Date: Sun, 7 May 2006 19:40:58 +0200
From: Harry Anders <harry@harryanders.com>
Subject: Little-Harrys-youth-11

MY FIRST BOOK 'LITTLE HARRY' IS FOR SALE...

Please buy it. It costs only $ 19.95, and it's helping other people to cope
with their own feelings!

Copy this link into your webbrowser:
   http://www.harryanders.com
and have a look. Thank you very much!

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

LITTLE HARRY'S YOUTH

The end of chapter 10 said:

At last my parents and I decided to return to this camp after our vacation,
and stay here for another few days. Dominic started to dance around and
dried his tears, looking forward to our renewed meeting within a few weeks.
Suddenly I had a strange feeling: I wouldn't see him again until after many
years... I shook my head, and pushed the feeling away.

A few grown-ups helped my Dad connect the caravan to our car, and we all
hugged each other, promising to see each other again within a few weeks. My
Dad started the engine, and we drove off, cheered at by everybody and
waving until we rounded the corner and couldn't see them any longer.  Again
we were on our way to see more of those strange gadjo countries...


-----------------

Chapter 11. Smoked trout, and meeting my soul mates.

We left the town and drove on for a couple of hours, until my Dad parked
our combination in a small clearing to stretch our legs. I scouted the
surroundings, and soon saw a stream where several huge and shiny fishes
were jumping out of the water.

I looked at them in awe, and ran back to our caravan:

"Dad, do we have something to fish with? There are lots of huge fishes in
that stream over there."

Together we went back to the stream, and my Dad told me:

"Those fishes are called 'trout', and they do taste heavenly. Let's get
some fishing equipment."

We returned to our caravan, where my Dad rummaged in a drawer to find a
spool of line and a few small fishhooks. He attached two hooks to two
pieces of strand, and offered me one.

Next we had to find some bait. I proposed to use little bits of toast, but
my father grinned and told me the trout wouldn't appreciate that. They were
used to eating a living prey, so we had to find small insects or river
crabs or such.

We walked along the stream, until we saw a couple of minnows in a
puddle. My Dad handed me a little fishing net, and I scooped a few small
fishes out of the water. We attached them to the hooks, and started to fish
by throwing them into the water.

Suddenly my line slipped through my fingers, until I got a better hold of
it. Ouch, that was painful! I bit my lip, but didn't let go of the
line. Now a huge fish started to pull at it, and jumped up and down to get
rid of the hook in its mouth. I was elated, and carefully brought in the
beautiful fish, that struggled and shone in the sunlight. I had caught my
first fish, and it was a huge one!

My Dad took over, and showed me how to kill it by biting its head. Yuck,
that didn't look very tasty, but it was really effective. We put my fish
aside, and I put the next small baitfish onto my hook.

Ten seconds later I caught my second fish, causing my Dad to mutter:

"They seem to like you. Why don't they bite MY bait?"

A second later he caught his first trout. After that we caught fish after
fish, until we had to go back to our caravan to get a basket to transport
the small wagon load. My Dad showed me how to clean them by opening their
stomachs and get everything yucky out.

We made a small campfire to smoke them, thus conserving them for future
use. I went back to the stream, and returned carrying some greenish moss
and a few small leaves that smelled and tasted good. I spiced our fished
with them, and we put all the fishes onto stakes over the fire.

That evening Dad, Mom, and I ate smoked trout until our mouths dribbled
with fat and we were filled to the brim.

The next morning we left the clearing and turned onto the road. Suddenly I
started to grin, and pointed to an enormous billboard showing: 'Trout
nursery; fishing strictly prohibited' in several different languages...

We started to bellow with laughter, and my Dad nearly steered off the road
having tears in his eyes. We had found the best fishing ground mankind had
ever invented. We stopped, and hid our smoked trout in a bag under our
couch, as a precaution. One could never know...

The landscape started to change, and again we had to stop at the border of
the next country. Again the customs didn't even look at me, and soon they
beckoned us to drive on. Slowly I got used to the fact that the customs
officers didn't look for a little blond-haired gypsy boy at all, and popped
up from in between the seats, this time feeling a bit ridiculous.

My Dad looked over his shoulder, and grinned:

"Still afraid those customs officers will put their nice looking gadjo
trousers onto you?"

I started to punch him, until my Mom warned me not to distract him from the
ongoing traffic. I promised her to be well-behaved until we would stop at
the next clearing or gas station. Then I would GET him!

We drove on for a long time, looking at the leveled landscape where now and
then a lonely farm or a small village showed up.

Suddenly our car started to hiccup, and the engine nearly stopped. My Dad
competently steered our combination towards a nice looking village, and
parked it in a small clearing along the road.  We left our car, and my Dad
dived under the hot hood to have a look at the engine.

Of course I was glued to his side, and looked at the greasy thing:

"I think it's a clogged nozzle, Dad. Pietro's snow scooter produced that
same hiccup noise, until we cleaned its carburetor."

"Do you think so? Maybe you could even show me where those nozzles are?"

I looked carefully at that strange looking thing that held the throttle,
and finally thought:

"I think we have to remove the air filter first."

We went to our caravan to get some tools, while from across the road a few
gadjo children looked at our ministrations.

We removed the air filter, and now I saw where the nozzles were. I
unscrewed them, and tried to look through the small holes in the
bottom. This one seemed to be okay, but the other one held a small piece of
dirt. I had found the problem!

I blew the piece of dirt away, and carefully reassembled everything. My Dad
went inside our car, and started the engine. Immediately it produced the
friendly noise we were so used to. We had repaired our car all by
ourselves, and I started to cheer and dance around.

We went into our caravan to wash our hands, and then my Mom insisted on
cleaning my face that showed some smears. Women...

We sat down around our small caravan table, and had smoked trout for
dinner. Again we had to wash our hands and faces...

My Dad was silent for a long time, and finally asked us:

"What do you think, shall we go home? This is only an old car, and I'm
afraid from now on we can't really trust it. We are nearly out of money,
our clothes are becoming filthy and worn, and I'm getting a bit homesick. I
think it's time to go home..."

Suddenly I felt sad, but didn't understand why. I had a feeling as if my
Dad was talking about leaving for always...  My eyes started to tear, and I
crawled onto my Dad's lap:

"Yeah, I think it's time to go home."

I could see my Mom was a bit sad too. She agreed, and we decided to depart
early in the morning, all three of us sighing and having teary eyes.

Our jerrycan was nearly empty, so I took it from under the sink and went
outside to ask somebody to help me fill it with water, as was my task as
our water bearer. I squinted in the sudden sunlight, and waited until my
eyes were used to it.

I looked around, and saw across the street the same gadjo children I had
seen before, looking at me curiously and talking to each other. They seemed
to be nice and even smiled at me, so I decided to ask them for help.

I crossed the street, and pointed to my empty jerrycan:

"Please, can you help me to get some water?"

They answered me in a strange language I had never heard before, but
somehow it sounded familiar. I didn't understand the words, but it was very
easy to feel their energy, and thus I knew what they were saying. I also
had a feeling that I could learn to speak and understand this particular
language very fast. Maybe I had spoken it myself during one of my past
lives?

I could feel they understood my need for water, and one of the boys asked
me to follow them. I smiled at them, and nodded. One of them took my
jerrycan, while one of the girls took my hand and guided me around the
block to another street. We crossed the street, and went to a gadjo man who
was washing his car using a brush, and a water hose. Yes, that was what I
needed!

I left the girl, took my jerrycan, and went to the man, showing him it was
empty:

"Please, can I have some water to fill my jerrycan?"

The man smiled at me, ruffled my hear, and at that moment my world turned
upside down. I started to pant, and my heart jumped in my chest.

I KNEW this man, I was absolutely sure! I had never seen him before, but he
immediately felt as a dear friend, a kindred soul, a soul mate...

The man looked at me for a long time, as if he tried to remember
me. Inwardly I started to shout: 'Yes, I am the one you are waiting for!'
but I didn't know the words in the foreign language, and I didn't
understand myself either. What strange things was I thinking now?

Finally the man took my jerrycan and carefully rinsed it out. He took the
hose and filled the jerrycan to the brim, looking at me all the time. Every
time our eyes met, we grinned at each other without words. Now I was sure
he recognized me too...

The man told the children something in the foreign language, but I knew
what he was saying:

"Shall we accompany the little blond boy, and help him carry his too heavy
jerrycan?"

The children agreed, and the man took my jerrycan and beckoned me to show
him the way. I wormed my small hand into his bigger hand, and that felt
totally natural to do so. He pinched my hand tenderly, and together we went
to my caravan, closely followed by the children.

My Mom saw us coming and opened the door. I went in first, followed by the
man carrying our jerrycan. I showed him where he could put it under the
sink, while the other children hesitantly entered our caravan one by one
and curiously looked around. We went to the living room, where my Dad rose
from the couch and greeted the man and the children. They all sat down on
the couch and the opposite bench, crowding our room.

My Mom went to the kitchen, and returned carrying a tray with glasses and
lemonade. She looked at the children with a questioning face, and they all
understood the unspoken question and nodded. Mom started to fill the
glasses and deal them round.

I looked at the children curiously, and soon my eyes returned to the oldest
boy. He seemed to be a very nice boy, around ten or eleven years old,
having short dark brown hair and deep brown eyes that looked back at me
showing warmth and tenderness. He resembled the gadjo man, and I thought
they could be father and son. He smiled at me, and I smiled back. Something
unspoken happened between us, and suddenly I wanted to be his friend. In a
way he reminded me of Micha, but I was sure this boy would never exchange
me for another boy...

We couldn't keep our eyes off each other, and smiled at each other all the
time. He was the friendliest boy I had ever seen. Now and then it felt as
if we had a conversation without words. He could have been my brother, or
at least my very best friend!

The other children sipped their lemonade, and started to talk to each other
and to the man. My parents didn't understand a word of what they were
talking about, but I could feel the energy of their words, and picked up
things as 'poor', 'out of money', 'helping out', and 'offer some food'.

I heard the oldest boy call the gadjo man 'Jack', and he called the boy
'John'. The other boys were called 'Thomas' and 'Mark', and the girls were
called 'Marrie' and 'Chrissy'. I liked them all, and they seemed to know
each other very well. Maybe they were a family?

The nice man turned towards my Mom and asked her a question, a bit
hesitantly.

She didn't understand him, but I did, so I tried to translate his words:

"Mom, the man's name is Jack, and he's asking us whether we want some help
and food."

My Mom was already used to my strange abilities, and gratefully accepted my
translation:

"Can you tell him we are nearly out of money, and we will be very thankful
for any kind of help?"

I tried to use the words I had picked up from the conversation:

"Jack... err... help want yes, food want yes, money out."

Jack seemed to understand me and broadly smiled, warming my heart. I didn't
know why, but I already LOVED him. And I loved his son John, who resembled
him and again smiled at me showing those same deep brown eyes and funny
dimples. They HAD to be father and son.

Jack rose from his seat, and beckoned us to follow him. We left the
caravan, and again I put my small hand into Jack's bigger hand. Jack smiled
at me, and told me something I didn't understand but that felt like: "You
are a very nice boy", making me blush.

Suddenly John took my other hand, and grinned at me. Now I nearly started
to skip from the joyful feelings in my heart. I was befriended with the two
most lovable and nicest people in the whole world, being Jack and his son
John!

Together we went to Jack's house, where his wet car patiently waited for
him in his driveway. The other children followed us closely. Jack rummaged
in his pockets until he found his keys, and invitingly opened the front
door. We all followed him into his house, crowding the hallway.

Jack asked John to get some plastic bags from the kitchen, and asked me to
follow him upstairs. There he went to a hallway closet, and started to
rummage in a huge pile of clothes. He collected a whole bunch of them, and
we put them into the plastic bags John brought upstairs. Finally he had
gathered enough, and went downstairs followed by us carrying the filled
bags.

We entered the kitchen, where the other children were waiting for us. Jack
went to the refrigerator and raided it, filling a few cardboard boxes with
its contents. He opened the cupboards one by one, and took several things
out of them, putting them into other boxes. Finally he closed the boxes,
and asked the children to carry them to my caravan.

In procession we went back to our caravan, carrying and dragging all the
filled boxes and bags.

My parents were elated, and abundantly thanked Jack and the children. My
Dad proudly handed them the bag with the remainder of our smoked trout,
making a deep bow. Jack bowed back, and told him it was his pleasure to be
able to help us, while I translated his words to my parents. Jack sniffed
the bag, looked into it, and made a sound that resembled "Yummy!"

Jack ruffled my hair, John and I hugged each other, and the other children
lined up for their personal hug. They left us a bit reluctantly, and
suddenly our caravan was dead silent and very empty...

I felt sad to see them go, knowing we would return to our own country early
in the morning and probably never see them again.

We started to sort out all the nice and colorful clothes that turned out to
be very useful. My Dad dressed into nice looking white trousers and a dark
blue shirt, and my Mom found a beautiful mohair sweater and warm socks. My
Mom tried to persuade me to dress into blue jeans that were at least two
sizes too big, but I declined. Maybe they would fit me within a couple of
years? However I found a beautiful colored T-shirt which I thought it could
have belonged to John, and put it on. It was way too big for my small body,
but it wanted to wear it anyway.

We opened the cardboard boxes and stowed the contents into our cupboards,
looking at all sorts of foreign foods. We opened a few of them, and munched
on the tasty crackers and nicely smelling tablets of colored chocolate,
feeling very grateful. My Mom opened a loaf of real gadjo bread, buttered
the slices, and put some cheese and tomatoes onto them. They tasted
excellent, and soon filled our stomachs to the brim.

After the meal somebody knocked on the door of our caravan, so I opened it
and looked outside. A beaming John broadly smiled at me, accompanied by the
other children who looked at me expectantly. John asked me to join them
outside, and I asked my Mom and Dad for their consent. They both agreed,
and wished me a pleasurable evening.

Outside our caravan John immediately threw his arms around my shoulders,
and told me they all had enjoyed the exquisite taste of the trout very
much. I could understand him quite well, but didn't know the words to tell
him I had gathered those spicy herbs all by myself...

I threw my arms around his waist, and we cuddled for a moment, both of us
smiling from ear to ear. That felt good!

My new friends wanted to play a game of hide and seek, and of course I
joined them! I knew that game, and had played it many times before in our
woods, where I used to be very good at it. Mark closed his eyes and started
to count, while we swarmed out and tried to hide somewhere.

I nestled myself into a small but very dense bush along a garden, from
where I could nicely see everything without being seen myself. In this game
I had definitely the advantage of being a small runt!

John hid himself behind our caravan, Thomas crawled into a small gap
between two adjacent trees, Marrie hid behind an old wheelbarrow abundantly
filled with plants and flowers, and Chrissy obviously couldn't decide where
to hide and ran around blindly. At last she hid behind a too small tree,
and I expected her to be discovered first.

Mark reached the end of the counting, and started to look around. Two
seconds later he saw Chrissy, who carelessly tried to peek at him.  Chrissy
stepped from behind the tree, and giggled:

"I know where John is hiding himself!"

"I'm warning you: don't say a word!"

"I'm only telling you I KNOW where he is hiding. I'm NOT saying he's hiding
behind a caravan!"

John stepped from behind the caravan, and tried to look angry:

"Chrissy, I've told you many times to think first before you are telling us
something stupid."

"I'm NOT stupid, and I didn't tell Mark where you were hiding this
time... or did I? I'm sorry..."

I bit the tip of my tongue to avoid laughing out loudly.

Now we were three to three. Mark, John, and Chrissy were looking for
Thomas, Marrie, and me. They walked around, and I saw John grinning at
Marrie but he didn't say a word. He walked on until he saw Thomas and
winked at him, and now he started to look for me.

Chrissy followed John like a faithful puppy dog, but fortunately she didn't
look at anybody else.

Mark walked around in circles until he finally saw Marrie. Ten seconds
later he discovered Thomas who tried to stretch his painful muscles.  Now
we were five to one. They were all looking for me...

At first they looked around everywhere in silence, but after a while Mark
hesitantly asked:

"Did any of you see where that little Harry hid himself?"

"No, I didn't see him after we went away to hide. Where can he be?"

"I hope he didn't leave us and go home early."

"I was hiding behind their caravan, and could see their door all the
time. He didn't enter it."

"Well, I think he's laughing at us this very moment. Come on, let's go find
him!"

They resumed their quest, and even looked into our caravan. My parents
turned up at our windows, both smiling and looking around, but of course
they didn't see me either. They winked at the children, and John winked
back at them.

Finally my friends started to painstakingly search all the bushes around
the gardens. One time Thomas nearly stepped onto me, but I ducked my head
and held my breath, and he didn't see me. I nearly gave away my hiding
place by chuckling, but he didn't even hear me and went on...

Now they became a bit more anxious, and huddled together:

"I hope nothing has happened to that little gypsy boy... Shall we give up
and call him?"

"Nah, we've looked everywhere. Where can he be? Is he really that good at
hiding?"

"I suppose so... Okay, let's give up and call him."

John stepped forward, and brought his hands to his mouth to amplify the
sound:

"Harry, where are you? Please come out of your hiding place, we're giving
up. You won!"

I left my small bush, being barely ten feet away, and smiled from ear to
ear...

"THERE you are... how come we didn't find you? I'm sure we've looked into
that bush several times!"

"I... good hiding, hiding good. Thomas look bush, no find little gypsy,
me."

They started to laugh, and told me I had to be the very best hider in
town. I so wanted to tell them about my sneaking through our woods every
day, but couldn't find the proper foreign words. I felt a bit frustrated,
but also happy to be with my new friends.

John took me onto his shoulders in triumph, and together we rounded the
block and went to Jack's house.

Jack seemed to be happy to see us. He invited us in, and immediately took
me aside. He told me they had really feasted on the trout. They had set up
a table in the garden, and invited all the parents to join them. Everybody
went home licking their fingers.

We went into the cozy living room, where the children slumped down onto the
leather couch and into a few armchairs. Obviously they had been here many
times before. Every available place was occupied, but where would I sit
down? I looked around...

Suddenly I grinned, and crawled onto Jack's lap.  Jack looked a bit
surprised, but folded his arms around my body and held me close. That felt
good! I slumped backwards and let myself melt into my Big Friend. I felt
him kiss the top of my head tenderly, and that felt very good! I marveled
in the feeling of being loved, and slowly closed my eyes.

The children started to tell Jack everything about our game of hide and
seek, while I enjoyed the closeness to my big friend and slowly fell asleep
in his arms. I started to dream of my newly found friends, and teaching
them how to properly play hide and seek.

I woke up when Jack carefully lifted me off his lap and rose from his
chair. For a moment I didn't know where I was, but then I remembered
everything and started to smile. I saw it was nearly dark outside, and my
friends had to go home.

Jack lifted me onto his shoulders, and the children accompanied us to my
caravan. My parents invited them in, but the children politely excused
themselves because they had to be home before total darkness.

John spontaneously threw his arms around me, and sniffled:

"I wish you could live with us. I will miss you terribly!"

Jack kissed my forehead, and got tears in his own eyes too:

"I will miss you too, my little friend! Take good care of yourself, and I
hope we will once meet again."

I understood their words, got tears in my eyes, and really hoped we would
see each other again some time!

That evening my parents and I sat in the small living room of our caravan,
and talked. We talked about how the togetherness of the trip had made us
more close to each other than we ever were before. We talked about the
different gadjo's we had met, and about Jack and the children who were
really nice to us. We talked about how good it felt to go home, but how it
also felt sad to leave our newly found friends behind.

At last my Dad took me onto his lap, and tenderly kissed my head:

"My precious son; please promise us that, if ever something would happen to
us, you will look for another Dad to live with. Don't be sad, because we
will continue to look after you from heaven."

I didn't understand why he told me that, and asked him:

"Why are you telling me this? You are not planning to die, are you?"

"You know we will always be honest with you. Your Mom and I have been
talking a lot lately, and we both have the same feeling something is going
to happen to us soon. We don't know what will happen, that's why we are
telling you this as a precaution."

I knew I had felt that same feeling myself a couple of times, as if
something was going to happen that would change my life forever...

"I promise you, Mom and Dad. I will not be sad, and look for another Dad
once you are in heaven. But I hope that will not be necessary..."

My Mom sat down next to us, and together we cuddled for a long time, until
we started to yawn and prepared to go to bed.

I don't know why I did it, but that night I wanted to sleep alone:

"I want to give you the space to put your penis into Mom's vagina and breed
a duffer before we're going home."

"Maybe we will do that, thank you for being so considerate."

My Dad laughed and started to tickle me, until I shrieked with laughter and
begged him to stop.

He helped me set up a small bed in the back of our caravan, next to the
front door. I undressed, told my parents goodnight, and crawled under the
blankets after drinking a glass of water.

Two minutes later I felt myself drift away into a deep sleep.


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

Thank you for reading this chapter of 'Little Harry's youth'.

My FIRST book, 'Little Harry', is for sale! It costs only $ 19.95 ...
Please visit my homepage  http://www.harryanders.com
and buy it. It's helping lots of people to cope with their feelings!


I love your emails, please send them to  harry@harryanders.com .

Maybe I will not be able to answer all of them, but be assured I will
certainly read them all!


I wish you lots of Love in your life, and Peace in your heart.
And thank you, Nifty, for hosting my stories.

Harry AnderS, alternative writer.
I'm living in The Netherlands, and my native language is Dutch.
Please have a look at my site  http://www.harryanders.com
or send me and email at  mailto:harry@harryanders.com