Date: Thu, 8 Sep 2005 18:19:43 +0200 From: Harry Anders Subject: Little Harry-17 Chapter 17. Love is the strongest force in the universe. Two weeks later little Harry was completely healed, with a soft and shiny skin on his face and body. His bruises were gone, his nose had normal proportions, and we threw the rest of his pills away. He was less tired and didn't have to rest any more. His green head with the mask was moved to his desk in his own room, where it stared at you when you entered the room. Now he played outside every day; and he made a couple of new friends. Nicky and he were together most of the time; some people even thought they were brothers. One day they stormed into the house, both panting. "Pop, Harry and I have been fighting!" With pride they showed me a couple of bruises, and little Harry's lower lip started to bleed. I asked them what happened, cleaning little Harry's lip with a tissue. One of their new friends told them: "Fortunately that creep seems to have disappeared from our neighborhood." Little Harry asked him, with a sly smile: "What creep do you mean?" "You never saw him? On his second hand skateboard... A fool with two holes in his face where normal people have their nose, his lips always curled up when he laughed, and he had more colors on his face than that traveling circus clown used to show. His father should have drowned him when he was a baby..." At that moment Nicky kicked the boy with all his force, while little Harry threw all his anger into a punch that sent the boy across the street, screaming. They left him without looking back and immediately came to me. "You should have seen him, dad! He was at least three years older, but he couldn't defend himself!" "Next time I will bring a baseball bat with me, and the moment he insults my friend again, I will send him to the hospital!" The doorbell rang, and I went to the door. A very angry woman glared at me, ready to attack. "Your boys pummeled my poor little baby!" I extended my hand. "Please come in, and have a drink. How old is your poor little baby?" "He's only eleven years old, nearly twelve. And I want you to punish the boys who attacked him this morning!" I turned around. "Harry, Nicky, come here please..." Two small boys timidly shuffled to the door, looking at their feet. I beckoned them over and they appeared in the doorway. Little Harry sniffled and put a tissue to his lower lip. "There are your boys. They are only eight years old, and they told me another boy started to offend them." The woman stared at them, with disbelief in her eyes. "YOU attacked my boy?" "He insulted my friend, and called him a creep who should have been drowned when he was a baby. Next time I will bring a baseball bat with me!" Nicky's eyes shot daggers and he balled his fists, ready to defend his friend with his life. The woman shook her head and retreated. "Boys... they're always up to some trouble..." We went inside, and I closed the door. I went to the couch in the living room, and beckoned them over. "Now you see what hatred can do. It starts with an insult, then you use violence, and a moment later we have a small war." "But POP, he said Harry should have been drowned when he was a baby..." "That boy used only WORDS, and words can't do any harm. Words are just a vibration in the air. It's not the words that do the harm, it's the following violence!" They had to think that over for a while and went to the computer, where they wriggled into the same chair. "Are you mad at us, dad?" "No, I'm not mad at you. Just a bit disappointed. You could have used a better solution... Think about that the next time, will you?" They promised me to better their lives and started a racing game on the computer, until Nicky had to go home. That evening little Harry was a bit silent. He didn't eat much, stared at his plate and pricked into a potato. After a few bites he shoved his plate away. "I'm not hungry dad, am I excused?" He went into the living room and laid down on the couch, where he fell asleep. I cleared the kitchen table and took a cup of coffee with me. John and Davey came by and we talked a bit. They had talked with each other, and decided to attend a technical college. John wanted to be a technical engineer, while Davey was more interested in mathematics. They asked me to help them choose a college when the time was right. Relieved, they went home after a while. Little Harry was restless and moaned in his sleep. I put him under a blanket and felt his forehead. He seemed to be a bit feverish, but not too much to be worried about. He woke up a few times and asked for a glass of water. Yawning he took a swig, turned around and fell asleep again. I went to my computer and wrote a part of the next chapter of my story 'Little Harry'. At ten o'clock I called it a day and took Little Harry upstairs, still sleeping. I washed him and put him under the blankets, where he opened his eyes and shivered. "Where am I?" "What's the matter with you, my little friend?" "I don't know... I've a headache and my stomach hurts a bit. And I feel sleepy." He crawled into my arms and fell asleep again. This time he felt more feverish, and I thought perhaps he could have gotten the flu. After a while I fell asleep. In the middle of the night I woke up to the sound of a softly moaning little Harry. He was soaking wet and felt hot. I clicked the lights on, and he looked at me with watery reddish eyes. "Can't you chase that man away? I can't sleep while he's pestering me..." I got dry sheets from the hallway cabinet and made him a drink with a dissolved aspirin. Shivering, he drank it with a sour face. "That tastes awful!" I washed him and dried him. Again he crawled into my arms, but this time shivering and moaning. "I don't feel too well..." He became more and more restless; and after an hour I decided to call our family doctor. The doctor knew everything about little Harry's recent surgery, and decided to look at our little friend as soon as possible. Within twenty minutes he entered the house and immediately went upstairs. He examined little Harry thoroughly, looked in his throat, listened to his lungs, took his temperature, and felt his lymph glands. "I can't find anything alarming for the moment. Just keep him warm and let him drink lots of water. I'll leave a prescription for something that will suppress his fever." I thanked the doctor, and he went back home to resume his sleep. I tried to let little Harry drink a glass of water, and with some difficulty he managed to drink half of it. Again we tried to get some sleep, but every ten minutes he woke up and started to moan, telling me a man was annoying him. The rest of the night was a nightmare. Little Harry kept on moaning and thrashing around, looking into space with watery eyes and talking about that man. In the morning he eventually fell into a restless sleep, dead tired and sweating heavily. The doorbell woke me up, and little Harry started to thrash around, again soaking wet. I dressed and went downstairs to let bright and shining Nicky in. "Where's Harry? I want to shower together..." "Harry's ill. He has a fever and he's still in bed." "May I see him?" "Yes, but don't wake him up while he's asleep!" Nicky went upstairs, and I brewed a cup of coffee. Soon he came back with a worried face. "Harry's really ill! Did you call the doctor?" "Yes, I called him in the middle of the night. He left a prescription to suppress the fever. Could you attend your friend, while I go to the pharmacy?" "Yes, of course. You can count on me!" He climbed the stairs with a proud face, clearly very aware of his responsibility. I drove our golden van to the pharmacy, where they handed me a box of pills. I paid with my credit card, returned, and parked the van in the driveway. I opened the front door, and Nicky stormed downstairs, panting. "Harry has vomited, and he stinks!" I hurried upstairs and found my little soul mate, crying, the bed stained with vomit, and the air soiled with a nasty smell. I ordered Nicky to open a window, while I tried to clean little Harry. Everything was dirty, he had vomited and pooped the bed. I sent Nicky downstairs to get more tissues to clean him up with before I took him to the shower. Carefully I took my stinking little boy in my arms while Nicky adjusted the water temperature. Together we washed him. Nicky helped me to change the sheets, both holding our breaths until we had put the stained sheets in the washing machine and turned it on. I got clean sheets from the hallway cabinet, and together we put our little friend to bed. He was very pale now, shivering and moaning, again talking about a man who was bothering him. I decided to call our doctor to have a look at him for the second time. "Nicky, do you know about a man who was bothering Harry, perhaps yesterday?" "No, we only met a couple of children. But when Jason had the flu, he was talking nonsense too. My dad called it 'delirium'." The doorbell rang. Nicky hurried downstairs and opened the front door. He guided the doctor upstairs, and I told our doctor everything about our restless night. "I suppose he's gotten a nasty virus. But his temperature is too high... Did he complain about pain in his body somewhere?" "No, only about a headache and pain in his stomach." Again the doctor looked him all over, even more thoroughly than last night. "May I use your telephone? I want to call the clinic to ask their advice..." Nicky guided the doctor downstairs, while I tried to reassure my sobbing little soul mate. After a while the doctor returned, followed by Nicky. "The surgeon wants to speak with you." I went downstairs and greeted our 'face doctor'. He started to ask questions. "Did our little friend complain about severe fatigue?" "Only the first days. He always played outdoors with a couple of friends and never complained." "That's a good sign. Did you see something abnormal, like blue spots or bruises, on his body?" "No, he has a smooth skin all over his body, that healed wonderfully." "That's good. Had he places on his body that were itchy, or sensitive?" "Only the first days. After that I never heard him complain. He even threw his pills away." "Wonderful. Your house doctor examined him thoroughly, and he couldn't find anything suspect either. Of course there's always a small chance that his body will reject the transplants. That's why we will send a nurse today, who will take a few blood, skin, and urine samples, just to be sure. I instructed your doctor to administer a sedative, so he will sleep for a while. Could you put a diaper on him? It's possible he will soil the blankets again." "I will buy him some pampers. Is there anything else I could do?" "Don't let him eat, but he should drink as much as possible. And please keep me informed!" "Thank you for your advice! And yes, I will certainly keep you informed." I returned to my bedroom, where my doctor had put little Harry asleep with an injection. "Nicky, will you buy a packet of big pampers, to protect our friend from soiling the bed again?" I handed him some money, and he hurried to the shop, skipping. The doctor left us, promising to be back the next day. I sat down, looking at my little soul mate with his pale face and his swollen eyelids, now softly snoring. What was the trouble with him? And who was that 'man' that bothered him so much? I drifted off. I felt Jack, standing there in a bright white light, and I heard his voice in my head: "He's a fighter, he will come through. We will protect him..." In a shock I woke up. Protect him? From what? And why did my little soul mate have to fight, and whom? Perhaps that man he was complaining about? The doorbell rang, and I let Nicky in, proudly carrying a big packet of pampers. We went upstairs and carefully put pampers on our softly snoring friend. "We always teased him about buying him some pampers, pop. And now we really had to buy pampers..." I smiled and ruffled his hair. I felt more and more attached to this helpful little boy with his open face and intelligent greenish eyes. Together we went to the living room, leaving all doors open so we could hear our poor little friend, in case he woke up. "Thank you Nicker, for helping me with all those things. You are a wonderful help today!" "That's okay pop, Harry is my friend and of course I will help him and you. So far Jason was the only one who sometimes called me 'nicker' or 'little dragon', because of my green eyes. He was the 'chasing dragon' and I was the 'nickering dragon'. Carl was the 'curling dragon'. Until my father kicked Carl out of the house and Jason became a bullying dragon..." Davey came by, curious about little Harry. I told him what happened, and he went upstairs, slowly and carefully not to wake our ill friend. After a while he returned. "There's something strange around Harry, dad. I'm not sure, but I can feel a nasty person around him, trying to harm him. Perhaps I'm making it up, but it's as if I can see him. He looks like a heavy built and strong man with a shaggy beard, and he has a mean look in his eyes. I think he's making Harry very ill." Nicky looked up. "Harry was talking about a man who was annoying him. He asked me to chase him away, but I didn't know what he was talking about..." I was totally aghast. So it was true... little Harry saw him, Davey felt him, and Jack promised to protect little Harry... I grew angry. That shaggy bearded man had to keep his hands off my little soul mate! I ascended the stairs, determined to know what was happening, closely followed by two worried boys. We entered my bedroom, where little Harry softly snored. He looked a little bit better, with less swollen eyelids and slightly more color on his face. I sat down on a corner of the bed and tried to feel around. Where was that man? In my mind I dared him to show up. Nothing happened. After a while I felt disappointed. I could have murdered him! Murder a ghost? "Davey, can you still feel that man around?" "No dad, I think he's gone. Who was it? Do you know him? Can't you tell him to leave Harry alone?" Suddenly I heard a nasty and grating voice in my head: "Once you got my boy, and now I will get YOUR son! Eye for eye, tooth for tooth..." Everything went black and I fell off the bed, bruising my hip and shivering all over my body. I was vaguely aware of being a nasty man myself, stealing children. A man begged me to give him his little boy back, but I just laughed and drove off, leaving him on the streets with a bruised hip... Slowly I returned and squinted at two very worried boys, desperately trying to wake me up. "Pop, what happened? Did that man attack you? Please, don't die..." I tried to get up and groaned, feeling a lot of pain in my hip. Carefully I lifted myself onto the bed, helped by the boys. "Thank you boys, just give me a minute. I think I've injured my hip, and I feel a bit giddy." Nicky brought me a glass of water, while Davey supported me, obviously afraid I would fall off the bed again. "All of a sudden the room went icy cold dad. Then you fell off the bed and your eyes turned around in your head." I looked at the boys, still trembling; and at little Harry, still softly snoring. Was this all for REAL? I could hardly have made this up myself... Still trembling, I limped down to phone Christian, our psychic medium. I looked in all drawers and all cupboards, and eventually I found his business card with his phone number. Perhaps he would know what I should do now? But nobody answered... I slumped down on the couch, with my head in my hands. Was it really MY fault little Harry was ill? Was this what some people call 'Karma', meaning you have to make up for what you did in your past lives? Where was Jack? I tried to call him in my head, but nobody answered. Slowly I panicked. What if that man really took little Harry away from me, just as I once took his little boy away from him... The doorbell rang, and the boys went to the door. They returned with a nurse, carrying a suitcase. "I would like to take a few blood and urine samples from your little boy." We went upstairs and the nurse prepared for the blood samples. "Please could you try to wake the boy, and have him urinate in this bottle?" I removed little Harry's pampers and tried to wake him up. After a few efforts he opened his eyes and yawned. "What's the time?" "I want you to piss in this bottle, to help the friendly nurse over there." Little Harry squinted at her, and she laughed at him. He covered his manhood with his hands. "I don't want her to look..." She winked at him and left the room. Little Harry nearly fell asleep again, but fortunately he managed to produce a few drops. "I'm too sleepy..." He fell down onto the bed and was sound asleep. I attached his pampers and covered him with the blankets. The nurse laughed again and freed his arm. She attached a string to his upper arm and put a needle into a vein, causing a slight wince from little Harry, but he didn't wake up. She drew three small samples of blood and attached a band-aid to the small wound. Then she took a small machine from her suitcase and put it onto his back. She pushed a button. "OUCH!" little Harry shouted and he jumped up. But the nurse had her skin sample. She asked him to forgive her and attached a second band-aid to the new wound, while little Harry fell asleep again. I offered the nurse a cup of coffee in the kitchen, while the boys took a glass of cola. She told me the laboratory had already found a place to test the samples the moment they arrived. After a few minutes she took her suitcase and the samples with her, while the boys accompanied her to the door. She waved at them and drove off. "That was a nasty vampire machine, dad! It snapped a piece of skin out of Harry's back, just like that..." The doorbell rang and John arrived. He hugged first me, and then Davey and Nicky. "How's Harry? Is he feeling better now?" We informed him about all the events, and he went upstairs to have a look at his little brother and to feel that nasty man that bothered him. In a moment he was back. "Harry is asleep, and I didn't feel anything. Perhaps you made it up in your mind?" Davey and I reassured him that something really unexplainable had happened. I showed him my painful hip. "That's a nasty bruise! Well... I suppose you were right. But I didn't feel anything unusual around Harry. Do you have something to eat, dad? I'm starved..." We prepared healthy sandwiches, with lots of salad and other vegetables. After a while John and Davey went away, promising to be back before dinner. Nicky and I went upstairs to have another look at little Harry. He seemed to recover and had slightly more color on his face. I kissed his forehead, and Nicky tenderly hugged him. We went back to the couch. Nicky crawled onto my lap. "I love you pop. Now I have two dads, one dad at home and one dad here. My own dad is much nicer now, he even calls me 'Nicker', which he never did before. I'm allowed to sleep in his bed now, and we cuddle a lot, just like with you. I think I'm a very lucky boy." "I think I'm a very lucky man, to have you as a friend. You're a wonderful boy, always helpful, and with a lot of love in your heart." The phone rang, and Nicky hopped off my lap. I took the receiver. "Harry Anders speaking..." "We examined the samples the nurse took from your boy this morning, and all seems to be well. There are no signs of skin rejection or inflammation. We couldn't detect any viruses, but his lymphocytes count was a bit high. There could have been a bacterial infection, so we asked your family doctor to have a close look at him for a couple of days." "Thank you very much! That's quite a relief. Is there something else I could do?" "Just let him drink as much water as possible, and let him eat easily digestible nutrition for a few days. That's all." Nicky and I both heard a faint "Dad..." sounding from the stairway and hurried upstairs. Little Harry sat upright in bed, with a remorseful sleepy face, "I think I pooped the bed..." I threw the blankets off, and little Harry looked at his pampers with disbelief. "I'm wearing PAMPERS?" "Sorry son, but you were very ill. You threw up and soiled the sheets, so we provided you with pampers to be prepared for the next time, that seems to be now." "I don't remember... but I feel very sleepy and hungry. Could I please have something to eat?" "Nicky, could you fetch some porridge for your friend? Oatmeal's in the kitchen cabinets and milk's in the fridge." Looking proud, Nicky went downstairs. I cleaned little Harry, threw his pampers away, and washed him all over. He clamped his arms around my chest and shivered. "I'm very tired dad, and I feel like trembling all over. Am I still ill?" "Perhaps a little bit, yes. Take it easy for a few days, and allow your body to strengthen. You will soon feel better." I changed the sheets and put my precious son under the blankets, where he laid down with perspiration on his forehead. "I'm thirsty..." I brought him a glass of water and he gulped it down, eagerly and coughing. "Another glass please..." Nicky returned with a tray and put it down on the bed. "I hope there are no chunks in it, and do you want butter and sugar?" "Yes please, melted butter and lots of sugar!" I was relieved to see little Harry wolfing his porridge. This certainly was a good sign. "Thanks Nick and dad. Now I want to sleep, for I'm feeling very tired..." I placed the platter back onto the tray. Little Harry turned around and almost immediately fell asleep. Softly, we descended the stairs and went to the kitchen, where I cleaned the platter and Nicky put the rest of the oatmeal and the milk away. He jumped onto my neck and offered me a wet kiss. "I'm glad Harry feels better, pop! I was worried..." I held him for a while, and marveled in the feeling of being befriended with, and by, such a wonderful and helpful child. The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully. Nicky played a few games with little Harry, who soon was too tired and had to rest for another while. I sat at my computer and worked on my story 'Little Harry'. Nicky had dinner with us and left at eight o'clock to do some chores at home. He promised to be back the next day. At ten-thirty I called it a day and went to bed, where my little friend already softly snored. He shifted into my arms without waking up, and after a while I fell asleep. At eleven-thirty I woke up at the sounds of a moaning little Harry, thrashing around and fighting. "Noooo, go away! Leave me alone! I'm not going with you. I want to be here. DAD..." I clicked the lights on and looked at my little soul mate, who was soaking wet again and stared into space with bulging eyes. "Dad, please chase that man away. He wants to take me with him, but I want to be with you..." Again I heard that nasty and grating voice in my head: "I will never let him go. He's MINE now..." I cursed and took little Harry with me downstairs, carefully wrapped in a blanket. I sat him on my lap and took the phone to call Christian. Within twenty seconds I heard his voice. "Hello? Christian speaking. Who's there?" Never in my life had I been so grateful. I told him everything, and he listened without interrupting. When I was done, he said only one thing: "I'm on my way." Carefully, I put little Harry down onto a chair, and went to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee for Christian and me. Ten minutes later the doorbell rang. A sleepy-looking Christian entered the house and went straight to the living room, where he took a chair next to little Harry. "Hello my precious friend, please tell me exactly what's the matter." "There's a man that's bothering me all the time. He wants me to go with him, but I want to be here with my dad. Now he's threatening me to make me more ill..." "OK, put your hands into mine. And you, sir, will you stand behind your son, with both hands on his shoulders?" I did as he asked. Suddenly I felt a cold draught around us, trying to pull me out of my body. I shivered and started to be afraid. "Don't be afraid, just love your little boy; and also send all the love you can muster to that poor man who is so astray in his own anger..." I tried to send that man my love; and at the same moment I felt Jack. He laid his hands on my shoulders, and I felt a hot stream of power surge through my arms to my little soul mate, and through him to a man I could clearly see now. Big, with a shaggy beard, looking surprised. He broke down and started to sob. Jack went to him and took him into his arms. Together they went to a bright white light. The vision vanished and the room slowly got warmer. Now everything felt at peace and in harmony. Christian smiled at me. "That's the power of love. You had to learn to love everybody, even your worst enemy. Now I could use a cup of strong coffee before I go home." He took little Harry onto his lap while I went to the kitchen to get the coffee and a glass of cold water for my boy. When I returned Christian spoke softly to little Harry. "That man is taken to the Light, where he will learn to love and be in peace. He will never again bother you. Next time you know what to do yourself. Never fight an attacker, just send him or her your love, that's all you have to do. Love is the strongest force in the universe. Always remember that! Nobody can harm you when you ARE love." We drank our coffee, and Christian went home. I switched the TV on, to break the tension for a moment, before we went to bed. Little Harry searched the channels, and suddenly there was a gypsy boy who sang a sad song about his own people. The boy sang his heart out, supported by an orchestra of pleading violins. Little Harry's hand wormed into mine, and in awe we listened to the heartbreaking music. Until a commercial block popped up, loudly praising something nobody really needed, with a feigning happy voice. It felt like cursing. Little Harry promptly switched the TV off, furtively wiping his eyes. After a moment I took my boy with me upstairs, and we went to bed. He curled up in my arms and yawned. "I love you dad! Now even you never can harm me." I got tears in my eyes, and nearly crushed him... Harry AnderS, alternative writer. Thank you for reading my stories, and thanks to Nifty for hosting them. I would like you to proofread my new chapters and comment on them. The latest version of the edited and new chapters is available on: http://www.harryanders.com (both in microsoft-word and in html) Please send your remarks to harry@harryanders.com Please help me improve the story. I could use more editors and proofreaders...