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Chapter 18. A Chinese Palace, and Gypsy recollections...

    Still feeling a bit shaky, we decided to allow ourselves a little extravagance.
This night, we would dine at a Chinese restaurant, thus relieving little Harry from his self-chosen task as our little chief cookie.
John and Davey were elated, but little Harry looked a bit uneasy...
    Sounding nervous, he asked:

    "I have been in restaurants before, with Jack and with you; but only in this country...
"Are we really going to eat in China? Isn't that too far away? Do you speak their language? How are we going to get there?"

    We all bellowed with laughter; guffawing and slapping our knees.
John and Davey started to tease little Harry about digging a tunnel, to reach a country that's almost at the opposite side of the earth...

    Then, we told our still worried looking little boy that we were planning to eat Chinese food in a nearby restaurant in our own country.
A 'Chinese' restaurant doesn't mean the restaurant is in China!
It only means they serve Chinese food. In this case, the owners were of Chinese origin, and they prepare their original country's specialties.
Little Harry looked relieved, and went to the hallway to put on his shoes.

    First, we went to Davey's house, to invite his mother to join us.
Of course, we had to tell Mary everything about our adventure of being detained and freed by John's mother.
Now, she was very pleased she had refused to let an officer interrogate Davey.
She told us how a man phoned her and asked her to file a charge against me for trying to abuse her vulnerable child.
At first, she started to laugh at his contorted story, and told him what had really happened!
Then, she became angry, and told him to stop his slander and leave Davey alone.

    I told her about Davey's wish to call me 'Dad'...
Slowly, Mary got tears in her eyes, while Davey went to her and crawled onto her lap.
We could feel her relief and joy, while she took a handkerchief out of her purse and wiped her eyes.
    Cuddling Davey and kissing his head, she told me:

    "Thank you, for being such a wonderful friend to my son and me! I am sure you will be the right person in Davey's life.
"Of course, Davey is allowed to call you 'Dad', as long as both of you agree. He never had a real father before, and I am very happy for him to have YOU as his new Dad!"

    "Well... I don't know what to say. Thank you, for trusting me with your son. I promise that I will treat Davey as if he is my own child.
"Now, I have another question. We are having a Chinese dinner in town this evening, and we invite you to join us."

    "That is very nice of you to ask, but I have to take a rain check. I've already made an appointment with a friend, who will be here within half an hour...
"However, next time, I would be delighted to cook for all of you. Do you want to have dinner with ME next time, here in my house instead of in a restaurant?"

    We gleefully accepted her invitation, and I promised her to bring her son back around nine o'clock.
We hugged her, and went back home to prepare for our 'dinner in China', accompanied by a happy looking Davey.

    Little Harry took his mask from the green model, and asked me:

    "Dad? Will you please help me put my mask on? I am still afraid I might damage it."

    Of course, I helped him, by putting him in front of the mirror and watching what he did...
First, he carefully smeared the inside of his mask with the sticky substance from the brown bottle.
Then, he put both hands under the non-sticky side, and positioned the mask onto his face, as Peter taught him to do.
Next, he started to rub it in various directions until it fitted perfectly, without any help from me.
    Feeling proud of my son, I ruffled his hair and told him:

    "Next time, you can do it all by yourself; and I am very proud of you!"

    He beamed, threw his arms around my neck, and offered me a slightly sticky kiss.
Davey observed little Harry's ministrations in utmost amazement.
At first, he only looked, and didn't know what to say about his newly transformed friend...
    Suddenly, he blurted out:

    "Boy, man, you look NORMAL now! I can hardly recognize you, and your new face is beautiful!"

    Little Harry beamed even more, and proudly led the way to our car.

    We drove to the center of a big town, and I parked our car in an underground garage.
Little Harry took our parking ticket from the automat, and promised to keep it carefully until we needed it again.
We went upstairs to the exit; and entered a big and crowded square, surrounded by huge shops and impressive buildings.
For a moment, we just looked around, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sheer size of everything...

    Then, we headed for the Chinese restaurant, built on the ground floor of one of the huge shops.
A pair of beautifully carved wooden dragons and two smiling Chinese doorkeepers guarded its roofed entrance.
Several elaborate red and golden decorations abundantly adorned its eye-catching facade.
Little Harry started to tremble, took my arm, and tried to disappear under it...

    With a quivering voice, he stammered:
  
    "Who lives here? Will they allow us to go in? I never was in a real palace before..."

    For a moment, John and Davey stared at him in disbelief.
Then, both of them started to chuckle; nudging each other and pretending to sneak around the doorkeepers...
    Finally, John told his nervous little brother:

    "Just wait, until you have a chance to visit a REAL palace. This is only a colorful place where you can eat some Chinese food."

    Little Harry clearly didn't believe him.
He looked at all the sparkling 'gold', and slowly shook his head.
He was quiet for a long time, furtively looking around from under my arm.

    He disappeared completely when we had to pass the bowing doorkeepers.
He only showed up again after we passed the doorway, and nothing bad happened...
Only when we were inside the 'palace', he left his safe place and started to look around in awe.

    A bowing 'palace servant', clad in an abundantly colored garment, escorted us to an empty table.
We sat down; while little Harry stared at the decorated Chinese man open-mouthed.
The man smiled back at him, took our order, and disappeared towards the kitchen after performing another bow.
For a split second, little Harry's demeanor of Royalty showed up, and he bowed back at the servant with a slight nod...
Then, he resumed looking around in awe.

    After some time, a wheeled table arrived, filled with all sorts of different cups and platters.
Two smiling and bowing 'palace servants' distributed them onto our table.
Soon, our table was overcrowded with food, and little Harry's eyes grew bigger and bigger...

    Feeling hungry, we filled our plates with several nicely smelling foods and spices.
Now, our little cookie's curiosity got the upper hand, and he took a spoon instead of the chopsticks.
Carefully, he put a tiny bit of everything onto his plate, and tasted...
Smiling from ear to ear, he took some more, neatly putting all the different spices next to each other.
He compared the different flavors, and gleefully took a spoonful more of everything he liked.
With a serious face, he started to mix a couple of them...
    He put the mixture together with some rice, savored the taste, and beamed:

    "This tastes really good, Dad. You should try to mix that reddish powder over there, with this stringy green snot from here..."

    Total silence fell over our table...
Then, John and Davey started to bellow with laughter, almost falling off their chairs!
I nearly choked on my mouthful of rice, and coughed a few times to clear my throat.
A few guests glared at us with disturbed faces, but we couldn't care less.
Red-faced, and trying to suppress our snickering, we tried to calm down and resume our meal.

    Now and then, John and Davey sniggered about mixing 'reddish snot' with 'stringy green rice'...
However, little Harry looked at them in disdain and shook his head, as if he was the holy innocence in person...

    We enjoyed our tasty Chinese dinner very much.
Our little chief cookie assisted us, by carefully conjuring all sorts of exquisite tastes with the help of the different spices.
He really was a magical cook, having an extraordinary gift for knowing exactly what to mix together to make our meal an unforgettable experience!
Finally, we were stuffed to the brim, and decided to pass on the dessert.

    Little Harry burped loudly, causing a couple of guests to protest and send him indignant looks.
However, all the Chinese waiters and a couple of Chinese guests smiled at him, and a few of them even bowed...
    Little Harry politely bowed back at them, and told us:

    "I remember doing this after every meal, to thank the food-spirits for providing us with their sustenance. In our Gypsy camp, it was very impolite not to burp!"

    Well... thinking about it, this sounded reasonable.
Why shouldn't we thank our food, for offering us their tasteful nourishment.
It was quite possible that non-human beings also had spirits that left them after death.
I summoned a waiter and paid the bill with my credit card, leaving a generous tip.

    We strolled back to the crowded square, and descended the stairs to our car in the underground garage.
Little Harry put our parking ticket into the automat, and I helped him feed it money until it returned the ticket.
We entered our car, buckled up, and I drove towards the exit and put the paid ticket into a scanner.
Magically, a bar opened, allowing us to leave the garage...
We drove home, feeling satisfied and singing along with the music of our car stereo.

    After entering our village, we took Davey home first, because it was almost nine o'clock.
We all left our car, and walked him to the door.
Davey hugged us and kissed me twice, while his mother looked at us with tears in her eyes.
He thanked me abundantly for the nice evening and the Chinese meal, and promised us to be back tomorrow after doing some chores.
Mary and Davey waved until we drove away and disappeared from their vision.

    I parked our car in the driveway, and little Harry proudly opened the front door with my keys.
We were very tired from all the emotional turmoil, and decided to call it a day and go to bed early.
We needed our rest; and I would phone little Harry's transplant clinic early in the morning, to explain why we did not show up...
We went upstairs, and little Harry and John followed me into my bedroom.
Both of them threw their arms around my waist, obviously needing a cuddle.

    Showing me his best puppy dog eyes, John asked me:

    "Dad? Harry is a bit afraid that something will happen again; and I don't feel very safe either. Please, may we sleep in your bed tonight?
"We will shift towards the other side, so that you will have plenty of room for yourself..."

    I looked at their pleading puppy dog eyes, and started to chuckle.
How could I ever refuse my boys the safety of being with me during the night, after everything they went through?
Tomorrow, we would talk about it some more; but, for tonight, we would be together, reassuring and comforting each other!
I nodded my consent; and both boys jumped up at me, so that all of us fell back onto our waterbed.
We romped and cuddled some more, until we decided to undress.

    To my surprise, the boys kept their promise.
After we showered and brushed our teeth, they both dived under the blankets and immediately shifted towards the other side of the bed.
We wished each other good night and sweet dreams, and closed our eyes...

    Two minutes later, a heat radiating small body tentatively shifted towards me and worked itself into my arms.
I chuckled, because I already expected this to happen, and tenderly pulled little Harry onto my stomach.
    Heaving a deep sigh, he melted into me, complaining:

    "Dad, I cannot sleep! Every time I close my eyes, an angry police officer tells me that I am doing improper things by sleeping in your bed..."

    "You know that the officer is wrong, don't you? Next time, tell him to go away and leave you alone. Remember that I am with you and will protect you. Okay?"

    "Okay, Dad. Now, I feel safe again; and I can go back to sleep."

    He heaved a deep sigh, closed his eyes, and started to snore within a minute.
John chuckled, draped himself along my side, and wished me goodnight again.
Five minutes later, I fell asleep, feeling blessed with my sons.

    Sometime during the night, I woke up, because little Harry thrashed around in my arms.
He moaned and flailed his arms and legs, obviously having another bad dream.
His body felt warm and sweaty, but fortunately not feverish.
I rubbed his stomach and kissed his head, until he woke up and calmed down...

    John woke up, looked at little Harry, and asked with a sleepy voice:

    "Shall I get him a glass of water?"

    "Yes, please, that would be nice. Did we wake you up? Sorry."

    "I am used to it. When he slept in my bed, he also had bad dreams now and then."

    John yawned, switched the lights on, and wavered downstairs; looking sleepy.
Little Harry left my arms, jumped out of bed, and followed John to take a quick leak.
After a moment, both of them returned, carrying three glasses of water.
Sitting together, we alternated between looking sleepy, yawning, and sipping...

    Little Harry leaned into me, and yawned:

    "Your advice really helped. First, I told the officer to leave me alone; and then, I started to pummel and kick him with all my might! Until you woke me up..."

    "Well, you actually pummeled and kicked ME with all your might! Fortunately, you didn't punch me a bloody nose."

    The little imp started to chuckle at the thought, but didn't answer...

    We put our empty glasses onto the nightstand, and went back to sleep.
Little Harry crawled back onto my stomach, while John switched the lights off and put his arms around his little brother and me.
Slowly, we drifted off again...

    Suddenly, I woke up from a loud scream, reverberating through the house.
I bolted upright, not knowing what happened, and groped around blindly to find the light switch.
A few seconds later, I switched the lights on to have a look at my boys...

    John sat upright and stared at me with a shocked face; desperately trying to wake up.
Little Harry had wide-open and frightened eyes, staring at something horrifying in a corner...
    Again, he screeched, waking up a couple of birds outside:

    "NOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooo..."

    He thrashed around, screaming at the top of his lungs, wildly swinging his arms.
For heaven's sake, what was happening?
Was he fighting a police officer again?

    I tried to take him into my arms; but he started to fight me to free himself, screaming even more.
He seemed to be delirious, with a frightened expression on his face and his eyes still staring at the same corner.
Whatever I tried to do, I couldn't calm him down.
He just continued to scream and fight...

    I started to be very angry with the police and with the public prosecutor, who likely were the main causes of little Harry's fright.
Was this how our Big Brother society PROTECTED my child, saddling him with such a nightmare?
Did they have any idea what they were DOING to defenseless little kids, with their over-protectiveness and zealous witch-hunts?

    Feeling more and more frustrated, I started to curse all police officers in the world.
John joined my cursing, with fire shooting eyes.
Never again would we trust any police officer!
They had done too much damage to our defenseless young friend.
 
    Eventually, little Harry calmed down, still trembling all over.
He closed his staring eyes, and started to cry without waking up.
Then, he melted into my arms, after a heartbreaking sigh and another heartfelt sob...

    John stared at his little brother, shaking his head in frustration:

    "Goodness, Dad; Harry fought against you and me! Look what these bloodsuckers DID to my poor little brother..."

    John started to cry from all the emotions; trying to suppress his sobs in my chest.

    I shifted little Harry into one arm, and tenderly took John in the other.
This time, it was HIS turn to be held close and feel safe.
All the time, he had tried to be strong while he fought for his little brother.
Now, for once, he allowed himself to be just another sad little boy who needed to be held and comforted...

    I held him close, until both of us drifted off into sleep again.
Fortunately, the remainder of the night passed without any more trouble.

    The next morning, I woke up with two yawning boys lying on my stomach and staring into my eyes.
Both of them grinned lazily, slowly competing for the best place.
I put my arms around them, and we cuddled for a while.
It felt good to have them back, after our nasty adventure and me desperately missing them.

    Little Harry didn't seem to remember anything about his screaming nightmare.
He only felt very tired, but thought that it was from all the emotional events he had been through.
John and I looked at each other; and we had a small conversation without words.
Neither of us would tell him!

    We woke up some more, and decided to dress and go downstairs.
I had to phone the transplant clinic, with excuses for not canceling the other day.
Maybe, I could have another appointment this afternoon, if possible...

    We showered, dressed, and went to the kitchen to have breakfast.
Little Harry was too tired to do very much, so John took over.
He made us a couple of sandwiches, while our little cookie told him which herbs he should use to make them a bit tastier.
The sandwiches tasted really good, and we enjoyed them and praised John for his cooking!
We took three glasses of orange juice to the living room, because I decided to eat and drink a bit healthier from now on...

    I went to my desk and sat down, planning to call the clinic and make my excuses.
First, I took Peter's card out of a drawer, to have the phone number ready.
Next, I stretched my hand out, to take the receiver off its cradle.

    At the same moment, the telephone suddenly started to ring!
I hadn't even touched it...
Feeling very surprised, I glared at it.
What was happening?
Could it be that one of our spirit friends was trying to play a funny game with me?

    Again, I stretched my hand out towards the receiver... and, promptly, the telephone rang again!

    Suddenly, I started to laugh at my lack of common sense.
Obviously, somebody else tried to phone ME, just before I wanted to do the same thing.
I only hoped it wouldn't be some happy sounding salesperson, trying to sell me something I didn’t need...
    I took the receiver from its cradle, and grumbled:

    "Hello, who is this?"

    The next moment, I almost fell off my chair at hearing somebody stutter and looking for words.
He seemed to be a foreigner, only speaking a few words of our language...
    Desperately looking for the right words, the foreigner stammered:

    "Escuse, sir? Do... boy, Harold Janovski Romani, live you house, telphone me? Yes?"

    Feeling very surprised, I took the receiver from my ear and stared at it...

    A man talked to me with a very heavy accent, barely knowing how to pronounce the words, and sounding almost in tears...
Who, for heaven's sake, was this man?
What a weird phone call to receive, this early in the morning...
Did this man really ask me for some boy, living in my house, wanting to speak to him?
A certain 'Harold something Romani'...

    Suddenly, I sat upright, feeling stunned and almost overturning my chair!
'Harold Romani'... wasn't that little Harry's real name?
Was this strange man really looking for my little soul mate?
What the heck did he want from my son?

    I brought the receiver back to my ear, and asked the man:

    "Sir, may I politely ask who YOU are, and what do you want from 'Harold'?"

    The man started to cry, at hearing my confirmation that there WAS a 'Harold' in my house...

    Sobbingly, he tried to tell me something, but I didn't understand him.
He spoke only a few words of our language, with a heavy accent...
At last, I deduced that his own name was 'Michail', and he asked me over and over to be allowed to talk to 'Harold'.

    Desperately, he tried to tell me what he wanted:

   "Me, Michail... telphone Harold? Boy in telphone? Yes? Lidle Harold, telphone me?"

    His heavy accent sounded familiar, almost sounding like the couple of strange words little Harry once spoke to our lawyer...

    I bolted upright in shock, feeling VERY surprised!
Could it be that little Harry's people found their young Prince, and tried to contact him by phone?
Did they find out our address and telephone number, maybe with the help of our lawyer?
Was this strange sounding man a Gypsy?
Was he trying to contact their vanished Heir to the Throne?

    For a moment, I was in doubt, not knowing what I should do...
Could I trust this man, and ask my little soul mate to listen to what he had to say?

    At that moment, I felt Jack around, reassuring me with a distinct "YES!" in my head.
I decided to trust Jack, without doubting about fantasizing his voice...
Besides, asking little Harry to try to understand this man, couldn't do much harm.
I would be ready to take over immediately, in case something went wrong...

    I turned towards my little soul mate, chuckling when I saw two very curious eyes:

    "Harry? This is a man, named 'Michail', who asks for a certain 'Harold'; but he only speaks a foreign language. Please, could you try to understand him?"

    Little Harry's eyes immediately lit up, hearing the name 'Michail'...
Then, his shoulders slumped down, as if he didn't believe his own expectations; or, maybe, he was afraid to be disappointed...
Hesitantly, he looked at the receiver, for a moment pondering what he should say to the foreigner.

    He took the receiver, put it to his ear, and asked with a tiny voice:

    "Yes, hello... Who is it?"

    Frowning, he listened intently...

    Suddenly, his bright blue eyes started to sparkle, and his beaming face almost lit up the room!
He nearly let the receiver slip out of his hands, while he started to dance with joy.
Obviously, he recognized the man, and was very happy to hear his voice...

    He leaned into me, forced himself to calm down, and told the receiver:

    "You really are MICHAIL? Yes? You FOUND me... Taj! Issi Harold!"

    He started to talk in the foreign language, now and then pausing to find the right words, looking frustrated about not being able to speak his own language fluently...
He listened, answered, asked a question, and answered again; after some time talking more fluently and with more confidence.
    Then, he looked up at me, with an enormous amount of love in his beaming eyes:

    "My own people found me, Dad! Michail asks me to tell you they are very grateful for helping me and caring for me, and they want to meet you tomorrow."

    "What? That is very soon... Could you ask him how we can meet, and where?"

    Again, little Harry looked for the right words, but the man seemed to understand him quite well.
They talked for another minute, questioning and answering.
    Then, little Harry looked up at me again:

    "My people are in Rumania, in our camp in the mountains. But, they will be here by airplane, tomorrow morning; and they will try to bring a translator, so that you can follow our conversation."

    "Of course, they are welcome here; but... do you REALLY want to meet them?"

    "OF COURSE, I want to meet my own people!"

    Little Harry returned to the receiver, and resumed the conversation.
He listened, nodded, answered again, over time speaking his language more and more fluently.
Now and then, he looked up at me with beaming eyes, still leaning into me.

    I also observed a subtle change in his posture.
He stood more upright, had more pride in his gestures, and again showed his aura of aristocracy.
He really was a Prince, talking to his beloved subject!

    After a long time, little Prince Harold Janovski Romani put the receiver back onto its cradle.
He turned around, put his arms around my waist, and started to cry.

    Tenderly, I lifted him off the floor, and carried him to our couch.
I sat him on my lap, put my arms around his small frame, and slowly cradled him.
At the same time, John draped his arm around him from the other side, and offered him a couple of tissues.
Little Harry smiled faintly, and gratefully blew his nose...

    The telephone started to ring again, and I lifted little Harry onto John's lap.
I left our couch and went to my desk, expecting to hear the Rumanian voice again...

    To my surprise, I heard our enthusiastic lawyer.
Proudly, he announced that he had found little Harry's Gypsy clan, somewhere in Rumania!
They had asked him for my phone number and a lot of extra information; and he had faxed them everything...

    He nearly fell off his chair when I told him they already phoned me:

    "But... they didn't speak a word of our language, and I had to hire an interpreter to be able to fax them..."

    I told him about little Harry's conversation, and about our pending meeting.
He promised to be present, to oversee any legal consequences and to keep a close eye on everything else concerning my little Gypsy Prince Harold something Romani.
What was his middle name?
Oh yeah, 'Janovski'...

    I went back to our couch, and little Harry crawled back onto my lap:

    "That was STRANGE, Dad. I understood everything Michail told me, but it was very difficult to find the right words to answer him in my own language.
"Then, my memories came back, and I remembered how to talk to him properly.
"Michail is like my second father. He reigned when my parents had to be somewhere else, and he always took care of me until they were back again.
"He has two little sons, Michi and Movi; but their mother died during childbirth. They are like my little brothers, but they were still way too young to have any real fun with..."

    He took a tissue and blew his nose in it, before going on:

    "Michail told me he cried after he heard that I was still alive and living in a foreign country.
"He didn't know that our caravan burnt down, but our Wise Woman had told him that my parents passed away and only I was alive...
"For two years, they searched for me everywhere; but they couldn't find me, until our lawyer sent them a fax with information about a little Gypsy Prince.
"Now, they are on their way to an airport, and my people will meet us here tomorrow morning around ten o'clock."

    John went to the kitchen; and returned with two glasses of cola, a cup of coffee, and the cookie jar.
I thanked him, while little Harry dived for the cookies.
Staring into space, our little Prince nibbled on them, now and then sipping his cola.
Obviously, he dwelled in the past, remembering his own people...

    With his mouth full and sipping his cola, he restarted his telling:

    "I think that my memories are back. I can almost smell our campfire and hear our violin players, playing beautiful music when we sat together on our wooden benches.
"We always went into our woods, to catch animals to eat, or to swim in our lake. I was their chief cook, and collected tasty herbs to spice the roasting animals.
"All of us were naked, except for when we visited a gadjo town to beg for food and money. There, we pitied the gadjo children, who had to wear their sweaty clothes all the time, even when it was too hot!
"The gadjo's didn't trust us Gypsies, and always chased us away. Only some grown-ups at the central market were a bit nicer.
"Sometimes, they offered us some money or food when we told them we were starving..."

    Little Harry kept on talking and talking, and he couldn't stop.
He told us all the details of what he remembered about his glowing mountains, the caravans, his parents, the festivities where he was dressed in a black-and-golden robe and sat next to his father.
He told us about the times when everybody was arrested; and when the camp was nearly empty except for the smallest children and a few elderly women.
With a proud face, he told us that he was the youngest Trained Trapper they ever had.
They allowed him to enter the woods alone from a very young age, because he always knew the way back home without ever getting lost.
He was one of the very few kids who ever caught a dangerous badger, with the help of his friend Misha.
His Mom made him a nice fur coat out of its skin, with a white stripe along its back...

    He talked non-stop, all the time remembering more and more details.
At last, John picked him up and put him down at the computer, to play one of Davey's borrowed games.
Fortunately, that helped.
Soon, they were busy, puzzling over how to avoid dangerous monsters and where to enter the next hidden cave.

    I asked them to be silent for a minute, because I wanted to use the phone.
First, I called the clinic, and excused myself for having an urgent family affair that prevented my son and me from showing up.
Fortunately, the surgeon was very understanding; and we made a new appointment, two days from now.

    Next, I phoned the airport, to ask what time tomorrow the flight from Rumania would arrive.
They reacted surprised, because their computer didn't show any flight from that country within the next few days...
Were they sure, because somebody told me they would arrive here by plane tomorrow morning?
Yes, absolutely! Their computer scanned every possible flight around the world, except for some private flights...

    I was puzzled. Could little Harry have misunderstood Michail?

    "Harry, are you sure about the day of arrival from Rumania? The airport doesn't know anything about a flight from that country..."

    "Yes, Dad. I am sure that Michail told me my people were already on their way to an airport, and they will arrive here tomorrow morning around ten o'clock."

    Still feeling puzzled, I decided to call my lawyer and ask him to sort this out.
I called him, and he promised to contact the Rumanian Gypsies again, with the help of his interpreter, and ask them about their time of arrival.

    Half an hour later, he called me back.
The Rumanian people were already on their way, by private charter flight, and they would arrive the next morning around nine o'clock.
They had ordered a big limousine, to be able to transport everybody to our house, hoping to arrive around ten o'clock.
They would bring their own interpreter, and politely asked me if I would allow their photographer to take a couple of pictures.
They would also bring all legal papers concerning little Harold and his deceased parents, but my lawyer didn't have any idea what that meant...
As far as he knew, there were three noblemen, one interpreter, one photographer, and one secretary on their way to our country.

    I thanked him for his help, and he promised again to join us the next day.
Now, we only had to wait...

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

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.

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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'