Time went by, and now little Harry had completely healed, with a nice and shiny skin on his face and body. His bruises were gone, he had slightly stuffed cheeks and a pretty pug nose, and he threw the remainder of his pills away. He was no longer tired and didn't have to rest any more. His green head with the mask now adorned his desk, accompanied by Teddicky, from where they both stared at you when you entered his room. He played outside nearly every day, and made a wagon load of new friends. Nicky and he were together most of the time. Some people even thought they had to be brothers...

One day they stormed into the house, both panting:

"Pop, Harry and I had a fight with another boy!"

They proudly showed me a few bruises, and little Harry's lower lip bled a bit. I asked them what happened, while cleaning little Harry's lip with a tissue.

They indignantly told me one of their newly found friends suddenly remarked:

"Fortunately that retarded creep seems to have disappeared from our neighborhood."

Little Harry slyly asked him:

"What creep do you mean?"

"You never saw him? A fool with two holes in his face where normal people have a nose, his lips curled when he laughed, and he had more colors on his face than that traveling circus clown. His father should have drowned him at his birth..."

At that moment Nicky kicked the boy in the nuts with all his force, while little Harry threw all his anger into a punch that sent the boy across the street. They left him without looking back, and immediately went to me.

"You should have seen him, Dad! He was at least three years older, but he couldn't defend himself!"

"Next time I will bring a baseball bat with me, and when he insults my friend again I will send him to a hospital!"

The doorbell rang, and I opened the front door where an angry woman glared at me, ready to attack:

"Your boys pummeled my poor little baby!"

I tried to smile at her, and extended my hand:

"Please, come in, and have a drink. How old is your poor little baby?"

"He's only eleven years old, nearly twelve. And I want you to punish the boys who attacked him!"

I turned around and beckoned them over:

"Harry, Nicky, come here, please..."

Two small boys timidly appeared in the doorway, looking at their feet. Little Harry sniffled a bit and put a blood covered tissue to his lower lip.

"There are your boys. They are both eight years old, and they told me another boy started to offend them..."

The woman stared at both boys with disbelief in her eyes:

"YOU attacked my poor little baby?"

"He insulted my friend, by calling him a creep who should have been drowned at his birth. Next time I will send him to a hospital!"

Nicky's eyes shot daggers and he balled his fists, ready to defend his friend with his life.

The woman shook her head and retreated, muttering:

"Boys... they're always up to some trouble..."

We went inside, and I closed the door.

I went to the couch in the living room and beckoned them over:

"Now you see what hatred can do. It starts with an insult, then you use violence, and a moment later we have a small war."

"But, POP, he insulted Harry! He told us Harry should have been drowned at his birth..."

"That boy used only WORDS, and words never can do any harm. Words are just a vibration in the air. It's not the words that do the harm; it's the following violence that starts the trouble!"
They had to think that over for a while; and both went to the computer, where they slowly wriggled into the same chair. There they sat, looking at the empty screen, not daring to start a game.

After a while a timid little Harry looked at me:

"Are you mad at us, Dad?"

"No, I'm not mad at you. Just a bit disappointed. You could have thought of a better solution... Think about that the next time, will you?"

They promised me to improve their behavior, and started a racing game on the computer.

At six o'clock Nicky went home after a big hug and a wet kiss, and little Harry seemed to be unusually silent. He didn't really eat, but merely stared at his plate and now and then pricked into a potato. After a few bites he shoved his plate away:

"I'm not hungry, Dad, am I excused?"

He went into the living room, and fell asleep on the couch. I cleared the kitchen table and took a cup of coffee with me to the living room, where I sat down on a chair so as not to disturb my little soul mate who seemed to be a bit restless.

John and Davey came by, and we talked in a soft voice about their future. They both wanted to study, and had decided to attend a technical college. John wanted to be a technical engineer, while Davey was more interested in mathematics. They asked me to help them choose a suitable college. After a while they went home, relieved, and asking me to greet little Harry when he woke up.

Little Harry was still restless, and now and then he moaned in his sleep. I put him under a blanket, and felt his forehead. He seemed to be a bit feverish, but not too much to be worried about. He woke up, shivered, and asked for a glass of water. He took a swig, turned around, and fell asleep again.

I kissed his forehead, and went to my computer to write the next chapter of my story 'Little Harry'.

At ten o'clock I called it a day and took Little Harry upstairs, still sound asleep in my arms. I washed him carefully and put him under the blankets, where he slowly opened his eyes, yawning and squinting at me:

"Where am I? Did you put me to bed?"

"What's the matter with you, my precious friend?"

"I don't know. I've a headache and my stomach hurts. I feel sleepy..."

He crawled into my arms and fell asleep again. This time he felt slightly more feverish, and I thought maybe he could have gotten the flu. I fell asleep, hoping a night's sleep would cure him.

In the middle of the night I woke up to the sound of a moaning little Harry. He was soaking wet now, felt very hot, and shivered all the time.

I clicked the lights on, and he looked at me with watery reddish eyes:

"Can't you chase that man away? I can't sleep while he's pestering me..."

I got dry sheets from the hallway cabinet and made him a drink with a dissolved aspirin, which he drank with a sour face:

"That tastes awful!"

I washed him again and carefully dried him. He crawled into my arms, moaning:

"That man is trying to take me with him..."

He became more and more restless, so I decided to call a doctor and ask his advice.

Our family doctor knew everything about little Harry's recent surgery. He asked me a few questions, and then decided to look at our little friend as soon as possible. Within twenty minutes he entered the house and immediately went upstairs.

He examined little Harry thoroughly, looked in his throat, listened to his lungs, took his temperature, and felt his lymph glands:

"I can't find anything alarming. Just keep him warm and let him drink lots of water. I'll leave a prescription to suppress his fever."

I thanked our doctor, who soon went home to resume his sleep. Then I tried to let little Harry drink a glass of water, and with some difficulty he managed to drink half of it, still shivering and softly moaning about a man.

We tried to get some more sleep, but every ten minutes my little boy woke up and started to moan again, complaining about a man who was annoying him.

The remainder of the night was a real nightmare. Little Harry kept on moaning and thrashing around, looking into space with watery eyes, and talking about a man who was bothering him all the time. In the morning he eventually fell into a restless sleep, dead tired and sweating all over his body.

The doorbell woke me up, and unfortunately little Harry woke up too. He started to thrash around again, still soaking wet.

I dressed in a hurry and went downstairs, to let a bright and shining Nicky enter the house:

"Where's Harry? I want us to shower together..."

"Harry's ill. He has a fever, and he's still in bed."

"Does he have the flu? May I see him?"

"Yes, you may see him; but don't wake him up if he's asleep!"

Nicky went upstairs, while I heartily yawned and brewed myself my first cup of strong coffee.

Soon Nicky returned, with a worried face:

"Harry's really sick! He's moaning all the time... Did you call a doctor?"

"Yes, I've called our family doctor in the middle of the night. He has left a prescription to suppress the fever. Could you stay with your friend for a while, until I'm back from the pharmacy?"

"Yes, of course I'll stay. You can always count on me!"

He climbed the stairs with a proud face, very aware of his responsibility.

I drove our van to the pharmacy, where they handed me a box of pills. I paid them, returned, and parked the van in our driveway.

I opened the front door, and Nicky stormed downstairs, panting:

"Pop, Harry has vomited two times, and he stinks!"

I hurried upstairs; where I found my little soul mate crying, the bed stained with vomit, and the air soiled with a nasty smell. Nicky opened a window, while I tried to clean up my poor boy. Everything was dirty. He had vomited all over the bed, and had a watery diarrhea.

I sent Nicky downstairs, to get more tissues to clean him up a bit before I took him to the shower. Then I took my stinking boy in my arms, while a helpful Nicky adjusted the water temperature. Together we washed him, carefully dried him, and parked him in a blanket on a chair.

Nicky helped me to change the sheets, while we both held our breaths until we had put the stained sheets in the washing machine and turned it on. We got clean sheets from the hallway cabinet, and together we put our little friend to bed again.

Little Harry was very pale now, shivering and moaning, again talking about a nasty man who was bothering him all the time.

"Nicky, I want to call our family doctor for the second time, while you are here to help your friend if necessary."

"You can count on me, Pop!"

I went downstairs, to call our doctor for the second time. When I returned, Nicky sat on a corner of the bed, holding little Harry's hand.

I decided to ask Nicky a few questions about little Harry's strange idea:

"Nicky, do you know about a man who has been bothering Harry? Maybe yesterday, while you were playing outside?"

"No, we've only met a couple of children. However, when Jason had a nasty flu he talked nonsense too. My Dad called it 'delirium'."

The doorbell rang, and Nicky hurried downstairs to open the front door. He politely guided our doctor upstairs. I offered him a chair to sit down, and told him everything about our restless night and little Harry's vomiting and watery diarrhea.

"I still think he's gotten a nasty virus. Only his temperature seems a bit too high now. Did he complain about pain in his body somewhere?"

"No, but yesterday he complained about a headache and pain in his stomach."

Little Harry had to sit upright, and the doctor looked him all over, even more thoroughly than last night:

"May I use your phone? I would like to call the clinic to ask their advice, just to be sure..."

A proud looking Nicky politely guided our doctor downstairs, while I tried to reassure my softly sobbing little soul mate.

Soon our doctor returned, with Nicky in his footprints:

"The surgeon wants to speak with you..."

I went downstairs and greeted our 'face doctor', who immediately started to ask a couple of questions:

"Did our little friend complain about a severe fatigue?"

"Only during the first days. After that time he always played outdoors with a couple of friends, and never complained."

"That's a good sign. Did you see something abnormal on his body, like blue spots or sudden bruises?"

"No, he has a beautiful smooth skin all over his body now. He healed wonderfully."

"That's good. Has he spots on his body that are itchy, or sensitive?"

"Only the first days. After that time I never heard him complain. He even threw his pills away."

"Wonderful. Your house doctor examined him thoroughly, and he couldn't find anything suspect either. Of course there's always a small chance his body will reject the transplants. That's why we will send a nurse to you today, who will take a few blood, skin, and urine samples, just to be sure. I instructed your doctor to administer a sedative, to put him asleep for a while. Could you put a diaper on him? It's possible he will soil the blankets again while he's asleep."

"I will buy him a couple of diapers. Is there anything else I can do for him?"

"Don't let him eat today, but he should drink as much as possible. And please keep me informed!"

"Thank you for your advice. And yes, I certainly will keep you informed."

I returned to my bedroom, where in the meantime our doctor had put little Harry to sleep with a small injection.

"Nicky, please will you buy us a packet of diapers, to protect our friend from soiling the bed again?"

I handed Nicky some money; and he hurried downstairs, nearly skipping, followed by our family doctor who promised to pay us another visit the next day.

I sat down and looked at my little soul mate with his pale face and his swollen eyelids, now softly snoring. What was the trouble with him? And who was that strange 'man' that bothered him so much? I was still sleepy, and slowly drifted off.

Suddenly I saw Jack, standing in a bright white light, and I heard his voice in my head:

"He's a fighter, and he will come through. We will protect him..."

In a shock I woke up. Protect him? From what? Why did my little soul mate have to fight, and whom? That nasty man he was complaining about all the time? Who was that man, and how could I help or protect him against a stranger I didn't even see?

The doorbell rang, and I rushed downstairs. I let Nicky in, proudly carrying a big packet of diapers. We went upstairs, and carefully put diapers on our softly snoring friend, who fortunately didn't wake up.

Nicky looked at me, now very sad:

"We always teased him about buying him diapers, Pop. And now we really have to buy him diapers..."

I sighed and ruffled his hair. I felt more and more attached to this helpful little boy, with his open face and intelligent green eyes. Together we went to the living room, leaving all doors open so we could hear our poor little friend, in case he woke up.

"Thank you, Nicker, for assisting me with all those things. You are a wonderful help today!"

"That's okay, Pop. Harry is my friend, and of course I will always help him and you with everything. I like you calling me 'Nicker'. So far Jason was the only one who sometimes called me that, or 'little dragon' because of our green eyes. We called him the 'chasing dragon' and I was the 'nickering dragon', while Carl was the 'curling dragon'. Until my father kicked Carl out of the house, and Jason suddenly became a 'bullying dragon'..."

The door bell rang again, and Nicky went to the front door. He returned with Davey, who was curious about little Harry's sudden sleepiness. I told him what had happened to our poor little friend, and allowed him to have a look at the hopefully still sleeping boy.

After a moment Davey returned, looking a bit nervous:

"Dad, there's something strange around Harry. I'm not absolutely sure, but it's as if I can feel a nasty person around him, trying to harm him. Perhaps I'm making it up in my mind, but it's as if I really can see him. He looks like a heavy built and strong man with a shaggy beard, and he has a mean look in his eyes. I think he's making Harry very ill..."

Nicky looked up, with sudden comprehension in his eyes:

"Harry was talking about a man who was annoying him all the time. He asked me to chase him away, but I didn't know what he was talking about..."

I was totally aghast. So this had to be true... little Harry saw him, Davey felt him, and Jack promised to protect little Harry against him...

I grew angry. That shaggy bearded man had to keep his hands off my little soul mate! I went to the hallway and ascended the stairs, determined to know what was happening; closely followed by two worried boys.

We entered my bedroom, where little Harry was sound asleep, softly snoring. He looked a little bit better now, with less swollen eyelids and slightly more color on his face. I went to the bed, sat down onto a corner, and tried to feel around...

Where was that man? In my mind I dared him to show up, but nothing happened. Now I felt disappointed. I could have murdered him! Murder a ghost?

"Davey, can you still feel that man around?"
"No, Dad, I think he's gone. Who was it? Do you know him? Can't you tell him to leave Harry alone?"

Suddenly the room went icy cold, as if it was midwinter and someone had opened all the windows. A heavy built and shaggy man with a rough beard approached me, looking at me with hatred in his eyes.

I clearly heard his nasty and grating voice in my head:

"Once you got MY boy, and now I will get YOUR boy! An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth."

The room started to turn around, and everything went black...

I was a nasty man myself, stealing innocent children to sell them to rich people. A crying man approached my coach, begging me to give him his little boy back; but I derided him and kicked him off the footboard. He fell, and severely bruised his hip, preventing him from following me. I whipped my horse and drove off, leaving him on the street crying his heart out. I felt a little bit guilty, but suppressed my feelings. Today I had earned a lot of money!

The world started to turn around again, and I returned into the room. I fell off the corner of the bed with a loud bang, and severely bruised my left hip.

I started to tremble all over my body; and tried to squint at two very worried boys, who desperately tried to wake me up:

"Pop, what happened to you? Please, don't die..."

I tried to get up; but groaned, feeling an intense pain in my left hip. After a while I carefully lifted myself onto the bed, helped by the boys.

"Thank you, boys, just give me a minute. I think I've injured my hip, and I feel a bit giddy."

Nicky brought me a glass of water; while Davey tried to support me, obviously afraid I would fall off the bed again.

"All of a sudden the room went icy cold, Dad. Then your eyes turned around in your head, and you fell off the bed with a bang."

I looked at Nicky and Davey, both trembling with fear; and at little Harry, softly snoring under the blankets... Was this all for REAL? I could hardly have made this up myself... Still trembling all over, I limped down to phone Christian, our psychic medium.

I looked in all the drawers and the cupboards, and eventually I found his business card with his phone number. Maybe Christian knew what I should do now, to protect myself and my little soul mate from that man? I dialed his number, and waited and waited, but nobody answered the phone...

I slumped down on the couch, with my head in my hands, accompanied by two still trembling and very worried looking boys. Was it really MY fault little Harry was ill? Was this what people call 'Karma', meaning you will have to make up for what you did to others in your past lives? Did I once steal that man's son, and now he tried to steal my son in revenge?

Where was our spirit friend Jack? "JACK..."

I tried to call him in my head, but nobody answered. Now I started to panic. What if that man really could take little Harry away from me, like I once took his little boy away from him? An eye for an eye...

The doorbell rang, and both boys rushed to the door. They returned with a smiling nurse, carrying a small suitcase:

"I would like to take a few blood and urine samples from our little friend with his beautiful new face."

We went upstairs, me still limping; and the nurse prepared a few things:

"Please will you try to wake the boy up now, and have him urinate in this bottle?"

I removed little Harry's diapers, and tried to wake him up. After a few efforts he slowly opened his eyes and yawned:

"What's the time? I want to sleep some more..."

"I want you to pee in this bottle, to help the friendly nurse over there."

Little Harry squinted at her, colored a deep red, and covered his boyhood with his hands:

"I don't want her to look..."

She winked at him and left the room. Little Harry nearly fell asleep again, but fortunately managed to produce a few drops:

"I'm too sleepy..."

He fell down onto the bed, and was sound asleep again.

I reattached his diapers and covered him with the blankets. The nurse laughed and freed his arm. She attached a tourniquet to his upper arm and put a needle into a vein, causing a slight wince from little Harry, but he didn't wake up. She drew three small samples of blood, and attached a band-aid to the small wound. Then she cleaned a spot on his upper arm, took a small machine from her suitcase, and put it onto the spot. She pushed a button:

"OUCH!" little Harry shouted and jumped up.

But the nurse had her skin sample. She asked him to forgive her, and attached a second band-aid to the new wound, while little Harry fell asleep again. She put the sample into a small plastic container in her suitcase.

I offered her a cup of coffee in the kitchen, while the boys took a glass of cola. She told us the laboratory would test the samples the moment they arrived, to be early in case something was wrong. After a few minutes she took her suitcase and the samples with her, and the boys accompanied her to the door. She waved at them, and drove off to the clinic.

"That was a nasty vampire machine, Dad! It snapped a piece of skin out of Harry's arm, just like that..."

The doorbell rang, and John arrived, with a look of concern in his eyes:

"Dad, how's Harry? Is he feeling better now?"

We told him everything. He immediately went upstairs, to have a look at his little brother, and to look for that nasty man that dared to bother him.

After a few minutes he returned:

"Harry is sound asleep, and I didn't feel anything around him. Maybe you made it up in your mind?"

Davey, Nicky, and I reassured him that really something inexplicable had happened. I lowered my pants to show him my painfully bruised hip.

"That's a nasty bruise you've got there! Well... then I suppose you're right. But I didn't feel anything unusual around Harry while I was upstairs. Do you have something to eat, Dad? I'm starved..."

I was hungry too, so we prepared sandwiches, with lots of salad and other healthy vegetables.

After a while John and Davey went away together, promising me to be back later. Nicky and I went upstairs, to have another look at little Harry.

He seemed to recover, and had slightly more color on his face. I kissed his forehead, while Nicky laid down next to him and tenderly hugged his poor friend. Little Harry immediately put his arms around Nicky; still sound asleep, and with a blissful smile on his face.

"I think we are in love with each other, Dad, but we're too young to be homo's."

I didn't say a word, but ruffled his hair and tenderly kissed his nose.

After a while we went back to the couch, where Nicky crawled onto my lap:

"I love you, Pop. Now I have two dads; one Dad at home and one Dad here. My own Dad is much nicer now, he even calls me 'Nicker' sometimes, a thing he never did before. I'm allowed to sleep in his bed, and we cuddle a lot, just like with you. I think I'm a lucky boy."

"I think I'm a lucky man, to have you as a friend! You're a wonderful boy, always helpful, and with a lot of love in your heart."

We cuddled for quite a while. Now and then one of us went upstairs, to have a look at little Harry who still softly snored.

The phone rang, and Nicky hopped off my lap. I answered the phone and listened:

"We've looked at all the samples the nurse took from your boy this morning, and all seems to be well. Fortunately here are no signs of skin rejection. We couldn't detect any viruses, but his lymphocytes count was a bit too high. That means there could have been a bacterial infection, so we will ask your family doctor to have a close look at him for a couple of days. There's nothing to be worried about."

"Thank you very much! That's quite a relief. Is there something else I could do for my boy?"

"Just let him drink as much water as possible, and let him eat easily digestible nutrition for a few days. That's all."

I thanked our 'face doctor' for his help, and put the receiver back.

Nicky and I both heard a faint "Dad..." sounding from the stairway. We jumped up and hurried upstairs.

Little Harry sat upright in bed, with a remorseful sleepy face:

"Sorry, Dad, but I think I've soiled the bed again..."

I threw the blankets off, and little Harry looked down at his diapers with disbelief in his eyes:

"Why am I wearing a DIAPER?"

"Sorry, son, but you were very sick. You threw up and soiled the sheets, and you got nasty diarrhea, so we provided you with diapers to be prepared for the next time. And the next time seems to be now..."

"I don't remember anything... but I feel sleepy and hungry. Could you get me something to eat?"

"Nicky, do you want to cook some porridge for your friend? Oatmeal's in the kitchen cabinets, and milk's in the refrigerator."

"Of course, Pop. At home I cook it every Sunday morning, with sugar and lots of melted butter."

Nicky hurried downstairs with a proud face, to cook for his friend. I carefully cleaned little Harry, threw his soiled diapers away, and washed him all over.

He threw his arms around my neck and shivered:

"I'm tired, Dad, and I feel like trembling all over."

"I know, son. Take it easy for a couple of days, and allow your body to strengthen. You will soon feel better."

I changed the sheets for the third time, and put my precious son under the blankets.

He started to shiver again, with perspiration on his forehead:

"I'm thirsty..."

I brought him a glass of water, and he gulped it down, coughing:

"Another glass, please..."

Nicky returned with a filled tray, and put it down on the bed:

"I hope there are no chunks in it, and do you want butter and sugar?"

"Yes, please, melted butter and lots of sugar!"

We were relieved to see little Harry wolfing his porridge. This certainly was a good sign.

"Thanks, Nick and Dad, but now I want to sleep. I'm still feeling tired..."

He turned around, and almost immediately fell asleep. I placed the bowl back onto the tray and took it with me. Together we went downstairs and into the kitchen, where I washed the dishes and Nicky put the rest of the oatmeal and the milk away. We went to the couch and sat down, with all the doors opened to be able to hear little Harry, in case he woke up and needed us.

"I'm pleased that Harry feels better now, Pop! I was really worried about him..."

I held Nicky for another while, marveling in the feeling of being befriended with, and by, such a wonderful and helpful child. At last he got bored and hopped off my lap, to start a game on the computer.

The remainder of the day passed by uneventfully. After a while little Harry woke up and wanted to have company. Nicky and he played a few games, but soon he was too tired and wanted to rest for another while. In the meantime I sat at my computer and worked on my story 'Little Harry'.

Nicky had dinner with us, and left at eight o'clock to do some chores at home. He promised to be back the next day. At nine-thirty I called it a day and went to bed, where my little soul mate already softly snored. He shifted into my arms without waking up, and I fell asleep, tired of all the events.

At eleven-thirty I woke up at the sounds of a moaning little Harry, thrashing around and fighting something invisible:

"Noooo, go away! Leave me alone! I don't want to go with you. DAD..."

I clicked the lights on, and looked at my little soul mate. He was soaking wet now, and stared into space with bulging eyes:

"Dad, please, chase that man away. He wants to take me with him..."

Again I heard that nasty and grating voice in my head:

"I will never let him go. He's MINE now..."

I cursed, carefully wrapped little Harry in a blanket, and took him with me downstairs. I sat him on my lap and took the phone to call Christian.

Within twenty seconds I heard his voice:

"Hello? This is Christian. Do you know what time it is..."

Never in my life had I been so grateful. I told Christian everything, and he listened without interrupting. When I was done, he said only one thing:

"I'm on my way."

I put little Harry down onto a chair, and went to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee for Christian and me. Ten minutes later the doorbell rang. A sleepy-looking Christian entered the house and went straight to the living room, where he took a chair next to little Harry:

"Hello, my precious friend. Now please tell me exactly what's happening to you."

"There's a man around me, who's bothering me all the time. He wants me to go with him, but I want to be here with my Dad. Now he's threatening me..."

Christian nodded, tilted his head, seemed to listen to somebody, and nodded again:

"Together we're going to free that poor man from all his hatred."

He turned his chair around, to face little Harry:

"Please put your hands into mine. And you, sir, please stand behind your son, and put your hands on his shoulders."

I did as he asked. Suddenly the room went icy cold. I got goose bumps all over my body, and started to panic.

"Don't be afraid, and be there for your little boy. Now send that poor man all the love you can muster. You know how to do it."

I tried to send that nasty man my love, and suddenly I could clearly see him. He was heavy built, with a shaggy beard, and looking very surprised. He clearly didn’t expect we would send him our love! Ten seconds later I felt Jack, putting his hands onto my shoulders. I felt an intense stream of power surging through my arms to my little soul mate, and through him to the man. For a moment the man tried to resist all that love, but then he broke down and started to sob. Jack approached him and took him into his arms. Together they went to a bright white light, where many other spirits and even angels embraced them.

The vision vanished, and at the same time the room got warmer. Everything around us started to feel at peace and in harmony.

Christian looked at us and smiled:

"That's the power of love. Today you had to learn to love everybody, even your worst enemy. Now I could use a cup of coffee before I go home."

He took little Harry onto his lap, while I went to the kitchen to get the coffee and a glass of cold water for my boy. Through the open door I heard Christian speak to little Harry, trying to explain what had happened:

"That man is taken to the Light, where he will learn to turn his hatred into love and be in peace with himself. He will never again bother you. Next time you know what to do yourself. Never fight an attacker, but send as much love as you can muster, that's all you have to do. Love is the strongest force in the universe. Always remember that! Nobody can ever harm you when you ARE love."

We drank our coffee, and I thanked Christian for his help. He smiled, and went home, yawning.

I switched the TV on, to break the tension. Little Harry scanned the channels, and suddenly there was a Gypsy boy who sang a sad but beautiful song about his own people. The boy sang his heart out, supported by an orchestra of pleading violins. Little Harry's hand wormed into mine, and in awe we listened to the heartbreaking music. To OUR own music...

Until a commercial block popped up, loudly praising something nobody really needed, with a feigning happy voice. It felt like cursing. Little Harry promptly switched the TV off, furtively wiping his eyes.

I took my boy with me upstairs, and we went to bed. He curled up in my arms and yawned, suddenly grinning:

"I love you, Dad. And now even you can't ever harm me..."

I got tears in my eyes, and nearly crushed him...

30. Again the graveyard, and a couple of emails.

I woke up, and looked into two bright and deep blue eyes. Fascinating eyes, that radiated intelligence, strength, and love, all in one. I nearly drowned in them.

Little Harry had positioned himself on top of me, looking in my eyes with a big grin:

"I thought you would never wake up."

"Why would you think such a stupid thing?"

"I'm TEASING you, silly!"

"Oh... now wait a moment!"

I tickled his ribs, carefully not to bruise them; and he squealed with joy, trying to tickle me back. Of course I let him win; and he proudly straddled my chest, pinning my arms to the bed:

"I've got your body, your heart, and your soul!"

"You can be sure of that!"

"You're crazy. But now I'm hungry and I have been sick, so today you have to bring me breakfast in bed. Come on, on the double!"

I grinned and ruffled his hair, feeling RICH with my little soul mate. After another long cuddle I left the bed and went downstairs.

How did my little soul mate do that, with those herbs? I went to the backyard, trying to remember which herbs he used to put in his tasty scrambled eggs. I returned with a couple of herbs that smelled good, carefully washed them, and sliced them into small pieces as I had seen little Harry do. I added pepper, salt, and a few drops of hot sauce. I mixed everything together with a little bit of milk and the eggs. After heating a buttered saucepan, I threw the mixture into the pan and carefully stirred everything with a spatula. I tasted the product of my cooking... Hmm, not too bad. Something was missing, the flavor that caressed your nostrils when little Harry made it, but I didn't know what it was.

I put everything onto a tray; and went back to my boy, who looked at me from under the blankets with a witty smile:

"That smells good, Dad... but how does it taste?"

He took a piece of toast, scooped scrambled eggs on it, and tasted...

"You used too much oregano, and I miss a pinch of garlic powder. But it's not too bad for the dirty old man you are..."

Yeah, well... next time I will GET him for that!

After the meal we showered, dressed, and went downstairs with little Harry sitting on my shoulders.

I cleared the tray in the kitchen, while little Harry climbed onto the sideboard and put all the things away:

"I want to look at my new gravestone, Dad. Could we go there today? And this time I want John, Davey, and Nicky to be with us."

"Are you sure you want all of them to accompany you to the graveyard?"

"You don't really trust me, isn't it, Dad?" little Harry asked me, with fun lights in his eyes.

"You are teasing me! You know better than that. Now go get them; our van is big enough."

Little Harry grinned, and started to put his shoes on. Suddenly the doorbell rang.

He rushed to the front door, and returned with Nicky, bumping shoulders:

"We want to go to the graveyard where my parents are buried, to have a look at my... oops, at THEIR new gravestone. You're going with us?"

"Of course I'm going with you! I'm allowed to be here for the whole day. How's your illness? Yesterday you were really sick!"

"That Christian dude chased a spirit away that tried to get me. Now I feel much better!"

"HARRY! In our house we never speak about a grown-up as a 'dude'. Here we are respectful about others!"

"Sorry, Dad. I got that from one of my new friends."

Little Harry and Nicky went outside to gather the rest of our flock, while I searched for my wallet and my keys. Soon John and Davey appeared, with John still combing his hair and looking sleepy. We went to our van, where the boys arranged the seats so they all could look outside.

Little Harry took one of the pillows to sit on, and offered the second pillow to Nicky:

"Thank you, that's a good idea! Now I can look outside without stretching my neck."

We drove off, and I scanned the stereo for nice music. Our song didn't pop up this time.

Within twenty minutes we saw the church, and little Harry pointed to the parking lot:

"There it is! We have to park our van here, and walk to the graveyard at the end of that narrow street."

I parked our van in an empty space. The boys left the van and looked around, obviously rather touched by the quietness of the surroundings. Little Harry took my left hand, and Nicky took my right hand. John and Davey put their arms around each other's shoulders and followed us at a small distance.

We walked through the meadows to the skewed weeping willows that surrounded the graveyard. Little Harry and Nicky both pushed the huge iron gate, that slowly opened with a squeaking sound. Respectfully and in silence we entered the graveyard.

All the bravery left little Harry; and he clamped my hand, trembling:

"Dad, what if they didn't put my stone on their grave?"

I sent him my love, and pushed him forward:

"Let's go and find out."

We walked towards the big oak trees at the end of the yard, where little Harry suddenly jumped up and exclaimed:

"Look, Dad, they DID put my new stone on their grave!"

The boys started to run, followed by me at a lower pace. In awe we looked at what certainly was the nicest looking gravestone in the whole graveyard. A beautiful brownish marble stone was set upright at the end of the grave. Thousands of little marble crystals sparkled in the sunlight. The names of little Harry's parents were chiseled into the stone and coated with gold.

Little Harry leaned into me and started to sob:

"It's so beautiful..."

We sat down, little Harry and I with our backs against our old oak tree, the other boys against other trees close by. In silence we enjoyed the quietness and the peaceful harmony of the surroundings. Butterflies were gathering nectar from the many flowers; small birds had built their nests in the surrounding trees.

After a while the sacristan of the church approached us, smiling:

"Good afternoon, gentlemen, it's a beautiful day today, isn't it? As you can see, the new stone has arrived. But where's your son, that poor boy with his burnt face? He was so happy when he eventually discovered the grave of his parents... Couldn't he be with you today?"

Little Harry looked at him, utterly surprised:

"That's ME. Don't you recognize me?"

The sacristan looked at him with disbelief in his eyes:

"You? But... then a miracle has happened! I recognize your voice, but you have a totally different face..."

"The doctors put a new skin on my face. They modeled a new nose and mended my lips. Even my best friends didn’t recognize me at first."

"Well, your doctors did a wonderful job! Now you look like every other boy of your age. May I congratulate you with your beautiful new face?"

The sacristan retreated respectfully and went back to his church.

Little Harry looked at the grave with a frown on his forehead:

"Dad, I want to put a couple of herbs from my garden on their grave. I think there's a good place for lavender flowers, and here in the corner I could put a couple of roses, and in the middle I want..."

He started to add a whole bunch of vegetation and bushes, and I warned him not to overdo it. At home he should first draw a sketch of what he had in mind. Then we would see where everything fitted...

We sat down for a long time, until at last the boys became too restless and started to fidget. We formed a circle around the grave, holding hands; and I thanked little Harry's parents for parenting such a marvelous child. Little Harry blushed and got tears in his eyes.

Each of us greeted little Harry's parents in our own way, and in silence we left the grave.

We went to the church, to thank the sacristan. He was very pleased to see us, and surprised us with coffee for me and hot chocolate milk for the boys. Only John politely asked for hot milk without the chocolate. After a while the sacristan let us see the church, where we admired all the old sculptures. Then each of us looked down onto the others from the pulpit, and pretended to be the pastor for a moment. Little Harry spread his arms and blessed the congregation, sermonizing about love and trust. We could feel he really meant it!

The sacristan took us downstairs to the cellars and the catacombs, but the boys didn't like the musty smell and soon hurried upstairs for fresh air. We thanked the nice sacristan, and promised to visit him again. Little Harry hugged him and thanked him on behalf of his parents.

With a feeling of satisfaction we went to our van, where we decided to repeat the fun day at the amusement park, but now accompanied by little Harry.

Twenty minutes later I parked our van in the parking lot of the amusement park. Soon the boys were building a fort out of wooden boards, they rammed each other in small electric cars, they fished for small knickknacks, and they enjoyed every moment of their being there, this time including little Harry.

Exhausted but satisfied we eventually went home, on the way devouring lots of delicious fattening junk food and drinking gallons of carbonated colored sugar water, until we were stuffed to the brim and continued our way home.

Little Harry looked totally exhausted now, but his eyes beamed:

"Thank you, Dad, this was the most wonderful day of my life! I'm so lucky to be with you and all my friends!"

He put his seat into a sleeping position, closed his eyes, and fell asleep. John got a blanket from the back, and carefully draped it over his little brother.

Nicky put his seat next to little Harry and watched over him:

"Look out, Pop, don't use your brakes too hard..."

I parked our van in the driveway and carefully took little Harry in my arms, while John fished the keys out of my pocket and opened the front door. We went upstairs, where I laid my exhausted boy down onto the bed. He didn't wake up, but curled into a ball and slept on, with a smile of content on his face.

Nicky crept onto the bed, next to his friend:

"I am tired too. May I stay with Harry for a while?"

I nodded, and he draped his arms around his friend. Immediately little Harry uncurled, and within a second they were totally entangled.

I enjoyed the beautiful sight for a while, until both boys started to snore. Slowly, I went downstairs, feeling rich.

In the living room John and Davey were hatching new electric inventions on a piece of paper:

"Is Harry asleep, Dad? He looked rather tired, and I bet Nicky is sleeping too. May we use the garage for a while, until we have to go home?"

They went to the garage, and I sat down at the computer to work on my book 'Little Harry'.

Soon I disappeared into the storyline, until John and Davey had to go home:

"Goodnight, Dad, this time your fuses survived our experiments. We will be back tomorrow, but first we have to do some chores."

They kissed me, and we cuddled for a moment:

"Give Harry and Nicky a hug from me when they wake up."

"From me too."

They went home with their arms around each other's shoulders, and I went back to the computer and my story 'Little Harry'.

At ten o'clock my phone rang, and I answered it:

"BJ here. Is my youngest son with you? He's sleeping? Okay, I'll see him back sometime tomorrow. Take care of yourself!"

I decided to call it a day, and went upstairs to have a nice hot shower. I undressed and adjusted the water temperature.

Suddenly a sleepy face with green eyes peeked at me:

"What's the time, Pop? I think I have to go home now..."

"Your father already phoned me, and tonight you are sleeping here. That is, if that's what you want."

"Of course that's what I want! May I join you in the shower? I'll try to wake Harry up."

A moment later two sleepy boys joined me in the shower. They were too tired, so I washed and dried them. Together we went to my bedroom and crawled under the blankets. Little Harry claimed his usual place on my stomach, and Nicky crawled onto my right side. Soon we were sound asleep.

The next morning we woke up together, being bright and shining. We romped around for a while, dressed, and went downstairs to eat breakfast. Little Harry and Nicky started to play with a few of little Harry's clinic presents, and I went to my computer to work on my story 'Little Harry'.

I switched the computer on, and as usual checked my email first. I got lots of the usual spam, and an email from our Gypsy people in Rumania. They asked us how Harold's surgery went, and when could we travel to Rumania to pay them a visit?

"Look, Harry and Nicky, we've got an email from our friends in Rumania!"

I wrote them back, telling them about all the things their little prince went through during the last several weeks; assisted by my little soul mate and Nicky, who worked together to help me remember even the faintest details.

When I was done writing them a long email with everything we could think of, little Harry leaned into me:

"Now I want to write them something myself, Dad, but I don't know how to spell it in my own language..."

"You could try to write something in our language, send it, and ask their interpreter to translate it to your people?"
"That's a good idea, Dad! May I use the keyboard now? After I'm done you can help me correct the errors."

I rose from my chair, and little Harry sat down in front of the computer, with beaming eyes. Soon his small fingers tried to find their way on the keyboard, searching for the right keys, while he concentrated with a deep frown on his face.

Nicky and I went to the kitchen, and returned with a cup of coffee and two glasses of orange juice. Little Harry swallowed his drink without looking up, deep in a trance. We left him alone, and went to the porch with my coffee and Nicky's orange juice:

"When are you going to those gypsies, Pop? Are you driving the van, or are you going by airplane? Are John or Davey going with you? And... err... please, may I go with you too? I have never been in a foreign country before..."

"Let's first send them our email, and wait for their answer. Then we will know what they have in mind..."

After a long time little Harry appeared in the doorway, with a heated face and squinting in the sudden sunlight:

"I've finished my message to my people, Dad. Will you have a look at it, and send it to them?"

We went back to the computer and looked at a very long email, filled with all the details about our visit to the graveyard and our conversations with Jack and his spirit friends. Three or four times my little soul mate stated how much he loved me, and how grateful he was to have a new face. I read his email with tears in my eyes. It was obvious he never attended school... but I marveled at how my clever boy succeeded in writing all those difficult words phonetically!

"I luve Dad very mutsj, and I also luve my best frend Nicky. I tink you wil luve him to and I tink he is ho our Wize Woman spook about Nicky. I want Nicky to go wit us, and I want you to axept him as wan of our pieple to. It is wonderful tat we are al relatted to eatsj odder!"

I kissed his forehead; and decided to send his message as it was, with all the oddities, hoping the translator wouldn't have too much difficulty in reading it.

I lifted my boy from the chair, took him onto my knee, and scanned a recent picture of him, to show his people how he looked with his new face. I attached it to the mail, little Harry clicked the 'send' button with a proud face, and now our email was on it's way to Rumania...

Nicky looked at little Harry, with a questioning face:

"Who's that 'best frend Nicky' you wrote about? Do I know him?"

"That's you, Dad's eldest son and our heir to the throne. But that's a long time ago..."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

We told Nicky everything about little Prince Harold's people visiting us, about what they told us, and what we remembered of our past lives.

Nicky listened, open-mouthed, and with beaming eyes:

"So, once, a long time ago, you were a Gypsy leader in Rumania, and I was your son. And after a while I became a Gypsy leader myself? WOW! Now I want to go with you to Rumania for sure! I want to see my own people."

He looked at little Harry with a smug face:

"From now on you have to call me 'King Nicky the Dragon', because I am a King, and you are only a prince."

"In your dreams!" little Prince Harold answered, looking offended.

He poked King Nicky in the ribs, and Nicky poked him back; until I separated them:

"If you want to be a king, or a prince, you better start to behave royally!"

They laughed and both started to tickle me, until I pretended to fall off my chair.

I let them win, and they pinned my arms to the ground, grinning:

"Now we want your body, your heart, and your soul!"

"You already have all three of them!"

"You're crazy."

They left me on the ground, and started a new racing game on the computer, wriggling into the same chair.

The doorbell rang, so I went to the front door and returned with John and Davey:

"Good morning, Dad! Do you have something to eat? We are starved..."

Nicky jumped up and beckoned them to the computer:

"We've got an email from Harry's Gypsy people in Rumania! And I am King Nicky the Dragon, because Harry is only a prince!"

"In your dreams!" little Harry laughed, again poking Nicky in the ribs,

"You are only a little snotty nose, just like me."

The boys started to laugh, and I taught little Harry how to let the emails show up. With a proud face he started the email browser, waited until the screen showed up, and clicked on 'sent items'.

"Well..." John commented, after reading little Harry's email,

"Obviously it's time for you to attend school, and learn how to spell correctly..."

"DAD... You promised to correct my errors! What will my people think of me now..."

"I think your people will love your email even more when they can see it's really YOU who wrote it."

"Yeah... Do you think so?"

Suddenly his face lit up, and he pointed to a corner of the screen:

"There's a blinking thingy... does that mean we have a new email?"

"I think it's somebody trying to sell us something we don't need at all... but click on 'inbox' to have a look at it."

"YES! They've sent us an answer! YIPPEE..."

The email was only a short one, but John read it aloud three times:

"We invite all of you to join our next celebration, seven days from now. Details will follow by fax."

The room was dead silent... until all the boys started to cheer and dance around the room:

"We're going to Rumania, we're going to Rumania!"

I tried to get their attention, but they were too enthusiastic and didn't hear me. I waited patiently, until they had used their energy and slowed down.

Now I could ask them two important questions:

"Do you have a passport, and do your parents agree?"

They hurried away to ask their parents, leaving little Harry and me looking at the email on the computer screen...

I phoned my lawyer and asked him for instructions. He told me to get a letter of consent from all the parents; verified, sealed, and stamped by a Notary Public, to always have with me. He also warned me not to use a mobile phone in that country, as it would cost me lots of money. If necessary he would speed things up for us, to get the needed passports as soon as possible. The money was no problem? Of course not!

The boys returned, panting. John had his passport with him, Nicky had one at home, but Davey didn't have one yet.

Again I phoned my lawyer, who promised us to order two passports as soon as possible; one for little Harry, and one for Davey. They would be available this afternoon. He would also manage all our assurances, including a green card for our van.

In procession we went to all the parents, to get their written consent and to discuss our plans. They had to ask school for a prolonged vacation, because we would travel with our golden van and would be away at least three weeks. I would pay for all the costs and insurances. I also promised them to try to let the boys phone home every night, if possible. We returned, and I faxed copies of all the papers to my lawyer.

We went downtown, and bought inflatable mattresses, sleeping bags, camping pillows, and lots of other things we thought we needed. A photographer took pictures of little Harry and Davey, to be used in their passports; and we went to the town hall, where we got their passports within twenty minutes.

We went to a Notary Public, who sealed and stamped the letters of consent. We bought a couple of maps, to sketch the way to Rumania; and I bought a small GPS receiver, to be able to know where we were all the time.

Of course I paid for everything with my inexhaustible credit card, causing a chuckle from little Harry who winked at me. But he didn't say a word...

Finally we went to a nice Chinese restaurant, where the waiter guided us to a table for six in a cozy corner. Again little Harry was very curious about all the spices, especially the 'green snot'. He asked the waiter about it, and suddenly the chief cook appeared at our table, a nice Chinese man who didn't speak our language too well. He was very polite, and told our nosy boy that the 'gleen snot consisted of foul helbs, mingled togethel with olive oil and a bit of salt'.

Little Harry thanked him exuberantly, proudly beaming:

"Now I know how to make it, Dad! I already have three of the herbs, and I know what the missing herb is. That's the taste of home I missed so much..."

The Chinese food tasted delicious, and soon we were all stuffed. We drove home in a joyful mood, singing along with the music.

After a while John got a bright idea:

"Dad, if we are careful, please may we try out the sleeping positions of all the seats; to see if we really can sleep in our van?"

I nodded, and the boys started to reposition the chairs. They lined them up and created a nice bed, big enough to accommodate four growing boys.

"When we are home we will turn the front seats around too, and join them to the bed. Then it should be big enough for all five of us."

I nodded, and turned my eyes back onto the road.

The boys put the chairs back, started to unpack the inflatable mattresses, and promptly detected we forgot an air pump. They nearly panicked, afraid they had to inflate all the mattresses themselves...

John jumped to the front seat, and painfully punched my arm:

"DAD! We forgot to buy a PUMP!"

I turned the van around, and we went back to the store. There we bought a nice electric motor pump to attach to the cigarette lighter contact.

I showed John the bruise where he punched me, but he laughed and tried to punch me a second time:

"Ah, poor little baby... shall I give it a kissykissy?"

I tried to catch him, but he was too fast for my old body and escaped, sticking out his tongue. Well, I will get him later on...

I parked the van in our driveway and we went inside, carrying everything into the house. The boys decided to spend the night together in my bedroom, sleeping on the floor in their new sleeping bags on their new inflatable mattresses, to try them out.

They went home to ask permission from their parents, and returned carrying their pajamas with them, to make things more real.

We spent the rest of the evening planning things, looking at the various maps, trying out the GPS receiver, looking on the Internet at pictures of the Rumanian mountains, and making lists of things we had to take with us. We also decided to buy a couple of big suitcases, to attach onto the roof of our van. In them we could put away all the things we didn't need immediately, for example the too naughty boys...

The boys were far too wound up to go to bed, so we decided to go for a night walk in the neighborhood. We put on warm clothes and left the house.

This time little Harry led the way. He guided us through the backyards, along all kinds of scary dark lanes, crossed a field of prickly bushes, hissed at barking dogs who promptly went silent; and after a while all of a sudden we were back in the back corner of our own backyard...

Wow! He certainly knew the way around our neighborhood. I complimented him, and he smiled with pride:

"I've used those sneaky ways for about two years now... Fortunately that's now a thing of the past!"

Now we were calmed down; so we went upstairs, showered, put our pajamas on, and inflated the mattresses with the help of the electric air pump and a small power supply. We lined the mattresses up, crawled into our new sleeping bags, and zipped them closed.

"Night, everybody!"

"Night, Dad!"

After a while my old bones started to protest. Obviously I was too used to sleeping in a warmed waterbed. The air mattress wobbled, the new sleeping bag smelled of rubber and was too small, the pillow was too flat, I couldn't turn around without bumping into one of the others...

Within an hour I left my sleeping bag, sneaked into my waterbed, crept under the blankets, and sighed contentedly. I closed my eyes and was asleep within two seconds, dreaming of paradise and total freedom.

An hour later I woke up, feeling a cold body touching my back. The body put his arms around my shoulders, sighed, and fell asleep. Ten minutes later a second cold body crept into my waterbed, felt the first body, walked around, and crawled into my arms with a deep sigh. Nicky and little Harry had found their places. I grinned, put my arms around them, and felt rich with my boys. Soon I was back in dreamland.

In the morning I woke up looking at four boys in my bed, entangled into each other and me, all softly snoring. So much for trying out our sleeping bags! I freed myself, and looked at a floor that was littered with opened sleeping bags and rumpled pajamas.

Nicky turned around, yawned, and squinted at me:

"Morning, Pop. What's the time?"

One by one the boys woke up and looked around with sleepy eyes. They started to yawn and stretch; and I grinned:

"Where are your pajamas? I thought you put them on to get used to them?"

They looked guilty, and a bashful looking Nicky leaned against me:

"Mine started to cling to my body and felt damp. I think I'm no longer used to wearing things in bed..."

The other boys nodded, and told me they felt the same. They were naturists now, and thus had to live up to that!

They went downstairs first, to cross their streams in the ceramic god.

"Look out, as you have to clean up every drop yourself!"

"Yes, Dad..." and off they went, wiggling their butts at me.

They returned, and now Davey had a clever idea:

"Perhaps we could try to zip all the sleeping bags together?"

They immediately went to work, and fabricated one long blanket that could be folded together into one wide sleeping bag.

"That's the solution! Now we can sleep together in the same bed in our van. That's a bright idea, Davey!"

Davey beamed, and rolled himself into the long blanket, enthusiastically helped by the other boys.

Soon he detected he was stuck and couldn't free himself:

"Hey! You have to help me. I can't get out of here."

The other boys laughed and went to the shower, leaving Davey at a loss, until I freed him.

"I will GET them for that!"

"Take it easy, son; next time you will be teasing one of the others. It's all part of the game."

"I know, Dad, but for a moment I nearly panicked."

After breakfast we went downtown again, to buy a couple of suitcases and lots of other things we thought of yesterday evening. After we returned the boys carefully washed our golden van. They cleaned the windows, vacuumed the inside, and painstakingly removed all the things they thought we didn't need during our journey. When they were done, the van looked like new in the bright sun.

We went indoors and filled our suitcases with all the things we needed in the near future, such as clean clothes and extra towels. We attached them onto the roof under a plastic sheet, secured with a couple of ropes. We stacked away all the other things into the back of the van, which was soon filled to the brim.

After carefully checking and double-checking everything, now we were ready to start our journey to Rumania!

In procession we visited all the parents, who of course had to tell the boys all sorts of advice, which of course they immediately forgot. Jason and Carl promised little Harry to look after his herb garden while we were away, and keep a look at the house in our absence.

We all hugged each other, and the boys promised their parents to be good boys and always listen to me.

We returned to my house, where I carefully closed all the doors and windows, double-checking everything.

We entered our golden van, I started the engine, and we drove off, towards that mysterious place that's called 'Rumania'...

31. Busted again, cathararsis, and a bungalow tent.

The boys cheered when we drove into the next block and suddenly saw Jason and Carl, both enthusiastically waving at us.

Davey rode shotgun, with a map on his knees and the GPS receiver on the dashboard. With a green marker we had marked the road to the border of our country, where the next map would continue.

John, Nicky, and little Harry had folded two seats into tables, and now sat behind them, softly talking about nothing special.

I fished my sunglasses out of my pocket and kept my eyes on the road, now and then looking at the boys who seemed to enjoy themselves.

Soon we left the small village and entered the highway.

"Next crossing to the left, Dad, about twenty kilometers from here."

"Thanks, Davey."

We had calculated our trip to last around four days, over a distance of about two and a half thousand kilometers (about 1500 miles). That allowed us to take a lot of pauses, with the possibility of enjoying the surroundings and Mother Nature during the stops. The first stop would be at a small roadside restaurant, a hundred kilometers from here, where we would have our noon meal.

"The GPS calculates ninety two kilometers to the restaurant, Dad."

After a while Nicky started to jump and fidget:

"Pop, I have to visit the toilet!"

"Boys, did we bring our diapers with us?"

"POP! I'm nearly peeing my pants!"

"Just a moment, until I can find a parking place."

Five minutes later we saw a blue 'P' and drove into a parking lot along the road, secluded by bushes. Nicky jumped out of the car and hurried to a tree, followed by the other boys. I decided to take a leak too, and soon we were crossing our streams and trying to shoot little insects from the leaves. Of course the boys won, as my prostate wouldn't let me shoot that far.

Two shaggy looking men approached us, with a mean grin on their faces. One of the men slowly took a knife out of his pocket and played with it:

"Look, how nice! A pedophile with his herd, playing with their weenies. Hey pedo, want us to join you? We'll teach you a lesson..."

Suddenly John snatched a branch from the ground and stepped forward:

"Don't you DARE threaten my father! I'll kill you with my bare hands!"

Davey looked around and found a picket to defend me. Nicky heaved a big pebble from the ground, and little Harry took another branch. They all stepped in front of me, ready to defend me with their lives...

The men backed away, now looking really angry:

"Don't think you are done with us. We will report you to the police!"

We hurried to the van and drove off, without looking back.

"Would that man really harm you, Pop? I was ready to throw my stone directly into his face!"

"I was ready to shatter their brains with that branch, if they had any."

"I should have thrust that picket into their balls with all my force!"

"I should have squashed their noses with my branch!"

The boys were still trembling, and started to brag about what they should have done to those nasty men. I was totally bewildered. What kind of a world did we live in, where even taking a leak together with your own children was questionable?

I was still shaking all over, and tried to remove the memories from my brain.

We approached the roadside restaurant, and parked our van in an empty parking space that was barely big enough for the van. The boys found an empty table near the windows, and we ordered a nice meal and something to drink.

Fifteen minutes later we were eating and chatting, when a police car showed up in the parking lot and parked in front of our van. Two officers entered the restaurant and spoke to the waiter. He pointed to our table, and the officers approached us with strained faces. Little Harry groaned "nooooo..." and tried to disappear under the table, shaking all over his body.

The police officers showed us their identity cards:

"We've got a complaint about your behavior, and we want you to come with us. All of you."

"Why are you trying to spoil our vacation, officer? We didn't do anything against the law, so there's no reason for us to follow you."

"Do you want us to handcuff you, or do you come with us quietly and without protesting?"

John jumped up, and his eyes shot daggers:

"You're crazy! Two men attacked us and threatened us with a knife. We threatened them back with a few tree branches and drove off. That's all WE did. But look at what YOU do now! YOU are the predators here; YOU are abusing your badge to molest US. Look at my little brother... He's a Gypsy boy, who had to endure your raids and accusations for more than six years! And again you want to molest him. Why? What did my little brother do wrong?"

One of the officers took his mobile phone and dangled it:

"Are you coming with us, or shall we call for reinforcements? Your big mouth will not help you, and we are only doing our job..."

They left us no choice, we had to follow them to their car. We climbed into the back, and sat down on two wooden benches along the sides. The windows were barred, and the door opened only from the outside. Little Harry started to puke, but we didn't have any tissues. I tried to clean his face with my handkerchief.

"I don't want them to screw up our trip to my people, Dad. Why don't they leave us alone? I am so afraid..."

"There's nothing to be afraid of, son, we did nothing wrong. Can you remember the last time? Everything turned out for the best, and now everything will turn out for the best again."

I tried to believe myself. I really tried...

After twenty minutes the police car parked in front of a police station, and the officers opened the door.

They led us into a small waiting room, where we had to sit down:

"Do you want something to drink?"

I asked for coffee, and the boys got plastic cups of tea with sugar lumps and a spoon. I told them my son had been puking, and asked to be allowed to clean him up. To my surprise one of them took little Harry and me to a toilet, where I could clean him up and dry his face with a towel.

When we returned, a third officer had entered the room:

"Please, will you come with me for a moment?"

At least he was polite... I followed him to a small room, where a fourth officer awaited us:

"Please sit down."

I sat down, and he took a couple of papers, studying them:

"Please, will you tell me in your own words what has happened?"

I told him everything, and he listened without saying a word. I told him about little Harry surviving a fire, me adopting him, and his people inviting us all to Rumania. I told him about the last time when we were interrogated, incriminated by our street blabber-mouth. I told him about the fun we had, little Nicky who had to pee, and we all accompanied him, crossing our streams. I told him about the two men, accusing me of being a 'pedo' and pointing a knife at us. I told him about my boys, trying to defend me with their lives. And now we were brought here, arrested like criminals...

"Just a moment..."

He disappeared, leaving me with the other officer, who didn't say a word and looked bored.

Fifteen minutes later he returned:

"You are free to go. Take your boys with you and enjoy your vacation."

"Just like that? Couldn't you at least tell me what happened? What will I tell my boys, who are dead nervous about us being arrested again?"

"You are not being arrested, but investigated. There's a big difference. This morning we received an anonymous phone call, stating a man was seen in a parking place, playing with the weenies of his four sons. They knew the license plate number, so we could track you down. We called the prosecutor, who decided to start an investigation. That's why we brought you here. We questioned you, and we questioned the boys, and your stories seem to agree. That's why the prosecutor has decided to release you without further investigation. Normally we would have searched your car and your house for possession of child porn or other illegal things, and you would have had to wait for a much longer time..."

He opened the door and beckoned me to follow him:

"Your boys are waiting for you..."

There they were, my gloomy looking boys; staring at the floor, nervously fumbling with their clothes, and still trembling all over...

"Come on, boys, let's get out of here!"

Hesitantly, they followed me to the door. I looked at the two officers:

"Of course you will take us back to the restaurant?"

One of the officers looked at me with fishy eyes:

"We don't have a taxi service, you know..."

I decided to keep my big mouth shut, and we left the police station in a hurry.

Little Harry took my hand, still looking very pale:

"Where are we going now, Dad?"

"To Rumania, of course! We are going to our REAL people, where we will be received with open arms!"

We entered a small shop, where the friendly owner let us order a taxi. Twenty minutes later we were on our way, back to the restaurant and our golden van.

Slowly the boys started to open up, still trembling. They told me how a big police officer turned up, a real bully. He started to ask them questions about my behavior, what I did with them, where we showered and how, whether they had ever seen me or each other naked, whether they had ever looked at naughty pictures in my house... All the time John told them to go to hell, and that he only wanted to answer their questions when I or his own parents were present.

Then little Harry puked again; and suddenly little Nicky stood up, with a demeanor they never had seen in him before:

"What are you afraid of? My second father is a better Dad than you ever will be in your whole life. He really LOVES us, you know, and we all love him too. That has nothing to do with being naked or bad touching, but that has to do with TRUST. We all trust Dad, and we know that Dad also trusts us. And now please stop asking nasty things and give us our Dad back. We are too small to cope without him..."

John threw his arms around Nicky and nearly crushed him:

"From now on you will be our King Nicky the Great!"

Nicky blushed, and looked at his feet:

"Did I really have the courage to tell them THAT? Wow!"

We entered our golden van, where little Harry sat down in the front seat on a pillow, and the other boys went to the two folded tables in the back.

I looked at my still pale looking and trembling little friends:

"What shall we do now? Shall we go back home, and restart our journey tomorrow; or shall we go on with our trip?"

In unison we decided to continue our journey, even when little Harry probably would get one of his nightmares tonight.

"Dad, some time ago Jack helped me to open up, when I was terribly angry and frightened about my burnings and the next operation. He called that a 'cataract' or something like that. Do you know what that was?"

"You probably mean a 'catharsis'?"

"Oh yeah, that. Please will you help me to unbolt my anger and fright into such a 'catharsis'? I think I need it..."

Being a psychotherapist, I had helped hundreds of patients to go through a catharsis, but never such a small boy, and never without inducing a lot of emotions first. Could this work? I decided to give it a chance. If this really worked, it would free my little soul mate from his fears, and it couldn't cause him any harm.

"Do you prefer to sit on a chair, or do you want to lie down? How did Jack help you?"

"He took my hands and let me shout and cry and kick for a long time, until at last my emotions were gone and I felt free."

"Okay then, shall we use two opposite rear seats?"

The boys arranged the seats, so that little Harry and I could face each other. They surrounded us, curious about what would happen.

Little Harry kicked his shoes off, and moved his seat a bit nearer:

"Can we start now, Dad? I'm ready..."

I took his small hands into mine, and he looked into my eyes. He had wonderful bright blue eyes. I nearly drowned in them. They radiated love and trust, and something else, a very strong determination.

Suddenly I felt unsure. What should I do now? Shouldn't I induce an emotion first? I had never done this before without any emotional preparation...

Suddenly Jack's voice sounded somewhere in my head:

"Let's work together."

A load fell off my shoulders. I felt Jack put his hands onto mine, and a warm beam of power started to charge them.

Slowly little Harry's eyes changed. Now I saw fear in them. An extreme fear, like a trapped animal, desperately trying to escape. Slowly the fear changed into grief and anger. I could clearly see his strength and power return, while he got more color on his face.

An intense warmth surrounded both of us, filled with pure love. Little Harry started to tremble and squeeze my hands, breathing deeper and deeper. A low grunt welled up in his throat, followed by a loud cry. He started to fight my hands and kick his feet. I pressed my leg against his legs, to prevent him from kicking me or injuring his feet. I could feel the intensity of the power increase even more, like loud whipping music sounding around us. Now little Harry screamed and fought with all his force, kicking around and squeezing my hands.

All of a sudden it was over. He slumped down with a deep sigh, and I caught him in my arms.

He looked up at me with a beaming face, and I saw so much love in his eyes...

"Thank you, Dad; that was wonderful. Jack was helping me too, and together you freed me from all the subconscious anger and fear I had bottled up. Now I feel light and free..."

He closed his eyes and fell asleep, with a smile on his face.

The boys folded a seat to make a bed for little Harry. They filled an inflatable air mattress, I laid him down, and Nicky covered him with a blanket.

Davey looked at me for a long time, with a deep respect in his eyes:

"Next time when I am angry and want to kick somebody, I want you help me too with such a cathararsis!"

I ruffled his hair, and John started to laugh:

"You are for sure all bottled up! Even your tongue is twisted."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing..."

"John means a 'cataractal catharsis', or a 'catharsistical cataract'," Nicky laughed.

"Huh? A cataractistical... I'm breaking my tongue on that word!"

We all laughed, gently not to wake little Harry who started to snore.

King Nicky the Great rode shotgun on little Harry's pillow; and we drove off, on our way to Rumania. We stopped at a gas station, where King Nicky filled the tank to the brim on his own, proudly looking around.

He went inside with my credit card, but came out with a disappointed face:

"You have to sign for yourself, Pop. They wouldn't let me..."

Together we went into the station to pay; and I bought a couple of ice cream cones for the boys, as a surprise to lick during the trip. Nicky passed them around, and tried to preserve one for his friend Harry. After a while it started to melt, so now he had two ice creams to eat, but nobody was jealous. After all, he was our King... (at least that's what the boys told him).

After a while little Harry woke up, immediately bright and shining, and wanted me to stop at the next gas station to buy him another ice cream. Of course I did as he wanted, and he chose a big ice cream with several dips and drizzled with syrup. Beaming and licking, like the eight-year-old small boy he really was, he returned to our van, and we resumed our trip.

"Where are we sleeping tonight, Dad?"

"I think we will drive on for a while, until we are too tired. Then we will find us a nice parking lot, to spend the night there."

"But... when those nasty men are looking for us, and they find us on a parking lot? What will they do next time? I'm still afraid..."

I had to think that over for a while. Little Harry certainly had a point. Supposed there were other men like those two, waiting in the next parking lot, trying to harass innocent victims?

"Boys, listen. I want to discuss something with you. Shall we sleep in a parking lot tonight, or are we going to a campsite?"

"But we don’t have a tent or a caravan... Will they accept us there, with only our van to sleep in?"

"Pop, perhaps you could buy such a big bungalow tent... There we could play, sleep, sit, and you could drink your coffee..."

Nicky had a clever idea! We left the highway at the next exit, and went into a big town, looking for a camping store. We asked a nice police officer (yes, they are there!), and he pointed us to a suburb, where we found a big store filled with all sorts of camping essentials.

The boys immediately ran to the biggest bungalow tent there was and beckoned me:

"This one, Dad! This one is big enough for all of us."

Of course they were right. Together we carried the large package to our van, and with some difficulty freed a place behind the rear seats.

We returned to the highway, and the boys searched our map for a suitable camping site:

"Here, Dad, here's a nice one, we think. It's about one hundred and fifty kilometers from here, and the map says you can eat there too."

Our technical boys, John and Davey, located the place on our GPS receiver; and now they all followed the arrows on the screen, telling me every kilometer how many kilometers we had to go, and what time we would arrive according to the GPS.

After a while little Harry started to fidget and jump up and down:

"I have to use the toilet, Dad, but don't stop in a parking lot..."

We stopped next to a gas station, and little Harry hurried inside the station. He returned with a key, waved at us, and disappeared around a corner.

We waited for a couple of minutes, until John and Davey got too impatient and decided to look for him. They disappeared around the corner, while Nicky and I waited for them in the van.

Soon they returned, worried and looking around:

"We can't find him, Dad. The man in the gas station told us a small boy brought the key back within a few minutes. We've looked everywhere..."

I jumped out of the van, and together we went to the gas station. The attendant told us a small boy entered the shop and asked for the toilet. He handed him the key and told him to go outside, turn right, and unlock the second door. After a few minutes the boy returned, handed the key back, and politely thanked him. The boy went away, and he didn’t see him back. He didn't know what direction the boy went.

What now? We decided to split up and search the surroundings. John and Davey went right, while Nicky and I went left. We looked everywhere, even in all the stinking containers. We called his name a couple of times, but in vain. In the distance we saw John and Davey, looking everywhere, just as we did.

We crossed the parking lot and looked in all the parked cars. We asked a couple of people, but nobody had seen a small Gypsy boy with light brownish hair, clad in a yellow t-shirt and blue jeans. Eventually Nicky and I went back to our van, hoping to see little Harry there...

Suddenly Nicky jumped into the air, and shouted:

"There they are!"

In the distance John and Davey reappeared, waving at us. They had their arms around a timid little Harry, who wiped his eyes with a slip of his shirt.

They entered the van, dragging little Harry with them:

"That duffer got lost; he took the wrong way back to our van..."

"I couldn't help it, as I'm only eight years old! At first I didn't know where the toilets were. A man showed me the way, but after I brought the key back I couldn't remember where our van was, and I got lost in the middle of all those parked cars..."

He started to sob, and immediately all the boys comforted him and told him it really wasn't his fault:

"Shush, next time we will join you and go together. Now dry your tears and enjoy the trip to your people. After all, you are our Prince!"

Little Harry's sun started to shine again, and within a few minutes we all sang along with the booming music of our car stereo.

We found the camping site, big and crowded. The receptionist told us there was only one space left, in the back of the site, and we couldn't reach it with our van. Well, that wasn't an insurmountable problem, with four strong boys who could help carrying all our camping stuff. We parked the van, and carried our new bungalow tent across the campground to our space. John, Davey, and I lifted a corner each, while Nicky and little Harry lifted the fourth corner together. Wheezing and puffing we reached our space, where we took a little rest.

The boys carefully studied the papers with the instructions:

"There are colored tapes around the tips of the canes and in the corners of the big tent, but let's try to put the frame together first."

It LOOKED so easy... but it took us nearly two hours of puzzling (and sometimes softly cursing) until eventually our bungalow tent stood and was properly stringed up. We slumped down and wiped our sweaty foreheads.

"Next time it will be more easy, Dad, because now we know what we have to do first."

We decided to visit the campground restaurant first, before carrying the air mattresses and the sleeping bags to our bungalow tent. There we filled our empty stomachs, and lazily rested for a while in the cozy chairs around a nice barbeque place, listening to soft music.

After a while I decided to prepare for the night:

"Come on, boys, let's carry everything to our bungalow tent, and set it up for the night."

We had fun with filling the air mattresses, and then we carried them on our heads to the bungalow tent. We returned, and took the sleeping bags and the pillows with us. On the third trip we carried the suitcases to our tent. We put everything in place, and lazily tested the mattresses.

Davey had to visit the toilet, and we decided to accompany him in case he got lost. We found the toilets and the showers, and Davey hurried inside.

Within two minutes he was back:

"They don't have toilet paper here..."

What now? We didn't bring toilet paper with us... Totally forgotten! Davey started to fidget; obviously he was in real need. I sent John to the camping store to buy a couple of rolls, and reassured Davey that he would be back in time.

Within five minutes John was back, panting:

"The store was closed, and the receptionist didn't have any toilet paper. He told me we should bring that with us ourselves, as the young camping visitors tend to play with it too much..."

What now? Davey looked green now and started to moan. I went outside, and headed for the first bungalow tent that showed up.

Fortunately the tent owner was home:

"One of my boys is in need of toilet paper, and we forgot to bring that with us. Could you please lend us some?"

"You are the fifth one today who forgot to bring toilet paper to the campground. That will cost you two Euros."

He reached behind to a big pile of toilet rolls and took one, waiting for me to pay for it.

"That's a lot of money. In reality they cost only a fraction of that price."

He put the toilet roll back onto the pile, with an indifferent face:

"Okay, next time better."

"Well... we are really in need... Okay, I will pay you."

He reached to the pile again, smiling this time:

"You are all the same. I'm here every year, in this same space, and every year my site is paid for by customers like you."

I laughed, and complimented him with his commercial spirit.

I hurried back to the toilets, where in the meantime Davey had occupied a stall and now patiently waited for a piece of toilet paper to finish his business. John brought him the toilet roll, pinching his nose. We heard Davey pull his pants up and flush the toilet.

He returned from the stall, and washed his hands:

"Dad, do you have a towel to dry my hands with?"

Totally forgotten! Davey tried to dry his hands by waving them in the air, and then dried them by wiping them along his trousers:

"Thank you, Dad! I was afraid I had to use your handkerchief to wipe my behind with..."

We all laughed, and went back to our bungalow tent.

John and Davey decided to scout the surroundings, while Nicky and little Harry accompanied me into our tent:

"Dad, will you tell us a nice story?"

Tell them a nice story... that was a long time ago! I tried to remember the stories I used to tell my daughters, but in vain. Nothing would pop up, so I fantasized a story about a king who had two sons. His eldest son had a lot of pride and would be the next king in the future. His youngest son was in harmony with himself and enjoyed every moment of his life as a little prince. Soon I was totally lost in my own story.

I kept on telling, until John and Davey showed up:
"Dad, it's completely dark in our tent! Where are the lights?"

Totally forgotten! Never had I thought that camping would require so many preparations in advance. Probing and fumbling in the suitcases, we looked for soap and towels. In procession we went to the showers. Fortunately they were nearly empty, and after showering and drying we were ready for the night.

The boys decided to sleep in their underwear, in case somebody showed up during the night, or they had to go outside for a leak. Little Harry protested, because he was afraid his scars would start to itch after a while. We decided to let him sleep in the nude, as he always did. Ultimately he was only eight years old! Immediately Nicky decided to imitate his friend, as he was only eight years old too.

The boys unzipped the sleeping bags in total darkness. Then they zipped them together into one long blanket. They draped the blanket over all five air mattresses and folded it back, thus creating one wide bed to sleep in.

We crept under the long blanket, and little Harry claimed his usual place on my stomach. Nicky nestled against my left side, and Davey nestled against my right side, while John put his arm around Nicky. Soon we all drifted off into a deep and peaceful sleep.

We woke up at the sound of a crowing rooster, followed by barking dogs and yelling children. Lazily, we stretched and yawned, surprised we had slept so well. We cuddled until our stomachs took over and decided we were too hungry.

We put on some clothes and went to the showers, which turned out to be crowded with grown-ups and children, most of them running around in the nude. Little Harry and Nicky immediately mingled with them, while John and Davey seemed to be a bit more hesitant. Eventually we found an empty stall and showered, two at the same time and changing places. We dried each other's backs, and returned to our bungalow tent to dress properly for breakfast.

We went to the even-more-crowded restaurant, and waited what seemed like an eternity, to eventually have breakfast outside in the brightly shining morning sun. I waited another fifteen minutes to get my cup of coffee and a drink for the boys, who impatiently waited. We left our table, which was immediately occupied by other visitors.

We went to our tent, deflated the air mattresses, folded the long blanket together, put the smaller things into the suitcases, and carried everything to our van.

We dropped our tent and tried to fold it into the cover, wondering how they had ever put such a large tent into such a small cover. Eventually we gave up and carried the whole thing to the van, where we shoved it into the back with some difficulty.

I went to the reception office and paid them. John rode shotgun with the map on his knees, I started the engine, and again we were on our way to our Gypsy people in Rumania, singing along with the music of our car stereo.

32. Sending love, a puncture, and the customs.

We decided to drive for an hour or some more, and then look for a big town where we could buy the extra things we needed. John took a piece of paper and a ballpoint, and made a list of the things we absolutely should buy. Flashlights, a bright camping lamp, lots of toilet paper, a small car refrigerator, and lots of food and healthy things so we could make our own sandwiches. That way we were no longer dependent on camping restaurants with their long queues.

In the meantime Davey fed the GPS receiver with our new data:

"The GPS tells us we will arrive at the next town within sixty three minutes, Dad."

John switched the car stereo on, and scanned the stations for background music. Little Harry and Nicky played a game of 'stone, scissors, and paper'. After a while everybody got bored, so John wrote down: 'Car games for underway!'. And a moment later: 'More paper and a spare ballpoint'. He added: 'Tissues'.

An hour later we entered a town, and looked for a big supermarket; but as always, when you need something you may be sure you can't find it!

Nicky saw the police-officer first, and pointed at him:

"What a strange uniform that officer is wearing, Pop! Everything he wears is a dark green instead of blue. Why is that?"

"That's because we are now in another country. Here they speak a different language too."

"Oh... but how will we ask them something? Do you speak their language, Pop?"

"Well, I don't speak it too well, but it might be well enough to make him understand what I want."

We stopped, and I asked the officer where we could find a big supermarket. Fortunately he understood me quite well, and pointed us to a big supermarket, a camping store, and a big store he called 'beehive' where we could buy nearly everything we wished. I thanked him, and we went to the supermarket first.

"What a strange language they speak here, Pop. I didn't understand a word of what he told you."

"Fortunately I did!"

I parked our van in front of the supermarket. The boys hopped out of the car and went through the sliding doors, where little Harry picked up a shopping cart and proudly directed it to the first row of goods. John fished the piece of paper from his pocket, and we loaded the cart with everything we needed, plus a couple of extra things we thought we would need in the future. As the cart filled up, Nicky helped little Harry push the now very heavy cart.

Eventually we went to the cash register, and I paid them with my credit card. We put our purchases into a cardboard box and carried everything to our van, where we tried to clear a place for the box. I should have bought a bigger car!

John looked doubtfully at the box and the back of the van, and shook his head:

"Where will we put the car refrigerator, the camping lamp, the games, and everything else we still have to buy?"

"Well... I think we will put you on the roof. Thus we will have lots of extra space in the van to stow away everything else."

"Ha-ha. You're the funniest person I've ever met..."

We went to the camping store, where we bought five flashlights, spare batteries, two camping lamps, and a nice small cooling box with a built in twelve volt element. With a lot of pushing and shifting, everything found a place in the back of the van.

Now I tried to remember which way the police officer showed us to the 'beehive'. Was it to the left or to the right? I asked a passer-by, and two minutes later we looked at an enormous five-story building with lots of alluring shop windows. I parked our van, and the boys pressed their noses against the glass, with bulging eyes. We entered the huge building, and now the boys were in awe!

"Dad, I could walk around here for the rest of the day, and come back tomorrow to look again!"

"Look, they have EVERYTHING here, from television sets to school books. Let's have a look on the next floor..."

We bought a load of games, a small twelve volt coffee machine, and a couple of other useful things we thought we might need. The boys wanted to stay for another while, but we had to go on! I promised them to return here another time, perhaps during their next vacation.

We went back to our van, and decided to drive on until we were too tired to continue. The boys entertained themselves with their new games, and looked at the GPS receiver from time to time to see where we were. After an hour John and Davey surprised me with a cup of hot coffee, homemade on our new coffee machine. I thanked them very much, as the coffee tasted really good.

Halfway through the day the boys prepared healthy sandwiches, and we took a short break at a parking place along the road, although little Harry protested. Nobody showed up to harass us, but the boys decided not to leave the van until we reached the next gas station, causing little Harry to sigh with relief:

"I'm still afraid, Dad! I don't want us to be arrested again..."

He crept onto my lap and we cuddled for a while, until we had to go on. At the next gas station we parked our van, fetched the washroom key, and took a leak, waiting until everybody had finished. We took the key back, thanked the attendant, and resumed our way to Rumania.

Slowly the landscape changed. The boys craned their necks and looked from left to right at the woods, the valleys, and a beautiful low lake amongst the wooded hills that looked green because of the reflections of the forest in the surface. For the first time during our journey they were absolutely silent and overwhelmed by the beauty of nature.

The road started to climb now, and the car engine had to work harder. For the next two hours we were climbing, descending, climbing again, until we decided to stop for dinner. We looked at the map and found a small town in a valley, surrounded by mountains. We left the interstate, and suddenly saw a wonderful looking small restaurant, decorated with beautiful flowers around the windows.

"That restaurant looks really nice. Let's stop here, Dad!"

We parked our van, entered the restaurant, and felt welcomed by an invitingly homey atmosphere. A smiling waiter addressed us in a foreign language we didn’t understand, but when we used the universal sign for 'hungry', rubbing our bellies, he guided us to a cozy corner table with six chairs. There he handed me the menu, but I couldn't understand what it said.

I tried to gesture that the choice was his, and with a huge grin he seemed to understand. He left us for a moment, and returned with a cup of coffee and four glasses of juice. John pointed to his glass and shook 'no'. The waiter smiled and took the glass away. Within seconds he returned with a glass of milk. Was he clairvoyant or what? John thanked him by nodding vigorously.

Twenty minutes later the waiter showed up with five bowls of a reddish soup, which tasted excellent. He took the empty bowls away, and returned with a huge plate filled with the most mouth-watering pieces of meat I ever saw. They were huge! He scooped a piece of meat onto each plate; and filled the table with enormous servings of salad, fried potatoes, and a yellowish sauce. Everything tasted delicious, even our critical cook licked his fingers.

After the meal the waiter offered us five small sorbets, decorated with all sorts of summer fruits. Little Harry tried to ask him about the names of the meal, and our waiter seemed to understand him. He told our nosy cook that the soup was called 'minestrone', the meat was called 'schnitzel', and the fried potatoes were 'kartoffeln'. 'Thank you' was 'danke' and 'delicious' was 'herrlich'.

Little Harry beamed, and told him with a proud face:

"Danke, the minestrone soup and the schnitzel and the kartoffeln and everything else were herrlich!"

The waiter burst out laughing, and ruffled his hair:

"Danke schön, du bist ein netter Knabe."

I took another cup of coffee and the boys asked for a 'cola', which seems to be the same in every language. We wanted to go on, so the waiter returned with the bill, and I was amazed by the reasonable price. I paid him and added a big tip. We went to our van and drove off, stuffed and feeling welcomed.

We drove on for a long time, until Davey pointed to a signboard that announced a couple of words in a foreign language, followed by 'bed and breakfast'.

That's a language we all understood! Should we...

"Yes, Dad, the rest of the trip we can sleep in our bungalow tent; but tonight we could sleep here, in a normal bed."

I nodded, parked the van, and we entered a nice looking tourist hotel. Fortunately they understood our language, and we got the keys of two adjacent rooms with a huge bathroom in between. We took our luggage upstairs, and divided the four huge beds, two in each room.

We went downstairs to have a look at the surroundings, but then the boys discovered the small indoor swimming pool:

"Can we... err... may we, Dad? We have our swimming trunks with us, in one of those suitcases."

I nodded, and they disappeared upstairs with loud Indian howls. Seconds later they were back, clad in their swimming trunks.

They were gone for the rest of the evening, while I talked to the owner of the hotel, a nice woman who spoke our language quite well. I told her our plans, and she warned me to be a bit more careful in Rumania, because of the widespread corruption. She also warned me not to use a campground there, as they are not safe enough. I should always try to spend the night in a well-known hotel, and carry everything out of our van first!

That night four happy and tired boys slept like horses. Of course Nicky and little Harry crawled into my bed, while John and Davey crawled together in the other bed in the same room. We didn’t use the second room, but messed up the other beds so they would look slept in, just to be safe. One could never know...

In the morning we enjoyed an excellent breakfast with bacon, boiled eggs, and lots of fruity jam. Soon we were stuffed and ready for the day.

We packed our suitcases, took them to our van, thanked the nice owner of the hotel, and drove off.

Again we went on our way to Rumania, but we weren't even halfway into our trip to little Harry's people...

John looked at the map, while Davey played with the GPS receiver:

"In ten minutes we are crossing the border to the next country, Dad."

He was right. Ten minutes later we passed a billboard that warned us to buy a 'tax marker' before crossing the border. We stopped at a small shop, and paid for the road tax by buying a sticker to put onto the front window of our van. We were in!

The surroundings slowly changed. We drove through a deep valley, surrounded by huge snowy mountains. The boys were in awe and craned their necks to look everywhere. We passed through a tunnel and entered the next valley, even deeper and wider, again surrounded by huge mountains that glowed bluish in the sunlight.

After a while the boys got used to the sights and decided to play one of the small games we bought, while John brewed me another cup of coffee.

He slid into the front seat, and looked a bit thoughtful:

"Dad, I've been thinking... May I ask you a question?"

"Of course you may. What's on your mind?"

"How do you send somebody your love?"

What a question! How did I send my love to my boys, or to other people? I knew it worked, but how did I DO it...

I sent him my love, and immediately his eyes brightened:

"I can FEEL you, Dad! It's as if you are radiating love and harmony, and it's like you are embracing me with it."

"I'll try to answer your question, but let me explain a few things about consciousness first. Consciousness consists of three basic levels: you can be thinking, feeling, and knowing. Do you recognize them?"

John thought for a while, until his eyes lit up:

"Yes, Dad, I think I recognize them. 'Thinking' is something I can do with my thoughts. 'Feeling' is something I have, somewhere in myself. And 'knowing' is maybe something I can learn in school?"

"That's two out of three correct, but I will try to make it even more clear to you. Everybody can 'think'. You do it with your brain. You 'think' by making thoughts in your brain. Many people think life is located in the brain, but in reality the brain is just a tool; you can use it to make things clear. You can do without the tool, you can be without thoughts; but even without thoughts you are still 'YOU'. Even without the thinking you 'know' who you are, always."

"Now I understand what 'knowing' is, Dad. 'Knowing' is who I really am!"

"That's partly true. You are a clever thinker! But let’s go on with the brain first... The brain has two serious defects: it can't 'feel', and it can't 'know'. It can 'think' about feelings, but it cannot 'feel'. And it can remember only the things you once fed it. That's all the brain is capable of. It 'knows' nothing. It's only a tool to help you make things clear, and to remember the things you once learned.

"You DO 'think', but you ARE 'feeling'. You say: 'I do think'; and you say: 'I am sad' or 'I am scared'. Not: 'I do sad' or 'I do scared'. That's a big difference. It's confusing nearly everybody. Nobody can 'do' a feeling. You can only 'BE' a feeling... and the brain cannot 'feel' at all. The brain can only look at the results of the feeling, and then make you believe you 'did' it."

Now John thought for a long time, with a deep frown on his forehead. At last his eyes brightened, and he nodded:

"I think you are right, Dad. When I try to 'feel' something, it's as if I can't feel at all. I can't DO a feeling... But when I stop thinking, then all of a sudden all my feelings are there... It's as if I can be in different places. When I am in my brain I can't feel anymore, except the sensations that belong to my body, such as temperature or pain. But when I am somewhere else, all at once I can feel lots of emotions and other feelings..."

"That's because your 'attention' can only be in one place at a time. Your attention is either with your brain, or it is with your 'feelings'.

"Your brain is a 'doer', but you are a 'being'. It's very important to keep that in mind. You 'do' think, you 'are' feeling, and there's a third thing: you 'KNOW' who you are. You can 'think' about who you are, you can 'feel' who you are, but you will always KNOW who you are, totally independent of your thoughts or your feelings; and even when you are sound asleep or dreaming you still 'know' who you are.

"You can extend your knowing, that's called 'intuition' or 'sense things'. That's what psychics or clairvoyants do. They extend their knowing to other levels. You can extend your 'knowing' to where you are aware that you are a 'spirit' living in a 'body'. You are not your body, and you are not your brain. You are 'you', a 'being', living in a 'body', and using it's brain, until eventually your body dies. But YOU can't die, only your body can.

"I know that's a lot of information, but did you follow me so far?"

The van was dead silent, except for the murmur of the engine. All the boys listened to my explanation, open-mouthed. I sent them my love, and immediately they all smiled. I resumed:

"To make things more complicated, there are two sorts of 'feelings'. We call them 'emotions' and 'feelings of the heart'. 'Emotions' are situated in the stomach, and there are five basic emotions: grief, competition, anger, fear, and love. 'Grief' helps you overcome losses, 'anger' sets your boundaries, 'competition' helps you to grow, 'fear' makes you careful, and 'love' brings you into contact with other living beings. Only 'love' can offer you something useful, namely happiness. All other emotions can make you ill. You could best do without them.

"The brain is always the boss. The moment you are paying attention to your thinking, you can only be 'aware' of your emotions and you can only THINK about your feelings. But you can't FEEL when you are thinking; because even your emotions are following your thoughts...

"When you have an 'emotion', your emotion is the boss. You still can't feel your 'heart feelings', you still can't KNOW, and you still can't use your 'intuition' or 'sense' things. You can only feel your emotions, and nothing else.

"But when you live in your heart, and fill yourself with love for yourself and for the whole universe, including all other living beings, you ARE LOVE. Only then your knowing, feeling, and intuition all work for the best."

They all sat deep in thought, obviously trying to understand what I told them. One by one their eyes lit up and they nodded. I went on, a bit in doubt about how far I could go with them...

"Many people are living in their heads; they are 'in control'. They will never really 'feel', and what they call 'love' is in reality something else, mainly based on 'emotions' and 'sexuality'. When they are developing their 'heart feelings' and their 'love', they first learn to be 'emotional', to let their emotional energy flow. That's the first step, and it's revealing all the hidden emotions. The result could be a 'catharsis'; but of course there are other ways too to deal with your frustrations and traumas and let them go.

"Once your hidden emotions, your 'frustrations' or your 'traumas', are emptied; you can start to feel your 'heart feelings'. The first feeling you recognize is nearly always 'emptiness', that's why so many people are looking for a 'partner', someone else who has to fill their 'loneliness' or give them a 'purpose in life'. But that's impossible. Nobody ELSE is able to fill you with a 'feeling' or give you a 'purpose' in your life. You can only fill YOURSELF with what you need for yourself, nobody else can.

"The next feeling you recognize is 'doubt'. 'Am I good enough', or 'does he or she love me?', or 'what's my purpose in life?'. From your 'doubt' you can go to the next step, to the conclusion that only YOU can fill yourself with everything you need in your life. Nobody else can.

"The third feeling is the major step forward: to love YOURSELF. Fill yourself with your own warmth, your own happiness, your own affection. Only then you ARE LOVE. The moment you are filled with love, you have so much to offer to all the other beings around, it's nearly suffocating you. That's the moment people start to REALLY help others, to show them the way, to encourage them to grow up and decide for themselves; instead of making themselves dependent on other people or on circumstances. When I am 'sending you my love', I open my heart and let my feelings of love and harmony radiate freely into the air, while I'm 'tuning in' to who you really are. That's all I have to do..."

Again the van was dead silent, except for the sounds of the engine and the surrounding traffic. They were all deep in thought. Suddenly I felt little Harry, a bit unsure; and I smiled at him.

"You could feel me, Dad! I sent you my love, and you FELT it! Wow!"

"Yes, my precious soul mate, I felt your love radiating and tuning in to me. You really ARE love."

John thought for a while, and then looked at me, a bit unsure:

"Could it be this works with the other emotions too?"

"Yes, John, unfortunately this works with all emotions that are strong enough. That's why sometimes a group of people will do things that an individual never would do. That's why you will nearly always become angry with another person who's feeling angry with you. You tune in into each other's feelings. But LOVE is the strongest emotion. When another person is angry or filled with hatred and you send him your love, the anger always will subside. All illuminated masters tell us we are all connected to each other, and they are right."

"What's an 'illuminated master'?"

"That's a person who has reached the top in being Universal Love."

"Oh... are you an illuminated master?"

"I hope to be one in the future, so I'm practicing..."

The next several hours the boys asked zillions of questions, tried to 'feel' each other, sent each other their love, tuned into me and into each other, until their stomachs intervened and tried to be the strongest forces of the moment.

John and Davey cooked a couple of eggs in our small coffee machine (clever boys!) and made us delicious sandwiches. I parked our van in a small clearing, and this time all the boys hurried outside to empty their bladders, even little Harry.

We ate our sandwiches, drank coffee and orange juice, and resumed our trip, determined to cover as many kilometers as possible. We passed the next border without trouble, but we had to pay for another tax marker. We went on, while the boys still talked about all the things they heard and played those small games. Eventually we were too tired to go on, so we decided to call it a day.

We went to a big campground, where the boys put our huge bungalow tent together in no time:

"See, Dad, when you know what you have to do first, setting up the tent is no longer a problem!"

The boys found a small lake, where a lot of people were swimming and diving; and the rest of the evening they were gone. I lit one of our new camping lamps and read a book to pass the time. The boys returned just before total darkness, looking tired but happy. We inflated the air mattresses and crawled under the big blanket. We were too tired to even say goodnight, and immediately fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up looking into two deep blue eyes. Fascinating eyes, with little fun lights in them.

Little Harry looked at me, smiled, and sent me his love:

"Morning, Dad, we thought you would never wake up. Can we go for another swim, before having breakfast?"

"Okay, but not for too long. We have to travel a long distance today."

All the boys were already clad in their swimming trunks, and they hurried to the lake. I dressed, and started to fold our bungalow tent together. After twenty minutes of wrestling I gave up, and decided to leave that to my technical team. I went to the lake, where my four boys frolicked, dived, and enthusiastically chased each other.

"Come on, boys, we have to go on!"

"Aww, Dad..."

They followed me in silence and moping, until they saw our bungalow tent:

"Who did that? DAD, somebody wrecked our tent!"

Deeply ashamed, I confessed. The boys roared with laughter, and wrestled me to the ground, where they started to tickle me mercilessly.

"Stop, boys, I am almost wetting my pants!"

"No problem, we have a nearly full package of diapers left."

They let me go, and neatly folded the crumpled tent in no time.

We loaded our van, paid the campground manager, and drove off. Ten minutes later we arrived at a small roadside restaurant and enjoyed an excellent breakfast. No long queues this time! We looked at the map, and planned to travel on until we reached the Rumanian mountains where our people lived.

We asked for a phone; and the boys phoned their parents, telling them about all the adventures of the past few days. They promised to phone them again as soon as they were able again. I paid for the breakfast and the calls, and we drove on.

Again we were on our way to the gypsies, trying to reach the mountains before darkness fell. Davey rode shotgun, with the map on his knees. Little Harry tried to discover how the GPS receiver worked, assisted by John. Nicky leaned across Davey, to search the car stereo for some nice music.

Suddenly the van started to rumble and swing from left to right and back. I steered to the right shoulder with some difficulty, and stopped. We left the van; and looked at a flat tire... obviously we got a puncture. There we were, in the middle of nowhere. What now?

A lot of cars passed by, but nobody stopped. I looked at our spare tire, but it didn't look too well. Where was the jack?

"John, Davey, do you know where our jack is? We need it to lift the van, so we can put the spare tire onto it."

"Do you mean that iron thing with a stupid handle at the side? We took it to our garage, to free more space for all the things we had to take with us..."

"Well, we can't change our tires without it. What now?"

John jumped on the road and started to wave his arms at the passing cars, and that helped. Within two minutes a big BMW stopped.

The driver opened a window and looked at our car with a frown:

"Looks like you are in trouble. What can I do for you?"

I pointed to our flat tire, and he took his mobile phone. He spoke a few words, and put the phone away:

"Within twenty minutes a garage will help you out. Have a nice day!"

We thanked him, and he drove off without looking back.

We went back into the van, where the boys brewed a cup of coffee and took fresh orange juice. We filled the time by looking at the passing cars and playing silly games, getting more and more bored.

After nearly an hour a big truck stopped behind us, and two heavily built men approached our van. They asked us a few questions we didn't understand, so I pointed to the puncture and to our spare tire. Fortunately they understood now. They took a big jack out of their truck, and changed the tires in no time. They beckoned us to follow them, and drove off. I started the van and tailed them.

Ten minutes later we entered a garage, where the men put two brand new tires on both front wheels. They exchanged the spare tire with the better one. One of the men wrote a sum down on a piece of paper, handed it to me, and made the international sign of 'paying'.

I took my wallet out of my pocket and counted. My wallet didn't contain enough cash money, so I took my inexhaustible credit card. Immediately they both shook 'no'. Obviously they wanted to be paid in cash...

I tried to convince them I was trustworthy and would be back later to pay them, but they didn't or wouldn't understand me. After a lot of misunderstandings one of the men disappeared and returned with another man, who fortunately spoke a few words of our language.

He told us in clear and understandable words:

"No money, no car!"

Again I showed the men my credit card, but they didn't even look at it and again shook their heads. I asked them to follow us to a bank or to a cash machine somewhere, but they refused again. I had to pay them in cash now, or else: no car! A bit warily, I offered them to leave my passport behind, but again their answer was the same: cash money, or no car! I asked them to lend me another car, so I could get some money from a nearby bank, but they told me they didn't have another car except their big truck. They seemed very determined. What now? Did they expect me to walk to a nearby bank, to get some money?

At last I begged them to come up with a solution... They retreated and had a heated discussion, and then the third man approached us:

"You leave boy here, take car, get money, pay us, get boy back."

WHAT? Leave one of my boys here? Never in my life! Not in a thousand years! I loved my boys too much to let them serve as a medium of exchange! I shook 'NO' with all my force, but the men remained unrelenting: leave a boy here, or no car!

I was about to refuse again, when John took my arm and pulled me aside:

"This leads us to nothing, Dad. You know I'm able to fend for myself, and my mother always tells me I'm a good judge of character. Those men aren't mean, but I think they had a bad experience in the past, and now they are afraid they will not get their money. Leave me here, and go get some money from a bank! I know you will be back soon."

I hugged him in front of everybody. My dear friend, my precious buddy. I love that boy with all my heart!

John went to the men, and told them he would stay until his father returned with the money to pay them.

Immediately Davey joined him:

"I will stay with you! That's what friends are for. Come on, Dad, go get the money. We are waiting for you!"

A man handed me the keys of our van, and drew some lines on a filthy piece of paper, showing me the way to the nearest bank. I drove off, and half an hour later I was back in the garage, with little Harry and Nicky both propped together in the front seat and waving at the men.

I paid the men, and now they offered us their apologies. The third man told us they once trusted a foreigner with a credit card, and that had cost them a lot of money. They offered us fresh coffee for me and a drink for the boys, which we gratefully accepted, of course.

In good harmony we resumed our journey, two hours later, and on brand new front tires.

Soon we approached the Rumanian border, where the customs agents stopped us, looking strict and asking for our papers.

I showed them our passports, and they looked critically at all the boys:

"How come they have different last names?"

I explained how important Rumanian friends had invited us to spend the holidays in the mountains; and the boys were here with the consent of their parents. I showed them the sealed letters of consent. The customs officers looked them over, and took the papers to make copies.

After a while they returned with more questions:

"How long do you want to stay in Rumania?"

"For about three weeks. Then we will return to our own country."

"How come one of those boys is of a Gypsy origin?"

"That's my own son! I've already handed you his papers. What's your problem, officer? Are you discriminating?"

I tried to speak as loudly as possible, and that seemed to work. A lot of other people looked at our officers now, and they didn't seem to like that. They started to search our belongings painstakingly. After a long search they seemed satisfied, and handed our passports and papers back. I looked everything carefully over; to be sure we had all the passports and our original papers back.

All of a sudden other officers showed up, and they wanted to recheck everything. Again they took all the papers with them, again I had to explain why I had a Gypsy boy in my car, again they painstakingly searched our van.

The boys got impatient, but I asked them to please keep their mouths shut! Little Harry looked pale and shivered.

Eventually I had to file a request for a 'visa' and, of course, to pay for it. I had to pay three weeks of 'road tax', and they registered the car number in my passport, so that I couldn't leave the country without our van. They also wanted to check my cash money, so I showed them my wallet and counted my money while they looked. They asked me why I had so much cash money with me, and I explained I had to feed four hungry growing boys during three weeks...

At last they reluctantly let us go, warning us to leave the country within three weeks, or else we would be in big trouble.

We drove off with deep sighs of relief, and hurriedly resumed our journey to the Rumanian mountains.

Little Harry trembled all over and started to sob:

"I don't like it when they act so controlling and almighty. It's as if I'm a little boy again, and they could send us to prison at any moment..."

Nicky put his arms around his friend and comforted him:

"But they DIDN'T send us to prison, and we ARE in Rumania now! Aren't you happy you're going to see your people tomorrow?"

Little Harry dried his eyes, and his sun inside started to shine again. He climbed onto John's lap and fastened his seatbelt around both of them. I decided to let it go this time. Next time I would explain the dangers of sitting together in one seat, but not now. I scanned the car stereo for some nice music, and soon we all sang along with the songs.

We drove for hours and hours, without any further delays. Slowly the boys got tired and bored, and started to nag.

Suddenly little Harry jumped up and shouted:

"THERE THEY ARE!"

He pointed at a couple of steep mountains in a far distance, glowing bluish in the bright sunlight:

"That's where my people are! Now I'm nearly home..."

33. Openness; and everything is so NORMAL here.

I looked at the printout of our email, showing a very brief route description:

'When see mountains, drive path to hotel at foot and sleep there.'

Well... I hoped I would be able to find that hotel! What if we took another route, and didn't arrive at the foot of the mountains where we should be? Only one way seemed to lead to the mountains in the distance, a small winding path full of potholes. I drove our van into the junction.

"Yes, Dad, I remember we always took this path! Be careful, because we are nearing very steep hills and ravines."

"Do you know where we can find a hotel somewhere?"

"Yes, we always got coffee there. It's about an hour's driving from here, just before you have to climb the mountains."

For the next hour I navigated around potholes, drove along steep hills, avoided enormous boulders, and guided the van through narrow windings.

Little Harry sat glued to the front window, and became more and more enthusiastic:

"There we once lost a caravan, in that ravine! A wheel spindle broke, and it tumbled down. Fortunately nobody got hurt."

Slowly the path broadened, and all of a sudden we entered a natural court, at the foot of the mountains, surrounded by huge rocks and steep ravines.

There was our hotel. A small three-story building, built against a wall.

I parked our van in a small clearing, and we went to the hotel. Little Harry enthusiastically lead the way. He opened the front door, and we entered a small hallway, where a woman awaited us with a big smile on her face. We couldn't understand what she said, but we certainly could feel her welcome. Little Harry told her something in the foreign language, and now her whole face beamed. She took little Harry into her arms and nearly crushed him.

Little Harry put his arms around her neck and beamed too:

"She recognizes me, Dad! She knows who we are, and why we are here. She wants me to tell you we are very welcome."

The woman put little Harry down and took Nicky into her arms, trying to crush him too. She put Nicky down and took John into her arms, and then Davey. She turned around and yes, she took me into her arms, trying to crush me too!

She told me a few words I couldn't understand. Little Harry translated:

"She knows you were once our leader, and she is honored to have you in her hotel. As long as we are here we don't have to pay for anything."

"Tell her I am honored too, and I certainly will not forget her. She may ask me anything she wants at any time."

Little Harry translated my words, and the woman thanked me. She beckoned us to a small pub, where she brought coffee for me and juice for the boys. John asked her for 'milk', and promptly got an enormous glass, filled to the brim.

Little Harry chattered along, seemingly telling her everything that had happened in his young life. The woman listened in awe, sometimes asking short questions, now and then getting tears in her eyes.

After a while a man approached us and spoke a few words, translated by little Harry:

"Dinner's nearly ready, Dad. We will go to another room now."

We followed the man to the dining room, where we sat down. Soon we felt overwhelmed by the diversity of the foods. It looked like a king's feast, and it tasted delicious. More food came from the kitchen, until we felt stuffed to the brim. We thanked the woman and the man abundantly.

Little Harry translated their words, smiling:

"They tell us only the best of the best is good enough for a Gypsy king, his little prince, and his other sons. Tomorrow our guide will arrive from the mountains and show us the way to our camp."

The woman took us upstairs, and showed us two rooms with double beds and one room with a single bed. We took our possessions from the van to our rooms, and took a little rest. We kicked our shoes into a corner and plunged onto the beds, tired but happy we finally had reached the mountains.

After a while we went outside, to have a closer look at the surroundings. Little Harry knew the way, and had us climb a steep path between two huge rocks. Suddenly we arrived at a small platform, allowing us a beautiful view of the mountains and the setting sun. We all felt very small and vulnerable under the charm of Mother Nature. I sat down, while little Harry and Nicky took their places between my knees, and John and Davey leaned into my sides. We sat there for a long time, enjoying the splendid play of light and dark between the mountains, all the different colors of the vegetation, and the snow on the tops.

I felt at home here; and totally in harmony with nature and with my boys. I think we all felt the same. We belonged here. This was our land.

We waited until sunset, and then slowly went back to the hotel in silence, still overwhelmed by the beauty of nature. In the small bar we got another drink and a tasty snack, and then we decided to call it a day. We went to our rooms, where we divided the beds. Nicky wanted to sleep with little Harry and me, and John and Davey wanted to sleep together; so the single bed remained empty.

The bathroom held a real bath, and of course the boys wanted to use it. John and Davey bathed first, then Nicky and little Harry bathed together, and eventually I bathed, accompanied by my little soul mate who wanted to help me wash my back. We kissed goodnight, and crawled under the blankets. I felt little Harry crawl onto my stomach, put my arm around Nicky, and was gone before I could utter a word.

I woke up with a softly snoring boy on my stomach and another softly snoring boy in my right arm. I softly grinned and tried to look at my watch.

Immediately little Harry opened his eyes:

"Yawn... what's the time, Dad?"

"Seven thirty; and I have to use the toilet."

"Coming with you..."

He jumped out of bed, bright and shining; and impatiently waited for old me, being a bit stiff. Together we went to the toilet and crossed our streams, giggling like little children. We peeked around the corner of the other room, where John and Davey both softly snored, entangled into each other.

Little Harry attacked the pile under the blankets:

"Attack of the Resurrected Gypsy Prince!"

John groaned and tried to push little Harry off the bed, while Davey looked around with watery eyes:

"What's up? Where are we?"

At that moment Nicky appeared and immediately jumped onto the pile:

"Attack of King Nicky The Great Green Dragon!"

In no time the bed was a mixture of boys, pillows, and blankets, all flying through the air and landing again. I laughed at the funny sight, and went back to my room to try to stretch my old muscles.

After a while we washed our faces, dressed, and went downstairs, where the man and the woman were ready for us. Breakfast was waiting, and the boys attacked the food. They emptied the table in no time, but the man brought more food from the kitchen, until everybody was satisfied and stuffed to the brim.

The door opened, and a huge Gypsy man appeared, wearing a gray fur coat, ducking his head to be able to enter the room.

Little Harry immediately jumped up and threw himself at the man, with an Indian howl:

"Michail!"

The man looked surprised, lifted little Harry off the ground, and held him at arm's length. He looked at him again, and now his eyes began to sparkle.

Slowly a big smile grew on his face:

"Issi Harold?"

"Taj!!! Michail..."

They tried to suffocate each other, and danced around the room, turning around and around and both grinning like crazy:

"That's the man who always looked after me when my parents had to do other things, Dad. He's like my second father."

The huge man put little Harry down; and embraced me, nearly crushing my ribs. He spoke a couple of words I didn’t understand:

"Michail tells you he is proud of you, because you raised me to be the fine young man I am now."

"Tell him I am proud of him, because he helped you to be the fine young man you already were before I met you."

A smile from ear to ear lighted Michail's face, and again he nearly crushed me. He lifted all the other boys one by one from the ground, and greeted them by kissing them on their noses. Nicky kissed him back, and they immediately seemed to like each other.

We sat down and tried to have a talk, while little Harry tried to translate everything, now and then looking for the right words. Michail seemed to help him, and soon he started to speak the language more and more fluently. He hopped from Michail's lap to my lap, and back to Michail's lap, sending his love to both of us, smiling from ear to ear, apparently delighted to be united with his second father.

He hopped back to my lap; and this time Nicky climbed onto Michail's lap, looking up at him with beaming eyes. Michail put his big arms around him with a broad smile, and Nicky let himself completely melt into the fur coat, looking very happy.

Michail told us, translated by little Harry, that he was asked to guide us to their secluded camp in the mountains. He would drive at a slow pace, so that we could follow him through the dense forest.

Nicky looked at me, with a longing in his eyes:

"Pop, I want to accompany Michail during our drive."

Little Harry translated the request, and Michail nodded his consent.

We went to our rooms, gathered our belongings, and took them to the van. We thanked the hotel owners, and promised to visit them again before we returned to our country. Nicky clambered into Michail's huge truck with a little help, and we entered our van. We waved at the hotel owners and drove off.

Within ten minutes we hadn't the faintest idea where we were. There seemed to be no road at all. We drove for a long time through a dense forest, along steep ravines, climbed, and descended. Suddenly we entered a beautiful valley, bathed in the sunlight, surrounded by thick bushes and huge mountains.

Little Harry sat glued to the front window, trembling all over:

"I'm home, Dad! This is where I am from."

A couple of sun burnt and totally nude children surrounded our van, laughing and cheering, pushing each other, and trying to peek inside. Michail parked his truck under a big tree, and I parked our van next to his truck. Little Harry jumped out of the van, and was immediately surrounded by the children, calling him 'Harold', trying to touch him, and asking him questions.

They tried to take him with them, but he turned around to me:

"Dad, my friends want to take us to our playground. Am I allowed, and may Nicky, John, and Davey join us?"

I nodded, a bit overwhelmed; and little Harry shucked his clothes with a broad smile on his face. He threw them somewhere into the van, and beckoned Nicky to do the same. A moment later they joined their friends, both totally naked and with their arms around each other. John and Davey hesitantly followed them, still dressed. They disappeared into the bushes, leaving me on my own.

There I was, in a strange country, amongst people I didn't understand, not knowing what to do now. My only hold, my little Gypsy boy, had disappeared somewhere into the bushes, and I had no idea where he could be. What should I do now? I looked around...

Michail seemed to understand my feelings. He smiled, took my hand, and guided me to a big square, surrounded by caravans, with a smoldering fire in the middle. There we entered one of the caravans.

I had to wait until my eyes were used to the darkness, and then I saw our interpreter!

He embraced me like an old friend:

"Welcome to our clan! Would you like to change your clothes now? We want you to wear something special for the ceremony."

He showed me a beautiful black and gold garment, with lots of buttons and decorations. It looked like a King's robe.

"This will be your ceremonial clothing. You will need it to officially greet your people and undergo the ceremony, within half an hour from now. Now I will accompany you to your own caravan. Please follow me."

He guided me to a huge black-and-gold caravan, decorated with lots of beautiful flowers. He opened the door and I went inside, a bit hesitantly. He handed me the garment, and left me alone.

I looked around, and for the first time in this life I saw the inside of a Gypsy caravan. I was surprised, because it looked so roomy. A sitting room held three couches around a table and a fireplace. The caravan counted two bedrooms, both with double beds; a shower, a small kitchen, and lots of small lockers and cupboards. Everything was clean and cozy. Was this our own caravan, as they had promised us?

I went to one of the bedrooms and dressed into the garment, which fitted perfectly. How did they know my sizes? I had no idea.

I sat down onto one of the couches and looked outside, where a few men attended the smoldering fire. More and more people appeared and took their places around the fire. A violin player appeared, took his instrument, and started to play a slow and sad Gypsy song...

Suddenly I felt AT HOME. This was my land, they were my people!

I rose from the couch, and went outside. Immediately the interpreter approached me and took me to the circle forming around the fire. The playing children appeared from the bushes, still giggling and pushing each other. John and Davey now both carried their clothes under their arms, and looked delighted. Michail beckoned my four boys to our black-and-gold caravan, where they disappeared inside after waving at me.

A small boy approached me, tanned all over his body. He smiled at me with sparkling eyes, and climbed onto my lap. Another small boy climbed onto my lap from the other side, and they started to compete for the best place. I put my arms around them, and they both seemed to feel safe and totally at ease.

More people joined the circle and sat down. My own boys reappeared, all four of them clad in beautiful black-and-gold garments, just like my own, and fitting perfectly. They looked gorgeous! They sat down next to me, with proud faces, and little Harry whispered a few words to the two small boys on my lap.

They both kissed me and went to the other men, where they crawled onto another lap.

"They will be back after the ceremony, Dad. They seem to like you. What do you think of our new clothes?"

"They are beautiful! You all look like princes."

"Well, you look like a king yourself! And of course from now on you ARE our King."

A second violin player joined the circle, and soon both players started to play together, a harmonious melody that touched my heart deeply. I got tears in my eyes and furtively wiped them away. Old feelings welled up in my soul, hovering just below the surface. I felt strong and mighty, as if I really WAS their king, and they played only on my behalf...

The circle was full now. The violin players let the music slowly fade away, and took their place amongst the others. Everybody was silent, even the smallest children, and they all expectantly looked at me and my boys...

Little Harry's grandmother rose and spoke, translated by the interpreter:

"We welcome you all amidst our and your people. We greet you, Harry, who once was our beloved King, and now you are the guardian and the father of our little Prince. We greet you, Harold Janovski, our beloved Prince and heir to the throne. We greet you, John, the brother and friend of our beloved Prince. We greet you, Davey, the friend of our beloved Prince. We greet you, Nicky, now the best friend of our beloved Prince, and once our beloved King. We offer all of you our love and protection. Now the ceremony starts. Let the King speak..."

She sat down, and now everybody expectantly looked at me...

Huh? They wanted ME to speak? Why had nobody warned me before? What did they expect of me now? Why didn't I get the time to think about what I should tell them? But they all looked at me, waiting for me, with sparkling eyes that reflected the camp fire...

Suddenly I felt that same power return, strong, mighty, and royal. Here I was, once their Beloved King, returning to My People.

I rose from my seat, and looked into their eyes:

"My dear people! My soul remembers everything, and is deeply touched. Today I send my love and my strength to all of you, remembering you from the past. From now on we will be one in our thoughts, in our feelings, and in our souls. I promise you I will do everything in my power to help, protect, and guide my son and our little Prince, until he will be strong enough to be our King. I am obliged and glad to be his Father, and I am grateful to meet you, my own people, again in this life. I deeply respect you, and I love you all. Hereby I send my blessings to all of you. I have spoken."

The circle remained silent until the violin players took their instruments and started to play, a beautiful melody full of life and joy. Suddenly everybody started to clap along with the music. They danced and cheered, and a couple of strong men took me onto their shoulders. They carried me around the circle, where everybody touched my feet and bowed, until I reached my place where they sat me down. The violin players stopped, and everybody was silent again.

Little Harry's grandmother rose and spoke:

"Let our beloved Prince speak."

Little Harry rose without hesitation, and somebody offered him a wood block. He climbed onto the block, and looked around with beaming eyes. He was a beautiful sight, with his black-and-gold clothes, his light brownish hair, and his deep blue eyes that now radiated pure royalty. He WAS a prince. My prince, my precious little soul mate. My beloved son...

He started to speak in his own language, with his high-pitched boyish and melodious voice, and everybody was dead silent while the interpreter translated his words to us in a soft voice:

"Thank you, my people, and I love you all. You are my kin, and I am glad to be with you today, after such a long separation. I don’t use many words, because I am only a snotty-nosed eight-year-old little boy. But someday I will be your King, and I promise you I will do everything I can to prepare myself for my task. My Dad already promised me to help me with everything, until I am old and wise enough to be able to lead you. You can rely on me! I have spoken."

He jumped off the wood block and climbed onto my lap, softly trembling but with a beaming face. I put my arms around him and kissed him, while the violins started to play and everybody enthusiastically started to clap. I rose and lifted him onto my shoulders. Together we rounded the circle, where everybody touched his small feet and bowed. We sat down again, and little Harry resumed his place between the other boys.

Little Harry's grandmother rose again and spoke:

"Nicky, once our beloved king, do you want to speak?"

Nicky looked at me, and I nodded encouragingly. He rose to his feet, and somebody lifted him onto the wood block. There he stood, a vulnerable little boy with clear green eyes, nervously fumbling with his clothes... He looked around and blushed. Then his demeanor changed, and the royalty shone through.

He straightened his shoulders, and spoke:

"Like my best friend Harry, I'm also only a snotty-nosed eight-year-old boy. But I love our Prince, and I will do everything I can to help him. When I am a grown-up I will still love him, and I will always do my best to be a good friend to him and to you all. Thank you for letting me be here with you. I love this place, and I love you all. I don't remember being a king, but one thing I know for sure: my best friend is a Prince. Huh? Oh yeah: and I have spoken."

He jumped off the wood block, and I took him onto my shoulders. The violins played, the people clapped their hands, and I carried my little friend around the circle, where everybody touched his feet. We sat down and Nicky resumed his place, still blushing.

Little Harry's grandmother rose again and spoke:

"John, the big brother of our beloved Prince, and once a respected member of our people, do you want to speak?"

John hesitantly stood up and climbed onto the wood block. He looked around the circle with a bit of fear in his eyes, and then he looked at me.

I sent him my love, and now he smiled:

"I want to thank you for inviting us here. This is a wonderful place, and I feel at home already. I also want to thank my real Dad, Jack, who is in another place now. He taught me a lot of things about love and respect. I also want to thank my second Dad, for helping me and guiding me. And I love my little brother, our Prince. I promise you I will do everything I can to help him and to protect him. That's all I have to say for now. I'm very pleased to be here. I have spoken."

He jumped off the wood block and turned to me. The violins started to play, the people started to clap, and I took my dear friend onto my shoulders. Together we rounded the circle, where everybody touched his feet. He sat down, suddenly a bit shy, and leaned into me.

Again little Harry's grandmother rose and spoke:

"Davey, once one of our beloved and respected members, do you want to speak?"

Davey climbed onto the wood block without any hesitation:

"I never thought I would be here with you, and I am very grateful. My own father abused me for many years, and I thought I never would trust a man any more. Until my second Dad turned up in my life, and let me see how a REAL Dad behaves. I want to let you know how much I love him, and I trust him totally and absolutely. He is a wonderful Dad! I'm also delighted with my three brothers, and I hope I will be able to pay them back in the future for all the love they are giving me now. I am proud of my new family, I will help our Prince where and when I can, and I thank you for inviting me here. Oh, and I have spoken."

Immediately a couple of men stood up, with strained faces and angry eyes. One of them addressed Davey, translated by our interpreter:

"Do you want us to punish that man that abused you? We all want to serve you, and teach him a lesson he will never forget."

"NO... Please don't! I want you to send him your LOVE instead. They did already punish him for what he did. Now I want him to change, so that in his next life he will be a better and more caring man."

The circle was dead silent, until the violins started to play. Now everybody stood up as one man and clapped their hands, faster and faster, until they all started to cheer and carried Davey around on tens of careful hands. They kept on cheering long after Davey sat down again, now severely blushing.

Little Harry's grandmother rose to her feet and spoke:

"We are PROUD to have you in our middle. We all send you our love and deep respect. Today you have proven to be a real MAN."

Davey again colored a deep red and looked at his feet, bashfully and not knowing what to do. John protectively draped his arms around his friend's shoulders, while Nicky and little Harry joined them in the cuddle.

I didn't know what suddenly happened to me; but I rose to my feet, and everybody went silent. They all looked at me with questioning eyes.

I spread my arms, like an eagle spreads his wings, and started to send everybody my love. I could feel Jack step into my body, with his arms along my arms and with his hands matching my hands. My hands started to glow, and an intense power radiated into the circle, deeply touching everybody's soul. I felt like a mountain, filled with Mother Earth energy, reaching out and enveloping every single soul of my people, wherever on earth.

My mouth started to form words, and I spoke:

"This is a greeting from your ancestors to you. Please receive our appreciation and respect. Your next king will be known all over the world. He is predestined to fulfill grand deeds. We send you all our love and our blessings."

The glowing faded away, and I heard Jack's voice in my head:

"Thank you. I guided you, but you were using your own powers."

The Wise Woman rose to her feet, and looked around the circle:

"This is real and genuine. I saw this beautiful spirit and his light, and I felt his enormous powers. He is one of us."

They all bowed their heads until the violins started to play again, a beautiful melody of hope and longing... Slowly all the people rose to their feet and went to their caravans, where they closed their doors.

I went to my black-and-gold caravan, followed by my four boys. We were all deeply touched, and sat down in silence. Little Harry climbed onto my lap, while we all stared at the empty circle and the smoldering fire. Now and then a man appeared and threw a branch onto it; and for a while small flames licked at the branch, until it disappeared into the glowing ashes.

After a while Michail showed up, carrying a huge basket. He approached our caravan and knocked on the door. Nicky rushed to the door, and greeted Michail by throwing his small arms around Michail's enormous waist. Michail grinned and lifted him into the air, kissed his nose, and sat him down onto a couch.

He put the basket on the table and told us, translated by little Harry:

"We wish you a good appetite."

He left the caravan, John opened the basket, and we looked in awe at all kinds of delicious things to eat, drink and munch. We sat down, and carefully put all the yummy things onto the table, setting the basket aside. We took the golden plates, and the boys filled them to the brim.

Little Harry explained what a couple of the foods were made from:

"This small loaf of bread is made of barley, and that's baked from rye. The pate, I'm not sure about, but it could be hare. Those eggs are filled with ginger and a mixture of spices. The drink is made out of fermented mushrooms with salt and pepper. The meat is lamb, and those crackers are made of rice."

Everything tasted excellent; with the exception of the filled eggs, which had too strong a flavor for our taste. After we were stuffed, we put the remainders back into the basket. John and Davey washed the plates, and carefully dried them before putting them back.

Suddenly Davey started to grin, shaking his head:

"I never thought I once would be eating from golden plates!"

We heard children's voices outside the caravan, and somebody knocked on the door. John opened the door, where a bunch of nude children asked for 'Harold'. Little Harry went to the door to answer them, and turned around to face me:

"Dad, please may we play outside? My friends want to follow a new trail they've found."

I wished them good luck, and my four boys shucked their clothes and joined the impatiently waiting Gypsy youth. They disappeared through the bushes.

I smiled, and neatly folded our ceremonial clothes before putting them away in one of the lockers. I dressed into my 'normal' clothes and went outside, where I joined the men that sat in front of another caravan, softly talking in their own language.

Soon the interpreter joined us; and for the next few hours I told them my life story in my own country, with its oddities and strange habits -- at least in their eyes. They couldn't imagine why our children had to be dressed all the time, even when they were swimming... their own children only dressed when it was too cold, or when they went to a gadjo town to beg there for food, or to do little jobs to earn some money. They started to regularly dress only after they reached puberty and tried to get a wife...

The Wise Woman joined us, and complimented me with my strong and hearty spirit friend. She told me she even was a bit jealous...

"You are such a beautiful soul yourself, and it feels like you two belong to each other and are complementing each other's powers."

Suddenly I heard Jack's voice, somewhere in my head:

"We haven't even started. Together we WILL change the world. Just go on writing your book 'Little Harry'..."

I was in doubt again: did I fantasize that voice in my head, or was this really Jack speaking?

I decided to ask the Wise Woman about my doubts:

"How come every time I hear the voice of my spirit friend in my head, I think I'm fantasizing that voice?"

"That's simple. Spirits are 'thought forms', and they communicate with us through the channel we call 'imagination'. We are thought forms ourselves; only we are trapped within a body, while spirits don't have a body and are totally free. Indeed we ALL are spirits, with or without a body. The problem comes from the fact that our OWN spirit can create thoughts as well, and we 'hear' our own thoughts through that same imagination-channel. So when you 'hear' a thought, you will never be sure whether it is a thought from one of your spirit friends, or whether it is your own 'imagination' you were hearing."

"Thank you, now I understand how it works. When I think about it, actually it's quite normal to be in doubt... But now I have another question: How come you could see Jack clearly, while I'm always thinking I'm fantasizing what I see in my mind?"

"That's actually the same, just change the word 'hear' into 'see'. All you can see, hear, feel, or even smell, is coming from the same 'imagination-channel'. It could be created by yourself, or imprinted into your brain by your spirit friend."

"Thank you. Now could you tell me something about that enormous power we all felt?"

"There's infinite Power in the Universe, only the 'voltage' is too high to be usable for us human beings. Fortunately some people have the 'gift' to be 'transformers'. They transform the too high voltage into a lower voltage, which we can use to heal ourselves or others. We call those people 'healers'. You are a forceful healer, and the spirits are able to use you as a powerful transformer to send their too high voltage through you to us. That's what happened in the circle today. It was a beautiful and spectacular sight, with all kinds of colors and swirling vortexes whirling around."

The door of one of the caravans opened, and two small whirlwinds tumbled over each other and climbed onto my lap, grinning and competing for the best place. Obviously they were back from their afternoon-nap. I smiled and put my arms around both of them. With a sigh they melted into me. More children appeared and found themselves a lap to sit on. I was surprised by the friendliness and carefulness of the grown-ups. They all seemed to like children, and no harsh word was spoken. Most boys chose a male lap, and most girls chose a female lap to sit on.

Even more surprising was the openness of the children, who didn't seem to have any inhibitions at all. They all looked totally content and happy, with satisfied faces and curious eyes. I could get used to the sight!

The interpreter approached me, this time a bit more hesitantly:

"We are all going for a -- what's the right word -- I think it should be 'shower'. Do you want to join us?"

Of course I wanted to join them! But a shower that was big enough for all of us, in this place? The grown-ups disappeared into their caravans and soon came out totally naked, even little Harry's grandmother. I went into my caravan, threw my clothes into a corner, and quickly joined them, now very curious.

We disappeared into the bushes, and entered a small path through the mountains. In the far distance I could hear the sound of fast moving water. Was that where we were heading? After a while we descended into a ravine. There we saw a beautiful waterfall, sparkling in the bright sunlight...

All the children were already gathered there, frolicking around and chasing each other. Among them I saw John and Nicky, so I assumed Davey and little Harry would be there too, though I didn't see them. We went to the waterfall, and everybody dived under the splashing water. At first the water felt very cold, but after a few seconds my skin went red and then the feeling was really nice.

Two men carried a basket and distributed lumps of a yellowish substance I assumed to be soap. We started to lather up, and all the children chose a grown-up to help them. I saw Nicky look around and of course choose Michail. Davey waved at me, and chose a younger man that looked really nice. My two small boys approached me, smiling from ear to ear and expectantly looking up at me. I ruffled their hair and nodded. They leaned into me, and I started to wash them. In a distance I saw little Harry, waving at me, carefully lathered up by a man I didn't recognize.

After the grown-ups had washed the small ones they started to wash each other, without the slightest inhibition. Eventually everybody was clean and dived into the waterfall, frolicking like little children. We chased each other, splashed more water, were attacked by gangs of children, and had the times of our lives.

John suddenly appeared and tackled me, sticking his tongue out. I chased him, but of course he was too fast and disappeared into the mass. I will get him later for that! Davey suddenly pushed me, and I stumbled over a kneeling Nicky, while little Harry laughed at the sight of poor me, laying on my back in the stream, with my legs high into the air. I will get them too!

One by one we went back to the camp, dead tired but feeling totally contented. The two small boys hung onto my arms, while my four boys surrounded me and excitedly told me about their adventures with the other boys. They had chased a pig through the woods, but couldn't catch it.

Back at the camp the men had a surprise. They had raked up the fire and were roasting a lamb, turning it around on a big skewer. We found a place around the fire and patiently waited until our meal was ready, in the meantime softly talking to each other.

The boys were very enthusiastic, and wanted to live here for the rest of their lives:

"Everything is so NORMAL here, Dad! Nobody is bothering anybody else, no one is telling you what you have to do, everything is allowed unless you are harming somebody else. You can choose to wear clothes or not, depending on the weather. You can embrace a friend without everybody calling you a 'fag' or a 'homo'. It doesn't matter how you look or who you are, you are always totally accepted and taken into the community. Men are living with men, women are living with women, and nobody has any problems with it. I wish the rest of the world were like this!"

I sincerely agreed with them, and we all hugged each other for a long time, again joined by the two small boys who seemed to have adopted me.

I was curious; and asked little Harry who they were:

"Don't you know? They are Michail's sons. They were only toddlers when I lived here, and sometimes I played with them. But at that time they were too small to have real fun with."

After many hours of gently talking, translated by our tireless interpreter; and enjoying the feeling of being together and having all the time in the world, eventually the lamb was ready to be eaten. The men had used lots of herbs and oil, painstakingly observed by our little cook; and a delicious aroma filled the air. They divided the lamb into chunks, and sliced the chunks into smaller pieces. We all got a big slice of lamb to munch, and to me it was the most delicious meat I ever tasted.

Even little Harry nodded approvingly:

"Not bad, that's the taste of home I missed so much! They could have used some more garlic however."

I was pleased they hadn't, but I didn't tell him. I helped the two small boys, by dividing their meat into smaller pieces; and they looked at me with grateful eyes and filled mouths, the fat dripping from their chins. I used a handful of grass to clean their faces.

Michail approached me, grinning, and translated by little Harry:

"If my sons are a nuisance to you, just send them away and I will take care of them myself."

I assured him I could handle them easily, and he ruffled their hair before going back, still grinning.

I wondered where their mother was, so I asked little Harry:

"She died when they were very young, and Michail never married again. That's why he didn't have to work for a couple of years, and thus also could look after me when I was a smaller boy."

I marveled at the thought of a community that's totally self-sufficient and looks after everybody, regardless of who they are or how they behave.

Slowly the sun set, and here and there people disappeared into their caravans. Michail took his boys with him, and we went to our caravan. We prepared the two double beds for the night, and decided to call it a day. John and Davey slept together in one bed, and Nicky and little Harry slept with me in the other bed. Soon we were sound asleep.

In the middle of the night a fidgeting Nicky woke me up:

"Pop, I have to use the toilet. Do you know where it is?"

I showed him the way to the small cabin, and got a roll of toilet paper from one of the suitcases. He did his thing, washed his hands in the small kitchen sink, and crawled into bed next to me, feeling very cold now.

I warmed him in my arms, and again we drifted off into a deep sleep, until the morning sun and joyful sounds from the outside woke me up.

34. Going home, where we all feel homesick.

Slowly I opened my eyes and yawned. At first I didn't realize where I was, until the memories of the past few days came back into my mind. The mountains, the waterfall, the lamb, and the two little boys... With a shock I sat upright in my empty double bed and looked around. Where were my boys?

A gust of panic grabbed me, and I jumped out of bed. What had they done to my boys? Had they kidnapped them? I hastened to the window, my heart bumping in my chest. Couldn't I really trust those gypsies? Where was everybody?

A sigh of relief escaped me. There they were, among a whole bunch of other children, sitting around the smoldering campfire and roasting marshmallows on thin stakes, with beaming faces and slowly munching on the readied ones. I slumped down onto one of the three couches and started to laugh. Why did I panic? Didn't I trust my own people? Was I so affected by what others used to think about 'gypsies'? I washed my face, casually dressed, and went outside.

"Hi, Dad, it's marvelous here! Come on, sit here and join us. Do you want a marshmallow?"

Little Harry patted the bench next to him. I sat down on the bench and took a stake and a marshmallow. Before I could do anything else, two small whirlwinds stormed at me and climbed onto my lap, competing for the best place. I took two more stakes, put marshmallows on them, and helped the boys to keep them just above the fire. Impatiently all three of us waited until they were done. We blew on them until they were less hot, and munched on them with beaming faces. Again I felt like a little child myself, and immensely enjoyed the small festivity.

More grown-ups and children joined the fire and started to roast the remaining marshmallows, until at last the basket was emptied. In the meantime a few women had set up a table, and were preparing small rolls. They distributed them until everybody was stuffed. Then everybody went back to their caravans, to wash their hands and faces. My own boys joined me at our caravan, munching on the last marshmallows and licking their fingers.

John smiled at me, with a naughty twinkle in his eyes:

"You were sleeping so angelically, softly snoring, with your thumb in your mouth and a finger in your nose, that we decided to let you sleep and left the caravan; carefully so as not to wake you up."

I laughed and tickled his ribs. He squealed and tried to tickle me back. A moment later I had four grinning boys around my neck, trying to floor me. Of course they won, and triumphantly pinned me to the floor, tickling me wherever they could, until I begged them for mercy.

"Say 'uncle'."

"Never!"

With all my force I got up and threw them off my stomach, using one of the couches as a grip. Before I could escape, they had pinned me again.

"Now say 'uncle'!"

"I will go home alone, without taking you with me!"

"Yes, pleeeease! We like it here!"

Somebody knocked on the door, so they let me go, promising to get me back later on. They disappeared into the bushes, throwing their arms around each other and joining a whole bunch of tanned and joyfully chattering children.

I went outside again, soon joined by our interpreter and Michail. In a distance I heard the faint sounds of leaving cars, so I asked Michail about them.

"Most men and women are working today. Some are specialized in selling second hand cars, others are repairing tools, and most women are mending clothes and selling them on the market. We always try to be as honest as possible. But sometimes, when we don't have enough money to buy food or clothes, we don't have another option but to take from others what we need, just to stay alive. That's bad enough, but when you have no other options left, and you see your own children starving and begging for food..."

His eyes started to water up, and he dried them with a sleeve of his garment, bashfully looking into space:

"Sometimes we take our children with us, neatly dressed, to beg for food or money. Most of the time they are chased away, or worse. And when they are back in the camp, they are always miserable. Then we are driving far away, to another region, and taking from there anything we can lay our hands on, to sell it and buy food for our starving children. We are very careful not to steal from our own folks, or from people that are as poor as we are. We're taking goods only from rich people who don't really miss it, and only when it's absolutely necessary, to let our children survive."

We sat down in silence for a long time. I started to understand how my people had to struggle for life. And now I also started to understand why they were accused everywhere of stealing and robbing...

The day passed by, and felt like one big vacation. Now and then one of the boys showed up for a quick hug before he went back to the playgrounds. In the afternoon the boys took me with them to their secret and hidden places in the woods and around several small waterfalls. They showed me the parking place where the men had parked their cars and caravans. They took me to a path where they sometimes saw wild pigs and deer, and showed me lots of wild rabbit holes. They now looked like wild animals themselves, sun burnt and as naked as the day they were born.

Again we showered together under the waterfall, and again we joined the camp fire, softly talking and telling each other funny stories, translated by our tireless interpreter, who happened to know a lot of funny stories himself. My two small friends fell asleep on my lap, until Michail took them to his own caravan, offering me his excuses for saddling me up with their welfare. I laughed, and told him I very much enjoyed their company.

At night we slept like horses; during the day the boys were busy playing, exploring, hunting, and enjoying themselves immensely; while I talked to the men and understood more and more about their habits and oddities. They seemed to absolutely trust me, and discussed everything without any shame. Slowly the picture arose of a proud nation, suppressed and attacked by everyone else for ages, sometimes barely able to survive. They were distrusting every 'gadjo', as they used to call strangers; and the men were only sometimes allowed to marry a wife from outside their clan, if the woman proved to have been a Gypsy herself in at least one of her past lives.

That had happened to little Harry's mother, who was brought from the far North to the mountains by his father, during one of his expeditions. The Wise Woman had tested her, and confirmed she was of royal blood and had been a Gypsy in a couple of her past lives. They got permission to marry, and a year later their little heir to the throne was born; resembling his mother with light brownish hair and deep blue eyes. They all adored him, and were very sad not to know where he lived after the wise women told them his parents had passed away and she had contacted their spirits, but couldn't find the little boy.

Fortunately now he was back home, and they were very grateful for everything I had done and still did to help him.

Slowly I got some more insight in their social structure; the children were raised by the grandparents or by older people, while the young parents worked and gathered more life experience before they were allowed to teach their children the important things of life.

I told them about our countries, where the children 'belonged' to their own parents. They thought everybody in our countries must be totally crazy, to let the future of their land be raises by people who actually were still children themselves... that had to be impossible! How could two young people teach their children how to cope with life without knowing how to cope with it themselves, as they clearly lacked the necessary experiences?

Sadly, I had to agree with them. That's why life was so difficult in our countries, compared with what I had seen here. The people here were very poor and had to struggle to survive, but they were happy and always in a good mood, without the everlasting quarreling and the violence that was so characteristic of where I lived, with all the slandering and people trying to impose their crazy beliefs onto all the others...

They also couldn't understand why it was uncommon to touch children in the countries where I lived. Children are living in the womb for nine months, and when they come out, the longing to return into that safe and cozy environment will persist for a long time. That's why every normal child loves to cuddle, with two warming arms around it, resembling the womb... All the children in the world NEED grown-ups to cuddle with, they just can't cope without them. Children who are not allowed to cuddle soon become unkind and aggressive, as every psychologist knows by now.

They didn't have any judges or prisons. They told me they didn't need them. If a member of the clan did something that impaired somebody else, he wasn't punished but simply forced to make up for what he did. When he did something against the law of survival, he was banned for the remainder of his life. When he persisted after being warned, he also was banned until he showed remorse and promised to correct his ways. Everybody was his or her own judge, clean and simple. Only very severe cases could be brought to a group of wise men, who decided what should happen; but fortunately that had never happened so far.

Children were always protected by everybody in the clan. Nothing could happen to them without at least lots of others immediately intervening. They were taught about sexuality and other important things of life from a very young age. They always were totally free to play with each other and with the grown-ups, even sexually, but only when they asked for it themselves. Every serious question was always immediately answered; there were no taboos at all.

They were stunned when I told them about the 'age of consent' in our countries. They nearly couldn't believe we really thought children were asexual beings until they reached a certain age. Why weren't children allowed to be taught sexual things by people who were experienced in it? Everybody knows that certain people are born to love children more than others. Mother Nature does that to allow every child to be loved, even when his or her parents don't. Those people had a special status within the group; they were the teachers and had to coach the future of the clan!

Doing sexual things with a child without the absolute consent of the child was never allowed, and resulted in banning for life. Every child had to feel totally safe all the time and with everybody, as I already had seen before. That was an absolute necessity to raise them into happy and contented beings.

Wow! I supposed our society still had to learn quite a lot about raising their children as was intended by nature, in total freedom...a

Day after day we enjoyed every moment of our visit, until at last the day arrived when we had to go home... Of course the boys wanted to stay longer, but we had to pass the border before the 'visa' in our passports elapsed. They sulked a bit, and John sadly wished those customs officers all the best in hell...

That last evening all the people celebrated our visit by handing us wagon loads of small presents. My two little friends wept and didn't want to leave my lap, until Michail promised them they would see me back some time in the future. We thanked our friends for their hospitality, and the boys and I held a speech, telling them how much we enjoyed our time with them, and how eager we were to return the next year.

That last night we slept in our black-and-gold caravan; softly talking about all the adventures we enjoyed, and about how much we relished our stay here. Eventually we fell asleep, with John and Davey crawled together in one bed, and Nicky and little Harry sleeping in my arms in the other bed.

In the morning we woke up, all five of us being in the same bed, totally entangled into each other, feeling sad and not wanting to leave our friends. At last we had to leave our bed, and unfortunately we had to dress this time...

"I don't want to wear those clothes, Dad. They're sticking to my skin, and they are clammy and stinking. Can't we go in the nude?"

"I really wish we could, but today we are going back to our 'civilization', with all its restrictions and imposed conventions. They would immediately arrest us and probably put me in jail the very moment they saw us."

Four moping boys had to dress into their 'normal' clothes, grumbling and wishing they could stay with their Gypsy friends for the rest of their lives. We went outside, and started to carry our belongings to our golden van. A couple of suntanned children helped us, laughing about our strange looking garments and wondering why we had to wear them while the sun was shining so abundantly. Little Harry tried to explain a few things about our society, but they didn't really get it and thought we had to belong to that strange 'gadjo' world, where they sometimes went to beg for food or money...

Soon everything was stowed away, and we went to the circle around the fire for the last time, where everybody showed up to greet us. We all embraced each other and said our farewell, promising to be back as soon as possible. Little Harry's grandmother showed up and hugged all the boys one by one, telling them how much she loved them and how sad she was to see them go. My two little friends were inconsolable, and Michael had to tear them away from me.

We looked around for the last time, with teary eyes. Feeling as if we were abandoning paradise, we went to our golden van and drove off. We followed Michail's big truck, carrying a sad looking and softly sobbing Nicky in the front seat, blowing his nose in Michail's handkerchief.

I had tears in my eyes and didn't see much of the surroundings, until we parked our van next to the small hotel at the foot of the mountains.

We left our van and entered the hotel, where both owners enthusiastically greeted us. They overloaded us with trays full of delicious foods and gallons of drinks, while little Harry told them everything about all our adventures, and why he hated to wear his clothes.

After a while Michail had to go home, and Nicky started to sob:

"When will I see you back? I want you to be my third Dad."

They cuddled again for a long time, until Nicky felt a little bit better. We embraced Michail for the last time, trying to crunch him while he tried to crunch us. At last he tore himself away, went to his truck, and drove off, sadly waving at us before he disappeared into the woods. Now we were on our own, feeling as if we had to attend a funeral. We thanked the owners of the hotel, and drove off, on our way to our own home in our own country.

The boys were quiet for a long time. I scanned the stereo and found some cheerful background music, but they didn't sing along with it, as they normally did. Within an hour we were back in the 'civilized' world, and on the main road to the border.

Nicky leaned forward and threw his arms around my neck:

"Pop, when are we going back to our friends? I miss them... and I HATE to wear those yucky clothes."

"Well, first of all you have to attend school, to become an educated boy. Maybe in the next vacation we could visit them again."

"I hope so, Pop. I think Michail and I know each other from our past lives. Maybe we even were best friends."

"I wouldn't be surprised. That certainly could be the reason why you liked each other so much."

Nicky offered me a wet kiss, and went back to little Harry to play one of the many small games, trying to divert his thoughts. I tried to divert my thoughts by keeping my eyes on the road and thinking about the good things associated with being home.

The weather didn't help us much, as the sun disappeared behind the clouds and rain started to pour down. I switched the headlights on, to be more visible to the other traffic, and the wipers did their best to keep the front window clear. Soon everything felt clammy and chilly, and again the boys started to mope about those silly clothes they had to wear in our 'civilized' world.

We decided to drive on until we passed the infamous Rumanian border, and then look for a cozy place to have dinner. Fortunately we didn't encounter any problems, despite the heavy rain and now and then a lightning flash.

Around noon we reached the border and had to stop. The customs agents had their fun with checking and double checking everything, but they couldn't find anything irregular; so within half an hour we were on our way again, after paying for another 'road tax'.

I parked the van next to a small restaurant where we ordered pizza, it being the only food that could compete with what we were used to during the past few weeks. Stuffed and feeling better we drove on, until we were too tired and decided to stop at a nice hotel, where we spent the night and slept like horses again.

The next day we drove on and on, now very determined to cover as many kilometers as possible. We were all bored and longed to be home. We made a few stops to stretch our muscles or eat and drink something, and then we drove on again, oblivious of the beauty of the surrounding nature.

That night, again sleeping in a small hotel, we decided to visit the 'beehive' the next day for a couple of hours, to dispel our boredom for a while.

We woke up early, and drove on as fast as we could, to the big town. Suddenly the sun started to shine, and the boys started to sing along with the music. Everything seemed to have cleared up a bit; and the boys started to feel better now, even with their yucky clothes on... John rode shotgun and talked about trivialities. Nicky and little Harry played one of those little games or stared out of the windows.

Davey looked at the GPS receiver, telling us how many kilometers it was to our 'beehive':

"It's only twenty kilometers from here, Dad! Do you know the way this time, or do we have to ask again?"

We entered the town, where of course we had to ask the way again. A friendly woman pointed us to the town center, where we found our five-story beehive. I parked our van in an empty space, and again we were in awe at the sight of the enormous building. Masses of people went in and out, many of them dragging little children with them and looking bored.

We entered the building and looked around, trying to determine where everything could be. The boys wanted to visit the school section first, so we took the escalators to the third floor. Soon they found the section that sold nice school diaries, but unfortunately those were in a foreign language so they couldn't use them. We went on, walking from one section to the other. We marveled at the sight of brand new computers and very expensive plasma television sets, tried out headphones, played with gadgets, looked at the newest fashion in off the rack clothes, and rushed to the next section to have a look what's there...

After a while we decided to take a break, and went to the restaurant on the fifth floor, lingering and sipping our coffee and colas. Little Harry and Nicky both had to visit the toilet, so we all went with them and patiently waited until everybody was finished and had washed their hands. Soon we went on, visiting floor after floor, and looking at all those nice things. At last we were too tired, and decided to drive on in the direction of home.

We took the escalators down to the exit, tired but feeling happy.

We left the beehive, and impatiently waited until our eyes were used to the bright sunlight.

Suddenly John asked, looking around:

"Where's Nicky?"

We all looked around, and I counted the heads. No Nicky! When had I seen him last? I hadn't the faintest idea...

"When did you see Nicky last?"

"He was with us on the escalator. There I saw him bend down to tie his shoelaces. I thought he would come after us..."

Not too worried, we returned to the beehive and re-entered the building. We went to the escalators, expecting to find him there. We saw lots of other children, but no Nicky. Where could he be?

"John, could you tell me exactly where you saw him the last time?"

John pointed upstairs, to the second floor:

"There! He was doing up his shoelaces. I thought he would follow us down the last escalator, so I didn't wait for him."

We had to walk around to use the ascending escalator, and went to the second floor. Again we saw lots of other children, but no Nicky... Now I started to be a bit worried. What if he was lost in this enormous building, and couldn't find the exit?

THE exit? This enormous building had FOUR different exits! What if he took the wrong exit, and couldn't find our van? Where could he be now? I cursed myself for not buying mobile phones. I thought we wouldn't need them during our trip to the mountains...

We hurried back to our van, hoping Nicky had found an exit by now and waited for us; but in vain. Our so cheerful blond-haired boy with his green eyes was nowhere in sight. Where could he be now?

Little Harry started to sob, and I took him into my arms:

"Do you remember, when you were lost in the zoo? You showed up after a while! And Nicky will show up too, I'm sure he will."

Little Harry nodded, and blew his nose in my handkerchief.

We went back to the escalator, where John had seen him for the last time. Again we looked around, this time walking further away, but again we didn't see Nicky. We decided to wait outside the exit, from where we could see both the building and our van. Ultimately Nicky was a fairly intelligent boy, who should be able to find our van on his own...

Suddenly Davey pointed at the escalator and shouted:

"THERE HE IS!"

We stormed to the small blond-haired boy that descended the escalator. The boy turned around, and looked at us with sudden fear in his brown eyes, ready to flee. We mumbled "Sorry" and slowly went to the exit, now deeply disappointed. Damn, he was the wrong boy! We went through the exit, and waited for a moment until our eyes were used again to the sudden sunlight.

Suddenly little Harry pointed at our van and shouted:

"THERE HE IS!"

We stormed to the van, where a small blond-haired boy with green eyes sheepishly grinned at us:

"I thought you would never show up!"

He threw himself at me, and buried his face in my chest:

"Sorry, Pop, but I had to fasten my shoelaces, and when I looked up you were gone. I looked around for a while, until I decided to wait next to our van, thinking you eventually would show up here."

We all cheered and high-fived each other. The boys fastened their seatbelts; and we drove off, in the direction of home.

The boys wanted to use our bungalow tent for the last time. John and Davey consulted the map, and found a nice-looking camping site.

Davey entered the site coordinates into the GPS receiver:

"About one hundred and twelve kilometers to go, Dad. In one hour and twenty three minutes we will be there."

They brewed me a cup of coffee to fend off my tiredness, and started to make plans for the evening:

"I hope they will have a swimming pool, or a lake or something."

"Can't we look for a nudist camping site? I'm tired of wearing clothes."

"Me too. They're sticking into my butt crack, and they feel clammy."

"When I'm a grown-up I will buy a big house at a naturist beach, or I will buy a big private estate surrounded by a huge fence; and all the neighbor children can use my yard and my swimming pool, to swim and play naked."

"Then the neighborhood will accuse you of pedophilia, and the police will put you in jail for the rest of your life."

"Stupid grown-ups. Fortunately Dad is just like us!"

"Yeah..."

I grinned, and parked our van in a big and crowded parking lot. We went to the camp office and booked a site for one night. The boys and I carried our bungalow tent to our space, where they set up the tent in no time. We went back to the van, and carried the suitcases and all the other stuff to our tent. A moment later all the boys were gone, looking for a swimming pool.

Soon they rushed back, panting:

"We've found a nice big pool, Dad. Are you coming with us?"

We entered our tent, where we undressed and put on our swimming trunks.

The boys still protested, showing sour faces:

"Yuck! Why did they ever invent those yucky things..."

We went to the swimming pool and cannonballed into the water, eliciting a few protests. Soon the boys and I were playing amongst the other children and a few grown-ups, having very much fun; until I was too tired and sat down while the boys resumed their play.

Later on we had dinner in a nice restaurant outside the campground. We wandered through the surroundings, and admired the beautiful nature. We even found a couple of wild rabbit holes. Little Harry wanted to place traps, but we convinced him that wasn't a very good idea in this country. He had to wait until we visited the Rumanian mountains again...

Tired but feeling happy we returned to our bungalow tent and settled down for the night. The boys zipped the sleeping bags together and put the air mattresses next to each other. We undressed, laid down, and entangled into each other, softly speaking until we were too sleepy. Soon Nicky started to snore, followed by little Harry. A moment later we all were sound asleep.

The next morning we had breakfast in the same nice restaurant. The boys neatly folded the bungalow tent, and we carried everything to our van. I paid the receptionist with my credit card, and we drove off. We were now on the last stage of our way home and, according to Davey and our GPS receiver, we could expect another six hours of driving before we finally were home.

The boys were a bit tense and started to tease each other, until I told them to sit quietly and fasten their seat belts. Fortunately that helped, they started to sing along with the music of the car stereo and the tension faded away.

Of course Nicky and little Harry both had to visit the toilet after a while. We stopped at a gas station, where Davey filled our tank while John accompanied little Harry and Nicky around a corner. Soon they were back, but now Davey had to visit the toilet! Okay, we weren't in a hurry.

Davey disappeared around the corner, and we waited patiently until he would show up again...

Suddenly a whirlwind stormed around the corner, nearly tripping over his own feet, hurrying to our van. He nearly crashed the door and threw himself inside, shouting and looking very angry:

"That son of a bastard! The stupid idiot asked me to suck his wiener, and when I refused he tried to grab my balls! But I kicked him in his stomach, and ran away as fast as I could."

He started to sob, and John put his arms around him:

"Come on, he will be gone by now, and you are safe. Nothing has happened to you. Next time we will go together and take a baseball bat with us, okay?"

Davey nodded, and dried his eyes with a sleeve of his shirt:

"He reminded me of what my father always tried to do. I wasn't really afraid of him, just awfully angry. I hope I've kicked him a broken stomach!"

We all started to laugh, and that broke the tension. John wanted to look for the man and kick his nuts into his throat, but I persuaded him not to. Perhaps during the next time, but today we had to go home!

The boys were bored and now looked at the GPS every two minutes. Little Harry and Nicky put two seats together into the sleeping position, lying down next to each other, softly talking. John and Davey started to make gigantic plans for their newest invention, which might have the potential to blow all the fuses in the neighborhood. I laughed, and kept my eyes on the road.

After a few more hours of driving we started to recognize the surroundings. The boys became restless, and tried to persuade me to drive faster.

"I want to strip down, Dad. Those clothes are driving me crazy!"

"I don't think school will be pleased with you being naked in the classrooms."

"Shouldn't there be a school for naturists or nudists? I'll search for it on the Internet when we are home."

"Couldn't we build a huge fence around our backyard, Pop? Then we can be naked for the whole day, without nosy neighbors reporting us to the police."

"In a few days you will be used to wearing clothes again. Within a few months it will be wintertime, and then it's too cold to be in the nude."

"Okay, I will wear my clothes from now on, but only under protest, because I'm forced to."

Suddenly little Harry jumped up and pointed to a church tower in the distance:

"There, Dad, there's our town! We're nearly home."

The next moment they all sat glued to the windows:

"There, Dad, in that clearing they burnt Harry's caravan down!"

We entered our block, rounded the corner, I parked our van in the driveway, and we were home.

For a moment we were quiet, but then all the boys started to cheer. We left the van, and John took the keys out of my hand. He went to the front door and opened it, politely letting me pass first. We entered our house, and closed the door.

Little Harry looked around, and frowned:

"It feels strange here, Dad, like everything is way too small. Everything is familiar, but at the same time it's like I'm seeing it for the first time..."

"Yes, Pop, I've that same feeling. It's like I'm in a strange house, and everything feels a bit too small."

We went to the kitchen, where I brewed my first cup of homemade coffee in three weeks, and John fetched a couple of drinks from the refrigerator:

"We have to fill the refrigerator, Dad. It's nearly empty."

After a while we went outside and unloaded our van. The boys unfolded the bungalow tent and neatly wrapped it together. Surprisingly this time they even could force it into the cover! With proud faces they carried it to the garage, to be stowed away until our next adventure.

Little Harry took a small plastic sheet from the glove compartment and carefully unfolded it:

"That's the herb I missed so much. I took it with us from the mountains. Hopefully it will grow in the backyard..."

He went to his herbs garden and carefully planted three small cuttings. He put them under a plastic sheet, and lovingly sprinkled them with some water.

We carried the suitcases upstairs, and emptied them on the floor. The boys removed their own belongings from the pile, to take them home. Our used clothes went into the hamper, to be washed. Most clothes were unused, as we were nude most of the time, and they went into the bedroom closet. Finally everything was sorted out, and we went downstairs to our couch in our living room.

We talked for another while, reflecting on our wonderful vacation time, until the boys wanted to go home and see their parents. We decided to go together and took Davey home first. Mary was very happy to see her son back, and delighted to see he was in such a good shape, browned by the sun and in perfect health. She thanked us, and invited us to have dinner with her. We refused politely, but promised to accept her invitation the next time.

Next we took Nicky home. BJ nearly crushed us, while Jason and Carl overwhelmed Nicky with questions. Nicky laughed, told them he was too tired now, and promised to tell them his story that evening...

John was a bit silent on the way home, until he told us why:

"I want to be home, but at the same time I don't want to leave you..."

"I understand. But you will always be welcome in our house, and you will always have your own room there."

"I know, and I'm very happy to have you as my Dad..."

Trudy was ecstatic to see her boy back in such a good shape, and they embraced each other for a long time. She got us something to drink, and John started to tell her about all our adventures. Soon Trudy interrupted him, and invited us to have dinner with her, but little Harry and I looked at each other and we had a short conversation without words. We wanted to be together tonight, just the two of us.

We refused politely, but promised Trudy to accept her invitation the next time.

We went home, with little Harry pushing into me and my arm draped around his shoulders. We didn't need to use words. We were happy with each other. Little Harry took the keys out of my pocket and opened the front door. We went straight to the living room, where we sat down on our couch.

After a moment he crawled onto my lap:

"I feel strange now, Dad. I'm very happy I'm home again, but at the same time I miss my people and my friends. I even miss Michail's sons, who were very fond of you. I had a wonderful time, and again thank you for taking me there! I look forward to the next time... but I think I'm a bit homesick now..."

He started to sob and buried his face in my chest. Suddenly I got tears in my eyes myself. I really missed my people, all the love, my two small friends, the waterfall, our black-and-gold caravan... I took my handkerchief from my pocket, and we both blew our noses in it.

After a while we looked at each other and grinned:

"You are such a crybaby..."

"You too..."

Again we cuddled for a long time. I felt RICH, having such a wonderful young man as my son and as my soul mate.

We went to the supermarket, both giggling and pushing each other like little children. Little Harry pushed the cart, while I collected all the things we needed in the coming weeks. He fetched a cardboard box from the stockroom, while I paid with my credit card. Together we loaded everything into the back of our van, and little Harry took the cart back. Still giggling we went home.

I parked the van in our driveway; and we took everything to the kitchen, where we stowed it away into the refrigerator and the various cupboards. Little Harry went outside with a cup of water, to sprinkle his precious new herb cuttings, and returned with a couple of herbs in his hands.

He started to wash them carefully:

"Are we cooking together, Dad? I will tell you what you have to do."

The next twenty minutes we were busy cleaning the vegetables, slicing the herbs, and cooking the potatoes. Slowly a delicious aroma filled the kitchen, and my stomach started to rumble.

Little Harry stirred the sauce, standing on a chair, and gave orders without looking up:

"Now you can put the potatoes onto the plates, Dad. Be careful with the vegetables, don't squash them. I'm nearly ready with the sauce."

Again the food tasted more than delicious. Again little Harry had proven to be a very talented cook, who could create a tasty meal out of ordinary things.

I complimented him, and he beamed:

"Within two weeks I can use my new herbs, and then finally our food will have the taste of the mountains!"

After the meal we cleared the table and washed the dishes. I brewed a cup of coffee, while little Harry squeezed a couple of oranges. We took our drinks with us to the living room where we sat down on our couch:

"Tomorrow is my first day in school, Dad. Will you help me get ready? I have to put everything into my schoolbag."

"Are you happy, now that you are going to school for the first time?"

"Sure! I want to be a lawyer to help my people when I'm a grown-up, so I will have to study a lot."

He spread everything out onto the table, and looked at the school list, checking every single item:

"I have to write my name on my things, Dad. Do you have a marker?"

I offered him a blue marker, and he wrote carefully onto every item, in firm letters: 'Harry Romani'.

"Now I'm ready to go to school, Dad. I will study as much as I can, to be able to help my people when the time is right."

We set the alarm clock, to be sure we would wake up in time, and showered together.

I put him to bed in our waterbed; where he clamped his arms around my neck:

"Thanks, Dad, for being my Dad. I really, really, really love you. You are the best Dad in the whole world."

He closed his eyes and fell asleep, probably dreaming of his first day in school.

I went downstairs, to work on my story 'Little Harry', a story that at some time might change our world.

One time I felt Jack around, smiling, and sending me his love:

"Don't think you will be done with book one. Other books will follow..."

I smiled, but decided to finish my book 'Little Harry' first, before I started to write the next book.

Suddenly I had a brilliant idea:

"Why not write my second book as seen through little Harry's own eyes; covering his birth through his youth? The name of that next book could be 'Little Harry's youth'. Maybe there even could be a third book, called 'Little Harry's son'..."

I went upstairs, undressed, and climbed into our waterbed. Immediately my little soul mate shifted towards me and nestled into my arms.

I LOVE my boy! My precious son, my little Gypsy prince, who someday will fulfill grand deeds in our world...

But first he had to attend school tomorrow.

Soon I fell asleep, dreaming of a better world full of love; and full of readers who loved my books...

35. Little Harry's first and last day in school.

The alarm clock woke us up, and we both stretched and yawned at the same time. Little Harry crawled onto my stomach with a big grin:

"Morning, Dad. Today is a beautiful day, and it also is the first day of the rest of our lives."

I yawned again, ruffled his hair, and started to laugh:

"You stole that from the first chapter of my book!"

He grinned, tickled my ribs, and jumped out of bed:

"Come on, don't be lazy. You promised to take me to school, and I don't want to be late!"

"There's no need to hurry; we have plenty of time."

But he was already in the shower, adjusting the temperature. I followed him at a slower pace, being sixty-five-years old and still a bit stiff.

I entered the shower, and he immediately leaned into me so that I could wash him. He was in an excellent mood and started to hum. We washed each other, dried each other, and went to little Harry's room to look for suitable clothes for him to wear in school.

"I want to look nice today, Dad! I will show them we gypsies are proud of ourselves."

"Perhaps you could better show them you are proud of yourself as a human being?"

"But they are always chasing us gypsies away, and I AM a Gypsy boy!"

I decided to let it go, hoping for the best. We went downstairs to the kitchen, both frolicking like little children.

I made us buttered toast while little Harry scrambled a couple of eggs, mixing them with some of his famous herbs. Soon we both enjoyed the tasty meal. We washed the dishes and went into the living room to prepare for leaving.

Little Harry looked at me with a hint of fear in his eyes:

"Dad, I feel a little bit nervous now. This is the first time in my life I'm attending school, and I hope I won't make too many mistakes."

"Well, you should be in the same class as Nicky, so perhaps he will show you how to behave during the first few days?"

"Oh yeah, you're right. I didn't think about that. But I'm still a bit nervous. How will the other children react when they discover I'm a Gypsy?"

"Just be proud of yourself! There's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Yeah, but I hope the other children will know that too..."

He opened his school bag and rechecked everything. Satisfied, he led the way to our golden van, followed by me. He put his pillow onto the front seat to sit a bit higher, and buckled up. I started the engine and we drove off, on our way to little Harry's new school.

I parked the van in front of the school gateway, and little Harry hugged me with a deep sigh:

"Thank you, Dad. See you back in the afternoon. I hope Nicky will show up soon..."

"I will be here when school is out, to collect you. Enjoy your first day of the rest of your life!"

He grinned and kissed me good-bye. He jumped out of the van and entered the gateway, looking back and waving at me. At that moment Nicky showed up, nearly bumping into him, and they immediately fell into each other's arms with beaming faces and patting each other's backs.

Together they returned to our van, and Nicky enthusiastically greeted me:

"I will take good care of him, Pop! You can count on me."

I got a wet kiss from Nicky, and a second kiss from little Harry. They re-entered the gateway, shoulder to shoulder and with their arms around each other; stared at by a couple of other children. I waved at them until they disappeared into the building; and drove off, back home.

On the way back I had a strange feeling, as if I left a part of myself behind, as if I was no longer complete. The van felt empty without my little soul mate in the front seat. The sound of the car stereo irritated me, so I switched it off. I tried to convince myself that everything was okay and I would see him back in the afternoon, but I couldn't get rid of a vague feeling of pending trouble. As if I had to protect him from something...

I parked the van in the driveway, and entered our house. Again I felt that strange feeling of emptiness, as if a part of myself didn't come with me. I already missed my little soul mate, and the day hadn't even started yet. I would need a lot of time to get used to the loneliness again...

I brewed myself a cup of coffee in the kitchen, and took it with me to the living room. There I sat down in front of the computer and started a silly game to divert my thoughts. But even that didn't help, every time I thought I heard the voice of my little soul mate talking to me. Was I becoming insane? Or was this the beginning of arteriosclerosis? I wasn't sure...

Suddenly I laughed at myself: "Boy, you're getting OLD!" Of course it's quite normal to feel emptiness after being used to a whole bunch of children playing around you for the whole day. But I couldn't get rid of a vague feeling of uneasiness...

I looked at the clock: half past nine. Still six hours to go... I forced myself to do something useful and started to clean the kitchen. I vacuumed the rooms and tidied the cupboards, closets, and cabinets. I washed the curtains, and hung them back. I made a list of the things I wanted to buy, although I didn't really need them.

Again I looked at the clock: only half past twelve. Still three hours to go...

I forced myself to eat something. Then I took the list with me to the supermarket. I took a cart, and again felt that emptiness. Pictures crossed my mind of little Harry pushing the cart and helping me collect the things we needed. I MISSED my boy... I missed him terribly.

Where were John and Davey? Of course they went to school too. But perhaps they were home earlier? Should I pay Trudy or Mary a visit, and ask them about it? Would they feel that same emptiness, now that their children were in school for the whole day?

I decided not to bother them with my feelings, and went home. I put the groceries away and brewed myself another cup of coffee.

Again I looked at the clock: only half past two. Still one hour to go...

At three o'clock I took the van and drove to little Harry's school. I parked the van in front of the gateway, and stared at the empty schoolyard. Another twenty minutes to go... and every minute felt like an eternity... only nineteen minutes to go now...

A few other cars parked along the road, and suddenly I saw BJ, waiting in his car. He waved at me, and I waved back at him. Obviously I wasn't the only one who was waiting for his boy...

Exactly at three-thirty a loud bell reverberated through the school building. Ten seconds later the front door opened and spat out an endless stream of yelling children, flooding the schoolyard. They hurried through the gateway and spread out into various directions.

I waited impatiently, trying to catch a glimpse of my boy. Where was little Harry? In the distance I saw Nicky, climbing into BJ's car; and they drove off without looking around. Weren't Nicky and little Harry together? Didn't they attend the same class? And why didn't Nicky greet me? He knew I would be waiting here too. Didn't BJ tell him he saw me and waved? How strange...

Slowly the schoolyard emptied. After a few minutes only a few children patiently waited for their parents. But where was my boy? I started to be worried now. By now he should have shown up... unless he was being punished for something, or had to remain behind for some reason.

I left the car and went to the school building, unsure what to do now. Should I enter the building, look around inside, or ask for him? But what if there was a plausible reason for his remaining behind? Wouldn't I look too over-worried as a single parent? Slowly I climbed the few steps to the open front door...

Suddenly a wrecked and piteously sobbing small boy showed up in the door opening, trembling all over and squinting in the sudden sunlight. He saw me, staggered down the steps, and fell into my arms, where he nearly fainted.

What had happened to him? I held him in my arms and tried to ask him a few questions, but he didn't respond at all. Should I go back into the school building and ask somebody what was the matter with my boy? But whom should I ask? I decided to take him home first and ask the questions afterwards.

I carried him to our van, opened the front door with some difficulty, and tenderly put my poor boy onto the front seat. He groaned and started to sob without looking up. What had happened to him? I offered him my handkerchief, but he hardly reacted. What was the trouble?

I drove home as fast as I dared with that so vulnerable small boy next to me. What was the matter with my precious soul mate? Was he ill? Or had they done something terrible to him? I couldn't detect anything unusual, only his hair seemed to be wet. Had he tried to wash his face?

Little Harry was hanging in his seat belt like a lost little birdie, barely reacting to the things around him. Now and then he trembled and sobbed. I tried to send him as much love as I could muster, but he didn't pick it up.

I parked the van in our driveway, unbuckled little Harry, and carefully carried him inside the house.

I laid him down onto the couch, where he silently curled up into a ball. What should I do now? Call our family doctor? Or should I wait for another while, until it became clear what had happened? He didn't feel feverish... I went to the kitchen and returned with a wet cloth to carefully wash his face.

Very slowly little Harry returned from his collapse. He squinted at me, and I saw a look of horror in his eyes. He tried to say something, but choked up and started to sob again. I got him a glass of water, and he gulped half of the water down, eagerly and in one big swallow.

That seemed to help. He sighed a few times, and I took him into my arms. He nestled against me, still trembling, and seemed to be more aware of his surroundings now. Again I sent him all the love I could muster, and this time it worked. Slowly he calmed down.

After a while he started to tell what had happened, still trembling all over and now and then sobbing:

"They were so mean, Dad! They saw Nicky and me entering the schoolyard with our arms around each other, and started to call us fags and homo's... Fortunately Nicky was put into another classroom; else they would have harassed him too. When I entered my classroom, they pushed me and I fell down on my knees. They told me they hated homo's, and in their eyes I was just a dirty Gypsy fag. I tried to defend myself, but every time I looked up they punched me in the face. After a while the teacher entered the room, and then they were quiet. But at recess everything started again. In the noon break I went to the toilets, and sat there until class started again, without eating. But when school dismissed they took me to a toilet, put my head into it, and tried to flush me down the sewer pipes, because that's where I belong..."

He started to sob again, and I couldn't calm him down for a long time.

Suddenly the doorbell rang. I went to the front door, to let a raging BJ and a very timid looking Nicky showing a black eye enter our house. We went to the living room, where Nicky immediately curled up next to little Harry and started to sob loudly. They threw their arms around each other and tried to console each other, now both of them crying their hearts out.

I offered BJ a cup of coffee to ease the tension, and after a while we sat down onto the easy chairs. Fortunately the boys were calmed down a bit and stared at us with blank faces, entangled into each other and now and then softly sobbing.

BJ sipped his coffee and started to tell his story:

That morning Nicky went to school in a cheerful mood, happy to meet his friend Harry and be with him in the same classroom. But the school management had divided the oversized class into two smaller ones; and that separated Nicky and little Harry. They didn't see each other for the whole day. That turned out to be good, because the children soon started to harass Nicky. They called him a fag and a homo, because they saw him and little Harry with their arms around each other and both kissing a grown-up man. They pestered him during the whole day, until at last Nicky attacked them. Then the whole bunch of children started to pummel him, until one of the teachers turned up and rescued him. Nicky now had several bruises on his body, a few painful ribs, and a black eye. And he absolutely refused to ever go back to school.

I told BJ what they had done to little Harry, and he nearly exploded:

"Those beasts! How DARE they! Hasn't that poor boy endured enough in his short life? I will go to that school and teach them a lesson they will never forget!"

He raged for a long time, with clenched fists, cursing all the homo haters and the teachers who didn't intervene. At last he calmed down a bit, and asked me what I had planned to do for now.

"I don't know... This certainly isn't what I had hoped for on little Harry's first school day. Why does everything have to be so difficult for our children nowadays? They were so totally free in Rumania, where everybody hugged everyone without any prejudices or afterthoughts. They walked there with their arms around each other for the whole day, just like Davey and John and all the other children. Why is that not allowed here in our country? WHY?"

BJ thoughtfully nodded and shamefully bowed his head:

"I used to think the same bullshit about boys hugging each other..."

The doorbell rang. I went to the front door to let John and Davey in, both enthusiastically chattering about their first school day since the vacations. They entered the living room, and immediately froze at the sight of two very sad looking boys on the couch.

"What happened to you two? Why are you looking so sad? Didn't you have fun in school today? Nicky, what's with your eye? Did you have a fight?"

Little Harry and Nicky both started to sob again, and I told John and Davey what had happened.

Davey looked very sad now, and John nodded thoughtfully:

"They could have expected such a thing. That's why Davey and I never touch each other in school, even when we are working on the same project. Even when you are sitting or walking too close to each other, immediately the others start to comment. You just have to reckon with their crazy beliefs about what's 'normal'. It's a pity our Rumanian mountains are so far away. After the three weeks we spent there, I feel like I'm incarcerated here..."

Davey nodded, and added with a sad voice:

"I'm frightened every day I'm in school. If they ever discover how my father abused me, I'd better end my life. Last year a boy hung himself because they thought they saw him kiss his friend. His friend had to move into another town, and we never saw him back..."

We talked for a long time. Slowly a picture showed up of life in school nowadays, where bodily contact only was allowed between boys and girls, and where every suspicion of being a homosexual immediately led to harassment or worse. Even the teachers weren't allowed to touch the pupils any more, from fear of being accused of paedophilia by the parents. Every normal friendship between males was looked upon suspiciously when you didn't have at least a girlfriend to prove you weren't a homo. Looking at another boy in the showers was a deadly sin, unless you were comparing your thing with the others and bragging about it. Accidentally touching another boy immediately led to a lot of aggression. Looking 'differently' inevitably led to being bothered, while looking 'girlishly' led to a continuous stream of disparaging accusations. Many 'different' looking boys broke down after a while, and vanished into mental health care or worse. Even not wearing the 'right' clothes or shoes could lead to severe excluding from the group.

Girls were treated totally differently. Girls were allowed to touch each other, to sit together with their heads touching, to walk hand in hand, to embrace each other, and to have deep and lasting friendships. Girls also seldom took part in the harassments of the boys. They had their own problems, mostly in deciding who was secretly in love with whom, and which boy was the best looking one.

BJ and I decided to keep Nicky and little Harry home for the time being, and have a serious talk with a few teachers the next morning.

We ordered pizzas, and after the meal John and Davey went home to do their homework. BJ went home after another cup of coffee, and left Nicky with us.

Little Harry and Nicky slowly recovered from their sadness and wriggled into the same chair in front of the computer to play a racing game. Soon they were completely absorbed and forgot their misery for a while.

I sat down in my chair, and tried to find a way to cope with the huge problems I was facing now. Sending little Harry back to school was out of the question. They would never leave him alone after what they did to him today. But I couldn't keep him home too, as the law dictates that every child has to attend school until he or she is at least sixteen years old, except for under extraordinary circumstances. Was this an 'extraordinary circumstance'? I doubted it...

Perhaps my lawyer could offer us a solution?

I asked the boys to make less noise for a while, and phoned my lawyer. I told him what had happened, and he immediately advised me to threaten the school and all the teachers with a lawsuit. That way they were forced to take action to prohibit any further harassment. I tried to explain how cruel children could be amongst each other, but he had no children of his own and started to look at it from a judicial point of view, which didn't help me much.

I asked him about withholding little Harry from school, but he was afraid that would cause me lots of trouble. The only thing he could advise me was: enroll little Harry into another school, and instruct him how to behave there to prevent further problems with the other children in his class.

I asked him about home teaching, but the law only allowed that under special conditions, and I should have all the required licenses first.

I thanked him for his advice and hung up. That didn't bring me much further!

Nicky looked at me with determination in his eyes:

"Pop, I'm NOT going to school any more! I've had enough of it for the rest of my life. If they try to force me, I will hitchhike to my people in the mountains in Rumania. There at least they love me as I am, and I know I will be welcomed there..."

Little Harry looked more thoughtfully:

"You have to attend school, to learn important things and be able to earn a living when you are a grown-up. And I still want to be a lawyer, to help my people when I am old enough. But I don't want to be flushed through the toilets every day..."

They restarted their computer game, and soon had some fun again in crashing their cars against each other.

That night we slept very restlessly, waking up every moment. Nicky's ribs were sore, so I offered him a pain killer tablet. That helped a bit, but he still got vivid nightmares and then woke up sweating and panting. Little Harry moaned in his sleep and thrashed all over the bed, waking us up a couple of times. Then he stared into space and told us something incoherently about sewer pipes and schools in the mountains. He calmed down when I took him into my arms, but an hour later he started to moan and thrash again. Now and then I HATED our society that did such horrible things to our innocent children.

At last the sun started to shine through the crack in the curtains; and we left the bed, still yawning and dizzy with sleep. We washed, dressed, ate some toast with cheese, and waited on the couch in the living room for BJ to show up.

BJ was exactly on time, and we assured the boys we would be back home as soon as possible. We took my van and drove to the school, where we arrived half an hour before the classes would start.

We entered the building, and were stopped by the janitor:

"Good morning, gentlemen! How can I help you?"

"We want to talk to the principal."

"He isn't here yet, and I'm not sure whether he will show up today, or not. Perhaps you could leave him a message?"

"It's about our sons, who yesterday both were harassed and called names during the whole day."

"Well, that happens all the time... Boys will always be boys, you know. Perhaps you better let them fight their own battle, without intervening?"

"Even when they are called fags and homo's, are pummelled, and nearly flushed down the toilets?"

"There's no difference. They will come through, and it certainly will strengthen their characters when they are older."

"Please tell your principal we are planning to file a lawsuit against the school and the two teachers who didn't intervene. Please also tell him one of the boys is severely discriminated against due to his Gypsy origin, so perhaps he would be willing to free some of his precious spare time to answer our questions?"

I asked the janitor about little Harry's school bag, and he fished it from behind a dresser, with a sour face. I thanked him, and wrote down my address and phone number onto a piece of paper. We returned to the van and drove home, both of us still in a very bad mood.

We entered the living room, where little Harry and Nicky both were entangled on the couch, softly talking. At the same moment the phone rang:

The school principal told me his name, and warned me I was transgressing the law by not sending my boy to school today. He would inform the authorities about my behaviour, unless I immediately sent the concerning child to his classroom where he ought to be NOW.

"Now you listen to me, mister Principal! That 'concerning child' has had a severe nervous breakdown, due to the fact that his classmates tried to flush him down the sewer pipes in the toilets yesterday, while his teacher didn't do anything to prevent the harassing. His friend has four severely bruised ribs and a black eye, due to the same harassing in another classroom. We will take both of them to the hospital today, to let a specialist there file a report about the injuries. My son was severely discriminated against because of his Gypsy origin for the whole day in the classroom, while the teacher was there and did nothing to prevent it. So I'm warning you: whether you will have a talk with us very soon, or you and your teachers will have to deal with a couple of lawsuits."

"Sorry, sir, but I didn't know anything about the circumstances. Could you be here at three-thirty, to talk about those things that are bothering you?"

"We will be there!"

We decided to be prepared for everything, so we took the boys with us to a hospital. There they took a couple of pictures of Nicky's bruises and black eye, filed a report about his injuries, and little Harry was looked over by a psychiatrist who filed a lengthy report about his new sewer pipe trauma's.

Back home I phoned our lawyer, but unfortunately he had to attend a session in court and couldn't accompany us to the school. He advised us to use a small tape recorder and record everything that was said. One could never know...

I thanked him for his valuable advice, and promised to keep him informed.

Next we went to my computer, and looked on the internet for special schools. Soon we found a couple of private schools that had a very strict policy about harassment and violence. I asked Nicky and little Harry what they thought about those schools.

"I don't know, Pop. I'm still very hesitant about going to school now. What if one of the boys there happens to know one of the boys from my old school?"

"I'm thinking about giving it a chance, Dad. Things can't get worse than they already are, and I WANT to be a lawyer..."

"Shall we phone them, and try to have a look there today? But we have to be back at three o'clock."

BJ and the boys agreed, so I phoned the private school. They could receive us immediately if we wished so. We jumped up and went on our way, promising the now hungry boys to stop on the way to get us something yummy to eat.

The private school looked very nice and cosy, with small classes and highly educated teachers. I had already promised BJ to pay for both Nicky and my own son, so the financial part was already settled. Both boys immediately felt at home in their new classroom, and they eagerly wanted to start school the next day, even Nicky! I felt very relieved now that was settled. BJ and I would alternately bring and collect both boys.

In a relieved mood we went home, where we waited until it was time to visit the principal of their old school.

Suddenly BJ and I looked at each other, having the same thought:

"Do we really want to talk with that principal? Or shall we let it go, and take the rest of the day off…"

I went to the phone and cancelled our appointment, with the promise to keep the lawsuit in mind in case I ever heard of another boy being harassed.

Little Harry and Nicky started to cheer and high-five each other, BJ, and me. They danced around the room, grateful to be rescued from their old school. They promised us to be very careful to behave 'normal' in their new school, and do nothing that could be offensive or questionable in the eyes of the others. They had to learn to never touch each other, not even when they thought nobody else could see them. You could never know…

"Howl with the wolves, and bark with the dogs. That's the best thing you can do to survive this crazy world we're living in."

They laughed, and went to the computer where they wriggled into the same chair, throwing their arms around each other:

"Now wait until John and Davey hear about our new school!"

John and Davey came by after their classes dismissed, and they were both very happy for little Harry and Nicky. They warned them too, to be very careful from now on and never do anything that could be interpreted as 'gay' or 'girly'. Hands off each other!

We ordered pizzas, because little Harry still was a bit nervous; but he promised us to cook the next day and then try to use a little bit of his newest herbs.

After the pizzas BJ went home, and took Nicky with him to do some chores and prepare for his first day at the new school. John and Davey went home to do their homework, and promised us to be back the next day to find out about little Harry's first 'normal' day at school.

Little Harry unpacked his school bag and prepared it for the new books he would receive the next day:

"I'm feeling good now, Dad. I'm still a bit nervous, but I'm no longer afraid to make any mistakes. I think I've survived the worst thing that could happen to me, and from now on things can only be better than they were. I also want to be a lawyer myself, and not only to help my people when I'm a grown-up. I want to be a lawyer because I LIKE to be a lawyer and help other people with their problems."

He crawled onto my lap; and we cuddled for a long time, softly talking about everything and nothing, until it was time to put him to bed.

I worked on my book 'My Gypsy Prince', that hopefully would open the eyes of many people all over the world; until I was too tired and went upstairs.

The moment I entered our bed, little Harry immediately shifted towards me and wormed into my arms:

"Dad, I love you! I'm so happy you are helping me to grow up, and you will always be there for me…"

He closed his eyes, and fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

X (Extra chapter)

I found myself in a huge Temple in ancient Egypt, five thousand years ago, training many hundreds of Priests to help and heal our Earth and its inhabitants.

Being the Supreme High Priest, I was in immediate contact with the Orion stars through our Ark of the Covenant, charged to the brim with Sirius Energy.

All the Priests received their Cosmic Initiation in our Great Pyramid, while lying in the closed Sarcophagus that was empowered by the Pleiadic Gods themselves.

All of them were selected carefully, to perform a crucial task on Earth when they were needed, after getting more than five thousand years of arduous preparation in several difficult lives.

Around the 'Millennium Bug', they would be born as 'Indigo Children', being fully prepared for their task on earth and inwardly knowing who they were and what they had to do.

They would help our Earth and its inhabitants overcome a crucial period of too fast time-acceleration, which would make its warmed surface shake and flood and erupt violently...

Unfortunately, by that time, our Ark of the Covenant would be fully discharged and no longer of any use, and our Pyramids would be emptied and dismantled.

We would have to rely solely on our own Cosmic Insights and Spiritual Powers...

My dream changed all of a sudden; and now I found myself sometime in the dark Middle Ages...

Every Sunday, I went to our Holy Church, where our Preacher climbed the pulpit and told the congregation about Hell and Damnation.

All of us believed strongly in a Supreme Being; calling himself 'The Only God', and wanting us to be utmost obedient and submissive.

A few thousand years ago, He had written a Holy Book that told us how to behave; and, since then, we had to live according to His Holy Word.

All the people who didn't believe in His Word were damned; and, after they died, they would burn in Hell for all eternity, without any mercy.

People who pleased Him, went to His Heaven; where they would eat from golden plates, play on little harps, and sing psalms in front of His Countenance for all eternity...

All of us tried to convince everybody else of our Belief, thus hoping to earn an even more prominent place in Our God's Own Heaven.

Our 'Only God' was very displeased by anybody who did not Believe in Him. He had especially chosen us, His Beloved Elected People, to convince them of their devilish sins!

We had to use all available means to convince others; even when that meant we had to sacrifice their mortal bodies, thus saving their Souls from burning in all eternity...

Our Only God hated people who thought they were more important than He was, by crossing His Holy Intentions and trying to heal themselves or others, other than by Praying.

These unholy men, called 'Heathens', were tortured and hung to death on gallows; while the women were called 'Witches' and burnt to death on stakes.

Their bodies were gone, but their Souls were saved from burning in Hell in all eternity; and thus we had again pleased Our Only God some more...

I didn't like all the Hangings and Witch-burns, but didn't dare to revolt...

What would happen if they thought I could be a Heathen as well? They would hang me immediately, to please their Only God and save my Soul from burning in Hell...

Now and then, cautiously, I tried to convince a few people of their fallacies; but they were too indoctrinated by what they thought had to be Our Only Gods Holy Intention.

They WANTED to earn that special place, once, after their deaths, jubilantly sitting on the right side of Our God's Holy Throne and playing their little harps...

One day, I tried to light a candle to read in His Holy Book, and something went awfully wrong.

My hair caught fire; and, in a sudden panic, I knocked the burning candle over towards my clothes!

Within a few seconds, everything was set ablaze, and I knew exactly how my Witches had been feeling, while burning to death on stakes...

I never thought being burnt could be such a terrible death...

I died; and, of course, I expected to go straight to Our God's Heaven, to play on my little harp and eat from His golden plates...

To my utmost surprise, an Angel full of Love and Compassion brought me to a 'Purgatory', where I had to look back at my life and at what I had done to bring more Love into our world...

My initial intentions had been good, because I really wanted to develop more Love by trying to HELP other people.

However, instead of really helping others, I had been too concerned about my own welfare...

Now, I had to go back to the Earth; to be born anew and make up for what I had done to others.

The REAL Holy Word had already been spoken to us, in very clear words:

"I say to you, unless one is born anew, he cannot see the Kingdom of God."

Why had I been so blind to seeing...

In addition to this, all the other members of our so-called Holy Church had also to experience how being burnt feels, according to the Law of Karma!

This was not a punishment, but a means to develop more compassion for your victims...

Then, a booming voice in my ears told me, reverberating through my head:

"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth."

I woke up in sudden shock; and bolted upright in my bed, panting and sweating...

I needed a very long time, to pull myself together and stop panting.

What a very strange dream had this been! It had almost been a shocking nightmare...

Still trembling all over, I went out of bed and descended the stairs to drink some water in the kitchen.

Fortunately, that helped; and I returned upstairs and shifted back under the blankets.

Then, I started to think...

There had been some undeniable logic in my strange dream!

Had I really been a High Priest in ancient Egypt, training many Priests for their upcoming tasks on Earth?

Then, little Harry, John, Davey, or Jack, might have been amongst them!

Who of them could be born as an 'Indigo Child', inwardly knowing who he was and what he had to do?

Wasn't that exactly what my little soul mate always told me, every time again?

Would our little Prince really be an 'Indigo'?

Didn't everybody on earth have the same strange idea, about out 'feeling of time' going faster and faster?

All the days, months, and even years, seemed to be shorter than ever before!

And, didn't everybody talk about a warming earth surface, earthquakes, inundations, tornados, and heavy volcano eruptions?

Could there be some reality in my strange dream?

Or, was my mind playing dirty tricks, mixing together several things I once heard or read...

Had I really been a zealous witch hunter; chasing heathens to be burnt on stakes?

Then, I was relatively sure that at least Joshie, little Harry, and maybe his parents, had been members of our church as well!

Was that why all of them experienced how being burnt felt, thus satisfying the Law of Karma?

Fortunately, it had already been my turn to be burnt!

I felt very relieved...

But, of course, everything had been only a very strange dream...

Everybody knows that our dreams are misleading!

Phenomality, Dutch psychotherapist and writer of many 'books with a message'

www.gypsyseries.com