Date: Tue, 6 Dec 2005 19:56:49 +0100 From: Harry Anders Subject: Little-Harrys-Life-1 Greetings to you, my dear friends. Today I would like to present the first chapter of my new book, that's called 'Little Harry's Life'. This is the sequel from my first book, called 'Little Harry', and I strongly commend you to read book one first! Thus you will enjoy book two even more. You may find book one on Nifty, or you may visit my site http://www.harryanders.com and read the elaborated book from there (recommended!). This book two is telling you the story of the same little gypsy boy, but this time seen through his own eyes. You will surely recognize many events from book one, but now they are told to you by little Harry himself, letting you see how HE experienced his own life. Please provide me again with as many comments and remarks as possible, as I'm still proofreading the chapter and making changes in the storyline. Here comes book two. Enjoy! --------------------------------------- 'Little Harry's Life' >by Harry AnderS, the author of 'Little Harry'< Chapter 1. Those first years of the rest of my life. I was floating around lazily, submerged in seawater of a nice temperature, in a cosy place that totally embraced me, with murmuring sounds in the background and a reassuring rhythmical 'bump, bump, bump' sounding around everywhere. Here I felt absolutely safe and welcomed. I could vaguely remember being here because something was going to happen soon, but my brain was already taking over and wiping out all the memories of my soul. Within a few days I would be totally blank, and ready to learn how to behave as a human being again. Nine months ago I had been aware of everything that happened to me. I remembered several of my past lives; especially my last life, where an enormous grizzly bear attacked me and tore me to pieces. My father desperately tried to rescue me with only a small knife in his hands, but the bear killed him too. Our best friend, who lived a few miles away, was devastated; and he killed that bear with his bare hands. But the bear had wounded him too, and a few months later he also died and joined us in 'heaven'. Now all of us were back on earth, and we would meet again. Slowly my memories faded away. The last thing I remembered was that I had to fulfil a task on earth, but first I had to make up for the things I did in my past lives. In the middle ages I had been the leader of a witch hunt, and had sent many witches to a stake to be burnt. Now I had to know how the burning feels; not as a punishment, but to be able to better myself and develop more compassion for my victims. They call it 'the law of Karma' or 'eye for eye, tooth for tooth'. The two people who then assisted me, were in this life brought together to give me birth. I felt the pressure increase, and vaguely heard some screaming around. I couldn't understand the words, but knew what they were saying: "Be prepared, labour has set in! Be quick, and ask for the wise woman to assist us." Again the pressure increased, and I heard somebody groaning. Instinctively I tried to help, by turning around until my head was pressed against a narrow tube that slowly widened. The pressure decreased, and I was sucked back into my cosy room, but not for long. Again the pressure increased, and I felt that narrow tube widen up a bit more. The pressure decreased, and fortunately now I could rest for a moment. I had now idea about 'time', but for a long while the pressure came and went; and every time the tube widened a bit more. Suddenly my head was pressed through, and I heard a loudly yelling voice. Hands folded around my head and tried to pull it out. Why are you pulling at my head? Leave me alone, you are hurting me! I tried to fight the hands, but suddenly my shoulders came through and I flopped out of my cosy room. All of a sudden everything was too chilly. Why don't you leave me alone? Get your hands off me! It's too cold here. I want to go back into that nicely warm and cosy room where I came from! I had a strange feeling in what I later on discovered was my chest, and suddenly a high-pitched sound escaped my throat. At first I was shocked, and couldn't believe it was me who did that. I tried it again, and again my throat produced that same sound, now even louder. Wow! Somebody wrapped me into a nicely warmed cloth, and laid me down into the arms of the woman I had been living in for nine months. She started to cry, and I felt a strong feeling of being welcomed and loved. I stopped my sound, and felt around in wonder. A soft thing touched my lips, and instinctively I started to suck on it. After a few seconds the most delicious nourishment I ever could imagine entered my mouth. Yummy! I heard a thing, which I later on discovered was called a 'door', open in a distance, and somebody shouted outside the door: "IT'S A BOY! WE HAVE A NEW HEIR TO THE THRONE." Suddenly all kinds of yelling sounds filled my ears, and made me cry. At the same time they also filled me with pride, because I felt the energy of their joyful words and thus knew what they meant. People were cheering and congratulating each other, because of ME... After a while I fell asleep, lazily sucking on that yummy soft thing that still was in my mouth. I woke up in total darkness, and immediately missed the reassuring cosy room I had been in for nine months. I also missed the calming sound of 'bump, bump, bump', and started to cry. After a while I heard some other sounds, and now the room was faintly illuminated. A face appeared in front of me; and I stopped the crying, trying to focus on that vague and misty thing that moved nearer and made reassuring sounds. Two hands tenderly touched me, and lifted me out of the pillows I had been lying in between. I instinctively knew this had to be 'Mum'. "Hi, my little boy, are you hungry again? Just a moment, because I have to clean you up first..." She washed my bottom, and applied another cloth around it. Then she took me onto her lap, and YES! There was that yummy thing again! I sucked on it with all my force, and soon I was filled to the brim with that delicious nourishment. Suddenly I had to burp and spilled half of it, but who cares. Soon I fell asleep in her arms, and even didn't feel her put me to bed again. When I woke up there was light around, and I stared into a much darker face. I tried to focus my eyes, and much to my delight I succeeded in getting the picture a bit sharper. I didn't know the words for the things I saw, but later on I learned that the dark brush I saw below the 'nose' was called a 'moustache'. The eyes of my 'Mum' were of a bright blue colour, but the eyes I saw now were dark brown, nearly black. The face laughed at me, and two enormous hands lifted me from between the pillows and sat me onto his lap. Now I felt a totally different energy, and instinctively I understood this had to be the 'male' energy, full of power and strength. I was sure this person had to be 'Dad'. "Boy, what eyes do you possess! They are looking straight into my soul. What a power! Do you know you resemble your mother?" I felt him sending his powerful love to me, and I smiled. Suddenly he got tears in his eyes, and nearly crushed me: "My boy has already laughed at me, at our first contact! What a wonderful child..." He started to sob, and I tried to comfort him. That was very frustrating, because my arms and hands absolutely didn't what I intended to do. They just flapped around, and I couldn't find the muscles to control them. I gave up and started to sob along with him. Other people entered what I later on learned was our 'caravan', and enthusiastically greeted me: "Look at those blue eyes! What a power and intelligence! He's already looking at everything that's happening around." The people left our caravan, and my father tenderly removed my cloth. He took me into his arms, and together we left the caravan. I still had some difficulty in focussing my eyes, but I was aware of many, many people gathered around a big campfire. They cheered when they saw me; and my father lifted me high into the air, so that everybody could see his newborn son. Everybody went silent; and my father proudly announced, again lifting me high into the air: "The names of our newly born heir to the throne will be 'Harold Janovski Romani'." Everybody started to cheer again, and now all the fathers threw their own children high into the air, carefully to properly catch them when they came down again. The children immensely enjoyed the fun, shrieking and asking for more. Suddenly I had a feeling of flying, high into the air, above all the others, and I loved it! My father tenderly caught me into his arms when I came down again. He put me onto his shoulders, holding my arms, and carried me around the circle; where everybody bowed and touched my small feet, thus promising me their eternal loyalty. After a while my father handed me to my mother, what made me cry. I wanted to join the fun for a much longer while! My mother tenderly took me into her arms and carried me back to our black-and-golden caravan, where she applied the cloth around my waist and laid me down between the pillows. Within half a minute I was asleep again, dreaming of fulfilling grandiose deeds when I would be grown up. The next few weeks were the most interesting weeks of my whole life. I discovered so many new things! First I learned how to properly focus my eyes, so that I could see everything clearly. Then I discovered the muscles that steered my body. Soon my arms moved on my own command, and I discovered something new: at the end of my arms were very interesting things that could move too! Especially one thing, called a 'thumb', which I could move so that it touched my mouth, and with a little probing even entered it. I started to suck on it; and, even when it didn't resemble the soft and yummy thing that was called my mother's 'breast', it could do as a substitution for a while. At the far end of my body I discovered a pair of things that resembled my arms, and soon I could move my 'legs' too. I even could reach my face with my 'big toe' and suck on it! That made my father bellow with laughter, and I started to cry. "Don't cry, my little Harold. I didn't want to scare you. It was just too funny a sight, and I couldn't help the laughing." I COULD UNDERSTAND HIM! Even when I couldn't speak myself, and be assured I had already tried it many times, I exactly understood what he meant with those strange sounds that escaped his mouth. I just felt their energy, and I knew what they stood for. I abruptly stopped the crying, and stared at him in wonder. I tried to tell him I understood what he told me, but the only things that escaped my mouth were small air bubbles and a lot of salivation. My father tenderly cleaned my small mouth with a napkin, still laughing. I was very frustrated about my inability to properly steer that too small and still immature little body, and started to cry again. Many people visited our caravan, and they all wanted to see me. I LOVED being taken out of my pillows and cuddled on a lap in two warm arms. I always immediately started to smile, what caused them to 'love' me even more. Perhaps I was just a little bit manipulative, though I didn't know that word or what it meant for a long time. From the first day on I discovered the smiling did them 'love' me more than the crying did. Of course I infallibly felt the difference between the kind of 'love' they used, and the REAL love radiating from my parents, my grandmother, and a few others who really cared for me. They made me feel all warm and mushy inside, and with them I felt absolutely safe and cared for. I HATED being belittled or treated as a small child. Didn't they see I was a very old soul, temporarily living in a too small body? They didn't have to use those too childish words, as I could understand them anyway! "Look at that little wiseacre! His eyes are shooting daggers! Why does he look so angry at me? Hey, you little tinywiny, gugugugu..." I knew what I had to do... I started to pee, and pooped my cloth. Within a few moments my mother took over and cleaned me up, and the visitors didn't care about me any more. Manipulative? Hmm... I seemed to be using two different kinds of crying. One kind I seemed to use when I was frustrated about something, or wanted to be taken out of my small bed, or I was just bored. Then my father and mother both smiled, and told each other: "Let him cry for a while. That helps him develop his lungs." The other type of crying I seemed to use when I was hungry, or had pooped my cloth and it started to itch, or I really didn't feel too well. Then immediately my father or my mother were there to look after me, clean me up, or call for the wise woman who could heal me. How did they know? I tried and tried, but couldn't find the difference. Now I was frustrated, and cried because I couldn't use this way to manipulate them... "Listen to our little Harold... he's frustrated about something, and now he's developing his lungs." Grrrrr... Many times the man I liked most of all, besides my own father, entered our caravan. He was a really HUGE man, always wearing some fur coat, both in summer and in winter. He had to bow his head to be able to enter the doorway, and soon his powerful energy filled our caravan and embraced everybody, including me. I stretched my small arms out, and tried to produce some sounds so he would take me into his arms. "Hi Michail, didn't you take your betrothed with you?" Michail laughed, and sat down onto the couch that moaned under his weight. My mother lifted me from my cushions and put me onto Michail's lap, where I tried to melt into him and enjoyed the feelings of his strong arms around me. I loved that man with all my heart, and with REAL love! He softly stroked my face with his enormous hands, and tenderly kissed my nose. His moustache made me sneeze a bit, but I loved it. Sometimes he brought his fiancé with him, and then I had to sit on her lap for a while too. But she didn't radiate that enormous power I so much cherished in my Big Friend. Most of the time I first laughed at her, and then stretched my arms out towards Michail. That always helped. She felt a bit turned down, and put me into Michail's lap with a sour face. Michail didn't disapprove at all... After a couple of weeks my parents dressed me into a nice black-and-golden garment, which at first felt very strange as I wasn't used to wearing clothes. They took me with them to the circle formed around the campfire. I looked my eyes out! Vaguely I remembered the first day of my life, when my father had taken me to that same circle. Now he didn't throw me high into the air, but sat me on his lap, with his arms protectively around me. I loved the feeling, that reminded me of the warm and cosy womb I had lived in for nine months. Many other children sat around the campfire or on the laps of other people. They were all totally nude and sun burnt with a golden tan, while all the grown-ups wore some kind of beautiful clothing. My parents both wore the same nice black-and-golden garment I was wearing. Suddenly I detected Michail, two seats away from me. I started to fidget and tried to catch his attention, but in vain. He was all eyes for his fiancé, who sat next to him and softly talked with him. Perhaps I was a little bit jealous of her, but at that time I even didn't know the word... Two violin players started to play their instruments, a tender melody of sadness and longing. It tore at my heartstrings and I started to cry a bit, but not too much as I didn't want the beautiful sound to stop. My father tenderly caressed my stomach, and slowly the sobbing faded away. My grandmother rose from her seat, and the two violin players let their music fade away and sat down. She looked around the circle, until her eyes rested on me. She smiled at me, and I smiled back at her, causing a lot of people to gasp. "He's already responding to his grandmother! Wow, what a special child that is. Look at those bright eyes!" My grandmother lifted her hands, and everybody went silent: "Today we welcome our little heir to the throne, Harold Janovski Romany, into our company. From now on he will be in the protection of all of us. We will always be there for him, and defend him with our lives if necessary. Our wise woman will now look into his soul, and share her findings." She sat down, and my father lifted me off his lap and put me down onto the lap of our Wise Woman. She looked at me with her piercing eyes, and I started to cry. I didn't want to be left with her! I wanted to sit on my father's lap, safely in his protective arms! The wise woman put one hand against my forehead and another hand against the back of my head, and started to hum. Within a few seconds I felt totally at ease and absolutely safe. I stopped the crying, closed my eyes, and drifted off... My consciousness left my brain and travelled along my timeline, backwards in time. First I felt totally free, as if I were in heaven. Then I entered a life where I was together with the man who then was my strong and powerful father. My mother died in childbirth, and from that time on we were always together. We also had a best friend who lived a few miles away. He always took care of me when my father had to go to town to sell pelts and buy the necessary things, until I was old enough to accompany him. One time I was playing in the woods when suddenly a wounded grizzly bear attacked me, and my father tried to rescue me with only a small knife in his hands. The bear tore me to pieces and I went to heaven, soon accompanied by my father and our best friend. The humming changed, and again I travelled back along my timeline, until I arrived in the same place where I lived now, surrounded by huge mountains and thick forests. I had a little soul mate of my own age, and we were absolutely inseparable. My older brother accompanied us most of the time, and helped us whenever he could. When we grew up, my soul mate became our King, and he got two sons and three daughters. My brother got a son too, and he became the best friend of the youngest son of my soul mate, our King. I wasn't sure whether I had been married myself or not, but I was sure in that life I didn't have any children of my own. That had caused me a lot of pain, as I really liked little children. The humming changed again, this time tuning higher and higher, until it became a high-pitched whistle. I travelled forward along my timeline, faster and faster, until I reached my future. I saw myself grow up, being chased away to a foreign country, and felt a searing pain while my parents disappeared. I met the now grown-up youngest son of my soul mate, who helped me; and the son of my brother, who was committed to me and defended me with his life. The youngest son disappeared; and I met my soul mate, his oldest son, and my brother. I grew up, and felt how my face changed and looked differently. After that everything became a blur, the whistling faded away, and I returned to the present. I was rather confused, and started to cry. My father took me into his arms and reassured me, while all the memories slowly faded away. Within a few minutes I couldn't remember anything of what had happened to me, and started to look around again with curious eyes. The wise woman needed a few minutes to recover, and then she rose from her seat: "Our heir to the throne is one of us. He showed me his past lives, where he was the soul mate of our beloved King. He also showed me part of his future, where he will have a very difficult time. But he will come through, and he will be surrounded by all the people he loves and who all deeply love him. I am sure he is predestined to fulfil grandiose deeds once he is a grown-up and our new King." The violin players took their instruments and started to play a joyful melody full of hope and glory. All the people rose to their feet and started to congratulate my parents, while I slowly drifted off into slumber, now being dead tired of all the strange things that had happened to me... The weeks became months, and suddenly everybody told me I had to be the youngest boy ever that could walk on his own. Now a totally new world opened up. My parents took me outside, where I looked in and under everything and tried all the things out that maybe could move or open; desperately followed by my worried mother who tried to restrain me from putting living ants into my mouth or swaying burning branches from the camp fire. In those first few years of my life I learned and thoroughly tested out everything I needed to live my wonderful life as a little gypsy boy; in a secluded valley surrounded by huge mountains, in a country that's called Rumania. The first thing I learned after walking was talking, and soon I resembled a wandering question mark. The words I loved and used most were 'why' and 'what', followed at a short distance by 'how come'. Many times I drove my parents, and all the others surrounding us, to despair: "Why has my mom blue eyes and light brown hair, and how come all the others do have brown eyes and dark hair?" "That's because your mom comes from a far country in the north. Your father brought her here a few years ago." "What's a 'country'? Why did my father bring her here? How come he isn't living there now, together with her and with me?" They tried to explain there are other places like this, not surrounded by mountains, where other people lived. "When are we going to those other countries? I want to visit them too..." "Perhaps when you are old enough to travel with us..." "Why am I not old enough now? I'm nearly four years old now, and already a big boy!" They just laughed and ruffled my hair, but I was a bit angry. Why did I have to wait for so long? Michail had married his fiancé a year ago, and after a few months she was sure she was pregnant. They decided to wait for another couple of months, until the pregnancy would be clearly visible. Then they would let everybody know, as a surprise. One day they were in our caravan, sitting together; and of course I was wriggling around on Michail's big lap. I had already looked at her belly for a couple of times, and suddenly I blurted: "Why do you have TWO children in your stomach?" She went very pale, and looked at me as if I came from another planet: "How for heaven's sake do YOU know? And why do you think I'm carrying TWO children?" I was shocked by her sudden outburst, and started to cry. I was absolutely sure, I could clearly see them with my inner eye. I saw TWO children, both of them were boys, and now I saw another thing too. A dark cloud surrounded their mother, as if something terribly would happen. I refused to answer her questions and buried my face into Michail's chest, now sobbing loudly. Four months later two small babies were born. They were twins, but didn't resemble each other. Michi was the first born, and he was nearly two inches taller than his smaller brother Movi, who had more and darker hair on his head. They were both healthy and immediately started to cry, but unfortunately their mother was severely bleeding and it wouldn't stop. Hurriedly they transported her to a hospital in town, where she died after a few hours. Fortunately for us she didn't die in our camp, as we would have been forced to leave our secluded place and move on. Our belief forbade us to live in the same place where one of us died. That's why we lived in our caravans, ready to move on immediately if necessary. Michail was inconsolable and cried for many days, until at last I put my small arms around his neck: "You are my second dad, and I don't want to miss you! Now I have two little brothers, and I don't want you to neglect them..." Michail looked at me for a long time, with tears in his eyes. Then he nodded his head, and left our caravan without saying a word. Ten minutes later he was back, carrying two small boys in his arms. From that time on we were always together. Michail looked after me when my parents had to go somewhere, and now he really was a second father to me. I LOVED it. Suddenly I was dry during the night! My parents proudly told me now I really was a big boy, and from now on I was allowed to go where I wanted to go, and accompany the other children where they went. I felt on cloud nine! Many times I had longingly stared at them when they went through the bushes that surrounded our camp, laughing and pushing each other. Later on they returned in a cheerful mood, sometimes carrying a small animal they had caught, or carrying baskets filled with delicious fruits. They divided the fruits among us, and roasted the animal on a long stake in the camp fire, to eat it when it was readied. With a proud face I went outside, to join the other children for the first time. They saw me coming, and started to cheer: "HA-ROLD! HA-ROLD!" I blushed and felt a bit bashful, but also proud of myself, and determined to prove I would be a valuable gain to their group. They took me with them, and safely surrounded by the others I disappeared into the bushes for the first time. Soon we arrived at a beautiful waterfall, displaying wonderful colours in the bright sunlight. I was totally in awe! Never in my life had I seen such beauty. We carefully descended a steep ridge, where the older children helped the younger ones by taking their hands and guiding them. After a lot of climbing we reached the bottom of the waterfall, and tumbled over each other to reach the water. I was severely shocked! That waterfall turned out to be icy cold, and I couldn't breathe any more. Fortunately a few of the older boys helped me overcome my initial fear, and within five minutes I was frolicking along with the others as if this were my daily habit. From that time on I was a real water rat, and wanted to go for a swim when and wherever I had the slightest chance. At the end of the day all the grown-ups showed up, already being in the nude, and started to wash us and each other. Of course I went to Michail, and with a smile from ear to ear he washed me all over with a yellowish soapy substance. Then the grown-ups started to wash each other, and we frolicked and played around for a long time, trying to dunk the grown-ups, who laughed and tried to throw us away as far as they could. For the rest of my life I would never get tired of that water game! That night I slept better than I ever had slept, but the next morning I felt stiff all over. My father laughed and called it 'baby stiffness'. I was mad at him for calling me a 'baby' and started to punch him. He laughed even more, and took me onto his shoulders. Together we went outside, where he took me to a secluded spot where our cars and spare caravans were. He showed me a small and ugly looking caravan, attached to a very old car: "Listen carefully, my son. Whenever I tell you to flee, you have to go straight to this caravan and hide inside. It's very important you always remember that. There are people outside our mountains who hate us gypsies, and sometimes they want to harm us. They especially want to get me, as I am the King; and you, as you are our Prince. Do you understand?" "But why, dad? I don't understand why they hate us?" "I don't understand either, my boy. But the past has taught us to always reckon with the possibility of a witch hunt." "What's a 'witch hunt'? I've never heard of that word before." "A 'witch hunt' is when people do believe we are bad, and they want to punish us by chasing us away, or worse." I promised my dad to always keep this in mind, and enter the caravan immediately when he would tell me to flee, even if I didn't understand why. He let me have a look inside the old caravan, and in awe I looked at all the lockers that were filled to the brim with all sorts of goods we would need if we had to flee to a foreign country for a few months. Both the car and the caravan were maintained very well, and the gas tank was filled to the brim. A special hidden locker held a big sum of money, and also contained a couple of passports and other papers to allow us to cross the borders without too much trouble. We went back to our own black-and-golden caravan, but I thought about what my father told me for a long time. Would those 'people outside' really want to harm us? I could hardly believe it. Why would they want to do that? We weren't 'bad' at all... After a while I went to our gang in the bushes to play and follow tracks, and soon forgot everything else. One morning we didn't have enough food for all of us. We had been crossing the woods for a long time, searching for small animals, fruits, carrots, or nuts, but couldn't find any. Deeply disappointed and nearly crying from hunger, we returned to the campfire; where the grown-ups hung around with empty stomachs and dejected faces. They had been chased away everywhere for many weeks now. They beckoned us over, looking at us with sad eyes: "Tomorrow you will have to neatly dress. Then we will take you to a town where you have to beg for food or money." I was elated! I clearly remembered all the fascinating stories the older children told us about 'gadjo' towns, where the people lived in very big two-story caravans without any wheels on them, and where even the smallest children wore beautiful dresses during the whole day. I was very disappointed when my parents told me I had to stay home... "But I WANT to go with them! I KNOW I can beg even better than them. I'm nearly SIX years old now, and last week I even caught a pig!" Well... of course I didn't catch it alone, but I HAD set the trap, all on my own. I was very good at noiselessly sneaking around and setting traps, and I always was the first one who detected fresh tracks. Even the older boys seemed to rely on my keen abilities, at least sometimes. My parents doubtfully looked at each other and me, and went to my grandmother to get her advice. I crossed my fingers, and hoped... Soon they were back, and my father sat me next to him on the couch: "Look at me, Harry, and carefully listen at what I want to tell you." Now I knew I was allowed, and my heart jumped up in my chest with pride. Every time when my father called me 'Harry' instead of 'Harold', I knew he was very proud of his big little boy. I leaned into him, and he put his big arm around my shoulders: "You know we are always totally honest with you, and we know you are a very clever boy. Now we want you to decide for yourself. Gadjo's are totally different from us in their behaviour, and many times they do stupid things we would never do. They could spit at you for example, or kick you across the street without any reason. They could call you very bad names, especially because you do have blond hair and blue eyes. They will look at you before they see the other children, and offer you their attention first. It's possible you will feel very humiliated. But... being a blond boy with blue eyes also has an advantage. When they are good-hearted, they will give you more foods or money because you do have blue eyes and can look at them with a puppy dog face. Now you will have to decide for yourself. Do you still want to accompany the other children?" Of course I wanted to accompany my friends! But I knew I had to carefully think my decision over first, because that's what all the grown-ups always taught us. Never decide anything without carefully thinking and rethinking, until everything is absolutely clear in your mind. When it wasn't, you had to ask somebody else to help you with the thinking; but only after you had really tried it yourself first. I went outside, and sauntered towards our waterfall. There I sat down, looking at the sparkling water drops that displayed many beautiful colours. Why did I want to accompany my friends to such a hostile environment? Was I really sure I could 'beg'? Or was I just bragging, hoping the grown-ups would see me as a 'big boy' and allow me to accompany the other big boys? Was there something else that maybe I had overlooked? Was it curiosity? That 'killed the cat'... Would those gadjo's try to kill me? I wasn't a cat, but a vulnerable small gypsy boy with way too big a mouth... If I went with the other boys to those gadjo's, I would be the smallest boy and they would have to protect me. Did they WANT to protect me, or maybe I was a nuisance to them and would hinder them in their efforts to beg and gather enough foods... Slowly I stood up and sauntered back to the campfire. "Harold, come and join us. Micha caught a big porcupine in his snare!" They had already skinned the animal and were roasting it on a stake, from time to time putting oil and some herbs on it. I tasted the herbs, and shook my head: "Too many of those yellowish leaves, and you have to add a few of those crispy green needles." "How do you know every time? You will have to be the youngest cook in the world." I felt proud, and went into the woods to get a few needles from that fragrant smelling green bush. When I returned they had already put the other herbs together, and I mingled the needles with the mixture after carefully tasting it first. "That's better. Now smear the porcupine with it, but not too much in one place, and add a few drops of oil first." They did as I told them, and soon we all got a slice of the tasty meat to munch on and still our hunger. "You're right! Never in my life did I taste such delicious meat! We ought to call you 'Prince Cook' from now on." "Thank you, my beloved subjects; but I think 'Prince Harold the Great' will do for now." They started to laugh, and tickled my ribs until I begged for mercy. After we washed our hands and faces and returned to the camp fire, I asked: "Do you WANT me to accompany you to those gadjo's tomorrow?" "Why do you think we should NOT want you to go with us?" "Well, for example, I look different because I inherited my mother's blonde hair and blue eyes. Thus the gadjo's will look at me first, and perhaps they don't like blonde gypsies with blue eyes and chase us away. But there's more. I don't know how to 'beg', as I've never done it before. I think I want to go with you because I'm curious, and that killed the cat... If I accompany you, you will have to protect me, as I'm the smallest boy and surely can't defend myself from the spitting and kicking. The only advantages I have are my puppy dog eyes and my vulnerability..." One of the older boys protectively put his arms around my shoulders: "Wow, little brother, you're using big words! Inherit, accompany, advantage, vulnerability... I'm nearly breaking my tongue over those words myself! I have to agree: you are right. You ARE a small and vulnerable little boy, and we have to protect you. However, now we will defend YOU with our lives; and I am sure when you are grown up you will defend US with YOUR life! Do we have a deal?" I had never seen it that way... Now they would protect ME, and later on I would protect THEM. I nodded, and rushed to my parents to tell them how I had decided to accompany my friends to that big town to 'beg' tomorrow. ------------------------------------------ I would LOVE to get many, many emails! harry@harryanders.com http://www.harryanders.com I wish to thank the Nifty archives for hosting my stories. When you have a few spare dimes, please donate them to Nifty! They are doing a marvelous job.