Date: Wed, 31 Aug 2005 19:33:36 +0200 From: Harry Anders Subject: Little Harry-15 15. BJ survives, and little Harry visits the graveyard. The doorbell rang and John rushed to the door. He returned with a smile on his face, followed by BJ, Jason, Carl, and Nicky. They sat down around the kitchen table, and I offered them a drink. BJ looked, other than being rather big, also rather agitated. "May I have a talk in private with you, please?" "Yes, of course. Let's go to the living room. Boys, will you please leave us alone for a while?" We brought our coffee with us and took two easy chairs, facing each other. BJ winced a bit, obviously he suffered more pain. "Your gypsy boy made me think... I wanted to sell our house and set up a fund for Jason and Nicky, and now, of course, for Carl too. But that little Harry put forward a bright idea. He thought that perhaps Jason and Carl could live together in our house after I eventually pass away. They could be looked after by you and John, and of course also by himself, as long as that would be necessary. Nicky could choose where he would live, together with you and your boys, or with Jason and Carl in our house..." BJ took a sip of his coffee and stared into space. I waited patiently for him to go on. "I will be honest with you. The doctors offered me a treatment for my illness, but that implies going to a hospital for a long time. Of course I refused, because I didn't want to go on with my life as it was. But today everything seems to have changed, and now I want to survive. Jason and Carl love each other very much; and they want to be together for the rest of their lives. I still regret being such an asshole, but perhaps I can make it up to them in another way. I want to adopt Carl." He sniffled and wiped his eyes with a handkerchief. "Tomorrow I am going to the hospital, and I want to undergo that treatment. Without the treatment I will die within a few months, but since this morning I want to survive for my boys. I want to see them grow up and be happy with each other. They can live together in our house, and love each other as much as they want. And when it really is my time to go, they will inherit the house and everything else. Do you know a lawyer who can help me to achieve this within a reasonable time?" Of course I knew a good lawyer, and BJ looked relieved. "May I consider you my friend? You did so much to help me, and to help my boys..." Now I sniffled and wiped my eyes with a tissue. We embraced each other and looked into each others eyes for a long time. BJ nearly crunched me, and started to cry. "I never had a real friend in my life. I was always that big bully... nobody ever liked me. And now it's almost too late..." "It's never too late BJ, you can always change. And you HAVE changed! Now I consider you my friend too." We sat down again and discussed Carl's pending adoption. I would look after the house during the time BJ was in the hospital. His three boys would remain in their own house, looked after by me; and BJ would grant me shared custody for the time he couldn't be home himself. Satisfied with our agreement, we went back to the kitchen. The boys were in a heavy discussion about the new tree house. They deliberated all the pro's and contra's of supporting beams and iron clamps. Little Harry had drawn a nice picture with all measurements on it. John talked more with his hands than with his mouth, to depict what he had exactly in mind. After a while BJ asked for attention. "Carl, do you really want to be my adopted son?" A cannonball jumped up and launched himself at BJ, entangling him and crying and laughing at the same time. "Yes, yes sir, I really want you to be my dad! I love you daddy!" Everybody started to cheer and congratulate Carl and BJ, who were still embracing each other, both crying with joy. Suddenly Carl looked at me with a hint of fear in his eyes. "Sorry pop, I know YOU wanted to adopt me..." I smiled and ruffled his hair. "That's OK Carl, I wanted to help you out of that prison. But I think BJ will be a wonderful dad, and I know you will always be my special friend. You have my blessings, and I wish you all the luck in your new life." BJ, Carl, Jason, and Nicky went to their house, to prepare Carl's new room. They carried his belongings with them in a big box. But first we cuddled for a long time, and promised each other to always be welcomed in our homes. We even exchanged our front door keys. Jason looked at me, a bit shyly. "Pop, how about our tree house? Could we plan it as Carl and I did two years ago, and build it in our own back yard?" Ten minutes later we loaded the first pile of wood onto the roof of our golden van. We brought it back to it's old destination, where we piled it up in BJ's back yard. Soon our own back yard was empty again, with the exception of a big swimming pool. Carl and Jason both beamed and thanked us a thousand times, while BJ threw his big arms around his flock. "Now everything is as it was before. Still we want you to help us with the building of our tree house!" Little Harry immediately fished a piece of paper out of his back pocket. "We could even build our tree house as I originally designed it!" All boys agreed to help each other with the building, and finally we went home in our beautiful golden van. Our house felt empty, after all the emotions and happenings of the last days. We sat down on the couch in the living room and felt a little bit sad. Little Harry threw his arms around my neck. "Now only John and I are living here dad... just like it was before." John nodded and melted into me, while little Harry looked tired. "Shall we cook this evening or shall we order pizzas? I feel worn out from carrying all that lumber..." Davey threw his arms around me. "I have to be home before six o'clock pop. Mom and me are going to a birthday party this evening." He went home to dress for the party, and John ordered pizzas for the three of us. "I don't know what feels better, a house full of friends, or just us. All six of us was a lot of fun, but just the three of us feels nice too..." Our pizzas were delivered in twenty minutes, and devoured in no time. We cleared the table and enjoyed each other's company. After a while the phone rang. John answered the call. "It's my mom... She is home now, and wants to visit us." "Of course she is welcome! Tell her the coffee will be ready." Two minutes later the doorbell rang, and Trudy entered the living room with her arms around a beaming John. They were followed by Mark and Marrie, softly giggling and teasing each other. John and little Harry went into the kitchen to brew coffee and fetch some drinks. Soon we sipped our drinks and John climbed onto his mother's lap, while little Harry climbed onto my lap. Marrie and Mark leaned into their mother, still teasing each other. Trudy wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. "I started to feel homesick, so I decided to go home this afternoon. The house felt musty, so I opened all the windows and cleaned the place. I even bought some flowers and burned some incense to bring our house back to life. From now on I will stay home, and I will be there for my children. The divorce is pending and Eric will never again enter our house. Thank you very much for caring for John, I really appreciated that. But from now on I want him to be home with me and with my other children. Of course he is always allowed to visit you and little Harry. He is also allowed to spend the night here on a regular basis, but not every night. I hope you can understand why..." "Of course, I can understand why. You are his mother and he belongs with you and your family. But thank you for trusting me and allowing your son to be with us so much. I really enjoy his company, he's a wonderful friend to both little Harry and me!" We talked a lot, and of course the boys had to tell Trudy everything about all our big and small adventures. After a while Trudy started to yawn. "I am rather tired, and I think it's time to go home. Thank you for everything you did! Would you like to have dinner with us tomorrow?" "I really appreciate that! What do you think Harry, shall we accept the invitation?" Little Harry looked at me with a naughty smile on his face. "Of course we accept a free meal! That dismisses me from the duty of cooking tomorrow..." I chuckled, ruffled his hair, and tickled his ribs. "Yeah, we're really misusing you!" John promised us to be back tomorrow, after doing a lot of chores in his own house. We embraced each other and they went home. Suddenly our house felt very empty. Little Harry looked at me, and something passed between us, without words. Silently we went upstairs and entered my bedroom, where little Harry threw himself onto the waterbed. "Dad, will you pamper me tonight?" I knew what he meant. He always had to be brave, he was our chief cook, he was a gypsy prince and his folks waited on him, he was brilliant, but he also was a small boy with scars on his body and on his soul. After all, he was only eight years old! I smiled and silently sent him my love. He beamed his love back to me and sighed contentedly. I kneeled beside the bed and started to undress him. I pulled his socks off his feet, threw them into a corner, and kissed his toes, one by one. He squirmed and tried to escape the tickling sensation; until I took a toe in my mouth. Suddenly he went all mushy and I saw tears welling in his eyes. "What is it my little soul mate? What are you crying for?" "I don't know. I just feel too happy... My mother always sucked my toes after she washed them. But you suck them before you wash them, so you are a dirty old man!" I tickled his feet, and again he tried to escape. He squirmed and roared with laughter. "Let me go, you dirty old man. Rape!" "What do you say I am?" "My dirty old dad, and I love you! But please stop tickling my feet." Dirty old dad held him close for a long time, with tears in his eyes... After a while he got impatient and pushed me away. "I thought you would pamper me? Come on, what's next..." I smiled and unbuttoned his trousers. He lifted his hips, I peeled his trousers down his legs and threw them into a corner. I tugged at his t-shirt, and he lifted his arms helpfully into the air. I tugged at his Snoopy briefs, and again he lifted his hips to assist me. Now he was naked, and in my eyes he was the most beautiful creature I ever saw. Of course I saw the scars and the wild flesh in three different colors. But beyond that I saw the beauty of his soul and his love shining through. My beautiful soul mate! I lifted him off the bed and he threw his small arms around my neck. I took him with me to the shower and carefully put him down. He tenderly kissed me and sighed with a contented smile. I adjusted the water temperature and he sat down under the shower, with so much love in his eyes... I quickly undressed and threw my clothes into a corner. I joined him, took the soap and started to lather him up from head to toe. I washed him everywhere, turned him around and washed his back. I rinsed him off, took him into my arms and carefully dried him. I took him with me to our waterbed and covered him with the blankets. He yawned and was nearly asleep. I climbed next to him and turned the lights off. Immediately he clambered upon my stomach with a contented sigh and with his little distorted nose in my left armpit. "Thank you daddy, that was nice! I am glad we are together, and I really, really, really love you very much! I love your body, your heart, and your soul." Now I had to be careful not to crush him in my arms. My precious son, my beautiful soul mate... Next morning the sun peeking through a crack in the curtains woke me up. My little soul mate snored softly on my belly, still with his distorted nose in my left armpit. Gently I pushed him off my stomach, which immediately caused a struggle and a deep grunt. He opened his eyes and looked at me. "What are you doing?" "Sorry, but I have to visit the toilet." "Ok, I'm coming with you." He jumped off the bed, bright and shining, with his little pecker proudly pointing the way. Together we descended the stairs and emptied our bladders into the ceramic god, trying to cross our streams. We washed our hands in the kitchen, and little Harry started to make us breakfast with scrambled eggs and some of his famous herbs from the back yard, while I sipped my first cup of coffee. Little Harry munched on a piece of toast. "What are we going to do this morning?" "I don't know. What do you want to do?" "Could we do something together today, just the two of us?" "Yes, of course we could. Do you have any ideas?" "I hope you will not be mad at me dad, but I would like to visit the graveyard, where my real mum and dad are buried..." I looked at him and saw tears in his eyes. In my selfishness I had never thought about his real parents... I took him into my arms. "Do you know where your parents are buried?" "No, I never went there before. But I am sure they are buried somewhere under the ground..." "OK, let's have a look in the telephone book. I hope we can find an address." We found the address, at the borderline of our small town, next to a church. I looked on a map where the church was, and made a few notations. After showering and dressing, we went to our golden van and drove off, with little Harry proudly seated on a pillow in the front seat, craning his neck to look around. "There dad, there is the church! Turn around here, and drive into that small street over there." He was right. Soon we approached a small graveyard, surrounded by old and skewed weeping willows. I had to drive backwards and turn the van around to find a parking place in the neighborhood. We parked the van and started to walk towards the church. Little Harry trustfully put his small hand into mine. Together we walked through the meadows towards the graveyard. We had a feeling that nature itself was respectful here. Even the birds sounded less selfish. The sun shone less intrusively, and even the wind blew softer. The graveyard was secluded by a fence, and the gate seemed to be closed. Little Harry pushed the gate with some force, and fortunately it opened, slowly and with a lot of squeaking. We entered the yard and were both overwhelmed by the absolute quietness of the surroundings. Even little Harry didn't dare to speak aloud. He pulled my arm and whispered: "Where do you think they have buried my parents?" "Well, let's read the text on all the gravestones. Perhaps we can find them that way..." Harry nodded and we started to read the text on the first row of stones. Soon we were totally absorbed by the diversity of people who were buried here. Young, old, babies, really old, and every age in between. We went to the second row of stones, and to the third row... We looked everywhere, and searched every stone for a sign of little Harry's parents, but in vain. We couldn't find any indication of two buried gypsy people. Perhaps Harry's parents were buried in one of those seemingly empty graves without a stone at the end of the yard? After nearly two hours of searching and looking around, we gave up. Unhappily we sat down, together, on a big marble stone, with our heads in our hands. Suddenly I got an idea. "You know son, perhaps we could adopt one of those graves, and pretend your parents are buried there." Little Harry slowly nodded. "I rather would adopt one of those big trees over there, and pretend my parents are buried under the roots." "I think that's a wonderful idea son! And I'm sure your parents wouldn't mind at all..." We went to a couple of majestic oak trees, and little Harry seemed to be drawn to one of them. He sat down, with his back against the tree, his feet touching one of the graves, and beckoned me to join him. Hesitantly I sat next to him, with my back also against that old oak tree. I really could feel that tree comforting us and giving us its strength! After a while a man slowly approached us and nodded. "Morning gentlemen, I am the sacristan of our small church over there. It's a wonderful day today, isn't it?" "Yes sir, it's really a wonderful day. But perhaps you could help us? We are looking for the parents of little Harry over here. They both perished in a fire, two years ago. Perhaps you could help us to find out where their grave is?" The man smiled at little Harry and slowly nodded. "I saw you looking at all the stones, so I supposed you couldn't find someone. Please follow me to the church. There we will have to search the register, and I am sure we will find your parents there." We followed him to the church, where he unlocked an old door. He guided us to a small room, filled with ancient looking books. He took a book from a shelf and beckoned us. "Do you know the exact date when your parents were buried, my little friend?" "No sir, I only know the date when they deceased in the fire." "Ok, let's have a look from that date on... what's the name of your parents?" "Romany, but I don't think the authorities knew their names at that moment." "Well, let's both have a look at the register. Perhaps you could find them yourself." They started to look in the register and slowly followed all names. Suddenly little Harry jumped up. "There they are! A man and a woman, of unknown age and of unknown origin, burnt together in a fire. I've found them dad!" He threw himself at me and started to cry. I sat down on a wooden bench and took him onto my lap. For a while I caressed him until his sobs lessened and he pulled himself together. "May we have a look at their grave now?" The man nodded, and led us back to the graveyard. He stopped at a grave without a stone, next to little Harry's big oak tree. "Do you realize when you sat here with your back against that oak, your feet were touching the grave of your parents? What a coincidence..." The man retreated respectfully, and little Harry sat down in the same position as before, with his back against the oak tree and his feet touching the grave. "I am sure my parents showed me the way dad! They guided me to this tree, next to where they are buried. I am so happy..." I heard him talk to his parents in a soft voice. Suddenly I heard a female voice somewhere in my head, thanking me for all the good things I did for her little boy. "My parents wish to thank you for all the good things you do for me dad. They both love you very much." I bowed my head and started to cry, joining little Harry. Sobbing, we comforted each other for quite a while. Suddenly we both felt that everything was all right now. We looked at each other without words, and left the tree together. Little Harry took my hand, and we walked back to the gate. "I want to put a gravestone on their grave, dad, so that I always can find them in the future." "I think that's a wonderful idea son. Let's ask the sacristan where we can get a stone." We returned to the church, and the sacristan showed us where we could order gravestones. We went to our van, and drove to the shop. Little Harry went straight to a beautiful brownish marble stone. "This one dad! I want this one on their grave." A man approached us, and we ordered the stone, with a nice text and their names chiseled into it. I was shocked by the price of the stone, but decided not to deliberate. My boy's happiness was worth a multiplicity of that sum! The stone would be delivered within two weeks. With happy feelings in our heart we went back to our van. It really was a wonderful day! Little Harry was quiet on the way home, seemingly deep in thought. He had a frown on his forehead, and even didn't bother to switch the radio on. Obviously he was brooding about something, and I decided to give him all the space he needed. Soon we were home. I parked the van in the driveway in its usual place, opened the front door, and little Harry went straight to the living room. There he slumped down on the couch, impatiently waiting for me. The moment I sat down, he climbed onto my lap, with a deep sigh. "Why dad? Why did they kill them?" I shuddered. This was the question I dreaded most, since the moment we went to the graveyard. "I don't know son. I really don't know. I wish I had the answer..." Little Harry looked into my eyes, and I could feel his love. "Fortunately I have you..." The doorbell rang, and little Harry went to the door. He returned with John, who looked rejected. "Where were you all morning? Davey was here, and Nicky asked for you, and the neighbor girls wanted to use the swimming pool..." Little Harry threw his arms around John. "Dad and I went to the graveyard where my parents are buried, but we couldn't find their grave. We looked at all stones, and at last we sat down with our backs against an old tree. Then the sacristan of the church approached us. We looked in a big book, and suddenly I found them myself. They were buried next to the tree where we sat down, and I sat with my feet on their grave! After a while we went to a shop and ordered a beautiful brown marble gravestone for my parents, with their names engraved on it. I could feel them around, and they talked to me. They comforted me, and they thanked dad for all the good things he is doing for me." "Wow, that was quite an adventure! But next time I want to go with you..." Suddenly John looked at me. "Why dad? Why did they kill Harry's parents?" Little Harry frowned and looked into space. "I think we are born under a curse. They always hate gypsies. Perhaps because they don't understand us, or they think we are different. They are afraid of the unknown, just like with a snake or with a spider. They don't need to know whether he is poisonous or not, they just kill him..." He shuddered and leaned into me, seeking for protection. "I don't want to be killed because I'm a gypsy... Sometimes I am afraid to go back to my people, with all those police raids and all that hatred around. I want to live in peace. Why can't they leave us alone?" This was the big question. Why can't people leave other people alone... Harry AnderS, alternative writer. Thank you for reading my stories, and thanks to Nifty for hosting them. I would like you to proofread my chapters and comment on them. The latest version of the edited story will be available on: http://www.harryanders.com both in microsoft-word and in html. Please join our own forum by visiting my homepage. Please send your remarks to harry@harryanders.com Please help me improve the story and visit my homepage. I could use more editors and proofreaders...