Charles The Drummer Boy

Fifty Thousand Dollars And A Dying Mother

The stage was still covered in golden confetti. The audience of 5000 people was still standing, shouting "BUCKET BOY! BUCKET BOY!" Cameras were flashing everywhere. TV host was trying to interview Charles, but Charles couldn't hear anything.

In his hands, he held a giant check, made of cardboard, written: $50,000. FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS. And a golden contract that said: STAR MUSIC RECORDS - RECORDING CONTRACT.

A year ago, he had 3 dollars. Now he had 50,000 dollars.

But his mind was not on check. His mind was on small house in small town, 10 hours away by bus, where his mother lay on thin mattress, coughing blood, waiting.

"I need to go home now!" Charles shouted to host, "My mother is sick! I need to go now!"

Host was confused, "But winner's press conference... photos... celebration party..."

"No! My mother is dying! Please, I need to go!"

DJ Thunder, American judge, heard him and took off his expensive jacket and wrapped it around Charles' thin shoulders. "Boy, where is your mother?"

"In small town, 10 hours bus. She needs hospital now."

Queen Beats from Nigeria said, "We have car. Our driver can take you to bus station. Night bus leaves in 1 hour."

Grace ran onto stage, crying, hugging Charles, "You won! You won for your mama!"

Mr. Thomas, his free coach, also came, tears in old eyes, "Go, my boy. Go save your mother. That is bigger prize than 50,000 dollars."

Grace's father pushed through crowd, "My restaurant van is outside! I can drive him to his town! 10 hours, I will drive all night! No bus needed!"

Charles looked at fat man who gave him store room, soup, slippers, chance.

"Sir... you will drive 10 hours for me?"

"My son died last year wanting to be drummer like you. Tonight, you made him alive again. I will drive you to your mother. Let's go now!"

So Charles, still in patched shirt and slippers, still holding bucket bag and giant $50,000 check and golden contract, ran out of Star Music Hall, with Grace's father, Grace, and Mr. Thomas, to a small old restaurant van.

Behind them, Jake stood alone backstage, his $5000 drums, his 9,9,9 score, his rich father in car outside, but nobody clapping for him. He watched Charles, the bucket boy, being carried like hero, and for first time in his life, Jake understood that money cannot buy what Charles has.

The van drove fast through capital city lights. Charles sat in front, holding his buckets, his check, looking out window, whispering, "Hold on, Mama. Hold on. I'm coming. Your drummer boy is coming with medicine money."

The journey home, 10 hours, through dark forests, dusty roads, same roads he took 7 days ago as poor boy with 40 dollars, now returning as national champion with 50,000 dollars.

But will he be on time?The van drove all night. Grace's father drove without stopping, only stopping for fuel. Grace sat at back, sleeping, waking, giving Charles water. Mr. Thomas also came, sitting quietly, praying.

Charles couldn't sleep. Every hour, he asked, "How many hours left, sir?"

"5 hours left, Charles."

"3 hours left."

"1 hour left."

As sun rose, they entered small town. Small town that mocked him. Now, small town heard on radio that bucket boy won national championship. People came out of houses, lining road, clapping as van passed.

"Charles won! Bucket boy won!"

"50,000 dollars!"

But Charles didn't wave. He looked ahead to his small one-room house.

Van stopped. Charles jumped out, giant check still in hand, bucket bag on shoulder, and ran to house.

Inside, many neighbors were gathered. Mr. Samuel was there, holding Elena's hand. Doctor Morris was there, with sad face.

Elena lay on mattress, eyes closed, breathing very slow, very weak. Her face was whiter than ever, like paper.

"Mama!" Charles shouted, falling to knees beside her, holding her cold hand. "Mama, I'm back! I won! I won 50,000 dollars! I can pay for hospital! For medicine! For surgery! Mama, open eyes!"

Elena's eyes opened slowly. She was so weak, she could barely see.

"Charles... my drummer boy... you came..." she whispered, voice almost gone.

"I came, Mama. I won. Look, 50,000 dollars check. We can go to capital hospital now. You will be fine. You will hear me drum on real stage, with real lights."

Elena smiled, tiny smile, but beautiful. "I heard... on radio... you won... I heard you drumming on radio... my son... on radio..."

She coughed, blood came out, but she still smiled.

"Mr. Samuel... played radio... loud... I heard my boy... drumming... I knew you would win... true rhythm comes from heart..."

Doctor Morris said quietly, "She waited for you. She held on for 7 days because she wanted to hear you win. Now she is very tired."

Charles cried, holding his mother, giant check falling to floor.

"No, Mama, don't be tired! We need to go to hospital now! Van is outside! We can go now!"

But Elena's hand was getting colder. She touched Charles' cheek with last strength.

"Don't cry... my drummer boy... you saved me already... you made me proudest mother... in whole country..."

"Play... play for me... one more time... your buckets..."

Charles, tears blinding him, opened his bucket bag with shaking hands. He arranged his three buckets and paint tin, same buckets that won national championship, on the floor of small house where he played for 12 years.

And he played. Softly, not loud like on TV. Softly, like lullaby, like heartbeat, like mother's song.

Tat... tat... Boom... tat...

Everyone in small house cried. Neighbors outside heard and cried. Mr. Samuel cried.

Elena closed her eyes, listening to her son's drums, smile on face, peaceful, as if drums were taking her pain away, taking her to beautiful place.

And as Charles played his buckets, his mother, Elena, took her last breath, still smiling, still holding his hand, in her son's music.

She waited. She heard he won. And she left, proud, happy, healed not by medicine, but by her son's victory.

Charles stopped drumming. He knew. Silence in the house.

"Mama?" he whispered. "Mama?"

No answer. But smile still on her face.

Charles hugged her, giant $50,000 check on floor, golden contract on floor, buckets beside him, crying loudly, not like champion, but like 12-year-old boy who just lost his only family.

Grace's father came in and held Charles from behind.

Mr. Samuel said, "She heard you won, Charles. She died as proudest mother in the world. She died happy because her drummer boy became star."

Outside, whole small town stood silent, hearing boy cry, understanding that sometimes, even when you win 50,000 dollars, you can still lose what you love most.Two days later, small town had never seen such funeral. Everyone came. Market women, car wash owner who gave Charles job, town hall man who lent 70 dollars and taped his card, Mr. Johnson with loud radio, even Jake and his rich father came from capital city, heads down, ashamed, bringing flowers.

Jake walked to Charles, who sat near grave, holding buckets, not wearing champion shine clothes, just patched shirt, eyes red.

"Charles... I'm sorry... for tearing your card... for laughing... I was jealous... You are real drummer... I am just rich boy with expensive drums..." Jake cried, kneeling.

Charles looked at Jake. He had no anger now. Pain makes anger small.

"Jake, keep your drums. Play from heart next time," Charles said quietly.

After funeral, Charles sat alone in his small one-room house. On floor: $50,000 check, Star Records contract, bucket drums, practice pad from Grace's dead brother, 20 dollars his mother left under mattress.

What to do now? His mother was gone. Money cannot bring her back. What is 50,000 dollars without mother?

Grace came, with her father.

"Charles, what will you do now? Capital city contract?"

Charles looked at his buckets. He picked up sticks.

"I will drum, sister Grace. Mama said one day whole world will hear me. I will make her dream Come true. But first..."

He looked outside, where small boys in town played with sticks and tins, copying him, poor boys with no drums, like he was.

"First, I will use part of 50,000 dollars to build small music school in our town. Free for poor boys like me. So no boy will be laughed at for having bucket drums. And I will pay hospital bills for other sick mothers in town, so no boy loses mother because of no money like me."

Grace's father wiped tears, "You are 12 years old and you think like 60-year-old wise man."

Mr. Samuel came in, "And your Star Records contract? They want you in capital city next week to record."

Charles stood up, holding bucket bag.

"I will go. I will record. But I will always be bucket boy from small town. I will tell the world, true rhythm comes from the heart, not from expensive drums. And I will drum for my mother, in every song, forever."

One week later, Charles was on bus again to capital city, but different bus. Private car sent by Star Records. He wore new clothes but carried same bucket bag. Inside bag, not just buckets, but also his mother's old wrapper, her photo.

In capital city, Star Music Hall was now named "CHARLES THE DRUMMER BOY HALL" for one month to honor him.

He recorded his first album: "Buckets of Hope". First song was "Mama's Heartbeat", the beat he played for his mother on her last day.

Album sold 1 million copies in one month, internationally. Poor boy with bucket drums became international star.

But every night after concerts, after interviews, after lights, Charles would go to his hotel room, open bucket bag, and play soft beat for his mother, looking at her photo.

Tat... tat... Boom... like her heartbeat that still lives in his drums.One year later.

Small town now has Charles Music School, small building painted yellow, with sign: "Free Drum School for Poor Boys - Founded by Charles Drummer, In Memory of Mama Elena". Inside, 20 boys with bucket drums, learning from Mr. Samuel and Charles when he visits.

In town clinic, there is new medicine fridge, bought by Charles, with sign: "Elena Fund - No Mother Should Die Because of No Money".

In capital city, Charles is now 13, with his own small apartment, but still keeps store room rice bag as memory, still washes plates at Grace's restaurant sometimes to remember where he came from.

Jake became his friend, not enemy. Jake now learns heart drumming from Charles, not technique from expensive coach.

Grace is his sister, always.

On anniversary of his mother's death, Charles returned to small town, with his gold trophy, his $50,000 (now $30,000 left after building school and clinic fridge, but he has more from album sales), and his bucket drums.

He went to his mother's grave, with fresh flowers.

He sat down, arranged his buckets - same three buckets, same paint tin, same guava sticks, now famous buckets that millions know from TV.

And he played.

Not for competition. Not for money. Not for judges.

He played for his mother.

He played the journey: sick heartbeat, carrying bags, washing cars, rain under bridge, Grace's soup, Jake tearing card, perfect 10 scores, van driving all night, mother's last smile.

People from whole town gathered around grave, listening, crying, dancing softly.

When he finished, he whispered to grave:

"Mama, you said one day the whole world will hear me. Today, whole world hears me. But I still hear you, in every beat. True rhythm comes from heart. And my heart beats for you, forever, my first fan, my only mother."

Wind blew softly, as if answering.

Charles stood up, holding buckets, trophy, but most importantly, holding his mother's memory in heart.

He walked back to town, where 20 small boys with bucket drums waited to learn from bucket boy who became champion, who proved that a poor boy with broken buckets can beat elites, can win $50,000, can become international star, not because of expensive drums, but because he had expensive reason: love for his mother.

The end is not end. For Charles The Drummer Boy, this is just beginning of beat that will never stop.

THE END OF SEASON 1

SEASON 2 COMING: International Tour and The Rich Girl Who Hates Drums...AUTHOR'S NOTE TO READERS - COPY THIS IN AUTHOR'S NOTE BOX IN MEGANOVEL:

Thank you for reading Charles The Drummer Boy Season 1!

This is an inspirational story about talent, family love, and never giving up. Even when you have only broken buckets and world laughs at you, true rhythm from heart can beat expensive drums.

Charles lost his mother even after winning, because in real life, sometimes we win money but lose what we love. But he used his win to help other poor boys and sick mothers, so his mother's death was not in vain.

What will happen in Season 2?

- Charles goes on international tour to America, Japan, Nigeria with DJ Thunder, Master Li, Queen Beats!

- He meets a rich girl who hates drums because her drummer father left her!

- Jake becomes his friend or enemy again?

- Will Charles find new family love?

Please FOLLOW this book, VOTE with your coins, and COMMENT your favorite part! Your support helps me build more music schools for poor boys in real life!

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Remember: True rhythm comes from heart, not from expensive drums. Never give up your dream, even if you have only buckets!...