Date: Mon, 25 Apr 2005 20:23:17 +0200
From: hadjo <hadjo@hadjo.nl>
Subject: Harry-7 (Revised)

English is not my native language, so please have some consideration...

Chapter 6 ended with:

"From this mold I can make a copy of your face to model the mask with.
Within two days it will be ready to fit and you will be a newborn boy!"

He turned to big Harry: "You have a wonderful son!"


Chapter 7.

We made an appointment to come back within two days to fit the mask for
little Harry. Harry again threw his arms around Peter and gave him a warm
and wet kiss.

"Thank you, thank you for helping me with my face! I knew you were the
right person!"

Did I see tears in Peter's eyes? We shook hands and went back to the
car. Harry and John took the backseat and I switched on the radio. Both
boys seemed rather impressed and were very quiet on the way back to the
village. First we went to the supermarket.

"I want to join you!" little Harry announced and bounced out of the car. He
went straight to the sliding doors and inside the store, followed by a
rather amazed John and me.

"Do you have a coin? I will drive the shopping cart," and off he went to
the pile of carts. He came back with a big grin on his face, stared at by
at least three other customers.

"Don't judge me by how I look, but look for who I really am!" he told the
staring customers with a lot of proudness in his voice. Two of the people
shuffled away, a tall man with a beard and a moustache gave him the thumbs
up.

"That's my boy!" he smiled, "you certainly will achieve wonderful things in
your life. Be always proud of yourself!"

"I will!" Harry smiled back and headed for the first pile of groceries. We
filled the cart with the foodstuff we thought we should need for the next
week and headed for the cash register. Two people were ahead of us so we
had to wait for a while. Suddenly two girls started to giggle and pointed
at little Harry.

"Look at that! What kind of a creature is this? What a freak... hey alien,
you are on the wrong planet!"

John growled and balled his fists. But before he could attack the girls the
tall man with the beard and moustache intervened and took both girls by
their ear lappets. He dragged them to the exit.

"Piss off, and don't let me see you here again! Perhaps you may come back
when you have got a better understanding of the words 'compassion' and
'esteem'. This boy has more humanity in himself than both of you together."

Both girls went through the sliding doors, red-faced and very silent, and
the man introduced himself to us.

"My name is Christian, and I am very impressed by the way your son is
coping with his inconvenience. He has a wonderful aura and a very strong
spirit and in this life he is going to help others to cope with their own
problems. I also will compliment your other son who so proudly stood up for
his brother. He has a very big heart with a lot of love in it. And you sir,
you may be proud of yourself too, for you are really caring for your boys
and you are turning into a beautiful soul with a lot of compassion!"

He ruffled the hair of little Harry who looked at him with a smile on his
face, and of John who looked rather impressed.

"I hope I am not imposing on you too much, but I have a message for
you. I'm working as a psychic medium, and spirit wishes to contact both you
and your youngest son. It seems to be rather important so please don't
hesitate too long..."

To say I was thunderstruck isn't strong enough to express my feelings at
that moment. He is a psychic? Spirit wishes to contact me?
How... when... what spirit? I looked at little Harry who seemed to like the
man, and then at John who seemed to trust him too. His mother told me he
was a very good judge of character... could I really trust this stranger
Christian? Suddenly a thought of Jack crossed my mind and I even imagined I
could feel him around. Does Jack have a message for me and for little
Harry? I thought I heard a distinct "Yes" somewhere in my head. Well... ok
then, I will go for it.

"Thank you!" Christian said as if I had told him my decision aloud, "shall
we meet this evening around eight o'clock? To prove it's genuine your
spirit friend now lets me know your youngest boy isn't your real son in
this life, and the other boy is his best friend."

How the hell did he know??? I was more and more astounded and hesitantly
gave him my address and phone number.

I was very silent the way back home. How was that possible? A total
stranger approaches us, clearly knows when I am making a decision in my
head, and tells me things he impossible could know... is this for real? The
more I thought about it, the more I looked forward to this evening at eight
o'clock. What message did Jack have for us? And would John be allowed to be
there too? Will I see ghosts this evening, or will Christian go into a
trance and speak with another voice like in those movies? I certainly hope
it will not be too creepy...

Both boys helped me unpack all groceries and put everything away in the
kitchen.

"I will cook this evening!" little Harry announced, "are you eating with us
John?"

"I don't know..." John hesitantly answered, "my mother will be back from
town about four o'clock and she hasn't seen me the whole day, so I am
afraid I will not be allowed this evening... but I certainly will see you
back tomorrow morning, unless my father will have another of his bright
ideas and let me do some chores first!"

That moment the doorbell rang and outside stood a joyous Thomas and Chrissy
with two brand new skateboards.

"Are you coming with us? We're going to try out our new boards!"

"All right! I am getting my own board and Harry can use Mark's if he
wishes."

"Oh yes, of course I wish! Coming with you! Bye dad!" Harry gave me a wet
kiss and went to the door. Suddenly he stopped and turned around with a
confused look on his face.

"Sorry..." he said and his face turned red, "I shouldn't have said
that... but I wish you WERE my dad!" And off they went, joyful pushing each
other and leaving me alone in the kitchen.

For the first time in three days I was glad I was alone. There was so much
I had to think about... it was as if my head was filled up with thoughts
and I had to drain all of them first before there could be peace in me
again. What was happening to me? Three days ago I was on my own and
retired, with enough money to live in peace for the rest of my life. All of
the sudden a small boy bounces into my life and steals my heart and my
soul. He even called me dad... Why? Why am I so devoted to this young boy?

I went to the fridge and took a beer with me to the porch. In the distance
I could hear the voices of the children, the slightly deeper voice of John
who was on the border of puberty, the somewhat hoarse voice of his friend
Thomas, the high pitched voice of Chrissy and the very clear and pure voice
of my boy, resonating in my heart and warming my soul. I am in LOVE with
that boy! But why?

I like John, I like him very much. From the very moment he looked at me
three days ago he felt as a dear friend. And when he suddenly jumped onto
my lap and cried his eyes out, it felt complete natural as if we were
totally at ease with each other. That's why I told him everything about my
life without any restriction the next morning, I just knew I could trust
him.

Mark I am not sure about. Sometimes he seems a little bit jealous of little
Harry and we don't have a real contact with each other.  Marrie is like a
little mother, nurturing and caring. She and Harry seem to like each other
and I feel she is a good person.

Thomas is just a real boy, a rascal. Always up to something daring and
testing the boundaries. He was the first one to climb the steps to the
porch and approach me three days ago. I like him, but I don't feel a real
connection with him.

Chrissy is still a little girl, glad she is allowed to join the club. She
is a bit childish and giggly but she seems ok.

And Harry... the very moment John mentioned his name for the first time I
felt a flow of deep compassion and happiness stream through my body and my
heart jumped with pure joy. Why? Why do I feel like little Harry and me
BELONG to each other?

And then there's Jack, the former owner of the house and he approves of me,
according to little Harry. Two months ago he suddenly died and the family
sold the house to me for a very reasonable price. I had been searching for
ages but couldn't find a house that satisfied my wishes. Until my eyes fell
on a little advertisement in the local papers and I suddenly felt an
irresistible urge to phone the unknown owners. Two days later the house
belonged to me. I hired a contractor to perform a few minor adjustments and
within two weeks I moved to my new residence. A few hours later five little
children contacted me and my whole life went upside down...

Why do I feel so totally in harmony with Jack? I have seen him in my mind,
after I asked John to bring little Harry to me. He looked about fifty years
old, with bright brown eyes and a very warm smile. And somewhere he
remembers me of my own little brother Joshie... he's giving me that same
feeling of being in harmony with each other. Strange...

"Dad, look!" a familiar voice called me out of my reverie. There was little
Harry, skating with a lot of bravery and performing some curves, followed
by John, Thomas and Chrissie. They all waved at me and went to the corner
of the street where they disappeared.

Where was that shy little boy that hided himself for the neighborhood and
only furtively slipped to his friends via the backyards? It was really
astonishing how he had improved himself in a day's time and now stood up
for who he is! Suddenly he radiated a lot of power and self-esteem and
played just like every other 'normal' boy. I was very proud of him. And
again he called me 'dad'...

I realized I didn't know very much about him. Did he go to school? Where?
To a normal school or to a special school for handicapped children? Did he
already have any plans for his future? John mentioned Harry had to go back
to hospital within a week, but where and when? And who would pay for his
operations? I decided to have a talk with Eric and Trudy as soon as
possible. To whom belonged Harry in reality? Did he have any relatives? And
the most important question: was there any possibility I could adopt him as
my son?

That little word 'dad' had stirred something deep within me, a profound
longing to be really connected to my boy. MY boy...

Suddenly the joyful sounds of playing children seemed to change. Somebody
shouted and I thought I heard a lot of swearing and calling names. There
was a silence and after that a somewhat older voice started to
curse. Another scream and again silence. After a couple of seconds all four
children came running to my house, clutching their skateboards under their
arms.

"That son of a bitch!" John cursed and sat down next to me on the porch,
heavily breathing.

"I kicked him in the nuts and he screamed like a pig!" Thomas proudly
announced and sat himself down next to John.  "I jumped up and punched his
nose!" Chrissy giggled and sat down on my other side.

Harry silently sat himself down onto my lap and I threw my arms around
him. He melted into me and started to sob.

"He is always pestering Harry and calling him names, with his big mouth and
his bad manners," John raged and threw his skateboard somewhere onto the
porch without looking, "but I will get him! Next time I will bring a
baseball bat with me!"

After some time they told me what happened. It seemed two streets away a
boy of about sixteen years old left his house without looking and was
nearly run over by Harry. He kicked Harry off his skateboard, started to
shout at him and called him a freaky alien. John didn't take that and
started yelling back. The boy threatened John and John hit him with his
skateboard. The boy cursed and threw himself at John, but suddenly Thomas
stepped in and kicked him in the nuts while Chrissy punched his nose. The
boy screamed and turned very pale, and they left the battlefield and
hurried to me.

"Harry is bleeding!" Chrissy told me and I looked him over. Everything
seemed to be all right, except for a small flesh wound on his knee and a
big dent in his self-esteem. John went into the house and came back with a
wet cloth, a small bottle of iodine and a plaster. Carefully he cleaned
Harry's knee, put a drop of iodine into the wound what caused a sharp
intake of breath with Harry, and administered the plaster like a
professional. I took my handkerchief and dried Harry's eyes; and slowly he
started to smile again.

"You really GOT him! And he was very BIG too! Wow!"

"Hi..." Mark and Marrie presented themselves, "mom asks you to come over
and move Harry's stuff to his new room."

"Is dad already back?" John asked with some trepidation.

"Not yet," Marrie answered, "and I really hope he will NEVER come back! We
are better off without him!"

She looked little Harry over: "What's that plaster on your knee? Are you
wounded?"

"Nah, just kicked off Mark's skateboard by that big boy next street that
always shouts at me. But John hit him with his skateboard, Thomas kicked
his nuts and Chrissy punched his nose!"

"Wow! You really did that?"

"Yeah..."

"Wow!"

We all went into John's house and were greeted by a sad looking Trudy. She
offered us a cup of tea with a pastry and the children climbed up the
stairs to get Harry's possessions. They came back with a couple of small
boxes filled with clothing and some playing stuff. In rank they marched
away to Harry's new old home while Trudy took me to the garage, to have a
look at Harry's small desk. It was very old and rather rickety so I decided
to buy him a new one. We went back into the house.

"Can you tell me something more about Harry?" I asked her after we both
took place on the sofa.

"We don't know very much about him..." Trudy answered with a sigh, "for
everything was burnt down in that caravan and he was only six years old. He
hardly knew his last name and date of birth. His last name sounded rather
foreign, something like 'Romany', and we suppose he even didn't spell it
right. Children's wardship tried to track down where his parents came from,
but so far everything has been in vain. Nobody seems to recognize them or
know anything about them. The only things we know is that he assumedly is a
gypsy and his day of birth probably is march the third."

"Did Harry go to a special school, and when school will start again?"

"The first half year after the fire he spent most of his time at the
hospital, and after that he had major surgery three more times, so he never
went to school. Jack seemed to have some grade in tutoring so Harry was
officially allowed to take home lessons a few hours every day and they even
paid Jack for it. After Jack's sudden death we talked everything through
and we decided to try to put Harry after the holidays into a normal school,
that's within five weeks from now... but now I have a question for you too!
John told me you have been married and you have two children of your own?"

"Yes, that's right," I confirmed.

"Well, Jack couldn't get Harry into custody for he was never married. But
you certainly can... and perhaps you even could adopt him. I would like you
to think that over for a while, and I will be glad to recommend you to the
authorities in case you would decide positively!"

"All done! Everything is in place except for Harry's desk," John announced
and they all entered the room.

"Well, I looked after your old desk and it's rather rickety, so I thought
about buying you a little present..." I announced.

Harry's eyes brightened. "Really? Wow! Can I have a computer-desk with such
a sliding thing in the middle?"

"We'll see when we go back to Peter's shop. First we'll try your new mask
on and after that we'll look for a new desk. OK?"

"OKAY. Marvelous!"

"New mask? What are you talking about?" Marrie asked with a big question
mark on her face.

We reported everything we experienced that morning, inclusive the attacking
lady, Harry's new face, the happenings in the supermarket and Christian's
pending visit at eight o'clock this evening.

"Mom, may I eat with Harry and little Harry this evening? Harry is cooking
tonight..." John asked with a pleading look on his face.

"Ok, but I will see you back in the house before eight o'clock. You have to
do some chores too you know."

"Thanks mom! You are the best."

I wasn't allowed to enter my own kitchen for half an hour, so I sat down on
the porch again and counted the minutes. Vaguely I could hear the two boys
deliberate about something and twice little Harry appeared in the backyard
to get some herbs with a big grin on his face. Slowly a wonderful smell
started to fill the air and my stomach reacted by rumbling aloud. What were
they cooking?

After half an hour two very proud looking boys appeared on the porch and
invited me into the house. We went straight to the living room. They had
set the table in the middle of the room with a white table cloth draped
over it. On three sides of the table was a chair and in front of all chairs
on the table was a plate and some cutlery. Seven little candles joyful
burned, one in each corner and one with each plate. Two covered dishes
waited in the center. Soft music sounded from the CD-player and a wonderful
aroma filled the room.

"Wow!" I exclaimed, "I feel like a king. What are you doing to me?"

They both beamed and John guided me to my chair.

It was fun to see the proudly beaming face of little Harry just above the
table, giving directions to John how to remove the lid of one of the dishes
and scoop up the potage. I don't know what it was or how they made it, but
it tasted delicious! After the potage they went to the kitchen and John
came back with a steaming platter filled with some sort of puree, decorated
with vegetables; followed by Harry carrying a platter with a tasty looking
and even more tasty smelling salmon. We all three scooped up some of the
puree, a few vegetables and a piece of the salmon. The second dish was
opened and turned out to be filled with fried potatoes.

Never in my life I had eaten so much and so delicious! Little Harry really
was a very talented cook, for it was very clear that John only helped him
and he gave all directions like a head cook befits. No word was spoken, we
all were too busy with eating and savoring. After the meal three small
sorbets came aboard to fill the last empty holes and now we were really
stuffed!

"Wow!" I exclaimed after the meal, "never in my life I have enjoyed a meal
so much. You are an excellent cook and I think you will make a good living
out of it when you will be old enough."

"I will NOT become a cook," Harry answered with a frown and he looked me
straight into my eyes, "I love cooking and I will always love it, but when
I am old enough I am going to help other people with their problems. That's
what that Christian fellow told me, but I already knew that before. I feel
I have sort of a task to fulfill in my life..."

He drifted off and his eyes stared in a far distance. Suddenly I felt Jack
around and I heard somewhere in my head: "He is right. This evening you
will hear more about it..." Or was I making that up myself? I wasn't
sure...

After a while we went to the kitchen and washed the dishes and the
cutlery. I made a cup of coffee for myself and the boys both took a glass
of cola. Time went by and suddenly it was nearly eight o'clock. Time for
John to go home.

"See you tomorrow in the morning!" he said and we both got a fierce
hug. And off he went.

Now we were both anxious waiting for that medium Christian. What would he
tell us?

-------

Chapter 8 will follow...


There seems to be a small lag in the emails... or is that the silence
before the storm?

A small compilation:

*This story feels positive and full of energy right now. That is the boy
attitude I like most.

*Just this note of encouragement. I started reading your story. Realizing
that your first language is Dutch, your English is excellent. I live in the
USA and believe me, no American boy could write a story like you did
without a lot of mistakes, especially in spelling.

*This is a wonderful story, I am enjoying it very much. Pay no attention to
those who are negative, you write English very well. Thanks again for a
very good story; can't wait for the next chapter.

*Another good chapter. Thanks!

*Ik moet je vertellen dat ik je verhaal voor het eerst hier zie en ik
genoot erg van het verhaal. Komen er nog meer afleveringen? Ik hoop van
wel...

Thank you for your encouragements! I love all your emails, even the
smallest.

Please send your comments (or hints how to go on) to my mailbox:

mailto:harry@hadjo.nl

and thank you very much for reading my first story in the English language.

My native language is Dutch (Nederlands) and I am living in The
Netherlands.