2025-07-11, 07:52 PM
Boy out of dem choir
"Now, everyone, get ready. 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 turn our attention to Andreas, a 15-year-old dreamer, sensitive, never the most important person in the class, but not a loser either. He was dark blond, with large, chocolate-brown eyes. His hair was neatly parted, and one of his smart, fine eyebrows was almost hidden by his quiff.
He always had to tilt his head slightly so he could see well, much to the annoyance of his mother, who told him twice a day that he finally needed to go to the hairdresser.
There was a cool movie on TV, and Andreas wasn't really in the mood for this stupid concert by a youth choir from England, from the town's twin town, even though he sang in the choir himself and a girl from the choir was staying at the house. But she was already at church.
In the church, neighbors in the third row from the front had reserved seats for this family on the mercilessly uncomfortable pew.
At some point the church door was closed when everything was packed.
After a welcoming speech and program, the choir came in. At least 50 young people in long white robes with ruffs.
It was a combined choir made up 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, the overall sound touched him, a kind of sweetness, heart and gut feelings.
To his far right, a blond boy stood in the front row of the choir. He guessed he was 13 or 14. His gaze kept falling on him. He was grace personified, looking like a little angel, concentrating devotedly and staring at the conductor with apparent respect.
When this boy stepped forward with his dark-haired singing neighbor of the same height and sang a two-part duet solo part with him, it was all over.
Andreas got goosebumps and focused all his attention on this boy. Andreas was completely embarrassed and overwhelmed.
'This angel is so close, yet so far away. An Englishman. I wonder what family he's staying with? How will he speak, what will he be like otherwise? Is he a good guy or an asshole?'
But for Andreas, it was clear: 'Someone who can sing like that and even does that number... he must be awesome. Or does he just have strict parents who force him to do something he doesn't even want to do?'
Well... Andreas knew he'd never meet him—or was there a chance? They'd 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 notice me... somehow!'
But the conductor was the target for the cute blond guy, Andreas realized.
'He wouldn't have to look past the conductor that much...'
'Phew,' thought Andreas and turned to his family to the right and left,
'I hope they didn't notice what was going on with me.'
But they were fixated on the choir. 'Good.'
After the concert, Andreas tried to somehow spot where all the choir members from England were hanging out. No chance!
There was a lot of activity with the host families, and somehow there was no way to get closer. The host girl who was staying with Andreas' family was already at her mother's side and was walking to the car to drive home.
When we got home, we sat together in the living room.
The girl from the choir was showered with praise for the concert by Andreas' parents. Andreas sat obediently by, 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.
He soon found out which local host family Timothy was staying with. "Oh, shit... with THEM of all people!" Andreas thought.
Since the host parents were good friends with Andreas' parents, he knew: 'They're strict, you can't just go there, they're very rich people who are so "ete petete".'
Andreas had a hockey game the next day and no chance to participate in the excursions and programs with the guest choir.
Timothy was constantly on his mind. His singing and his entire appearance made his heart race and a kind of longing in his stomach.
The next day, Andreas had no chance to see the choir again.
But there were now photos of the first performance at the church, which the guest girl brought with her. Andreas immediately stole one of the prints and secretly put it in his desk.
Departure day! Andreas and his family brought the guest girl to the assembly point where all the host families, local choir members, and the visiting choir from England were gathered.
The choir serenaded the bus. Timothy was nowhere to be seen in the crowd. Andreas stretched in all directions, running around the back of the listening crowd, but he didn't spot him.
Finally... As everyone got in, he saw him: Timothy! He recognized him by his blond hair, the only one with that hairstyle! A sort of bowl cut, with long bangs in the front, long hair on top, and a tapered cut in the back. A totally American teen hairstyle, really.
Andreas felt like he wanted to call out, but he didn't dare.
As the blond boy struggled through the bus with a small backpack over his shoulder, Andreas ran parallel outside.
Finally, the Englishman found a seat on the bus, on the window side next to Andreas, and looked out. 'Yes... he's looking at me... he sees me!' Andreas thought.
Andreas stopped and looked at the boy on the bus with his big chocolate eyes and a sad look on his face. The boy didn't seem to be bothered by the rest of the crowd either... instead, he looked Andreas straight in the eyes. Timothy had blue eyes and actually looked more Swedish than English. The blond guy on the bus seemed kind of excited; he slapped the window twice with the palm of his hand, clearly aimed at Andreas. Timothy frantically looked back and forth in the bus and then straight into Andreas's face. Then there was a "pffffffft" and the bus doors closed. Timothy slumped slightly in his seat and let one of his palms slide off the window. Andreas raised his right arm, made a slow waving motion... and left his hand held slightly raised in the air.
Timothy smiled briefly, but seemed sad. He then pressed his lips together, and Andreas could see that the blond man had a dimple on one side.
The local adult choir spontaneously began singing a song. A great deal of waving and shouting erupted. The bus slowly began to move.
Andreas ran alongside Timothy, smiling broadly. He tried to convince Andreas with hand gestures that he should run faster... Andreas gave it his all, but soon he couldn't keep up. The entire crowd from the village fell behind, and Andreas stood alone on the side of the road, waving a final goodbye.
Upon returning home, Andreas immediately stomped into his room. He laboriously dug out the photo of the choir in the church, saw Timothy there in his white robe, and became absorbed in many thoughts... He guarded the photo like a treasure.
It was Saturday night. Andreas had brought some apples from the attic of the house, which were stored there in the dark on old slatted frames.
They were from the last harvest in the garden. He always did this when he couldn't fall asleep, wanted to read late, listen to music, or had to think about something for a long time.
He had an old cassette recorder next to his bed, which he occasionally used to record his piano playing, especially when he was improvising... making something up. Andreas had already taken his first piano lessons at the age of 5, classical lessons, but he also played in a school band on grand piano and keyboards.
He often just played in a mood. For him, it was like writing letters when he was melancholic, really angry, or in a really good mood.
Now he was lying half-upright in bed, his pillow pushed back behind his neck, listening to his own recordings on the cassette recorder. He was chewing on an apple.
Suddenly, he heard a passage of his piano playing that he immediately rewound and had to listen to again. He did this a few times and then pressed stop! He jumped up and dug the photo of the choir out of his desk, took it to bed, and listened to this piano passage over and over again.
'Yep!' This music matched his feelings when he saw Timothy in the photo. Something hurt terribly, but he didn't understand it.
It was a boy, after all, but for Andreas, it was an angel with a singing voice that had completely moved and touched him. Andreas knew himself how intimate soprano singing was for a boy, and Timothy looked so noble and simply beautiful. And the scenes and gestures during his departure... His head and stomach were reeling.
Andreas was suddenly totally agitated, almost angry, because these feelings wouldn't leave him alone.
He kept thinking about the boy. He was annoyed that he'd gotten himself so worked up about it. 'Everything's lost anyway! Timothy's in England, 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 left England.
Andreas went to choir practice, like every week.
There, the choirmaster introduced the group: "Dear people! You surely remember the wonderful days we spent with the choir from our twin city in England." Andreas opened his large, chocolate-brown eyes. "In two months, we'll be traveling over by boat, then a bus will take us there, and we'll stay with host families." He then explained the program to be performed and everything that needed to be organized. Andreas's heart almost stopped, and then it was pounding in his throat!
With the note about the plan for his parents in his hand, he pedaled home as fast as he could to discuss everything there.
The day of departure approached. Andreas had been thinking repeatedly about what he would do or say if he saw Timothy again... if he were to face him...
'Will Timothy even be there? Will he have choir guests from Germany at home? Will he even remember?' and, and, and...
Andreas decided to bring Timothy something. Something personal! Regardless of whether he even noticed him, regardless of what happened!
It was evening, no one was in the house. The siblings were with friends, and the parents were invited somewhere. Only Andreas sat at the piano, had switched the cassette recorder to record, and was playing. He played and played, recording everything that came to mind, everything he felt, onto the tape. Completely undisturbed. When the cassette was full, he labeled it, 'Timothy' on one side and 'Andreas' on the other, and wrapped it in midnight-blue paper with stars and moons on it. Then he placed the small package between his clothes in his almost-packed travel bag. He kept taking it out and wondering if it would look good... too much, or could it come across as a declaration of love? 'Shock!'
At times, it ended up in his backpack because Mom always repacked the entire suitcase at the end. 'She'll notice something later!'
'Shit!' went through his head, 'he's laughing his head off! What kind of boy is so uncool with such sensitive shit?' Yes, Andreas was about to freak out. He hit himself in the head and asked himself how stupid he really was. Then he stood in front of the mirror in the hallway. 'Do I look like a girl? Am I crazy? What makes me tick...' he pondered.
Andreas scolded himself... "Nonsense, man, I'm a good boy... I don't look like shit and I can look mean when I want to."
"Damn... why do I have such soft features on my face? You can totally see that I'm a wimp. No, I'm not!" He slammed the case shut, sat down at the piano, and started hammering away...
Kisses... "See you again, my darling, and have fun! Did you bring your score? Here... you have a few extra pounds. Be careful on the ship and don't run around on deck at night... blah... blah..." That was the mother's vaccination right in front of the bus, and in such a way that everyone could hear it... Andreas thought to himself as he finally freed himself from the clutches and boarded the bus with his backpack.
YO! It was finally starting. To England... to the ship! Pokpockpock! Andreas had just snagged a window seat when he turned to the window in shock. 'Mommy wants something else...'
Andreas didn't understand anything. The bus closed its doors and FINALLY started moving.
The bus journey and ship passage to Harwich, as well as the subsequent bus ride to his English twin town, left Andreas little time for deep thoughts. There was singing, dancing in the ship's disco, and jokes told in the cabin at night. The bus driver on the English side was the ultimate joker and kept everyone in a good mood. He roared through England in his bus at full throttle, which caused the choir director to worry.
face put on.
FINALLY. Meeting on the market square in the English twin city, with allocation among the host families (that's what the program said).
With honking, the bus turned into the square and stopped in front of a crowd... the welcoming committee, consisting of the host families and members of the choirs from the city. Andreas was excited. His heart was racing, and he scanned the waiting crowd with a strained gaze for... Timothy. No sign! He didn't seem to have come. In fact, none of the boys from the boys' choir seemed to have shown up.
When Andreas's name was called for "Mr. and Mrs. Smith," Andreas stepped forward, and a fat, round woman in a horrible floral suit writhed toward him. But she beamed from ear to ear and said loudly, "Andrew. Very, very welcome..." Then Mrs. Smith and Andreas headed toward an old light blue Vauxhall.
'What an ugly car,' thought Andreas. 'But the old woman is nice.' Andreas, well-behaved and well-mannered, gave in to the task. His duffel bag and backpack were loaded, and he looked the part: a dark blue Timberland jacket, brand-new, perfectly fitting dark blue Diesel jeans, light brown camel shoes, and a blue-and-white checked Tom Tailor shirt. His quiff was perfectly blow-dried all over... he'd even put on his CK B cologne.
Mrs. Smith was completely captivated by this boy and shoved him into the passenger seat. With a jerk, they took off, and Mrs. Smith talked without stopping to breathe. Andreas had to catch his breath, too, because she drove on the left and sat on the right, and the way the old woman drove, he still had trouble judging the traffic. Besides, he only understood half of it, after all, he'd never been to England before.
The exciting journey ended in front of a small detached house. The Vauxhall was still idling for a bit as Mrs. Smith started fiddling with the trunk. Next to it was an old Rover 3000. 'Probably Mr. Smith's car.'
A gaunt man then opened the door of the house and warmly greeted Andreas. They went into the living room. Andreas was stuffed with homemade baked goods, and photos were shown on both sides—of children, siblings, and parents—and Andreas was quickly rechristened Andrew.
Andreas reported on the English choir's visit to his hometown, how great he thought the concert was, and especially the soloists. "I think one of them was called Timothy."
„Yes! Timothy D...!” schmetterte Mrs. Smith. „He lives with his mom, 10 minutes from here. Would you like to visit Timothy?” Andreas blieb fast die Uhr stehen: „Emmmm... no… yes…emmm... we don't know each other... perhaps... later... or…” Zu spät!
Mrs. Smith already had the telephone receiver in her hand: "Maggy?..." She seemed to be talking to her mother... Andreas turned bright red and would have liked to open a trapdoor beneath him.
Crunch! Mrs. Smith had slammed the receiver down, delighted from ear to ear, and informed Andreas that the boys had just had choir practice at church. "Mother will send him over later!"
Andreas felt he must be so red he could have been sold as a light buoy. He felt stress building up inside him, and he kept rubbing his quiff in embarrassment, feeling his palms sweat...
Mrs. Smith had cleared the guest room for Andreas. She was now bustling around the kitchen, and Andreas had gone there 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 frantically unpacked his duffel bag 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 corridor in shorts and with his toiletry bag, 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 the doorbell rang. "THE FRONT DOOR!" flashed through his mind. He paused, electrified, and listened.
He heard voices outside in the hallway, doors slamming. Quiet!
He quickly brushed his teeth, wrapped himself in a large white bath towel that had been laid out for him, and rushed across the hallway to the door of his guest room. As he did so, he heard Mrs. Smith call from a distance: "Timothy is waiting in your room!"
Too late! The door to the room slammed open and shook as it hit the doorstop.
Andreas opened his eyes in shock and stopped by the door. Equally shocked, and with an expression of having been 'caught,' the blond boy turned around. He had apparently just been inspecting some things from Andreas' backpack that were lying on the bed.
The shock lasted for a moment. Andreas tried to find English words.
The blond man stood there rooted to the spot. He looked his counterpart up and down with his plush blue eyes. Once there, he stared at Andreas's feet and suddenly a broad smile spread across his face, revealing a dimple on one side next to his sweetly curved lips. 'What's going on?' Andreas thought, looking down. A white blob of toothpaste shone on his right big toe. He looked into Timothy's face, and at that moment, both of them burst into a small, liberating laugh.
Andreas reached for the clothes he had taken off earlier and indicated with brief body language that he was 'just going to put something on,' left the room and went back into the bathroom.
When Andreas, smartly dressed, entered the room again, Timothy was sitting on the edge of the bed.
A slight blush crept across Andreas's face. He had trouble looking directly at Timothy for long, as he looked so graceful and beautiful.
He wore a smart black shirt, buttoned all the way up, over beige and white trousers. What was somewhat conspicuous, however, were his very thick-soled, well-polished loafers.
“My name is Andreas... emm... Andrew,” Andreas said.
„I know! My name is Timothy.” „Ok… Did Mrs. Smith tell you?” fragte Andreas.
„Yes, but I know your name since the day we left your city in Germany with the bus!”
Surprised, Andreas looked into Timothy's eyes, which now expressed a certain mischief. Timothy explained that he wasn't the only one on the bus who had witnessed Andreas's sprint next to the departing bus. The girl who had been a guest at Andreas's home and had also been on the bus had witnessed the scene and told Timothy who the athletic boy was and how much she had enjoyed her stay with Andreas' family.
Timothy knew how many siblings Andreas had, what school he went to, that he was a hockey player, played the piano, and sang in the youth choir.
Andreas was stunned! Finally, he sat down on the edge of the bed next to Timothy, some distance away, and tried to say something to Timothy in awkward 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 blushed and embarrassed again. He still remembered how fixated he had been on Timothy in the church.
He respected Timothy. There was something very clear and self-confident about him, even though he seemed half a head shorter than Andreas and was certainly a year or two younger. His speaking voice suggested that his voice hadn't yet broken, or was only beginning to break, but it was still very pronounced. Andreas was familiar with this; he also had a trained voice and, at 15 1/2, could still sing alto.
"It's great to meet you, Andrew," Timothy suddenly said, a little more quietly. He looked down at his legs, which he was swinging back and forth. Andreas looked at him sideways.
A moment later, Timothy turned his head to Andreas, looked briefly into his eyes, and then looked back at his dangling legs.
"I'm happy we did meet now," said Andreas. The 'happy' came out in his voice, but the rest came out in a whisper. Timothy looked back up at Andreas and gave him a slight smile, a hint of dimples, and pursed lips.
A gong rang out with powerful clangs from the direction of the kitchen. It could only be Mrs. Smith. "Äääändruuuuuu.... Timmethäääyyyyyy..." rang out through the hallway. 'DINE! Yoooo!' Andreas and Timothy looked at each other determinedly, nodded in unison, stood up, and set off.
Mrs. Smith was quite excited and made it clear that they should dig in now; there shouldn't be anything left over! Mr. Smith smiled and nodded in agreement, looking pleased at the two boys he and his wife now had at the table.
Timothy sat across from Andreas. Just as the blond man had a much too large piece in his mouth and was cramming it into his cheek, Andreas looked him straight in the face. Timothy stopped chewing, and Andreas noticed that a fit of laughter was brewing inside him.
Andreas pointed with his eyes to a large, kitschy bowl on the table that had a duck head with a long beak on each side as a handle.
Timothy paused, his eyes wide open. His diaphragm cackled, and he did everything humanly possible to keep his mouth closed. Andreas heard his quiet, desperately suppressed inner cackle and, now on the verge of bursting into laughter himself, fixed his gaze on Timothy's increasingly gloriously slitty blue eyes, which were becoming slightly watery. Mrs. Smith, who somehow picked up on the reference to her bowl, looked at the boys.
She announced that this magnificent and particularly valuable bowl came from a special shop in London, and that she had purchased the entire range from this series...
That was too much! Timothy jumped up and ran into the bathroom. Andreas tried to pull himself together and explain to the somewhat startled Mrs. Smith that Timothy had just choked... and that it really was a particularly beautiful bowl! Mr. Smith, looking at Andreas with understanding, put his napkin to his mouth and grinned into her.
Timothy came back, his eyes moist and taking a deep breath.
He said something like: "Ohh... I'm very sorry... blah blah...", and after sitting down again, he kicked Andreas right in the shin under the table, looking at him cheekily with flashing eyes and a fully activated dimple.
This day of arrival in the small English town was for Andreas and the host family
at leisure. The next day there was to be a reception at the town hall, and in the evening the first concert in the town hall.
After dinner, Mrs. Smith suggested that Timothy could show Andreas the area before it got completely dark, and they agreed on a return time of 9 o'clock that evening.
The two didn't need to be told twice and after a few minutes they left the house together.
They now giggled again about the funny situations at dinner
and Timothy explained that he wanted to show Andreas his school from the outside,
Then he'll be home. His mom, by the way, is super nice and the greatest person in the whole world. Andreas will get to know her, too.
Andreas could not always fully understand everything that Timothy said,
But somehow it was much more important to him not to interrupt him. He would much rather pay attention while listening and 'have to' look at the blond boy. This way, he could now explore him, his facial expressions, his entire appearance. Every little detail had an impact on Andreas. Everything he perceived about the little Englishman, he found incredibly beautiful, noble, super-smart, with a feeling of the sweetest enchantment in his stomach, but also a large portion of melancholy, which had something to do with a kind of feeling of inviolability.
Andreas also realized: 'That's right, Timothy is about half a head shorter than me.'
“'Like your hairstyle,'” suddenly appeared in Timothy's babble.
Andreas was somewhat interrupted from his thoughts, but he wasn't sure if he'd understood correctly. Andreas struggled for something to say.
"I like you very much, too!" he replied. "Excuse me?" came from the other side.
Timothy looked at him as if he really didn't understand a thing.
'Shit,' thought Andreas, 'good thing he didn't understand that.'
He collected in English: “I have to see the barber soon.”
"No, no, no!" came the reply. Andreas gave a charming, doe-eyed glance at Timothy, whose blue eyes winked back smartly.
The school was now visible in the distance. Timothy briefly indicated it with a finger, without a word. He then explained everything to Andreas, leading him around each building. They then strolled further down the street. The houses became simpler and finally
They were located between apartment buildings made of old red brick.
The people seen here and there appeared to be workers. Suddenly, Timothy jingled a set of keys and opened the front door of one of these houses. They trudged up an old staircase in a somewhat dilapidated stairwell to the third floor.
The blond boy turned to Andreas with a quick smile, pressed the doorbell, and then unlocked the apartment door. "Mom!" he called, throwing his keys onto a dresser. Andreas closed the apartment door behind him and stood there, looking around briefly, waiting.
It was a simple interior, but very tidy and immaculate. A door opened, and Timothy's mother approached them with a warm expression on her face. 'A beautiful woman!' thought Andreas. Very athletic and aesthetic, with long blonde hair tied back in a long ponytail.
Timothy politely introduced Andreas, and his mother shook his hand. She asked if they wanted to come into the living room, but Timothy said he wanted to show the visitor his room first.
Andreas entered Timothy's kingdom. Everything was tidy, and there weren't many
Furniture inside. The white robe hung on a closet under a transparent sheet.
"Have a seat, please," said Timothy, pointing to the edge of the bed. Andreas dutifully sat down.
The 'little one' dug a photo album out of the cupboard and sat down very close to Andreas, keeping his body in contact. He turned on his bedside lamp and turned it so it illuminated the album. Then he began to talk... how his father was no longer alive... that they had lived better lives back then... but that his mother was doing a great job of everything, and he opened the album as he did so.
Andreas had to concentrate hard to understand the essentials. A warmth spread through him during Timothy's presentation, and he enjoyed this closeness.
He now noticed the hands that showed and explained this and that in the photo album.
Of course, these hands also had to reflect the charisma of this boy next to him
They had to be the softest puppy paws in the world,
Andreas. He noticed that they hadn't even shaken hands yet.
While Timothy was talking and explaining intensely, Andreas noticed how it was in his
His neck began to tingle. He got goosebumps.
Timothy spoke quietly, sometimes almost whispering. He ran his hand over vacation photos, some of which included his father. Andreas turned more and more often to Timothy, who was completely focused on the album. He sensed his emotions, which must have something to do with the photos.
Andreas felt like he had to put his arm around Timothy and fought a
A struggle to do this or not to do it. Suddenly the thought struck him
the precious time they could only have together.
He did it! Very gently, he placed his left arm over Timothy's shoulder, who paused for a very brief moment, but then continued just as before.
Andreas wanted to slowly pull his arm back, but when Timothy
right hand diagonally backwards and stopped the process, the arm back there
moved to where he was before. Without interruption, he continued with his English presentation
continue to the photos.
Having reached the last page of the album, Timothy left it open
as it was, looked down and fell silent. Andreas examined him with his large
dark brown, shining doe eyes from the side. He could see that in the
a tear had collected in the far corner of his neighbor's eye.
Andreas briefly pulled Timothy towards him. Timothy slowly looked up and then smiled
Andreas looked at him lightly, sniffed briefly and quickly wiped both eyes with the back of his left hand.
Andreas himself was at his emotional limit. He hadn't understood everything, but
Timothy looked ahead again, closed the album, and with a
discreet, sweet smile and a short shrug of the shoulders made it clear that he was fine and everything
continue. Andreas could tell that from his facial expression.
Timothy wanted to stand up and put the album back in its place, but Andreas held him back with his arm around his shoulders; he was shocked by his own gesture because he hadn't really controlled it.
Timothy looked at the closed album, then forward, then turned to Andreas. Andreas felt a kind of apprehension in his stomach, almost as if he had to go to the bathroom. Timothy's eyes wandered very slowly from one doe-eye to the other; he also seemed to scan Andreas's eyebrows and his face in general. Andreas noticed a certain seriousness in Timothy's face and, in doing so, discovered a small dot on one side just above his counterpart's upper lip. Having just noticed this, his sparkling blue eyes formed into a warm, benevolent smile. The corners of his eyes, along with his fine eyebrows, betrayed it.
Timothy jumped up: "'Wanna show you something," reached for a small desk
and took a small tin box out of one of the two doors.
He sat down on the floor, beckoned Andreas over and placed the box in the middle.
He removed the lid. Inside lay at least 20 small and large artfully
sprayed and painted stones... in a kind of graffiti style. 'So this is a hobby of
Timothy.' Andreas thought they were beautiful and each stone was very special.
The little Englishman noticed how fascinated his counterpart was by his hobby. While they took out each stone and examined it intensively, Timothy
He started humming quietly, then a little louder, and finally he sang: "Oh happy day... oh happy dayiiieay..."
Andreas laughed and joined in a second voice below. He also knew
this gospel song perfectly. Timothy beamed, stood up, and both of them really got going.
They looked at each other to be in perfect sync. Timothy really vibrated and started
to improvise over the lead voice, phrasing up to his highest soprano head voice.
Andreas had to concentrate hard to keep the tempo of the basic chant exactly. "Yeah!" Timothy shouted, approaching Andreas, jumping up at him with excitement, and crossing his legs behind his hips. "Mom!" he called, reaching out with his long arm.
for the door handle. “Moooom!” “Yes Timmy, I heard it! It was great!” came from the
Living room called.
Timothy landed on his feet again, stood in front of Andreas, smiled brightly at him and asked energetically: "FRIENDS?" Andreas raised his arms to exchange blows:
“Friends!” he replied happily and liberated.
The ritual clapped loudly, 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 the entire time he was in the city.
His mother laughed back sympathetically and explained that this wouldn't work; after all, Andreas was staying with the Smiths, and that couldn't be changed. But perhaps they could arrange it that way for once; she would discuss it with Mrs. Smith. But Andreas had to go back today.
As she said this, she looked at her watch, tapped the dial a few times, and alerted the boys that it was almost time.
"I'll bring you back!" Timothy declared resolutely and began sorting the stones back into the tin box. Andreas watched him, relaxed and happy, munching on a cookie at the same time.
Ten to nine! Timothy had brought his new friend right on time to the house of the host family where Andreas was staying.
"Ten minutes," he noted on his watch, leaning his buttocks against Mrs. Smith's old Vauxhall. "Yes... ten minutes," Timothy acknowledged, doing the same.
It was dark and a nearly full moon tried to cast a small glow through passing veils of clouds, some thicker and some thinner.
The two hadn't talked much on the way. They had quietly hummed 'Oh Happy Day' once more to cover up the lack of conversation.
Andreas was filled with joy from this evening and he somehow felt the same from Timothy, who had smiled and blinked at him every now and then as he walked away.
"At night I always get the best emotions to compose and to play the piano," he said dreamily. "'Would like to hear it, Andrew,'" came Timothy in a questioning, low voice.
“Can I tell you something?” Andreas now trembled cautiously.
"Indeed. What's up?" asked the blond boy, his blue eyes shining expectantly at Andreas. Pause... Andreas searched for words and smiled, smart and embarrassed.
"Come on... what is it?" came the reply. "'Couldn't forget you since I saw you the first time in church. I wished to meet you so badly... the whole time..." Andreas breathed out almost voicelessly, looking everywhere but into the eyes of the boy next to him. He wasn't saying anything at all right now.
Andreas finally risked a quick glance and saw that Timothy was still looking the same, but there was a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth, towards his dimple.
Andreas's doe-eyed eyes began to flutter. Timothy could clearly see Andreas's eyelashes fluttering erratically. He tried to take in Andreas's entire face, which Andreas turned away slightly when he noticed this. Timothy took his left hand out of his trouser pocket and placed it on Andreas's, using it to brace himself against the cold tailgate of the Vauxhall. Andreas felt the smaller, silky paw, its soft fingers gently trying to dig under his. The small hand squeezed slightly, and the voice that accompanied it said very quietly but firmly: "I'm impressed." Pause...
„No one ever said things, like you did, to me before.“ „Echt?“, brachte Andreas heraus.
"Excuse me?" Timothy immediately replied. "Emmm...wow..." Andreas shook his head with an embarrassed grin on his face, signaling that he was clueless and at the end of his creative process.
Then something seemed to occur 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'll be back in a few minutes!" Andreas hurried past her into his guest room. He dug the small package containing the cassette tape out of his luggage and stormed back out, past a somewhat surprised Mrs. Smith, who posed a noticeable obstacle.
Timothy greeted Andreas right at the front door. Andreas pushed Timothy back behind the car and held out the small package. "For me? What's that?... Why?" the smaller man whispered tensely, taking the package from the hectic man, crouching slightly and staring at Andreas with a mischievous smile and dimpled eyes.
Before Andreas could even say that he shouldn't open it yet, the boy had already removed the paper. He stared at the cassette. "Andrew," he read..., turned the cassette over, "Timothy?" he read questioningly from the other side of the gift. Andreas stood before him, excited, almost doubtful.
“Äääändruuuuu!”, it rang out from the front door. “Come in please!”, it came emphatically.
Timothy turned on his blue eyes, shining them on the man who was currently experiencing an emotional collision. Out of the blue, the blond boy's right paw shot up, quickly grasped Andreas's neck, pulled him toward him, and kissed him on the cheek. Just as quickly, he let go and ran out into the darkness.
Andreas stood there rooted to the spot, rewinding the film of the last few seconds in his mind a few more times. Yep! He was infatuated! And to the point of pain! Was this just a conquest, or had he completely thrown the little guy for a loop, even caused some damage?
He finally trudged into the house. Mrs. Smith greeted him and asked what he wanted: food, drink, and more time to sit together. Andreas indicated that it had been a wonderful evening, but that he was now very tired. They briefly discussed the schedule for the next day, then he undressed, crawled into the guest bed, immediately turned off the light, and let Timothy's thoughts revolve around all of the impressions of the day and everything he found so fascinating about him. The bed's enormous blankets and soft mattress were comfortable, but unfamiliar.
He'd barely calmed down a bit and allowed himself to settle in when someone knocked on the window from outside. He jumped up! 'NO...!' he thought immediately, crept to the window, opened it, and two cheeky blue 'spotlights' flashed at him! "You're crazy!" whispered Andreas. "Come out," giggled Timothy. Andreas uncertainly stroked his messy quiff. "Okay, but only 5 minutes," he acknowledged.
Timothy jumped excitedly around in front of the window, checking his surroundings. Andreas quickly slipped into makeshift clothes and crawled out the window. "Your mother, Timothy?" "I told her that I forgot my keys in your room... hehe!"
“Okay,” Andreas whispered 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 asked back. "I didn't say 'Thank You' for the present!" "Of course you did!" Andreas whispered.
"How?" Timothy wondered. A short pause... "Ermm... you kissed me."
"Yes, I did," Timothy grinned back, embarrassed. "I was highly surprised," hissed
He passed Andreas' ear, giving him goosebumps all over his body.
The blond, blue-headlighted boy now positioned his sparkling sapphires directly in front of Andreas's eyes, so that their noses were almost touching. "I hope we're friends for a long time from now on, Andrew," came in a very soft and gentle voice, while Timothy leaned his warm hands on Andreas's knees.
Andreas had to swallow, and warm feelings spread through him. His goosebumps were off the scale, and his attraction to this gorgeous, graceful, sensitive boy forced him to fulfill his desire. Timothy noticed something in Andreas's face.
The little boy was just beginning to doubt his words with "Pardon?" because he didn't understand Andreas's expression. His expression was now flooded with all his emotions. His doe-eyes closed, and his lips slowly approached his counterpart's right cheek. There they placed what was probably the most tender kiss Andreas had ever wanted to give anyone. He waited a moment before looking Timothy in the eyes, suddenly aware of what he had just done.
Very carefully he pulled his head back and opened his eyes.
The blue headlights were on, complete with dimples.
Timothy slumped back onto his heels and let out a breath. Andreas raised his smartly arched eyebrows slightly in question.
After a short pause: “Be assured: You will get such a kiss as well, my friend!”, the little one smiled, his grinning mischievous face and slanted eyes on.
Andreas grinned back, relaxed.
"Piano?" Timothy asked happily, pulling the cassette out of his pocket. "Piano!" Andreas replied in confirmation.
They paused for a moment. Timothy put the cassette back in.
"Tomorrow?" Timothy asked quietly, in a somewhat embarrassed tone. "Tomorrow!" Andreas replied cheerfully in a whisper.
Andreas then stood up and climbed back through the window into the house. Timothy came to the windowsill from outside and stretched his arms up. Andreas bent down and hugged his new friend. He briefly nuzzled his face into his collar and breathed deeply through his nose. Timothy giggled softly. They separated, and the 'little one' stepped back from the windowsill. He gave Andreas a happy look, set off, and breathed a 'bye' as he walked away.
Andreas closed the window, undressed again, and snuggled contentedly under the enormous blanket. Now he realized how tired he really was. Nevertheless, he began to think about the possibility of even meeting his new friend the next day. A fairly extensive schedule lay ahead: a welcome at the town hall, a rehearsal, a dress rehearsal, and a concert in the evening. 'Well... maybe he could find a bike somewhere...'
As Andreas thought about this, the active activity in his head switched off and sleep took over.
"Good morning!" Andreas breathed into his ear from no more than a foot away. His eyes widened and he saw Mrs. Smith, with a delighted expression on her face, clattering a tray onto his bedside table. He realized he wasn't covered at all; he must have kicked himself free in his sleep. He quickly got 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 asked if he had slept well and handed him from the tray
an oversized mug. Andreas sipped with a fake grateful, good-natured face
and stated: 'Tea with milk and at least 6 spoons of sugar!'
'Not sweet at all,' he thought, 'but lovely!' He glanced at the tray, whereupon Mrs. Wirbel-Smith announced that it was toast with special, original English jam and that he should come straight to breakfast...
'Breakfast? What did I just get here???' he wondered, irritated.
Andreas felt the draft that Mrs. Smith caused by her speed,
as she happily left the room again.
'Wow,' he thought, and briefly fell back onto the pillow.
Then he nibbled on the toast, which was surely made with love, with his long teeth.
Yeah... he had to eat them somehow.
When Andreas left his guest room freshly showered and dressed, he
a scent that suggested something fried.
'Ugh! Fried bacon and eggs...' But there was no escape!
Mr. Smith assigned him a seat at the table, where another huge cup, containing the same contents as the one by his bed, was waiting for him. Mrs. Smith joined him and savored every bite Andreas then brought down.
Mr. and Mrs. Smith took the boy to the town hall, where the mayor officially welcomed the choir from the German twin town.
The guest choir sang a serenade in return. After the applause, Andreas immediately broke away from the line-up and turned to the choirmaster, asking if he could take time off from the upcoming tour and the subsequent 'get-together' with all the host families until the rehearsal. That was out of the question today, he said, but gave Andreas a friendly wink to indicate the emphasis was on 'TODAY'. Somewhat agitated, Andreas acknowledged this with a smile: "OK!"
The boy let the day pass. He was feeling dissatisfied, but tried to appear smart and polite. He kept looking around, keeping an eye out...
Andreas was excited! He was standing on a platform in the second row in the alto section of the choir, relatively centrally. The Stadthalle hall was filled to capacity. They had just positioned themselves in front of the now waiting English audience. The coughing and chatter gradually subsided as the conductor stepped in front of the choir. Andreas's eyes frantically scanned the audience, trying not to miss the choirmaster, who would be giving the cue at any moment. As the choirmaster raised both arms for the cue, Andreas's glance briefly wandered over the galleries. And... YES! He was there! Timothy was standing to his right in the gallery, which was not open to the audience. Andreas quickly smiled up at him, and a moment later the conductor, who gave Andreas a 'look out, please' look, gave the cue.
Andreas felt Timothy's gaze; he didn't really need to risk it,
He occasionally glanced up at the gallery, but he did, and almost every time he received a satisfied grin in return. Timothy had placed his arms flat on the balcony railing and rested his chin on his clasped hands. Sometimes he even tilted his head on his arms. You couldn't sit up there, and it certainly wasn't the most comfortable way to sit through a two-hour concert.
"Now, everyone, get ready. 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 turn our attention to Andreas, a 15-year-old dreamer, sensitive, never the most important person in the class, but not a loser either. He was dark blond, with large, chocolate-brown eyes. His hair was neatly parted, and one of his smart, fine eyebrows was almost hidden by his quiff.
He always had to tilt his head slightly so he could see well, much to the annoyance of his mother, who told him twice a day that he finally needed to go to the hairdresser.
There was a cool movie on TV, and Andreas wasn't really in the mood for this stupid concert by a youth choir from England, from the town's twin town, even though he sang in the choir himself and a girl from the choir was staying at the house. But she was already at church.
In the church, neighbors in the third row from the front had reserved seats for this family on the mercilessly uncomfortable pew.
At some point the church door was closed when everything was packed.
After a welcoming speech and program, the choir came in. At least 50 young people in long white robes with ruffs.
It was a combined choir made up 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, the overall sound touched him, a kind of sweetness, heart and gut feelings.
To his far right, a blond boy stood in the front row of the choir. He guessed he was 13 or 14. His gaze kept falling on him. He was grace personified, looking like a little angel, concentrating devotedly and staring at the conductor with apparent respect.
When this boy stepped forward with his dark-haired singing neighbor of the same height and sang a two-part duet solo part with him, it was all over.
Andreas got goosebumps and focused all his attention on this boy. Andreas was completely embarrassed and overwhelmed.
'This angel is so close, yet so far away. An Englishman. I wonder what family he's staying with? How will he speak, what will he be like otherwise? Is he a good guy or an asshole?'
But for Andreas, it was clear: 'Someone who can sing like that and even does that number... he must be awesome. Or does he just have strict parents who force him to do something he doesn't even want to do?'
Well... Andreas knew he'd never meet him—or was there a chance? They'd 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 notice me... somehow!'
But the conductor was the target for the cute blond guy, Andreas realized.
'He wouldn't have to look past the conductor that much...'
'Phew,' thought Andreas and turned to his family to the right and left,
'I hope they didn't notice what was going on with me.'
But they were fixated on the choir. 'Good.'
After the concert, Andreas tried to somehow spot where all the choir members from England were hanging out. No chance!
There was a lot of activity with the host families, and somehow there was no way to get closer. The host girl who was staying with Andreas' family was already at her mother's side and was walking to the car to drive home.
When we got home, we sat together in the living room.
The girl from the choir was showered with praise for the concert by Andreas' parents. Andreas sat obediently by, 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.
He soon found out which local host family Timothy was staying with. "Oh, shit... with THEM of all people!" Andreas thought.
Since the host parents were good friends with Andreas' parents, he knew: 'They're strict, you can't just go there, they're very rich people who are so "ete petete".'
Andreas had a hockey game the next day and no chance to participate in the excursions and programs with the guest choir.
Timothy was constantly on his mind. His singing and his entire appearance made his heart race and a kind of longing in his stomach.
The next day, Andreas had no chance to see the choir again.
But there were now photos of the first performance at the church, which the guest girl brought with her. Andreas immediately stole one of the prints and secretly put it in his desk.
Departure day! Andreas and his family brought the guest girl to the assembly point where all the host families, local choir members, and the visiting choir from England were gathered.
The choir serenaded the bus. Timothy was nowhere to be seen in the crowd. Andreas stretched in all directions, running around the back of the listening crowd, but he didn't spot him.
Finally... As everyone got in, he saw him: Timothy! He recognized him by his blond hair, the only one with that hairstyle! A sort of bowl cut, with long bangs in the front, long hair on top, and a tapered cut in the back. A totally American teen hairstyle, really.
Andreas felt like he wanted to call out, but he didn't dare.
As the blond boy struggled through the bus with a small backpack over his shoulder, Andreas ran parallel outside.
Finally, the Englishman found a seat on the bus, on the window side next to Andreas, and looked out. 'Yes... he's looking at me... he sees me!' Andreas thought.
Andreas stopped and looked at the boy on the bus with his big chocolate eyes and a sad look on his face. The boy didn't seem to be bothered by the rest of the crowd either... instead, he looked Andreas straight in the eyes. Timothy had blue eyes and actually looked more Swedish than English. The blond guy on the bus seemed kind of excited; he slapped the window twice with the palm of his hand, clearly aimed at Andreas. Timothy frantically looked back and forth in the bus and then straight into Andreas's face. Then there was a "pffffffft" and the bus doors closed. Timothy slumped slightly in his seat and let one of his palms slide off the window. Andreas raised his right arm, made a slow waving motion... and left his hand held slightly raised in the air.
Timothy smiled briefly, but seemed sad. He then pressed his lips together, and Andreas could see that the blond man had a dimple on one side.
The local adult choir spontaneously began singing a song. A great deal of waving and shouting erupted. The bus slowly began to move.
Andreas ran alongside Timothy, smiling broadly. He tried to convince Andreas with hand gestures that he should run faster... Andreas gave it his all, but soon he couldn't keep up. The entire crowd from the village fell behind, and Andreas stood alone on the side of the road, waving a final goodbye.
Upon returning home, Andreas immediately stomped into his room. He laboriously dug out the photo of the choir in the church, saw Timothy there in his white robe, and became absorbed in many thoughts... He guarded the photo like a treasure.
It was Saturday night. Andreas had brought some apples from the attic of the house, which were stored there in the dark on old slatted frames.
They were from the last harvest in the garden. He always did this when he couldn't fall asleep, wanted to read late, listen to music, or had to think about something for a long time.
He had an old cassette recorder next to his bed, which he occasionally used to record his piano playing, especially when he was improvising... making something up. Andreas had already taken his first piano lessons at the age of 5, classical lessons, but he also played in a school band on grand piano and keyboards.
He often just played in a mood. For him, it was like writing letters when he was melancholic, really angry, or in a really good mood.
Now he was lying half-upright in bed, his pillow pushed back behind his neck, listening to his own recordings on the cassette recorder. He was chewing on an apple.
Suddenly, he heard a passage of his piano playing that he immediately rewound and had to listen to again. He did this a few times and then pressed stop! He jumped up and dug the photo of the choir out of his desk, took it to bed, and listened to this piano passage over and over again.
'Yep!' This music matched his feelings when he saw Timothy in the photo. Something hurt terribly, but he didn't understand it.
It was a boy, after all, but for Andreas, it was an angel with a singing voice that had completely moved and touched him. Andreas knew himself how intimate soprano singing was for a boy, and Timothy looked so noble and simply beautiful. And the scenes and gestures during his departure... His head and stomach were reeling.
Andreas was suddenly totally agitated, almost angry, because these feelings wouldn't leave him alone.
He kept thinking about the boy. He was annoyed that he'd gotten himself so worked up about it. 'Everything's lost anyway! Timothy's in England, 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 left England.
Andreas went to choir practice, like every week.
There, the choirmaster introduced the group: "Dear people! You surely remember the wonderful days we spent with the choir from our twin city in England." Andreas opened his large, chocolate-brown eyes. "In two months, we'll be traveling over by boat, then a bus will take us there, and we'll stay with host families." He then explained the program to be performed and everything that needed to be organized. Andreas's heart almost stopped, and then it was pounding in his throat!
With the note about the plan for his parents in his hand, he pedaled home as fast as he could to discuss everything there.
The day of departure approached. Andreas had been thinking repeatedly about what he would do or say if he saw Timothy again... if he were to face him...
'Will Timothy even be there? Will he have choir guests from Germany at home? Will he even remember?' and, and, and...
Andreas decided to bring Timothy something. Something personal! Regardless of whether he even noticed him, regardless of what happened!
It was evening, no one was in the house. The siblings were with friends, and the parents were invited somewhere. Only Andreas sat at the piano, had switched the cassette recorder to record, and was playing. He played and played, recording everything that came to mind, everything he felt, onto the tape. Completely undisturbed. When the cassette was full, he labeled it, 'Timothy' on one side and 'Andreas' on the other, and wrapped it in midnight-blue paper with stars and moons on it. Then he placed the small package between his clothes in his almost-packed travel bag. He kept taking it out and wondering if it would look good... too much, or could it come across as a declaration of love? 'Shock!'
At times, it ended up in his backpack because Mom always repacked the entire suitcase at the end. 'She'll notice something later!'
'Shit!' went through his head, 'he's laughing his head off! What kind of boy is so uncool with such sensitive shit?' Yes, Andreas was about to freak out. He hit himself in the head and asked himself how stupid he really was. Then he stood in front of the mirror in the hallway. 'Do I look like a girl? Am I crazy? What makes me tick...' he pondered.
Andreas scolded himself... "Nonsense, man, I'm a good boy... I don't look like shit and I can look mean when I want to."
"Damn... why do I have such soft features on my face? You can totally see that I'm a wimp. No, I'm not!" He slammed the case shut, sat down at the piano, and started hammering away...
Kisses... "See you again, my darling, and have fun! Did you bring your score? Here... you have a few extra pounds. Be careful on the ship and don't run around on deck at night... blah... blah..." That was the mother's vaccination right in front of the bus, and in such a way that everyone could hear it... Andreas thought to himself as he finally freed himself from the clutches and boarded the bus with his backpack.
YO! It was finally starting. To England... to the ship! Pokpockpock! Andreas had just snagged a window seat when he turned to the window in shock. 'Mommy wants something else...'
Andreas didn't understand anything. The bus closed its doors and FINALLY started moving.
The bus journey and ship passage to Harwich, as well as the subsequent bus ride to his English twin town, left Andreas little time for deep thoughts. There was singing, dancing in the ship's disco, and jokes told in the cabin at night. The bus driver on the English side was the ultimate joker and kept everyone in a good mood. He roared through England in his bus at full throttle, which caused the choir director to worry.
face put on.
FINALLY. Meeting on the market square in the English twin city, with allocation among the host families (that's what the program said).
With honking, the bus turned into the square and stopped in front of a crowd... the welcoming committee, consisting of the host families and members of the choirs from the city. Andreas was excited. His heart was racing, and he scanned the waiting crowd with a strained gaze for... Timothy. No sign! He didn't seem to have come. In fact, none of the boys from the boys' choir seemed to have shown up.
When Andreas's name was called for "Mr. and Mrs. Smith," Andreas stepped forward, and a fat, round woman in a horrible floral suit writhed toward him. But she beamed from ear to ear and said loudly, "Andrew. Very, very welcome..." Then Mrs. Smith and Andreas headed toward an old light blue Vauxhall.
'What an ugly car,' thought Andreas. 'But the old woman is nice.' Andreas, well-behaved and well-mannered, gave in to the task. His duffel bag and backpack were loaded, and he looked the part: a dark blue Timberland jacket, brand-new, perfectly fitting dark blue Diesel jeans, light brown camel shoes, and a blue-and-white checked Tom Tailor shirt. His quiff was perfectly blow-dried all over... he'd even put on his CK B cologne.
Mrs. Smith was completely captivated by this boy and shoved him into the passenger seat. With a jerk, they took off, and Mrs. Smith talked without stopping to breathe. Andreas had to catch his breath, too, because she drove on the left and sat on the right, and the way the old woman drove, he still had trouble judging the traffic. Besides, he only understood half of it, after all, he'd never been to England before.
The exciting journey ended in front of a small detached house. The Vauxhall was still idling for a bit as Mrs. Smith started fiddling with the trunk. Next to it was an old Rover 3000. 'Probably Mr. Smith's car.'
A gaunt man then opened the door of the house and warmly greeted Andreas. They went into the living room. Andreas was stuffed with homemade baked goods, and photos were shown on both sides—of children, siblings, and parents—and Andreas was quickly rechristened Andrew.
Andreas reported on the English choir's visit to his hometown, how great he thought the concert was, and especially the soloists. "I think one of them was called Timothy."
„Yes! Timothy D...!” schmetterte Mrs. Smith. „He lives with his mom, 10 minutes from here. Would you like to visit Timothy?” Andreas blieb fast die Uhr stehen: „Emmmm... no… yes…emmm... we don't know each other... perhaps... later... or…” Zu spät!
Mrs. Smith already had the telephone receiver in her hand: "Maggy?..." She seemed to be talking to her mother... Andreas turned bright red and would have liked to open a trapdoor beneath him.
Crunch! Mrs. Smith had slammed the receiver down, delighted from ear to ear, and informed Andreas that the boys had just had choir practice at church. "Mother will send him over later!"
Andreas felt he must be so red he could have been sold as a light buoy. He felt stress building up inside him, and he kept rubbing his quiff in embarrassment, feeling his palms sweat...
Mrs. Smith had cleared the guest room for Andreas. She was now bustling around the kitchen, and Andreas had gone there 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 frantically unpacked his duffel bag 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 corridor in shorts and with his toiletry bag, 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 the doorbell rang. "THE FRONT DOOR!" flashed through his mind. He paused, electrified, and listened.
He heard voices outside in the hallway, doors slamming. Quiet!
He quickly brushed his teeth, wrapped himself in a large white bath towel that had been laid out for him, and rushed across the hallway to the door of his guest room. As he did so, he heard Mrs. Smith call from a distance: "Timothy is waiting in your room!"
Too late! The door to the room slammed open and shook as it hit the doorstop.
Andreas opened his eyes in shock and stopped by the door. Equally shocked, and with an expression of having been 'caught,' the blond boy turned around. He had apparently just been inspecting some things from Andreas' backpack that were lying on the bed.
The shock lasted for a moment. Andreas tried to find English words.
The blond man stood there rooted to the spot. He looked his counterpart up and down with his plush blue eyes. Once there, he stared at Andreas's feet and suddenly a broad smile spread across his face, revealing a dimple on one side next to his sweetly curved lips. 'What's going on?' Andreas thought, looking down. A white blob of toothpaste shone on his right big toe. He looked into Timothy's face, and at that moment, both of them burst into a small, liberating laugh.
Andreas reached for the clothes he had taken off earlier and indicated with brief body language that he was 'just going to put something on,' left the room and went back into the bathroom.
When Andreas, smartly dressed, entered the room again, Timothy was sitting on the edge of the bed.
A slight blush crept across Andreas's face. He had trouble looking directly at Timothy for long, as he looked so graceful and beautiful.
He wore a smart black shirt, buttoned all the way up, over beige and white trousers. What was somewhat conspicuous, however, were his very thick-soled, well-polished loafers.
“My name is Andreas... emm... Andrew,” Andreas said.
„I know! My name is Timothy.” „Ok… Did Mrs. Smith tell you?” fragte Andreas.
„Yes, but I know your name since the day we left your city in Germany with the bus!”
Surprised, Andreas looked into Timothy's eyes, which now expressed a certain mischief. Timothy explained that he wasn't the only one on the bus who had witnessed Andreas's sprint next to the departing bus. The girl who had been a guest at Andreas's home and had also been on the bus had witnessed the scene and told Timothy who the athletic boy was and how much she had enjoyed her stay with Andreas' family.
Timothy knew how many siblings Andreas had, what school he went to, that he was a hockey player, played the piano, and sang in the youth choir.
Andreas was stunned! Finally, he sat down on the edge of the bed next to Timothy, some distance away, and tried to say something to Timothy in awkward 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 blushed and embarrassed again. He still remembered how fixated he had been on Timothy in the church.
He respected Timothy. There was something very clear and self-confident about him, even though he seemed half a head shorter than Andreas and was certainly a year or two younger. His speaking voice suggested that his voice hadn't yet broken, or was only beginning to break, but it was still very pronounced. Andreas was familiar with this; he also had a trained voice and, at 15 1/2, could still sing alto.
"It's great to meet you, Andrew," Timothy suddenly said, a little more quietly. He looked down at his legs, which he was swinging back and forth. Andreas looked at him sideways.
A moment later, Timothy turned his head to Andreas, looked briefly into his eyes, and then looked back at his dangling legs.
"I'm happy we did meet now," said Andreas. The 'happy' came out in his voice, but the rest came out in a whisper. Timothy looked back up at Andreas and gave him a slight smile, a hint of dimples, and pursed lips.
A gong rang out with powerful clangs from the direction of the kitchen. It could only be Mrs. Smith. "Äääändruuuuuu.... Timmethäääyyyyyy..." rang out through the hallway. 'DINE! Yoooo!' Andreas and Timothy looked at each other determinedly, nodded in unison, stood up, and set off.
Mrs. Smith was quite excited and made it clear that they should dig in now; there shouldn't be anything left over! Mr. Smith smiled and nodded in agreement, looking pleased at the two boys he and his wife now had at the table.
Timothy sat across from Andreas. Just as the blond man had a much too large piece in his mouth and was cramming it into his cheek, Andreas looked him straight in the face. Timothy stopped chewing, and Andreas noticed that a fit of laughter was brewing inside him.
Andreas pointed with his eyes to a large, kitschy bowl on the table that had a duck head with a long beak on each side as a handle.
Timothy paused, his eyes wide open. His diaphragm cackled, and he did everything humanly possible to keep his mouth closed. Andreas heard his quiet, desperately suppressed inner cackle and, now on the verge of bursting into laughter himself, fixed his gaze on Timothy's increasingly gloriously slitty blue eyes, which were becoming slightly watery. Mrs. Smith, who somehow picked up on the reference to her bowl, looked at the boys.
She announced that this magnificent and particularly valuable bowl came from a special shop in London, and that she had purchased the entire range from this series...
That was too much! Timothy jumped up and ran into the bathroom. Andreas tried to pull himself together and explain to the somewhat startled Mrs. Smith that Timothy had just choked... and that it really was a particularly beautiful bowl! Mr. Smith, looking at Andreas with understanding, put his napkin to his mouth and grinned into her.
Timothy came back, his eyes moist and taking a deep breath.
He said something like: "Ohh... I'm very sorry... blah blah...", and after sitting down again, he kicked Andreas right in the shin under the table, looking at him cheekily with flashing eyes and a fully activated dimple.
This day of arrival in the small English town was for Andreas and the host family
at leisure. The next day there was to be a reception at the town hall, and in the evening the first concert in the town hall.
After dinner, Mrs. Smith suggested that Timothy could show Andreas the area before it got completely dark, and they agreed on a return time of 9 o'clock that evening.
The two didn't need to be told twice and after a few minutes they left the house together.
They now giggled again about the funny situations at dinner
and Timothy explained that he wanted to show Andreas his school from the outside,
Then he'll be home. His mom, by the way, is super nice and the greatest person in the whole world. Andreas will get to know her, too.
Andreas could not always fully understand everything that Timothy said,
But somehow it was much more important to him not to interrupt him. He would much rather pay attention while listening and 'have to' look at the blond boy. This way, he could now explore him, his facial expressions, his entire appearance. Every little detail had an impact on Andreas. Everything he perceived about the little Englishman, he found incredibly beautiful, noble, super-smart, with a feeling of the sweetest enchantment in his stomach, but also a large portion of melancholy, which had something to do with a kind of feeling of inviolability.
Andreas also realized: 'That's right, Timothy is about half a head shorter than me.'
“'Like your hairstyle,'” suddenly appeared in Timothy's babble.
Andreas was somewhat interrupted from his thoughts, but he wasn't sure if he'd understood correctly. Andreas struggled for something to say.
"I like you very much, too!" he replied. "Excuse me?" came from the other side.
Timothy looked at him as if he really didn't understand a thing.
'Shit,' thought Andreas, 'good thing he didn't understand that.'
He collected in English: “I have to see the barber soon.”
"No, no, no!" came the reply. Andreas gave a charming, doe-eyed glance at Timothy, whose blue eyes winked back smartly.
The school was now visible in the distance. Timothy briefly indicated it with a finger, without a word. He then explained everything to Andreas, leading him around each building. They then strolled further down the street. The houses became simpler and finally
They were located between apartment buildings made of old red brick.
The people seen here and there appeared to be workers. Suddenly, Timothy jingled a set of keys and opened the front door of one of these houses. They trudged up an old staircase in a somewhat dilapidated stairwell to the third floor.
The blond boy turned to Andreas with a quick smile, pressed the doorbell, and then unlocked the apartment door. "Mom!" he called, throwing his keys onto a dresser. Andreas closed the apartment door behind him and stood there, looking around briefly, waiting.
It was a simple interior, but very tidy and immaculate. A door opened, and Timothy's mother approached them with a warm expression on her face. 'A beautiful woman!' thought Andreas. Very athletic and aesthetic, with long blonde hair tied back in a long ponytail.
Timothy politely introduced Andreas, and his mother shook his hand. She asked if they wanted to come into the living room, but Timothy said he wanted to show the visitor his room first.
Andreas entered Timothy's kingdom. Everything was tidy, and there weren't many
Furniture inside. The white robe hung on a closet under a transparent sheet.
"Have a seat, please," said Timothy, pointing to the edge of the bed. Andreas dutifully sat down.
The 'little one' dug a photo album out of the cupboard and sat down very close to Andreas, keeping his body in contact. He turned on his bedside lamp and turned it so it illuminated the album. Then he began to talk... how his father was no longer alive... that they had lived better lives back then... but that his mother was doing a great job of everything, and he opened the album as he did so.
Andreas had to concentrate hard to understand the essentials. A warmth spread through him during Timothy's presentation, and he enjoyed this closeness.
He now noticed the hands that showed and explained this and that in the photo album.
Of course, these hands also had to reflect the charisma of this boy next to him
They had to be the softest puppy paws in the world,
Andreas. He noticed that they hadn't even shaken hands yet.
While Timothy was talking and explaining intensely, Andreas noticed how it was in his
His neck began to tingle. He got goosebumps.
Timothy spoke quietly, sometimes almost whispering. He ran his hand over vacation photos, some of which included his father. Andreas turned more and more often to Timothy, who was completely focused on the album. He sensed his emotions, which must have something to do with the photos.
Andreas felt like he had to put his arm around Timothy and fought a
A struggle to do this or not to do it. Suddenly the thought struck him
the precious time they could only have together.
He did it! Very gently, he placed his left arm over Timothy's shoulder, who paused for a very brief moment, but then continued just as before.
Andreas wanted to slowly pull his arm back, but when Timothy
right hand diagonally backwards and stopped the process, the arm back there
moved to where he was before. Without interruption, he continued with his English presentation
continue to the photos.
Having reached the last page of the album, Timothy left it open
as it was, looked down and fell silent. Andreas examined him with his large
dark brown, shining doe eyes from the side. He could see that in the
a tear had collected in the far corner of his neighbor's eye.
Andreas briefly pulled Timothy towards him. Timothy slowly looked up and then smiled
Andreas looked at him lightly, sniffed briefly and quickly wiped both eyes with the back of his left hand.
Andreas himself was at his emotional limit. He hadn't understood everything, but
Timothy looked ahead again, closed the album, and with a
discreet, sweet smile and a short shrug of the shoulders made it clear that he was fine and everything
continue. Andreas could tell that from his facial expression.
Timothy wanted to stand up and put the album back in its place, but Andreas held him back with his arm around his shoulders; he was shocked by his own gesture because he hadn't really controlled it.
Timothy looked at the closed album, then forward, then turned to Andreas. Andreas felt a kind of apprehension in his stomach, almost as if he had to go to the bathroom. Timothy's eyes wandered very slowly from one doe-eye to the other; he also seemed to scan Andreas's eyebrows and his face in general. Andreas noticed a certain seriousness in Timothy's face and, in doing so, discovered a small dot on one side just above his counterpart's upper lip. Having just noticed this, his sparkling blue eyes formed into a warm, benevolent smile. The corners of his eyes, along with his fine eyebrows, betrayed it.
Timothy jumped up: "'Wanna show you something," reached for a small desk
and took a small tin box out of one of the two doors.
He sat down on the floor, beckoned Andreas over and placed the box in the middle.
He removed the lid. Inside lay at least 20 small and large artfully
sprayed and painted stones... in a kind of graffiti style. 'So this is a hobby of
Timothy.' Andreas thought they were beautiful and each stone was very special.
The little Englishman noticed how fascinated his counterpart was by his hobby. While they took out each stone and examined it intensively, Timothy
He started humming quietly, then a little louder, and finally he sang: "Oh happy day... oh happy dayiiieay..."
Andreas laughed and joined in a second voice below. He also knew
this gospel song perfectly. Timothy beamed, stood up, and both of them really got going.
They looked at each other to be in perfect sync. Timothy really vibrated and started
to improvise over the lead voice, phrasing up to his highest soprano head voice.
Andreas had to concentrate hard to keep the tempo of the basic chant exactly. "Yeah!" Timothy shouted, approaching Andreas, jumping up at him with excitement, and crossing his legs behind his hips. "Mom!" he called, reaching out with his long arm.
for the door handle. “Moooom!” “Yes Timmy, I heard it! It was great!” came from the
Living room called.
Timothy landed on his feet again, stood in front of Andreas, smiled brightly at him and asked energetically: "FRIENDS?" Andreas raised his arms to exchange blows:
“Friends!” he replied happily and liberated.
The ritual clapped loudly, 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 the entire time he was in the city.
His mother laughed back sympathetically and explained that this wouldn't work; after all, Andreas was staying with the Smiths, and that couldn't be changed. But perhaps they could arrange it that way for once; she would discuss it with Mrs. Smith. But Andreas had to go back today.
As she said this, she looked at her watch, tapped the dial a few times, and alerted the boys that it was almost time.
"I'll bring you back!" Timothy declared resolutely and began sorting the stones back into the tin box. Andreas watched him, relaxed and happy, munching on a cookie at the same time.
Ten to nine! Timothy had brought his new friend right on time to the house of the host family where Andreas was staying.
"Ten minutes," he noted on his watch, leaning his buttocks against Mrs. Smith's old Vauxhall. "Yes... ten minutes," Timothy acknowledged, doing the same.
It was dark and a nearly full moon tried to cast a small glow through passing veils of clouds, some thicker and some thinner.
The two hadn't talked much on the way. They had quietly hummed 'Oh Happy Day' once more to cover up the lack of conversation.
Andreas was filled with joy from this evening and he somehow felt the same from Timothy, who had smiled and blinked at him every now and then as he walked away.
"At night I always get the best emotions to compose and to play the piano," he said dreamily. "'Would like to hear it, Andrew,'" came Timothy in a questioning, low voice.
“Can I tell you something?” Andreas now trembled cautiously.
"Indeed. What's up?" asked the blond boy, his blue eyes shining expectantly at Andreas. Pause... Andreas searched for words and smiled, smart and embarrassed.
"Come on... what is it?" came the reply. "'Couldn't forget you since I saw you the first time in church. I wished to meet you so badly... the whole time..." Andreas breathed out almost voicelessly, looking everywhere but into the eyes of the boy next to him. He wasn't saying anything at all right now.
Andreas finally risked a quick glance and saw that Timothy was still looking the same, but there was a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth, towards his dimple.
Andreas's doe-eyed eyes began to flutter. Timothy could clearly see Andreas's eyelashes fluttering erratically. He tried to take in Andreas's entire face, which Andreas turned away slightly when he noticed this. Timothy took his left hand out of his trouser pocket and placed it on Andreas's, using it to brace himself against the cold tailgate of the Vauxhall. Andreas felt the smaller, silky paw, its soft fingers gently trying to dig under his. The small hand squeezed slightly, and the voice that accompanied it said very quietly but firmly: "I'm impressed." Pause...
„No one ever said things, like you did, to me before.“ „Echt?“, brachte Andreas heraus.
"Excuse me?" Timothy immediately replied. "Emmm...wow..." Andreas shook his head with an embarrassed grin on his face, signaling that he was clueless and at the end of his creative process.
Then something seemed to occur 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'll be back in a few minutes!" Andreas hurried past her into his guest room. He dug the small package containing the cassette tape out of his luggage and stormed back out, past a somewhat surprised Mrs. Smith, who posed a noticeable obstacle.
Timothy greeted Andreas right at the front door. Andreas pushed Timothy back behind the car and held out the small package. "For me? What's that?... Why?" the smaller man whispered tensely, taking the package from the hectic man, crouching slightly and staring at Andreas with a mischievous smile and dimpled eyes.
Before Andreas could even say that he shouldn't open it yet, the boy had already removed the paper. He stared at the cassette. "Andrew," he read..., turned the cassette over, "Timothy?" he read questioningly from the other side of the gift. Andreas stood before him, excited, almost doubtful.
“Äääändruuuuu!”, it rang out from the front door. “Come in please!”, it came emphatically.
Timothy turned on his blue eyes, shining them on the man who was currently experiencing an emotional collision. Out of the blue, the blond boy's right paw shot up, quickly grasped Andreas's neck, pulled him toward him, and kissed him on the cheek. Just as quickly, he let go and ran out into the darkness.
Andreas stood there rooted to the spot, rewinding the film of the last few seconds in his mind a few more times. Yep! He was infatuated! And to the point of pain! Was this just a conquest, or had he completely thrown the little guy for a loop, even caused some damage?
He finally trudged into the house. Mrs. Smith greeted him and asked what he wanted: food, drink, and more time to sit together. Andreas indicated that it had been a wonderful evening, but that he was now very tired. They briefly discussed the schedule for the next day, then he undressed, crawled into the guest bed, immediately turned off the light, and let Timothy's thoughts revolve around all of the impressions of the day and everything he found so fascinating about him. The bed's enormous blankets and soft mattress were comfortable, but unfamiliar.
He'd barely calmed down a bit and allowed himself to settle in when someone knocked on the window from outside. He jumped up! 'NO...!' he thought immediately, crept to the window, opened it, and two cheeky blue 'spotlights' flashed at him! "You're crazy!" whispered Andreas. "Come out," giggled Timothy. Andreas uncertainly stroked his messy quiff. "Okay, but only 5 minutes," he acknowledged.
Timothy jumped excitedly around in front of the window, checking his surroundings. Andreas quickly slipped into makeshift clothes and crawled out the window. "Your mother, Timothy?" "I told her that I forgot my keys in your room... hehe!"
“Okay,” Andreas whispered 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 asked back. "I didn't say 'Thank You' for the present!" "Of course you did!" Andreas whispered.
"How?" Timothy wondered. A short pause... "Ermm... you kissed me."
"Yes, I did," Timothy grinned back, embarrassed. "I was highly surprised," hissed
He passed Andreas' ear, giving him goosebumps all over his body.
The blond, blue-headlighted boy now positioned his sparkling sapphires directly in front of Andreas's eyes, so that their noses were almost touching. "I hope we're friends for a long time from now on, Andrew," came in a very soft and gentle voice, while Timothy leaned his warm hands on Andreas's knees.
Andreas had to swallow, and warm feelings spread through him. His goosebumps were off the scale, and his attraction to this gorgeous, graceful, sensitive boy forced him to fulfill his desire. Timothy noticed something in Andreas's face.
The little boy was just beginning to doubt his words with "Pardon?" because he didn't understand Andreas's expression. His expression was now flooded with all his emotions. His doe-eyes closed, and his lips slowly approached his counterpart's right cheek. There they placed what was probably the most tender kiss Andreas had ever wanted to give anyone. He waited a moment before looking Timothy in the eyes, suddenly aware of what he had just done.
Very carefully he pulled his head back and opened his eyes.
The blue headlights were on, complete with dimples.
Timothy slumped back onto his heels and let out a breath. Andreas raised his smartly arched eyebrows slightly in question.
After a short pause: “Be assured: You will get such a kiss as well, my friend!”, the little one smiled, his grinning mischievous face and slanted eyes on.
Andreas grinned back, relaxed.
"Piano?" Timothy asked happily, pulling the cassette out of his pocket. "Piano!" Andreas replied in confirmation.
They paused for a moment. Timothy put the cassette back in.
"Tomorrow?" Timothy asked quietly, in a somewhat embarrassed tone. "Tomorrow!" Andreas replied cheerfully in a whisper.
Andreas then stood up and climbed back through the window into the house. Timothy came to the windowsill from outside and stretched his arms up. Andreas bent down and hugged his new friend. He briefly nuzzled his face into his collar and breathed deeply through his nose. Timothy giggled softly. They separated, and the 'little one' stepped back from the windowsill. He gave Andreas a happy look, set off, and breathed a 'bye' as he walked away.
Andreas closed the window, undressed again, and snuggled contentedly under the enormous blanket. Now he realized how tired he really was. Nevertheless, he began to think about the possibility of even meeting his new friend the next day. A fairly extensive schedule lay ahead: a welcome at the town hall, a rehearsal, a dress rehearsal, and a concert in the evening. 'Well... maybe he could find a bike somewhere...'
As Andreas thought about this, the active activity in his head switched off and sleep took over.
"Good morning!" Andreas breathed into his ear from no more than a foot away. His eyes widened and he saw Mrs. Smith, with a delighted expression on her face, clattering a tray onto his bedside table. He realized he wasn't covered at all; he must have kicked himself free in his sleep. He quickly got 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 asked if he had slept well and handed him from the tray
an oversized mug. Andreas sipped with a fake grateful, good-natured face
and stated: 'Tea with milk and at least 6 spoons of sugar!'
'Not sweet at all,' he thought, 'but lovely!' He glanced at the tray, whereupon Mrs. Wirbel-Smith announced that it was toast with special, original English jam and that he should come straight to breakfast...
'Breakfast? What did I just get here???' he wondered, irritated.
Andreas felt the draft that Mrs. Smith caused by her speed,
as she happily left the room again.
'Wow,' he thought, and briefly fell back onto the pillow.
Then he nibbled on the toast, which was surely made with love, with his long teeth.
Yeah... he had to eat them somehow.
When Andreas left his guest room freshly showered and dressed, he
a scent that suggested something fried.
'Ugh! Fried bacon and eggs...' But there was no escape!
Mr. Smith assigned him a seat at the table, where another huge cup, containing the same contents as the one by his bed, was waiting for him. Mrs. Smith joined him and savored every bite Andreas then brought down.
Mr. and Mrs. Smith took the boy to the town hall, where the mayor officially welcomed the choir from the German twin town.
The guest choir sang a serenade in return. After the applause, Andreas immediately broke away from the line-up and turned to the choirmaster, asking if he could take time off from the upcoming tour and the subsequent 'get-together' with all the host families until the rehearsal. That was out of the question today, he said, but gave Andreas a friendly wink to indicate the emphasis was on 'TODAY'. Somewhat agitated, Andreas acknowledged this with a smile: "OK!"
The boy let the day pass. He was feeling dissatisfied, but tried to appear smart and polite. He kept looking around, keeping an eye out...
Andreas was excited! He was standing on a platform in the second row in the alto section of the choir, relatively centrally. The Stadthalle hall was filled to capacity. They had just positioned themselves in front of the now waiting English audience. The coughing and chatter gradually subsided as the conductor stepped in front of the choir. Andreas's eyes frantically scanned the audience, trying not to miss the choirmaster, who would be giving the cue at any moment. As the choirmaster raised both arms for the cue, Andreas's glance briefly wandered over the galleries. And... YES! He was there! Timothy was standing to his right in the gallery, which was not open to the audience. Andreas quickly smiled up at him, and a moment later the conductor, who gave Andreas a 'look out, please' look, gave the cue.
Andreas felt Timothy's gaze; he didn't really need to risk it,
He occasionally glanced up at the gallery, but he did, and almost every time he received a satisfied grin in return. Timothy had placed his arms flat on the balcony railing and rested his chin on his clasped hands. Sometimes he even tilted his head on his arms. You couldn't sit up there, and it certainly wasn't the most comfortable way to sit through a two-hour concert.