Date: Sat, 8 Apr 2006 14:16:07 +0200
From: Harry Anders <harry@harryanders.com>
Subject: Little-Harrys-youth-6

MY FIRST BOOK 'LITTLE HARRY' IS FOR SALE...

Please have a look at it and buy it. It costs only $ 19.95, and it's
helping lots of people to cope with their feelings!

Please copy this link into your webbrowser:
   http://www.harryanders.com
and have a look. Thank you very much!

============================

LITTLE HARRY'S YOUTH

The end of chapter 5 said:

One of the other boys protectively put his arms around my shoulders:

"Wow, little man, you're using big words! Inherit, accompany, advantage,
vulnerability... I'm nearly breaking my tongue over those words myself! But
I have to agree: you are right. You ARE a small and vulnerable little runt,
and we will have to protect you. However, this time 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 as their
king I would protect THEM... I nodded, and rushed to my parents to tell
them how I decided to accompany my friends to that gadjo town to help them
with the begging tomorrow.

-----------------

Chapter 6. Begging, our lucky mascot, and again a raid.

I woke up early, and couldn't wait until my parents opened their eyes and
helped me find my clothes. Outside I saw a few early children, but they
looked strange now, being dressed in their 'winter' outfits. Normally we
were always naked. Only the grown-ups used to be dressed most of the time,
mostly from the time they reached puberty and started to look for a wife in
another clan.

I saw Michail leave his caravan, dressed in his inseparable fur coat,
jumped up impatiently, and opened our front door:

"Michail! Please, can you help me to dress? Mom and Dad are still
sleeping..."

"Be patient! Your parents will wake up soon, and I have to look after my
own boys first."

A bit disappointed, I closed the door and went back to the living room.

"Harry, Harry... didn't I teach you always to be patient and wait for your
turn?"

My Dad used my nickname 'Harry', so I knew he wasn't mad at me. I rushed to
the bedroom and jumped onto the bed, throwing my arms around my Dad's neck
almost suffocating him. He grinned, kissed my nose and chin, and started to
tickle me.

My Mom groaned, yawned, and looked at us with sleepy eyes:

"Couldn't you wait for another hour or so? It's still dark outside."

"It's not! Micha and Biny and Jonno are already outside, with their winter
clothes on. And Michail is awake too, but he didn't want to help me."

I jumped off the bed, and impatiently waited for my Mom to get my clothes.

"Be careful not to tear it off..." my Dad told me with a grin, looking
down.

I looked down too, and saw I was frantically plucking at my little pecker
from nervousness.

"Then I will be a princess instead of a prince!" I laughed, and let my now
stiff thingy flop against my belly.

"I look forward to the day you will have a little baby inside", my Mom
laughed.

She left the bed, ruffled my hair, and finally fetched my clothes from a
drawer. I dressed in a hurry, and then I had to redo the buttons and turn
my T-shirt around.

Finally I was dressed neatly, and hurried outside to join the other
children who had gathered around our smouldering campfire, all of them
impatiently fidgeting and looking around.

Michail's enormous truck appeared from the parking lot, pulling a huge
caravan, and causing a loud cheer.  Michail jumped out of his truck, and
started to count the heads:

"Twenty one noses, that's fifteen older ones into the caravan, and the six
younger ones into my truck."

I cheered, as I realized I would be riding in his truck today.

Pietro helped us climb the huge steps and sit in the back seat, crowding
together. The older children entered the caravan, accompanied by another
grown-up, while Pietro took the front seat in our truck.  Michail tooted
the horn, our parents waved at us, and we drove off to the 'gadjo town'
where we would 'beg' to get foods and lots of that valuable paper money.

The back seat was packed, and soon I started to feel very puny. We were the
'smaller ones', but all the other children were at least half a head taller
than I...  Would they allow me to climb into the front of the truck, where
was plenty of space left?

Suddenly I got a brilliant idea, and looked with my best puppy dog eyes:

"Pietro, please, may I sit on your lap, as I'm only a small boy and it's
way too crowded here?"

Pietro turned around, and laughed at seeing my anxious face:

"Can you climb that huge console on your own?"

I didn't know what the 'console' was, but clambered over the huge metal box
where Michail now and then clutched a big pin with a knob.  Halfway across
the box Pietro lifted me and sat me on his lap, folding his arms around
me. I grinned like crazy, and immensely enjoyed the splendid view I had
now.

Michail competently steered the enormous truck and caravan across open
places, past huge trees, along steep ravines, all the time avoiding
potholes and enormous boulders.  I admired him, and decided to be like him
once I grew up and could drive a truck myself.

After a while we left the forest and entered a huge clearing. There an
enormous two-story caravan without any wheels was built against a wall.
Michail stopped, and we all left the truck and the caravan to stretch our
muscles and take a leak.

A woman came out of the enormous caravan, looked at us, and beckoned me:

"I think you are our young prince? Follow me, because I have something for
you to serve out."

I was a bit unsure what to do and looked at Michail, but he winked at me
and started to walk to the strange caravan. The other grown-ups followed
him, and I joined them a bit more hesitantly.

We entered a huge front door, and the woman took us with her to an enormous
room where a man was busy brewing some nicely smelling coffee. The
grown-ups each got a cup of coffee, and I got a big glass of lemonade.

I looked around curiously, at what surely had to be the largest caravan
room in the whole world:

"Michail, how come this caravan hasn't got any wheels under it? How are
they able to pull it away?"

The grown-ups started to laugh, and Michail patiently explained that this
wasn't a caravan, but a 'building'; and it was not intended to ever be
driven away.  This particular building was called a 'hotel', and it
accommodated many rooms where people could spend the night before they went
on. I would soon see many more buildings, called 'houses', where people
lived with their families as we used to live in our caravans. When they
moved to another place, they didn't take their houses with them, but sold
them for money, and bought themselves another house elsewhere.

I thought it to be a very strange way of living, and wasn't sure I wanted
to ever do that myself...

When I had emptied my glass of lemonade, the woman handed me an enormous
basket, filled with shiny red apples. That was a real treat, as we weren't
used to having apples in the mountains.  Pietro helped me carry the heavy
basket, while Michail carried a huge tray filled with plastic cups of
lemonade.

The children outside cheered when they saw us coming, and huddled together
to receive a cup of lemonade and an apple. Soon the tray and the basket
were both emptied, and the children felt less hungry while munching on the
apples.

The woman wished us all the best, and looked at me a bit sadly:

"It's a real shame you have to accompany them to beg..."

I absolutely didn't agree with her, but was sensible enough to keep my
mouth shut and nibble on my tasty apple.

We returned to our truck and caravan, and drove off; on our way to the
gadjo world, where those strange people lived in enormous 'buildings'
without any wheels attached.  What a weird world to live in...

After driving for a while we left the mountains and entered a levelled
landscape, marred by what Michail called 'highways'. Never in my life did I
see so many cars driving at such a high speed. It made me feel a bit dizzy;
and at first I kept my eyes shut, only looking now and then. Slowly I got
used to the constantly passing by of fast cars that seemingly were in a
tremendous hurry.  All the time I sat on Pietro's lap, while he held his
arms protectively around my stomach and his chin tickled the hairs on my
head.

Now Michail slowed the truck down, and turned to the right into a
clearing. He parked the combination, and gathered us around.  He looked
dead serious, as if this was difficult for him:

"You know what you have to do? Always be very polite, but persistent in
telling them you and your family are hungry and don't have any money. Try
to produce some tears; they will help sometimes. Don't enter any houses on
your own, and be very careful not to be trapped or get lost. The oldest
children will choose one of the youngest ones to be with and help them, and
the other children will pair up. Please be back before the sun starts to
descend. Now I wish all of you a lot of luck!"

He hugged us one by one with tears in his eyes, and went to the caravan,
accompanied by the two other grown-ups.

Of course Micha chose me before one of the other youngsters had a chance to
claim him, and together we left the clearing and walked down a small path
through the bushes.  The other children paired up and followed us, until we
all decided to split up and go our own ways. Every pair of children took
another route to the gadjo world that slowly showed up in the distance.

Micha and I entered a suburb, and I didn't know where to look first!  I was
totally overwhelmed by camp after camp, surrounded by enormous two-story
caravans without any wheels to pull them away. Most of them didn't look too
nice, but a few of them even had cultivated gardens.

Men and women in funny clothes walked around or sat in their gardens, while
fully dressed children frolicked around and played a game I recognized:
hide and seek.  I wanted to join them and ask them some questions, but
Micha took my hand and hastened away:

"Don't try to contact them, because they certainly will not accept us!"

Suddenly a few children saw us, huddled together, and pointed at us:

"Look at those strange clothes! DAD, the gypsies are in town again, and now
they even brought their children!"

One of the boys snatched a pebble from the street and threw it at
us. Another boy followed his example, and threw another pebble that hit me
against my leg.  Aha, they wanted a war! That could be fun. I was sure I
could aim a lot better than this!

I tried to pick up the pebble and throw it back, but Micha dragged me away
with a troubled face:

"Don't react, because that will make them even angrier."

"Why are they angry at us? We didn't do anything..."

"I don't know why. I think they just hate gypsies..."

"That's crazy. We don't hate those gadjo's, so why should they hate us?"

We walked on, while the children started to shout and call us
chickens. They didn't follow us, and soon we left the suburb and entered
another part of the city.  I looked in awe at enormous three-story and even
four-story caravans holding many doors, again without any wheels to pull
them.

I gasped, and couldn't understand why they had so many doors:

"Micha, why do those houses have so many doors?"

"Well, in those houses, called 'flats' or 'condominiums', many families are
living on their own, and each family has its own front door."

I looked at a flat for a long time, and started to count, wondering:

"I'm counting forty-eight windows, and only six doors. Why does every
family have eight windows?"

Micha started to laugh, and ruffled my hair:

"When you enter a door, behind it a staircase leads to the other floors. On
every floor a family is living, using only two windows."

I started to count again: twenty-four families living in one enormous
caravan, having four floors and using two windows each... what a crazy
world this was to live in!  Suddenly I was very happy to live in our own
caravan, carrying only one family and having only one floor and one front
door...

We walked on and on, and after a while I was a bit tired and bored:

"Where are we going now, and when do we start the begging?"

"We're going to a big market. Today there will be lots of people with
money, and sometimes one of the booth owners has something to eat."

I didn't know what a 'booth' was, until we reached a huge square filled
with all sorts of little stalls where they sold all sorts of food,
clothing, pretties, knickknacks, and lots of other nice things.  I looked
around with bulging eyes, and felt totally lost in the moving crowd...
Fortunately Micha took my hand and determinedly guided me to a big food
stall, where he stopped.

He pushed me in front of himself, and looked at the stall owner:

"Please, sir, my little brother and I haven't eaten for a couple of days,
and we don't have any money..."

The stall owner looked at me, and started to laugh:

"Well, well, there's a little bastard gypsy... did your mother sell herself
to a blond haired sailor with blue eyes?"

I stared at him in confusion, severely shocked by the roughness I felt in
his words. Slowly my eyes started to tear up, and to my amazement I saw his
face soften.  He even turned his eyes away, as if he was ashamed of
something...

"Nah, sorry, I didn't really mean that. Come on; dry your tears. Today is
your lucky day!"

He started to fill a paper bag with all sorts of fresh and tasty foods, and
handed it to me:

"I hope your brother and you will have a good meal out of it. Now move on,
because you're hindering the other customers."

"Thank you, sir, for your kindness! Now we have finally something to munch
on this evening."

We left the stall, and Micha threw his arms around me and nearly crushed
me:

"Wow, little man; that was amazing! I've made a good choice by choosing you
as my buddy."

"Why? I didn't do anything, and that man was using very mean words..."

"Who cares? Look at what we've gotten in this bag! Let's go on, and please
keep getting tears in your eyes..."

I secretly wiped them away, and followed Micha to another stall. Would the
next stall owner be mean to me too?

Again Micha pushed me in front of himself:

"Please, madam, we haven't eaten for the whole day, and my little brother
is starving."

"Piss off, and don't let me see you here again. Your gypsies have stolen
enough from us. Now move on!"

Micha tried to drag me away, but I was frozen on the spot and looked at
that nasty woman... Why was she so mean to us? What was her problem?  I
stared into her eyes, and saw a lot of grief and anger. She didn't trust
anybody any more, too many people had betrayed her...

Slowly my eyes filled with tears, and I felt my heart open up and send her
my love. I saw her eyes changing, while Micha impatiently pulled at my arms
to let me move on.  She coloured a deep red, and suddenly she took a couple
of paper money flaps out of her pocket and handed them to me with teary
eyes and without saying a word.

I accepted the money gratefully, and handed it to Micha:

"Thank you, madam, you DO have a good heart."

"It's your eyes... they remind me of my own child... you are a good boy."

She turned around, wiping her eyes, and didn't turn back until we had
completely disappeared into the crowd.

Again Micha threw his arms around me and nearly crushed me:

"Look at what that woman gave you! That's quite a lot of money. How did you
do that?"

"I don't know. I looked at her, and felt her grief and anger. That's when I
started to cry..."

"Please keep doing that! Your tears seem to open a goldmine."

Micha put the money away carefully, and we looked at the next stall.
Suddenly a man approached us from behind, and whispered:

"Boys, do you want to earn some money? Please follow me."

I saw a man who beckoned us to follow him, but I didn't trust him at
all. His eyes looked at me as if they saw a prey...

Micha stepped in front of me, and appraisingly looked at the man:

"How much?"

"Twenty..."

"Are you crazy? He's a virgin, and this is his first time. He's very soft
all over, and an absolute joy to play with."

I had no idea what they were talking about, but the man's eyes bulged and
stared at me as if he wanted to eat me alive...  I decided to help Micha a
bit with the begging, and laughed at the man while I tried to show him my
best puppy dog eyes.

The man nearly suffocated, licked his lips, and started to redden all over:

"Fifty?"

"Two hundred; just for feeling him up and nothing more. You will have the
time of your life..."

"One hundred!"

"You are insulting him! Now it's two hundred and fifty, and within a moment
it will cost you three hundred."

The man took his wallet out of his pocket, trembling all over, and handed
Micha a huge pile of banknotes, two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand Lei...

Micha counted them carefully, and put them away in his pockets:

"Okay, and don't forget there are several others around. They will be here
within ten seconds after I've whistled."

The man nodded his head; and beckoned us to follow him, still trembling all
over.

I took Micha's hand and tried to look confidently, but I didn't feel at
ease at all... What was that 'feeling up' they were talking about? And what
did that man PAY Micha for? Was this 'begging' too?  I knew I could trust
Micha, and he would never allow that man to harm me, but where were we
going now?

We followed the man to a restroom, where he opened a nasty stinking stall
and beckoned me to go into it.  I sniffed the air and looked at Micha, now
very unsure... Did that man really want me to enter that stinking stall?
Why should I do that? What did he want me to do there? And would Micha
accompany us?  I hesitated, and could feel the man growing a bit impatient
now.

Again the man pointed to the stall, more forceful this time, but I didn't
want to be there! Couldn't we go home and forget about it? Again I looked
at Micha for help, but Micha grinned confidently. Nothing bad would happen.

Growing more and more impatient, the man finally stepped into the stall
himself, and motioned me over:

"Come on, little gypsy boy, now come in and pull your pants down. I've
already paid for it..."

Suddenly Micha jumped to the stall door, and slammed it shut. He took a
nearby chair, and clamped it beneath the doorknob.  The man started to
curse, and in vain tried to open the door. He kicked the door a few times,
groaned because he injured his feet, and started to beg for mercy...

Micha smiled at me, took my hand, and together we walked out of the
restroom, leaving a nearly crying man...

"Wasn't that easy, little man? Again your blue puppy dog eyes did it!"

"But... I don't understand. Why did that man pay you, and what's that
'feeling up' you were talking about?"

"Well... the gadjo world is full of men who want to abuse innocent little
boys like you. They are even willing to pay for it, as you could
see. 'Feeling up' means that he wanted to feel your little pecker and
balls, and perhaps even play with them for a while."

"But... our grown-ups do that all the time, when I'm sitting on their laps
around the campfire. Do they really pay you for that?"

"Of course not! They don't want to ABUSE you. They are only trying to let
you have a nice feeling. Or don't you like it?"

"I LOVE it, and sometimes I'm taking their hand myself and put it there!
Now I think those gadjo's are REALLY crazy, to pay you for that..."

We sauntered back to Michail's truck, not daring to return to the
market. We couldn't take the risk to meet that angry child abuser again!
Micha and I both laughed all the time, and we started to kick small pebbles
towards each other.

Fortunately the boys who pestered us before seemed to have vanished; and
soon we entered our caravan, where Michail and the other grown-ups drank
their coffee and lazily waited for us.

"You two are back very soon! Didn't you have any luck today?"

Micha grinned, put the filled paper bag onto the table, and emptied his
pockets...  Suddenly Michail put his arms around me protectively, and
looked at Micha with angry eyes:

"That's a lot of money! I sure hope you didn't..."

"Of course I didn't! Do you think I'm crazy?"

Micha proudly told him everything that had happened, and how that child
abuser first yelled at us and then begged for mercy...  Now Micha was the
day's hero, and they all complimented him with his mercantile spirit. He
beamed, and took a snack from the paper bag.

Michail took me onto his lap, and tenderly kissed my nose:

"I KNEW you would be a valuable asset to our group! With all that money we
can buy us wagon loads of foods! Thank you for your help!"

I coloured a deep red, but didn't really understand why he thanked me. I
hadn't done anything special...

One by one the other pairs showed up. Some children carried paper bags
filled with foods, while others had gathered some money. Together we had
gathered enough foods and money to be able to fill our hungry stomachs for
quite some time.

Michail waited until everybody was back; and then we drove off, loudly
cheering, on our way to our secluded camp in the mountains.

We stopped at the hotel, where the owners loved to hear about all our
adventures. They were however a bit worried about my adventure, and warned
Micha to be very careful the next time. He nodded, and promised them never
to provoke such a dangerous thing himself.

We all got another apple to munch on, and a plastic cup of lemonade. After
a while we went on, cheering loudly, while I sat on Pietro's lap again and
looked at the surroundings with my face glued to the front window.

Eventually we were back in our camp, where we were the day's heroes. I was
carried around on lots of shoulders, and Micha had to tell our story over
and over.  Everybody wanted to ruffle our hair or slap our shoulders.

My Dad beamed, and threw his safe arms around me:

"Boy, I'm glad I let you join the others today. You are our lucky mascot!"

I beamed too, but still didn't quite understand what I had done to earn all
those praises...

At the end of the day our other men and women showed up, carrying lots of
nice gadjo clothes and other useful things. They had visited another town,
far away. The clothes and other things were carefully stowed away in one of
our secret places deep in the woods.  They gathered around the campfire,
and told us about a day without troubles.  We told them about our
adventures, and soon all of us were in a joyful mood.

Michail emptied my paper bag onto a platter, and all of us started to munch
on our delicacies until we were filled to the brim. He carefully stowed the
remainder of the food away to serve us during the forthcoming days, neatly
stored in a few dry and cool places around our waterfall.

The two violin players got their instruments, and played beautiful melodies
full of joy and happiness, while everybody started to sing and dance. We
danced until we were too tired to lift our feet from the ground, and
finally went to our caravans to have some sleep.


I woke up in nearly darkness with the sounds of several cars entering our
camp. Doors slammed, and I heard strange voices and a lot of angry yelling
and shouting all over the place. What was happening?

My Dad pulled me out of my bed, and held me close for a moment:

"Be swift, my precious boy. Flee to our hidden caravan as fast as you can,
and wait until one of us shows up!"

He opened a small hatch in the floor of our caravan, and pushed me
through. I landed in the space between our caravan and the ground, and he
closed the hatch over my head. I heard him shift something onto it, but the
sound was nearly drowned out in all that angry yelling.

I felt drowsy from sleepiness, and slowly crawled from under our
caravan. Where was I? I tried to orientate myself in the darkness. Dad told
me to flee to our hidden caravan... but what was the meaning of all that
yelling and crying around our campfire?

I woke up a bit more, shivering in the sudden coldness, and decided to have
a look at what was happening before I went to our hidden caravan. That
couldn't cause much of a problem, or could it?  I crawled back under our
caravan, and looked from there at the spectacle.

Flashlights went on and off everywhere over our place, and a couple of cars
with burning headlights tried to light the environment causing spooky
shadows. A couple of uniformed police officers yelled and shouted, driving
several men to their cars, where they pushed them harshly into the back
seats.  Why did they do that, and where were our men going?

One of the officers stamped to our caravan, opened the door, and yelled
something to my parents. He entered our caravan without wiping his feet,
and returned with my Dad, roughly pushing him forward to one of their
cars. I heard my Mom starting to cry...

Suddenly I became very angry, angrier than I had ever been before. They had
to keep their stinking hands off my Dad! Who did they think they were? My
Dad was our King, and they should pay him their utmost respect!

I crawled from under our caravan; and attacked the uniformed officer,
pummelling him with my fists as hard as I could:

"Keep your stinking hands off my FATHER!"

Another uniformed officer started to laugh, grabbed me, and lifted me high
into the air:

"Look at what I've caught! A little bastard gypsy, as naked as the day he
was born!"

He threw me into one of the waiting cars, where I landed at the feet of a
couple of our own men. The doors slammed shut, the engines came to life,
and we drove off, while I bit my lip and rubbed my jostled
knee. Fortunately the pain subdued after a few seconds.

I rose to my feet; and curiously looked around, feeling safe now I was with
my own people...

The next moment I was slammed down, falling against a knee, slapped in the
face by one of the uniformed officers:

"You sit DOWN, and I'm warning the others not to say a word!"

I felt shocked to the core and severely humiliated, while my face felt hot
where a big swelling formed. Of course I started to sob.  Again the officer
turned around, looking angry:

"Stop crying, or we will kick you out of the car and leave you to the
wolves!"

What was happening to me? Why did they slap me in my face, for the first
time in my life? Why were they so angry? What had I done to deserve their
harsh treatment?  I started to feel very unsure, and panicked. Were those
gadjo officers going to 'feel me up' or 'abuse' me? A feeling of sickness
overwhelmed me, and I puked.

A moment later my people rose from their seats, attacked the officer that
had slapped me, and nearly murdered him, until the other officer drew his
gun and threatened to shoot everybody. That calmed them down a bit, and one
of our men tried to clean my face with his handkerchief. A moment later I
puked again, panicking more and more and crying loudly.

Both officers looked very pale during the remainder of the trip, and didn't
dare to say another word until we entered the police station.

The car doors opened, and the officers drove our men inside the building
and into a room. They took me away from the men and guided me to a
restroom, where they tried to clean my face with a tissue and a bit of cold
water.  One of the officers went away, returned, and handed me a pair of
trousers that were way too big for my immature body. I clambered into them
clumsily and feeling humiliated, and they wrapped the legs up and tried to
fasten the thing with a piece of rope around my too small waist.

I felt ashamed and ridiculous. Why did I to have wear this strange looking
gadjo thing? Was this part of the feeling up and the abusing? What would
they do next?  I started to puke again, for the third time, but this time
nearly nothing came out. I felt really sick, and cried all the time.

The officers went away, and left me alone for quite a while.

Slowly my panic diminished and the sickness faded away. I felt dead tired
from all the emotions, and my stomach rumbled loudly. Finally I went to the
small water tap and gulped a lot of water, using my hands as I always did
under our waterfall. Now I felt a little bit better.

I slumped down onto a small wooden bench, and waited. What were those
officers going to do now? Were they going to abuse me? Was that why I had
to wear that strange trouser thing that slipped down every time I moved
around?  Should I take it off? I was afraid they would be even more angry
at me, and slap my face again, so I decided to do nothing and wait until
somebody showed up.

After a long time another police officer entered the restroom, and smiled
at me:

"Sorry for letting you wait for such a long time. We had to interrogate the
others first. Will you come with me?"

He SOUNDED nice... but what was 'interrogate'? Was that very painful? Had
that to do with the abusing? Was it my turn now to be 'interrogated'? That
word sounded rather creepy... I shivered, and started to panic again.

The officer saw the panic building up in my eyes, and tried to reassure me:

"Don't be afraid. We only want to ask you some questions, and then we will
let you go home. Trust me, nothing will happen to you."

TRUST him? Trust one of the officers that kidnapped my father, and threw me
into a police car in the middle of the night? Was that man crazy?  And
'nothing will happen'? The slapping in my face, throwing me to the wolves,
and all those other humiliations? Were they 'nothing' to him? I certainly
will NOT trust him!

I looked into his eyes, and tried to stare him down with as much disdain as
I could muster.  I WON! He looked away, and the smile left his face. Again
I had stared a police officer down, for the second time in my life...
Suddenly I felt a lot better. I straightened my back, and decided to be
PROUD of myself, as my father always told me. They were stronger than I
was, and a lot bigger than I was, and they could do me a lot of harm, but
they couldn't WIN.

I jumped off the bench and went to the door, determined to be fearless and
let myself be 'felt up', 'abused', and 'interrogated' without crying or
even uttering a sound. The officer followed me like a faithful puppy dog...

We walked through a long corridor, while I tried to keep my 'trousers' onto
my hips by hoisting them all the time. At last we entered a small room,
where a second officer impatiently waited for us. He offered me a cup of
tea, but I refused to cooperate with the enemies.

He looked surprised, and pointed to a chair. I sat down, and tried to look
into his eyes all the time. That seemed to make him nervous, and I laughed
inwardly. I was the stronger one here, and they couldn't win. Come on,
let's get over with it, and start the 'interrogation' and the abuse...

The officer looked at me with a questioning face, and started the
'interrogation':

"Why were you naked last night? Do your parents force you to sleep like
that?"

Suddenly I knew what it was. 'Interrogation' had to be a gadjo word for
'questioning'... I felt relieved, and started to laugh.  What a stupid
question was that! Did you ever hear of a child that slept with his clothes
on, except for small babies that wore a diaper? I looked at him in
disdain. Was that everything he could muster to 'interrogate' me, before he
started the feeling up and the abusing?

The officer looked a bit angry now, and went on with the interrogation:

"Please answer my questions. You have to. When I am satisfied with your
answers, I will let you go home."

What clever man was that! It was up to HIM to be satisfied with my answers,
or not... Whatever answer I would give him, he could always tell me he was
NOT satisfied with it and keep me here. He was obviously planning to keep
me here for quite a while...

I knew I had to answer his questions, so I tried to stare him down again:

"I'm only wearing clothes when it's too cold in the winter, or when we are
going to those stupid gadjo's to beg for food or money."

The other officer started to laugh, and looked at me with more respect:

"Are you only BEGGING for things, or are you taking things from the gadjo's
too?"

Again such a stupid question... Of course 'begging' means: 'taking' gifts
out of the hands of the givers! How else could I get them? Maybe open my
mouth, so they could put their gifts in it?  Was this the interrogation?
Another of those boring questions, and I will start to yawn...

"I'm only taking the things they are giving me. What else do you expect?"

"Did you ever see one of your people taking things away that weren't his or
her own property?"

I looked at him with bored eyes, and pretended to yawn:

"Sir, please, stop this interrogation now, and start with the feeling up
and the abusing. I'm tired, and I want to go home."

I looked at my feet, suddenly feeling a bit afraid, and waited for the
inevitable 'feeling up' and 'abusing'...

The room was dead silent. Nothing happened. In the distance I heard a door
shut with a dull bang. Two men were talking to each other, and I could hear
them until the sound went softer and softer and at last disappeared...
When would they start the abusing? Would it be painful? Would they pay me
for it, like that man paid Micha for me? But that man didn't get his chance
to feel me up or abuse me, fortunately. My friend Micha protected me...  I
hoped they would pay me a lot, to take it with me and hand it to Michail to
buy us more goods. Again I would be the lucky mascot...  I sighed, and felt
myself tremble. When would they finally start?

Nothing happened, and after a while I looked up. Both officers stared at me
with open mouths, and did I really see tears in the eyes of one of them?
That was impossible, of course. What were they waiting for? Let's get over
with it...

The officer with the tears in his eyes coughed, and scraped his throat:

"Boy, please, look at me. Why do you think we would abuse you?"

"Isn't that what gadjo's are doing to little boys? But it will cost you two
hundred and fifty, and that's only for the feeling up..."

Again the room was dead silent, and I went back to looking at my feet. What
were they waiting for?

The officer shuffled his feet, and scraped his throat:

"Oh, my God! Please, little boy, listen to me carefully. We would NEVER
abuse you or 'feel you up'. Do you hear me? NEVER. We are here to protect
you, and to help you grow up in a safe world full of joy. Unfortunately
there are bad men in the world who want to abuse you, but we are here to
PROTECT you against them by putting them in jail for a long time..."

I jumped up, and could feel my eyes starting to shoot daggers:

"I don't believe you! You say you are PROTECTING me? Why were you slapping
my face, and yelling at me in your car? Why did you threaten to throw me to
the wolves? Why do I have to wear this ridiculous and humiliating trouser
thing? Why did you take me away from my parents in the middle of the night?
Why did you let me puke three times? Why did you leave me alone in that
nasty restroom for such a long time?"

I started to cry from built-up frustration; and both officers offered me a
packet of tissues, at the same time, with worried faces.  I pulled myself
together, dried my eyes with one of the tissues, and slumped down onto my
chair.

The officer with the tears in his eyes put his arm around my shoulders:

"Sorry, little boy, we will immediately start an investigation concerning
what you've told us; and it will never again happen..."

Both officers rose from their chairs, guided me back through the long
corridor, and let me enter a huge room.

My people cheered when they saw me, and I rushed to my Dad's lap where I
tried to disappear into him, while he tried to crush me. Again I started to
sob, now with relief. He was still alive, they hadn't done anything nasty
to him...  I laughed and cried at the same time. The other men ruffled my
hair and made fun of my silly 'trousers', but I didn't care...

Both officers disappeared into another room, from where we could hear a
heated discussion. I picked up things like 'what did you do to that little
boy', 'let them go', 'bring them home', 'are you crazy', 'let them fend for
themselves', and finally 'we are not a taxi firm'.  They seemed to decide
on something, discussing their point of view with angry voices.

At last one of the officers appeared in the doorway, and announced:

"This time we will let you go; but be very careful, because the next time
we will put you in jail for a very long time."

He opened the front door, and beckoned us to leave the building. We did, in
a hurry.

We started to walk, far from home, without any means of transportation or
money to pay for it. Fourteen men; and one five-and-a-half-year-old little
boy, all the time trying to hoist his way too big trousers with both
hands...

We walked into the rising sunlight, towards a highway that led to our
mountains. After a while I was too tired to walk, and from now on I shifted
from shoulder to shoulder. At last a nice truck driver with an empty truck
stopped at our signals, and took us to our crossing, where we abundantly
thanked him for his kindness.

Again we walked and walked, until we reached the hotel in the clearing, now
being dead tired.  The nice hotel owners took care of our blisters and
cramped muscles, while one of the men drove to our camp. Soon he returned,
followed by a couple of our own cars to pick us up.

I honestly can't tell you what happened next, as I fell asleep in the car
and woke up in my own bed, halfway through the next day...

============================

Thank you for reading this chapter of 'Little Harry's youth'.

My FIRST book, 'Little Harry', is for sale! It costs only $ 19.95 ...
Please visit my homepage  http://www.harryanders.com
and buy it. It's helping lots of people to cope with their feelings!


I love your emails, please send them to  harry@harryanders.com .

Maybe I will not be able to answer all of them, but be assured I will
certainly read them all!

I wish you lots of Love in your life, and Peace in your heart.
And thank you, Nifty, for hosting my stories.

Harry AnderS, alternative writer.
I'm living in The Netherlands, and my native language is Dutch.
Please have a look at my site: http://www.harryanders.com