a Man loves a Boy

-2- a little upcoming Shaman

My second famous 'Gypsy Series' book!

- written by a Dutch psychotherapist -

http://www.gypsyseries.com

Chapter 1. Memories; and Trudy reveals her life story.

The bright morning sun peeked through a crack in my curtains and teasingly tickled my eyelids, until I couldn't stand it any longer and slowly woke up. Still feeling sleepy, I first produced a heartfelt yawn, while making a mental note to go downtown and buy better curtains before the sun always woke me up this early. Why didn't I have a competent woman in my recently bought house, to take care of all those more or less important things that a man never thought about? Being divorced and living on my own offered me a lot more freedom, but it also forced me to look after my small household all by myself! Fortunately, since a few days, I wasn't living alone any more, because I now had my eight-year-old 'little soul mate' living with me, who had his own bedroom and his own belongings in what was now our house. Although he had his own bed to sleep in, every night, he silently crawled into my double waterbed to sleep next to me as if glued to my left side; or he spread out all over my chest and stomach, clamping onto me as some affectionate little octopus.

Opening my eyes, I lifted my head and stared with a heart full of love at my peacefully sleeping little Gypsy Prince who had again spread out all over me. A faint smile full of trust and happiness adorned his so terribly burnt face, but he didn't wake up and just slept on. Two years ago, his Royal Family had to flee from a nasty witch-hunt, falsely accused of robbing and murdering a 'gadjo'. After traveling through several foreign countries, they stopped in this small village and planned to go home the next morning. However, that same night, their caravan was set ablaze, and both the Gypsy King and his Queen perished in the fire. Only their six-year-old son, the little Gypsy Crown Prince and only Heir to the Throne 'Harold Romani', survived, although he was burnt very badly all over. Fortunately, Jack who was the former owner of my newly bought house, couldn't sleep, went outside, saw the blazing fire, and rescued the burning boy by rolling him around in some cold and wet grass, to extinguish the flames and cool him off. Day after day, Jack visited his burnt little friend in the hospital and paid his many operations for him, until they released little Harry and he started living with Jack. Two months ago, Jack suddenly died, and little Harry was passed on to John's parents, where he had to share John's bedroom while his possessions were stowed away in their garage.

A few days ago, I bought Jack's former house, and immediately met five young neighborhood children who told me about their burnt little Gypsy friend who used to have his own room in what was now my house. Soon, I met little Harry, took him into my house, and gave him his 'own' room back, upstairs, second door to the left. Sometime during the night, he again left his own bed and silently crawled next to me, because he hated sleeping alone and used to sleep next to his former Big Friend, Jack. Feeling full of Love for my 'little soul mate' who had been my own little son and also was my best friend from many other incarnations, I shifted away from the sunlight, closed my eyes, and dozed off again...

Surprisingly, I woke up in our wooden log cabin, having my sleeping little son in my arms under our cozy fur blankets. Outside, the wind swept through the trees, making them rustle. In a far distance, a couple of hungry deer grunted, looking for something to eat. I hoped one of the deer would step into the traps my son and I had set up, so that we would have enough fresh meat. From a very young age, my son always wanted to help me with everything, so that I taught him all the necessary things about setting traps, catching wild deer, skin them, spice their chunks of meat with carefully selected herbs, and roast the chunks to preserve them for later use. After my wife started to bleed and died in childbirth, I had felt devastated! Here I was, feeling angry and desperate; burying the only person in the world I really loved. The only thing my wife left me was a little baby, shivering from the sudden cold. How would such a tiny boy ever be able to survive, without a nurturing Mother to nourish him? I knew he needed lots of fresh milk and that he wouldn't be able to digest any solid food for many months. Only, where could I find any fresh milk, and how would I be able to warm his shivering little body sufficiently?

First, I wrapped my little baby son in a deer pelt and put the package in front of our brightly glowing fire. Then, I hasted outside, praying to find a breeding animal with a young one in my traps. As if the Gods were with us, I really found a breeding deer in one of my traps! Happily, I took the mother to my barn, closed the door, and tried to calm it down. After several failed tries, I learned how to milk it without being kicked and spilling all its milk onto the floor. From now on, I would be able to still my little son's hunger! Feeling very proud of what I had achieved so far, I took my baby into my arms and started to feed him the milk with a spoon. Suddenly, the little imp hiccupped, burped, and threw up all of the milk onto my lap. What had I done wrong? I had no idea, cleaned us up, got some fresh milk, and started again...

A couple minutes later, our nearest neighbor showed up, who had his own log cabin half a mile away from us. Tentatively, he knocked on my door, bringing some wild flowers and planning to congratulate my wife and me with the birth of our first child. He had been hunting nearby, had heard baby noises, and just followed his heart! Immediately, he offered to go to the nearest village, to buy me a few baby bottles, a book about nurturing babies, and lots of diapers. From that day on, we became best friends; and my friend often babysat my little son while I had to be away. Slowly, I learned how to properly feed and clean my boy, with the help of my friend and his baby-nurturing book. During the day, my son slept in a cardboard box in front of our fireplace, now and then waking up to be fed and cleaned, or to play with his little fingers and toes. At night, he always slept next to me in our cozy pelts bed, to fend off the nightly cold and keep both of us warm. From the first day on, my little son always fell asleep with a deep sigh of content, while lying curled up in my enveloping arms. He grew up in a cheerful mood, was always good-tempered, and he soon turned out to be extremely bright.

While growing up prosperously and healthy, my little son soon started to follow me wherever I went, because he wanted to help me with everything. From a very young age, I taught him how to scour our woods safely, while looking out for dangerous ravines and overgrown cracks. During the first few years, I always held him on a long leash for safety, until he was able to climb even the steepest ravines, swim through wildly foaming rivers, and jump across the nastiest cracks without ever stumbling. Soon, he became a very good outdoorsman and an excellent little trapper; and, from then on, he followed me everywhere without any help, to inspect our traps and set up new ones. During the day, my son and I were clad in our heavy fur coats to keep us warm; while, at night, we always slept in each other's arms under a couple of deer pelts, to keep each other warm. Of course, we never had any problems being naked together, because nobody ever taught us the silly habits of feeling ashamed of any of our bodily functions, or of hiding any so-called 'private parts' from each other...

Slowly, I woke up from my dream, because my sleeping boy started to stir in my arms. For a few seconds, I didn't know where we were, because I didn't recognize our safe and cozy log cabin. Then, I remembered living in my newly bought house in this small village, having my son in my arms who had spread out all over my chest and stomach as some affectionate little octopus. Still feeling full of love, I started to caress his burnt little back with all its nasty scars, colored burns, and still growing strings of wild flesh. Although I thought I heard him purr as some happy little kitten, he didn't wake up and just slept on. Only, my full bladder urged me to go to our bathroom and relieve myself. Therefore, I first carefully slid my boy off my stomach, which earned me a protesting grunt while he tried to clamp onto me even more. Then, he woke up a little bit, voluntarily left my stomach, happily stretched out at full length, and slept on again. Quickly, I left our double waterbed, trotted downstairs and into our bathroom, and blessed our ceramic god with a deep sigh of relief.

When I returned, my little soul mate seemed to have missed me, because he was now lying across our bed while using up all the available space. Smilingly, I remembered he had done the same thing a few times before, obviously during his sleep and without waking up. Gently, I lifted our blankets aside, to be able to push him towards his 'own' side so that I could enter 'my' side of our bed. For a few seconds, I stared at his naked little body with all its nasty scars and growing wild flesh... Suddenly, I became very aware of the fact that my little soul mate slept completely naked, because his burns always started to itch in a too warm bed, while I was clad in only briefs and nothing else! In our present lives, we were no longer living in our safe log cabin in our secluded forest, but in an extremely mistrustful big brother society! What would my curious neighbors think of me if they knew how we were sleeping? Undoubtedly, they would see my naked little boy sleeping next to me as being very inappropriate! I was sure that nobody would accept my explanation of once being father and son during our 'past lives'. Everybody would undoubtedly see me as a 'filthy child molester' and my softly snoring boy as the innocent victim of my 'sexual aberrations'...

Suddenly feeling very uneasy, I climbed back into my double bed, while trying to keep a safe distance from my naked boy. Only, the same moment when he felt me, he shifted towards me and worked himself back into my arms! Heaving a deep sigh of content, he fell asleep again, with a satisfied smile on his happily beaming face. Again feeling full of love, I refolded my arms around his little frame and held him close to my left side, while I almost started to cry from my intense fatherly feelings. How in the world could I ever deny my boy the tender loving care and safety he so obviously craved? Only, my unexpected reaction had made me painfully aware of the vulnerable position I was in! By allowing my boy to sleep next to me, I had to be very careful about what to do or not to do, always keeping in mind our over-prudish and mistrusting big brother society. One wrongly understood or thoughtless word from my little soul mate or from his 'bigger brother' John, and I would lose both young friends and never see them again. Society would without any doubt try to convict me and put me in jail, for 'displaying indecent behavior' or 'assaulting an innocent minor'. Nobody would even bother about our 'past lives' and the intense bond we once had as a lone trapper and his little son, peacefully sleeping in each other's arms in the same bed in our cozy log cabin, to keep each other warm under our fur pelts during the freezing nights...

A moment later, my sleeping boy woke up, and immediately produced a couple of heartfelt yawns. Still lying glued to my left side, he started to stretch his small limbs, one by one, while sighing in satisfaction. Then, he unglued his agile little body from my left side, turned around, adeptly crawled onto my stomach, and offered me a big morning kiss straight onto my mouth.

Chuckling at seeing my still very sleepy face, he told me:

"Dad, wakey wakey! Yesterday I've made us breakfast, so today it's your turn."

Still trying to wake up completely, I yawned and grumbled:

"Really? Couldn't you be a good son and bring me breakfast in bed?"

My little imp only chuckled at my grumbling protest, while he kicked our blankets away. Then, he started to tickle my ribs mercilessly, expertly finding all my sensitive spots! At first, I let my surprisingly strong boy have his innocent fun; until his ferocious tickling became too much for my old body and I couldn't stand it any longer. With some difficulty, I grabbed his squirming hips, lifted him into the air, and plopped him down next to me on our wobbling double waterbed. As fast as I could, I turned around, crawled onto my knees, and triumphantly straddled my boy's tiny frame by clamping his small thighs between my legs.

Teasingly, I tickled his little chest and belly, while I asked him:

"Now, who is the REAL boss here?"

Still squirming while trying to escape from my tickle torture, my chuckling imp responded:

"I know the answer, but I'm not going to tell you! Now, please, stop tickling, because I have to pee badly and I nearly wet our waterbed..."

"Really? Then, I suppose you are still a little baby, and I have to buy you a packet of diapers."

"Really? Then, you are already a senile old man, and you ought to wear those diapers yourself."

"WHAT? You are calling me 'senile' at my young age? That earns you another tickle torture!"

Before I could tickle my still squirming boy again, my way too loud doorbell rang; its harsh sound reverberating through the entire house and making my boy and me shudder with horror. Again, I decided I HAD to do something about that irritating bell, before I lost my temper and pulled it from the wall in our hallway! Besides, who would try to wake us up, this early in the morning? Had John again arrived at our front door early, as he had done a few times before, to lure his 'little Gypsy brother' and me into taking our showers together? Only, why hadn't my clairvoyant little 'Shaman' sensed John's presence at least ten seconds in advance? Up to now, his strange but very powerful 'abilities' had always worked flawlessly...

Quickly, my little Shaman wrestled free from between my knees, while I pushed myself up to let him escape. Without bothering about putting on any clothes, he just slid down from our wobbly waterbed and raced downstairs to open our front door. Only, immediately after I heard him open the front door, he hurried back upstairs and stormed into our bedroom, now looking upset!

Wheezing and panting from sudden hurry, he managed to bring out:

"It's Mom! Err... it's John's mother; but she cries and she has a black eye!"

Quickly, I hasted out of bed and started to put on my clothes, wondering what could have happened to Trudy, this early in the morning. Could her husband, Eric, have had another fight with his wife and hit her? I hoped not, because I almost started to HATE that hateful man, who always belittled his oldest son, John, and didn't seem to have a heart. Couldn't that nasty man smoke himself to death so that he left his wife and children alone, preferably immediately? Fortunately, his son John had a totally different character! In the meantime, my little soul mate trotted to his own room and quickly put on his own clothes. Together, we raced downstairs without bothering about washing or combing our hair, with my still worried looking boy upfront... Trudy waited for us in the hallway, now and then wiping her eyes with her handkerchief. Looking ashamed, she tried to hide a black eye and a couple of nasty bruises.

When she saw me, she started to cry again and sniffled in between her sobs:

"Sorry for waking you this early; but, please, could I have a quick word with you?"

"Of course you could! Harry, could you please get John's mother a glass of water?"

Looking less worried but still a bit concerned, my boy hurried towards our kitchen to get a glass of water, while Trudy followed me into our living room. Immediately, she collapsed onto an easy chair and started to cry her heart out, looking both shameful and angry. What the heck could have happened to her, this early in the morning, and where was her oldest son and my 'young friend', John?

Sobbing louder and louder, Trudy almost shouted into the room:

"Eric ATTACKED me, the son of a bitch! And he says he wants an immediate divorce. He also wants to take Mark and Marrie to a juvenile home for better education, and I don't know anymore what to do... This is too much for me. Why cannot Eric leave me alone? What have I done to deserve such a treatment?"

In the meantime, my little soul mate returned with a glass of water, but he only stared at John's mother as if in doubt what he should do. Was my little Shaman trying to read her thoughts? Then, he put his glass down and consolingly threw his small arms around her neck.

Bending over towards Trudy's ear, I heard him whisper:

"Let it go, Mom, and don't bottle it up! In a few minutes, you will feel a lot better."

For a few seconds, Trudy only stared at her former little tenant, looking surprised. Then, a feeble smile crossed her face. While trying to suppress her sobbing, she put her arms around my boy's small frame and pulled him onto her lap. From there, my little therapist smiled at her, took her handkerchief out of her hand, and dried her puffy eyes. Then, he tried to let her blow her nose! When that didn't seem to work, he hopped off her lap and offered her the glass of water.

After taking a few sips of water, Trudy hesitatingly started to explain why she was here, this early in the morning:

"I already know I can trust both you and Harry, and that is why I am here to tell you my life story. So far, I've never told the real story of my marriage to anyone before; until, for the first time ever, I accidentally told Eric..."

Looking very unhappy and a bit ashamed, Trudy started to reveal to us the real reason of her marriage...

Fourteen years ago, she went outside, didn't look where she was going, and accidentally bumped into a nice and warmhearted neighbor who lived in the same neighborhood. Because they liked each other at first sight, they started to talk, drank some wine, and suddenly found themselves in each other's arms. Soon, they went upstairs and made love, and both of them enjoyed it very much. However, Trudy felt too young to have a relationship and honestly told the man so. They parted as good friends, but promised each other to let their escapade be a one-time happening... A month later, Trudy found out she was pregnant! Immediately, she decided to keep her child, although she didn't want to be an unmarried mother. She only blamed herself for not using any protection. Although she was very concerned about what her parents and the neighbors would say, she also felt too ashamed to tell the real father the truth. That is why she decided to seduce an unmarried friend from another town, named Eric. She paid Eric a visit, told him she liked him, and persuaded him to make love to her. A few weeks later, she returned to Eric, told him she was pregnant from him, and forced him to marry her.

Surprisingly, Eric immediately believed her and only blamed himself for not using any contraception. They married in a hurry. Eight months later, a little boy was born, and they decided to call him John, after Trudy's father. Although the boy didn't resemble Eric at all, and a friend even joked about 'a nice postman', Eric still didn't suspect anything. Trudy felt in heaven with such a friendly and healthy child and thanked the real father in her mind, although she decided not to tell him anything. Two years later, Trudy and Eric had another boy, Mark; and, after another year, they had a girl, Marrie. All the time, Eric never even hinted at the fact that John didn't look like him, although the boy clearly differed from his other children. The only peculiar thing was that John could never do any good in Eric's always-accusing eyes...

Two days ago, after I took little Harry home, Trudy and Eric had a fight. Eric accused Trudy of being too softhearted regarding their oldest son, John. He thought that John had started to behave too cheeky since he met that 'Big Harry', and didn't show any more respect to his own father. He also stated that they had to punish John more sternly from now on. To start with, he wanted to forbid John and his other children from visiting that 'Big Harry' ever again! At first, Trudy didn't know what to do. She knew that John and I had become close friends, that John trusted me absolutely, and that he almost saw me as his second father. She also wanted to protect John from her too rigid husband, who didn't understand anything about their true feelings... In her sudden grief and desperation, she started to yell at Eric and accidentally told him the truth. She exclaimed that he was only stupid and jealous because John wasn't even his own descendant!

For a few seconds, Eric fell silent. Then, he exploded with ire, called Trudy a 'filthy whore', and told her he wanted an immediate divorce. He nearly hit her, but quickly stomped upstairs and hastily filled a couple of trunks with his possessions. Next, he promised Trudy to be back soon, to take his 'own' children, Mark and Marrie, to a juvenile home to get a more proper education, while she could do with her 'bastard child' as she liked. He threw his trunks into his car and left the house with screeching tires... This morning, Eric suddenly returned, planning to take Mark and Marrie to a juvenile home. He wanted to give his 'own' children a more proper education, and he also wanted to save them from getting even more corrupted by that 'Big Harry'. Trudy's 'bastard child' could do as he liked, because Eric didn't want to waste any more time on him! He ordered Mark and Marrie to gather their belongings and follow him to his car NOW...

Although Trudy felt perplexed, she also decided to defy her husband. Therefore, she told her children to go to their own rooms without listening to their father, and she threatened Eric to call the police and sue him for abandoning his family. Angrily, she pushed her husband towards the door and demanded that he leave immediately and never come back... This time, Eric exploded with ire, attacked his wife, and forcefully slapped her face! Immediately, John threw himself at Eric and pummeled and kicked him with all of his might! Raging and screaming, he kicked his 'father' out of the house, using his fists and his feet, while shouting at Eric to leave their house NOW and never come back, unless he wanted to be kicked out again by the only REAL man in the house!

Eric seemed to be afraid of John's unexpected outburst of rage, because he didn't even try to fight him back. Trying to protect his bruised body from John's still raging fists and feet, he quickly turned around and hobbled towards his car, screaming that he would return with a lawsuit to take Mark and Marrie to some juvenile home, while Trudy could keep her own 'bastard child'. With some difficulty, he stumbled into his car, gunned its engine, and took off with screeching tires, on his way hitting a lamppost and losing a headlight... Suddenly, Trudy collapsed onto her chair, crying and laughing hysterically at the same time. My little soul mate stared at her with concern in his eyes and slowly shook his head. Then, he crawled onto my lap, obviously wanting to be held and feel a bit safer. Sitting together in silence, we waited for the still uncontrollably laughing Trudy to recover. As a well-trained psychotherapist, I understood what was happening and I wasn't concerned at all about her mental health. This was only an emotional outburst, and she would soon be her 'normal' self again.

Within a few minutes, Trudy had recovered enough to tell us the REAL truth about her oldest son:

"John's real father is JACK, the deceased former owner of your house! Only, I've never told Jack that John is his own son, and now it's too late to tell him the truth. Now, Jack is dead and buried, and he will never know that he had a son and that I really loved him..."

At that moment, I heard Jack's voice in my inside, sounding sad:

"I DID know the truth, but never told anybody."

Finally, I had a first-hand acknowledgment of what I already suspected. After I saw Jack's 'spirit', I knew that John looked like Jack and not like Eric! Now, Trudy confirmed that Jack and John really were father and son. Fortunately, they had been able to see each other regularly during the past two years, despite Eric's hatred... Then, a peculiar thought struck me. Because Jack had been my own little brother before he reincarnated, didn't that make John my 'nephew'?

Chapter 2. Two growing boys start living in my house.

Now that Trudy had revealed her burning secret to us, she seemed to feel both very relieved and quite a lot better. After drinking the rest of the water, she first rose from her chair and took a couple of tissues from out table, to dry her eyes and blow her nose.

Then, she asked my little soul mate and me, still sounding a bit timid:

"Until now, I've never told the truth about my marriage to anybody else. Please, Big Harry and little Harry, could you keep my real life story a secret from John, until he will be old enough to understand why I did it?"

For a split second, my little soul mate and I looked at each other, having a short conversation without words. Then, we both nodded at the same time. Of course, we would keep Trudy's revelation a secret from John until he would be old enough. She could reckon on us, and our lips were sealed!

Trudy seemed to feel even more relieved, while she went on:

"Now, I also want to ask you for a favor. Because I will try to evade Eric's wrath until we have recovered from our emotions, I'm going to ask my mother to let us stay in her house for a few weeks. Both Mark and Marrie want to join me; but John asked me to let him stay here, with you and Harry. I know he is very fond of his 'little Gypsy brother', and he already thinks the world of you. I only hope I am not imposing too much; but I know that my oldest son will be in good hands with you and with Harry..."

Again, my little soul mate and I had a short conversation without words, while my boy happily smiled at me. Without using any words, we already knew what the other thought. This was exactly what Christian had foretold, and what my clairvoyant little Shaman had predicted!

After smiling back at my happy looking boy, I answered Trudy:

"Of course, John can always stay here, with Harry and me, whenever necessary. If he wants to, I will even give him his own room with his own belongings in it, he can sleep in our spare folding bed, and I will treat him as if he is my own son. Plus, I will give you all the help that I can, you can always count on me, and I am sure you can count on our youngest friend over here as well."

My little soul mate nodded fiercely, although he also looked as if he felt a little bit annoyed. Of course, we could always count on him as well! How could anybody ever be in doubt about such a self-evident thing...

Looking happy, Trudy rose from her chair and embraced both little Harry and me, while she told us:

"Thank you very much, both of you, for your much appreciated help; and your generous offer takes a load off my mind! How can I ever thank you? Now, I'm going back home to pack our belongings; and I will send John here as soon as we are ready."

Half an hour later, three cheerful children entered our house, carrying a cardboard box, two skateboards, and a huge plastic bag with at least a wagonload of small computer games. Of course, my little soul mate immediately joined them and helped them stow everything away in John's new room that was next to his own bedroom. For a couple of minutes, I heard them rummaging in John's room while having lots of fun. Then, they tumbled downstairs and entered our living room, again teasing and pushing each other as usual.

John seemed to limp a bit, but he smiled apologetically while he explained:

"I think I've kicked Eric's shins too forcefully and sprained my ankle. But, I would do it again immediately. That son of a bitch has to keep his filthy hands off my Mom! Next time, I will kick him straight into a hospital. Before I left our house, I've already put my baseball bat ready in our hallway, to use it on him in case he ever shows up again..."

John limped towards me and trustfully jumped up at me, to let me catch his heavy frame in midair as he had done before. Although my old and a bit rusty spine groaned with the unexpected effort, I succeeded in holding both him and myself steady. While hugging me almost to death, John told me he already loved me dearly and secretly wished that I were his Dad instead of Eric. And, now that he was going to live in my house for a few weeks, he would try to behave as if he really were my own son.

I chuckled at seeing his serious face, and teasingly asked him:

"Are you sure you know how I want my own son to behave?"

"Duh... Of course, that is up to you; but, looking at what Harry always does, I think it will be not too difficult. Perhaps, you could let me have some extra freedom at first, to experiment a bit?"

"Don't try to outwit me, son! It's difficult enough for me to have ONE such a brainiac around."

"Well, before I left our house, Mom told me that YOU suggested to let me have my own room in your house. So, having to cope with my too witty brainiac brain is entirely your own fault!"

"Yes, of course... again, everything is MY fault, as usual. Thank you very much."

Both Mark and Marrie started to laugh, while I put John back onto his feet and teasingly tickled his ribs. Of course, he tried to tickle me back; but suddenly winced from the pain, because he had injured a couple of fingers while punching Eric. With a sour face, he promised to get back at me and tickle me to death, immediately after his strained ankle and injured fingers had healed... A few seconds later, my little soul mate left us and raced towards our hallway, from where we heard him open our front door and happily greet Trudy. Clearly, his Shaman abilities were working again! Soon, he returned, followed by Trudy who wanted to collect Mark and Marrie. First, she handed John a piece of paper with her mother's phone number on it. John gave me the paper; and I stored it away in my desk, next to Christian's business card. Again, Trudy told me how much she appreciated my help. Then, she hugged John, little Harry, and me; and I promised again to take good care of her son. Mark and Marrie followed her outside to their already waiting taxicab, on their way promising to send us a postcard if they didn't forget to buy one. We walked them to their cab, and waved them out until the cab disappeared around a corner.

Suddenly, I had TWO growing boys living in my house! I only hoped I would be able to cope with them properly, without making any serious mistakes. Hopefully, my two boys would be able to cope with ME as well... Fortunately, both boys seemed to be relatively easy to manage; at least up to now. Feeling fatherly, I told them to go upstairs and set John's room ready for the night. Immediately, they raced upstairs to fetch the second folding bed from the attic. Soon, I heard them rummaging around in John's new room, obviously bouncing up and down on the groaning folding bed. Although I hoped the bed would survive their attacks, I decided not to intervene. A few minutes later, I heard them leave John's room and open the hallway closet, to look for sheets, blankets, and pillows. Immediately, they were in a vigorous pillow fight, yelling and baritoning at each other while having the fun of their lives.

Finally, two happy looking boys tumbled into our living room, and my little soul mate asked:

"Dad, do you have something to eat for us? We are starving!"

"Growing boys should eat lots of food, to grow as strong and be as well-built as I am?"

Suddenly falling silent, both boys stared at me in obvious disdain, as if I had told them a very bad joke. Then, they started to moan, while demonstratively rubbing their already rumbling stomachs and doing their utmost to look famished. Laughing at their exaggerated faces, I told my piteous ragamuffins to follow me to our kitchen. Much to my astonishment, my own stomach started to rumble as well, telling me loud and clear we had totally forgotten to eat this morning... Oh my; these poor boys! They were living here for less than an hour, and I had already neglected them. Would they really be able to cope with me like this?

Chuckling at seeing my guilty face, John jumped onto my back, while little Harry clamped onto my front. Carefully, while trying not to overload my groaning old back, I dragged my precious load into our kitchen. Of course, I was already preparing myself for having to endure many more of their playful attacks. Being young kids, they seemed to love our romping and teasing very much. To be honest, my own inner child loved our romping and teasing too, very much! We arrived in our kitchen without stumbling; and both boys immediately started to gather their foodstuff. John dived for the milk in the refrigerator, while little Harry took two bowls and our newly bought cereal to the table. They seemed to be really starved, because they didn't even have time for any tasty cooking. They just poured themselves a glass of milk and a bowl of cereal, and started to wolf their food down. Only after eating their second bowl of cereal, my bottomless pits started to calm down. Especially John got a pensive look on his face, while staring at his little brother.

In between two mouthfuls of cereal, John suddenly asked him:

"Harry? You still have to tell me what that 'psychic medium', Christian, told you..."

Quickly, my little soul mate swallowed his mouthful of cereal, before he answered with a proud face:

"Christian helped me remember that I am a Gypsy Crown Prince, and I will be our next Gypsy King when I am old enough to reign! Because the caravan fire burnt down all my memories from my past, I totally forgot that I am a real Gypsy Prince. Therefore, Christian helped me remember who I am, while a Healing Ancestor poked inside my head and tickled my unconscious brain, to make my disappeared memories return. Now, I remember that I am of Royal Herot... err... Herot-something? In short, I am 'Gypsy Crown Prince Harold Romani', our future Gypsy Leader and the one and only Gypsy Heir to the Throne!"

Total silence fell over our kitchen, while a surprised looking John nearly choked on his next mouthful of cereal. For quite some time, my young friend only stared at his 'little Gypsy brother', as if he didn't believe a word of what my boy told him. All the time, he slowly shook his head, while our little Gypsy Crown Prince looked back at his big brother with sparkling eyes and a proudly beaming face. In his obvious eagerness, he didn't even think about 'reading' John's thoughts, to sense that John just didn't believe him...

After a long silence, John exclaimed, with a skeptic voice:

"YOU should be a Gypsy Crown Prince and of Royal Heritage? Why are you trying to pull my leg?"

"Oh yeah, the correct word is 'heritage', and it's still a difficult word in your language. But, I really am Gypsy Crown Prince Harold Romani! Inside myself, I always knew that I have an important task to fulfill on our Planet Earth, but I couldn't remember any more what my task was. Now, I remember again that my own Gypsy people are waiting for me, to be their next gypsy Leader when I am old enough to reign. Only, my subjects don't know why I suddenly vanished, and I have no idea where I can find them..."

Still looking full of amazement and disbelief, John hesitantly answered:

"My goodness, I am speechless! This is the last thing I ever expected... My 'little brother' suddenly turns out to be a real Gypsy Crown Prince and of Royal Heritage... So, from now on, we will have to call you 'Prince Harold'?"

Looking a bit shocked, my little soul mate quickly responded:

"Don't you DARE do that! Of course, I have to keep my Royal Heritage a secret from everybody, until I will be old enough to reign as our next Gypsy King and my own Gypsy people have found me."

For quite some time, John only stared at our little Gypsy Crown Prince, with a vacant look in his eyes. Absent-mindedly, he took the next spoonful of cereal and put it into his mouth, still shaking his head as if trying to deny his little brother's unbelievable revelation.

Still looking as if he couldn't believe this latest news, he finally asked me:

"Is Harry telling the truth, sir? Or, is he only bragging and making things up..."

"Yes, Harry is telling the truth. He really is 'Crown Prince Harold Romani', the two years ago vanished Gypsy Heir to the Throne."

"Oh, WOW... I never thought that my little brother could be a Gypsy Crown Prince, although he sometimes acts very arrogant, as if he could be an unknown Aristocrat... Well, now that I think about it some more, it really starts to make sense..."

John brought the next spoonful of cereal to his mouth, chewed on it, and absent-mindedly swallowed it down, still staring into empty space. He seemed to be very impressed about his little brother being a Gypsy Crown Prince, as if he had to digest the unexpected information first... In the meantime, our little Gypsy Prince stared at John with proud eyes. Obviously, he still was very eager to tell John about Christian's other revelations. In his over-enthusiasm, he didn't even sense that John was still digesting the first unexpected information...

With a happy sounding baritone voice, my boy went on:

"You remember Dad's little brother, Joshie, who burnt himself to death? After Joshie died; he returned to earth and reincarni... err... was born again, as Jack. Therefore, Dad and Jack are brothers! After Jack died, he brought Dad to his former house, so that Dad is now my new Big Friend and helps me grow up. In our past lives, I was Dad's own little son, and you were our closest neighbor and best friend, until a grizzly bear killed us and we met again in heaven. Now, all of us are reincarno... err... born again, and living here in Jack's former house. Because Jack once was Dad's little brother; that makes Dad your uncle, and you are Dad's nephew because Jack is your REAL father..."

Suddenly, my over-enthusiastic little soul mate fell silent, clasped both hands over his mouth, and looked severely shocked! While his face turned a deep red, he nearly started to cry from sudden shame and tried to disappear under our kitchen table.

Barely audible, my boy's small baritone voice stammered:

"I am so sorry... I promised Mom to keep her life story a secret from you, until you would be old enough to understand why she couldn't tell you anything about why she was pregnant from Jack but married Eric..."

With a guilty face, my boy plopped his small head onto his arms and didn't dare look up again; while John seemed to feel shocked into his deepest core. Nearly forgetting to eat his next spoonful of cereal, he just stared into empty space with a deep frown on his pensive face, as if trying to put his suddenly entangled thoughts together. Again, he slowly shook his head as if trying to deny my boy's newest revelation. Then, slowly, his facial expression started to change from unbelief towards comprehension and finally into insight and acceptance...

At last, John turned towards me and thought aloud:

"I always suspected that Eric wasn't my real father, but I couldn't prove it. Both Mark and Marrie look like Eric, but I look totally different! I look like Jack, and Jack and I always teased each other about having the same nasty genes and the same bad habits. From the first day we met, Jack was far more a Dad to me than Eric has ever been! Of course, I knew that Mom was pregnant from me before she married Eric, and that made me think. Whenever Eric was around, he always only picked on me and never on Mark or on Marrie. And, Eric hated Jack! I think he suspected something but couldn't prove it..."

John fell silent again, still chewing his mouthful of cereal while staring into empty space as before. My little soul mate still stared into his bowl, now and then absent-mindedly poking in it. I was thinking about how to proceed from here. Had my boy's unintentional revelation been my fault? Should I have warned him some more, after promising Trudy to keep everything a secret from John? Ultimately, he was only eight years old and perhaps still a bit too young to keep such an important secret... What would John do when the full significance of this unexpected revelation dawned on him? Besides, what would Trudy think of us now; if she ever found out that we had broken our promise and revealed her biggest secret to what Eric had called her 'bastard child'?

Suddenly, I heard Jack's voice in my inside, sounding a bit timid:

"My dear brother, don't blame yourself, because none of this was your fault. I have manipulated your son's flow of thoughts so that he revealed the truth to my own son, because John has to know who he is in reality. But, now, I feel a bit sorry..."

A second later, my little soul mate looked up from his bowl in sudden surprise, as if he could have heard or felt something. First, he frowned, shook his head in denial, and silently whispered a couple of words. Then, he suddenly started to look naughty! Could Jack have told my boy that he had manipulated his 'flow of thoughts', to force him to reveal Trudy's secret to John?

Trying to help my little soul mate feel less guilty, I told him:

"Harry? You didn't make a mistake, because it is good for John to know who his real father is!"

When my boy heard my voice, he looked up at me and stared deeply into my eyes, while his built-in sun already restarted to shine. First, he read my thoughts, as if he wanted to be sure. Then, he looked at John who was still deep in thought. Again, he looked at me; and I was sure I now saw a faint smile cross his lips, as if he felt a bit naughty while thinking of something funny...

With a suddenly smug face, my boy explained:

"Mom's secret slipped out of my mouth because Jack changed my 'flow of thoughts' on purpose! Although he did it because his own son has to know the truth, I still don't like being a blabbermouth! Now, I am mad at Jack for misusing me, and I've told him to leave me alone until I ask him to show up again."

Again, I saw my little Prince's proud demeanor of Aristocracy, as if he kindly admonished a misbehaving subject. Then, I started to chuckle at the thought that even our 'Spirit Guides' weren't infallible. I would keep that in mind for a next time! At hearing my chuckling, John looked at me with a questioning face; but I told him that I only laughed at my own thoughts... My young friend shook his head in obvious disbelief, as if he thought I could be some weirdo. Then, he rose from his chair and started to put away the milk and the cereal and wash the used bowls. Soon, little Harry helped him, by drying the bowls and cleaning the table and the sink. In the meantime, I sipped my coffee and nibbled on the remainder of my toast with butter and cheese, still pondering. What should I do now? Should I try to explain everything to John? Or, would it be better to wait until John would be ready to ask his own questions...

After my boys were finished, we went to our living room and silently slumped down on our usual couch. In the meantime, I felt more and more uneasy about how John would react once he realized the full truth about Jack being his real father instead of Eric... However, John already threw himself onto my lap, while his enveloping aura felt like an unsure child that didn't want to feel guilty any more and decided to do something about it.

With a small voice, John hesitatingly asked me:

"Please, Big Harry, may I call you 'Dad' from now on? Of course, I know you are my 'uncle' and I am your 'nephew', but I don't like those words..."

For a split second, I looked at my little soul mate, and my boy looked back at me and nodded his consent. Again, we had a conversation without words and understood each other perfectly. My little soul mate wasn't jealous at all, and he would be only very happy to have John as a real big brother!

Feeling relieved and happy again, I answered my young friend:

"Okay 'nephew', you may call me 'Dad' for as long as you are here; but, please, never tell this to your father at home..."

Immediately, John jumped upright and spat out, with very much venom and bitterness in his voice:

"Eric NEVER was my 'father at home'; and I wish I had known the truth before. My REAL father is Jack! But, now that Jack is dead and buried, and I am sort of your nephew, I am very happy to have YOU as my new Dad. Thank you very much, Dad, for letting me call you Dad from now on. Finally, I am your son for real, and Harry can be my little brother for real!"

Again, John and I could feel our mutual Love grow by leaps and bounds! Almost choking up from sheer happiness, I welcomed my 'new son' into my life... Then, John's 'little brother' claimed his own share and quickly joined our cuddle.

Chapter 3. Searching for adoption; three sweaty boys.

For a long time, my two sons and I cuddled on our couch, feeling our mutual love radiate between us and caress our souls. Then, boys will be boys, and both John and little Harry had to go to the bathroom. After they returned, they wanted to take their skateboards outside to play around the block while looking out for Thomas and Chrissy, hopefully without meeting Jason... They offered me a big kiss and a hug, and promised to be home before lunch. First, they went upstairs to put on some older clothes and fetch their skateboards. Then, they went outside through our backdoor, to find Thomas and Chrissy and have fun.

Suddenly feeling alone, I went to my desk and started to set up my old but still trustworthy computer. Only, something seemed to be seriously wrong with it, because no Internet screen showed up. All the cable modem lights were blinking, and I had already checked and double-checked all the wiring, but my Internet connection just wouldn't come to life. After some more trying, I finally phoned my cable company, where a nice helpdesk operator guided me through a new setup. Suddenly, their homepage appeared, and tons of emails started to stream in! Feeling happy again, I thanked the technician for his invaluable help, and immediately started to sort out all the incoming mails. Spam, more spam, even more spam... and one serious email from one of my daughters who congratulated me with my new home. In response to her email, I thanked her and invited her for a visit, but only after I had settled down some more. For the moment, I didn't want my family to know about my two young friends living in my house, to avoid any curious questions.

Now that my computer finally did what it should do, I surfed to a well-known search engine and typed in 'burn injuries'. Within a few seconds, I stared in horror at lots of pictures of severely burnt people, nasty skin graft operations, and all sorts of burn bandages and appliances. The vast amount of burn treatment information overwhelmed me; and, at first, I felt a bit nauseous at all the terrible sights. Then, I started to read, and found out there are three 'degrees of burns'. The first degree causes only redness and swelling, the second degree causes blisters and pain, and the third degree causes dead flesh and open wounds. After going through some more information, I suspected that my little soul mate had suffered at least a couple of second-degree burns, and maybe even some third-degree ones. Just like all those horrible examples from the Internet sites, he too had gone through a lengthy and painful recovery.

Feeling more and more curious, I now searched for 'skin healing procedures' and 'plastic surgery'. This time, only a few sites popped up, and none of them was of real help. Most sites told me that surgeons couldn't do much to improve the look of severely burnt victims. A few sites hinted at the possibilities of some modern skin transplantation with 'cultivated tissue'; but they didn't give any details except for a couple of good looking pictures of transplanted people. At last, I found a few addresses of modern transplant clinics; but they seemed to be extremely expensive and didn’t give much information either. Yet, I wrote their addresses down, in case I wanted to ask them for more information. Perhaps, one of their transplant surgeons could examine my burnt little soul mate and give us some advice?

Now that I had gathered enough 'burn injury' information, I typed in the word 'adoption'. Within seconds, thousands of sites showed up, all of them containing at least some adoption information. Courageously, I started to work my way through them; immediately discarding most sites. Now and then, I found an article or suggestion that looked interesting or promising. However, much to my dismay, two important things became painfully clear: For a divorced man or a single parent like me, it would be extremely difficult to adopt any young child at all. And, most authorities would never allow me to adopt a young child, because I was too old and didn't have a younger woman in the house! In a few exceptional cases, guardianship might be granted, but only when either parents or close relatives gave their consent. Unfortunately, none of those sites explained what happens when an orphaned child doesn't have any known relatives at all...

Suddenly, two happy looking boys with sweaty faces stormed into our living room, exclaiming:

"Hi, Dad; we are hungry! What do you have for lunch?"

"What? You are hungry again? So soon?"

"Well, we are still growing boys, you know..."

Feeling surprised, I looked at our clock, and felt a bit shocked when I saw that I had been surfing the Internet for more than three hours! I never thought that using a computer to look up some facts would take up so much time.

Trying to look remorseful, I ruffled my boys' hair and told them:

"Sorry, sons, but I have been busy with my computer and forgot the time."

My youngest son started to chuckle and teased me:

"It looks like our 'ancient grandpa' always forgets something important!"

I tried to grab my insolent imp, but he reacted too fast for the 'ancient grandpa' and easily escaped. Well, I will try to have my revenge later on. For the time being, I followed both boys to our kitchen, where they immediately started to collect ingredients for a healthy lunch. Soon, all three of us were working together, of course directed by our little cookie. I buttered a pile of slices of toast, while John boiled a couple of eggs, and little Harry sliced the tomatoes, got some lettuce, and gathered a few tasty herbs from his own little garden. Although we had simple sandwiches, they were quite tasty! After enjoying our healthy meal, both boys burped naughtily; and, of course, my own inner child reacted and copied its friends. When our heartfelt laughing ceased, we ended our meal with fresh oranges and three cups of tea, because I tried to get rid of my coffee addiction. This time, I really hoped I would be able to suppress my excessive coffee-thirst...

Then, Thomas called his friends from our still open backdoor; and both boys quickly hugged me before they disappeared outside, with their inseparable skateboards clamped under their arms. Again, I spent several hours in front of my computer, still looking for a workable solution that would allow me to legally and officially become little Harry's Dad. However, the only legal way to accomplish such a difficult task seemed to be, to marry a woman who is still young, and adopt little Harry as our own child... Only, at least for now, I didn't want my organized life to be disordered THAT much. Why was it so difficult, for a divorced man, to adopt a young child? Couldn't there be another and much easier way to become my boy's official Dad? I kept searching; and, now and then, I stumbled upon a success story. Every time, it gave me some more hope that there might be other options as well...

Suddenly, three happy looking boys with sweaty faces stormed into our living room, exclaiming:

"Hi, Dad; can Thomas eat with us? His parents and Chrissy aren't home yet, and he is all alone."

"Of course, Thomas MAY eat with us. Only, you will have to wash your dirty hands and sweaty faces first."

"Please, can we... oops, sorry... MAY we take a quick shower? I feel sweaty all over, after all that skateboarding..."

"Yes, of course. Are you sure you know how to handle the too difficult warm water tap, or do I have to help you?"

"DAAAD... You are no fun!"

Happily, my three sweaty rascals raced upstairs, while teasing and pushing each other to be there first. Chuckling at their playful antics, I returned to my computer and restarted my Internet search for 'adoption'. Again, I started to read site after site, but didn't find what I was looking for. This was becoming boring! Half an hour later, my own stomach rumbled loudly as if telling me it was time to be fed. Chuckling, I shut my computer down and left my desk, to go to my kitchen. Should I try to prepare a healthy dinner for three bottomless pits and for myself, without waiting for my little cookie and his tasty herbs, to surprise my three rascals? Only, halfway down the hallway, I suddenly stopped and listened. What was all that loud noise coming from upstairs? What were my three boys doing, being in our shower stall for at least half an hour? Feeling curious, I went upstairs, opened the shower room door, and looked inside...

Involuntarily, I started to bellow with laughter at the funny sight! Our young inventor, John, had cleverly built sort of a 'fort' out of several plastic cups he had clamped together with paperclips. Now, he tried to defend his fort with his own life, jumping up and down to intercept the many water streams that threatened to tear the walls to pieces; while Thomas and little Harry were working closely together, trying to blow more and more breaches into the plastic cup walls. They were using several already filled 'water guns' they had ingeniously fabricated with air balloons attached to drinking straws. After filling their balloons with water, they only had to squeeze them to produce a forceful water stream that inevitably blew the next plastic cup away and caused John to jump after it with a desperate face.

Suddenly, my three rascals saw me, standing in the doorway and laughing at their antics. For a split second, they stared at me and at each other... Then, all three boys grabbed an already filled water gun, pointed it at me, and forcefully squeezed their balloons. Within a second, I was drenched through to my skin! Involuntarily, a loud yelp escaped my shocked mouth, while I tried to protect myself against their water attacks with both hands. Of course, all three scoundrels fell down onto the shower floor while roaring with laughter!

Hastily, I retreated downstairs, on my way already brooding on something appropriate for revenge. Shivering from the wet cold, I entered my kitchen to look for something usable. Soon, I found what I was looking for, and filled a bucket with ice-cold water. Silently, I tiptoed upstairs, opened the shower room door, and aimed carefully... Now, I had MY turn to roar with laughter, at hearing three loud yelps coming from three suddenly shivering boys. Sweet revenge! Still chuckling, I left my three groaning imps in the shower stall and went to my own bedroom to change out of my wet clothes. Only, within two seconds, three dripping wet boys showed up behind me.

Still shivering from coldness, John asked me with a tiny voice:

"Dad? Do you happen to have any dry towels? The ones we used are all wet..."

Good heavens! Is this what a household with growing children looks like? My three rascals had to share the only dry towel I was able to find in my hallway closet. Then, they went to John's room where they had shucked their clothes. Fortunately, they hadn't put their clothes in our very wet shower room... In the meantime, I had to use my kitchen towel from downstairs, to be able to dry myself properly. After my three boys returned downstairs, I forced them to promise to mend their ways and not make such a mess with my towels a next time they used our shower. I also made a mental note to purchase at least a wagonload of extra towels, next time we went shopping.

At last, three hungry looking boys crowded around me, while John wheedled:

"Dad, could we please order pizzas tonight? We are fond of all kinds, but not those with salty anchovy fishes..."

I nodded, and John immediately raced to my phone in our living room to call a pizzeria. Soon, he returned, with the promise that our pizzas would be delivered within twenty minutes. Now, all three rascals started to wait; while impatiently strolling through our house and looking at our clock at least every twenty seconds. Never before had 'time' been this tardy, which was very different from when I had been scouring the Internet... After nineteen minutes, my boys couldn't wait any longer. Impatiently, they went outside and huddled together, while staring at the closed gate as if forcing our pizzas to show up immediately... They started to cheer loudly when a deliveryman finally entered our driveway, after exactly twenty-two minutes and fifty seconds. It was a wonder the poor man didn't lose his fingers in between all those eagerly grabbing hands. My bottomless pit club seemed to be starved again.

A split second later, our kitchen table was covered with opened pizza boxes. After what felt like another split second, all the pizza boxes were empty and my boys were scraping them for the last crumbs, until even our kitchen table was licked clean. Fortunately, I had rescued one of the pizza boxes for myself, just in time. My three boys hugged me and thanked me for their meal, before they rushed out the backdoor again with their inseparable skateboards clamped under their arms, promising to be back before dark. Happily, I started to devour my rescued pizza, and I also brewed my first cup of heavenly tasting coffee. Unfortunately, my coffee addiction had overwhelmed me again.

Then, I restarted my Internet search, and almost immediately discovered a small country where they nearly always granted an adoption. The only requirement was that my boy and I had to be their residents for at least three months in a row. Well, that didn’t seem to be an insurmountable problem. Perhaps, I now had a workable solution, and I wrote the Internet address down on a piece of paper. Soon, I would try to find a reliable lawyer who specialized in adoptions, and ask for his advice. If this worked out, my little soul mate and I could have a three-month's vacation; and, at the end of it, I would be able to adopt my boy legally!

Just before nine o'clock, three tired looking sweaty boys reentered our house, because Thomas had to go home. First, he thanked me again for the pizzas, and promised his friends to be back tomorrow after he had done some chores first. Then, John and little Harry walked him to the street, and waved goodbye until he entered his own home. In the meantime, I brewed some more coffee and tea; and we sat down on our couch and munched on our cookies. Although I felt a bit ashamed, my coffee addiction really turned out to be too strong for me. However, for the first time since many years, I HAD attempted to put a stop to it!

Just before total darkness set in, I asked John:

"John, do you know how to replace a defective light bulb in our shower room? New bulbs are in our garage."

"Yes, of course, Dad! Come on Harry; let's get a ladder and a new light bulb from Dad's garage..."

Both boys raced outside, and soon returned with my old wooden ladder and a new light bulb. Working together, they carried the ladder upstairs and replaced the defective bulb in no time. Looking proud, they carried the ladder back to the garage, and again sat down next to me on our couch; where my little soul mate started to tell about a nice thirteen-year-old boy they met in the streets while skateboarding. The boy lived only a few blocs away, but he had never seen little Harry before. At first, he acted a bit timid, because he didn't know how to stop staring at such a badly burnt face. Every time, my little soul mate smiled back at him, until the boy hesitantly started to smile in return. Suddenly, the boy taught little Harry how to do a difficult double flip on his skateboard, and the ice was broken. While they sat down for a short rest, the boy hesitantly asked little Harry how came he had such a strange looking face... Little Harry trustfully told him everything about the caravan fire, his many skin operations, and the rubber mask his new Dad had ordered for him. The new boy got tears in his eyes; and both John and little Harry were sure they had found a new friend.

My youngest son leaned into me, while he told me with beaming eyes:

"Dad, I never knew it would be so easy to make new friends, even with my freaky face."

"That is because now you are really proud of yourself!" John answered for me, "But, come on; let's see what's on TV."

John and little Harry started to surf the TV channels, while I went back to my computer. Again, I tried to find some more information about possible adoptions. Only, up to now, the only real possibility seemed to be the country where we had to live for at least three months... After some time, two bored boys approached me and comfortably leaned over my shoulders, to have a look at what I did. I clicked a new link, and a site showed up about a single man who had successfully adopted a small boy from another country. The man had an email address, and I wrote it down in case I wanted to contact him to ask for more information...

At that moment, my little soul mate threw his arms around my neck and exclaimed:

"Are you really going to ADOPT me, Dad?"

"Well, I am looking for possibilities; but it will not be easy."

"Please, Dad, I want to be your son for REAL!"

A second later, John leaned into me, staring at me with pleading eyes while he asked:

"Will you try to adopt me too, Dad? I want to be your real son too..."

"Well, John, I am afraid that will be even more difficult, because you already have a legal Dad. Besides, I am relatively sure that Eric will never allow you to be adopted by ME."

Immediately, John spat out, with very much venom in his voice:

"I NEVER had a legal Dad, because Eric never was my real father! I never knew how a real Dad could be, until I met Jack, two years ago. Jack showed me how a real father acts. He listened to me, taught me things, teased me, and even punished me for being naughty if necessary. Jack was my real Dad; and not that stranger that lives in our house, attacks my Mom, and tries to smoke himself to death... But, now that Jack is dead and buried, I am an orphan and don’t have a living Dad any more, just like Harry. Therefore, from now on, YOU can adopt me! I want YOU to be my real father..."

John put his strong arms around my waist from my left side and tried to melt away into me. Then, my little soul mate put his arms around my neck from behind and tried to melt away into my back. Lovingly, I patted four boyish arms and four clamping hands, to let my boys know I appreciated their love and affection very much. Yes, I certainly wanted to adopt John too, in spite of the obvious impossibility to adopt him because he still had Eric as his 'legal father'. Couldn't that man without a heart really smoke himself to death, preferably soon?

My little soul mate kissed my neck from behind, while he sighed:

"I want you to be my real Dad, and John to be my real brother..."

After cuddling some more and basking in our mutual love and close togetherness, we decided to call it a day and go to bed early. I also felt a bit tired from searching the Internet for adoptions, and rather dull from staring at my computer screen for such a long time; and tomorrow would bring another fresh day. Plus, both boys felt very tired from playing outside and skateboarding all day long. They had already showered, so they only had to wash up, brush their teeth, and shuck their clothes for the night. First, we went to John's new room for a quick inspection, and I was pleasantly surprised to see my boys had already set up the second folding bed from our attic. They had even provided it with clean sheets and blankets. Of course, I praised them abundantly for being such good boys.

Both boys quickly undressed in their own rooms, while I took a nice shower now that the light was working again. When everybody was ready for the night, we wished each other good night and sweet dreams; before both boys hugged me, dived into their own beds, and closed their eyes. Feeling all mushy and full of love, I left their bedrooms and tiptoed to mine. Inside my own bedroom, I clicked my bed lights off, hugged my pillow, and tried to get some sleep. Tomorrow morning, we first had to return to Peter's shop to get my boy's rubber mask. Then, I wanted to buy my boy a nice looking computer desk, with lots of drawers and a sliding computer shelf in the middle...

Chapter 4. Harry gets a rubber mask to hide his scars.

Early in the morning, I woke up from a strange dream that alerted my hunting instinct from my past trapper life and forced me to defend myself against a dangerous attack. In my dream, two hungry baby bears were crawling all over my sleeping body while softly talking to each other, as if planning to taste a few edible chunks of meat from their defenseless prey. In sudden panic, I decided to try to kill both bears and skin them, before their mother showed up and tore me to pieces. Perhaps, I could go downtown and exchange their pelts and tasty meat for some extra food... Fortunately, I woke up before my hunting instinct could do any serious damage. Feeling very surprised, I opened my eyes and stared at two happy looking boys who were crawling all over my sleeping body, while playfully competing for the best place. When they saw that I woke up and looked at them, they slumped down onto my stomach while smiling apologetically.

My youngest baby bear teased me, with a huge smile on his beaming face:

"Good morning, sleepyhead! I thought you would never wake up..."

Then, my oldest baby bear told me, with very much love in his deep brown eyes:

"Good morning, Dad; and we are very sorry for waking you this early."

Basking in my again welling feelings of pure love and sheer happiness, I draped my arms around John and little Harry, pulled them even closer to my chest, and felt on cloud nine! I loved both boys with all my heart; and nothing would ever be able to change that, not even our meddlesome 'society' with its prejudiced opinions about grownups sleeping in the same bed with young children that were not their 'own' flesh and blood.... Then, still feeling a little bit guilty, I told my boys about my strange dream and that I had wanted to kill both baby bears and skin them before their mother showed up, to exchange their valuable pelts and tasty meat for some extra food...

My hesitant confession made my little soul mate chuckle:

"Next time, you better dream about two cuddling bears, because I don't want to be skinned and exchanged for some food!"

Chuckling at seeing two little fun lights in my boy's bright blue eyes, I responded:

"Okay, I promise I will never exchange you. By the way, what time is it?"

After basking even more in each other's mutual love and close togetherness, we decided to leave our cozy bed and prepare ourselves for the upcoming day. Today, we had to don our best clothes, because we had to visit Peter's shop to fetch little Harry's new mask; and I wanted to buy a nice computer desk with lots of drawers and a sliding shelf in the middle for my youngest son. Therefore, we left our bed, took a quick shower, dressed, and went downstairs and into our kitchen. Soon, our heavenly smelling scrambled eggs and tomatoes were ready, and we savored their enjoyable taste very much. This time, my little cookie sat at the other side of our table, humming happily while devouring his food, now and then staring at John who had pulled his chair next to mine and seemed to lean into me as much as he could. After savoring our tasty breakfast, I asked John and little Harry to squeeze a couple of oranges. They did, and all three of us drank a healthy glass of freshly squeezed juice. Next, my boys cleared the table, while I brewed my first cup of fresh coffee and took it into our living room.

We still had a few minutes left, so I settled down on our couch and sipped my heavenly tasting coffee. This time, my little soul mate took place at my left side, still staring at John while humming happily. John slumped down next to me, as close as possible, in his obvious eagerness nearly pushing me towards his still softly humming little brother. Well, I didn't complain; but this was not John's usual behavior! Could my young friend have something on his mind that bothered him? His softly humming little brother seemed to have the same idea, probably because he had read John's mind and therefore already knew what John's problem was...

After a few seconds, John suddenly asked me, with a worried look on his face:

"Dad? Why did Eric call me a 'bastard child'? And, am I one, because I don't have a real father?"

Aha, that was what had bothered my cuddly young friend! Obviously, John had been thinking this over and over, until he started to feel like an abandoned child that desperately wanted to belong to somebody... Only, how in the world could I explain Eric's hatred against John without using any denouncing words or hurting John's feelings even more? Stealthily, I looked at my softly humming little Shaman next to me; who already knew what had been bothering his big brother. Obviously, my little soul mate also read my thoughts, because he abruptly stopped humming and turned towards his big brother.

Taking over completely, my little therapist explained to John:

"Of course, you are NOT a 'bastard child', because you always had both a real Mom and a real Dad! Only, you were living with your Mom, while your real Dad lived five doors away until he died. Therefore, the only real 'bastard' here is Eric, because he always tried to hurt your feelings! Now, stop pitying yourself, and try to enjoy the pleasant company of both your new Dad and me..."

For quite some time, John stared at his little brother with eyes full of love and gratitude, while his facial expression changed from sadness into understanding and acceptance. Then, he suddenly buried his face in my chest and started to cry his heart out! Of course, I pulled my young friend even closer, while sending him all the Tender Love and Care that I was able to muster. In the meantime, I thanked my little soul mate in my mind for his help, knowing he would again pick up my thoughts, and probably also know what to do next to help John even more....

Indeed, my little therapist bent over towards John and whispered into his ear:

"Let it go, brother, and don't bottle it up! In a few minutes, you will feel a lot better."

John really listened to his little brother, because he now let himself go completely. Sobbing loudly, he started to curse at Eric who hated him so much and even called him a 'bastard child'. Then, he cried for all his sorrows and disappointments about a 'father' who wasn't his real father and never would be. Screaming at the top of his lungs, he wished Eric into hell and beyond for not having a heart at all! After calming down some, he continued to cry for his real father, Jack, who had left his little brother and him too soon. He cried for his burnt little brother, for himself, and for always being blamed for anything that ever went wrong. At last, he cried for all the other emotions he had bottled up in his heart and in his mind... until his heavy sobs started to diminish, while he slowly recovered from his built-up grieves. Little Harry went to our kitchen and got John a glass of water, dried his eyes for him, and even helped him blow his nose.

Slowly, John's built-in sun restarted to shine, until he sighed:

"Sorry, Dad, for still being such a crybaby at my age..."

Trying to make John laugh, and to release some of our built-up tension, I teased him:

"Next time we are in the supermarket, I will ask Kees to get you a packet of diapers!"

Smiling at the thought of having to wear diapers, John responded:

"You better ask Kees to get me some more packets of tissues..."

Trying to release John's tension even more, my little therapist started to tickle his ribs, and that made John's built-in sun break through completely. Only, now John turned around and tried to tickle ME, immediately helped by my youngest imp who knew all my sensitive spots! Working together, they continued to tickle me until their ferocious attacks became too much for my old body. While trying to avoid their combined assaults, I fell off our couch, where both boys immediately dived onto me in triumph and continued their attacks.

Now groaning loudly, I almost begged them for mercy:

"Please, stop tickling now, because I am nearly wetting my pants!"

"Okay, we will ask Kees to get YOU a packet of diapers!"

Still chuckling, my merciless duo let me go, with the promise to get me back later after we returned from Peter's shop. John left us and went to our kitchen to wash his tear-stained face and drink some water. Soon, he returned, looking a lot cleaner and much fresher.

With a suddenly shocked face, my youngest imp looked at our clock and asked:

Dad? What time are we expected in Peter's shop, to get my new mask?"

Immediately, we were in a tremendous hurry! My little soul mate snatched my keys from our table, John took my wallet from my desk, and all of us raced at top speed to our car and quickly dived inside. With screeching tires, I left our driveway and drove around the corner, on my way nearly hitting a lamppost.

Suddenly, my little soul mate tapped my shoulder from behind and begged:

"Please, Dad, don't try to outdo John's father... err... sorry, I mean Eric."

My boy's worried voice calmed me down considerably, and I started to drive a lot more safely. Of course, my boy was right; and five extra minutes wouldn't make much of a difference. After slowing down even more and telling both boys to buckle up for more safety, I searched our car stereo for some nice background music. In the meantime, John again told me where I had to drive to get to Peter's shop. Although I had been there before, my young friend still had to guide me, because my old and a bit rusty mind was too busy thinking about John's unexpected catharsis...

Just in time, I parked our car in front of Peter's small studio. This time, my little soul mate was the first one who left his seat and headed directly for the shop door, followed suit by John and me. Enthusiastically, my boy stepped inside and looked around... Only, Peter's little store turned out to be empty! Could Peter have forgotten to be here? My boy's sudden disappointment was almost palpable, while his small shoulders slowly slumped down.

Then, a familiar voice sounded from the back of the store:

"Just a minute, please. Have a seat, and I will be right there."

Immediately, the sun returned into my boy's bright blue eyes, and he started to smile broadly. We sat down on Peter's wooden chairs, where we waited patiently for our shop owner to show up and make his excuses.

Two minutes later, Peter entered his shop, on the way drying his hands with a towel while he greeted us:

"Hello, my friends, I'm sorry you had to wait for me."

He threw his wet towel into a corner, where it found its place on a vacant chair. Next, he walked to a small cabinet, took a key out of his pocket, and opened its door. Carefully, he took a green model from a shelf, carried it towards us, and placed it onto a table... In amazement, we looked at a greenish copy of little Harry's head, its front covered with a flesh-colored rubber substance, leaving openings for its mouth, nostrils, and eyes. Soon, my little soul mate bent forward to take a closer look at the model, while holding his breath. Tentatively, he brought a hand towards the flexible rubber substance and touched its nose...

Immediately, he pulled his hand back, nervously chuckling:

"Is that ME? Then, I really look like a 'green alien'!"

Again, he touched the rubbery substance, and uttered:

"This is creepy! It feels as if I am touching a real face..."

Of course, John and I too had to feel the amazing softness of the flexible mask that would cover my son's burnt face. Its substance really felt like normal flesh, and the mask seemed to come to life when you pushed your finger into it. John tried to let the mask produce a smile, before we sat down and looked at Peter who had waited patiently until we recovered from our initial amazement. Now, he took a chair and sat down next to his little client, to teach my boy how he should remove his mask from the green model without tearing its edges. My boy had to repeat it a few times; until Peter was sure he knew how to handle the wobbly mask with enough care. Now, they went to a mirror; where Peter showed my boy how he had to attach the flabby rubber to his burnt face.

At first, little Harry reacted a bit giggly, until he told Peter that the edges tickled his wrinkled lips. He also indicated something about the nose not fitting properly. After Peter carefully peeled the mask off my boy's face, he got some equipment from a drawer and adeptly made a few adjustments. Again, my boy put the flabby mask back onto his face, with a little help from Peter, and tried it out. One lip was still tickling; and, again, Peter made some small modifications. Now, both Peter and little Harry were satisfied with the result. Peter rose from his chair, took a brownish bottle from a shelf, and opened it. Its cap held a small brush; and Peter showed his little client how he should apply the sticky substance from the bottle to his mask. Working together, they made its inside sticky, careful not to forget any important edges.

Now, Peter showed my boy how to handle the sticky mask, by carefully cupping the flabby thing from the outside with both hands. After some trying, my boy could put the wobbly and sticky mask onto his face without creasing its sides, and he only had to rub the mask to all sides to make it fit perfectly! Slowly, my boy turned around, so that John and I could have our first look at his new face... Both John and I felt stunned, while we held our breaths in surprise! Suddenly, we saw a 'normal' looking eight-year-old boy with a cheerful little pug nose, slightly stuffed cheeks, and perfect lips. It was a true miracle! While wearing his rubber mask, nobody would recognize the 'freaky alien' that our burnt little Gypsy Prince had been before. Peter had done a marvelous job! Even Peter got tears in his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away with a tissue. After throwing the used tissue into a wastebasket, he again turned towards our broadly smiling new boy.

With a somewhat throaty voice, Peter told his little client:

"Please, don't try to wear your mask for more than four hours at a time, because your skin might become swollen or inflamed. If that ever happens, immediately stop using the mask and ask your family doctor for some medicine. He will know how to help you. After removing your mask from your face, always clean it with warm water and some liquid soap, and put it back onto the green model to keep its shape. Of course, this mask will last for only a few months because, as a young boy, you are still growing fast. Therefore, within three months, I want to see you back here for another and probably slightly bigger mask."

A very enthusiastic little Harry threw his arms around Peter's waist, while he cheered:

"Thank you very much, Peter, for making such a beautiful mask! Finally, I can go to a normal school without getting laughed at!"

Happily, he jumped onto my lap and told me with a beaming face:

"Thank you very much, Dad, for buying me my mask. You are the best Dad in the whole world!"

Happily, he puckered his masked lips for a big kiss... and suddenly froze. Looking shocked, he touched his masked lips with his fingers. Again, he froze, started to look frightened, but courageously touched his hidden lips again...

Now looking almost desperate, he whimpered:

"Dad, I cannot feel my lips any more! They feel as if my mouth is gone..."

Slowly, he turned towards Peter, with panic in his eyes... However, Peter only lifted my panicking boy off my lap, took him into his arms, and carried him back to the mirror. After he sat his little client down, he told him to have a good look at his masked face, especially at his covered lips beneath the flexible rubber...

Touching the rubber lips with his finger, Peter told my already recovering boy:

"Of course, your own lips are still there, but they are hidden behind the rubber. Getting used to wearing a rubber mask always takes some time, because your entire perception of feeling changes behind it. Within a few days, your mask will feel more natural, and I am sure you will soon learn to cope with its restrictions and limitations."

My boy looked a bit ashamed, while he again studied his face and mumbled:

"Yes, I see why I don't feel my lips any more. Sorry, Peter, for overreacting..."

Smilingly, Peter ruffled my boy's unruly blond hair while he responded:

"Well, you are not the first person who panics while wearing a rubber mask for the first time. Now and then, even grownups like your Dad start crying!"

My little imp started to chuckle at the 'funny' thought, while his built-in sun started to shine again. Quickly, he left the mirror, climbed back onto my lap, and offered me another big kiss. Fortunately, he didn't panic any more but just smiled at the strange feeling, while he settled down on my lap with a contented sigh and a happy face. Again, I felt surprised at seeing the flexibility of my boy's mask that moved along with his face and even showed his facial expressions!

After a moment of happy silence, Peter turned towards me and asked:

"Sir? Could I now ask you a private question?"

Feeling a bit surprised, I responded:

"Yes, of course. What do you have in mind?"

"Well, yesterday, I took the liberty to talk about your son's burns to a colleague, of course without mentioning any names. My colleague happens to know a brand new transplant clinic that specializes in severe burns; and, during the last few months, this modern clinic has achieved astonishing results with growing skin cultures and body-covering transplantations. The only disadvantage is that they are extremely expensive..."

As in a flash, I recalled what Jack had told me after I had my vivid dream:

'Spend everything you have on your son, and you will be royally rewarded.'

Plus, my boy's King of Ancestors had predicted:

'Your other questions will be answered within two days from now.'

Finally, I knew what I could do to help my boy get new skin on his so terribly burnt body and face! Of course, I would take my boy to that modern transplant clinic as soon as possible, whether it was extremely expensive or not. I would happily spend all of my money on my little soul mate, to help him get a much better life and a brand new face, and I absolutely didn't need to be 'royally rewarded'!

Nearly crying from sheer happiness, I responded:

"Thank you very much, Peter, for helping my son and mentioning that modern transplant clinic. Do you happen to have their address? I would want to contact them as soon as possible; and, of course, I will let you know about the results."

Smilingly, Peter handed me his business card with the clinic's address already written on it. He also took a cardboard box, and packed my boy's green model and two brown bottles into it. Tentatively, he handed the heavy package to my happy looking boy... who just took it from Peter without flinching and dragged the heavy box towards the door, where he put it down with a mumbled groan. Still huffing from the effort, he refused to let John help him carry it. This was HIS green model, and he wanted to carry it all by himself!

After putting Peter's business card with the clinic's address in my wallet, I paid Peter for his marvelous work, and again thanked him abundantly for what he had done for my boy. Everybody hugged; and my little soul mate even kissed Peter, without bothering any more about his covered lips. Again huffing and panting from the effort, he dragged his heavy cardboard box through the door and towards our car. Only reluctantly, he allowed John to help him lift it into the trunk. We buckled up, I started the engine, and we drove off, waving at a happy looking Peter until we disappeared around a corner.

Chapter 5. A new desk; our boy misses his attention.

Directed by John who sat shotgun, we left Peter's small town and drove to a huge mall in a much bigger town, where we hoped we could buy a new computer desk for my boy, with lots of drawers and a sliding shelf in the middle as I had promised. During the entire voyage, both John and I couldn't keep our eyes off our broadly smiling little Gypsy Prince! All the time, he sat glued to our car windows, looking outside with beaming eyes. Enthusiastically, he waved at every living soul we passed, trying to get at least some attention. Now and then, somebody waved back at him; and then, my happy looking boy reacted almost delirious!

Jumping up and down from sheer enthusiasm, he shouted:

"Dad and John, did you see that? That woman saw my new face, and she waved at me!"

With the help of John's invaluable guidance, we soon arrived at an enormous shopping center. Immediately after I had parked, little Harry jumped out and rounded our car towards the sidewalk. Excitedly, he started to look around, while again enthusiastically waving at every living soul who happened to look in our direction. Unfortunately, and very much to my boy's disappointment, nobody around us paid him any real attention. To any onlooker, he only was a small boy that felt happy to join his Dad and his bigger brother. Only now and then, somebody looked at him, smiled at the funny sight, and just resumed whatever they were doing. Nobody waved at my boy or complimented him with his beautiful new face. For the first time since two years, nobody stared at our so terribly burnt little Gypsy boy. Nobody looked shocked, and nobody laughed at him, shooed him away, or called him a 'freak' or an 'alien'.

Surprisingly, my boy seemed to miss all those curious looks and rude comments he had gotten used to during the past two years. After quite some time of looking around and trying to get at least some reaction from the busy people around us, he started to look a bit forlorn and disappointed. Again, he smiled and waved at an approaching woman, but she just turned around and walked away, without acknowledging my desperate boy. This time, he seemed to give up, lowered his head, and stared at his feet, while his enthusiastic smile faded away. Looking more and more forlorn, he sauntered towards John and me and put his small hand into mine. John took his other hand; and, walking together, we entered the enormous mall.

Inside the crowded shop, I first went to a security officer and asked where we could buy 'computer desks'. The man smiled professionally, while he pointed to the second floor with a signboard that told 'furniture department'. In the meantime, my little soul mate stared in obvious awe at the man's abundantly decorated uniform that was adorned with several shining insignia. Looking impressed, he tried to get the officer's attention by smiling, coughing, and even bumping into him. Only, the bored looking man didn't even notice our small boy, and just sauntered away towards the other side of the store. Looking disappointed, our little friend stopped his efforts and went to the ascending escalator. Closely followed by John and me, he stepped onto the moving stairs, while again looking around. Again, he smiled at every living soul he saw, while desperately trying to make eye contact or to get at least some positive reaction. Alas, again, nobody looked back at our smiling boy or took any notice.

Finally, after we reached the second floor, a sordid looking man smiled back at my boy! Stepping a bit closer, the man demonstratively brought his hand to his crotch and rubbed it... At that same moment, I heard a deep guttural growl coming from John next to me. Looking murderous, my young friend stomped towards the sordid looking man, with fire-shooting eyes and clenched fists, obviously ready to defend his innocent little brother with his own life if necessary! Chuckling inwardly, I thought that Christian turned out to be right, because John really acted 'a little bit short-tempered', as Christian called it. Of course, no sordid looking stranger would ever be able to harm his little brother here, in the relative safety of the crowded mall.

Only, we absolutely didn't need to feel wary, because my little soul mate had already put his new pug nose high into the air, while he switched on his powerful aura of Aristocracy and ignored the man completely! Quickly, I grabbed John's arm and pulled him back, because I didn't want us be in a fight. Fortunately, John relaxed immediately, while he unclenched his fists and smiled apologetically. Although my young friend really acted a bit reckless, he certainly cared quite a lot for his little brother! Now, my boy seemed to give up his futile efforts. He just lowered his head, left us, and sauntered towards a long row of nice looking computer desks. Walking from desk to desk, he started to study all the various items and try them out, one by one.

In the meantime, John pulled at my arm with a look of bewilderment, while he whispered:

"Dad? Why does Harry behave so strange? Isn't he happy with his new face?"

Looking at my confused young friend, I tried to explain:

"I think that Harry misses all the extra attention he always got. He was so used to all the surprised looks and stares; and, all of a sudden, now that he wears his rubber mask that hides his burns, nobody sees him any more."

Shaking his head in obvious disbelief, John stared at his little brother while he muttered:

"That is weird! Two long years Harry waited for this moment; and now he isn't happy?"

Still muttering under his breath, John stepped in front of me and leaned into my stomach; and I folded my arms around his firm waist and pulled him closer into my enveloping aura. Together, we waited until his little brother had studied and tried out all the various computer desks. One by one, my boy looked them over critically, opened all the cabinets, and tried out all the drawers.

Finally, he turned towards me and pointed to a nice looking dark wooden desk:

"This one, Dad! This is the desk I like most. Will you really buy it for me?"

Fortunately, my boy's built-in happy sun had started to shine again. His disappointed face had disappeared, he smiled broadly, and he seemed to feel elated with his perfect choice. Feeling relieved, John and I followed him to a shiny dark wooden desk with lots of drawers and cabinets; and, of course, a sliding keyboard shelf in the middle. Even to my own inexperienced eyes, this desk looked wonderful, and I thought my clever boy had made an excellent choice! Within a few seconds, a smiling sales clerk came up to us and politely asked if we had decided to buy something. Obviously, the man had a good eye for potential customers.

My happy looking boy smiled back at the sales clerk, while he pointed at his new desk and told the man:

"This is the computer desk my Dad wants to buy for me."

The even broader smiling clerk took his writing pad, wrote out a slip for the stockroom, and handed it to my proudly beaming boy. Then, he explained where we could collect the unassembled desk, in three separate packages we had to build together according to the enclosed instructions. In rank, we went downstairs and entered a stockroom at the backside of the mall. With a proud face, little Harry handed his slip to the receptionist, while looking at him expectantly... Only, the man just took the slip without looking at our little friend, and typed some data into a computer. I paid the store with my credit card, and we stepped back and waited.

A few minutes later, an electric transporter appeared from a sliding door, carrying three enormous packages. The dull looking driver unloaded them one by one, piled them on the floor, and disappeared through the same door without saying a word. Only, what should we do now? We would never be able to carry all three heavy packages to our car without help! Fortunately, my boys had already seen a couple of shopping carts, next to the entrance. Little Harry asked me for a coin, unlocked one of the carts, and wheeled it towards us.

Working together, we piled our three heavy packages onto the cart and drove everything to our car in the parking lot, while trying not to bump into one of the other vehicles. I unlocked our car, and John and I lifted the first heavy package from the cart and tried to push it into its opened trunk. Unfortunately, our huge package turned out to be too big to fit into the trunk of our small car! What should we do now? Again, we seemed to have a problem... Again, John came up with a clever solution. He trotted back to the mall and fetched a couple of ropes from the stockroom. Working together, we piled all three packages onto the groaning roof of our old car and tied them together with John's ropes. Little Harry wanted to wheel the empty cart back to the shop, while John and I waited until he returned.

Suddenly, an excellent idea popped up in my mind, and I asked my young friend:

"John? Now that you are living with us, what do you think about having your own desk in your own room?"

With a surprised face, John looked back at me, and showed me so much love in his deep brown eyes that my heart nearly melted! Obviously, my young friend didn't expect to be this welcome in his temporary home, because he would be with us only for a few weeks... At that moment, little Harry returned with the coin and handed it back to me. My little Shaman seemed to sense that something had happened, because he looked from John to me with a questioning face while he quickly paged through our thoughts...

Still looking unsure, John asked his little brother:

"Harry, what do you think? Dad wants to buy me my own desk in my own room at your house; but I will stay with you for only a few weeks, so I don't really need a desk..."

Suddenly looking up at me with very much love in his bright blue orbs, my little soul mate responded to John's hesitant question:

"Do you really want to know what I think? To be honest, I think you are afraid I will be jealous of you! But, I already have my rubber mask as a present, and I think that Dad has an excellent idea! Soon, you will need your own desk in your own room, because you will do most of your homework with us."

"Then, I will still have my room in your house after school starts? How can you be so sure?"

"Because Jack told me, and I only agree with him."

"Well, I really hope your clairvoyant abilities will be correct again, as they always are... Okay, Dad, Harry and Jack; this time, I will kindly yield to your combined peer pressure and humbly oblige."

At hearing John's funny dignified use of words, I started to bellow with laughter, while I playfully ruffled his curly brown hair. Again, I felt very blessed to have my two extremely clever and inventive young friends at my side! Walking hand in hand, little Harry in our middle, we returned to the mall and again headed for the furniture department. This time, John started to examine all the computer desks, while his little brother advised him about their pros and cons. Because my boy had seen them before, he knew exactly why he had chosen his own new desk. As could be expected, John decided on exactly the same dark wooden computer desk that his little brother had chosen. My boy had cleverly rebutted all of John's contra-arguments, and absolutely convinced him.

Looking at his little brother with even more respect, John told him:

"Wow, Harry, you have an astonishing technical insight and an outstanding eye for details! Thank you very much for your help and advice."

At that moment, the sales clerk recognized us, came up to us, and asked with a surprised voice:

"Do you want to exchange your desk for another one, or do you want a refund?"

Pointing at my proudly beaming 'oldest son', I explained:

"Actually, I want to buy a second computer desk for my oldest boy over here."

The broadly smiling clerk wrote another slip, handed it to John, and told my boys:

"Both you and your brother have a Dad to be proud of!"

Nodding vigorously, my boys told the clerk they absolutely agreed. After thanking him for his nice compliment, we returned downstairs and to the stockroom. Again, we piled three heavy packages onto a cart and wheeled them to our car. We untied the old ropes, added three new packages, and carefully tied all six of them together with even more ropes. Although our old car started to groan and creak from the too heavy load on its slightly sagging roof, it didn't collapse. Little Harry brought the cart back, returned, and handed me my coin. We entered our car, buckled up, and went home. Of course, because of the too heavy load on its more and more sagging roof, I tried to drive extremely slowly and carefully. Although our old car groaned and moaned at every turn, it still survived.

On our way home, we suddenly saw a small drive-in restaurant along the road, and I decided to stop for a rest and a drink. Carefully, I parked our groaning car into a tiny parking lot, where we first checked its sagging roof. Feeling reassured, my boys and I turned around and headed for the restaurant. Again, my little soul mate walked upfront, while looking around and smiling at every living soul he saw. This time, a couple of visitors noticed our broadly smiling boy, and a few of them even waved at him and smiled back at him!

My boy nearly started to dance with sudden happiness, while he exclaimed:

"Did you see that, Dad and John? Those ladies waved at me and smiled at my new face!"

Inside the restaurant, we found a free table along a window and sat down to wait for our drinks. Soon, a waitress approached us; and I ordered coffee for myself and colas for my boys. While we waited for our order, my little soul mate couldn't sit still for a second. All the time, he looked around while waving and smiling at every person who happened to look in our direction. Only, much to his disappointment, nobody reacted to his more and more desperate efforts to get at least some attention. At last, his frustrated face started to cloud and the usual sun in his eyes faded away. Slowly, he slumped down on his chair, produced a couple of heartfelt sighs, and started to pout; without sensing that John glared at his pouting little brother with angry looks...

Suddenly, John turned towards my pouting boy and hissed:

"Why are you behaving so selfish and unappreciative, instead of being thankful for your rubber mask? Do you really miss all the former attention? Then, peel your mask off your face and let everybody stare at your burns again!"

Demonstratively, John turned his back towards his little brother and started to stare out the windows, while my little soul mate stared at his angry big brother with a shocked face. A few times, my boy tried to formulate an answer, but he stopped just in time and only bit his tongue. Then, he started to stare at the floor, while wiggling his toes and slowly getting tears in his eyes. Demonstratively, he heaved a couple of very deep sighs, but John still didn't react... At last, he rose from his seat, ambled to the exit, and left the restaurant without looking back.

John tried to follow his little brother, but I stopped him and explained:

"No, John, you better let him go! You have used exactly the right words; and, now, your brother needs his personal space to think them over and gain some more insight. He will return when he is ready, okay? In the meantime, because he is only eight years old, we will keep a close eye on him, but from a distance."

Looking relieved, John nodded; and we moved our chairs around so that we had a better look outside. Our defeated little friend had already left the restaurant and crossed the terrace. Now, he slumped down at the edge of a small pond, with his back against a tree. From there, he stared at the hastily approaching ducks, who thought they could get some food. Now and then, he kicked a few pebbles to the ducks, who thought it was food and tried to catch them. Slowly, tears started to drip from his eyes onto his hands. Angrily, he wiped them away with a slip of his shirt. Then, he kicked the next few pebbles towards the hungry ducks, careful not to hit any of them. This time, his enveloping aura felt as if he desperately wanted to return to John and me, but wasn't sure how we would react...

After a long time of kicking pebbles towards the ducks, at last, my boy's defeated posture started to change. By reading his enveloping aura, I could clearly sense how my little Shaman shut off his unwanted emotions and forcefully increased his Inner Power. His always-happy aura showed up again, while his built-in sun restarted to shine. After quickly regaining his composure, my little Shaman kicked the last pebbles to the ducks, left the pond, and returned to the restaurant. Now, my initial doubts disappeared completely. Fortunately, John and I had done exactly the right thing by letting our boy have his own space.

Inside the restaurant, my boy returned to our table, retook his chair, and sat down. Hesitantly, he took his still waiting glass of cola and started to drink. Eagerly, he emptied the glass, until he burped and reacted a bit shocked. Without looking up, he put his emptied glass back onto the table. Still staring at the floor, he left his chair and silently crawled onto my lap, to be held and feel safe and loved...

Yes, this was exactly what I had been waiting for! Gently, I draped my arms around my boy's tiny frame and pulled him closer to my chest, without saying a word. As a psychotherapist, I was sure I had to let him decide for himself when and where to open up again... Within a minute, my boy forcefully pushed himself against my chest, hiccupped, and started to cry. Now, it was time for us to have an honest talk. Only, first, I worked my handkerchief out of my pocked and helped my sobbing boy dry his teary eyes and blow his runny nose, letting him keep my handkerchief in case he needed it again.

While kissing the top of his small head, I asked him:

"Do you understand now what John tried to make clear?"

Immediately, my boy nodded vigorously, while looking ashamed and trying to make himself invisible in my arms. A few seconds later, I again felt him perform his powerful Shaman magic of shutting down his disturbing emotions. Immediately, his heavy sobs disappeared, his bright blue eyes started to beam, and he became his joyful self again. Turning towards John, he first offered his big brother a shy smile.

Then, with a surprising maturity for such a small boy, his deep baritone voice confessed:

"I am very sorry, John, because I really was selfish and unappreciative. It sounds stupid, but you are right and I really missed all the extra attention! Wow, big brother, you saw straight through me..."

My boy slid off my lap, went to his big brother, and hopped onto his lap. Immediately, John folded his arms around his little brother and pulled him against his chest, looking happy again. For quite some time, my two boys sat together without uttering a word. Then, my little soul mate started to fidget, while explaining he had to pee 'terribly'. Hurriedly, he left John's lap, slid down onto the floor, and started looking for a bathroom... Immediately, his protective big brother followed him. While they disappeared around a corner, I called our waitress and paid for our drinks with my credit card.

Soon, both boys returned to our table, with beaming eyes but still wet faces. Chuckling, little Harry handed me my now dripping wet handkerchief. Although I tried to look angry, I didn't seem to perform well. Mock-angrily, I took the wet thing and tried to slap my little imp with it. Only, he dived away and quickly hid behind John, who caught all the trickles. Frolicking and teasing each other as usual, we returned to our car, where I first spread my wet handkerchief out onto the dashboard to let it dry in the sunlight. Then, we buckled up, I started the engine, and we drove home, although very slowly and carefully, because of the too heavy load on the still groaning and creaking roof of our old car.

A few seconds later, a tiny baritone voice behind me told me:

"Sorry, Dad, for having been such a nuisance..."

Two small arms folded around my neck, while two tiny hands clamped together around my throat, to prevent their little owner from falling backwards into our loudly groaning and only very slowly accelerating car.

Getting tears in my eyes from my powerful feelings of Pure Love, I patted my boy's small arms while I responded:

"Why do you suppose you could be a nuisance? You only had a clarifying insight and learned a valuable lesson; and I am sure that, from now on, you will never make the same mistake again! I still love you very much; and I am proud of you and of the mature way you handled your argument with John."

"Really? Thank you, Dad, for again making me feel better; and I love you very, very, very much!"

My little soul mate was back on earth. We had our beaming boy back. He even seemed to have grown a bit taller today, as if he sat more upright and looked around with more pride in his sparkling eyes and less dependency in his boyish demeanor.

Again, my boy leaned into me from behind and asked:

"Dad? When are we going to Peter's face clinic? I want to have my real face back as soon as possible! My rubber mask starts itching now, and its sticky inside feels warm and sweaty as if Peter has used too much of that brown stuff. As soon as we get home, I will first splash my itchy face with buckets of water!"

Then, John tapped my shoulder from behind, and asked:

"Dad? What shall we do about Harry's next hospital appointment? In a few days, he has to go back for his next surgery, because his doctors want to give him a better nose and artificial lips, next to loosen his too taut skin..."

"Well; let's phone Peter's 'face clinic' first and ask for their advice, before we decide..."

"Okay."

Chapter 6. Heavy packages and a helpful new friend.

Soon, our own street showed up, and both John and little Harry unfastened their safety belts in advance. Still driving slowly and very carefully, I backed our loudly groaning car into our driveway, where I switched its engine off. For a few seconds, I enjoyed the sudden silence and the fact that our old vehicle had survived its too heavy load on its roof without collapsing

In the meantime, my little soul mate tried to scratch behind his mask, while he moaned:

"My sticky mask is really itching now..."

Suddenly, he snatched my keys out of my hand, left our car in a hurry, raced to our front door, unlocked it at lightning speed, and bolted inside. John and I chuckled at his sudden hurry, while we followed him inside. In our kitchen, we heard him moaning while desperately trying to get rid of his itchy mask...

The moment my boy saw me, he raced up to me and asked me, almost crying:

"Dad, could you please help me? My mask is too sticky, and I'm afraid to tear its edges..."

Very carefully, I helped my fidgeting boy peel the too sticky mask off his face. With a loud groan of relief, he jumped towards the water tap and put his entire head under the cold water stream.

Spluttering and gasping, he splashed his itching face with even more water, while murmuring:

"Nnnggg... That feels better!"

Within a minute, he showed up again, looking relieved now that his face didn't itch any more. Happily, he first dried his hands and his face with our kitchen towel. Then, he filled a bowl with warm water, added some liquid soap, and painstakingly cleaned his rubber mask with a soft brush. In the meantime, John had fetched my boy's cardboard box and my dried handkerchief out of our car. Helpfully, he took his little brother's greenish model and two brown bottles out of its box and put them onto the kitchen table; while my boy took our kitchen towel and dabbed his spotlessly cleaned mask until it was dry. With a thankful look at John, he draped his cleaned mask around his green model to keep its shape, as Peter had told him he should do every time. Then, with a proud face, he carried his masked model to our living room and put it onto a corner of our dresser, in plain sight.

Looking at his masked green model, he suddenly chuckled:

"Look, this is ME, the freshly cleaned 'green alien'!"

John looked from the mask to his little brother, and laughed:

"That sounds like the catchy title of some creepy film."

After we returned to our kitchen, I first brewed a nicely smelling and heavenly tasting cup of real coffee, while my boys fetched colas and robbed our refilled cookie jar. Then, sitting together on our couch, we smiled at each other, feeling very happy and totally content in each other's 'pleasant company'. After finishing our drinks and eating some more cookies, we decided to relieve our old car from its way too heavy cargo. Together, we trotted outside and went to work. First, John and I untied the ropes, while little Harry helpfully gathered them and bundled them up. Now, John and I took the first heavy package, lifted it off the roof, and carried it towards our porch. From here, we only had to transport it inside and upstairs to my boy's room...

Already huffing and panting with the effort, we first turned the heavy package vertical, to be able to drag it up the porch steps, while my little soul mate gave us directions and told us not to stumble. Directed by our little commander, we carried the package inside and put it down against a wall, to have a better look at how we should proceed from here. How could we best drag our heavy package upstairs, without stumbling and falling down the steps? After some deliberating, we decided in unison that John and little Harry would take one short side of our package, and I would take the other short side. Both boys would drag it upstairs first and steer the heavy package around the corner, while I would push it up from beneath by using both hands...

Lifting our heavy package from the floor turned out to be the easiest part. Groaning with the effort, my boys heaved one side up the first few steps. At the same time, I tried to handle its other side, by using all my muscle strength to push our heavy package up. Slowly and step by step, we lugged and pushed the unmanageable thing upstairs; struggling and panting with the effort, while trying to keep our vulnerable hands and knuckles free from the rugged walls... Halfway up the stairs, we had to round the corner; but our too heavy package jammed against a wall and nearly slipped out of our hands! Fortunately, we were able to rescue it and keep it stable, just before it tumbled all the way down and we had to lug it upstairs again. Only, what should we do now? Our heavy package had four corners, and each of us could only handle one of its corners properly. We badly needed a fourth person to help us drag it upstairs all the way! Only, where could we find such a helpful fourth person? We absolutely didn't want to ask Eric for help...

After trying to gather even more courage, we restarted our combined efforts. This time, I just put my shoulders under the package and pushed it upstairs with all of my might, while my boys steered it around the corner and dragged it up the last steps. Groaning and panting with the immense effort, we finally arrived on the second floor, where we put the package upright against a wall. Being totally out of breath, we just slumped down onto the carpet. Still huffing and panting, we looked at each other and shook our heads. No way, could we drag all five remaining packages upstairs like this. We really needed a fourth person to help us!

After we recovered somewhat and slowly got our breaths back, John cleverly suggested:

"Shall I ask Thomas for help? Or maybe Thomas' father, if he happens to be home?"

"That sounds like an excellent idea! Only, let's drink some refreshing water first..."

Still sweating and feeling tired, we ambled downstairs and entered our kitchen, where both boys quickly put their heated faces under the cold water stream. After teasingly splashing each other with even more water, they tried to dry each other with our already wet kitchen towel, by wringing it out a few times. Next, John took three glasses from a cupboard, and little Harry filled them to the brim with fresh cold water. Each of us took a glass of water to our porch, careful not to spill its contents. We sat down, still feeling sweaty all over and wiping the excessive perspiration from our foreheads...

Suddenly, we heard the unmistakable sound of a skateboard that approached our house at high speed. A second later, a young boy of about John's age showed up in front of our house, while curiously staring at our porch. When he saw us sipping our water, he smiled and brought his board to a screeching halt. Still smiling at John and at my little soul mate, he clamped his skateboard under his arm, opened our braided iron gate, entered our driveway, and came up to us.

Pointing at the five remaining packages on the roof of our car, the boy asked:

"Do you need a helping hand?"

Without waiting for an answer, he put his skateboard against a wall, climbed the few steps to our porch, and sat down next to John and little Harry. John nodded at the boy, went to our kitchen, returned with another glass of water, and offered it to him. The boy took the glass from John, smiled gratefully, and we continued to sip our drinks in silence... Casually, I looked at the new boy who obviously felt at ease in my boys' presence. He seemed to be a nice boy, with an open and curious face and dark brown eyes that showed a lot of intelligence. He was firmly built and muscular, showed a nice suntan, had short dark brown hair, and I estimated him to be around thirteen years old. The only strange thing was that he seemed to avoid my eyes! Yet, he already seemed to know my boys, because he didn't look surprised at seeing little Harry's badly burnt face. Therefore, I thought he could be the 'new friend' my boy had told me about, who had taught him to do a difficult double flip on his skateboard. Only, why would this boy avoid looking at me?

After drinking our water, John put his empty glass down and suggested:

"Let's carry our remaining packages upstairs. With four of us, it should be a piece of cake!"

Together, we rose to our feet and went to our car. John and little Harry went to one side of the next package, while I went to its other side and waited for our new helper to join me. Only, much to my surprise, the new boy seemed to hesitate, while looking at me as if he could be afraid of me... Then, he turned around and quickly stepped towards John and little Harry! My little soul mate looked a bit surprised; but he just shrugged, left his place to the newcomer, and went to my side. I supposed the new boy was afraid of me because he had never seen me before. Or, he didn't want to help a bearded 'ancient grandpa'...

Soon, we had carried all five remaining packages upstairs without any problems. With the help of our new boy, carrying them upstairs really was a piece of cake. In no time, we had piled the first three packages in John's room and the next three ones in little Harry's room. Only, all the time, the new boy just returned to John's side to help carrying the next package; which left my little soul mate no other choice than helping at my side. Of course, we didn't mind; but I had a strange feeling that the new boy really tried to avoid me. Yet, he didn't seem to be overly timid or mistrustful. He just never looked into my eyes and always went to his friends. What could be his problem? Could this boy really be afraid of a 'bearded grandpa'? Only, why should he be? For as far as I knew, he didn't even know me! Still feeling tired from the unusual work, I thought about lying down on my double waterbed to take a short rest...

My little Shaman seemed to pick up my thoughts, because he suggested:

"Let's go to Dad's double bed and take a short rest!"

Nodding his agreement, John followed his little brother into my bedroom. Being good boys, they first shucked their shoes and kicked them into a corner. Then, they slumped down on my double bed, while demonstratively heaving exaggerated sighs of tiredness. In the meantime, the new boy had already started to follow his friends towards my bedroom. Suddenly, he stopped and seemed to hesitate in the doorway. Slowly, he turned his head, and stared at me with a lot of fear in his dark brown eyes! For a second, I thought he could have felt my grownup aura, because I had followed him at a short distance. Only, why would this boy be afraid of me? This was very strange! Yet, I still wanted to lie down on my double waterbed and take my own much needed rest...

While ruffling the new boy's dark brown hair, I told him:

"Come on, just go inside and join your friends! After working this hard, you too have earned your rest."

For a split second, the boy's dark brown eyes pierced straight into mine... and I felt severely shocked into my deepest core. Seldom had I sensed so much pain and so much desperation in such a young child! What, for heaven's sake, could have happened to this desperate child, to feel frightened like this? This was an extremely wounded boy! Who, or what, could have damaged this kid so much? And, as a trained psychotherapist, would I ever be able to help this frightened boy get rid of his strange fears? Although he quickly ducked his head from under my ruffling hand, he also seemed to feel relieved. Without any more hesitation, he stepped inside, kicked his shoes into a corner, ran towards his friends, and threw himself upon the wobbling bed.

"Wow, you have a WATER bed!" he exclaimed, immediately starting to jump up and down.

"Look out, before you punch a hole in the water and the bed leaks!" little Harry tried to use my little joke on him.

For a split second, the new boy stopped jumping and seemed to hesitate... Then, he started to laugh and again jumped up and down as high as he could, while trying to touch the ceiling over his head.

Still laughing and jumping up and down, he told his little friend:

"I bet this waterbed can carry at least an elephant without leaking!"

"You are wrong, because Dad told me our waterbed can easily carry TWO elephants!"

Teasingly, my little soul mate dived towards the new boy's legs, to let him stumble and fall down against John. The boy immediately turned around and attacked little Harry. With a broad smile on his beaming face, he straddled my teasing little soul mate. Of course, John tried to free his little brother, by pulling the new boy away and pushing him towards the other side of the bed. Now, all three boys started to push and tickle each other, laughing, shouting, and having lots of fun... While looking at their antics, I very much enjoyed the happy sight of three playing boys having so much fun. Even the new boy seemed to enjoy himself immensely, this time without showing any more fears whatsoever. I really hoped he would soon leave his strange fears behind! Why would any child ever be afraid of ME? After jumping high, wrestling around on the wobbling waterbed, and tickling and teasing each other, my happy threesome finally calmed down and slumped down next to each other, with sweaty faces, still laughing while heaving and panting.

Now, John beckoned me over, already making more room for me:

"Come on, Dad, you need your rest too! Here is enough room for all of us..."

Well, I really felt a bit tired, after all our lugging and walking up and down the stairs. Therefore, I just did as John told me. After unlacing my shoes and putting them under a chair, I went to my double waterbed and slumped down next to John. As usual, both John and little Harry crawled onto my stomach, while playfully pushing each other and competing for the best place. Again feeling very happy and full of love, I folded my arms around my two boys, kissed the tops of their heads, and held them even closer to my chest. Loving and cuddling my boys still counted as the most wonderful feeling in my universe. I loved both boys with all my heart, and nothing would ever be able to change that!

Suddenly, I heard a faint sobbing sound, coming from next to me. Feeling surprised, I turned around and looked at where the sobs came from... Then, I saw the new boy, staring at my cuddling boys and me with bulging eyes! He seemed to hold his breath, while his face turned deep red and tears dripped from his dark brown eyes. Desperately, he tried to suppress his sobs, while he stared at my happily cuddling boys on my stomach with an enormous amount of pain in his eyes. This time, I saw not only the boy's fears, but also a deep longing... This boy seemed to be a very lonely boy, who obviously wasn't used to a grownup cuddling with his kids! Didn't he have his own father to romp and cuddle with? That would be truly sad! Although I felt very sorry for the boy, I also felt too tired to really listen to my own feelings. For a second, I closed my eyes and tried to take some rest, but I immediately drifted off into a deep slumber. Vaguely, I heard both John and my little soul mate argue with the new boy, but I didn't understand any more what they were talking about...

Half an hour later, I woke up with the joyful sounds of three happily laughing and shouting kids who were having lots of fun in our shower room, as if trying to outdo each other in making even more noise. Could John have rebuilt his cleverly constructed plastic cup fort, and was he again defending it with his own life? Or, had my inventive young friend constructed some even more effective kind of water gun? Feeling curious, I left my bed to take a look at what my three boys were doing. I also wanted to know what they had done with our hopefully still dry towels. Therefore, I went to our noisy shower room and opened its door...

This time, I was greeted by an absolutely spectacular sight! John had cleverly built another brainy construction; this time consisting of a plastic tube with an attached air balloon. The new boy had a similar device in his hands, happily pointing it at little Harry's fort of plastic cups. He sat next to John on the shower floor, cross-legged, with beaming eyes. Taking turns, he and John pushed a cork into the plastic tube, and forcefully squeezed the air balloon. With a loud plop, the cork left the tube and headed for my boy's plastic cups fort. Inevitably, the cork blew the next cup away, causing little Harry to leap after it with a loud shout and a desperate face while he tried to defend John's rebuilt fort with his own life, now and then groaning loudly. Desperately, he jumped up and down, while trying to rescue the plastic cups that flew through the air and landed at his feet... Suddenly, my boy saw me, standing in the doorway and enjoying the funny sight. A huge smile appeared on his beaming face, while his bright blue eyes started to sparkle with joy.

Immediately urging me to come over and help him, he shouted:

"Please, Dad, help me defend John's fort before it falls apart!"

At hearing my boy's deep baritone voice, the new boy looked up from his game. When he saw me standing in the doorway; at the same moment, all the blood left his heated face. Suddenly paling, he curled up into a tight ball and cringed into a corner of our shower stall, as if he wanted to disappear completely. When that didn't help, he jumped upright, now looking frightened and trembling with fear. His eyes darted around the shower room like some trapped animal that desperately searched for an escape but couldn't find any... What the heck could be the problem with this suddenly panicking boy; and why would he be afraid of ME? Didn't he want me to see him naked, although he also didn't try to cover himself? In the meantime, John stopped his attacks and stared at the boy with curious eyes; while my little soul mate inquisitively looked at his new friend, as if trying to understand the boy's suddenly frightened thoughts.

"What’s up, Davy?" he asked the new boy, with very much concern in his eyes.

Unexpectedly, the new boy jumped up and escaped out of our shower stall. With a desperate face, he raced to the door, on his way snatching his clothes from our chest of drawers. Forcefully, he threw himself past me, pushing me into a doorpost in his sudden hurry to get away. He bolted into the hallway and let himself tumble down the stairs, on the way risking breaking his neck. Downstairs, our front door slammed shut with a loud bang, and the new boy was gone!

The sudden silence felt eerie, while my young friends and I stared at each other with bewildered faces. For heaven's sake, what could have happened? Why did our new friend suddenly run away like this? Could I have done anything wrong, maybe without realizing what I did? Two very distressed looking boys silently dried each other, this time without their normal happy teasing and bantering. After they gathered and put on their clothes, they followed me downstairs. In our living room, we slumped down on our couch, still looking at each other with questioning faces. What the heck could have happened that made the new boy feel frightened and flee from our house like this?

Shaking his head as if denying his thoughts, John mused aloud:

"I don't know why that is, Dad, but Davy seems to be afraid of you! At first, he didn't want to join us in our shower, although he was just as sweaty and stinky as we were. At last, he hesitantly followed us, but only after we convinced him you wouldn't wake up for at least an hour. Although we asked him why he had tried to avoid you all the time, he just refused to tell us anything... At last, he started to feel more at ease and really got into our play, until you showed up in the doorway and he suddenly freaked out and ran away."

Feeling more and more uneasy, I hesitantly asked:

"This is really strange. Why the heck would Davy be afraid of ME?"

Again shaking his head, and with a nervous chuckle, John responded:

"I think Davy has to be crazy, because no normal child in the world can ever be afraid of YOU! Come on, Harry; let's go to Davy's house and ask him why he suddenly ran away from us without putting his clothes on first..."

My little soul mate nodded his agreement, and he and John quickly put on their shoes. With their arms around each other as usual, they left me and took off to Davy's house. In his sudden hurry, my little soul mate even forgot to put on his new mask...

Chapter 7. Befriending a badly traumatized new boy.

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Although these six chapters were only a short introduction to get acquainted with our beautiful stories, they are NOT the end of our ongoing adventures! To read on, please BUY this book, by clicking on one of the following links:

To buy the e-book for only $ 2.99, please click on this link.

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In the THIRD book of our 'Gypsy Series', which is called 'a Man loves a Boy -3- our quickly growing flock', my little soul mate gets lost in a huge zoo because he is too curious and 'curiosity kills the cat'. Another small boy shows up, 'Nicky', and immediately becomes little Harry's best friend. We buy a bigger car and a swimming pool, and my four boys design a tree house. Two detached soul mates are brought together, to love each other for the remainder of their lives. Nicky's father, BJ, has cancer; but my little soul mate persuades him to live for his two sons, and he prevails.

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In the meantime, my little soul mate has started writing his OWN 'Gypsy Series' of books, about his growing up as a little Gypsy Crown Prince until he meets me! In the first book of his OWN series, which is called 'a Boy loves a Man -1- Gypsy Heir to the Throne', our little Prince grows up in a secluded site in the Rumanian mountains, surrounded by steep ravines and dangerous forests. He is a 'wise old soul', an upcoming Shaman, and way too intelligent for his own good. His Inner Wisdom already knows he has to fulfill a very Important Task on Earth, assisted by all his Cosmic Friends, Beloved Ancestors, and Spirit Guides; but his too witty brain is always in the way and confusing him with its many questions and annoying 'buts' and 'ifs'...

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Please visit our Internet site http://www.gypsyseries.com to stay informed about our newest 'Gypsy Series' books; and please send us a stimulating email... I am a retired Dutch psychotherapist, living in The Netherlands, and still writing many powerful 'books with a message'. May our Supreme Being always be with you, bless you, and give you lots of Love and Happiness in your life!

Aad Aandacht, retired Dutch psychotherapist and writer.