ponder slowly because his friend hadn’t returned and was still lively engaged with the girl.
Had Timothy misunderstood the shove? Or did he want to clarify something with that action? Andreas had retreated deep into the corner of the last seat and was increasingly worried that the seat next to him would remain empty as time passed.
After a while, he felt someone sit down next to him again, and he saw Timothy’s radiant sapphire eyes, his face somewhat shielded by his hairstyle, looking out the window. “Not pretty but very nice!” he heard his friend's convinced voice. The doe eyes let the scenery pass by without storing it in memory. After a while, someone crawled over... “Soooorrry Äääändruuuu...” the blonde boy whispered sweetly into his ear, and a soft warm paw slipped under his thigh.
Andreas looked around at his friend, smiling shyly, the recently fading hurt reflected in his chocolate-brown eyes.
“You pushed me hard and I tried to give it back, but I was just kidding,” Timothy grinned, and then he chuckled mischievously: “Hihihi, you are in loooove, Andrew!”
“Yes!” came the quick reply, and in a flash, he grabbed his friend and tickled him in the spots he now knew well, until the pleading giggles made him slide off his seat. Then he helped him back up, and Timothy adjusted his clothes.
Two more excursion points were visited, and it was getting dark as the bus gently rocked back towards the starting point along small country roads. Timothy had snuggled up to Andreas and had dozed off. Andreas enjoyed feeling his friend so naturally close to him. When it swayed particularly much, he tried to balance the movement a bit so that the cuddler wouldn’t be awakened.
Finally, the choir director made his way down the aisle from the front, stopping here and there for a little chat. Soon he arrived at the back with the boys. Andreas didn’t know how to look or what to do. He struggled not to appear embarrassed and to avoid turning red when the man, nodding in satisfaction while chewing an apple, saw them cuddled up. “Oh, have you found a friend? That’s nice!” he remarked sympathetically and made his way back.
Andreas relaxed again and let a kind of protective shield and harmony bell fall over himself and his cuddled friend. He also had butterflies in his stomach because he knew he would be allowed to stay over at Timothy’s that night... He might never have him so close again... and all to himself.
While he was lost in these thoughts, he noticed that familiar snuggly scent that Timothy somehow had, which also intensified that warm feeling in his presence...
After the excursion, the two boys first went to the Smiths' house so Andreas could gather his things for the overnight stay at his friend’s; then they continued to Timothy’s home, where his mother was already waiting with an evening snack for the two.
When Andreas quickly dropped his backpack with his belongings in Timothy’s room before dinner, he noticed that the mother had set up a sleeping arrangement for him on an air mattress next to her son’s bed during the excursion.
‘Great,’ he was pleased that he could be so close to his friend and that the mother had arranged it that way.
During dinner, Andreas felt an increasingly strong tingling within himself, as he also sensed that Timothy probably felt something similar. It was somehow such that when he tried to fixate on the blue eyes of the boy sitting opposite him, which briefly sparkled intensely, he couldn’t withstand the eye contact. There was something in the air between the two! The blonde seemed almost more fidgety than usual, Andreas noticed, and he had the impression that he might be trying to mask a kind of nervousness.
The mother suggested playing something together in the living room after dinner. She proposed several options, but Timothy seemed to have no interest in any of it.
Then she asked for a report on the excursion, and almost in the middle of it, the little one already said goodbye to get ready for the night. It was already quite late in the evening... a time when the mother would have long since sent her 14-year-old son to bed, Andreas felt.
Andreas was now sitting with the mother, waiting for the ‘green light’ for the bathroom.
He realized that the beautiful woman was now becoming quite thoughtfully friendly-serious...
She started, "You must be a very important person for Timmy..." She hadn't seen him like that in a long time. "I think he likes you very, very much..." she said, looking somewhat concerned... and continued that it was a pity he didn't have someone like that here and that Timothy didn't usually or rarely formed such close friendships... He didn't necessarily let everyone get close to him... but... maybe that was a good sign, and she smiled kindly and nodded at Andreas. "I see, you like him a lot too, don’t you?" she smiled. He became very embarrassed and a flush spread across his face. He also felt his palms getting sweaty. She looked at him very smartly and almost amused: "I’m not blind... I can read it in your eyes!"
He hardly dared to look her in the eyes... awkwardly fluttered his doe eyes...
and replied with a small and short "Yes!"... then he had to swallow.
The mother smiled at him kindly: "Hey... that’s ok...", leaned forward towards Andreas,
briefly placed her hand on his knee and repeated softly, but very firmly and
playfully winking: "That’s ok, Andrew!" Laughing, she then added that she herself was not always immune to HIM, especially when he wanted something or when she actually had to be strict.
"Readyyyyy!!!" came a cheerful shout from the hallway, and a door slammed shut.
The mother and Andreas exchanged grins, both knowing they were thinking the same thing.
The boy tossed his hair out of his face, stood up, and made his way to his friend's room.
Timothy was already half sitting up, the blanket pulled almost to his neck, happily sparkling with his eyes in bed when Andreas entered with a bouncing heart. He was just about to routinely pack his toiletry bag and pajamas to go to the bathroom when Timothy, with a cheeky demanding expression, said: "No, no, no Andrew... drop your clothes HERE!", and giggled. "Now it’s your turn!"
Andreas paused for a moment, but then grinned back awkwardly and stood in the middle of the room. The blonde first turned his little bedside lamp towards Andreas, who then had to laugh. "Fiiies!" he managed to say, which the other probably understood in meaning, as Timothy looked even more amused and cheeky.
Andreas slowly unbuttoned his jacket and threw it on the floor... then his shirt...
while he risked a glance at the observer, whose blue eyes had taken on another dimension,
whose cheeky grin had shifted to a kind of fascination.
Then the performer unbuttoned his white jeans, revealing his dark blue fitted shorts underneath. Without pause, he then pulled his T-shirt over his head and let it fall. Then Andreas stood there with his head tilted and hair styled, arms on his hips... throwing his friend a smart-embarrassed grin.
Timothy looked at him with wide eyes directly into his chocolate brown ones... Then the blue-eyed boy grinned back shyly and said softly: "Yeah… stop it," giggling a bit and making a 'please-hold-on' hand gesture. Andreas reached for his toiletry bag and another pair of shorts and went to the bathroom.
When he returned, he saw Timothy sniffing somewhat dreamily at his white terry cloth top. He wasn't wearing it again; it seemed to serve him somehow as a comfort object. 'That's why,' Andreas suspected, 'it had been on the floor this morning.' He tried not to grin, even though his friend was actually past that age, because it just looked too cute. Hardly had he thought that when Timothy became lively again and buried the top somewhere under the blanket.
Andreas slipped into his spot on the air mattress, and Timothy turned his bedside lamp so that it cast only a very soft, dim glow.
There was a knock at the door... The mother came in, asked if everything was ok, brought two glasses of orange juice, and placed them on the bedside table. Then she leaned over Timothy, who hugged his mom and made smacking sounds two or three times. Finally, she looked down at Andreas, smiled at him, stretched out her arms, and Andreas moved a bit closer. She hugged him with a "You are very welcome to stay with us during your holidays and whenever you want, Andrew," and gave him a warm kiss on the cheek. This left him speechless, sitting dumbfounded on his air mattress. He turned to Timothy, who seemed somewhat surprised by his mom as well and commented on it with a gesture that expressed something like 'Wow, you've really got a good deal there.' The mother left the room with a goodnight wish.
When Andreas asked if she would come back to check on them, the blonde waved his hand dismissively: "Hm... I don't think so," and grinned.
They looked at each other silently for a while... Andreas felt his diaphragm start to flutter
as Timothy looked down at him from above with a melting gaze and definitely checked him out a bit. Then the smaller boy flipped a part of his blanket around and slapped his left hand on the sheet to invite Andreas to crawl under it. Very gently, he looked at his friend with his doe eyes.
Looking into the suddenly large blue headlights, Andreas slid under the blanket next to Timothy. This little nest was fluffy and warm, and the soft, incredibly inviting scent of the sweet boy made him feel cozy. "Hmm... oooh... C.K?," the blonde asked softly, enjoying the light scent of perfume.
"Yes," grinned the curly-haired boy. Pause... Looking... Eye conversation...
'I will probably wake up in my bed soon and have to get up,' Andreas thought... He noticed the small dot on Timothy's upper lip again, and he traced his eyes over those fine eyebrows, those familiar, internally released eyes that said everything about the nature and soul of his friend… This carefree, kind-hearted, loving little guy with a big heart... who was so self-assured, aesthetic, and graceful, so close to him... who wanted to be with him... touched him so deeply, and his feelings spread throughout his body.
Without controlling it or thinking, Andreas slid his right arm under Timothy's shoulder and pulled him closer. Timothy reciprocated his gesture by wrapping his right arm around his friend's neck. Their lips touched tenderly, and a dialogue of small, soft, waiting, slow kisses began. Andreas's heart was filled with devotion as he felt a small, soft, warm hand gliding over his chest, gently wanting to turn him onto his back. He sensed that the little one was getting more excited; he trembled slightly all over. Now he had leaned halfway over him and was gently exploring Andreas's chest with his paw. He gazed at his upper body with dreamy blue eyes and kissed it once, then on his neck, and again on the mouth.
Then he slid a leg with a bent knee over Andreas's right one, his right arm under his neck, and prepared for a very long and intense kiss on the mouth. Andreas wrapped him in both arms, and this kiss was destined to be one he would never forget.
Timothy's engagement became even more intense, as he had now almost pushed his entire body over Andreas and was kissing him almost frantically and with all his devotion. Andreas felt not only his own excitement but also that of his young friend very acutely, among other things, from his breath, and dared to open his eyes. Small tears came from Timothy's eyes, looking at him almost pleadingly. "Don't leave... don't leave..." he heard desperately whispered…
Andreas gently turned Timothy onto his side, kissed him tenderly on the forehead, and said, equally perplexed: "I'm not able to do a thing... Timmy..." After that, streams of tears flowed from Andreas's doe-like eyes. He cried bitterly, pressing his head against his friend's chest, which he kissed here and there. The small, soft paws ran through his hair and around his neck, "Will never forget you, Äääändruuuuu," it whispered, sobbing.
So they simply lay there for a while… feeling each other and having each other…
When Andreas lifted his head from the little sporty chest, he felt his own half-dried tears on it. He looked into the eyes of the sweet boy... they looked at him lovingly with a slight smile. But… there was something else... something was sticking in his abdominal area when he briefly tried to detach from his friend... he glanced down... then it whispered from above: "Sorry Ääändruuuu…," and he looked back into a slightly embarrassed, smiling blue-eyed face that also shrugged its shoulders briefly.
Andreas chuckled a little to himself, Timothy immediately caught on and burst into laughter, struggling to suppress it...
It became quiet again between the two, and their eyes conversed in a way that expressed love, respect, and a special bliss.
As Andreas let his shining doe-like eyes wander over Timothy's almost reverent face, trying to capture every detail, he gently stroked his forehead and lightly pushed his blonde strands aside.
A moment later, his friend's warm right paw wandered behind his left ear and tenderly unfolded its smaller soft fingers there, whose silky fingertips began to circle and stroke in a way that took Andreas's breath away.
Soon the corresponding body followed timidly, allowing Andreas to come back into a slightly reclined position. The sweet blonde lightly cuddled his left cheek over the right chest of the fifteen-year-old and let his hand glide down from his neck and left arm, after which it began to make the most tender, slow circles on three fingertips over Andreas's left chest and abdomen, around the navel and back up.
Andreas simply felt a great warmth flooding his body everywhere the little one touched him, and from those circling fingers, small, highly sensitive waves of feeling were also sent into him.
He had pushed his right arm behind Timothy's back and responded to this tenderness on his back...
After a while, Andreas began to signal small signs and letters with his fingertips... "Tiiiii... emmm... emmm... Timmy," came a barely perceptible whispering response from him. "Elll... why…(LY)…," he continued guessing... Then Timothy lifted his head, gently kissed Andreas on the cheek, then blinked his two small, half-closed, happily sparkling blue eyes one more time and
responded, almost only moving his lips: "I love you, too, Andrew," and cuddled his head back onto Andreas' chest. Andreas gently stroked his blonde hair, and as he let his hand wander over Timothy's hip, he noticed that his body relaxed even further. After a while, Andreas perceived the steady, soft breathing of his friend, who had half fallen asleep on him. He didn’t dare to move even a millimeter...
He didn’t want to... he just wanted to enjoy it... as if it had to last for a long time or forever... If only he could protect him and what made him who he was... But now he lay there, cuddled up warmly and intimately with him, he could feel and smell him with his cuddly scent, he felt his soft breath on his chest,
his arm half over his belly, where the small warm hand had found its place next to the navel.
Andreas closed his eyes in this feeling and was just about to drift off to sleep contentedly when he noticed a soft creaking of the floor in the room, yet he felt no panic or thoughts of escape from this situation... Everything just didn’t matter to him...
Someone simply took the blanket and gently and motherly laid it over their bare upper bodies, while Timothy smacked his lips a few times and wrapped his free arm around Andreas' belly even more.
That was the last thing Andreas registered before dozing off, then he fell asleep.
Andreas blinked... Brightness tickled his face... Fingers kneaded on his back... "Ääääändruuuuuu…," tickled in his ear...
Then he turned completely onto his stomach and let his eyes fall shut again...
"Aahh... mmmmmhhh…," he moaned contentedly and first enjoyed the wake-up massage.
Then: "Ufff!" Someone had sat down just behind his butt on his thighs and got to work on his back with their little hands. With this action, he noticed how his shorts slowly but surely slipped further down over his 'cheeks'. He tried to stop this with one arm from behind, but 'Patsch' he was gigglingly maneuvered to the side. "Yeah, yeah, yeah!" triumphantly exclaimed Timothy and slapped him on one 'cheek' and pinched the other. Andreas made a small liberating 'bunny hop' and pulled his pants back up, turned around laughingly complaining, and saw a hyper-awake, cheekily grinning face. Then Timothy lay his whole body on Andreas and began to start a big cuddle. He tickled him under the hip bones, under the armpits, and in every wicked tickle spot he could reach. The blonde had put on his white terry top, and Andreas tried to annoy him by always finding a cuddly spot to tease his friend with the 'snuggling'.
After a while of frolicking on the bed, Timothy cuddled up behind Andreas in a sort of fetal position and made a plan with him to surprise his mother, who was surely still sleeping, with breakfast. When Andreas wanted to make preparations to get up for that, Timothy held him back from behind and whispered: "Äääändruuuu...?"
"Yes?" he whispered back... but somehow nothing came... Andreas turned around. "This night..." "Yes?" he smiled... "I will never forget it… Will YOU ever… forget... Andrew?" came, accompanied by large, sincerely questioning blue lightning eyes. Andreas thought he couldn’t hear correctly... And a wave of nostalgia shot into his eyes. Almost desperately and insistently, but quietly, he replied almost spelling it out: "N e v e r! Timmy... Never!" He conveyed his whole expression through his chocolate brown loyal eyes.
He pulled the sweet guy close to him, hugged him tightly, and softly repeated: "I will never forget this night, and I will never forget every little moment we had together!" Then he gave him a tender kiss on the right cheek. Two warm palms held him firmly on his back, as if they never wanted to let go...
"The Breakfast," said Andreas, and they resolutely separated. Timothy was already sneaking into the kitchen, and Andreas pulled a long-sleeved T-shirt from his backpack.
The little one directed which bread and which jam Andreas should use, got an old kettle going, and fiddled with a large dented tea canister and a teaspoon.
Once everything was arranged on a tray, Timothy guided his friend with the tray to his mother's bedroom. She welcomed the two, happily reading a book in bed. The tray was placed on a chair by the bed, and the boys sat down on the edge of the bed, one on each side. While the blonde shoved one little jam sandwich after another into his mother's mouth, regardless of whether she was speaking or not, Andreas tried to explain what was on his agenda for the day.
Today both choirs would participate in the farewell concert, the English boys' choir in which Timothy sang, and the choir from Germany. Soon the boys left their mother's bedroom again. They still had some time, didn't have to get ready immediately, and hoped that their mother would let them have a little more time...
Timothy had taken a seat cross-legged on his bed and was sniffing at his white terry cloth top. Andreas crouched down on his air mattress and thought. They had just discussed the schedule for the day with their mother.
Soon he would be picked up by Mrs. Smith and driven to his choir rehearsal. Timothy also had a final rehearsal with his boys' choir shortly before the joint farewell concert. After that, there would be a final gathering, winding down, and... saying goodbye at the town hall, as most English hosts had to go back to work or school the next day. Timothy also had to go back to school the next day. So... no big farewells at the bus... and certainly not from his friend...
When Andreas looked up at Timothy, he noticed that Timothy had interrupted his introspective sniffing and was now looking at him seriously and worriedly with big questioning eyes.
"I believe we can meet after the concert," a response winked out from under his tuft.
"Think you’re right," came the quiet reply. Andreas knelt in front of his friend's bed and took his right hand in his own. He looked into the graceful and slightly sad face of his friend and gave him an encouraging, one-sided wink with his chocolate-brown eyes. Timothy responded with a small, shy smile, briefly pressing his curved lips together, which activated his little dimple.
Then Andreas brought Timothy's small paw to his mouth, spread it out like a little treasure on his palms, and gave it a gentle kiss... then another... and another... and began to grin... Then he pulled the terry-covered arm to his nose and playfully sniffed it... He inhaled deeper into the fabric, and Timothy began to giggle. The blonde boy took his other soft paw and cheekily poked it against his friend's cheek, who immediately got up and cuddled the little one on the bed, using his tried-and-true method to tickle him in 'revenge.' Timothy squeaked, giggled, and whimpered for mercy. In between, the tuft also found his belly button and gave it a strong blow with his lips.
The little grabbers of the blonde one tugged at the tuft and pinched the attacker’s nipples, but he managed to drain the little one’s strength with the tickling program.
A quick kiss on the heated cheek of the defeated, and Andreas let go of him.
After a short pause, Timothy stood up, stunned but with a plan on his face, stomped over to his small desk, pulled out little notes and two pens. Without words, both understood: write down addresses and numbers for each other! Then Andreas put his friend's note into his backpack, took off his long-sleeved shirt, and stuffed that in there too. Then he went to the bathroom to get ready, as Mrs. Smith would be picking him up soon. As he stomped down the hall, he received a "It’s about time" from his already dressed and made-up mother, who was busy in the kitchen.
When Andreas returned to Timothy's room, Timothy was bustling around his desk with his upper body bare, hurriedly putting away notes and pens. Then he ran into the bathroom.
The fifteen-year-old made his way to the kitchen, where he received a small breakfast from his friend's warm-hearted mother. "You slept well, Andrew?" He smiled shyly: "Yes, I did," and kept looking up at her under his tuft, checking for reactions while spooning cornflakes with milk. He politely thanked her for letting him stay over. She put down what she was holding and sat down at the table with Andreas. "He will be very sad..." she said kindly, brushing the tuft from his face. He looked up with slightly distorted, straining eyes and quietly replied, "Me, too," glancing helplessly around, trying to trick his bursting heart by spooning in more cornflakes, but it didn’t work.
In that moment, he didn’t know where to go but felt the mother’s caring, which set this newly ignited engine into motion. In his eyes, the dam burst, and with cornflakes in his mouth, he cried bitterly. In the throes of his feelings, he swallowed frantically to finally catch his breath. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around the mother and hid his face against her body. She gently wrapped her arms around Andreas and said something like: "I’ll definitely have the program again tonight or tomorrow," laughing encouragingly and warmly comforting.
As this boy calmed down and offered the mother a "Thank you,"
Timothy began to sing in the bathroom. It was his soprano voice, apparently practicing passages from the upcoming concert program. Andreas looked up with his still watery chocolate eyes... 'this couldn't be true...' 'Please, not that too,' he thought, trying to catch a comment from Timothy's mother's face. She was almost grinning away and had nearly the same slanted headlights as her son. Andreas was infected by her smile and shook his head at this simply 'incredible' thing his friend was doing, which the mother was equally familiar with and acknowledged at that moment.
A moment later, bare, still wet feet tiptoed across the hallway... "Two minutes!" came the cheerful shout... then the door to his room slammed shut.
"Moooooom..." came the call a moment later from there. The mother briefly sagged in a 'mennoh-like' manner, laughed, and made her way toward Timothy's room. As she disappeared inside, Andreas heard whispers and pleading sounds from his friend. Then the mother returned to the kitchen with a respectful 'Ohhh... aha' expression on her face about what had presumably been discussed or requested in there.
There was a knock at the apartment door. "Mrs. Smith!" rushed through Andreas's mind. No sooner had he thought that than he heard her voice: "Timothy, my dear," smooch smooch... and there she was, swaying into the kitchen, accompanied by the little one, who, now dressed, stood crookedly behind the 'proper' lady and was rubbing the Smith smooches off his cheeks with a dissatisfied serious face. Just as Andreas was about to give his friend a smug grin about it, the familiar, well-filled flower costume blocked his view. He stood up obediently and hoped for mercy regarding what had befallen the little one. He could handle the warm-hearted balloon pusher, who only briefly took his breath away.
He quickly made a dash to grab his things from Timothy's room. There, he found a boy who had been attentively set up and was all ready. Andreas put on his stylish jacket, threw the backpack over one shoulder, and glanced around the room for something he had left behind. The blue eyes followed him until he finally stopped in front of them. They sparkled, the little one threw on his heartfelt dimpled grin and hopped over to give his friend a kiss on the cheek. Now he pulled him close, tugging at his upper arm with one hand, and whispered: "Ääääändruuuu..." Andreas felt a familiar goosebumps sensation in his ear... "See you at the concert... And after..."
The one who was tingled dropped his backpack, embraced his friend, and returned a gentle kiss behind his ear, accompanied by a soft: "Okay, Timmy."
Andreas quickly picked up his backpack again, winked back lovingly with one chocolate eye, and left the room.
The two boys only made eye contact again when the two choirs took their positions half left and half right in front of the audience of the English host city.
Even on this early evening, all seating capacities were filled. A colorful program was presented in alternation, leading through many styles. The last performance took place in collaboration between both choirs in English, which could not be rehearsed beforehand, but worked excellently and was conducted by the English choir director.
Andreas felt a particularly deep connection to his friend during this, being able to look over at him and read his feedback from his face.
In general, he had the impression that his entire choir, whose individual members had found friends in the city, could convey a particularly open and liberated expression to the audience, which united in the finale with the English choir.
After the last sung note had faded, there was a respectful silence for quite a while before the apparently impressed audience gave a very sustained, thunderous applause in return. Then the choirs left and disappeared into their respective 'backstage' areas. Soon they were to gather with their host families, the English choir, and their entourage for a farewell buffet in the dining rooms, without changing clothes.
As Andreas entered these rooms, he immediately looked for white robes, especially for one in particular that enveloped a blonde boy. "Andrew!" he heard an exuberant female voice... Mrs. Smith! Accompanying her were Mr. Smith and Timothy's mother. Andreas was first thoroughly embraced and charmed by the plump lady. Then came a warm handshake accompanied by words of praise from Mr. Smith, and then Timothy's mom beamed at him, who was also filled with the performances.
Then a glass clinked for a speech through some speakers, and the mayor gave a speech... Very lengthy and almost never-ending, as Andreas found, who restlessly let his hair fly this way and that and zoomed in on every corner he could to find his friend.
After the applause for the speech, the German choir director began his response.
and acknowledgments. Andreas was almost going crazy, where was Timothy? Seeking help, he looked at his mother, who shrugged her shoulders in ignorance and now also looked around to help, but somehow seemed amused. Andreas sensed something... and looked past Mrs. Smith, who was a significant visual barrier. He glanced around her, and there, moving in sync with his movements, was a corner of a white robe, trying to blend in.
'Snap!'... he caught him and pushed the hefty Mrs. Smith, who exclaimed "Ohhh!" and looked around in confusion. Timothy flashed a cheeky grin with his dimpled smile at Andreas's relieved but 'Just wait!' expression.
The little one pulled him close and whispered with a grin in his ear, "Did you miss me?"
"No. Never!" came the grinning reply... as he poked the robe-wearing boy in the hip.
Then he repeated his answer in a whisper very close to his friend:
"Yes... surely I missed you!" "Psssssst!" came the admonishing voice from Timothy's mom. The two boys stood as if they were the well-behaved prize winners of the month. From the side, Andreas felt that he shouldn't look at Timothy. He heard a small struggle to suppress laughter coming from there and looked down a bit, where he noticed a little further ahead the penny heels (!) on Mrs. Smith's delicate shoes, in which her feet barely fit. Timothy pretended with his somewhat clunky shoes to kick one of those heels, which could have meant an accident of incredible proportions in a real situation.
Andreas quickly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and stifled his laughter into it. Then he heard Timothy squealing next to him; by then, it was all over.
Fortunately, at that moment, all the chatterers in the audience began to clap, drowning out the outburst in applause.
Soon the buffet was opened. The boys politely moved in the cover of Mrs. Smith to the laid-out dishes and were fascinated by what all fit on their plates. In a goose-step, the three adults sought a table with the two friends in tow, where they could all sit together.
Andreas was introduced to some buddies of his friend, who occasionally appeared at his place, while the adults chatted here and there after the meal, sometimes at this table, sometimes at that.
At the end of the event, the English choir director called the boys' choir together once more and made a closing announcement for the evening, asking not to applaud after this performance.
As Timothy made his way to his position, Andreas felt a deep pain and something like fear rising in his body and soul. He sensed that immediately after this performance, he would have to say goodbye to his friend.
The hall fell silent, and the fifteen-year-old stood frozen, savoring these last, still unfinished minutes, wanting to see and perceive his precious conquest just a little apart from the action, there.
The boys in soprano with Timothy began to introduce a very emotional, wonderful, old-English melody that slowly built up into four-part harmony. It was so quiet among the listeners that one could have heard the breaking of a matchstick. For Andreas, it was the purest and most touching thing he had ever heard from such a choir.
Gently and fading into silence, the boys soon let the last chord resonate.
In the hall, everyone remained moved until the choir director let his boys leave, row by row, passing closely by Andreas as they exited through a folding door.
In his moved state, Andreas found Timothy's mother's face with his gaze, who gave him a clear signal to follow her now.
He walked through the folding door and saw the English boys putting on their coats and one by one going outside through a side door.
He then saw Timothy taking off his robe, putting on his light coat, and slowly approached him. "Ääändruuu," the boy exclaimed with a small voice when he spotted his friend and quickly buttoned the last button.
By now, they were alone in this room; the last of the other boys had closed the outer door behind them. It was quiet.
“Timmy…,” Andreas began, now looking into a well-behaved and brave, graceful face…, “it’s time...,” his voice trembled now, as his chocolate-brown doe eyes filled with tears and his knees became weak.
The little one was struggling; he could see it. His sweet, blue eyes began to grow restless and searched for help. A small tear formed in the corner of his left eye.
The soft, lovingly curved mouth began to twitch slightly as he pressed his lips together, the little dimple flickering on and off, on and off again, and the little nostrils flared.
Andreas felt tears running down one cheek now, and his vision blurred.
He quickly rubbed his right hand over his eyes to see more clearly... Timothy was now illuminating him with devoted, water-soaked, indescribably love-filled and grateful blue beams, and the face of the fourteen-year-old, which was bravely trying to hold on yet must give up, began to weep bitterly. His eyes fell and looked back down in despair.
At this point, Andreas burst out, tears streaming down his cheeks. It tore at his soul; he looked up at the ceiling, then back at his friend, and from the depths of his heart, he expressed to him: “Love you, Timmy... love you... I really love you my friend...” “Love you, too, Ändruuu... I really love you so much, tuuuuuu,” came the response from the dissolving counterpart in a very high, hoarse, almost singing voice.
Then Timothy swallowed twice, wiped his face with his small palms, approached Andreas, placed his warm, damp paws on his neck, pulled him close, first gave him a smooch on the cheek, and then a conscious, final, loving, and tender kiss on the same spot.
Andreas mirrored this and tasted his friend's tears.
Slowly, they let go of each other and for a brief moment, their eyes spoke.
Timothy stood there, tear-streaked, having assumed his brave posture.
He took a step back... and: “Bye Äääääändruuuu...,” came the very quiet and hoarse whisper from him...
“Bye Timmy…,” Andreas replied, swallowing hard...
The little one flashed his sweet blue eyes once and gave his friend one last familiar look..., then he suddenly turned quickly toward the exit door, pushed it open, and dashed outside.
From outside, Andreas heard him running away with his voice breaking into tears, calling: “I will miss youuu!”
Mrs. Smith had taken Andreas to the meeting point the next morning, from where a bus would take the choir from Germany to the ship to Harwich.
The boy stood outside with Mrs. Smith and the last people still saying goodbye, having already put his luggage on the bus and secured THE seat in the back left corner of the last row.
Mrs. Smith had, of course, ‘forced’ plenty of treats for the journey on him.
Just as he was about to say goodbye to the nice, warm-hearted lady, an old rusty Morris stopped behind the bus. Timothy's mother got out and hurried purposefully toward Andreas... with a small package in hand.
“Andrew...!” she called. Andreas' heart leaped with joy. She quickly hugged the boy, looked lovingly and checkingly into his face, affectionately tousled his hair, and held out the small package to him. “Timothy wanted me to give this to you... it’s all his work...,” she explained, almost moved.
Andreas looked at her, tense: “What’s this?” he asked.
She reported that Timothy had begged her to please, please bake his Christmas cookies for Andreas. However, they were the only ones he could make, she laughed.
He had immediately started baking those funny cookies yesterday after Mrs. Smith had picked up Andreas. Even though it wasn't Christmas... Andreas absolutely had to have these cookies from him for the trip. Timothy insisted on that.
The recipient was completely blown away. ‘How can someone even come up with something like this... Typical Timmy!’ he thought to himself and felt immense joy.
He noticed that Mrs. Smith and his friend's mother were now talking about exactly that. “Lovely... and oooohhhh,” he heard Mrs. Smith exclaim with delight. The women were greatly amused by it.
The bus driver soon instructed all passengers to board: “The ship isn’t going to wait for us!”
Andreas warmly said goodbye to the two women... Timothy's mother threw him a flying kiss as she walked to her car.
The bus set off for Harwich, and Andreas had just managed to squeeze the small cookie package into his backpack and now let the scenery pass by in his little corner at the back of the vehicle while he dreamily looked out the window. He tried to start processing the experiences...
His emotions ranged from joy to great love and profound separation sadness to happiness over this deep friendship with this boy.
In such a short time, he had received treasures upon treasures from him... He thought of the cookies... of the stone from Timothy... he had something from him... but mainly in his heart...
‘Hehe, the first night when he stood in front of the window... then that action in the woods... and the twinkling blue beams...’
... Why couldn’t someone just whisper ticklishly in his ear...
... Sleep.
The passenger and car ferry ‘Prinz Hamlet’ sailed into the night.
Andreas had just retreated to his cabin, which he shared with three others.
He was alone and wanted to be alone there. The others were at the ship's disco or somewhere else on the ship.
He began to unpack things from his luggage that he wanted for the night. From his backpack, he first took out the package with the cookies and opened the paper. Reverently, he took out a cookie and examined it.
"Ha ha!" He had to laugh. It was a rather misshapen cookie, looking as though it had been made with some fine motor difficulties, and he grinned as he imagined how Timothy must have awkwardly shaped this cookie with his little paws.
"What a concept," Andreas amused himself and bit off a piece...
"Delicious! Clearly delicious!" They were undoubtedly tasty, great cookies, and at that moment, they were the most special cookies in the world to him.
Completely uncontrolled, while he was still grinning, his eyes became moist...
A moment later, he half-crying closed the bag and carefully set it aside,
dug further into his backpack and searched for his long-sleeved shirt for the night.
He had stuffed it all the way at the bottom... But it wasn't there! Nevertheless, something white was hidden there... he took it out... "NO!", he said loudly. He jumped up and ran around the cabin with it... Timothy's white terry cloth snuggle top!
He let it fall apart... A small note fell out and onto the floor.
Andreas sat down on his bunk with the note and read it with the feeling as if the
voice that had written it was speaking: "Aaaandreeeeeew... sooorrryyy.... I changed
the shirts.... Kisses!..... Timmy." There was also a smiley on it.
Andreas started to cry, thought: 'Is he crazy now?', and for a moment pressed this snuggle piece with its familiar, soft, and sweet scent against his face.
Then he quickly tidied up his things, lay down in the bunk, turned off the light, and
gently placed his cheek on the white terry cloth... now well aware that Timothy was probably lying just like that on his shirt and had chosen a corner of the sleeve to snuggle with contentedly as he fell asleep.
The ship reliably pushed through the night, occasionally vibrating slightly from the engine, rocking gently now and then in the waves, lulling the boy into a deep sleep