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At three in the morning, Charlie was awakened by a tapping sound coming from her window. Since the entire house was only one story, she could see Adam's face peering through a large opening in the thick shrub that ran the entire distance of the house. Charlie went over to the window and opened it.

"Charlie-girl, I need to talk to you," pleaded Adam.

"Please don't call me that, anymore. Besides, tomorrow is a school day," replied Charlie, indifferently.

"Charlie, I know you're hurt-- that's why we have to talk," said Adam. Charlie shook her head. "All right, if you won't come out here, I'll climb in there," said Adam.

"You wouldn't dare!" cried Charlie.

Just then, Vera appeared in Charlie's bedroom doorway, dressed in a hair net, slippers, and a terry robe.

"Adam, or whatever your name is, what on earth are you doing outside my granddaughter's window at this time of the morning?" asked Vera.

"I came to talk to Charlie," responded Adam.

Vera observed Charlie's indifferent look, and defiantly folded arms.

"I think she needs to talk to you, too," agreed Vera. "Take her, but have her home in time for breakfast. I trust your integrity, but our neighbors will gossip about this till the day I die, if you don't have her back before daylight."

"Grandma!" protested Charlie. "I don't want to talk to him!"

"You'll thank me for this later," was Vera's stout reply.

Suddenly, Charlie found herself being pushed through the window by Vera and into Adam's ready arms. When Charlie's feet found the ground, she turned to climb back through, but found Vera had already shut the window.

"I'm sorry to have to do this to you," apologized Adam, "but this is very important. I've already made peace with Shirley. Now, I must explain to you why I did what I did. Otherwise, I'm afraid your friendship won't last the night!"

Adam took Charlie to the garden where they had talked so many times before-- mostly about God. This time, for the first time Charlie could remember, Adam was actually going to talk about himself. This intensely private man began:

"When I was a boy, I had no more interest in music than most other kids my age. Even so, Mom forced me to take piano lessons everyday after school for most of my childhood.

"This imposed knowledge of music never turned into love, and by the time I began college, I had long forsaken the piano. Then one day, I met Ronald Paulson, a teacher at the college I was attending. I listened to one of his classes and was so impressed by his enthusiasm for music, that I signed up for his course. The knowledge of music that I had accrued those long years of practicing, now returned to me with a passion that I had never known before!

"My second year in college, I began to compose for the first time. Ron said I took to it like a duck takes to water. I felt so alive and free! I found that I could better express myself through my music, more than I ever could through words. It was then, that Ron Paulson's son, Bill, approached me about a career in music. I immediately rejected the idea, but I couldn't make it completely go away.

"After completing my third year in college, I was determined to set aside my plans to enter the family plumbing business, and follow my dreams with music. When I told Dad about my new plans, I think he nearly had a heart attack. How could I think of giving up a steady profession to become a piano player? Dad was dead set against it, no matter how much I tried to reason with him. Mom's reaction wasn't as bad, but she sincerely thought I was making a dreadful mistake, even though she had been the one to force me into all those unwanted piano lessons when I was a boy-- a fact which she now seemed to regret. My sister shared the same horror as Dad, and could hardly believe I was going to mess up my life to do what? pound a keyboard?

"To make matters worse, the insomnia I had had since childhood, was now interrupting my sleeping hours. Of course, my family thought this was due to the negative influence music was having on me.

"I don't mean to say that they had any moral objections to my music, but even Dad pointed out that the kind of music I write has only a limited spiritual value. I had to admit that it was true. My music made me feel closer to God, but to others, it was just another nice sound-- nothing more. This was the best understanding that I had at the time, so I followed it. I told my family that I would set aside music and become a plumber. I have no regrets about the decision, for I made it honestly.

"I returned to my other studies, and only composed as a hobby to help me sleep at night. Eventually, I graduated and moved to Twin Yucca to join the family business.

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