- Harry AnderS -
Dutch psychotherapist and alternative writer

The wonderful adventures of a little Gypsy boy

Born as a Prince 1
Book 1: Heir to the Throne
- by Harry AnderS -

A children's series of stories

http://www.harryanders.com
harry@harryanders.com

In book 1 'Heir to the Throne'; a little Gypsy boy narrates the story of his first five years in a secluded place in the Rumanian mountains, surrounded by huge woods and dense forests.
He is the Heir to the Throne, and soon he will be our Chief Cook(ie) and a Real Trapper...

Book 2 'Our Lucky Mascot' will follow; where he discovers the gadjo world outside, is imprisoned during a police raid, has his own little snow scooter, and finally travels to foreign countries...

Chapter 14 ended with:

    The snow melted away during the day; but, the next morning, more snow was swirling down, and winter seriously set in.
From now on, only the older and very experienced boys were allowed to enter our woods, always wearing homemade snowshoes.
They had to be very careful not to step into hidden potholes and snow-covered cracks, and the snow-clad mountains were way too dangerous and absolutely forbidden.

    As long as the snow wasn't falling too heavily, the grown-ups tried to get some work and earn some money in nearby gadjo towns.
Fortunately, Michail's big truck with attached snow chains was always able to reach the highway through the heavy snow.
Now and then, he left us and went to a gadjo market or shop, to get us something to eat or buy other necessary things.
We still had some money left from the begging, and tried to be as thrifty as we could be, without starving ourselves...

    One day, our technical man, Pietro, had been accompanying Michail to a gadjo town.
That evening, he brought a strange thing to our camp, and proudly let us have a look at it.
It looked like a heavy motorbike, but the weird vehicle hadn't got any visible wheels attached...
Pietro told us he found it on a dump, and wanted to try to repair it.
He called it a 'snow scooter', and the gadjo's seemed to use those things to ride across the snow in the mountains...

    I was glued to the thing, and desperately tried to understand how it worked.
Its front looked like a pair of small skis, but its back held a mysterious rubber band.
Pietro called the band a 'caterpillar', but it didn't look at all like a real caterpillar that turned into a butterfly at the end of its life...
What was the use of that strange rubber band?
I didn't have the faintest idea!

    Pietro attached a piece of rope to a small wheel, and pulled the rope a couple of times.
Suddenly, the caterpillar band stirred and moved around...
NOW, I understood how this strange vehicle was working!
That moving rubber band walked on the snow surface without sinking into it; and, with the skis in front, you could steer the scooter...
Wow, those gadjo's had to be really technical, to construct such a clever thing!
I hoped Pietro would be able to repair his snow scooter and ride on it.
This would be far better than walking on homemade snowshoes, or having snow chains attached to our cars.

    Two days later, I had learned quite a lot about two-stroke-engines, throttles, clogged nozzles, spark plugs, and a broken piston ring due to an overheated cylinder.
Pietro and I were working closely together, disassembling everything and repairing all the necessary parts.
Fortunately, Pietro had an enormous wooden box, filled to the brim with all sorts of technical junk!
Every time we needed something, we were able to find some replacement from the box.

    In the evenings, both of us were greased with oil, looking like real machinists.
We had to scrub each other thoroughly, using lots of yellow soap and hot water, to be presentable again.
Fortunately, my Mom didn't complain too much...

    Four days later, Pietro and I had put together all the cleaned and mended parts, with the exception of one large bolt we couldn't find.
Pietro thought it was not an essential thing; so we left its gap open, until we would be able to find another one...
We fastened all the other bolts carefully, and looked everything over for the last time; to be sure we hadn't forgotten anything important.

    Pietro handed me a small jerry can; and I tried to pour some fuel into the tank without spilling too much.
We attached a new starting cord, and Pietro held the scooter while I pulled the cord with all my force...
Suddenly, the engine coughed a couple of times, and spat out a dark cloud!
    Both of us started to cheer, and we looked at each other with beaming oil-smeared faces:

    "We DID it! There is life in the thing. Let's try it again."

    Again, Pietro held the scooter; and I pulled the starting cord, this time using both hands...
Immediately, the engine started to mumble and splutter...
Suddenly, it sounded like music, at least to my own ears.
Pietro turned the throttle a bit, and the sound cheered loudly.
He turned the throttle back, and the engine murmured softly.
We DID it.
We really did it!
Pietro stopped the engine; and I filled the fuel tank to the brim.

    By now, a whole bunch of grown-ups and children had gathered around our snow scooter, looking curiously at what we were doing.
They were uttering all sorts of comments and witty remarks, but we didn't care at all!
I closed the tank cap, Pietro mounted the saddle, and I pulled the starting cord again.
Immediately, the engine came to life and murmured softly, sounding like beautiful music in my ears.
I nearly got tears in my eyes, and had to wipe them away with an oil-smeared hand.
We had brought a seemingly dead thing back to life...

    I climbed onto the buddy seat, held on to Pietro's back, and told him:

    "Let’s go!"

    Pietro pulled the gear into forward, turned the throttle a bit, and our snow scooter started to move.
Pietro turned the throttle a bit more...
We heard a loud 'CLANG', felt a shock, and the engine stalled.
The sudden silence was deafening...

    The people around us were shaking their heads, while we left our now lifeless snow scooter.
What had happened to the engine?
Why did our snow scooter stop all of a sudden?
    Pietro started to curse, and kicked the poor thing a couple of times:

    "That's why they had thrown it away! It has a broken gear. Dammit!"

    I started to think, and tried to understand what could have happened...
What could have caused that sudden metallic clang sound near the engine?
The crankshaft had to turn a small sprocket around, and Pietro had already explained how the chain was connecting the engine to the caterpillar...
I pictured the whole thing in my mind, could clearly see how it should work, and now I was absolutely sure:
Only the moving chain could have caused that sudden clang sound!

    I crouched down, trying to look at where the chain disappeared into the engine...
Suddenly, I started to grin.
I had found the problem!
At the far end of the chain, I saw a large bolt, jammed in between the chain and the sprocket.
There was our missing bolt!
    I jumped up, and enthusiastically pulled at Pietro's arm:

    "Look, Pietro, I've found the bolt we missed! It's stuck in between the chain and that sprocket over there."

    Pietro started to laugh, and tenderly ruffled my hair with an oil covered hand:

    "Wow! You're the best mechanic engineer I've ever known! Not even five years old, and you're already repairing a snow scooter..."

    Working together, we disassembled the engine housing until we could reach the sprocket.
We fished the missing bolt out of its hiding place, and screwed it into the empty gap where it belonged.
That should be a lot better!
We reassembled the engine housing, and carefully looked everything over again.

    Again, Pietro mounted the scooter, and I pulled the starting cord.
The engine came to life immediately, and murmured softly.
Again, Pietro pulled the gear into forward and turned the throttle, this time a bit more hesitantly...
The caterpillar moved, and tried to pull the scooter forward.
Pietro turned the throttle a bit more, the engine started to roar, and the scooter jumped forward a couple of feet.
Yes! We DID it.
This time we REALLY did it!

    I jumped onto the buddy seat, and firmly held on to Pietro's back.
Pietro turned the throttle and off we went, while I cheered loudly to the roaring sound of the engine.
We had really brought a dead snow scooter back to life!

    At first, Pietro rode slowly; while he tried out the brakes, switched the gear, and tested the clutch a couple of times.
He let the engine roar a few times, until he was satisfied and knew that everything was working reliably and safely.
    Now, he turned his head towards me, and shouted:

    "Are you ready to hold on to me? I want to try her out."

    "Okay. Let's go!"

    I clamped myself onto his back with all my force; and he opened the throttle and let the engine roar.
We jumped forward, spraying a fountain of snow towards our onlookers.
They scolded and swiftly jumped out of the way...
I cheered loudly, and felt on cloud nine.
This was life!

    Pietro rode our snow scooter through the surroundings for a long time.
Now and then, I looked back, and saw our clearly visible trail outlined in the snow.
We crossed snowy valleys, slalomed around trees, and jumped little hills.
All the time, I had the time of my life and couldn't stop cheering!

    In a clearing, Pietro suddenly stopped, and switched the engine off.
He turned around, and looked at me with a questioning face:

    "Do you want to try her out yourself now?"

    What?... Really?...
REALLY?
I was allowed to ride our snow scooter, all by myself?
WOW...

    "Oh yes! Of course, I want to try her out!"

    I jumped off the buddy seat, and waited impatiently until Pietro had left our scooter...

    I mounted the saddle, and stretched my arms out to reach the handle bar.
Pietro climbed onto the buddy seat, reached down, and pulled the starting cord.
The engine started to murmur immediately.
I pulled the gear into forward, while Pietro carefully looked at what I was doing, ready to interfere if necessary.
I turned the throttle handle a bit, and our scooter started to move forward.
I WAS RIDING A REAL SNOW SCOOTER! Wow...

    Soon, I detected that I was too small to be able to enjoy riding our scooter...
I was sitting in an awkward position, with my arms outstretched to the maximum, and my too short legs dangling free.
Either I was too small, or our scooter was way too big for me!
Riding in a straight line was fun, but I wasn't able to steer properly in the curves without a lot of help from Pietro.

    After a while, we switched back to our original places.
I felt a bit disappointed, but fortunately not too much...
Pietro let our scooter roar and jump again, while we raced back to our camp.

    Whole bunches of jealous kids were waiting for us, and all of them wanted to have the next ride:

    "Now it's my turn! Come on, you have been riding long enough."

    "Yes, but... YOU didn't help Pietro with the repairing! Now, I think it’s a little bit MY snow scooter as well..."

    My friends looked a bit dejected, but they had to admit that I was right!
Pietro grinned, and let the first kid climb onto the buddy seat.
He rode him around the camp a few times, and returned to collect the next one.
One by one, all my friends had a ride on our scooter, and the fun of their lives.

    Finally, our snow scooter ran out of fuel and started to hiccup.
Pietro parked it at the back of his caravan, and went inside to wash himself.
The kids went home, and I followed them to my caravan.

    That evening, my Dad scrubbed me over and over; until at last, my skin looked a bright red instead of soiled:

    "Harry, Harry, I hope you are not going to make a living out of repairing old snow scooters?"

    "Of course not! Once I'm a King, my personal staff will do that for me."

    My Dad laughed at my joke, and playfully slapped my bare ass:

    "Have you ever seen MY personal staff in action?"

    "Well, I remember a certain police raid, where my Dad was escorted by several other cars..."

    "Sigh... will there ever be a time when you don't have an immediate answer ready?"

    I laughed, and stuck out my tongue.
My Dad dried me carefully, and we went to our living room.
    I climbed onto his lap, and asked him:

    "Dad, is there only one standard snow scooter, or could you buy larger or smaller ones?"

    "Well, once I saw a really small snow scooter, made especially for children."

    "That's the one I want to have! Could you buy me one, maybe as a birthday present?"

    "The scooter wasn't THAT small... so I think you will have to wait for another couple of years."

    I felt a bit disappointed, but didn't show it to my Dad.
It wasn't my Dad's fault that my little body was still too immature...
When would I finally have my 'growth spurt', as Misha once told me every kid is undergoing from time to time?
I was already nearly FIVE years old...

    The next day, Pietro attached two extra props onto the sides of our snow scooter.
Now, I could put my feet on them, so that I was able to sit more forward and steer properly.
That helped a lot.
From now on, I was able to steer our scooter around the trees without Pietro's help!

    Now and then, Pietro picked me up for a ride through our snowy valleys.
There, I let the engine roar, slalomed around trees, tried to jump little hills, and used my brakes to let the scooter spray huge fountains of snow.
Pietro was always sitting directly behind me, ready to intervene if necessary.
I was never allowed to ride on my own, albeit I knew I would enjoy it very much...
I knew that my parents had talked to Pietro, and he had promised them to take good care of me.
I never pushed him, and enjoyed every moment of our riding together.

    Now and then, a couple of other kids accompanied us to the snowy hills.
Pietro let them have a short ride too, but only after asking ME first.
Ultimately, it was OUR snow scooter, and we had put it together in unison!
He even called me 'my little mechanic engineer', and I was proud of my title.

    Of course, I granted my friends their little rides, but they had to admit that I was the best!
Nobody was able to make those huge fountains of snow, or perform those steep curves, by using the brakes and the throttle together.
I seemed to have a natural feeling for it; and, now and then, showed it off a little bit...

    Too soon, the snow started to melt away, and the valleys became too muddy.
Pietro put our snow scooter in one of our spare caravans, to wait for the next winter.
He promised us to keep it in good condition, until the next blanket of snow would show up.
All of us prayed it would be very soon!

************************************************************************************************************

Thank you for reading the next chapter of my story 'Born as a Prince 1'.
This is the first book of the series, called 'Heir to the Throne'. Many more books will follow...
Enjoy the reading, and help us make our world a better place!

Have a look at my OTHER story, about a retired psychotherapist taking the now eight years old and severely burnt little Gypsy boy into his house and raising him.
The story is on Nifty in adult-youth, contains NO sex, and is callled: 'Born to be a King'...

All my stories are on my own homepage as well: http://www.harryanders.com

I would LOVE to receive your comments...
Please, write me an email now and then.
Harry AnderS, Dutch psychotherapist and alternative writer.

harry@harryanders.com
http://www.harryanders.com