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Chapter 16. Busted!

    I woke up with the harsh sound of our loudly resonating doorbell.
What time was it?
Who the heck wanted to pay us a visit this early in the morning?
It couldn't be John, because he started to stir in my right arm; and little Harry yawned and slowly stretched out in my left arm...
Obviously, at some time during the night, both of them had crawled into my bed again.
I chuckled at their antics, but also felt curious about who wanted to visit us this early in the morning.

    Little Harry yawned again, and grumbled:

    "Wassup? I wanna sleep some more..."

    John sat up, yawned, and muttered something sounding like a curse.
He jumped out of bed, and stumbled to the window to have a look outside.
    With a surprised face, he turned towards me:

    "Dad, there's a police car in front of our house!"

    The doorbell rang again, this time impatiently sounding a couple of times in succession.
At the same time, somebody outside started to pound on our front door.
Was our house on fire, or had something horrible happened?

    I hasted out of bed and dressed in a hurry, followed suit by two now very agitated boys.
Together, we raced downstairs and rushed to the front door, while the doorbell started to ring again.
Dreading some disaster, I opened the door and looked outside...

    Directly in front of our door, two police officers impatiently waited for us, ready to pound the door again.
In our driveway, two other officers had put their police car in front of our own car to block its way; leaning against it and staring at us... 

    The officers at the door briefly showed me their identity cards:

    "You have to come with us, because we want to ask you a couple of questions. Both boys will come with us as well, and where is the third boy?"

    "Huh? What do you mean by a 'third boy'? There isn't a third boy! What is the trouble, officer, and why are you here? Did we do something wrong?"

    "You will find out soon enough. Are we allowed to go inside and inspect your house while you are away?"

    "Yes, why not. I have nothing to hide! However, what are you looking for, and what do you want to ask me? Has something happened?"

    The officers didn't even bother to answer, but entered our house without looking back, leaving the door wide open.
The waiting officers stepped towards us, and told us to follow them to their car.
One of them took my arm, while the other one clamped John's arm and little Harry's hand.
Were they afraid we would try to escape?
Why would we?
We hadn't done anything bad, and our consciences were clean...

    The officers guided us towards their car, opened its backdoor, and told us to get in.

    I entered the police car, feeling very confused.
What the heck did they want?
None of us had done anything questionable.
So, why did they arrest us?

    John and little Harry followed me inside the police car and sat next to me on the rear seat.
The officers closed the backdoor, entered the front seats, and drove off...

    John glared at them with balled fists and a furious expression on his face.
He seemed to be ready to defend us with his own life, if necessary.
I nudged him and shook my head warningly, and that seemed to calm him down a little bit.

    Little Harry sat next to me with his head in his hands, sighing and obviously feeling horrible.
Did he remember the nasty witch-hunts, when he was a little Gypsy prince and the police raided their camp?
I wasn't feeling very well either, and forcefully tried to calm myself down.
Why were the officers looking for a third boy?
Did they mean Davey?

    The officers drove us to their police station, and entered a yard through a heavy iron gate.
The gate closed behind us with a squeaking sound, while they parked their car at the back of a dull looking grayish building.
John tried to open the car door, but it appeared to be locked from the outside...
Why did they lock us in, as if we were criminals?

    The officers left their car, opened our door from the outside, and told us to follow them.
They guided us to a heavy steel door, which magically opened on our approach.
We entered a musty smelling passageway; while the steel door closed behind us with a loud bang.
We followed the passageway, until we turned to the left and entered a large hallway with several doors.

    One of the officers opened a grayish door, and beckoned me:

    "In here, sir..."

    Little Harry tried to follow me, but the other officer stopped him:

    "You are going to another room."

    "DAD..." little Harry exclaimed; now wide-eyed and trembling with fear.

    "It is okay, son. Calm down, and nothing will happen to you." I reassured him.

    The officer closed my door, before I could say any more encouraging words.

    Suddenly, I was alone.
Outside the door, I faintly heard the echoing voice of little Harry, who panicked again and started to scream.
Then, I heard the lower voice of John, who tried to calm him down.
Another door shut with an echoing bang, and everything went dead silent.

    I looked around at a square room, containing a small table and four wooden chairs.
Through a barred window, I could see part of a small yard, surrounded by a heavy fence.
Everything outside was surrealistically silent.
Even the birds seemed to avoid this place...

    Why were we here?
What had happened?
I was absolutely sure none of us had done anything questionable.
Feeling very uneasy, I slumped down onto one of the wooden chairs, and waited...

    Now and then, I thought I heard little Harry's high-pitched voice, yelling and screaming, but I wasn't sure.
It could be my imagination, because I expected my proud little Prince to fight back...
What would happen to him?
Why had they separated him from me?
Would he be able to cope with his fears?
Ultimately, he was only eight years old, and could be very vulnerable...

    What would happen to John?
I suspected they had separated him from his little brother, because little Harry panicked a second time...
How would John cope with the separation?
I knew that he could be very short-tempered, and would try to protect his little brother at all costs...
I only hoped he wouldn't do anything foolish.

    What would happen to me?
Why did they bring me here?
Had Davey or his mother told the police anything questionable about me?
However, what could they have told them?
None of us had done anything improper...

    Had Thomas told the police about John and himself, playing with each other's 'things'?
I could hardly imagine they would arrest them, or us, for doing something every normal man remembers from his own youth...

    For heaven's sake, why had the police detained ME, for the first time in my life?
I didn't have the faintest idea, and couldn't come up with any explanation...
Why did they separate my boys from me?
Were they afraid I would instruct them what to tell?
I thought and thought, but nothing seemed to make any sense...

    My head was in turmoil, and I started to develop a headache.
Therefore, I forced myself to calm down and concentrate on my Inner Peace.
I hadn't done anything wrong, and I had nothing to hide!
They couldn't keep me here forever; and, soon, they would offer me their well-meant excuses for their terrible mistake...
Then, I would collect my boys; and we would go home, laughing at our strange adventure.

    I calmed down some more, and started to wait patiently.
Nothing happened, and I waited some more.
Still nothing happened; and now, I started to feel rather uncomfortable.
What, if the police officers forgot they had put me here, and I slowly wasted away?
Would they eventually find my bare bones?
I started to wait again, for what felt like an eternity...

    Suddenly, the door opened without any warning, and two police officers entered the room.
Both of them took a seat without saying anything, and started to stare at me.
I stared back at them, without saying a word.
What did they want from me?
Were they waiting for me to open some conversation?
Then, they could wait for a very long time!
I hadn't asked to be here...

    After some time, one of the officers asked me:

    "May we offer you a cup of coffee?"

    "Yes, please, with two sugars and no milk."

    The other officer left the room, and soon returned carrying three disposable cups.
In silence, we drank our coffee, while both officers continued to stare at me.
Was that their 'tactic', trying to break down any resistance in advance?

    Finally, one of them reopened the conversation, intently looking into my eyes:

    "Of course, you know why we brought you here..."

    I stared back at him, trying to look as innocent as possible:

    "Sorry, sir, but I don't have the faintest idea! I have nothing to hide, and I am sure I did nothing wrong. Why am I here, and where are my boys?"

    The other officer looked at me with piercing eyes, probably trying to determine whether I was sincere or not:

    "Both boys are okay now. They were questioned in another room by a trained interrogator.  Don't worry about them, and they are in good hands.
"However, because you don't seem to understand why you are here, we will jog your memory by telling you what happened.
"A few days ago, we received an anonymous report, mentioning a newcomer living alone in a big house. He seemed to collect a lot of children, and that is why we traced you down.
"You are divorced, have two grown-up daughters, and no grandchildren. Am I correct so far?"

    "Yes, sir. I am divorced, and I do have two daughters. However, I am certainly NOT collecting any children! What a stupid idea..."

    "We observed your house for some time, but didn't see anything suspicious.
"That is, until two days ago, when we received another anonymous report, stating that you now had two young boys living with you.
"This time, we consulted with the public prosecutor; and he decided to keep a close eye on you, until we were sure that nothing improper was happening.
"Yesterday, we got a phone call from a very disturbed lady, who saw an almost naked and crying young boy leave your house in a panic.
"This time, the prosecutor decided to start an investigation. That is why we brought you here.
"Who was that panicking young boy, and why did he cry?"

    I felt thunderstruck, gasped for air, and tried to understand what they were insinuating.
For heaven's sake, what were they up to?
This was totally crazy!
An anonymous neighbor sent reports to the police, about my little soul mate and our dear friend living in my house...
A 'very disturbed' lady called the police about Davey, who panicked in our shower because he remembered his own beast of a father...
What kind of a world are we living in?
This wasn't Big Brother watching, this was the Whole Neighborhood peeking through my windows...

    I started to be angry and involuntarily balled my fists.
However, I forced myself to calm down and think fast, before I did something I certainly would regret.
Throwing a tantrum, as both officers seemed to be waiting for, wouldn't be of any use here.
I HAD to answer the questions of these suspicious 'child-protectors' in a reasonable way...

    I calmed myself down considerably, before answering them:

    "I only know his first name, 'Davey', and he is a friend of my boys. He helped us carry some heavy packages upstairs, and joined my sweaty boys in the shower.
"He panicked when I suddenly showed up, because his own father always abused him in the shower and even raped him. That is why he ran away almost naked...
"My boys went to his house, and told him I was a good man and would never do anything questionable to any child. His mother and he visited me, and she told me everything.
"Now, we are good friends, and Davey is no longer afraid of me. He is a very vulnerable and severely damaged boy...
"As a psychotherapist and trained in helping abused children, I am very happy to be able to help him feel better."

    "We are fully aware of who Davey is! He was abused by his own father from a very young age.
"Fortunately, we were able to put that man in prison for a very long time; and his son will be safe from now on, at least from HIM...
"Now, let's get back to YOU. Davey is already the third vulnerable and damaged boy who frequents your house.
"The first one, a burnt little Gypsy boy, lost both parents and was in a hospital for a long time.
"The second boy was recently abandoned by his own father, while his mother fled away to another town...
"The prosecutor suspects that you are particularly attracted to victimized or damaged young boys, and he wants us to stop you from damaging them even further!"

    Again, both officers started to stare at me with piercing eyes, obviously trying to weaken my objections in advance...

    At first, I almost started to laugh!
This was the most crazy and stupid reasoning I had ever heard!
They had turned everything that happened, totally upside down, to be able to accuse me of some improper behavior and put me in jail...
Then, the full significance of what they were stating started to dawn on me, and I suddenly felt very uneasy.
They would never listen to my opinion, and contort every word so that it could be used against me...

    How could I ever defend myself against their false arguments?
Could I tell them that the late Jack, the former owner of my house, brought all three boys to me?
Would they ever accept that little Harry and I knew each other from several past lives, and that he had been my own son?
Should I tell them that John once had been our best friend; and that Davey needed a grown-up in his life, to help him cope with his abusive past?
Would they ever believe me?
Or, would they immediately phone a madhouse and put me into a straitjacket...

    Suddenly, I started to understand how it felt to be the victim of a witch-hunt...
I felt totally helpless, and didn't know how to escape from their crazy accusations.
They thought they were right; and they were, because they had the 'law' on their side!
'Right' was everything looked upon as being 'normal' by the majority of our society...
In their eyes, I was not 'normal', because the majority didn't understand what I was trying to do.
Thus, they would try to put me back onto the 'morally correct way', by punishing me and preventing me from doing any more 'abnormal' things.
Unfortunately, this also applied to anybody else who didn't agree with the majority and tried to walk their own way...

    I decided to try to defend myself against their crazy accusations:

    "Sir, you are accusing me of total nonsense! I am a 'normal' man, and certainly not 'attracted to young boys' in any improper way.
"Never, in all my life, did I do anything to or with children I cannot be PROUD of.
"I also didn't do anything to lure my boys, or to force them into my house. They are visiting me at their own free choice, with their parents' consent, and absolutely voluntarily..."

    "Why are you suddenly blaming these innocent children for your strange behavior? YOU are the grown-up. YOU should know better."

    "WHAT should I know better, officer? I am only trying to HELP my boys, using my knowledge as a trained psychotherapist, and being friendly to them."

    "During our house search, we found clear evidence that at least two children shared your bed last night, and you know that both of them are complete strangers to you.
"What did they do in YOUR bed? We also took a couple of pictures, as proof for the prosecutor, and we did a quick search for child porn in your house and on your computer.
"As you see for yourself, we are totally honest with you. And, from now on, we expect you to be totally truthful with us as well..."

    Again, both officers started to stare at me with piercing eyes...
Would they really try to accuse me of doing 'improper' things with my boys?
In our society, having your 'own' upset child sleeping next to you in the same bed, was accepted as being 'normal'.
But, what if the child FELT like being your 'own'?
Would you really have to marry his mother first, to be allowed to reassure a kid?
What a crazy world we were living in; where every emotional behavior first had to be regulated and tested for being 'normal'...

    I decided to go on with my efforts to defend myself:

    "Sir, I AM totally honest and truthful with you. I am telling you the truth, and nothing but the truth.
"I am a well-known psychotherapist, trained in helping victimized and abused children, and be assured that I am a very GOOD one.
"My boys went to sleep in their OWN beds. This morning, I woke up with both of them next to me, to my own surprise.
"Obviously, they decided to crawl into my bed sometime during the night. I never asked or lured them to sleep in my bed.
"They did it voluntarily, because they felt SAFE with me and NEEDED the feeling of being loved and cared for. Did you ever hear of 'Tender Loving Care'?
"Now, all of a sudden, we are in custody, and you separated my boys from me. Why are we here? What did we do wrong? Where are my boys? I want to see them NOW!"

    "Please, sir, don't blame US, because we are only doing our job. We really want to believe that you are sincere and only doing YOUR job!
"However, let's have a look at you from OUR point of view... A stranger enters our village, and immediately starts to connect with a couple of neighborhood children.
"Suddenly, he takes a small boy into his house. Soon, another boy starts to live in the same house. Then, a third boy enters his house and leaves it naked and in a panic...
"What would YOU think of such a stranger? This sort of behavior certainly doesn't look 'normal'; not even for a 'well-known psychotherapist'...
"On top of this, there is plenty of evidence that two young children shared the stranger's bed during the night.
"Now, please, tell me, how would YOU react?"

    "Whatever you may think of me; I told you what I did, and I am telling you the truth and only the truth.
"I didn't do anything I should be ashamed of, and I am PROUD of everything I achieved so far.
"My boys are living in my house with the consent of their parents or wardens. They trust me, and their parents trust me too.
"They all are glad that I'm willing to help their boys and to have them under my wings!"

    "You might be sincere... but, why did you, as a responsible grown-up, let these vulnerable children sleep in your own bed?
"And, please, don't come up with the story that they WANTED to! That is what every child abuser always tries to tell us...
"YOU are the grown-up, and you are responsible for them and for their welfare, as long as they are in your house.
"I am sure you KNOW that our society doesn't exactly approve of strangers sleeping with little children in the same bed. Just read the newspaper stories...
"Another question is: why are you calling these boys 'MY boys'? They are not your property. They are NOTHING to you.
"You are not their father or their warden, and you are not running a youth hostel either...
"In reality, you are only a stranger who seems to be attracted to vulnerable little boys; and you are trying to get them into your house and into your bed.
"Fortunately, our society protects innocent children from perverted men like you."

    I felt totally numb, and couldn't think of any more answers to defend myself...
They hadn't even LISTENED to what I told them.
What should I do now?

    One officer stared at me with a grim face, while the other one took over:

    "This time, we are not able to prove you did anything improper; but, next time, you will be imprisoned for a very long time!
"For the moment, we are going to make SURE there will not be another time. From now on, you will have to get your rocks off on somebody who's about your own age, and not on innocent little children...
"The prosecutor ordered us to get the little Gypsy boy to a juvenile home, where he will receive the proper guidance to overcome the new troubles he got into.
"The other boy will be sent back to his mother, who lives in another town. We already phoned her, and she is on her way.
"From now on, we will keep a very close eye on you. The very moment any child enters your house, we will immediately arrest you, so be prepared. We will not give you another chance...
"This time, you are free to go home, and we will show you to the exit."

    Both officers rose from their chairs and beckoned me to follow them.
They quickly guided me to the front door, and opened it.
I stepped outside, and the door closed behind me with a vicious click.
Suddenly, I blinked my eyes in the dazzling sunlight, not knowing where I was...

    I felt totally numb and incapable of any more thinking or feeling.
All these threatening words were still turning around and around in my head, making me feel dizzy.
Everything around me was a blur; and I stepped back, looking for something to support me.
Leaning against the police station, and squinting against the too bright sunlight, I tried to look around...

    Where was I?
I had no idea where they had taken me, and I didn't recognize this part of the village.
I wasn't even sure whether it was the same village, or not...
During our trip, I hadn't paid any attention to where the officers brought us.

    Slowly, some part of my consciousness returned, and I started to think again.
Where would John and little Harry be now?
Were they still in the police station, being interrogated?
Didn't I have to wait for them, to take them home?

    Then, reality cruelly crushed upon me: I would never see them again!
The police officers would NEVER again allow me to have any children in my house...
I slumped down against the building, and started to wail from my sudden agony.

    A moment later, I forced myself to shut down my horrible feelings.
Wallowing in my pain wouldn't be of any help now.
First, I had to go HOME.
Where could I find a taxicab, or a bus station?
I searched my pockets for my wallet...
Slowly, I realized that I had left my keys and my wallet in our living room, lying on my desk...
I wouldn't even be ABLE to take a taxi or a bus!

    Still feeling dizzy, I started to walk blindly, hoping to stumble upon something familiar.
Then, a voice inside my head told me to keep the sun at my left side...
Was Jack around me?
 I couldn't care less, but listened to the voice and did as he told me.

    I moved my legs mechanically, avoiding most trees and lampposts on autopilot.
All the time, only one terrible feeling pounded through my chest: I had lost my little soul mate.
They had put him in a juvenile home, and I would never see him again.
Nothing else mattered.
Without my boy, I didn't want to live any more...

    I bumped into a parked car, and its angry owner shouted something like 'drunken parasite'.
I couldn't care less, and went on and on, keeping the sun at my left side.

    I walked for a long time, until the sun disappeared and dusk started to emerge.
How would I find my way, now that I couldn't see the sun any more?
I still didn't have the faintest idea where I was, or how long I had been walking...
My leg muscles were strained and aching, and my feet were sore and sopped in my shoes as if they were bleeding.
My heart pounded in my chest from exhaustion, and I started to have blurry vision.
However, I kept on walking, stubbornly going on, refusing to give up.

    Squinting into the vague dusk, I suddenly recognized my surroundings!
I rubbed my eyes to see better, and headed for what I thought could be my block.
Yes! Here, in this crossing, John and little Harry once told me to turn our car to the right...

    A minute later, I heaved a deep sigh of relief and entered my driveway.
Almost crawling from exhaustion, I hobbled to the backdoor, to look for little Harry's hidden key.
After some searching, I found it on its nail in the bushes, and unlocked the door with trembling hands.
I stumbled inside with my last effort, closed the door, and was HOME.
Slumping onto the carpet, I started to sob, aggravating my headache...

    I cried for a long time, with my eyes closed.
All the time, I was painfully aware of being alone in the house.
From now on, this would be my sole existence...
I would live alone, without John and little Harry around me to brighten my life...
Never again would I hear their cheerful laughs and heart-warming voices...

    The moment I opened my eyes, the world started to turn around and my headache aggravated.
My aching legs trembled, my heart pounded in my chest, and my sore feet hurt.
I was very thirsty, but didn't dare stand up from fear of falling down and injuring myself.
Thus, I waited, silently and patiently, until I would be able to move towards the sink without blacking out...

    Now and then, my telephone in the living room started to ring, but I didn't know how to answer it, still sitting on the floor and feeling dizzy.
Besides, this could only be some annoying sales agency, trying to sell me something I hadn't asked for.
Who else would phone me?
Nobody else knew my number...

    After a long time, my dizziness slowly faded away, and I was able to move around.
I reached for my shoes, and carefully peeled them off to free my sore feet.
Fortunately, they didn't bleed, but my soles were covered with lots of nasty blisters.

    I hobbled to the sink, splashed my face, and gulped some water.
Immediately, I felt queasy and emptied my stomach into the sink.
Again, I tried to drink; this time more carefully, and I succeeded in quenching my scorching thirst without vomiting again.

    Feeling a bit better, I hobbled to the living room.
I sat down on my couch, leaned against its back, and looked around...

    My house no longer felt like 'home'.
It felt more like a dark prison, or a gray tomb; a very empty one.
All life was gone from my house, and I felt like a zombie.
Was this how I would be living from now on?
I closed my eyes, tried to block out my disturbing feelings, and started to think...

    What had the police officers done to my boys, while 'interrogating' them?
Where were John and little Harry?
And, Davey? Had they arrested him as well?
Did they already put my little soul mate in a juvenile home, to give him their 'proper guidance'?

    I started to sob, my sobs turned into cries, and my cries turned into loud wails.
Then, I broke down completely, crying my heart out and banging my head against the back of the couch.
The room started to turn around again, and everything went black...

    Slowly, my consciousness returned, while I tried to get up from the floor.
Maybe, I fell off the couch, without knowing it...
I scrambled back unto my couch and sat down.

    The living room was pitch black, I had a pounding headache, every muscle in my body ached, and my world turned around and around.
After some time, the spinning slowly stopped, but reality returned in all its intensity...
Today, I had lost everything that had been worth living for.
This morning, I had lost my little soul mate, my best friend, maybe Davey, and certainly my will to live...
From now on, I would be totally alone, for the remainder of my life...
My heart ached with an unbearable pain, and I hoped that my end would come soon.

    I started to sob again, but that only aggravated my headache.
Therefore, I sat up, took a couple of deep breaths, and forced myself to suppress my emotions.
Now, I was glad to have taught myself how to do it!

    I staggered from the couch, and switched a couple of lights on.
Next, I went to the kitchen to take a couple of aspirins.
I swallowed them down with some water, splashing my face under the streaming tap.
That made me think of little Harry, enthusiastically splashing his face after his mask started to itch...
    I remembered his so well-known boyish voice, spluttering and gasping:

    "Nnnggg. That feels better!"

    Again, I broke down and started to cry my heart out.
I missed him already!
I terribly missed my little soul mate!
Where was he now?
Would I ever see him again?

    Still sobbing, I returned to the living room and looked around...
All my drawers were open, and their contents were spread out all over the place.
The computer was turned around, and several floppy disks and CD's were spread out onto my desk.
All my cardboard boxes had been opened, and several personal things littered the floor...
The officers seemed to have looked into everything.

    Suddenly, a furious rage overwhelmed me. I balled my fists and shouted:

    "This is MY house, dammit! This room is MINE, and nobody has the right to look into my private belongings! John and Harry are MY boys, and I want them back!"

    But, I have LOST them...
This morning, they took my boys away from me, and I will never see them again.
From now on, my life will be totally empty, with only the memories of my happy looking boys to think of...

    Never before had I felt so worthless.
I threw myself onto my couch, screaming from my heartache; and, again, everything around me went black.
This time, I welcomed the darkness as a friend.
I had lost my will to live and wanted to disappear completely.
I tumbled into a bottomless dark hole, and felt almost happy.

    I tried to open my eyes and look around...
Was I dead and in heaven now?
I had the vague memory of a bright light and a reassuring voice, but didn't remember anything else.
However, my headache and dizziness were gone, and I felt a lot better.

    Suddenly, I realized that I was very hungry.
I hadn't eaten since yesterday!
With a rumbling stomach, I went to the kitchen and started to butter some slices of toast...
Then, I remembered little Harry, stirring the eggs and slicing his herbs, while telling me what to do next.
Again, I started to cry my heart out.
I missed him terribly!

    Again, I forcefully willed my emotions to calm down.
Next, I forced myself to eat at least some toast and cheese, but it tasted like cardboard.
I brewed myself a cup of coffee, but it tasted like sewage.
I threw it away, and drank some water instead.
Still feeling hungry, I dragged myself back to the living room, dreading to go upstairs.

    Now and then, I thought my boys were around; chatting, teasing each other, or playing their computer games.
Then, my heart leapt up in my chest with joy, and I looked around to see where they were...
Unfortunately, I only heard my own memories, playing dirty tricks with my mind.
From now on, I would never again hear their happy voices or feel their arms around my neck.
They were gone forever, and I would never see them again...

    I stared at the green model with a flesh-colored face, standing on a corner of my dresser, proudly looking into the room...
Little Harry's beautiful mask.
Again, I started to cry my heart out, thinking of my boy.
How would my little soul mate cope in a juvenile home, without his mask to hide the scars?

    Feeling dead tired, I dragged myself upstairs, hoping to get some sleep.
Alas, everything in the shower reminded me of my boys.
The shower stall was littered with plastic cups and paperclips.
A couple of air balloons and plastic tubes greeted me from the chest of drawers.
A pile of wet towels adorned the still wet floor.
Wherever I looked, I saw pieces of clothing, colored toothbrushes, hair combs, and footprints...

    Again, I started to cry.
Never again, would I join my boys in the shower, feeling a little boy myself, but keeping my briefs on for prudence...
I sobbed, left the shower without using it, and staggered to my bedroom.

    I entered my bedroom, and looked at our waterbed.
I could clearly see the three imprints, one tall one and two smaller ones, where my boys and I had been sleeping in each other's arms...
In a sudden outburst of despair, I smoothed the sheets, until the imprints were gone.
It felt like wiping out all the beautiful memories of my boys and me.
From now on, I would be totally alone...

    I undressed, crawled under the sheets, and desperately tried to have some sleep.

    However, every time when I started to doze away, I heard the telephone downstairs, ringing from the living room and waking me up again.
Who, for heaven's sake, was trying to call me, again and again, at this impossible hour of the night?
Couldn't they leave me alone and pester somebody else?
I didn't WANT to answer some happy sounding insurance agent who tried to sell me some important policy I didn't need.
Forcefully pushing my face in between two cushions, I tried to block my ears.

    At long last, I drifted off into a restless sleep full of dark nightmares.

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

Thank you again, for all your wonderful and stimulating emails!
I will still try to answer them all; unless I am getting too many of them.

Did you enjoy my story? Then, please, let me know, by sending me an email!
My email has changed, due to all the excessive spam! Please, email me ONLY from within my site.

You may read (and buy) all my stories and books at my site: http://www.harryanders.com

I wish you lots of Love in your life, and Profound Peace in your heart.

Harry AnderS, Dutch psychotherapist and writer of 'books with a message'