Date: Fri, 29 Apr 2005 21:48:41 +0200 From: hadjo Subject: Harry-9 English is not my native language, so please have some consideration... Chapter 8 ended with: Half an hour later three children entered the house with a load of boxes, bags, a camp bed, two skateboards and a couple of games. A very happy John hugged me nearly to death and went to his new own room, accompanied by a beaming Harry. Mark and Marrie left after a glass of cola and promised to write a postcard now and then. Trudy came by to say farewell, and all of the sudden I had two boys living in my house, just as Christian forecast... Chapter 9. It sounded like two heavy elephants with at least four pair of legs each descending the stairs, and after two seconds a very happy pair of boys entered the room, laughing and pushing each other. "Do you have something to eat?" they asked in stereo. "Growing boys needing a lot of food, for they want to become as big and as strong as me?" I laughed. They both grinned at me. I ruffled their hair and Harry jumped onto my back while John melted into my arms. Together we went to the kitchen and my suddenly rumbling stomach told me I hadn't eaten myself too this morning! Totally forgotten... John dived into the fridge while Harry took the cereal with him to the table. No tasty cooking this morning. They poured themselves a glass of milk and a plate of cereal while I treated myself with a cup of fresh coffee. "What did that psychic medium Christian tell you yesterday?" John suddenly asked. "I am a gypsy prince! My father and my mother both were of royal herit... herit-something. But they had to flee for the police in a witch hunt and they went to this country with their little son, that's me. After a few months they decided to go back to our own folks but some people burnt our caravan down and only I survived. That's why I am living here with you now." "WOW! You really are a PRINCE?" "Yes, I always knew I had to help other people out as kind of a task, but I didn't know why. But now I know... my people are waiting for me, for I am their leader when I am big enough. Only I don't know where they are living..." "Wow! So I should call you Prince Harry from now on?" "You're crazy! Don't you DARE! We have to keep this a secret for everyone until I am big enough!" "Is this really the truth mister? Or is he making those things up..." "He is really telling the truth!" "Wow..." "There's more. Christian also told us dad's little brother who was burnt just like me but died, came back to earth as Jack! That's why dad now is living in Jack's former house for Jack asked a couple of spirits to help him. Dad and Jack are brothers! And there's still more. In another life I was dad's real son and he tried to rescue my life with only a small knife but a bear killed both of us. You were our very best friend and you killed that bear with your bare hands! But you died too, and now you are back here with us as the son of Jack..." Suddenly the room went quiet and little Harry clasped his hands for his mouth with a shocked expression on his face. "I was not allowed to tell you that..." Slowly John looked from Harry to me and back to Harry with a sudden comprehension in his eyes. He thought for a minute and then barely visible nodded his head. "I always suspected Eric wasn't my real father... but I never knew for sure. Mark and Marrie both look like him, but I look totally different. And he was always picking on me and never on Mark..." The rest of the meal we were silent. Harry stared at his plate and now and then took a spoonful of cereal with a blush on his face. John was deep in thoughts with a frown on his forehead. I was contemplating how to go on and explain those things to John. Was this my fault? How would John react when the full significance of this revelation would dawn onto him? Suddenly a voice sounded somewhere into my head: "He had to know..." After the meal both boys washed the plates and put away the rest of the cereal and the milk. We went to the living room and the boys settled down on the coach while I sat down on a chair. We looked at each other and suddenly John threw himself onto my lap. "Can I call you dad too please? I understand now in reality you are my uncle, but I don't like that word..." I looked at little Harry and again we had a conversation without words. He nodded his consent. "You may call me dad if you wish for as long as you are here, but please never tell that to your father or to your mother. Ok?" "He isn't my father!" John answered with a lot of bitterness in his voice, "and I wish I had known that for real before. That's why I always felt so at ease with Jack and I even looked like him... I wish I had known that before. But now I have you!" He threw his arms around my neck and kissed me, passionate and at the same time with a lot of tenderness. And I really could feel Jack looking at us with tears in his eyes... Ten seconds later little Harry sat down onto my other knee and claimed his share. And I felt wonderful, loving and loved, caring and cared for, father, friend, educator and responsible helper all in one. I had found my purpose in life! After a while the boys went outside with their skateboards and I installed my computer on the desk. All lights on the cable modem were burning now, but I still couldn't get any internet connection. After some trying I phoned the company and a nice helpdesk operator guided me through the new setup. Suddenly there was the homepage and a lot of emails were streaming in, mostly junk. I thanked the nice guy and first sorted my emails out. Spam, spam, spam, and one email from my eldest daughter congratulating me with my new house. I wrote an email back with some details and best wishes, and after that started a search engine. Soon I was looking at all sorts of burnt skin, operation wounds and bandages. It was an overwhelming mass of information, descriptions of healing processes and all sorts of medicines. There seemed to be three degrees of burning, the first degree only caused blisters, the second degree caused loss of skin and the third degree caused dead flesh and deep wounds. Looking at the pictures I concluded Harry had a lot of third degree burnings, just like my little brother Joshie when I was young. Flesh and muscles were gone, skin had to be transported from other parts of the body to cover the open wounds. A long and very painful process... A few sites hinted at the possibility of transplantation, but nowhere was information to be found about that... After a while I looked at 'adoption' and again there was an overwhelming mass of information. Soon two things became very clear: it would be very difficult for I was a single parent; and it would be nearly impossible for I was too old. Guardianship was only granted when both parents or relatives yielded their consent. But what happens when a boy doesn't have any known relatives? Nothing answered that... Two happy looking boys stumbled into the living room with flushed and sweaty faces. "When are we eating dad?" "Eating? Again? So soon?" "We are still growing boys you know..." I looked at the clock and nodded. I had no idea I had been looking at those internet sites for more than three hours... I buttered some slices of bread while Harry baked a couple of eggs and John sliced some lettuce and herbs. Simple but again very tasteful. We ended the meal with each a big orange and a cup of tea. Thomas yelled from the doorway and both boys hugged me and disappeared again. The rest of the afternoon I sat behind my computer, searching for a solution that allowed me to legally be Harry's father. But the only way seemed to be: marry a wife that's a lot younger than me and then adopt him... and that wasn't to my liking at all. Why was this so difficult? At the end of the day three sweaty boys stumbled into the living room with flushed faces. "Can Thomas eat with us dad? His parents aren't home and his sister is with her friend..." "Of course you may eat with us! But first you will have to wash your face and your hands!" "Can we have a shower?" "Of course you can. You do know where the clean towels are?" They disappeared upstairs and after a minute I heard the water streaming and three boys playing and laughing. After twenty minutes I went upstairs to have a look at what they were doing all that time. John had built some fort of plastic cups and Thomas and Harry were trying to blow it down with a water gun made of a balloon and a couple of drinking reeds. The moment they detected me two reeds pointed at me and a moment later I was totally drenched. They bellowed with laughter! I retreated but came back a minute later with a bucket of icecold water. Now they screamed and tried to avoid the cold, but in vain for I brought two buckets with me... And what did Thomas say? "I wish you were my dad..." I went to my bedroom to change out of my wet clothes, followed by three soaked naked boys. "Do you have any more dry towels dad? They are all wet..." Good heavens... is that how a household with growing boys runs? They had to share the last dry towel I could find and promised to better their lives the next time they showered and started to play. And I made a mental note to buy an extra couple of towels. What would be the next surprise? Out of water? We ordered pizza's and the boys played a game on the computer until the delivery man rang the bell. It was a wonder he didn't lose his fingers in the pile of groping hands around the pizza boxes! They seemed to be starved again. Soon even the table was licked clean and the boys went outdoors again with their inseparable skateboards. I started my search again and suddenly I came upon a country where adoption was nearly always granted. The only restriction was that I had to be an inhabitant for at least three months. Well, that didn't seem to be a insurmountable problem! I decided to contact a lawyer some day to ask his advice and made some notes about addresses and fax numbers. Perhaps this could be a solution? At nine o'clock Thomas went to his parents and my boys came home, tired but very happy. They started to tell me about their new adventures with a thirteen year old boy a couple of streets away who had never met Harry before. At first he was very silent and furtively stared at Harry, but after some time he suddenly taught Harry how to do a double curve on his skateboard and the ice was broken. When they sat down for a rest he started to ask some questions and Harry told him everything about the fire, his operations and his new mask. The new boy got some tears in his eyes and now they both feel they have found a new friend. "I never knew dad, that it would be so very easy to make new friends, even when you have a freaky face!" "That's because now you are really proud of yourself," John explained with a big grin on his face, "come on, let's look what's on TV..." I went back to my computer and found another homepage with information about adoptions. After a while two boys leaned against my back and looked over my shoulder at what I was doing. "You are really going to ADOPT me dad?" "Well... I was looking at the possibilities, but it's not that easy." "Please dad! I want to be your REAL son..." "Can you adopt me too dad? I want to be your real son too!" John pleaded with craving eyes. "That will be even more difficult John, for you already have a real dad!" "I NEVER had a real dad!" John answered with a lot of venom in his voice, "that man never was my father. I never knew what a real dad could be until I met Jack two years ago. Jack let me discover what a real father could be. He played with me, he really listened to me, he taught me things, he teased me and he comforted me. HE was my real dad, and now I don't have a dad any more, so now you can adopt me for I'm free! I want YOU to be my father..." I ruffled his hair and he melted into me, with little Harry on my other side. "I want John to be my real brother..." I put a bunch of soaked towels in the dryer and after they were slightly dry we went upstairs to have a shower and to go to bed. "May I sleep in your waterbed too?" John asked, throwing his arms around me. "Yes dad, the bed is big enough for all three of us, and we never will tell anybody!" Harry pleaded. "Well.... ok, we will see how it goes," I answered with some trepidation. How would Eric react when he ever came to know this? "Yippee! You are the best dad in the whole world!" The shower was fun again, for John's plastic cup fort was still intact and he defended it with his life. At last Harry and me worked together, we blew a breach into the wall and the pile suddenly collapsed with plastic cups and paperclips scattering everywhere on the floor. We high-fived and I felt like a little boy again. After washing each others hair and back we tidied the mess and went to bed. Harry nestled himself against my left side, closed his eyes and was gone. John nestled himself against my right side, threw his arm around my waist and laid his head onto my shoulder. I could feel his pecker poking into me. "Harry..., eh... dad?" "Yes son?" "... I like that, you calling me son. I wish I could be your son for real!" "I can't promise anything, but I will give it a try. Ok?" "Yes please! And... can I... may I ask you some question?" "Of course! You can ask me everything you want to know." "Do you... I mean, when you were a boy, did you... you know, play with yourself sometimes?" I could feel him stir and hold his breath. "Yes John, when I was at the beginning of puberty like you are now, I played with myself all the time." He breathed out with a hissing sound and I could feel him relax. "Thomas' father told him it is a sin and God will punish you for it with AIDS..." "No John, the God they are talking about has created you just as you are, and the Bible tells us he saw it was GOOD. He created sex to have FUN, to enjoy the feelings, and AIDS has nothing to do with that. So you are allowed to play with yourself every time it's making you feel good, and please never listen to people who are trying to make you a sinner because of that." "But... when you... I mean, are like... er... playing with each other?" "It's the same. Enjoy the feelings, have fun with each other, with only one restriction: it has to be mutual. Never abuse anyone else or push another person to do things he or she doesn't want to do and you will be fine." "Thank you dad. There's a burden off my shoulders!" "You are welcome son." Slowly he turned onto his back and nestled himself against my side. After a while his breathing became a bit faster and he shuddered. "Dad? Did you ever do it? I mean, play with another boy when you were thirteen years old?" "Yes John, I played with a friend in a barn behind our school, and he played with me too. It was a wonderful feeling and we both enjoyed it very much." "When I tell you a secret, will you promise me to never tell it to anyone else?" "Don't you trust me John?" "Sorry dad... of course I do trust you. But I am a bit ashamed to tell you... Thomas and me, when we slept together a few months ago, well, we compared our things and we both went stiff. That's when Thomas told me about his father's warnings. We felt each others balls and played a bit with each others thing, and suddenly we both got a marvelous feeling, like shaking all over your body. After that we played many more times with each other and I started to play with myself a lot. Every time it felt really good and I couldn't imagine God would punish you for something that's feeling that wonderful..." "Every boy plays with himself. Some boys start at a very young age, others start later, but in puberty every boy does it. And it's fun." I could feel him thinking... "Dad? Are you still playing with yourself? I mean, sometimes?" "Yes John, only my sex-drive has diminished a lot due to my age. In puberty and thereafter most boys do it at least once a day or more, but at the age of sixty-five I am restricted to about once in two weeks. And it is still fun!" "Dad, will you play with me please?" I took him in my arms, he crawled onto me and melted into me, softly shaking. "You know son, we live in a world that doesn't approve of men doing sexual things to boys. When I play with you they could send me to prison for abusing you, even when you are wanting it yourself and ask me for it. That's how the law is..." "I know dad, they told us about this in school and I read about it on the internet. You could get into a lot of trouble, but nobody has to know! I will never tell our private things to anybody else, I promise! You really can trust me." I played with him. He turned around with his back on my breast and his cheek against my cheek and spread himself out as far as he could. He was uncircumcised as most boys in our country are with exception of Jewish boys and his balls clearly had started to grow. I could feel a little fuzz of hair. It didn't take much time. Within two minutes he started to shake and grumble and threw his hips high into the air. And then it was over. He immediately turned around and collapsed on top of me with his nose in my armpit, just like little Harry. Thirty seconds later he was asleep and I dozed off myself too, to my own surprise without any feelings of guilt or shame. The next morning I awoke with two boys on my stomach, grinning and fighting for the best place. "Hi sleepyhead!" Harry teased me, "I thought you would never wake up!" "Hi dad!" John beamed and kissed me full on the lips, "I love you!" I threw my arms around my boys and felt on cloud nine. ------- Chapter 10 will follow... Thank you for all your wonderful emails! There are too many to answer each of them, so to you who sent me mail but didn't receive an answer: THANK YOU A LOT! Keep sending, I love my fanmail. Some excerpts: *Have been reading "Harry" and I am enjoying the story very much. Thank You for such a great story. I have been to Holland on a number of occasions, and loved it. Great place. *I'm enjoying your story so much that I had to stop and let your know. It takes someone with a whole lot of love to share to get attached to a person that has been horribly scarred. The scarring is on the inside as well as on the outside, and the adult Harry must be a very special person to accept the responsibility. There is a lesson to be learned by reading this story and possibly you can help convey to readers what the right way is to meet someone who has been disfigured. I know that someone in a wheelchair often feels like they are invisible as people tend not to look at them. Then there are those who resent attention, so it can be awkward. *Good chapter. Different. It will be interesting to see where you go with the story. One small suggestion, if you don't mind. Your use of learned as something someone does to another is outside common usage in both the United States and Canada and I assume also in England. The "teacher" teaches - the "student" learns. In other words "Jack taught me the language." Harry learned the language. That is not a criticism. You see, I can't control myself. I'm an old English teacher. *You let the story take a twist seldom seen in this forum. Well I like it so my word is- cust go on - I look forward to the next chapter *Harry, what a tremendous job you are doing with this story. Thanks for writing it for us. I can hardly wait for the next chapters to read the adventures these three are going to be involved in. Thanks. *I really like this story! I'm writing for nifty for just a year and I'm from Germany! So the problems with the foreign language aren't new for me. It's a really nice love-story! Don't let them tell you there isn't enough sex in it! It wouldn't fit. *Your story (now our story) is good to read. I find the characters to seem genuine and young Harry to be very precocious. I have met two children who are aware of the larger plan for their life, I believe it to be rare that a child is gifted in this manner. Well, I am blushing enough for now. Again thank you for sending me these wonderful emails! 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.