Date: Mon, 8 Aug 2005 14:04:05 +0200
From: Harry Anders <harry@harryanders.com>
Subject: Little Harry-7

'Little Harry'
Chapter 7. A talk with John, and little Harry gets his mask.

John and little Harry went outside to have fun with their skateboards, and
I tried to install my computer on the new writing desk in the living
room. All lights of the cable modem were burning and I double-checked all
connections, but I couldn't establish a working Internet connection. After
a lot of trying I desperately phoned the company, where a nice helpdesk
operator patiently guided me through a new setup. Suddenly the homepages
appeared and a lot of emails streamed in, mostly junk. I thanked the nice
guy for his help and started to sort all emails out. Spam, spam, spam, and
one email from my eldest daughter congratulating me with my new home. I
wrote her an email back with some details, and invited her to visit me some
time.

I surfed to a popular search engine, and soon I was looking at pictures of
burn injuries, skin graft operations and all sorts of bandages. I was
overwhelmed by the amount of burn treatment information available on the
Internet. I discovered there seemed to be three degrees of burnings; the
first degree only caused blisters, the second degree caused loss of skin,
and the third degree caused dead flesh and deep wounds. After looking at
the pictures I suspected little Harry had suffered a lot of third degree
burns, just like my little brother Joshie had when he burned himself. Some
of Joshie's flesh and muscle were destroyed, and skin had to be grafted
from other parts of his body to repair the open wounds. It had been a very
lengthy and painful procedure and recovery.

A few sites hinted at the possibility of transplantations, but I looked in
vain for any more information about it.

After a while I typed 'adoption' into the search engine, and in seconds a
list of sights with adoption information appeared on my computer
screen. Soon two things became clear: it would be very difficult to adopt
little Harry because I was a single parent; and it would be nearly
impossible to adopt him because I was too old. Guardianship was only
granted when both parents or relatives yielded their consent. But what
happened when a boy didn't have any known relatives? Nobody answered that
question...

The door opened, and two happy boys stumbled into the living room with
flushed and sweaty faces.

"When are we going to eat dad?"

"Going to eat? Again? So soon?"

"We are still growing boys you know..."

I looked at the clock and nodded. I had no idea that I had been looking at
those Internet sites for more than three hours! We went to the kitchen
where I buttered some slices of bread, while Harry boiled a couple of eggs,
and John sliced some lettuce and herbs. Simple sandwiches this time, but
again very tasteful. We ended the meal with each a big orange and a cup of
tea. After a while Thomas yelled from the doorway, both boys swiftly hugged
me and disappeared again.

I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting behind my computer, looking for a
solution that would allow me to legally become little Harry's father. The
only way to accomplish this seemed to be: to marry a wife a lot younger
than myself and then adopt little Harry... but that wasn't really to my
liking. Why was it so difficult to adopt a small boy? Wasn't there any
other way? I kept on searching, and now and then stumbled upon a success
story, so it seemed to be possible at least sometimes.

The door opened, and three happy boys stumbled into the living room with
flushed and sweaty faces.

"Can Thomas eat with us dad? His parents aren't home, and his sister is
with her friend..."

"Of course Thomas may eat with us! But first you will have to wash your
face and your hands!"

"Can we have a shower first?"

"Of course you can. Do you know where the clean towels are?"

They disappeared upstairs, giggling and pushing each other.

Twenty minutes later I went upstairs to see what they were doing. John had
built a fort of plastic cups and paperclips and was defending it with his
life. Thomas and little Harry were trying to blow it down with a water gun
they cleverly fabricated with a balloon and a couple of drinking
straws. They detected me in the door opening, and immediately pointed their
water gun at me. A moment later I was totally drenched, and the rascals
bellowed with laughter!

I retreated, but returned with a bucket of ice-cold water. Now I had my
turn to bellow with laughter. Sweet revenge!

I went to my bedroom and changed out of my wet clothes, followed by three
soaked naked boys.

"Do you have any more dry towels dad? They are all wet..."

Good heavens... is this what a household with growing boys is like? The
three rascals had to share the only dry towel I could find, and they
promised me to better their lives and not make such a mess the next time
they played in the shower. I made a mental note to purchase an extra couple
of towels. What would be the next surprise? Out of water?

"Can we have pizza's tonight dad? We all love them, but not those with
salty anchovy fishes."

We ordered pizza's and the boys impatiently waited for the delivery man to
ring the doorbell. It was a wonder he didn't lose his fingers in between
their grabbing hands! They seemed to be starved again. Soon even the table
was licked clean, and the boys rushed out of the door with their
inseparable skateboards under their arms.

I restarted my Internet search and suddenly I found a small country where
adoption was nearly always granted. The only requirement was that I had to
be an inhabitant for at least three months. Well, that didn't seem to be an
insurmountable problem! I decided to contact a lawyer to ask his advice,
and made a couple of notes about addresses and fax numbers. Perhaps this
could offer us a solution?

At nine o'clock Thomas went to his parents and my boys entered the living
room, tired but happy. They enthusiastically told me all about their new
adventures with a nice thirteen year old boy, who lived a couple of streets
away and had never met little Harry before. At first he was very timid and
furtively stared at Harry's burnt face, but eventually he taught Harry how
to do a double curve on his skateboard, and after that the ice was
broken. They sat down for a rest, and he cautiously started to ask
questions. Little Harry told him everything about the fire, his operations,
and his new mask. The new boy got tears in his eyes and they both felt they
had found a new friend.

"I never knew that it would be so easy to make new friends dad, even when
you have a freaky face!"

"That's because now you are really proud of yourself," John explained with
a big grin on his face and love in his eyes.

"Come on, let's look what's on TV..."

I went back to the Internet and found another homepage with information
about adoptions. After a while two boys comfortably leaned against my back,
and looked over my shoulders at what I was doing. Little Harry threw his
arms around my neck.

"You are really going to ADOPT me dad?"

"Well... I was looking at the possibilities, but it will not be that easy."

"Please dad, adopt me! I want to be your REAL son..."

Suddenly John leaned forward and looked at me with craving eyes.

"Can you adopt me too dad? I want to be your real son too!"

"That will be very difficult John, for you already have a real dad."

"I NEVER had a real dad!" John answered, with a lot of venom in his voice.

"That man never was my father. I never knew how a real dad could be, until
I met Jack two years ago. Jack let me feel what a real father is. He
accepted me, he listened to me, he taught me things, he teased me, and he
comforted me. HE was my real dad. Jack is dead, so now I don't have a dad
any more. Now you can adopt me, for I am FREE! I want YOU to be my
father..."

I smiled at him and John melted into me, while little Harry crawled onto my
lap on my other side.

"I want John to be my real brother..."

Bedtime neared, so I threw a couple of soaked wet towels in the
dryer. After they were somewhat dried we went upstairs to take a shower.

"May I sleep with you in your waterbed tonight?" John asked me, throwing
his arms around me.

"Yes dad, our bed is big enough for all three of us and we never will tell
anybody!" Harry pleaded.

"Well.... ok, if you really want..." I answered with some hesitancy. How
would Eric react when he ever heard about this?

"Yippee! You are the best dad in the whole world!"

The shower was fun. John's plastic cup fort was still intact, and again he
defended it with his life. At last little Harry and I worked together, we
blew a breach into the wall and the pile suddenly collapsed with plastic
cups and paperclips scattering everywhere. We cheered, high-fived, and I
felt like a little boy again. We tidied the mess a bit, dried each other's
back, and went to bed.

Little Harry nestled against my left side with his arm around my chest,
closed his eyes and was deep asleep within a minute. John nestled against
my right side, threw his arm around my waist and put his head on my
shoulder. I could feel his little joystick poking into my side.

"Harry? Err... I mean, dad?"

"Yes son?"

"I like that, you calling me son. I wish I could be your son for real!"

"I can't promise you anything, but I will give it a try. Ok?"

"Yes please! And... can I... may I ask you another question?"

"Of course! You can always ask me anything."

"Do you... I mean, when you were a boy, did you... you know, get a stiffy
and play with it, perhaps sometimes?"

I could feel him stir and hold his breath.

"Yes John, when I was at the start of puberty, like you are now, I played
with myself all the time."

He breathed out with a hissing sound and I could feel him relax.

"Thomas' father told him it's a sin to play with your stiffy, and God will
punish you for it with AIDS..."

"Good Lord! No John, the God they are talking about has created you just
like you are, and the Bible tells us he saw it was GOOD. He created sex to
have FUN, to enjoy the feelings, and AIDS has nothing to do with that. You
are allowed to play with yourself every time it's making you feel good, and
please never listen to people who are trying to make you a sinner because
of it."

"But... when you... I mean, are like... err... playing with someone else?"

"It's the same. Enjoy the feelings, have fun with each other, with only one
restriction: it has to be mutual. Never abuse anyone else or push another
person to do things he or she doesn't want to do, and you will be fine."

"Thank you dad. You lifted a burden off my shoulders!"

"You are welcome son."

Slowly John turned onto his back and nestled himself along my side,
obviously playing with himself. After a while his breathing went faster.

"Dad? Did you ever do it? I mean, play with another boy's stiffy when you
were thirteen years old?"

"Yes John, when I was about your age I played with a friend in a barn
behind our school and he played with me. It was a wonderful feeling and we
both enjoyed it."

"When I tell you a secret, will you promise me to never tell it to anyone
else?"

"Don't you trust me John?"

"Sorry dad... of course I trust you. But I am a bit ashamed to tell
you... Thomas and me, when we slept together a few months ago, well, we
compared our things and we both got a stiffy. That's when Thomas told me
about his father's warnings. We felt each others balls and played with each
others things, and suddenly we both got a marvelous feeling, like shaking
all over your body. After that we played many more times with each other,
and I started to play with myself a lot. Every time it feels really good,
and I can't imagine God would punish you for something that's feeling so
wonderful..."

"Every boy plays with himself. Some boys start at a very young age, others
start later, but in puberty every boy does it. And it IS a wonderful
feeling."

John sighed and I could feel him think.

"Dad? Are you still playing with yourself? I mean, sometimes, perhaps?"

"Yes John, only my sex-drive has diminished a lot, due to my age. In
puberty and thereafter most boys do it at least once a day or more, but at
the age of sixty-five I am restricted to about once in two weeks. And still
it's a wonderful feeling!"

He crawled onto my stomach and melted into me, softly trembling.

"Dad, will you play with my stiffy please?"

I took him into my arms and tenderly caressed his back.

"You know son, we live in a world that doesn't approve of men doing sexual
things to boys. When I play with you, they will send me to prison for
abusing you, even when you want it yourself and you are asking me for
it. That's how the law is..."

"I know dad, they told us about it in school and I read about it on the
Internet. You could get into a lot of trouble. But nobody has to know! I
will never tell our private things to anybody else. I promise, cross my
heart and hope to die! You really can trust me."

"I know son, I know..."


The next morning I woke up with two beaming boys on my stomach, grinning
and fighting for the best place.

"Hi sleepyhead," Harry teased me, "I thought you would never wake up!"

"Hi dad," John straddled me and kissed me full on the lips, "I love you!"

I threw my arms around my boys and felt on cloud nine.

After a while and a lot of cuddling we dressed and went downstairs. John
seemed to have a need to touch me whenever he could. At the table slicing
the tomatoes he sat as close to me as possible, and ever so often he bumped
into me or leaned against me. When the tomatoes were ready he threw his
arms around me and melted into me, until I asked him to get the plates and
the rest of the cutlery. Reluctant he let go and headed for the
cupboard. In no time he was back, and again he leaned into me with his head
against my shoulder. What was the problem? Did he have something on his
mind? Or was he glad to see me and to show me his love? I ruffled his hair
and he looked up to me with... did I see relief in his eyes? I was not
sure, but decided to wait and see.

We ate in silence. Harry positioned himself at the other side of the table,
softly humming and now and then looking at us with some curiosity. John
shove his chair as near as possible to my chair and leaned against me with
his shoulder touching my shoulder. I put my arm around him and he let
himself completely go with what sounded like a sigh of relief? Or was he
just very cuddly?

We all took a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and the boys cleared
the table while I brewed a cup of coffee. We had a few minutes left so I
settled down on the couch, with Harry softly humming on one side and John
again trying to melt into me on my other side.

"Dad?" John suddenly asked me with a look of anguish in his eyes, "Are you
very mad at me?"

"What?" I responded with amazement and turned around to face him, "Why
would you think so? What's the trouble with you?"

"Well... tonight you told me that playing with each other's stiffy always
should be mutual, and that you never should push another person. But I
didn't really listen, and then I tried to push you to do things with me..."

He desperately looked up to me with tears in his eyes and holding his
breath.

I was really flabbergasted. This was the last thing I expected... Again I
felt the enormous responsibility I had for my boys. I, the grown up, had to
be very careful with the vulnerability of early adolescence!

"No John, you did exactly the right thing. You asked me, didn't you? You
didn't force me and you didn't push me. And mutual only means that you have
reached an agreement, and nothing else! Do you understand what I mean?"

He let his breath go and slowly the light returned in his eyes.

"Yes dad, thank you. I know you are right, and I love you so deeply... but
this morning I started to think it over. I was so afraid you would be
disappointed in me..."

He started to sob and I took him onto my lap. Two seconds later little
Harry was at his other side, tenderly comforting him.

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

John cried his heart out, and this time he really let go of all of his
sorrows and disappointments about his father, Eric, about his real father,
Jack, about his little friend, Harry, about the fact that he was the eldest
child in the family, and he was always blamed for everything that ever went
wrong. He mumbled and sobbed, and sometimes we barely could understand him,
but he told us everything he had bottled up in his mind.

After a while his sobs lessened and slowly he returned into reality. Little
Harry got him a packet of Kleenex and a glass of water, and carefully dried
his eyes for him. John suddenly grinned at little Harry and me, and the sun
inside him started to shine again.

"I am such a baby..."

"We will buy you some pampers..."

"You better buy me some extra Kleenex..."

I tickled his ribs and now the sun completely broke through. He squealed
and tried to tickle me back, immediately helped by little Harry. Soon both
boys working together was too much for me, and I fell off my chair,
panting.

"Stop boys, I am nearly wetting my pants..."

"We will buy you some pampers!"


In a sudden hurry we rushed to the car and drove off to Peter's shop. Harry
and John shared the backseat, while I searched the radio for some sweet
music.

"Did you and dad really do the same things you and Thomas did together?"
Harry suddenly asked.

"How the hell do YOU know about Thomas and me..." John answered with
astonishment in his voice.

"You always keep telling me that I am very good at spying..."

"Yes, but you were sound asleep, and we tried not to make too much noise."

"You TRIED... but Thomas was giggling like crazy, and you sounded like a
wounded elephant!"

"Oh... well... sorry we woke you up!"

"No need for sorry, I enjoyed the show. But did you and dad..."

"Nah, that's private. But dad explained a couple of things to me. Did I
really make a noise like an elephant with Thomas?"

"Of course not silly. I'm only teasing you."

"Oh... You're such a dork!"

"Next time I want to join the fun!"

Red-faced I listened to their conversation, and again I was amazed by how
easily both boys talked about those things that often are so difficult to
discuss between grownups.

'Be like a child' the bible tries to tell us, and perhaps the bible is
right. Life seems so much easier when you are not restricted by conventions
and all sorts of crazy beliefs...

In no time we were in town and I parked the car in the same place as
before. Harry immediately left the car and headed for the shop. He opened
the door and looked around for Peter, but the store seemed to be empty. For
a moment he looked disappointed, but then a familiar voice sounded from the
kitchen.

"A moment please, and take yourself a seat. I'm done within two minutes."

We sat down and patiently waited. Two minutes later Peter entered the shop,
still drying his hands with a towel.  "Hello my friends, it's nice to meet
you again. And I'm sorry I had to let you wait."

He threw the towel into the kitchen and walked to a corner, where he opened
a small cabinet. He took a model of a head and carefully placed it onto the
table in front of us. We looked in amazement at a greenish copy of little
Harry's face without any hair, partially covered with a flesh colored
substance with openings for the mouth and eyes.

Little Harry looked at the model and chuckled.

"Is that me? I REALLY look like a green alien!"

Cautiously he felt the soft substance that covered the model. After a
moment we all felt the softness of the plastic mask that would cover
Harry's distorted face. It actually felt like normal flesh, and the mask
seemed to live when you moved it.

First Peter explained to little Harry how to properly remove the mask from
the model and apply it to his own face, using a brush and a sticky rubbery
substance from a dark brown bottle.

Peter sat next to little Harry in front of a large mirror, and patiently
let little Harry attempt to put the mask onto his face. At first little
Harry was a bit giggly, but then he seriously looked at himself in the
mirror and indicated something about the nose. Peter left the mirror to get
some equipment and made a few adjustments. Again little Harry tried the
mask on, but the lips didn't fit well enough and again Peter made a small
modification. At last little Harry and Peter both were satisfied with the
result. Little Harry carefully painted the inside of the mask with the
sticky substance, and with a little help from a beaming Peter he applied
the mask to his face and turned around.

We were stunned! Before us stood a totally normal eight-year-old boy with a
broad smile, a cheerful pug nose, slightly stuffed cheeks, and full
lips. It really was a miracle! Nobody would recognize the freaky alien
little Harry was before. Peter had done a marvelous job.

"Be careful not to wear the mask too long, for after a while it will become
sweaty and itchy," Peter warned little Harry.

"Three hours will be the maximum, after that there's a risk that your skin
will become swollen and inflamed. You will have to clean the mask carefully
with water and soap every time you wear it, and keep it on the model when
it's not in use. The mask will last for about three months, because you are
a young boy and you are still growing very fast. After three months you
will have to come back for another mold and a new mask."

Little Harry displayed a major little Harry moment. He threw himself at
Peter and nearly suffocated him. Peter got tears in his eyes and gently
took him onto his lap, and little Harry melted into Peter for a moment with
a big grin on his face.

"Thank you mister! I am really, really happy with my new face. Now I can
attend a normal school, just like John!"

He jumped off Peter's lap and threw his arms around me.

"Thank you, thank you dad, for making this possible. You are the best dad
in the whole world!"

He kissed me, and suddenly he got an astounded look on his face.

"I can't FEEL you any more dad... it's like my lips are suddenly gone..."

He first looked at me and then at Peter with desperation in his eyes.

"That's because the mask also fits around your lips," Peter softly
explained.

"Your own lips are still there, but now they are hidden behind the lips of
your mask."

Harry went to the mirror and carefully studied his new face.

"Of course, that's the reason. Sometimes I am not so clever... sorry Peter
and dad."

He climbed onto my lap and looked a bit ashamed.

"That's because you are not used to your new mask," Peter explained,
"within a few days the mask will feel natural, and you will reckon with
it's restrictions."

Harry simply nodded, leaned into me, and I put my arms around him. He still
felt a bit confused.

"May I ask you a private question?" Peter asked me after a while.

"Err... yes, of course you may... what do you have in mind?"

"Well... yesterday I took the freedom to talk about your son to a friend
who lives near a clinic that specializes in severe burns. He told me that
during the last two years this clinic achieved astonishing results with
skin cultures and transplantations. But they are very expensive..."

He paused, and looked at me with a question in his eyes. Suddenly I knew
what Jack meant when he told me: 'Spend everything you have on him and you
will be royally rewarded.' Now I knew what I could do for my little soul
mate!

"Thank you Peter for bringing this to my attention. Do you know the address
of that clinic? I certainly will contact them, and of course I will let you
know about the results!"

A beaming Peter handed me a small card with the address of the clinic
already written on it. I put the card away in my wallet and paid Peter for
the marvelous work he had done with little Harry's mask. Peter packed the
greenish model and two brown bottles into a box and handed it to little
Harry who proudly toted the heavy box to the car. John offered to help
carrying the box, but little Harry simply refused. This was HIS model!

Everyone hugged everybody, and after a lot of goodbye's and thank you's we
drove off and headed for a big mall.  John couldn't keep his eyes off his
little friend, who looked out of the windows with beaming eyes and tried to
wave at every living soul he saw. Some people waved back at him and little
Harry proudly beamed even more.

"Did you see that? That woman saw me and she waved back at me!"

We parked the car in a parking lot, and little Harry jumped out of the car
and proudly looked around. Nobody paid him any attention, nobody pointed at
him, nobody laughed or called him a freak. All they saw was a normal
eight-year-old boy with a slightly stuffed face and a cute pug nose who
broadly smiled at everybody. We entered the mall and asked a security
officer for computer desks. Again nobody paid any attention to that little
boy and little Harry appeared to be a bit forlorn, as if he missed all the
looks and all the special attention he was so used to..

We headed for the furniture department with little Harry in front. He
expectantly looked at every person we passed and tried to make eye contact
with them, but nobody reacted, except for one man who stared back at him
and furtively brought his hand to his crotch. John immediately stepped
forward and balled his fists, but little Harry put his little pug nose high
into the air and totally ignored the man. John relaxed and stepped back
with a look of relief on his face, making me chuckle. He certainly cared
for his little brother!

After a while little Harry gave up and just shuffled to the computer desks,
where he started to look each desk over one by one.

John furtively took me aside and pointed at his little brother, who
carefully studied a nice looking desk.

"Why is Harry so sad? Isn't he happy with his new mask?"

"Well... I think he misses all the special attention. He was so used to
everybody pointing at him and making remarks. Now all of a sudden nobody
seems to see him..."

"That's weird! Two years long he waited for this moment, and now he
shouldn't be glad?"

He shook his head in disbelief and went back to the computer desks.

Little Harry carefully deliberated before he made his choice. Finally he
pointed to a nice looking dark wooden desk, not too big, with a lot of
drawers and little doors and of course a sliding keyboard shelf in the
middle. The salesman handed us a receipt for the stockroom where we could
take the disassembled desk with us in three separate packages. We went
downstairs and headed for the stockroom where I paid with my credit card,
and we received three packages. We took them with us on a cart to the
parking lot. The packages were too big for the trunk, so we carefully tied
them down onto the roof of our car.

Suddenly I got an excellent idea and turned around to face John.

"I suppose you are living with us for at least a couple of weeks, so
wouldn't it be nice for you to have your own desk in your own bedroom?"

John looked deep into my eyes with so much love that I nearly drowned in
it. After a moment he looked at little Harry.

"What do you think Harry? I will probably only be living with you and dad
for a few days..."

"You're afraid that I will be jealous because you are getting a present
too... But I already got my mask as a present, remember? I think dad has an
excellent idea! Of course you need your own desk, for you are going to live
with us for a very long time."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just know..."

"I really hope you are right!"

We returned to the mall, where John and little Harry deliberated all pros
and cons of the various desks. In the end John chose the same desk, with a
big smile on his face.

"Wow little brother, you are far more technical than I am. Thanks for your
help!"

We went back to the stockroom, firmly tied all six packages together onto
the roof of our car, and drove home, loudly singing along with the car
radio music. On the way home John detected a nice drive-in restaurant, and
we decided to stop there for a rest and a drink.

We entered the restaurant, and again nobody paid any attention to little
Harry. We took a table in front of the restaurant and ordered something to
drink. Little Harry looked around and smiled at the people around us, but
nobody reacted. After a while he slowly started to mope... until John
suddenly poked him in the ribs.

"When you really NEED that attention, why don't you peel your mask off for
a while? But please, stop sulking!"

Little Harry looked at John with bulging eyes... he started to say
something but stopped... he stared to the ground for a while... and
suddenly he rose and silently left the restaurant. John tried to follow his
little brother, but I stopped him.

"Just let him go for a while. I think he needs his personal space to sort
things out. He will come back when he's ready. Just keep an eye on him, for
he is only eight years old."

We saw little Harry cross the terrace and sit down next to a big tree,
looking at the ducks in the water along the road, with his head in his
hands. For a while he stared into the water, kicking small pebbles to the
ducks, who thought it could be food and in vain tried to catch
them. Suddenly a broad smile appeared on his face and he returned to the
table, where he sat down and looked at John and me with tears in his eyes.

"You were right! It sounds stupid, but I really missed all the
attention... wow, you saw right through me! Thank you!"

Little Harry was back on earth. We had our beaming boy back. He even seemed
to have grown a bit. He sat more upright in his chair and he looked around
with a lot more pride and with less dependency in his demeanor.

"Are you going to phone that clinic today dad?"

"As soon as we are back home son."

"I hope they can help me to get my real face back... of course I am happy
with my mask, but now it's starting to itch and it feels very sweaty
inside. As soon as we are home I'm going to scratch my face and wash it
with a lot of water!"

"What about Harry's hospital?" John asked with a frown on his face, "Harry
has to go back there within a few days."

"Well, let's first phone that clinic and hear what they have to tell
us. After that we will decide what to do."

We went back to our car and drove home, again singing along with the
music. After a while little Harry and John became more and more silent, and
eventually they drifted off into a slumber. The emotions of the day were
clearly taking their toll. They both woke up when I turned the car into the
driveway. Harry yawned and tried to scratch behind his mask, while John
anxiously started to loosen the ropes around the packages.

"Let's first go inside and drink some water," I proposed.

Harry rushed inside and began to peel the mask from his face.

"Will you help me dad, it's sticky everywhere and I am afraid to tear the
brim."

I helped him out of his mask, and with a sigh of relief he put his head
under the tap and turned the water on.

"That feels better!" he murmured spluttering and gasping, scratching his
face everywhere and splashing it with water.

He filled a bowl with warm water and soap and painstakingly cleaned the
mask. He took the greenish model out of the box and carefully draped the
mask around it to keep it in shape. He put it on the dresser, in clear
sight.

"That's me, the green alien, freshly cleaned up!"

"Sounds like the title of a creepy film," John chuckled.


Harry AnderS, alternative writer.

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