Date: Mon, 4 Apr 2005 23:15:08 +0200 From: hadjo Subject: Harry Disclaimer: I'm not sure where this story will lead me, but I suppose in all probability it will contain graphic depictions of a blossoming and deepening friendship between a man and a small boy involved in a mutual relationship. When you are in any way offended by such a friendship or are not of legal age in your country to read such a story I strongly advise you to leave now! "Harry" is an artistic work of fiction and is thus awarded Constitutional protection under the First Amendment of the United States of America stating: "Congress shall make no law . . . abridging the freedom of speech." Stanley v. Georgia, 394 U.S. 557, 566 (1969): The Court determined that, "The right to think is the beginning of freedom, and speech must be protected from the government because speech is the beginning of thought." As English is not my native language please take this into consideration when you are reading my first made-up story in what I hope is a reasonable substitute for the English/American language. Normally I am only writing in Dutch (Nederlands). All comments, help and directions are welcomed at harry@hadjo.nl . I cannot promise I will answer all emails but I certainly will read them! ------- "Harry" by Hadjo Copyright 2005 Chapter 1. It was a beautiful day. The bright sun was shining from a slightly clouded sky and a very subtle breeze comforted every living soul in the neighborhood. It was the first day of the rest of my life and it was also the first day of my new life in this small town in the Netherlands. I had done well in the computer market for a couple of years and invested my money wise. Now, at the age of wisdom (at least I hope so, being a bright and fairly intelligent sixty-fiver) I had bought this small 'house with a garden' for a reasonable price to spend here the rest of my life. I had been in the town before of course to have a good look at the house and at the surroundings, and everything gave me the feeling of really being welcomed here. The house had been sold by the family of a single male who passed away a few months ago. As far as they told me he had been living here all on his own for at least twenty years. The house was in a reasonable condition and I only had to make some minor adjustments to get the feeling this really could be MY house. Now I was sitting on the porch of my new residence and contemplated on my life. My possessions were already stowed away by the movers; the sitting room, the kitchen and one of the bedrooms were ready to be used for the night. At two o'clock I called it a day and decided to take the rest of the day off. I closed my eyes and dreamed away... A couple of years ago my wife and me decided to split our ways. Our two daughters were both married and lived their own life in another town. We had no grandchildren to spoil. The last year together we just both lived in the same house and even didn't share the bed any more. We had a long and deep talk and after that the decision was easily made: we divorced and both went our own way. My wife moved somewhere into another town near her own mother and I moved into a nice two bedroom condo. And now I've bought this nice house to enjoy here my retirement and the rest of my life. A few sounds caught my attention and I slowly came back from my reveries and opened my eyes. A couple of children were playing hide and tag, and now and then one of them looked at the house and its new inhabitant. When they saw I opened my eyes they huddled together and cautiously neared the entrance of the garden. "Are you going to live here mister?" one of the girls asked with a soft giggle. "Of course silly, why else would he be sitting here with his eyes closed?" a boy answered and poked her in the ribs. She slapped his hand away and they both fell to the ground in a mock-fight. "Where's Harry?" another boy asked with a frown, looking around. "Does he already know there's another fellow living in his house?" "Who is Harry?" I asked and suddenly they became serious. I beckoned them over to the house and with some trepidation they came, giggling and pushing each other. "You are not going to do weird things with us?" one of the girls asked and blushed fiercely. I lifted both my hands in surrender: "I promise at least I won't bite!" causing more giggles. They neared the porch and one of the boys suddenly climbed the steps. After that in a few seconds I was surrounded by five children in age from about eight to about twelve years old I thought. "This is Jack's house and Harry used to be here all the time!" the twelve year old boy suddenly told me. "Now he is really devastated and he still cries every day for he misses his big friend a lot. Please mister will you be kind to him and not chase him away? He really misses Jack and we all like him very much." Did I see a tear in his eyes? "Can you tell me more about Jack and Harry?" I asked, not really knowing how to react. They looked at each other. After a silence the twelve year old suddenly looked me straight in the eyes. "They loved each other a lot, but it was a secret..." he said and I really could feel them all tense up. "Will you now betray us and tell the children's wardship about him and us?" Again I lifted my hands in surrender: "I NEVER would do that to any of you! I promise, cross my heart and die!" All of the sudden I had a lap full of boy, crying his eyes out. Two other boys and two girls surrounded me and tried to climb the forming pile to get nearer. A couple of minutes we all comforted each other until at last the pile broke down again. I gave the twelve year old boy my handkerchief to dry his eyes and held him a few minutes longer until at last his sobs lessened. "I don't have much to drink in the house for the moment," I told them to break the tension, "but perhaps I can make you some tea?" They all agreed and I warmed some water in the kitchen. After a few minutes I came back with a kettle of tea and my twelve year old boy carried a tray with some glasses and a box with sugar lumps and a few spoons. They all settled down on the porch. "Now I am really curious!" I told them after we drunk our tea with sugar and put the glasses back onto the tray. "But first I would like to know your name. To begin with me: my name is Harry." "Are you serious? You're not pulling our leg?" a girl piped up. "No, I am serious. My name really is Harry! Will you have a look at my passport?" I convinced her. "I am John," the twelve year old boy spoke up, "and I am thirteen years old. This is my brother Mark and he's eleven. This is my sister Marrie and she's ten. That's my friend Thomas and he's twelve and the girl over there is his sister Chrissy and she's nine." After a short pause he added: "And Harry is only eight years old and he is our really very very best friend!" John told me the whole story; from time to time filled in by the other four children. Two years ago suddenly a gipsy cart appeared in a clearing along the road, populated by a man, a woman and a small boy. After a day or so the boy came to Jack's house for some water and Jack helped the gypsies out with water, food and clothes. The inhabitants of the village didn't really like gypsies and a few days later all of the sudden in the middle of the night there was a fire. The cart burnt down, the man and the woman died in the fire. The little boy survived but was badly burnt. There was no insurance and Jack paid everything for the little boy, from the hospital to all medicines. The moment the boy left the hospital children's wardship took over and placed the boy in an institute. Jack broke down and the five children found him in the morning in his backyard, crying his heart out. They warned their parents and Jack told his story of loving the little boy from the first moment he saw him, buying clothes for him, nurturing him in the hospital after the fire, comforting him with the loss of his parents, building a very strong relationship with the little tyke. And now they have taken him away... The four parents tried to get the children's wardship to trust Jack with guardianship over the little boy, but as a single man living on his own there was no chance he could take a six year old little boy into his house, befriended or not. At last they reached an understanding: John's parents would take the boy into their house and raise him. And so the little six year old gypsy boy became John's little brother. And of course Mark's and Marrie's little brother too. And Thomas's and Chrissy's little friend. They all protected him from the other children in the town, they defended him when necessary, and they kept the secret a secret: Harry spent most of his time with his Big Friend Jack in his house. Until a few months ago Jack suddenly died... Now I had tears in my eyes. I hugged the children one by one and I assured them Harry would always be welcome in my house and they all five always would be welcome too. Suddenly there was a silence and the children looked at each other... "Harry," John addressed me without looking at me, " there's something else we need to tell you. Little Harry is burnt really very severely. Even in his face. Everyone in the village calls him a freak and an alien..." Chapter 2 will follow shortly. All comments to harry@hadjo.nl