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 morning sun always woke me 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 of? 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.

After 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 badly burnt face, but he didn't wake up and just slept on.

Two years ago, the Royal Gypsy 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 blazing 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 all over very badly.

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 the boy 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 temporarily 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. After I met little Harry, I took him into my house and gave him his 'own' room back, upstairs, second door to the left.

Sometime during the night, he had 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 once was my own little son, and also had been my best friend during several other incarnations, I shifted away from the teasing sunlight, closed my eyes, and dozed off again.

Surprisingly, I woke up in my own 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 few hungry deer grunted while looking for something to eat. I hoped one of the deer would step into the many traps my son and I had set up, so that we would have some 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 some tasty herbs, and roast their meat to preserve it 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 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 several months. Only, where could I find any fresh milk, and how should I warm his shivering little body?

First, I wrapped my shivering baby son in a deer pelt and put the small 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 and milk it.

After several failed tries, I learned how to milk it without being kicked and spilling its milk across the floor. From now on, I would be able to still my little son's hunger! Feeling 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 log cabin half a mile away from ours. 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 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 diapers. From that day on, we were best friends; and my friend often babysat my little son while I had to be away to exchange pelts for food and for other necessities.

Slowly, I learned how to properly feed and clean my baby boy, with the help of my friend and his baby-nurturing book. During the day, my little 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 tiny 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 safely enveloping arms. He grew up in a cheerful mood, was always good-tempered, and turned out to be extremely bright and always ready to help me.

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 young age, I taught him how to scour our woods safely, while looking out for dangerously hidden 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.

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 happy dream, because my snoring son started to stir in my arms. For a few seconds, I didn't know where we were, because I couldn't recognize my surroundings. Where had I landed, and what had happened to our safe and cozy log cabin? Then, I remembered living in my newly bought house in this small village, having my little son in my arms who had spread out all over my chest and stomach as some affectionate little octopus.

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 heard him purr like a happy little kitten, he didn't wake up and just slept on. Only, my 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 curled up next to me, 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 upstairs, 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 my boy towards his 'own' side so that I could enter 'my' side of our bed.

For a couple of seconds, I stared at my boy's naked little body with all its nasty burns, reddish scars, and still growing wild flesh. Then, I became extremely aware of the fact that my little soul mate was completely naked, because his burns and scars always started to itch under pressure or in a too warm bed, while I was clad in only briefs and nothing else! During our past trapper lives, sleeping naked together had never been a problem. But, in our present lives, we were no longer living in our safe log cabin in our secluded forest, but in our extremely mistrustful 'big brother' society!

What would my neighbors think of me, if they ever found out how we were sleeping together? Undoubtedly, they would see my naked little boy sleeping next to me as being very inappropriate! I was sure that nobody would ever 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 next to me as the innocent victim of my 'sexual aberrations'...

Feeling more and more uneasy, I first lifted my boy towards his 'own' side of our bed. Then, I climbed back into 'my side', while trying to keep a safe distance from my naked boy. Only, the same moment when he felt me, he quickly 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 for my little son from my past life, I refolded my arms around my boy's tiny frame and held him close to my side, while I almost started to cry from my very intense fatherly feelings. How in the world could I ever deny my son the tender loving care and safe togetherness that 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 so 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. Our 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 so-called 'past lives' and the very intense bond we once had as a lone trapper and his own 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 cold nights.

A few minutes later, my snoring boy woke up and first produced a couple of heartfelt yawns. Then, lying glued to my side, he started to stretch his limbs, one by one, while sighing in satisfaction. At last, he unglued his agile little body from my left side, turned around, happily crawled onto my stomach, and offered me a big morning kiss.

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

"Come on, Dad, wakey wakey! Yesterday I've made us breakfast; therefore, today it's your turn..."

Still trying to wake up completely, I grumbled:

"Please, be a good son and bring me breakfast in bed..."

Chuckling at my grumbled protest, my little imp adeptly kicked our blankets away. Then, he started to tickle my old ribs mercilessly, as usual expertly finding all my sensitive spots! For a few seconds, 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. Then, as fast as I could, I turned around, crawled onto my knees, and triumphantly straddled my boy's tiny frame by clamping his wriggling thighs between my legs. Teasingly, I tickled his little chest and belly, while I asked him:

"Now, who is the REAL boss here?"

"I know, but I'm not telling you! Now, please, stop tickling, because I have to pee badly and I don't want to wet our waterbed."

"Then, I think you are still a little baby, and I have to buy you a packet of diapers to put them on you during the night."

"Then, I think you are already a senile old man, and you should wear those diapers yourself!"

"WHAT? How do you dare call me 'senile', at my young age! That earns you another tickle torture."

Before I could tickle my again squirming boy, my way too loud doorbell rang; its sound harshly 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! Only, who could have arrived here, to wake us up this early in the morning? Had John again left his own house too early, as he had done a few times before, to try to lure his 'little Gypsy brother' and me into taking our showers together? Why hadn't my clairvoyant little Shaman sensed John's presence at least ten seconds in advance, as usual? Up to now, his strange abilities had always worked flawlessly...

In the meantime, 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 our 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 John's Mom; but she cries and she has a black eye!"

Quickly, I left my 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 loathsome 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 quickly put on his 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 our 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 even more, and sniffled in between her heavy sobs:

"Sorry for waking you; but could I please have a word with you?"

"Yes, of course! Harry, could you please get a glass of water?"

Looking less worried but still concerned, my boy hurried towards our kitchen to get a glass of water. Trudy followed me into our living room, where 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, and where was her oldest son, 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 some juvenile home to give them 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. While he bent over towards Trudy's ear, I heard him whisper:

"Just 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 stared at her former little tenant, looking surprised. Then, a feeble smile crossed her face. While suppressing her sobs, 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. Next, he even tried to let her blow her runny nose! When that didn't seem to work, he hopped off her lap and offered her the glass of water.

After taking a couple sips of water, Trudy hesitatingly explained why she had arrived here, this early in the morning:

"I know I can trust both you and Harry, and that is why I want to tell you my life story. So far, I've never revealed the real story of my marriage to anyone before; until I accidentally told Eric..."

Fourteen years ago, Trudy walked outside, didn't look where she went, and bumped into a nice and warmhearted neighbor who turned out to live in the same neighborhood. They liked each other at first sight, drank some wine, and suddenly found themselves in each other's arms. They also 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 few weeks later, Trudy found out she was pregnant! Feeling elated, she decided to keep her child, although she didn't want to be an unmarried mother and blamed herself for not using any protection. Although she felt 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, and forced him to marry her. Surprisingly, Eric 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, and a close friend even joked about 'a nice postman', Eric 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 still felt too ashamed 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 my boy 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 were 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 stupid and jealous; and John wasn't even his own descendant...

For a second, 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 own 'bastard child' as she liked. He threw his trunks into his car, and left the house with screeching tires.

This morning, Eric returned, 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 upstairs, 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 her house immediately and never come back.

This time, Eric exploded with ire, attacked his wife, and slapped her face; until John threw himself at Eric and pummeled and kicked him with all of his might! Raging and screaming, John 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 sudden outburst of rage, because he didn't even try to fight him back. Only protecting 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...

After telling us her story, 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 safer.

Sitting together in silence, we waited for the still uncontrollably laughing Trudy to recover. As a trained psychotherapist, I knew what was happening, and I wasn't concerned at all about her mental health. This was only an emotional outburst, and Trudy would soon be her 'normal' self again. Indeed, within a few minutes, she 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 never told Jack that John is his own son, and now it is 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 got some first-hand acknowledgment of what I already suspected. After I had seen Jack's 'spirit', during my 'induced trance', I already knew that John looked like Jack and not like Eric! Now, Trudy had 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 rather peculiar thought struck me. Because Jack had been my own little brother before he died and reincarnated, didn't that make John sort of my 'nephew'?

2. Two growing boys start living in my house.

Now that Trudy had revealed her secret to us, she seemed to feel both 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 real truth about my marriage to anybody else. Please, Big Harry and little Harry, could you keep my real life story a secret from my oldest son, John, until he will be old enough to understand everything?"

For a moment, my little soul mate and I looked at each other, and we had a short conversation without words. Then, we both nodded at the same time. Of course, we would keep Trudy's revelation a secret from her oldest son, John, until he would be old enough. Trudy 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 want 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 with Harry. I know he is very fond of his 'little Gypsy brother', and he certainly 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 conversation without words, while my boy happily smiled back 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! Smiling back at my happy looking boy, I answered Trudy:

"Of course, John can always stay with Harry and me, whenever necessary. If he wants to, I will give him his own room with his own belongings in it, he can sleep in one of our spare folding beds, and I will treat him as if he is my own son. I will also 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, looking at us as if he felt a bit annoyed. Of course, we could always count on him as well. How could we ever be in doubt about such a self-evident thing...

Looking even happier, 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 plastic bag with a wagonload of small computer games. Of course, my little soul mate immediately joined John and helped him stow everything away in John's new room that was next to his bedroom. For several minutes, I heard them rummaging in John's room, while having lots of fun. Then, they tumbled downstairs and entered our living room, still teasing and pushing each other as usual. John seemed to limp a little 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 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 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 rather heavy frame in midair, as he had done a few times before. Although my old and a bit rusty spine groaned with such an 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 at least a few weeks, he would try to behave as if he really were my own son.

I chuckled at seeing John's 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?"

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

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

"Yes, of course... Suddenly, everything turns out to be MY fault, as usual. Thank you very much."

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 also 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.

Suddenly, 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. She also 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 they disappeared around a corner.

From now on, I had two growing boys living in my house! I only hoped I would be able to cope with them properly, without making too 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. 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.

Of course, they immediately were in a vigorous pillow fight, yelling and baritoning at each other while having the fun of their lives. At last, two happy looking boys raced down the stairs and tumbled into our living room, where my little soul mate asked me:

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

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

For a few seconds, both boys stared me down in obvious disdain, as if I had told them a very bad joke. Then, they started to moan loudly, while demonstratively rubbing their already loudly 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 surprise, 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 was already neglecting them. Would they really be able to cope with ME?

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 some 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 slowly started to calm down.

Especially John got a pensive look on his face, while staring at his still happily eating little Gypsy 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 yesterday evening..."

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 also burnt down all my memories from my past, I had totally forgotten 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 again remember that I am of Royal Herot... err... Herot-something? In short, I am our 'Gypsy Crown Prince Harold Romani', our next 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, my boy didn't even think about 'reading' John's thoughts, to sense that John didn't believe him...

At last, John exclaimed, with a skeptic voice:

"YOU should be a Gypsy Crown Prince and of Royal Heritage? Do you really think I would believe that?"

"Oh yeah, the correct word is 'heritage', but it's still a difficult word in your language. Only, I really am our 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 where I am living now, and I have no idea where I can find them."

Still looking full of amazement, John hesitantly answered:

"My goodness, I am totally speechless! This is the last thing I ever expected... My 'little Gypsy 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, we have to keep my Royal Heritage a secret, until I will be old enough to reign as our next Gypsy Leader, 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 a 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 unexpected news, John finally turned towards me and asked me:

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

"Yes, Harry is telling the truth. He really is 'Gypsy Crown Prince Harold Romani', the one and only Gypsy Heir to the Throne."

"Oh, WOW... I never thought that my little brother could be a real Gypsy Crown Prince, although he sometimes acts a bit arrogant, as if he could be an unknown Aristocrat... Well, now that I think about it some more, it suddenly 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 truly impressed about his little brother being a real Gypsy Crown Prince, as if he had to digest this information first.

In the meantime, our little Gypsy Prince stared at John with a proud face and brightly sparkling eyes. Obviously, he was still eager to tell John about Christian's other revelations. In his over-enthusiasm, he didn't even sense that John was still digesting the 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 immediately returned to the 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 hungry grizzly bear killed all three of us and we met again in heaven. Now, all of us are reincarnu... err... born again, and living here in Jack's former house. Because Jack once was Dad's own little brother; that makes Dad sort of your uncle, and you are sort of 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 slowly 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... I am sorry. I promised your 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, to let you be Eric's official son..."

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 stared into empty space with a deep frown on his pensive face, as if trying to put his entangled thoughts together. Again, he 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:

"From when I was only a little boy, I've 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 father to me than Eric has ever been! Therefore, I wasn't surprised to find out that my mother was pregnant from me nearly a month before she married Eric. Besides, Eric always only picked on me, and never on Mark or on Marrie. And, Eric absolutely 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 cereal bowl, now and then absent-mindedly poking in it.

In the meantime, 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, my boy was only eight years old and perhaps still a bit too young to keep such an important secret... What would John do now, after 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 promises and revealed her biggest secret to what Eric hatefully called her 'bastard child'?

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

"My dear brother, don't blame yourself, because none of this has been your fault. I've 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 little bit sorry..."

At that moment, 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 even started to look a bit 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? Actually, you didn't make a real mistake, because it is good for John to know who his real father is!"

Still looking a bit naughty, my boy turned towards me and stared deeply into my eyes, while his built-in sun already restarted to shine. First, he quickly 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 could be thinking of something funny.

Finally, with a smug face, my boy explained:

"Mom's secret slipped out of my mouth, because Jack had changed my 'flow of thoughts' on purpose! Although Jack did it to let his own son know who he is in reality, 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 allow him to show up again."

Again, I saw my little Prince's proud demeanor of Aristocracy, as if he kindly admonished a misbehaving subject. He truly was a little Prince! I also 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 I only laughed at my own thoughts. In obvious disbelief, my young friend shook his head a few times, 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 started to help him, by drying the bowls and cleaning our kitchen table and the wet 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 for John to wait until he would be ready to ask me his own questions? At last, I decided to wait for my young friend...

After my boys had finished up, we went to our living room and slumped down on our usual couch, still without saying a word. Silently, both boys leaned into my sides, this time without their usual bantering. In the meantime, I started to feel more and more uneasy about how John would react, once he started to realize that Jack was his real father, and not 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 had decided to do something about it!

Hesitantly, and with a small voice, John asked me:

"Please, Big Harry, may I start calling you 'Dad' from now on, as Harry always does? Of course, I know you are sort of my 'uncle' and I am your 'nephew', but I don't like those words..."

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

Feeling relieved, I answered my young friend:

"Okay, 'nephew', you may start calling 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 this and done something about it before he slapped my Mom! 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. Finally, I am your son for real, and Harry is my little brother for real! Wow, I feel so happy that I could laugh and cry at the same time..."

Now crying and laughing at the same time, John rose from our couch and happily crawled onto my lap, to be held and cuddled. Again, John and I could feel our mutual Love grow more and more! Almost choking up from sheer happiness, I welcomed my 'new son' into my life. Then, John's 'little Gypsy brother' claimed his own share, by pushing his 'big brother' a little bit aside and joining the cuddle.

3. Searching for adoption; three sweaty boys.

For quite some time, my two sons and I cuddled on our couch, still 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. Frolicking and bumping into each other, as usual, they left me and quickly disappeared into our hallway.

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 kiss and a hug, and promised to be home before lunch. First, they went upstairs to put on 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 its wiring, but my Internet connection just wouldn't come to life. After some more trying, I phoned my cable company, where a helpful technician guided me through a new setup.

Finally, their homepage appeared, and tons of emails started to stream in! Feeling happy again, I thanked the technician for his 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 first had settled down some more. For this moment, I didn't want my old family to know about my two young friends living in my house, to avoid any curious questions.

Now that my computer finally was working as it should, 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 amount of burn treatment information overwhelmed me; and, at first, I felt a bit nauseous at all the terrible sights of severely burnt people, both young and old.

Then, I started to read, and soon found out there are three different '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 reading 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 offered any real help. Most sites told me their 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 long last, I found the address of such a modern skin transplant clinic; but they seemed to be extremely expensive and didn’t give much information either. Yet, I took a piece of paper and wrote their address 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 offer us some valuable advice?

Now that I felt tired of gathering 'burn injury' information, I typed in the word 'adoption'. Within a few seconds, thousands of sites showed up, all of them containing at least a little bit of 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.

Much to my dismay, two very 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. Most authorities would never allow me to adopt such 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 the child's parents or close relatives gave their consent. Unfortunately, none of those sites explained what to do 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 and exclaimed:

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

Feeling a little bit surprised, I responded:

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

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

Still feeling surprised, I looked at our clock on the wall, 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 my computer to look up a few facts would take up so much time.

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

"Sorry, sons, but I think I have been too busy with setting up my computer, and then I forgot the time."

My little imp started to chuckle, while he teased me:

"Our 'ancient grandpa' again forgot something important!"

I tried to grab my insolent little 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 just followed both boys to our kitchen, where they immediately started to collect all the necessary ingredients for their healthy lunch.

Soon, all three of us were working together, again 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 again quite tasty!

After enjoying our healthy meal, both boys burped naughtily; and, of course, my own inner child reacted and tried to copy its friends. When our heartfelt laughing ceased, we ended our meal with fresh oranges and three cups of tea, because I had decided to try to get rid of my coffee addiction. This time, I really hoped I would be able to suppress my excessive coffee-thirst before I turned into a coffee bean.

Suddenly, Thomas called his friends from our 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 my boy's real Dad. However, the only 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 'old' man like me, to adopt a young child? Couldn't there be another and 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 a little bit more hope that there might be other options as well.

Around noon, three happy looking boys with sweaty faces stormed into our living room, while John asked me:

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

Chuckling at seeing three happily beaming faces, I responded:

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

"Then, can we... oops sorry, please 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 our too difficult warm water tap, or do I have to help you?"

"DAAAD... You still are no fun!"

Happily, my three sweaty rascals raced upstairs, while teasing and pushing each other to be there first. Still 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 still couldn't find what I was looking for. This was becoming boring!

Half an hour later, my stomach suddenly rumbled loudly, as if telling me it was time to be fed. Chuckling, I shut my computer down and went to my kitchen. Should I try to prepare a healthy dinner for my three bottomless pits and for myself, without waiting for my little cookie and his tasty herbs; to surprise my three rascals?

Only, halfway down my hallway, I suddenly stopped and listened. What was that loud noise, obviously coming from upstairs? What the heck were my three boys doing, after being in our shower stall for at least half an hour? Suddenly feeling curious, I went upstairs, opened the shower room door, and peeked inside...

Then, 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 forceful 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 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 happy 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. 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 young boys. Sweet revenge! 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.

Shivering from coldness, John asked me with a tiny voice:

"Dad? Do you have any dry towels? Ours are all wet..."

Good heavens! Is this what a normal 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 chucked their still dry clothes. Fortunately, they hadn't left their clothes in our now very wet shower room.

In the meantime, I had to use my own 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, all three boys crowded around me, and John wheedled:

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

After I nodded, John raced to our phone in our living room to call a pizzeria. Soon, he returned, with the promise that our pizzas would be delivered within twenty minutes. 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, very different from when I had been scouring the Internet...

After exactly nineteen minutes, my impatient boys couldn't wait any longer. Together, they trotted outside and stared at the closed gate, as if forcing our pizzas to show up immediately. They started to cheer loudly when the 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 greedily 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 quickly hugged me and thanked me for their meal, before they rushed out the backdoor with their skateboards clamped under their arms, promising to be back before dark.

Happily, I started to devour my own rescued pizza, and I brewed my first cup of heavenly tasting coffee. Unfortunately, my too strong coffee addiction had overwhelmed me again. Would I really soon turn into a coffee bean, as everybody else always told me?

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 finally found a workable solution, and I wrote the Internet address down on a piece of paper.

Now, I only had to find a reliable family 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 officially and legally!

Just before nine o'clock, three tired looking boys reentered our house, because Thomas had to go home. He thanked me again for the pizzas, and promised his friends to be back tomorrow after he had done some chores first. John and little Harry walked him to the street, and waved him out until he entered his own home.

In the meantime, I had 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 had turned out to be too strong for me. However, for the first time, I HAD attempted to put a stop to it!

Just before our house became too dark, I asked John:

"John, could you please replace the 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 returned with my old wooden ladder and a brand 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, leaning into my sides as usual.

My little soul mate started to tell about a nice thirteen-year-old boy they had 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 new boy taught little Harry how to do a difficult double flip on his skateboard, and the ice was broken. While they sat down to take 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 told me, with proudly beaming eyes:

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

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

My two boys 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 small country where we had to live for at least three months in a row before I could adopt my boy as my own son.

After some time, two bored boys approached me and comfortably leaned over my shoulders, to have a look at what I was doing. I clicked a new link, and a new 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 some more information.

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

"Do you really want to ADOPT me, Dad?"

Smiling at my boy's over-enthusiasm, I responded:

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

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

A few seconds later, John too leaned into me and stared at me with pleading puppy doe eyes, while he asked:

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

"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 really wanted to adopt John too, in spite of the insurmountable impossibility to adopt him, because he had Eric as his 'legal father'. Couldn't that man without a heart smoke himself to death, preferably before John would be too old to be adopted by me?

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 quite a lot more cuddling and basking in our mutual love and togetherness, we decided to call it a day and go to bed early. I felt a bit tired from searching the Internet for impossible adoptions, and a bit dull from staring at my computer screen for such a long time; and tomorrow would bring another fresh day.

Both boys too felt 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 that 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, which earned me two extra cuddles and a couple more kisses.

Both boys quickly undressed in their own rooms, while I took a nice warm shower now that the light bulb 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, closed their eyes, and nearly immediately fell asleep.

Feeling all mushy and full of love for my two boys, I left their bedrooms and silently tiptoed towards 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 new computer desk, with lots of useful drawers and a sliding computer shelf in the middle, yawn...

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 some 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 tear some edible chunks of meat from their defenseless prey. In sudden panic, I decided to try to kill both baby bears and skin them, before their mother bear 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 alerted 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.

Then, my youngest baby bear teased me, with a huge smile on his happily beaming face:

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

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

"Good morning, Dad; and I am sorry for waking you this early."

Basking in my again welling powerful 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.

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 food!"

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

"Okay, I sincerely promise I will never try to skin you and exchange you for food. By the way, what time is it?"

After basking some 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 new 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 sat down 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 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 of sitting together, John suddenly asked me, with a worried look on his face:

"Dad? Why was Eric calling me a 'bastard child'? And, could I be a real one, because I don't have a real father?"

So, that was what had bothered my 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 was bothering his big brother.

Obviously, my little soul mate had already read my thoughts, because he 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 have 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 hurts your feelings! Now, stop pitying yourself, and only enjoy the pleasant company of both your new Dad and your new brother."

For quite some time, John stared at his little brother, with eyes full of love and gratitude, while his facial expression slowly changed from sadness into understanding and acceptance. Then, he suddenly buried his face into 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:

"Just 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 in the eyes of Eric.

At last, John cried for all the other emotions he had bottled up in his heart and in his mind. Finally, 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 being such a crybaby..."

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

"Next time we are in the supermarket, I will ask Kees to get our newest crybaby 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."

To release John's tension even more, my little therapist started to tickle his ribs, and this action made John's built-in sun break through completely. Only, now, John turned around and started 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 dived onto me in triumph and continued their attacks.

Groaning loudly, I finally begged them for mercy:

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

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

Chuckling, my merciless duo let me go, with the promise to get back to me 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.

Then, my youngest imp looked at our clock and asked:

"Dad? What time do we go to Peter's shop, to get my 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 and losing a headlight...

My actions made my little soul mate tap my shoulder and beg:

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

Fortunately, his 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 still too busy thinking about John's unexpected catharsis.

Just in time, I parked our old car in front of Peter's small studio. This time, my little soul mate was the first one who left his seat and headed 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 for him 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 sudden amazement, we stared at a green copy of little Harry's head, with 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 soon would cover my son's badly 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 waited patiently until we recovered from our initial amazement. Now, Peter took a chair and sat down next to his little client, to teach him 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. Finally, they went to a mirror; where Peter showed my boy how he could attach the flabby rubber onto his burnt face.

At first, my boy 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 closely together, they made its entire inside sticky, careful not to forget any important edges.

Finally, 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 masked face...

Both John and I felt totally 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 his 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 wear your rubber mask for more than four hours at a time, because your skin might become swollen or inflamed. If that ever happens, immediately remove the mask and ask your family doctor for some medicine. He will know how to help you. After removing your sticky mask from your face, always clean it with warm water and a little bit of liquid soap, and put it back onto the green model to keep its shape. Unfortunately, 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 small 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 bestest Dad in the whole world!"

Happily, he puckered his masked lips for a big kiss... but 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 desperate, he whimpered:

"Dad, I cannot feel my lips any more. When I touch them, they suddenly feel as if my mouth is gone..."

Slowly, my boy 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 now hidden behind the flexible rubber. Getting used to wearing a rubber mask always takes some time, because your entire perception of feeling will change behind it. Within a few days, your mask will feel more natural, and I am sure you will soon enough learn to cope with its obvious restrictions and limitations."

My boy started to look a bit ashamed, while he again studied his new rubber face and mumbled:

"Yes, I can 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 new rubber mask for the first time. Now and then, even tall and broad-shouldered 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 very surprised at seeing the flexibility of my boy's rubber mask that nicely moved along with his face and even clearly showed his normal facial expressions!

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

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

Feeling a little bit surprised, I responded:

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

"Well, to be honest, I have taken the liberty to talk about your son's burnt face and body to a colleague, of course without mentioning any names. My colleague happens to know a 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 very expensive..."

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

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

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

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

Finally, I understood 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 sudden 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 want to try 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...

Much to our surprise, my boy just took the package from Peter, without even flinching. Happily, he just dragged the rather heavy box towards the door, where he put it down with a slight groan.

Although still huffing from the effort, my boy plainly refused to let John help him carry his cardboard box. This was HIS green model, and he wanted to carry it all by himself!

After I put 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 with his rubber mask.

At last, 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.

Happily, we buckled up, I started the engine, and we drove off, waving at Peter until we disappeared around the corner.

Directed by John who sat shotgun, we left Peter's small town and drove to a mall in a much bigger town, where we hoped we could buy a nice computer desk for my boy, with lots of useful drawers and a sliding shelf in the middle, exactly as my boy had asked for...

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

During our 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 guidance, we soon arrived at an enormous shopping center. Immediately after I had parked our car, little Harry jumped out and rounded our car towards the sidewalk. Excitedly, he started to look around, again enthusiastically waving at everybody who happened to look in our direction.

Unfortunately, and 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 the 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 the 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 closer, the man demonstratively brought his hand to his already bulging crotch and rubbed it...

At that same moment, I heard a deep guttural growl, coming from John. Looking murderous, my young friend stomped towards the sordid looking man, with fire-shooting eyes and tightly clenched fists, obviously ready to defend his little brother with his own life!

Chuckling inwardly, I thought that Christian turned out to be right, because John really acted 'a 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 this crowded mall.

Well, we didn't need to feel wary, because my little soul mate had already put his new little pug nose high into the air, while he switched on his powerful aura of Aristocracy and ignored the man completely! Therefore, I quickly 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 a lot for his little brother!

At last, my boy seemed to give up his futile efforts. He lowered his head, left us, and slowly 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 gently pulled at my arm, with a look of bewilderment on his face, while he whispered:

"Dad? Why is Harry behaving so strange? Isn't he happy with his beautiful new face?"

Looking back at my confused young friend, I explained:

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

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

"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 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 new computer desk I like most. Will you really buy it for me?"

Fortunately, my boy's built-in sun had started to shine again. His disappointed face had disappeared, he smiled broadly, and he seemed to feel very happy with his perfect choice.

Feeling relieved, John and I followed him to a shiny dark wooden desk, with lots of drawers and cabinets and 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 very 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 new 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 take home and build together according to the enclosed instructions.

In rank, we went downstairs and entered an enormous 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 bored looking man 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, a transporter appeared from a sliding door, carrying three enormous packages. The driver unloaded them one by one, piled them on the floor, and disappeared through the same door without saying a word. 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 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, John came up with a clever solution. He went back to the mall and fetched a couple of used ropes from the stockroom. Working together, we piled all three packages onto the groaning roof of our old car and tied them together.

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 hadn't expected 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 am staying with you for only a few weeks, so I don't really need a desk."

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? Well, 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 start doing most of your homework with us."

"Will I really still have my room in your house after school starts? How can you be so sure?"

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

"Well, I really hope your clairvoyant abilities will be correct again, as they always are... Okay, Dad, Harry and Jack; 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 blessed to have my two 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 examined 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 desk.

As could be expected, John decided on exactly the same dark wooden 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 respect, John exclaimed:

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

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

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

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

"Actually, we've returned here 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 can be proud of your Dad!"

Nodding vigorously, my boys told the clerk they totally agreed! After I thanked 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 way too heavy load on its roof, it didn't collapse...

Little Harry brought the cart back, returned, and handed me my coin. Now, we entered our car, buckled up, and went home. Of course, because of the way too heavy load on its dangerously sagging roof, I tried to drive very slowly and carefully. Although our old car groaned and moaned at every turn, it still survived.

On our way home, I saw a small drive-in restaurant along the road, and decided to stop for a rest and a drink. Very carefully, I parked our loudly groaning car into a tiny parking lot, where we first checked its more and more sagging roof. Feeling reassured, my boys and I turned around and headed for the small 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!

Immediately, my boy started to dance with sheer happiness, while he waved back at the waving visitors and exclaimed:

"Did you see that, Dad and John? Those ladies waved back at me, and they also 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, now and then waving and smiling at someone 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. He slumped down on his chair, produced a couple of heartfelt sighs, and started to pout; without sensing that John already glared at his pouting little brother with angry looks.

Suddenly, John punched my pouting boy's arm, and hissed:

"Why are you behaving so selfish and unappreciative, instead of being only thankful for your rubber mask? Do you really miss all the former attention? Then, just 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 deep sighs, but John still didn't react. Then, slowly, he rose from his seat and left the restaurant without looking back. John tried to follow his leaving little brother, but I stopped him just in time and explained:

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

Looking very relieved, John nodded his consent; 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 probably thought they could get some food.

Now and then, my boy kicked a few pebbles to the ducks, who still thought it was food and tried to catch them. Slowly, tears started to drip from his teary 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.

After a long time of sitting still and now and then kicking pebbles towards the ducks, at last, my boy's defeated posture started to change. By reading his enveloping aura, I could sense how my little Shaman started to shut off his unwanted emotions and forcefully increased his Inner Power. Soon, his always-happy aura showed up again, while his built-in sun restarted to shine. After regaining his composure, my little Shaman kicked the last pebbles towards the ducks, rose upright, left the pond, and slowly returned to the restaurant.

Now, my initial doubts disappeared completely. Obviously, John and I had done 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! Happily, 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 still had to let him decide for himself when to open up again.

Within a minute, my boy forcefully pushed himself against my chest, and started to cry. Now was the right 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 my boy's small head, I asked him:

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

My boy nodded vigorously, still looking ashamed and trying to make himself invisible in my arms. A second 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 sorry, John, and I really behaved selfish and unappreciative. It sounds stupid, but you were right and I really missed all the extra attention! Wow, big brother, you saw straight through me..."

My boy slid off my lap, trotted 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 only sat together, without uttering a word.

Suddenly, my little soul mate started to fidget, while he told John he had to pee 'terribly'. Hurriedly, he left John's lap, slid down onto the floor, and started looking around for a bathroom, immediately followed by his protective looking big brother.

While my two boys 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 and wet faces. Chuckling, little Harry handed me my now dripping wet handkerchief. Although I tried to look angry, I didn't seem to perform too 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, we returned to our car, where I spread my wet handkerchief out onto its dashboard, to let it dry in the sunlight. Then, we buckled up, I started the engine, and we drove home, although still very slowly and carefully, because of the way too heavy load on the again groaning and creaking roof of our old car.

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

"Sorry, Dad, for being such a nuisance to you."

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

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

"Why do you think you have been 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 still very proud of you and of the mature way you handled your argument with John."

"Really? Thank you, Dad, for again making me feel good; and I still 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 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 terribly warm and sweaty, as if Peter has used too much of that brown stuff. As soon as we get home, I will 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? Within a few days, he has to go back for his next surgery, because his doctors want to give him a slightly 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 Harry decides what we should do next."

"Okay."

6. Heavy packages and a helpful new friend.

Soon, our own street showed up, and both boys unfastened their safety belts in advance. 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."

Quickly, 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 John and me, he raced up to us and asked me, almost crying:

"Dad, could you please help me? My mask is too sticky now, 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 from sudden relief, he splashed his itching face with even more water, while murmuring:

"Nnnggg... That feels better!"

Within a minute, my boy's wet face showed up again, looking very relieved now that its skin 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 fetched my boy's heavy 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 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 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 a creepy film."

After we returned to our kitchen, I brewed a nicely smelling and heavenly tasting cup of real coffee, while my boys fetched colas and robbed our refilled cookie jar. Sitting together on our usual couch, we smiled broadly at each other, feeling happy and content in each other's 'pleasant company'. When we had finishing our drinks and eaten some more cookies, we decided to go to work and relieve our old car from the too heavy cargo on its sagging roof.

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.

Still 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 their side upstairs first and steer the heavy package around the corner, while I would push it up from beneath by using both hands.

Well, 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 upwards.

Step by step, my boys and I lugged and pushed the unmanageable thing upstairs; struggling and panting with the effort, while trying to keep our 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 the wall and nearly slipped out of our hands! Fortunately, we were able to rescue it and keep it stable, 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 certainly didn't want to ask Eric for help...

After gathering 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 our package upright against a wall.

Now being totally out of breath, we just slumped down onto the carpeted floor. 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 go downstairs and drink some cold and refreshing water first."

Sweating and feeling tired, we ambled downstairs and entered our kitchen, where both boys first 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 John and little Harry:

"Do you need a helping hand?"

Without waiting for their 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.

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, with a nice suntan, 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 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 and not even greet me?

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

"Let's carry our remaining packages upstairs. With all 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 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. Perhaps, he didn't want to help a bearded 'ancient grandpa'?

Soon, we had carried all five remaining packages inside 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 my boy's room.

Only, all the time, the new boy 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 this boy's problem? Was he really afraid of this 'bearded grandpa'? Only, why should he be? I supposed 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 picked up my thoughts, because he suggested:

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

While nodding in 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 what felt as 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 young boy, to feel frightened like this? This was an extremely wounded child! 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 the boy 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 teasingly used my little joke on him.

For a 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 bed can carry at least an elephant without leaking!"

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

Teasingly, my little soul mate dived towards the new boy's legs, to make 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 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 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 our 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.

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, including your tired old body..."

Well, I really felt tired, after all that lugging and walking up and down the stairs. Therefore, I smiled at John and did as he told me. After unlacing my shoes and kicking them under a chair, I went to my double waterbed and slumped down next to John.

As usual, John and little Harry immediately crawled onto my stomach, while playfully pushing each other and competing for the best place. Again feeling 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 thought 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 several 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 now rapidly blinking 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 very sad!

Although I felt sorry for the sad 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 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 obviously had 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 trying to defend it with his own life? Or, had my inventive young friend constructed some even more effective kind of water gun, and were they now shooting at each other?

Feeling curious, I left my bed to take a look at what my three boys were doing. Of course, I also wanted to know what they had done with our hopefully still dry towels... Therefore, I went to our noisy shower room, and silently opened its door.

This time, I was greeted by a truly 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 all the plastic cups that flew through the air and landed at his feet.

Then, 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.

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 that 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, looking even more 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 this boy 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 had stopped his attacks and stared at the new boy with curious eyes; while my little Shaman inquisitively looked at his new friend, as if reading the boy's suddenly frightened thoughts and trying to understand them...

"What’s up, Davy?" my boy asked his new friend, with sudden concern in his bright blue eyes.

Suddenly, the new boy jumped up from the floor and bolted 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, while pushing me into a doorpost in his 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 two remaining boys and I stared at each other with bewildered faces. For heaven's sake, what could have happened? Why did their new friend suddenly run away like this? Could I have done something wrong, obviously without realizing what I was doing?

Two very distressed looking boys silently dried each other, this time without their normal happy teasing and bantering. After they put on their clothes, they silently followed me downstairs. In our living room, we just 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 Davy ran away, Dad, but he seems to be afraid of you! At first, he didn't want to join us in our shower, although he felt just as sweaty and stinky as we were. At last, he joined us, but only after we convinced him you wouldn't wake up for at least the next hour. I asked him why he had tried to avoid you all the time, but he refused to tell me anything. Finally, he started to feel more at ease and really got into our play, until you suddenly showed up in the doorway and Davy freaked out and ran away."

Still feeling more and more uneasy, I asked John:

"This is very strange. Why would anybody be afraid of ME?"

With a nervous chuckle, John responded:

"I suppose 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, to find out why he suddenly ran away from us without putting his clothes on first..."

My little soul mate nodded his agreement, and he and John left me and went to our hallway, where they quickly put on their shoes. With their arms around each other, as usual, they trotted outside and took off to Davy's house. In his sudden hurry, my little soul mate even forgot to put on his rubber mask to hide his burnt face.

7. Befriending a badly traumatized new boy.

Still feeling numb and uneasy, I went to my kitchen to brew a cup of strong coffee. Then, I started to think. What the heck could be happening to me, since I had started living in Jack's former house in this small village? Why, for heaven's sake, did I seem to tumble into sort of a rat's nest, every time I met a new neighborhood child?

First, I had to help a burnt little Gypsy Crown Prince regain his self-consciousness and be unafraid of showing his 'freaky' face to others. Then, I had to help my young friend John cope with being Eric's 'bastard child' and losing his real Dad. Now, I seemed to tumble into Davy's strange fears of bearded grownups...

Was this what our 'psychic medium', Christian, had meant, when he told me: 'Soon, you will meet a third young boy, and your Spirit Guide asks you to help him with his difficulties and to mentor him as well'? Would really Jack want me to help Davy overcome his strange difficulties that seemed to be centered on me as a bearded grownup? That is, if Davy ever brought up the courage to come back, after fleeing away from me when I showed up in our shower stall.

How many more troubled kids would follow, and why was our Spirit Guide sending only troubled young boys to me, and never a girl? Feeling a bit frustrated, I returned to my living room. Sitting on my couch, I closed my eyes and started to recall what had happened. By reliving everything, I hoped my efforts would give me some more insight into what my newest boy, Davy, needed from me...

First, I recalled the moment I saw Davy for the first time, when a skateboarding young boy showed up in our driveway and offered us a 'helping hand'. He seemed to be a nice boy, with an open and curious face that showed a lot of intelligence in his dark brown eyes. I supposed he was the same boy who taught little Harry to do a difficult double flip on his skateboard and immediately became their new friend. Both John and my little soul mate seemed to like him very much, and Davy seemed to feel at ease in their company.

Only, while Davy was around me, he avoided looking at me, and he didn't even greet me or tell me his name! He helped us carry our packages upstairs and turned out to be a valuable helper and a hard worker. Only, Davy always went to John's side and never joined me at my side, as if he tried to avoid any bodily contact with me. Why was that? Could Davy be afraid of me, although he had never met me and still didn't know anything about me? Or, was Davy trying to avoid any unknown grownups, perhaps because he only felt at ease with young friends who were about his own age? If so, this strange new boy had a serious problem!

Now, I also recalled John and little Harry, entering my bedroom and slumping down on our waterbed to take some rest. Although their new friend wanted to follow them, he stopped in the doorway and hesitated, probably because he suddenly sensed my presence behind his back. For a split second, he turned around and stared straight into my eyes. At that same moment, I felt shocked into my deepest core! Seldom had I sensed so much pain and sheer desperation in such a young child. What could have happened to this desperate boy, to be able to feel afraid like this?

Because I felt very tired and needed my rest too, I discarded my strange feelings and decided to have a closer look at them later on. I entered our double waterbed, where my boys immediately crawled onto my stomach and started to romp and cuddle, as usual. Enjoying our mutual love and close togetherness very much, I kissed the tops of their heads. Then, I suddenly heard a faint sobbing sound that came from Davy! Again, I saw an enormous amount of pain and frustration in Davy's teary eyes. Only, this time, I also sensed a deep longing in his outstretching aura, as if he wanted to join our shared cuddle but didn't know how to initiate such an intimate contact.

For a second, I stopped my mental pictures, to have a closer look at Davy's outstretching aura. Why had Davy wanted to be cuddled too, although, at the same time, he seemed to be scared to death and didn't even dare to look at this bearded grownup? Feeling more and more curious, I 'tuned in' into Davy's protective aura...

Immediately, an enormous wave of pure sadness and desperation overwhelmed me and nearly made me choke up! This young child felt totally hopeless, and absolutely didn't know what he should do or how he should react, at seeing my boys' mutual love and our close togetherness. Clearly, Davy too wanted to be held and cuddled by a loving and caring grownup! Only, why would this strange boy want to be cuddled by me, instead of by his own parents? Didn't he have his own father; or didn't his father love his own child?

For heaven's sake, what terrible events could have hurt the poor boy this much? And, would I ever be able to help this severely troubled boy, because he was afraid of me and clearly didn't trust me? Because I couldn't find any satisfying answers, I went on recalling. I had felt too tired to react on my own feelings, and therefore closed my eyes and almost immediately fell asleep.

Half an hour later, I woke up and went to our shower stall, to take a quick look at what my cheering boys were doing. Sitting on the floor next to John, the new boy seemed to have the time of his life, nearly outdoing John in shooting corks at little Harry's plastic fort. That is, until my little soul mate saw me, asked me to help him, and Davy panicked and curled up into a tight ball!

At that moment, Davy looked like a frightened deer, trapped in the headlights, facing its imminent death. First, he cringed away and tried to disappear into a corner of our shower stall. Then, he jumped upright, dived past me, and stormed out of our house, on the way snatching his clothes from our chest of drawers. What the heck made Davy run away, obviously without any reason other than suddenly seeing me? This didn't make any sense! What should I do now?

Fortunately, I suddenly sensed the well-known feeling of having my own little brother around me. At that same moment, I started to feel drowsy, while an unearthly bright light started to shine around me as if coming from everywhere. Was our Spirit Guide, Jack, again pulling me into his 'induced trance', as he had done a few times before? Happily, I slumped down on my couch and closed my eyes, because I hoped that Jack would be able to tell me some more about the new boy's strange behavior around me. While drifting off into Jack's induced trance, I again basked in his overwhelming feelings of Pure Cosmic Love that engulfed me and warmed my soul.

Soon, I heard Jack's warm and soulful voice, explaining:

"My dear brother; this time, you really listened to your Own Heart, and therefore did all the right things. Soon, your new boy will show up again, because he needs your help to overcome his remaining fears. This boy is badly traumatized, but he still has a beautiful Inside full of Pure Love and a heart-warming soul. Please, love your new friend as much as you can, because he desperately needs your fatherly affection. Once he starts to trust you and opens up to you, he too will join your steadily growing family. May our Supreme Being be with you and again help you with everything. Be blessed!"

Basking in Jack's warm waves of Pure Cosmic Love, I opened my eyes and looked at my broadly smiling Spirit Guide who once had been my own little brother. Again, Jack stretched his hands out towards me and engulfed me with even more Pure Cosmic Love and Healing Power. While his unearthly bright light slowly disappeared, I fell down on my couch with a slight thud, and woke up from Jack's induced trance, already feeling much happier! Yes, Jack could count on me, and I would do what I could to help my new young friend, by enveloping him in my own Universal Love and fatherly affection.

How many more children would show up in my life, to help them our of their rat's nest? Chuckling, I went to my kitchen, to brew my next cup of coffee. Only, before I reached my kitchen, my irritatingly loud doorbell rang, its harsh sound reverberating through the entire house. I absolutely had to do something about the wicked thing, before I tore it from the wall and smashed it into tiny pieces!

Chuckling about my 'dormant vandalistic disposition', I went to my front door and opened it. On our porch, both John and little Harry waited impatiently for me to open the door. Smiling broadly, they bumped into me on purpose, with mischievous grins on their proud looking faces! Behind them, a sad looking woman and a timid looking Davy hesitantly climbed the few steps to our porch.

The dark-haired woman wiped her teary eyes with an already crumpled tissue, while she asked me:

"Please, sir, could I have a few words in private with you?"

While John and little Harry dived past me, I responded:

"Yes; of course! Please, follow me to our kitchen, and would you care for a drink? John and Harry, could you please take Davy to our living room, and stay there until we show up again?"

Waving a couple of colorful CD boxes at me, John answered:

"Okay, Dad, and you may take all the time you need, because Harry and I are planning to play these computer games we snatched... oops, sorry... we've borrowed from Davy. Come on, Davy; let's start playing them on Dad's computer."

Happily smiling at me, John went to our living room; followed by little Harry who obviously was very eager to play the computer games that he once told me he liked so much. Hesitatingly, Davy followed my boys, while staring at his shoes and still carefully keeping a safe distance from me. The woman followed me into our kitchen.

Politely, I offered her a folding chair to sit on, before I asked:

"Would you care for coffee, tea, or maybe hot chocolate?"

"Could I have a cup of coffee, please? And, my name is Mary."

"Okay, fresh coffee is brewing. And, my name is Harry."

"I know, because Davy already calls you 'Big Harry'. Yesterday evening, my son returned home and told me he made two new friends while skating around the block; and he had heard them talking about their 'new Dad' with so much love and respect that he nearly started to cry! Davy is our only child; but his 'father' is in prison for a very long time, because he always abused his own son from a very young age. From the first day on, my former husband so cleverly hid his sexual aberrations from me that I never suspected anything. Davy never told me what terrible things his 'father' did to him while they were alone; because he was made to believe that every 'loving father' always did these horrible things to his own children..."

Mary wiped her teary eyes with her tissue before she went on:

"Around a year ago, Davy started to bleed from his anus, but he felt too ashamed to tell me the truth about what had happened. Therefore, I took my son to a hospital, where the doctors told me that my child had been abused and also raped. At that moment, my whole world fell into ruins! Against my will, the hospital informed our local police, and they started an investigation and questioned Davy. Under their pressure, my son told them what his 'father' had done to him, and the officers arrested my husband. After a very humiliating process, my former husband was sentenced to prison for a long time, without seeing his son ever again. Only, in spite of what he had to endure, Davy still misses a loving father in his life..."

Now, I understood why Davy was afraid of me! Of course, after he saw me romping and cuddling with John and with my little soul mate; in his eyes, I had resembled another 'loving father'! Therefore, he absolutely didn't trust me, because he was made to believe that every 'loving father' always abused his own children...

In helpless frustration, I balled my fists, while I cursed that beast that had done such terrible things to his own son. I also hoped I would never meet that 'man'; because I didn't want to be a murderer!

Still feeling angry and frustrated, I again promised I would do everything that I could to help my abused new friend, Davy, who never knew a REAL father in his young life and therefore was afraid of every 'loving Dad' or 'friendly man'.

In the meantime, Mary continued to sob; and I offered her some fresh tissues and another cup of coffee. In silence, we drank our drinks, while Mary tried to pull herself together. At last, she blew her nose in the umpteenth tissue before she went on:

"After your boys told Davy so many positive things about their 'new Dad', my son wanted to see you for himself! This morning, he took his skateboard and started to surf around the neighborhood, hoping to meet your boys again. A few hours later, he was close to desperation, because he couldn't find them and was afraid he would never see them again. Half an hour ago, he suddenly returned home, carrying his clothes in his hands and crying his heart out. After calming down, he told me he had helped your boys and you carrying some heavy packages upstairs. All the time, you had been friendly to Davy, and you even treated him as if he were your own child!"

Again, Mary blew her nose in a tissue, before she went on:

"After working hard, Davy and your two boys laid down on your double waterbed to take some rest. Then, you joined them; and, very much to Davy's surprise, both John and Harry crawled onto your stomach! Although you embraced them and kissed them, you didn't do any improper things to them like touching their privates, as Davy's own 'father' undoubtedly would have done. At that moment, Davy desperately wanted to be cuddled too, although he also was afraid of being raped again. While you fell asleep, Davy joined your sweaty boys in their shower to play some funny water game. That is, until you suddenly showed up in their shower room, and Davy relived all the times his own 'father' entered his shower to abuse him! In sudden panic, my son ran away from you and fled from your house. Now, Davy is afraid you will be mad at him for running away without saying goodbye, and that you will not want to see him ever again..."

Again wiping her eyes with the next tissue, Mary continued:

"A few minutes ago, John and Harry showed up at our house, to ask Davy why he suddenly fled away from them. Helped by me, Davy hesitantly told them that his own 'father' always showed up in his shower to abuse him. Your boys reacted very surprised, and John immediately assured Davy that you are the nicest man in the world and will never abuse or harm anybody! Then, Harry with his burnt face almost forced Davy and me to follow him to your house, so that I could see you for myself and have a clarifying talk with you!"

For a long time, I just didn't know what to answer, because I never thought that John would call me 'the nicest man in the world'. Had my little soul mate really forced Trudy and Davy to follow him to my house? Chuckling inwardly, I imagined my little Gypsy Crown Prince switching on his powerful aura of Pure Aristocracy and summoning his unwilling subjects to follow him to our house.

If only I had known all these horrible facts about Davy before! Fortunately, it is never too late; and Davy HAD returned to me, exactly as Jack had promised during my induced trance.

Feeling even more determined to help Davy, I asked Mary:

"Now that I know what horrible things have happened to Davy, I wish I had known his abusing history before! However, it is never too late. Shall we now go to the living room, and take a look at what my boys are doing with Davy's computer games?"

Together, Mary and I went to our living room, where Davy sat in front of our computer. Enthusiastically, he jumped up and down on his chair, while playing some wild monster game. Both John and little Harry sat next to Davy and stared in awe at his obvious skills. Every time Davy defeated the umpteenth monster, they cheered loudly!

During a short pause, my little Shaman seemed to sense our presence, because he looked up from the game, saw Mary and me, and a happy smile adorned his face. Quickly, he jumped up and raced towards me, in his sudden hurry almost overturning his chair.

Jumping up at me, to let me catch him in midair, he shouted:

"Dad, these are the coolest games that we have ever seen! Davy has already installed them on our computer, so that we can play them whenever we want to. I hope that is okay with you?"

Smiling at my boy's obvious enthusiasm, I responded:

"Of course that is okay with me! Did you thank Davy for bringing his games and letting you play them?"

Looking a bit offended, my little soul mate only stared at me as if I had told him a very bad joke. How in the world could I ever ask any young child such a horrible question? Didn't I remember my own youth and how silly I could have felt?

Chuckling at seeing my boy's indignant face, I pulled him even closer to my chest and kissed his small forehead and tiny nose. After playfully nibbling at his right earlobe, I let him slide down onto his own feet. Then, I looked at Davy...

My 'new boy' had turned around in his chair, and he now stared at little Harry and me with open mouth. Slowly, his face turned a deep red, while his dark brown eyes filled with tears. This time, he didn't avert his eyes, but he looked straight into mine, almost as if he wanted me to see his tears! Again, I saw the same deep longing in his eyes, as if he desperately wanted to be held and cuddled too, despite his fears. Only, he didn't know how to initiate our first contact...

While sending Davy all the Universal Love that I could muster, I smiled at him while I told him:

"Hi, Davy! It feels good to see you here again, and I am sure that John and Harry will be very happy with your computer games. Now, I have a question for all three boys. Who wants a cola?"

Two enthusiastic hands went up immediately, slowly followed by a hesitating third one. Fortunately, I had again listened to my Own Heart, so that I knew exactly what I could do to help Davy leave at least some of his fears and shyness behind.

Smilingly, I asked the hesitating third hand:

"Davy, would you mind helping me in the kitchen?"

As if I could have slapped him, Davy's hesitant face immediately changed into a frightened expression! Clearly, he still didn't trust me; and, of course, he also didn't know what I wanted him to do. What terrible things could happen to him in my kitchen, where he would be alone with this 'loving father'? Stealthily, he looked at his mother for help, but Mary only smiled back at him. What should he do now? Hesitatingly, he left his chair, clearly feeling very unsure.

In the meantime, my little soul mate had left me and returned to our computer, now looking at me with admiration in his eyes. John too sent me an approving look, smiling at me while silently sending me his love. Mary looked surprised, but she seemed to understand what I tried to do, to help her son get rid of his strange fears.

Slowly, I ambled towards our kitchen, on my way beckoning Davy to follow me... Very hesitatingly, Davy followed me, still looking wary while keeping a safe distance from me.

After we entered my kitchen, I asked my hesitating new boy:

"Davy, could you please get the cola from our refrigerator and pour everybody a glass? In the meantime, I will brew more coffee. An empty tray is over there, and clean glasses are in this cupboard."

The sudden relief poured from Davy's face, while his dark brown eyes started to beam again. After offering me what looked like a thankful smile, he almost danced towards our refrigerator. Carefully, he filled three glasses with fizzing cola and put them onto the tray.

In the meantime, I brewed Mary and myself another cup of coffee. I put our coffee cups onto the tray, next to Davy's glasses, and added a jar of sugar lumps and a small container of milk.

While spontaneously ruffling Davy's dark brown hair, I told him:

"Thank you again for your much appreciated help, my friend, also for helping us carrying our heavy packages upstairs. Now, could you please get us some more cookies from the cupboard on the left?"

This time, Davy looked up at me with some more trust in his dark brown eyes, while a faint smile appeared on his face! Instinctively, I put my arms around his firm frame and pulled him into a welcoming hug. For a split second, Davy leaned into me, before he hastily dived from under my arms and skipped away to get the cookie jar.

WOW! There was our first bodily contact! Now, I only had to be very careful not to rush things to much... Walking together, Davy and I returned to my living room, while I carried our filled tray and Davy proudly carried our refilled cookie jar.

Inside our room, I put the tray onto the table and distributed the drinks, while my new helper served the cookies. Of course, at seeing our cookie jar, both John and little Harry immediately left their monster game and joined us. Sitting on our couch and two easy chairs, we drank our drinks and nibbled on our tasty cookies.

After sipping our drinks and having some small talk, John helpfully put our empty cups and glasses onto the tray, and told Davy and little Harry to follow him to our kitchen. Teasing each other and bumping into each other on purpose, my three boys disappeared into our hallway, and John closed the door behind.

I supposed that my tidy young friend would want to wash our cups and glasses. Of course, he easily could be up to something else...

Staring at me with almost adoration in her eyes, Mary exclaimed:

"I don't know what you have done to Davy in your kitchen, but my son suddenly looks much happier than ever before! For the first time since his abusive father was arrested and went to jail, my son's eyes are beaming again, and he even smiled at you!"

Feeling a bit surprised, but also proud of myself, I responded:

"Well; as far as I know, I've only asked Davy to help me with our colas and the cookie jar..."

"That might be true; but, whatever you have done to my son, please go on with it!"

8. Helping Davy defeating his strange fears.

Within a few minutes, three happy looking boys followed each other into our living room. As usual, my little soul mate immediately crawled onto my lap, while John slumped down next to me and leaned into my right side. After some hesitation, Davy carefully sat down at my left side; but he still kept some safe distance from me, although he looked longingly at his two cuddling friends...

While showing me his best puppy doe-eyes, John wheedled:

"Dad? This evening, Harry and I want to put our new computer desks together, so that we can use them tomorrow. Please, could Davy help us and perhaps eat dinner with us? He already told us that he is very technical and likes to build complex things."

"Of course, Davy may help you and eat dinner with us if he wants to! Only, I am sure we have to ask his mother first. Mary, would you care to join us and have dinner with us this evening?"

Still looking thankful, Mary responded:

"I am very sorry, but I have to take a rain check. Some other day will be fine; but, tonight, I already have an appointment. Of course, Davy may always eat here and help your boys, anytime he wants. Could you please send him home around nine o'clock?"

"Yes, that is fine with me. Only... Davy, do you really WANT to eat here and help John and Harry with their computer desks?"

This time, Davy definitely beamed! Obviously, my new boy felt elated to be treated as a friend and to be invited to eat dinner with us. Unexpectedly, he flung himself towards me, pushed little Harry out of the way, and threw his strong arms around my neck. Without thinking, he offered me a fierce hug and a big kiss!

A split second later, he turned deep red and hastily retreated, as if he felt too surprised by his own daring outburst. Blindly, he left our couch, raced to the waiting computer, and resumed his monster game.

This time, I could think of only one single word to express my inwardly welling feelings of intense gratitude: WOW!

Then, Mary wanted to go home, because she had to dress up for dinner. My three boys and I walked her to our front door and waved her out. Davy offered his Mom a kiss and promised her to be a good boy, always listen to Big Harry, and return home in time. I promised Mary to take good care of her child while he was here. Standing on our porch, we waved Mary out until she disappeared around a corner.

A second later, my three musketeers slung their arms around each other's shoulders and raced back to our living room and their waiting monster game. This time, my little soul mate sat in front of our computer screen and chased the nasty monsters away, cheered on by John and Davy. Although my boy wasn't as good at the game as Davy had been, he seemed to be a fast learner. After a while, all three boys started to feel too bored to fight any more nasty monsters, and they decided to try out another new game.

Suddenly, I remembered Peter's business card with the address and phone number of my boy's 'face clinic' on it! First, I asked my boys to be silent and wait with their next game until I ended my phone call. Then, I dialed the phone number from the card. A nice sounding female operator answered the phone and asked me some preliminary questions. Then, she put me through to one of their attending surgeons, who wanted to ask me his own questions.

The surgeon seemed to be truly interested in my son's burns; and he immediately started to ask me many things I had never thought of before. Which part of my son's body had third degree burns, and how did his scars and wild flesh look? Could he still feel all the important senses like pressure, touch, and temperature? How many skin operations had he had in his past, and where exactly had his surgeons operated on? Did his burns and scars restrain him in any of his bodily movements, and how and when had he to be careful?

Of course, I tried to answer the surgeon's questions as precisely as I could. Now and then, I asked my intently listening little soul mate and his also listening big brother for confirmation, to be sure.

At last, the surgeon seemed to be satisfied; and he asked me to bring my son in for a thorough physical. From what I had told him, he was reasonably sure he would be able to help my son get at least a somewhat better looking face and body. However, he wanted to test and examine him thoroughly first, before making any promises. He put me through to his assistant; and we made an appointment for the day after tomorrow around twelve o'clock.

After I put my phone back onto its cradle, my enthusiastic little soul mate jumped up at me and shouted:

"YESSS, finally I will get my REAL new face! Thank you for phoning that face clinic, Dad, and I feel so happy..."

Happily, he threw himself into my arms and started to cry from sheer enthusiasm. For a long time, I cuddled my enthusiastic boy in my arms, while gently kissing his unruly blond hair. I really hoped and prayed that his surgeon would be able to give him the beautiful new face and nicer skin he deserved!

Only, how would my enthusiastic boy react if, after going through his physical, his surgeon told him he couldn't help him? Wouldn't it be better for my boy, and for me, to play it safe and ask for a second opinion first, before making any important decisions?

Then, I recalled what Christian had promised, about our Ancestors carefully planning my boy's future: 'Your King of Ancestors Friend promises again that you WILL get a new face!' So far, our Spirit Friends had NOT disappointed us...

From the corners of my eyes, I saw Davy, who slowly turned around in his chair and now stared at my happily cuddling little soul mate and me, wide-eyed, with a reddening face and longing eyes. His outstretching aura told me that Davy desperately wanted to be held and cuddled too; but he didn't know how to initiate such an intimate contact with a 'nice man' and a 'loving father'. Probably, no 'friendly grownup' had ever cuddled Davy without ulterior motives.

Again, my heart went out to the poor child who never had a real father who really loved him. First, I let my little soul mate slide down onto the floor, while I told him in my mind that I loved him dearly but also wanted to help his new friend. I was sure he had picked up my thoughts, because he smiled back at me with very much love in his eyes, and leaned against my side without protest.

From against my side, my boy looked up at me, while his beautiful blue orbs stared straight into my eyes. Without using any words, I suddenly knew exactly what my boy wanted to tell me, as if he could have talked to me in my mind. My little soul mate only wanted to help his scared new friend overcome his strange fears of being intimate with a 'too nice grownup'. And, he wasn't jealous at all, for temporarily leaving his place to his new friend.

Today, I finally found out how my little Shaman could have 'talked' to John without using any words! Clearly, he could project his 'intentions' into our minds, so that we picked them up and translated them into words or into clarifying pictures.

In the meantime, I had already opened my heart towards Davy, to send him as much Universal Love as I was able to muster. Did I really feel Jack and several other Spirit Friends, helping us by sending Davy their own powerful Cosmic Love?

For a second, my too analytical mind started to doubt again. Would I really be able to accomplish in a few minutes' time what normally took a couple of months? Then, I stopped thinking, and again decided to listen only to what my Own Heart told me.

Invitingly opening my arms towards my 'new boy', I asked him:

"Davy, could you please come here and join our shared cuddle? Of course, you too have earned an enormous bear hug, for helping us with our heavy packages and for making John and Harry happy with your computer games."

Almost immediately, Davy cringed down in his chair, while the blood left his suddenly paling face and he stared at me with a shocked expression and severe doubt in his dark brown eyes. Obviously, he again remembered his own 'father', who clearly used to be 'nice' to his son before he started to abuse him.

Again, Davy looked like a frightened deer that was caught in the lamplights of an approaching car. Was I going too fast, in my eagerness to help my new friend open up? Then, I felt my little soul mate switch on his powerful Shaman abilities. Obviously, my boy again read my thoughts, found out what I had planned to do, and decided to help me free Davy from his remaining fears. Immediately, he started to send Davy his own waves of Compassion and Cosmic Love, while urging his new friend to open up to me and trust me.

Within a few seconds, Davy's excessive fears started to subside. Slowly, the blood returned into his face, while his frightened stare started to soften. Hesitantly, he left his chair and shuffled towards me, while intently staring into my eyes. By reading his protective aura, I could sense that Davy really wanted to trust me, despite his still remaining fears of being abused by a 'loving father'.

Slowly, he shuffled towards my little soul mate and me, coming closer and closer, until his body nearly touched mine and I could feel his body warmth. Next to me, he stopped again, still not trusting me completely, but forcing himself to stay at my side.

Still sending Davy as much Universal Love as I could bring forth, I gently folded my arms around his firm frame and tried to pull him into a bear hug. Only, immediately, his body stiffened again, and I saw his old fears returning into his eyes. Clearly, I had to be very patient with this so terribly damaged boy, who again only saw a 'nice grownup' who tried to abuse him.

Fortunately, Davy didn't withdraw completely, and I saw that as a hopeful sign. Perhaps, I would really be able to help this terrified boy within a few minutes. Only, how should I go on from here? Please, my Beloved Ancestors and Spirit Friends, help me...

Behind our backs, John had silently left his computer chair and tiptoed towards Davy. Now, he opened his strong arms and forcefully pushed his scared new friend straight into my stomach.

WOW! This was exactly the extra help that Davy needed to overcome his remaining fears. What a thoughtful boy was John; and what wisdom in such a relatively young child! He too wasn't jealous at all, but only wanted to help his new friend overcome his strange fears. Again, I felt very grateful and extremely blessed to have these two lovable young helpers in my life.

For a few seconds, Davy tried to fight against John's powerful pressure and my enveloping bear hug, as if he wanted to escape from our capturing arms. Then, he seemed to give up his fight, heaved a deep sigh, and literally clamped himself against my chest! Wildly, he threw his arms around my waist and tried to disappear into my enveloping aura, while he started to cry his heart out.

Yesss! This was Davy's emotional release that I had hoped for! Finally, he started to give up his fight against our combined Tender Loving Care, and he also started to accept me as a really loving and caring grownup who NOT wanted to abuse him.

Immediately, John clamped his arms around Davy and me, and pushed his friend even further into my stomach. My little soul mate clamped his arms around Davy and me, while I put my arms around all of us and pulled my flock even closer to my chest. Working closely together, my boys and I started to send Davy all our combined Love and encouragement that we could bring forth.

Davy started to absorb our combined love like a human sponge; while he now cried, sobbed, and laughed at the same time. I could clearly sense him giving up his remaining resistances and fears, while melting more and more into our combined group cuddle. I also clearly felt Jack and several other Spirit Friends around us, joining our shared cuddle while engulfing us with their own powerful Cosmic Love.

While basking in our combined Universal and Cosmic Love and enjoying our intense group hug, Davy's sobs soon started to diminish. However, now that he felt so much better, he didn't want to leave our heartwarming group cuddle any more! He only clamped onto us even more, as if he was afraid of leaving our combined Love and unwilling to break our intimate contact too early.

A few minutes later, my little soul mate started to fidget and jump up and down. His enveloping aura felt a little bit worried; therefore I supposed he needed some fresh air, after being in our powerful group hug for such a long time... Then, my boy uttered, while trying to wrestle free and dive from under our arms:

"Sorry for leaving our bear hug too early, but I have to pee terribly, and I've already nearly wet my pants..."

Looking a bit naughty, John tried to tease his little brother:

"Next time, we will first put diapers on you."

While sending his big brother a death look, my boy groaned:

"John, you are NOT funny!"

Then, he hastily scurried away and raced to our bathroom, while desperately squeezing his little boyhood with both hands. Of course, we all started to laugh at the funny sight, even Davy.

After my boy returned into our living room, looking relieved, I asked Davy what kind of healthy food he liked most for dinner. That turned out to be macaroni with tomatoes and cheese! Both John and our little cookie agreed; so we went to our kitchen, where all three boys immediately started to prepare the necessary ingredients.

My little cookie cooked the macaroni, John frittered the onions, Davy sliced a few tomatoes, and I divided some cheese into small cubes to let it melt easier. While cooking the macaroni, our little chef left our kitchen through the backdoo,r to fetch some tasty herbs from his own small garden in our backyard.

Of course, a curious looking Davy wanted to know:

"What are you going to do outside, now that your macaroni and cheese is nearly ready?"

"Just follow me; and I'll show you what I want to do..."

Two minutes later, both boys returned, carrying a couple of tasty herbs, a few colored flowers, and some small pod. Our little cookie washed them, took my sharp kitchen knife and cutting board from a drawer, and adeptly chopped his herbs into tiny pieces. Next, he took the frittered onions and mingled them with the tomatoes, his herbs, the cooked macaroni, and finally my cheese cubes. A wonderful aroma started to fill our kitchen, making our mouths water and our hungry stomachs rumble in anticipation.

Finally, John got four plates from a cupboard, and Davy scooped the readied macaroni onto them. Little Harry climbed onto a folding chair and passed the filled plates around the table, still directing everybody as befits a real Chef. Now, we all took a seat and started to savor our nicely smelling and superbly looking dinner.

Again, I enjoyed my little cookie's dinner very much; although, to my personal taste, John had frittered too many onions. However, my three boys seemed to love the strong taste. After they licked their fingers and lips clean, they even scraped the pan for the last crumbs. We finished our dinner with cups of ice cream with whipped cream, nicely topped with lots of maple syrup.

Especially Davy beamed, while he again licked his fingers clean. With a beaming face and sparkling brown eyes, he complimented our little Chief Cookie with his more than outstanding cooking skills.

Graciously, our little Chef accepted Davy's compliment, with a slight bow and a proud smile. Before we returned to our living room, John and little Harry did the dishes, while Davy cleaned our kitchen table. I brewed myself a nice cup of coffee, while my boys took three colas and put everything onto a tray.

In rank, we marched to our living room, where we sat down on our couch. Again, my little soul mate claimed his usual place on my lap and tried to melt into my enveloping aura. John nestled onto my left side, leaned into me, and rested his head on my chest. Davy sat next to me on my right side, although he still kept a small distance from me. Now and then, he stole furtive glances at his happy friends...

Although I could feel Davy's desperate longing to lean into me and share our cuddling, I decided to give him all the personal space that he needed to get used to his new situation. Nobody was in a rush, and we had all the time in the world.

First, we sipped our colas and coffee and nibbled on our cookies, while enjoyed our combined love and togetherness very much. Then, little Harry started to tell us some silly joke he had heard from Davy. After we stopped laughing, John looked a little bit naughty, as if he thought of something funny and wanted to take revenge.

Turning towards Davy, John asked his new friend:

"You are a clever boy, aren't you? Then, I have an easy riddle for you. You know that Donald's Mom has three sons. And, of course, you also know that her three sons are called Huey, Dewey, and..."

"Louie, of course!" Davy answered immediately, without thinking.

My little soul mate seemed to know the correct answer, because he started to snicker. Obviously, Davy had given an incorrect answer, and there had to be some catch in this too 'easy' riddle, so I started to think. My first thought was about Donald Duck and his three funny nephews. However, that answer turned out to be too easy. Clearly, there was some hidden trap in John's easy riddle.

Well, Donald's Mom had three sons; Huey, Dewey, plus she also was Donald's Mom. Therefore, to be Donald's Mom, and having only three sons, her third son had to be Donald!

I opened my mouth to give John the correct answer, but Davy already beat me to it and chuckled:

"Sorry John, I didn't think straight and answered too fast. Of course, the correct answer is 'Donald', because he too is one of his Mom's sons. Now, I have another 'easy' riddle for you..."

From now on, my happy threesome tried to outdo each other at producing several more silly riddles and deceiving stories. After they couldn't think of any more funny pranks, they fell silent for a few seconds. Then, Davy started to explain a couple of difficult tricks he had taught himself while skating around the block. He promised his friends to teach them the next day, which made both John and little Harry react very enthusiastic. They even tried to persuade ME to join them outside and take part in Davy's skating lessons!

Their over-enthusiastic persuading made me chuckle:

"Sorry, boys, but this 'ancient grandpa' is way too old for taking skating lessons, with his rusty joints and over-aged muscles."

Both John and Davy laughed at my silly complaints, but my little soul mate rebutted:

"Dad, at only sixty-five-years, you certainly are NOT too old for joining Davy's skating lessons! At least, not yet... To be honest, you are the bestest Dad in the whole universe; because you can still behave as if you are a young boy yourself."

Smilingly, I took that as a huge compliment, while I ruffled my boy's unruly blond hair. Happily, he cuddled up onto my chest even more, while basking in our mutual love and togetherness.

Suddenly, I felt a faint pressure against my right side. Slowly, nearly imperceptibly, Davy had crawled nearer and nearer towards me, until his head touched my shoulder! Daringly, he crawled even closer towards me, as if copying John who had his head pushed under my arm and rested against my left side.

Very careful, so as not to intimidate my new boy, I draped my right arm around Davy's firm frame and pulled him towards my side. Fortunately, this time, he didn't resist any more, but he just shifted his entire body towards me and melted into my right side, with his head resting against my chest.

Yesss. There was our first real bodily contact! My 'third boy' had finally found his own place in my life! Silently, I thanked our Beloved Ancestors and Spirit Friends in my mind for their invaluable help; but they didn't answer me, as usual.

After a long time of cuddling and feeling happy, John and little Harry grew a little bit impatient, because they still wanted to put their new computer desks together. Before they left me, John first asked Davy if he still was available... Of course, Davy still wanted to help them; and all three boys quickly left our couch and raced upstairs, followed by this 'ancient grandpa' at a slower pace.

After some deliberation, we decided in unison to put little Harry's desk together first. Therefore, we went to my boy's room and started to unpack the first package that contained its 'detailed instructions'. For the next hour, all four of us were very busy studying its difficult drawings and comparing the lengths of all its different screws.

Feeling more and more puzzled, we tried to decipher what the makers of this complicated riddle could have had in mind. Fortunately, Davy turned out to be really technical. After looking at the drawings, he suddenly started to clarify them to us as if this could be his daily work. He really was a remarkable boy!

Helped by Davy, our too difficult puzzle started to look like a real computer desk; until, after nearly an hour of working hard, it suddenly was ready! My little soul mate beamed at his friends and me; while, in absence of a chair, he climbed on top of his brand new desk. From his makeshift throne, he looked down at his subjects...

That made John chuckle and tease his little brother:

"Now, you really look like Crown Prince Harold Romani!"

John's teasing remark caused little Crown Prince Harold to send him a murderous death look; because he had ordered John to keep his real name a secret until he would be old enough to reign, or until his own Gypsy people finally found him!

While everybody started to laugh at his suddenly indignant face, our little Gypsy Crown Prince jumped down from his makeshift throne and went downstairs, because Davy had to go home. My new boy looked a bit sad, while he reluctantly laced his shoes. Suddenly, he jumped up and threw his strong arms around my neck.

With teary eyes full of longing, my 'third boy' wheedled:

"Thank you very much, sir, for this marvelous day and everything else; and I really loved being here and helping you! May I please come back here and help you again, perhaps tomorrow after I have done some necessary chores at home first?"

While ruffling Davy's dark brown hair, I assured him:

"Davy, you may come back here any time you wish; because, from now on, you are one of MY boys!"

Davy got even more tears in his grateful eyes; while he told me:

"Thank you again, sir, and I wish that YOU could be my Dad..."

John and little Harry wanted to walk Davy home, and I decided to join them. First, we put on our shoes. Then, we went outside, where we very much enjoyed the still warm breeze and the beautiful sight of all the twinkling stars over our heads.

Together, we walked the few blocks to Davy's house, where Mary already saw us coming and quickly opened her front door. Again, she thanked me abundantly for looking after her son, and she assured me he had never looked so happy! I seemed to have a very healthy influence on her child; and would I care for a nice cup of coffee?

No, thank you, because we felt really tired from our hard work and wanted to go home immediately. First, I thanked Mary for her nice compliment. Then, everybody hugged, Davy kissed me twice and thanked me again, and we left Mary's house and returned home.

After my two boys and I returned on our own porch, I started to search my pockets for my keys, but couldn't find them. Obviously, I had again forgotten to take my keys with me before I closed our front door! Or, perhaps, my little soul mate still had them in his pocket...

Trying not to let my boy see my embarrassment, I asked him:

"Harry, do you still carry my keys in your pocket, after we returned home this morning?"

Of course, my clever little Shaman had already read my thoughts and sensed my embarrassment. However, perhaps because he felt too tired, he didn't tease me but only answered:

"No, Dad, I've put them where you always keep them, on your desk next to the telephone. But I will be right back..."

Quickly, he left us and disappeared towards the backside of our house, obviously to get our hidden key and enter our house through the backdoor. Indeed, within a minute, he reappeared from our front door, let us in, and put my keys back onto my desk.

All the time, John had looked at me with a naughty face, but he didn't say anything. However, I knew exactly what he was thinking!

In unison, we decided to go upstairs and put John's computer desk together. Fortunately, we had learned quite a lot from our first puzzle, and the second desk turned out to be much easier to build. Soon, John's desk was ready and set up; and we helped him fill it up with his papers and a wagonload of little computer games.

Feeling dead tired but truly happy, both boys took a quick shower before they dived into their own beds and almost immediately fell asleep. Still feeling thankful and full of love, I took my own shower, dived into my waterbed, hugged my pillow, and closed my eyes.

Much to my surprise, just before I fell asleep, I suddenly woke up because I sensed my own little brother and saw Jack's unearthly light around me! This time, Jack's warm voice sounded serious and a little bit worried, while he told me:

"My dear brother, don't be afraid, because everything will turn out for the best. You will have a difficult time, but you will come through it okay; and, in the end, there will be victory."

Jack's unearthly light slowly faded away, leaving me puzzled and staying awake for quite some time, while thinking Jack's worried sounding words over and over. What could Jack have meant by 'you will have a difficult time'?

9. Suddenly, we are busted and interrogated.

Early in the morning, I woke up with the harsh sound of my too loud doorbell; while, at the same time, somebody outside pounded on our front door! What the heck could be happening? Was some unknown stranger trying to break into my house, this early in the morning? It couldn't be John, because his firm frame just started to yawn and stir in my left arm. My little soul mate had started to yawn too, while stretching his small body out in my right arm. Obviously, sometime during the night, both boys had again left their own beds and crawled into mine, to feel more safe and loved as usual.

Could Trudy be at our front door, wanting to talk to me again, perhaps because she had returned from visiting her mother? Or, had Eric returned and found his house empty? Perhaps, Eric had found out that John was here, and he now wanted to take 'his son' to a juvenile home, to protect him from getting corrupted by 'that Big Harry'?

A few seconds later, our too loud doorbell started to ring again. At the same time, again, somebody started to pound on our front door! Something outside had to be severely wrong...

This time, John sat upright and produced a heartfelt yawn, while muttering under his breath what sounded like a curse. Unwillingly, he left our warm and cozy bed and stumbled to one of our windows, to take a quick look outside.

With a surprised face, he turned towards me and exclaimed:

"Dad, there is a police car in our driveway!"

Again, our too loud doorbell rang, this time sounding a couple of times in succession. And, again, somebody pounded on our front door, making me feel more and more uneasy. Was our neighborhood on fire, or had something horrible happened in our street?

Hastily, I jumped out of bed and dressed in a hurry, followed suit by two very agitated boys. Together, we raced downstairs, while our loud doorbell started to ring again. Still dreading some nasty disaster, I opened our front door and looked outside.

Directly in front of our door, two police officers were waiting for us, obviously ready to pound on our door again. In our driveway, two other police officers had put their police car in front of our vehicle, probably to block its way in case we would try to escape. They leaned against their car and stared at us with bored faces.

Both officers at our front door showed me their identity cards, while one of them took my arm and told me:

"You are coming with us to answer a couple of questions. Both boys will come with us as well, and where is the third boy?"

Still feeling extremely surprised, I responded:

"Huh? What is the trouble, officer, and why are you here? Has one of us unintentionally done anything wrong? And, what do you mean by a 'third boy'? There isn't a 'third boy' in our house!"

"You will find out soon enough why we are here. Do you allow us to search your house while our colleagues take you to our police station, or do we have to arrange a search warrant first and lock you up in a cell while we have to wait for it?"

Feeling more and more uneasy, I managed to bring out:

"Do as you wish, because, in our house, none of us has anything to hide. Only, what are you searching for, and what questions do you want to ask? I am absolutely sure that nor I, nor any of my boys, have done anything questionable."

Both officers didn't even bother to answer. They just entered our house without looking back, leaving our front door wide open. What the heck could they be up to?

In the meantime, both bored looking officers had left their police car and stepped towards us, now telling us to follow them. One of them took my arm, while the other one took John's arm and little Harry's hand. Were they afraid we would try to escape? Only, why would we? I was still sure we hadn't done anything questionable.

One of the officers opened their police car and told us to get in. Hesitantly, I entered their car and slumped down onto its rear seat, still feeling very confused. Why, for heaven's sake, did the police arrest us, for the first time in my life, and where would they bring us?

Both John and little Harry followed me inside the police car and slumped down next to me; while the officers closed our door, entered their front seats, and drove off. Were they now taking us to their police station? But, why? This didn't make any sense...

In the meantime, my little soul mate started to look frightened, while leaning against me and wringing his small hands in distress. Was he remembering the nasty witch-hunts, when he was their little Gypsy Crown Prince and their 'gadjo' police raided their camp? Now that my boy's repressed memories from his Gypsy past were coming back, he could be extremely vulnerable!

John glared at the police officers, with clenched fists and a furious expression on his face. My young friend seemed to be ready to defend his little brother and me with his own life, if necessary! Quickly, I nudged his arm and shook my head warningly, until he unwillingly unclenched his fists and tried to calm down some.

To be honest, I myself didn't feel too well either, while trying to calm down and stay unaffected. Why had the first police officer asked for a 'third boy'? Did he mean Davy? Only, what could Davy have done to make us arrested like this?

For quite some time, both police officers drove on and on, without saying a word. Then, we suddenly arrived at some unknown police station in another town I didn't recognize. A huge iron gate opened magically, and the police car entered a secluded yard. Immediately, the gate closed behind us with a squeaking sound, while the police car drove on to a dull looking grayish building and stopped there.

John tried to open our door, but it appeared to be locked from the outside. Why the heck had the police locked us in, as if we could be dangerous criminals that would try to escape?

Both officers left their seats, and one of them opened our door from the outside and told us to follow them. They guided us through a heavy steel door, which also magically opened on our approach. We entered a musty smelling passageway, while the steel door closed behind us with a dull bang. We followed the passageway and rounded a corner, where we entered a hallway with several barred cell doors.

One of the officers unlocked a door, and told me to go inside:

"In here, sir!"

My little soul mate tried to follow me inside, but the other officer stopped him with a sneer:

"Of course, we will take YOU to another room!"

"DAD..." my boy shouted, wide-eyed and trembling with fear.

Of course, I tried to reassure my frightened boy, by telling him:

"It's okay, son. Just calm down; and nothing will happen to you."

Before I could say any more encouraging words, the officer pushed me through the cell door and locked it from the outside.

Suddenly, I was all alone, in what looked like a small cell room. Outside its locked door, I faintly heard the frightened baritone voice of my panicking little soul mate. He seemed to panic more and more, and even started to scream. Fortunately, I also heard John's voice who tried to calm him down. Then, another door shut with a loud bang, and I heard some more commotion as if John had started to yell and curse. A third door shut, and everything went dead silent.

Feeling horrible, I put my ear against the cell door, to try to hear some more. What had happened to my little soul mate that made him scream like this? Had the officers separated him from John? Only, why would they do such a horrible thing? Couldn't they see that my vulnerable boy panicked and needed his big brother to help him and calm him down? His repressed witch-hunt memories from his early Gypsy youth were returning, for crying out loud!

Feeling helpless and unable to do anything about it, I left the door, turned around, and looked at a square room that contained only a small table and four wooden chairs. Through a barred window, I could see a small part of an enclosed yard, surrounded by a heavy fence. Everything outside was surrealistically silent. Even the birds seemed to avoid this disgusting place that felt as if it was drenched in fear and evil. How many perpetrators and other criminals had been locked up in this cell? Its nasty atmosphere almost strangled me...

Why the heck had the police brought my boys and me here, in this unknown police station? What in the world could have happened that made the police arrest us? I was absolutely sure that none of us had done anything questionable! And, why had one of those officers asked about a 'third boy'? Had they meant Davy?

Still feeling very uneasy, I slumped down onto one of the wooden chairs, and started to wait. Now and then, I thought I heard my son's deep baritone voice, again yelling and screaming. Only, I wasn't sure. It could have been my own imagination, because I expected my proud little Gypsy Prince to fight back with all of his might. What would those police officers do to my panicking and extremely vulnerable boy, now that he started to remember his Gypsy past?

Why, for heaven's sake, had they separated my little soul mate from his bigger brother? And, why had they separated both boys from ME? Would my boy be able to cope with his returning fears from his early Gypsy past with its nasty witch-hunts, without having me or John around to help him and reassure him? Ultimately, he was only eight years old; and he could be extremely vulnerable now that he really started to remember his early Gypsy youth.

What would happen to John? Obviously, the police officers had separated him from his little brother, because little Harry had started to scream and panic. Only, how would John cope with such a sudden separation? I already knew that my young friend could be very short-tempered; and I was sure he would try to protect his little brother at all costs. I only hoped that John would try to think first, before he acted on his instinct and did something foolish.

What would happen to me, now that I suddenly was locked away in some unknown police cell? Why had the police brought me here and locked me in, for the first time in my life, as if I could be a dangerous criminal? Could Davy, or his mother, have told the police anything questionable about me? However, I was absolutely sure that neither I, nor one of my boys, had done anything improper to Davy. Or, had Thomas done something foolish, and mentioned my name?

For heaven's sake, why had the police detained my boys and me? Although I thought and thought, I just couldn't come up with any reasonable explanation. Why had those police officers separated my boys from me? Were they afraid I would try to instruct them what to tell and what not? Nothing seemed to make sense...

After a long time of waiting and trying to think everything through, my head was in heavy turmoil, and I started to develop an annoying headache. Therefore, I tried to stop worrying, and forced myself to calm down and concentrate on my Inner Peace. I was absolutely sure I hadn't done anything questionable, and my boys and I had nothing to hide! Therefore, I just concentrated on my Inner Self, and forced my nervous inside to calm down and stay calm. I also deepened my too shallow breathing, while forcing my upset consciousness to return into the 'here and now' and stay here.

For another long time, nothing happened, and I restarted to worry and had to calm myself down again. Of course, the police officers couldn't keep us here forever. Soon, they would open my cell door and offer me their excuses for their stupid mistake.

After I had left my cell, I would collect my boys; and a regretful officer would bring us home in his police car, while I cuddled my boys in the rear seats and laughed at our strange adventure.

Still nothing happened, and I again started to feel more and more uncomfortable. Supposed they were too busy to remember they had put me away in this cell? Would they eventually find my bare bones and feel sorry for forgetting me? Chuckling at my own silly thoughts, I again forced myself to stop worrying and to calm down again. Then, I started to wait again, for what felt like another eternity...

Finally, somebody outside my cell unlocked the door with a loud click, and two new police officers that I hadn't seen before entered the room without saying a word. Silently, they took a seat at the opposite side of the table, and started to stare at me.

At first, I nearly started to laugh. Could this silent behavior be their so-called 'break-down tactic', and were they trying to break down my resistance in advance? Inwardly, I started to chuckle; because, as a psychotherapist, I had often used exactly the same tactic, to help my clients open up and unlock their suppressed emotions.

Still chuckling inwardly, I glared back at both staring officers, not feeling impressed at all. What did they expect from a well-trained psychotherapist who knew all their dirty tricks and also knew how they worked? Were both officers now waiting for me, to open our conversation and start blabbering? Then, they could wait for a long time! Ultimately, I hadn't asked to be here; and I was now waiting for them, to offer me their excuses and take my boys and me home.

When I didn't react but only glared back at them, at long last, one of the staring officers suddenly asked me:

"Good morning, sir! May we offer you a cup of coffee?"

Deciding to play along with their silly games, I responded:

"Yes, please, with two sugars and no milk."

The other officer left the room, and soon returned carrying three disposable cups. In silence, we drank the lukewarm coffee that tasted like boiled sewer water, while both officers continued to stare at me. Again, I played along and just stared back at them.

Finally, the first officer asked me, with a slightly annoyed voice:

"Of course, you know why we've brought you here..."

Trying to stay polite, I glared back at the officer and answered:

"Sorry, officer, but I don't have any idea why your colleagues suddenly arrested my boys and me and brought us here! I am sure we have done nothing questionable, and we have nothing to hide. Why do you lock me up in this cell, as some dangerous criminal, and where did you bring my boys? As their temporary warden and responsible therapist, I want to take them home immediately!"

At that moment, the other officer took over, still staring at me with piercing eyes as if he determined whether I was sincere or not; while he tried to talk to me with a 'fatherly' sounding voice. Obviously, he was trying to play the 'good guy'...

Trying to sound sympathetic and reassuring, he told me:

"Don't worry about both boys, because they are doing okay. They were questioned in separate rooms by a trained interrogator, and they are in competent hands. However, as you pretend not to know why we've brought you here, I will jog your memory by telling what has happened. Only a few days ago, our public prosecutor received an anonymous report that warned him about a single newcomer who bought a house in a small village and immediately started to collect young neighborhood children. That is why our public prosecutor ordered us to trace you down and investigate your past. According to our investigation, you divorced some time ago, you have two grownup daughters who are living in another town, and you don't have any grandchildren. Am I correct so far?"

"Well, I am divorced, my two daughters are living in another town, and I don't have any grandchildren. However, I am certainly NOT collecting young neighborhood children! What a ridiculous idea..."

Without answering, the officer just went on:

"After we investigated your past, we also decided to observe your house for a few days, but we didn't detect anything suspicious. Until two days ago, when we received another anonymous report, stating that now two young boys were living in your house! This time, we decided to keep a very close eye on you, until we were sure that nothing improper was happening. Yesterday, we suddenly received an urgent phone call from a very disturbed lady, who saw a naked and crying young boy leave your house in obvious panic. That is why we brought you here, to answer our questions. Who is that panicking young boy, why was he naked, and how did you make him cry?"

For quite some time, I only gasped for air, while my bewildered brain tried to make sense of what those officers could want from me. What were they insinuating; and, for heaven's sake, what could they be up to? This was totally crazy! First, some nosy neighbor had sent 'anonymous reports' to the police, about my little soul mate and John living in my house. Then, a 'very disturbed lady' called the police about Davy, who panicked in our shower stall and fled home with his clothes in his hands. What kind of a world were we living in? This was no longer our 'Big Brother' society controlling us! This was the 'Damned Whole Neighborhood' peeking through my windows and sending their anonymous reports to the police!

Involuntarily, I balled my fists in helpless anger, just as John had done. Then, I tried to force myself to calm down and think straight. Throwing a tantrum, as both police officers seemed to be waiting for, wouldn't help me in any way. Of course, I HAD to answer the crazy questions of these suspicious 'child-protectors', because, otherwise, they could make my life very difficult.

Again forcing myself to calm down and stay calm, I answered:

"The boy's name is Davy, and he is a friend of my two boys. After helping us carry some heavy packages upstairs, he joined my sweaty boys in our shower stall. Only, he panicked when I suddenly showed up, because his own 'father' always abused and raped him during his shower. That is why Davy dived past me and ran away from our house in sudden panic. Half an hour later, his worried mother told me everything about her abused son. Now, we are good friends, and Davy is no longer afraid of meeting any 'nice grownups' or 'loving fathers'. As a well-trained psychotherapist, I am very happy to be able to help Davy cope with his abusive past."

For quite some time, both officers only stared at me with piercing eyes, until the 'bad guy' suddenly continued:

"We are well aware who Davy is; because we've put his 'father' in prison for a long time, so that his son is now safe at least from HIM. However, let's take another look at YOU. This boy is already the third vulnerable and damaged young boy who frequents your house! The first one, a severely burnt little Gypsy boy, has lost both parents in a caravan fire and was hospitalized for quite some time. The second young boy was recently abandoned by his father, while his mother had to flee to another town to escape his wrath. The third young boy was severely abused and raped by his own 'father'. Therefore, our public prosecutor suspects that you are particularly attracted to victimized or damaged young boys; and he has ordered us to stop you from damaging them even further!"

Both officers still continued to stare into my eyes, as if they triumphantly waited for me to break down and confess. Only, I almost started to laugh at hearing their cleverly concocted but totally unreal argumentations! This was the most crazy reasoning I had ever heard! To be able to accuse me of 'committing improper behavior' with my three boys, they had turned everything upside down...

Then, the full significance of what they were doing dawned on me, making me feel extremely uneasy. It was now clear to me that both officers would never listen to me. They would only try to contort every word from me, so that they could use my 'confessions' against me. How would I ever be able to defend myself against such unreal and falsely contorted arguments? Could I tell them that the late Jack, the former owner of my house who was now our Spirit Guide, had brought my boys to me to be their mentor? Would they accept that I already knew little Harry from my past trapper life where he had been my own little son? Should I try to explain that Davy needed a 'loving grownup' in his life, to help him cope with his abusive past? Would they really believe me if I told them that John and I already knew each other and had been best friends during several of our past lives? Or, would they immediately strap me into a straitjacket...

Suddenly, I started to understand how innocent victims of a witch-hunt could feel, when accused of doing something they hadn't done. Just like them, I felt totally helpless and didn't know how to escape from their crazy accusations and untrue beliefs. They were sure they were right, and they always were, because they had the 'law' on their side! To them, 'right' was everything looked upon as being 'normal' by the majority of our society. Therefore, in their eyes, I was not 'normal', because the majority didn't understand why my boys and I needed each other. Consequently, they would try to put me back onto their 'morally correct way', by punishing me and preventing me from doing any more 'abnormal' things. Case dismissed...

Yet, I still decided to defend myself against their accusations. If only I could convince them that I hadn't done anything 'improper' or 'abnormal' to my boys... If only my interrogators would listen to me, instead of staring at me with triumphant eyes, as if they already knew beforehand what I was going to say and weren't impressed at all...

While trying to look as innocent as possible, I told them:

"Sir, you are talking nonsense, because I am NOT attracted to any victimized or damaged young children in any improper way. Never, in all my life, have I done or performed anything towards or against any young children that I cannot be proud of! I didn't do anything to lure or to force John, Harry, or Davy towards or into my house. They just started visiting me voluntarily and willingly, at their own free choice, and with their parents' consent. Yesterday evening, Davy even told me he wished that I could be his new Dad!"

Again, both officers remained silent, until the 'bad guy' responded:

"As we already suspected, you immediately start blaming these innocent children for your own depraved behavior, as nearly every caught child molester tries to make us believe! Only, believe me or not, as their responsible grownup, you should know better than letting these vulnerable young children enter your house to be around you; whether they wanted to do it 'voluntarily' or not."

Angrily, I immediately rebutted:

"WHAT should I 'know better', officer? I am not 'letting these vulnerable young children enter my house to be around me'; but my boys show up at my front door voluntarily; and I am NOT going to chase them away, because they WANT to be around me! Believe it or not, but I am only trying to help my vulnerable young friends, by using my knowledge as a well-trained psychotherapist."

With a slightly denouncing voice, the 'bad guy' responded:

"Isn't it strange that, during our house search, we found evidence that two young children shared your bed during the night, while those 'young friends' are complete strangers to you? What did these children do in your bed? We took a couple of pictures as proof for our public prosecutor, to let him decide what to do next. We also did a quick search for child porn on your computer, but stopped to have our talk with you first. As you can see, we are totally honest with you; and, now, we expect you to be totally honest with us! You seem to have a serious problem, and we are trying to help you with it..."

10. Just trust me that Big Brother is watching.

Again, both officers started to stare at me with their piercing eyes. Only, this time, I didn't know any more what to answer. Was really our Big Brother society accusing me of doing improper things to my boys, because I had let them sleep next to me in my double bed? And, did they really think I had lured both boys into my bed on purpose, to do lord knows what to them? How would I ever be able to defend myself against such crazy accusations?

In our over-prudish society, letting your 'own' child sleep next to you, to help it feel safer and more protected, was commonly accepted as being 'normal'. But, what if said child felt like being your 'own' child, and it wanted to feel safe and protected in your arms? Would I really have to marry its mother first, before our society allowed me to reassure and comfort an upset young child? What a crazy world we were living in; where every cuddly behavior towards children first had to be tested for being 'normal'...

Again, I tried to defend myself against their untrue accusations:

"Sir, I am already totally honest with you! I have already told you the truth, the only truth, and nothing but the truth. Last night, my boys went to sleep in their own beds! Only, this morning, I woke up with both boys next to me, much to my own surprise. Obviously, they had decided to crawl into my bed sometime during the night, voluntarily and all on their own. I've never ever asked my boys to join me, nor lured them into sleeping next to me in my double bed. They are doing it voluntarily, because they feel safe with me, and they seem to need the reassuring feeling of being cared for by a loving and caring grownup. Did you never hear of young children needing lots of 'Tender Loving Care', to grow up safe and healthy? Why are my boys and I in custody, and why did you separate them from me? Why did you lock us up in separate cells? What the heck have we done wrong, and where are my boys? As their responsible psychotherapist, I want to see them NOW and take them home immediately!"

This time, the 'good' officer smiled at me, while he responded:

"Please, sir, don't blame US; because we are only doing our job, and, so far, we really try to believe that you are sincere and only doing YOUR job. However, let's take a look at you from our society's point of view. A single man starts living in our village and connects with a couple of young neighborhood children. First, he takes a burnt little boy into his house. Then, an abandoned young boy starts visiting him. A severely abused young boy enters his house and suddenly leaves it naked and crying. What would YOU think of that man? Such behavior certainly doesn't look 'normal', not even for a 'responsible psychotherapist' full of tender loving care! On top of this, we found clear evidence that at least two children shared the man's bed during the night. Please, sir, tell me, how would YOU react?"

Unfortunately, I started to feel numb and nearly couldn't think straight any more. I also couldn't find any more reasonable answers to defend myself. Both officers hadn't even listened to my responses, probably because they were already convinced that I had lured my boys into my bed on purpose and therefore just had to have ulterior motives! What should I do now? Although I was a well-trained psychotherapist and should be always in control of my own feelings, I suddenly felt a strong urge to break down and cry my heart out.

After trying to defend myself against both persistent police officers who didn't even listen to my arguments and just went on with their false accusations, I started to feel totally worn out. I never knew that turning somebody into a senseless victim would be this easy. Yet, again, I pulled myself together and defended myself, by stating:

"Sir, I really haven't done anything that I should feel ashamed of, and I am only proud of what I have achieved so far, especially with Davy. As a well-known psychotherapist, I have helped several hundreds of victimized or abused children cope with their abusive past, and both the children and their grateful parents or wardens always thanked me abundantly. Therefore, I am convinced that I really am an excellent therapist with quite a lot of experience. Now, I only want to take my boys home!"

Sounding grim, the 'bad' officer took over again and told me:

"Then, why did you, both as a 'well-known psychotherapist' and as their 'responsible grownup', let two young children sleep next to you in your bed? And, please, don't come up with the story that they wanted to. That is what every child abuser always tries to make us believe, that their victims wanted it themselves and even asked for it. Ultimately, you are the grownup, and you are responsible for them and for their welfare, as long as they are under your supervision. Of course, you also know that our society doesn't exactly approve of unrelated grownups sleeping with young children in the same bed. Just read the newspaper stories. Another thing is, why do keep on calling these boys 'MY boys'? Of course, these children are not your property. Actually, they are nothing to you. You are not their father or their warden, and they are not in your custody! In reality, you are only an old pervert who seems to be attracted especially to vulnerable and abused young boys; and you are trying to lure them into your bed, to do lord knows what to them or with them. Fortunately, whether you like it or not, our society has appointed us, their police officers, to PROTECT our innocent children from perverted men like you. Be assured that Big Brother IS watching!"

Exactly at that moment, someone outside our cell knocked on the door; and both surprised looking officers rose from their chairs and went outside. From the hallway, I heard them whisper to each other, with heated voices as if they felt severely disappointed and wanted to do something that the other man strongly disapproved of. Within a few minutes, both officers returned into my cell, but they didn't sit down on their chairs as they had done before. I even thought they could be looking unsure, but didn't want me to know it...

After what felt like an awkward silence, the 'bad' officer resumed:

"Unfortunately, this time, we cannot prove that you have done anything improper to or with those innocent children. However, next time, we will make sure you will be imprisoned for a long time! We will also make sure there will NOT be another time for you. From now on, you will have to get your rocks off on somebody who is about your own age, instead of on those young children! Our public prosecutor ordered us to take the burnt little Gypsy boy to a juvenile home, where he will receive the proper guidance to overcome the new troubles he got into. The other young boy will be given back to his mother, who temporarily lives in another town. An officer already phoned her, and she is on her way to collect her son. The third boy is still at home, but we will tell his mother who you are and what has happened to her abused child. From now on, sir, every single police officer in your village will keep a close eye on you. The very moment another young child enters your house; we will immediately arrest you and imprison you for a very long time. Just trust me that Big Brother IS watching! Now, we will show you to the exit."

Both officers left my cell and beckoned me to follow them. Still feeling totally numb, I followed them towards what turned out to be the front door. Quickly, I left their police station, while its heavy door closed behind me with a vicious sounding click.

Suddenly, I blinked my eyes in the dazzling sunlight, still feeling senseless and incapable of any more thinking. All those threatening words were still turning around and around in my head, confusing me and making me feel even more empty and dizzy.

Still trembling all over, I stepped back, to find something to support me. While leaning against the closed door, I squinted against the too bright sunlight. What time was it, and where had I landed? Unfortunately, I didn't recognize this unknown part of our village. To be honest, I wasn't even sure whether it was the same village or not. Stupidly, during our trip in their police car, I hadn't paid any attention to where the police brought my boys and me.

Fortunately, John would know our way home, as he always did. Where were John and little Harry? Were they still in the police station, with their 'trained interrogator'? When would they show up and join me, so that we could go home together?

Then, reality crushed upon me, as an unexpected thunderclap, making me shudder with horror. The police would never allow me to take my boys home! From now on, I would never see them again! John would be returned to his mother in another town, and my little soul mate would be brought to a juvenile home to receive their 'proper guidance to overcome the new troubles he got into'.

Slumping down against the police building, I started to cry my heart out. This morning, I had lost John, my little soul mate, and probably Davy; and I would never see them again. From now on, I would be living totally alone in Jack's former house...

I don't know for how long I just cried and cried. Then, my heavy sobs slowly started to diminish, and I decided to pull myself together. Quickly, I dried my teary eyes and blew my nose in my handkerchief. Next, I forcefully shut down my disturbing emotions, as I had taught myself during my own difficult youth. Of course, wallowing in my pain and sadness wouldn't be of any help.

First of all, I had to go home! Only, where was home, and did I have enough money in my wallet to hire a taxicab? After searching my pockets, I remembered I had left both my wallet and my keys in my living room, lying on my desk next to the telephone! Without any money, no cab or bus would give me a ride home. What should I do now? Of course, I couldn't stay here any longer, in this foreign town that I didn't recognize, and without any money to hire a taxi.

Still feeling dizzy and disorientated, I started to walk away from the police station, as if hoping to stumble upon something familiar. Only, where should I go? Unfortunately, I lacked my little Shaman's useful ability of always knowing his way everywhere...

One time, a warm and soulful voice in my inside told me:

"My dear brother, always keep the sun at your left side."

Feeling surprised, I stopped walking and stood still, but the warm voice in my inside had already disappeared. Was really my 'Spirit Guide', Jack, here, and was he trying to help me find my way? Only, why hadn't Jack helped me get John and little Harry out of their cells, so that we could go home together? This didn't make any sense!

Although my still numbed brain refused to think, my unconscious mind seemed to listen to Jack's warm voice, because it almost forced me to start moving my legs mechanically and to keep the sun at my left side. Slowly, I walked on and on, while trying to avoid most trees and lampposts on autopilot. Now and then, I bumped into a parked car, and its angry owner shouted something that sounded like 'drunken parasite', but I couldn't care less and just wavered on.

All the time, an awful feeling pounded through my mind and tried to choke my feelings: I had lost my little soul mate, my young friend John, and probably Davy. Those police officers had put my little Gypsy Prince in a juvenile home to get their 'proper guidance', and they had sent John back to his mother in another town. Plus, they would make sure that no young child ever entered my life again. From now on, I would be living all alone in Jack's former house...

Because I nearly started to cry again, I forcefully pulled myself together and forced myself to walk on. Fortunately, I had taught myself how to do this, during my own difficult youth. And, of course, as a well-trained psychotherapist, I was used to always reflect on my own feelings and be in control of my own emotions. Therefore, I again forced myself not to think at what had happened, but just walked on and on, while keeping the sun at my left side and moving forward on autopilot, hoping that Jack would be right...

After several hours of walking on and on, the sun started to disappear behind the horizon, while dusk already emerged. How would I ever be able to find my way home, now that I couldn't keep the sun at my left side any more? I still hadn't the faintest idea where I was, or how long I had been walking. My tiring leg muscles started to feel strained and aching, while my sore feet sopped in my shoes as if they were bleeding. However, I still stubbornly kept on walking and plainly refused to give up. What else could I do?

Squinting into the already emerging darkness, I finally thought I recognized my surroundings! After rubbing my squinting eyes to see better, I headed for what I thought could be my block. Yes! Here, in this crossing, John once told me to turn our car to the right, to enter our street and get home! Finally, I entered my own street and stumbled into my own driveway, feeling happy but totally exhausted.

Nearly crawling, I first hobbled towards my backdoor, to get little Harry's hidden key. After some searching, I found the rusty key on its nail in a thick bush, and unlocked my backdoor with trembling hands. With my last effort, I stumbled inside, and was HOME.

Now feeling completely exhausted, I slumped down onto the carpeted floor in my kitchen, and immediately started to cry my heart out. Why was life this harsh to me? What could I have done wrong? Why had I suddenly lost John, Davy, and little Harry, without being allowed to see my boys ever again? Where would they be now? Would they already miss me? I surely already missed them!

For quite some time, I went on crying my heart out and feeling horrible. All the time, I was painfully aware of being all alone in my house. From now on, this would be my sole existence. From now on, I would be living here all alone, in Jack's former house, without my young friends around me to brighten my life. Never again would I hear the slightly pubertal voice of John, the hesitant voice of Davy, and the deep baritone voice of my little soul mate, to warm my heart and make me feel happy and full of love. I could better be dead...

Now and then, I tried to open my eyes, but that caused my kitchen to turn around and around, while my headache aggravated. Therefore, I just closed my eyes again and slumped back onto the carpeted floor. My aching legs were still trembling, my exhausted heart still pounded in my upset chest, and my sore feet still hurt terribly.

I felt hungry and thirsty, but didn't dare stand up and drink some water, from fear of falling down and injuring myself even more. I only waited and waited, until I would be able to reach my kitchen sink and drink some water without stumbling or blacking out.

Then, my telephone in my living room started to ring! Only, I didn't know how to answer it, while lying on the kitchen floor and feeling dizzy. Besides, this could only be some annoying sales agency that tried to sell me something I was already sure I didn't need. Who else would phone me at this time in the evening? None of my old friends knew my new number, not even my divorced wife or my own daughters, and nobody else had any reason to call me...

Still feeling dizzy, I just let my phone ring, while trying to block out its irritating sound. After several rings, it finally stopped, but immediately started to ring again. Until, after many more idle tries, the persistent sales agency finally seemed to give up.

While lying down and still feeling horrible, irritatingly slowly, my annoying dizziness finally faded away. Tentatively, I sat up, reached for my shoes, and carefully peeled them off my sore feet. Fortunately, my feet didn't bleed, but my soles were covered with nasty blisters.

Slowly, I rose from the carpeted floor, hobbled to my kitchen sink, and first splashed my face with lots of cold water. Then, I took a glass from a cupboard and drank a huge amount of water. Immediately, I felt queasy, and my stomach emptied itself into the sink. Clearly, my body still was too exhausted to be able to eat or drink anything at all.

A few minutes later, I refilled my glass and tried to drink again, although a lot slower and more carefully. This time, I succeeded in quenching my scorching thirst without immediately vomiting. Now feeling a little bit better, I hobbled to my living room and slumped down on my couch. Leaning against its back, I looked around in the emptiness of my former 'home' that suddenly felt lifeless.

Without my young friends and their happy bantering, my house no longer felt like 'home', but it felt more like a dark prison or a desolate tomb. All life was gone from my once happy house, and I felt like a zombie in my own gloomy graveyard. Was this how I would be living from now on, without my young friends around me to care for and to be happy with? Where would my boys be now?

Again, I started to cry my heart out, but that only aggravated my headache. Therefore, I took a few deep breaths and again forcefully suppressed my unwanted emotions. Only, immediately, I started to think again. What had those police officers done to John and to my vulnerable little soul mate, after 'interrogating' them? Had they arrested Davy as well? Had they already put my little soul mate in a juvenile home, to give him their 'proper guidance'?

Involuntarily, I started to sob again; but, this time, I couldn't stop any more. My heavy sobs turned into cries, and my cries turned into loud wails of agony. Then, I broke down completely, crying my heart out while forcefully banging my head against the back of my couch. Today, I had lost everything that had been worth living for! My living room started to turn around and around, while everything around me faded away and soon went pitch black...

Slowly, the darkness disappeared, while my faded consciousness returned and I could pull myself together again. Then, I forced myself to stand up from the carpeted floor in my living room. Obviously, I had blacked out and fallen off my couch, without knowing what was happening. Still feeling dizzy, I returned to my couch and slumped down on it, waiting until I would feel better again. My living room was already dark, and I had a pounding headache. Every muscle in my body cramped, and my legs and feet still felt like being on fire.

Suddenly, reality harshly returned, in all its intensity! Today, I had lost everything that had been worth living for. This morning, I had lost my little soul mate, my young friend John, probably Davy, and certainly my will to live. From now on, I would be living here all alone for the remainder of my life, or until I voluntarily ended my glum existence by committing suicide. While my heart ached with an unbearable pain, I only hoped that my end would come soon!

Involuntarily, I started to sob again, but that also aggravated my headache. Therefore, I sat upright, took a couple of deep breaths, and again forced myself to suppress my disturbing emotions. Now, I was very happy to have taught myself how to do such a useful thing, during my own difficult youth!

After again pulling myself together, I staggered from my couch and switched on a couple of lamps. Then, I ambled to my kitchen to take a few aspirins. After swallowing them down with some water, I splashed my face in the sink under the water tap. Only, that made me think of my little soul mate who splashed his itchy face with 'buckets of water' after his mask felt too sweaty. I clearly remembered my boy's deep baritone voice, spluttering and gasping:

"Nnnggg. That feels better!"

Again, I broke down and started to cry my heart out. I already missed him! I already terribly missed my little soul mate! Where could he be now? Had the officers already brought him to a juvenile home to get their 'proper guidance'? How would the other inhabitants react, at seeing my boy's terribly burnt face without his rubber mask to hide his scars? Would I ever see my boy again?

Again, I pulled myself together and returned to my living room. This time, I forced myself to look around. First, I saw my boy's green model, still adorned with its flesh-colored rubber mask, staring at me from a corner of my desk. Then, I saw that all my drawers were opened and their contents were spread out everywhere across the floor. My computer was turned around, and my floppies and Davy's monster CD's were spread out onto my desk.

All my cardboard boxes were opened and emptied onto the floor; and several personal things littered my table and my easy chairs. Obviously, those nosy police officers had emptied everything, and brutally looked at all my private possessions!

Suddenly, a furious rage overwhelmed me and made me shout:

"This is MY house, dammit! My private belongings are MINE, and nobody else has any right to look into them! John and Harry are MY boys, and nobody else has the right to take them away from me. I want them back NOW!"

Then, I nearly started to laugh at my own stupidity. From now on, my boys were no longer 'my' boys! This morning, I had lost them forever. This morning, society has taken my three boys away from me, and I will never see them again. From now on, my life will be totally empty, with only the memories of my happily bantering boys in my mind to remember...

Never before had I felt so lonely and worthless. Almost screaming from my unbearable heartache, I threw myself onto my couch, and everything went black again. This time, I welcomed the darkness as a friend, because I had lost my will to live completely. While tumbling into another bottomless dark hole, I felt almost happy...

Slowly, I reopened my teary eyes, and looked around. Vaguely, I remembered an unearthly bright light and Jack's reassuringly warm voice, but I couldn't remember anything else. Fortunately, my nasty headache was gone and I already started to feel much better. Could Jack have used some 'Cosmic Love' powers to heal me?

Unexpectedly, my empty stomach started to rumble, making me realize that I felt hungry! Of course, my boys and I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday evening. Therefore, I went to my kitchen and started to butter some toast and cheese. Only, my cooking ministrations made me think again of my little soul mate, stirring his greenish scrambled eggs while adding his tasty herbs mixture...

Again, I started to cry my heart out, because I missed my little cookie! Where would my little soul mate be now? Would I ever see him again? Had the police officers already put him in a juvenile home, to get their 'proper guidance'? Only, how would the other children react, at seeing my boy's burnt face without his rubber mask?

Again, I forcefully willed my emotions to calm down; and I also forced myself to eat at least some buttered toast and cheese, although it tasted like cardboard. I also brewed myself a cup of coffee, but it tasted like boiled sewage. Soon, I threw everything away, and only drank some cold water instead.

Still feeling hungry, I dragged myself back to my living room, where I slumped down on my couch and closed my eyes. From now on, this would be my one and only sanctum, without my two chatting and teasing boys around me to make me feel happy.

Now and then, I suddenly thought I heard their bantering voices! Then, my heart leapt up in my chest with joy, while I looked around to see where they were. Unfortunately, I only heard my own memories from my past that were playing dirty tricks with my confused mind. From now on, I would never again hear my boys' happy voices, or cuddle my little soul mate on my lap, or feel John's strong arms around my neck. This morning, John, Davy, and little Harry were gone forever, and the police officers had assured me they would make sure that I would never see them again...

For quite some time, I stared at my boy's greenish model with its flesh-colored rubber face, standing on a corner of my desk and proudly looking into our living room. Little Crown Prince Harold's 'green alien' mask that, from now on, was no longer of any use...

Again, I started to cry my heart out, while thinking of my little soul mate with his badly burnt face without his mask to hide his scars. How would my boy cope in his 'juvenile home', without his rubber mask to cover his burns? Would the other children already crowd around him and tease him with such a 'creepy' face?

In helpless anger, I clenched my fists, until my knuckles looked pale and started to cramp. Now, I understood John's reaction, because I too was ready to murder all the meddlesome Big Brother people in the world, including all their mistrusting police officers!

Again, my irritating telephone started to ring, but I had already decided not to listen to it. Nobody knew my new number, and, from now on, I didn't want to talk to anybody anymore! From now on, I would be living all alone, as a lonely hermit, without contacting anybody anymore, until death showed its mercy by taking me away from my lone existence. Therefore, I just blocked out the irritating sound until it silenced; although, soon, it started to ring again!

Who the heck could be trying to call me, over and again, at this impossible hour in the evening? Couldn't they just shut up and leave me alone in my gloomy loneliness and misery? Feeling more and more irritated, I pushed my hands against my ears, to block out the irritating sound, until I decided to go to bed early. Still trying to block out the sound of my steadily ringing phone, I dragged myself upstairs, hoping to get some sleep and be able to forget my misery.

Alas, everything in my shower stall reminded me of my boys! The wet floor was still littered with plastic cups and paperclips. Several air balloons and plastic tubes greeted me from my chest of drawers. A pile of wet towels adorned the soapy floor. Wherever I looked, I found used toothbrushes, hair combs, and footprints.

Again, I started to cry my heart out. Never again would I be able to join my boys in our shower stall; feeling a little boy myself but keeping my briefs on for prudence reasons...

After taking a quick shower, I put on fresh briefs and staggered into my bedroom. There, I stared at our still disarranged waterbed, where I could clearly see three imprints, one tall one and two smaller ones, where my boys and I had slept in each other's arms.

In a sudden outburst of despair, I dived onto the wobbly bed and forcefully smoothed the sheets, until all those visible imprints were gone. Doing this also felt like wiping out all the beautiful memories of my boys and me. From now on, I would sleep all alone in my double waterbed, hugging my pillow and feeling abandoned...

Shivering from coldness and feeling miserable, I crawled under my blankets and tried to get some sleep. However, time and again, just when I started to doze off, I again heard the irritating sound of my telephone downstairs that rang from my living room and woke me up.

Who, for heaven's sake, could be trying to call me, over and again, at this impossible hour of the night? Couldn't they leave me alone and go pester somebody else? I didn't WANT to answer a happy sounding insurance agent who tried to sell me some policy that I didn't need!

Still forcefully pushing my ears in between two pillows, to block out the irritating telephone sound from downstairs, I finally tumbled into a restless sleep full of dark nightmares...

11. As Jack promised, I have both boys back.

Early in the morning, I woke up with the bright morning sun, shining through a crack in my curtains and tickling my eyelids. While slowly opening my eyes, I expected to feel my little soul mate glued to my left side as usual. After I woke him up, he would first utter a few protesting sounds and produce some heartfelt yawns. Then, he would climb onto my chest, offer me a big morning kiss, and drape himself all over me as some affectionate little octopus.

Alas, much to my dismay, my boy's usual place next to me turned out to be empty! This night, nobody had glued itself to my side; and the unexpected silence felt deafening. Again, the total loneliness overwhelmed me, and I started to cry from sheer agony and frustration. What, for heaven's sake, had I done, to deserve this cruelty? Why was life so harsh to me, while I only tried to be good?

What had my little soul mate done, to be put away in some juvenile home to undergo their 'proper guidance'? What had John done, to be torn away from his self-chosen new Dad, after he first lost his real father, Jack? What had Davy done, to lose the only 'nice grownup' in the world he started to trust, after his own 'father' had abused him all his life? Where was our so-called 'Spirit Guide', Jack, now that we really needed his help? Jack had promised to HELP us whenever necessary, but where was he now?

I remembered what Christian once told me about Jack:

"From now on, Jack will be both your personal Spirit Guide and your Direct Contact, and he will continue to help and guide you, your son, and your steadily growing family from The Beyond, when and wherever necessary."

Only, where was my so-called 'steadily growing family' now? Had everything about our 'spirit helper' been fake, only a weird product of my own imagination? Could everything I remembered about our 'past lives' have been only a big illusion, or some wishful dream? Of course, everybody knows that dead is dead, and death is the definite end of everything! Therefore, 'spirit helpers' could be nothing more than only silly fairy tales. I must have been foolish to believe in them!

Again, that stupid telephone in my living room started to ring, and its irritating sound made me furious. Dammit! Why couldn't those sales representatives leave me alone? I didn't need their beneficial mortgages or super-low priced subscriptions! From now on, I only needed one thing: I desperately needed my boys back, with their joyful pranks and always-happy bantering.

After several more rings, my telephone finally stopped. Only, immediately, it started to ring again! Growing more and more angry, I thought about going downstairs and smash it against a wall, to silence it for good. What would I still need a telephone for; now that I would be all alone for the remainder of my gloomy life? Angrily, I blocked its irritating sound from my mind; hoping that my persistent caller would give up and finally leave me alone.

Still feeling tired and awful, I left my bed, while thinking about throwing my double waterbed away and buying a single one. What did I need a double bed for, now that I would be living all alone without anybody else sleeping next to me or lying spread out all over my stomach as some affectionate little octopus?

Carefully, I hobbled to my bathroom, while trying to spare my painful feet full of nasty blisters and my still aching leg muscles that had been strained way too much. I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, returned to my bedroom, and dressed in something casual. Next, I hobbled downstairs to brew my first cup of coffee.

Alas, my kitchen too felt totally empty, because I again missed my always-laughing and happily chatting boys. Again, I nearly started to cry, because I missed my boys terribly! Where would they be now? Would they too miss our mutual love and close togetherness, or had they already forgotten about me and would they just go on with their daily lives as if nothing special had happened?

Again, I stopped my upcoming sadness and my too depressing thoughts. Then, I forced myself to eat at least some toast and cheese, while trying not to think of my little cookie and John working together, preparing their healthy sandwiches while talking to each other in their minds. Still feeling horrible, I swallowed my scanty meal down with a cup of strong coffee, and took a few aspirins to fend off my again upcoming headache.

Finally, I hobbled on my sore feet to my still lifeless feeling living room and slumped down on my couch. From now on, this would be my one and only sanctuary. Still trying to block out my disturbing emotions, I closed my eyes and restarted to think...

What was I going to do, now that I would be all alone in Jack's former house for the remainder of my life? Was I going to sit down on my usual couch and wait until death mercifully ended my misery? Only, what else could I do? Did I have a choice, other than ending my lonesome life by committing suicide?

For quite some time, I thought and thought, until my brain started to mull around and think in circles. All the time, my thoughts kept coming back to only one thing... I desperately wanted my boys back! However, that was impossible, because our always-watching Big Brother police would immediately arrest me and lock me up in a cell, if they ever saw another young child enter my house.

How could I ever escape from my lonesome misery that was forced upon me by our Big Brother society but that I absolutely didn't deserve? Should I really try to commit suicide, and wait for a new incarnation that would bring my boys and me together? Or, should I migrate towards another country and have a clean start, without any more disturbing memories from my happy past?

Perhaps, I would be able to find little Prince Harold's Gypsy camp, surrounded by huge mountains with their beautifully glowing tops? Perhaps, after their little Crown Prince grew up and became their new Beloved Gypsy Leader, we could be together again...

Again, I started to cry, this time from pure desperation. The only REAL solution I could see was to have my boys back, here and now, in my own house! However, the very moment the police saw any child in my house, they would immediately arrest me. Society had effectively blocked all my ways out of my predicament...

All the time, my thoughts kept milling around only one thing: I desperately wanted my boys back! Nothing else mattered any more.

AGAIN, my telephone started to ring! Dammit! Why couldn't they leave me alone in my despair and sadness? I didn't need anything anymore from anybody, except for having my boys back, here in my own house! Should I really grab that stupid receiver and smash it against a wall, to silence it for good? While glaring at the irritating thing, I cursed loudly until it finally stopped again:

"Shut up with your daily newspapers! I don't need any cheap mortgages or sales promotions! From now on, I don't need anything any more. This time, it has been too much for me to endure, and I am soon going to end my miserable life! My happy existence is over anyway; and I am NOT going to sit on this stupid couch for the rest of my life in total solitude while longing for my boys. Within a few minutes from now, I will be out of here, hopefully waiting to be reunited with my little soul mate and with our best friend, if we ever meet again during our next incarnations..."

At last, my irritating phone stopped ringing again, and I took a very deep breath and restarted thinking. How could I best end my miserable life? Throw myself under a train? Jump off a tall building? Eat some deadly pills? Slash my wrists? Hang myself? It had to be fast and painless...

Alas, my inside already knew I was a coward and certainly lacked the necessary courage to kill myself. Although I could fantasize about committing suicide, I would never be able to really do it.

Where was our so-called 'Spirit Guide', now that my boys and I desperately needed his help? Why hadn't Jack warned us in advance, so that I could have escaped with my boys? My little Shaman had always talked to his former Big Friend with ease; so, why hadn't Jack told HIM at least something? Even John seemed to be able to feel Jack's ghostly presence, although only vague.

Besides, why didn't Jack pull ME into a so-called 'induced trance', to explain why he had decided to abandon my boys and me? Or, had everything around our 'spirit guide' been only fake, only a product of my own silly imagination? It had to be... Trying to contact my 'spirit guide', I suddenly shouted into my living room:

"Jack, where are you? I NEED you! JACK... JAAAAAAACK..."

Alas. As I already suspected, nobody answered my desperate cries for help. Nobody showed up to 'talk' to me in my inside; not even my own little brother with his 'feeling of harmony'. Desperately, I tried to force myself into Jack's 'induced trance', but my consciousness just stayed put. Feeling more and more desperate, I tried to force myself into Jack's 'unearthly light', but nothing happened.

AGAIN, that damned telephone started to ring! Now, I decided I had more than enough of it! This time, I was going to kill that irritating phone with my bare hands, by smashing it against a wall until it finally silenced for good.

Angrily, I rose from my couch and cursed loudly:

"Dammit! Leave me ALONE, all of you, because I don't want to talk to anybody anymore, never, ever again! From now on, I will take all matters into my own hands, and I am going to force myself to end my miserable life; but I am first going to smash that dammed telephone against a wall! From now on, no one will be able to disturb me ever again, to take away my last pieces of serenity."

Feeling furious, I stormed towards my desk, on my way nearly stumbling over my own sore feet. Cursing and swearing, I snatched the receiver from its cradle, almost breaking its cord. With an angry shout, I threw my arm backwards, ready to release all my built-up anger and agony and built-up frustration onto my irritating telephone.

Exactly at that same moment, an unseen person forcefully pushed my arm down, by effectively laming all my arm muscles!

In my inside, I heard the panicking voice of Jack who shouted:

"NO! Please, STOP it. Don't do this! You have to listen first."

Feeling dizzy and disorientated and with a lamed arm, I didn't believe myself any more. Again, I was making up that voice of that non-existing 'ghost' in my inside! This time, I even fantasized that he pushed my arm down, so that my lamed arm muscles reacted to my hallucinations! Obviously, I had to call a shrink immediately, to put me under medication and suppress my delusions! What ridiculous coincidence that I happened to be such a shrink myself...

Although my angry brain went on thinking and muttering, my unconscious mind reacted to Jack's panicking voice and forced me to calm down. Surprisingly, within two seconds, my anger left me and my dizziness went away. Much to my astonishment, my lamed arm recovered almost immediately, as if somebody trustfully released it.

Was really Jack around me, and had really my Spirit Guide asked me to listen to my telephone, before I smashed it against a wall? Reluctantly, I brought the receiver to my ear and listened...

For a couple of seconds, I didn't hear anything at all, except for maybe some faint breathing in the background. Again, I started to feel angry, and almost put the too silent receiver back onto its cradle. Obviously, my annoying caller didn't even bother to explain why he had phoned me, time and again, even in the middle of the night...

Then, I thought I heard a faint sobbing sound, as if some little kid tried to muffle its cries. Who could that be? Clearly, this was NOT a persistent sales representative who wanted to try to sell me something 'important' that I absolutely didn't need!

Hesitantly, I told the more and more sobbing receiver:

"Hello? Who is this?"

Immediately, a well-known deep baritone voice responded:

"Daddy? Is this really you? Then, why didn't you answer my calls before? Where have you been all the time? John and I were sooo afraid that we would never see you again... We phoned you many times, during the day and even at night, but you never answered our calls and you also forgot to switch on your answering machine. All the time, we were terribly afraid the police would keep you in that prison forever and that I would be an orphan again... Last night, every time I fell asleep, I woke up with frightening nightmares. Then, John tried to call you again, but again you didn’t answer your phone, and I felt so desperate that I almost started to puke... John and I are missing you terribly, Daddy, and we need you! Please, Daddy, could you come over and get John and me, because we want to go home and have our own rooms back in your house. Please?"

Nearly choking up from my welling emotions, I responded:

"Harry? My boy, is this really you? My baby, where are you? My precious little soul mate, what have they done to you? I've missed you so badly, and my house feels so empty without John and you..."

"John and I've missed you badly too, Daddy, and we still miss you terribly! Please, could you take your car and drive to John's grandma to take us back home? John is here too, and both of us want to go home with you and feel safe and happy again..."

"Then, where are John and you? Of course, I will immediately take my car and drive to John's grandma to take you back home! Could you please tell me the address?"

"I don't know. But here comes Mom... err... John's mother."

Thirty seconds later, I closed my front door and raced outside. Careful not to lose it, I clamped a small piece of paper with Trudy's temporary address in my hand. My blistered feet were still sore and my leg muscles ached, but my heart danced around in my chest from pure happiness. My loneliness was over, and I was going to collect my precious little soul mate and my very best young friend!

When I reached my car, I first had to go to the backside of our house, to get Jack's hidden key from its nail and open the backdoor. Only, where was that rusty key? I was sure I had used it yesterday! Desperately, I tried to recall what I had done after I opened the backdoor. Then, I saw the key, still sticking out of its keyhole where I forgot to put it back onto its nail after I unlocked the door. Clearly, I was REALLY becoming a forgetful old man!

Hastily, I opened the backdoor and stormed into my house. After snatching my keys and my wallet from my desk in my living room, I nearly forgot to relock the backdoor in my hurry to collect my boys.

Next, I felt so excited that I couldn't start the engine, and had to try again. Hurriedly driving away, I almost crashed into a lamppost and had to brake into a screeching halt to avoid a collision.

Finally calming down, I told myself that, driving like this, I would probably end up in a hospital! Therefore, I first took a couple of deep breaths, and forced myself to calm down and start driving more careful. Fortunately, that helped a little bit. Chuckling, I remembered my little soul mate who tapped my shoulder and begged:

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

I had to drive about fifty miles; so I sincerely hoped I wouldn't lose my way, because I didn't have a map and only vaguely knew where I had to go. Fortunately, after leaving my village, I recognized the surroundings and remembered driving this same road two days ago. Then, John and little Harry had occupied the rear seats, while happily singing along with some funny song. Smiling at the joyful memory, I bent forward and switched my car stereo on.

As by chance, that same song resonated from my car speakers:

"You are soooo beauuuutifuuuullll..."

Normally, I wasn't superstitious; but this HAD to be a good sign!

An hour later, I entered the unknown town, still clamping my precious piece of paper with my boys' address in my hand. Now, I only had to find out where I could find that address. Therefore, I stopped at a small bookstore, to inquire where I had to go.

The storeowner took my piece of paper, looked at the address, and then told me to buy a city map. After buying the newest map, I drove on, still trying to find out where I had to go...

With the help of my new map, I finally found the correct street and happily parked my old car along its curb. Next, I got out and started to look for the correct house number...

Suddenly, a door opened, and two happy looking boys catapulted themselves through the air and landed on me with loud Indian shouts and broadly smiling faces! I lost my balance; and all three of us tumbled onto the sidewalk, where we immediately entangled into each other. Happily, we sobbed, kissed, rubbed faces to faces, and told each other how terribly we had missed each other.

In the meantime, both boys had started to compete for the best place on my stomach, as usual. I really had my boys back, alive and kicking! Almost crying from sheer happiness, I savored this precious moment of having my two boys in my arms again. Nothing would ever be able to equal this wonderful feeling of sudden relief.

For quite some time, we just continued to hold onto each other with all of our might; while I closed my arms around my precious boys and inwardly planned not to let them go ever again! All three of us were still sobbing and laughing, while telling each other how great we felt now that we finally were reunited again.

While enjoying our happiness and our renewed close togetherness very much, I suddenly thought I smelled something stinky, like some huge turd of dog crap. Well, because we were lying on the sidewalk, we could have rolled into something inappropriate...

Trying not to offend my precious young friends, I proposed:

"Boys, I love you with all my heart, but let's go inside. Okay?"

After quickly reading my thoughts, my little Shaman chuckled and looked a bit naughty, while he told me:

"Daddy, I still love your heart and your soul, but your body stinks of dog poop!"

Involuntarily, I started to bellow with laughter, followed suit by my two happy boys. Then, we carefully disentangled from each other, while trying not to touch anything stinky.

First, we searched and sniffed each other's clothes. Then, we carefully looked around without moving too much. Soon, we saw the culprit: an enormous dog turd that was deposited only a foot away from where we had been lying!

Very carefully, while trying not to touch it, we crawled away from the stinking mound and stood up. Both boys grabbed my hands and enthusiastically dragged me towards their temporary home, where Trudy happily smiled at us from the already open front door.

Waiting for us in the doorway, Trudy greeted me:

"Welcome to my humble birthplace; and I hope you survived the boys' attacks in good health?"

Before I had time to respond, my little soul mate chuckled:

"Look out, Mom, because Big Harry stinks of dog poop!"

Again, all of us started to bellow with laughter, this time including Trudy. Trying not to stumble too much, with both boys hanging on my arms, I entered Trudy's temporary home, where my happy duo clearly intended to clamp onto me for the remainder of their lives! Together, we struggled through the small front door, and it was a good thing that none of us were too fat.

Inside her mother's house, Trudy guided us to a huge leather couch in the living room. Immediately, my little soul mate nestled onto my lap, while John worked himself under my left arm and snuggled up against my side as usual. Obviously, both boys had missed our close togetherness at least as much as I had missed them!

Smiling at both happily beaming boys, Trudy asked me:

"Shall I first brew some fresh coffee, to help you recover from such a long drive towards here?"

"With two lumps of sugar and no milk, Mom," my little soul mate immediately added.

Happily, he tried to melt into me even further, while telling me:

"I've missed you so badly, and I was sooo terribly afraid that I would never see you again..."

From under my arm, John added, with an accusing look:

"Next time, first switch your answering machine on before we get arrested again! After Mom collected us from that police station and brought us here, Harry and I have tried to phone you all day and all night, because we couldn't sleep or sit still for a second. Only, you never answered our calls, and we were afraid that those police officers would keep you forever in their police cells..."

In silence, we sipped our drinks and nibbled on our cookies. Now and then, we stared at each other, to assure ourselves that we really were reunited and together again...

Then, my analytical mind started to ponder again. How would we go on from here? Wouldn't those Big Brother police officers arrest me again, the moment they found out that my two boys were back in my house? Of course, I didn't want to lose them ever again!

12. A helpful lawyer; and being home again.

While we sat together on her couch and silently sipped our drinks, Trudy started to tell me her amazing story:

Yesterday, early in the morning, a police officer called Trudy, to inform her that the public prosecutor had started an investigation. He was concerned about a male newcomer in town who had befriended her oldest son and a little Gypsy boy who was in her custody. Both boys had spent the night in the man's house and probably in the man's bed; while a third boy had left his house while crying and nearly naked. This morning, they had detained the man, together with both boys, and brought them to their police station to be questioned by a trained interrogator. Now, the officer asked Trudy to accuse the man of doing improper things to her boys, so that they could imprison him.

At first, Trudy felt a bit overpowered by the officer, and she also didn't know what to think of such an unexpected request. For a moment, she even became angry with me; because she believed the officer and thought I had done improper things to her boys. Feeling betrayed, because she had trusted me absolutely, she almost told the police officer to arrest me and lock me up! Then, she realized that John would never allow anybody to do anything improper to little Harry or to himself, without immediately raising hell and the devil! How could she be so gullible to believe this officer's obvious slander, while she knew that John was an excellent judge of character and had told her he loved me and trusted me absolutely.

Quickly pulling herself together, Trudy told the officer in very clear words that both boys were staying in my house with her consent, I was a good friend of the family, she trusted me absolutely, and she didn't have any reason to doubt my behavior. Therefore, she forbade the officer to interrogate John and little Harry, and demanded that both boys be returned to her immediately! The disappointed sounding officer still tried to convince her otherwise; but she threatened him with a lawsuit and told him to leave her two boys alone from this very moment on. Within an hour, she would show up at their police station, to collect her two boys and take them home as soon as possible.

Next, she phoned her brother, who immediately came over to help her. He drove her to the police station; where she threw an enormous tantrum, told the police officers they were idiots, and reclaimed her children NOW! There was no legal way the police officers could refuse; so, five minutes later, everybody was on their way back home. Two very distraught boys sat in the rear seats, crying and holding each other, still being very concerned about me. Sobbingly, they told Trudy everything about their new friend, Davy, who panicked when he saw Big Harry in the doorway and suddenly remembered his own 'father' who always abused him in the shower.

After Trudy returned into her mother's house, she immediately called a lawyer. She told him her unbelievable story, and asked him what he could do to help me out of my arduous situation.

The lawyer told her he couldn't do very much for me at this moment; but he assured her she had done exactly the right thing by immediately claiming her boys. He also advised her to prevent the police from any further actions against me, by immediately granting me legal guardianship of both boys. If she wanted to, he would prepare all the necessary papers in advance, so that she and I only had to sign them and he could verify and deposit them.

Without any hesitation, Trudy said yes! However, to be able to transfer her legal guardianship to me, she also needed her husband's permission. Therefore, she went straight to Eric's office and made an enormous scene, until Eric conceded and just signed all the necessary papers without reading them or even looking at them. Trudy thanked Eric politely, and told him to leave her and her children alone from this very moment on. If she ever saw him around her house again, she would immediately have him arrested for stalking her and abandoning his own children!

Now, Trudy's lawyer needed a couple of signatures from me and from herself, and I also had to obtain an official 'proof of conduct' to indicate that I had never been convicted for any serious crime. In advance, Trudy had already made an appointment to sign the papers in her lawyer's office this afternoon. She only wanted to ask me for one more thing: could I please pay her lawyer for his services, because Eric had left her and her children without any provisions at all, and she had barely enough money left to buy food and the most necessary household things...

While Trudy looked at me with a questioning face, I felt totally dumbstruck and completely flabbergasted! Trudy was willing to grant me legal guardianship of both John and little Harry, just like that? The only things I had to do were to sign a couple of legal papers and obtain an official proof of conduct? Of course, I would happily pay Trudy's lawyer for his valuable services, whatever his price might be! I would also help Trudy out, with more than enough household money to pay for everything that she needed!

However, where was the catch? This sounded way too easy for my always-wary analytical brain! Could I really accept Trudy's generous offer, or was I overlooking something important?

Suddenly, I remembered Jack's serious voice that warned me:

"My dear brother, please don't be afraid, because everything will turn out for the best. You will have a difficult time, but you will come through it okay; and, in the end, there will be victory."

Now, I felt truly ashamed of blaming our Spirit Guide for not helping my boys and me! Obviously, Jack HAD warned me in advance; but, in my anger and despair, I had totally forgotten about his warning and his promise that there would be victory. I had even cursed at him and accused him falsely, because my old and rusty brain didn't remember his reassuring words. Well, Jack had turned out to be absolutely right! This certainly was 'victory', much more than I ever could have anticipated! Feeling terribly ashamed of my obvious forgetfulness, I humbly bowed my head. Hoping that our Spirit Guide would hear me, I asked him in my mind:

'Jack, could you please forgive me my ignorance? Again, I didn't listen to my own heart...'

Immediately, I heard Jack's warm voice in my inside, explaining:

"My dear brother, there is nothing to forgive, because you needed this profound experience to learn to trust your own heart even more. Of course, we, your Spirit Friends and Beloved Ancestors, never left you; but we couldn't intervene until you had learned your lessons first. Now, go sign your legal papers, and enjoy the happy reunion with your steadily growing family. Be blessed!"

This time, even my meddlesome brain refused to doubt, while I really started to believe in a new future for my boys and for myself! I was reunited with my boys, and I still could raise my little soul mate until he would be old enough to fend for himself. Hopefully, I also would be able to help Davy overcome his remaining fears, after I had explained what had happened to Mary first.

Now, my inside felt full of renewed energy, while I looked forward to a blissful future for all of us! Happily, I thanked Jack in my mind, and he sent me his powerful Cosmic Love in return. Then, I thanked Trudy for her generous offer. I promised her to sign all the necessary legal papers; and, of course, I would pay her lawyer for his valuable services. Fortunately, I still had enough money to spend, even after my boy's expensive skin transplant; and Trudy and her children could always count on me, whenever needed.

After I sank back onto the couch, my little soul mate told me:

"Those police officers were so mean, Dad. All the time, they kept telling me you had a bad influence on me, and you did improper things to me by letting me sleep next to you in your double waterbed. All the time, I told them that I WANTED to sleep next to you, but they didn't listen to me and just went on and on. Then, they started to ask me their silly questions, like what had you done to me in the shower, where had you washed me, had you ever played with my private parts, had you ever put your finger where it didn't belong? They kept going on and on, while I heard John scream and shout from another cell room. I wanted to see John, but they didn't allow me. At last, I started to scream and stamp my feet from fury! I told them they were crazy and that you are the bestest Dad in the whole world! I love you with all my heart, my mind, and my soul; and I WANT to be with you for the rest of my life, to let you raise and educate me until I will be old enough to be able to fend for myself! Suddenly, another police officer called the officers away; and Mom and an uncle showed up, rescued John and me, and took us towards here."

After my boy stopped, John added, with a dark glow in his eyes:

"I told both officers to go to hell and that I wanted to help my little brother first, but they didn't even listen to me. They just kept asking the same silly questions over and again; until I stopped talking and kept my mouth shut. Then, Mom and Uncle Tim arrived and freed us. Only, the officers told Mom they were still interrogating you, and we were terribly afraid that they would keep you in your cell forever. Immediately when we arrived here, Mom called her lawyer, and he reassured us that they couldn't lock you up for much longer. From then on, Harry and I took turns calling you, during the whole day and even during the night, but you never answered your phone and you hadn't switched on your answering machine..."

Feeling a little bit ashamed and guilty, I explained:

"Before the police officers let me go, they warned me they would keep a very close eye on my house from now on, to make sure that no young child would visit me ever again! Therefore, when my phone started to ring, I just assumed that a stranger was calling the wrong number, and I let it ring. Until Jack urged me to pick up the receiver from its cradle and listen to my persistent caller..."

For several seconds, all of us stayed deep in thought. Then, Trudy asked us if we were hungry and cared for a couple of sandwiches. Of course, my little cookie immediately hopped off my lap and followed her towards her kitchen. Soon, he was performing his tasty magic, with the help of a few kitchen spices and a couple of ordinary vegetables. Even without using his special herbs, my little chef turned out to be the best cook in the whole world! After stilling our hunger and drinking some fresh orange juice, we were ready to go.

First, we drove to a nearby town hall, to get my 'legal proof of conduct'. Surprisingly, my little soul mate didn't even think about hiding his burnt face! He just switched on his powerful aura of Aristocracy, took my hand, and happily joined us inside. Wherever we went, nobody stared at him, pointed at him, or made any rude comments. My little Gypsy Prince's proud demeanor of Pure Royalty seemed to fend off every witty remark really effectively!

Walking together, we went to a ticket window, where I had to show my identity card and pay a small fee. Twenty minutes later, they handed me an official paper, stating that I was a trustworthy person and had never been convicted or confined. My little soul mate snatched the paper out of my hand, read it, and chuckled:

"As an ex-jailbird who just escaped from the police, you better carry this official paper with you all the time!"

I tried to grab my insolent imp, but he reacted too fast for me and quickly dived away behind John. Well, I will try to get back to him later on. After I put my official paper in my wallet, we returned to my car and drove to Trudy's lawyer, while Trudy told me the way.

Trudy's lawyer greeted us, and immediately took us to his office, where he first asked for our identity cards and copied them. Then, he laid out several papers in front of Trudy and me, to read them and sign them. Next, he asked me to sign another couple of papers, this time from Children's Protection Services. He had already contacted CPS in advance; and, by exception, they were willing to change Harry's custody within a few days.

For the time being, CPS already granted me temporary custody of their little Gypsy orphan, until their official papers would be ready.

At hearing our lawyer's words, my boy jumped up and shouted:

"YESSS! Finally, I am your son for REAL, and we can never lose each other again! Dad, I am so happy..."

With a brightly beaming face and sparkling eyes, my boy crawled onto my lap and melted into my arms; while our broadly smiling lawyer explained that, now that I was the legal guardian of both John and Harry, I also was responsible for their welfare and upbringing. And, from now on, no police officer could take my boys away from me without a court order! In advance, he had already sent a memo to their public prosecutor, so that no police officer would harass us any more without a very solid reason. Did I have any questions?

Involuntarily thinking about my boy's still unknown Gypsy origin, I hesitatingly asked our lawyer:

"Yes, I do have a question for you! Could you please try to find my youngest son's unknown Gypsy relatives?"

Quickly, our lawyer switched on a voice recorder, and pointed its microphone towards my boy. Then, he started to ask him and me several meaningful questions about what we already knew of Harry's Gypsy past and what exactly had happened to him.

With a slightly trembling baritone voice, my little soul mate told our lawyer what he remembered from his early youth. He told him about his mountains with their beautifully glowing tops, the caravans in a circle around their glowing campfire, and his surrounding woods and dense forests. Trembling from his again returning remembrances, he told our lawyer about the nasty police raids, the witch-hunts, and his parents and him fleeing in a spare caravan and traveling through several foreign countries, until their caravan burnt down and he landed in a hospital with a severely burnt face and body. Due to the searing pain, his brain shut down all his memories from his Gypsy past, so that he couldn't even remember his own Gypsy name, 'Harold Romani', and he also forgot that he was their little Gypsy Crown Prince and of royal herot... err... herat-something?

Looking very surprised, our lawyer exclaimed:

"You think you are a Crown Prince and of Royal Heritage?"

"Oh yeah, the correct word is 'heritage'. Sorry sir; but, in your language, it's still a difficult word..."

"Well, that sounds absolutely marvelous! I mean, this should make finding your Gypsy relatives quite a lot easier! Could you please remember the name of the country you originate from?"

"Sorry, sir, I still don't remember its name; but I think my country sounded like my last name, Romani."

"Well, I am already very pleased with your detailed information; and, listening to your foreign accent, I think you may originate from Rumania. Could you please speak a couple of words in your OWN language? For example, could you tell your own Gypsy people where you are living now and that you still miss them?"

For a few seconds, my little Gypsy Crown Prince remained silent, obviously searching his memory for his own Gypsy language that he hadn't spoken for two long years. Then, he bent over towards the microphone, and told it a couple of strange sounding words.

Although I couldn't understand a single word, our lawyer seemed to be very pleased, because he responded:

"Thank you very much! I am almost sure that you originate from Rumania, because your words really sound Balkan. I also think I'm having enough information to start searching for your lost relatives; and I promise I will do everything that I can to find your own Gypsy people as soon as possible."

We thanked our lawyer for his invaluable help, and I promised him a retainer with enough money to cover his first expenses. Then, my little soul mate threw his arms around our lawyer's waist and hugged him, making the man blush fiercely. Still blushing, he walked us to his front door, where he again promised to do his utmost to find little Prince Harold's own Gypsy people as soon as possible.

In a happy mood, we returned to our car and drove back to Trudy's temporary home; where, much to our surprise, Mark and Marrie opened the front door and let us in! In their living room, we met Trudy's mother and politely shook hands. She had been shopping with her grandchildren to give her daughter and us some private space.

Again, we had to tell our stories; and Trudy's mother reacted with astonishment and indignation. We were living in a strange world, weren’t we? What a horrible idea, to have such a nosy neighbor around, spying on you and sending reports to the police. Fortunately, everything had turned out for the best and we were together again. From now on, we could forget our nasty adventure, and we could go on with our lives as if nothing had happened...

Furtively, my boys and I stole glances at each other. Outwardly, we nodded in agreement; but, inwardly, we decided to agree rather than go into an emotional discussion. We had nothing to gain, and nobody would really understand what terrible ordeal we had been living through. I thanked Trudy again for her help and trust, and promised to take good care of both her oldest son and my own boy. Little Harry and John hugged and kissed her, and promised her to be good boys and always listen to their new foster Dad. Then, we went to our car and drove off, waving at them until we rounded a corner.

Both boys sat in our rear seats, obviously feeling very happy to go home. I scanned our car stereo for some nice background music, but our special song didn't pop up. Soon, we started to sing along with another nice tune, now and then looking annoyed when the next dull advertisement block showed up. Slowly, our joyful feelings of loving each other and being together started to return.

An hour later, I backed our car into our own driveway, and we were HOME. My little soul mate snatched my keys out of my hands, as usual, and quickly opened our front door, to let everybody enter. First, we lined up in our hallway, waiting our turn to bless our ceramic god. Then, we entered our kitchen, where my boys helped me with coffee and colas as usual. We took our drinks to our living room and sat down on our own couch, very close to each other as usual.

Sitting together on our couch as usual, our living room still felt very strange, as if it wasn't our own room any more. The desperation of the past events still hung around, draping itself around everything as a dark cloud. All our drawers were still open, our computer showed us its backside, and my floppies and Davy's CD games were still spread out over my desk. The contents of my opened cardboard boxes still littered our floor, and nearly nothing was in its usual place.

My little soul mate looked around at everything with sheer anguish in his suddenly teary eyes, while he shivered:

"Dad? Could we please make our house normal again? Those nasty police officers have made such a terrible mess of everything... I almost hate them for what they have done to you and to us; and I want to forget everything about them as soon as possible!"

Of course, John and I agreed, and we left our couch and started working. First, we freed our house from all the desperation and negative energies; by opening its windows and doors to let the feelings of desperation out and lots of fresh air in. Then, we took a hot shower and thoroughly washed each other, to clean our bodies from all the negativity. Now feeling much cleaner, we started to clear out all the disturbances of our unwelcome police visit.

Working together, we tidied all the drawers, emptied all the remaining cardboard boxes, and put the contents away into the appropriate places. We restored our computer, piled Davy's DC games up, vacuumed the floor, and cleaned our furniture; until, finally, our house started to feel fresh and clean again!

Little Harry and John wanted to go to a nearby market to buy some flowers, candles, and incense. This time, my boy took his mask from his green model and put it on, with a little help from John. After I handed them some money, they happily strolled away, with their arms around each other's shoulders as usual.

Within half an hour, they were back; and John quickly arranged a nice bouquet of flowers while my boy lit some pleasant smelling incense. Soon, our house filled with a nice fragrance; and our home restarted to feel like HOME. Feeling more and more content, we sat on our couch and very much enjoyed each other's pleasant company and close togetherness. Both boys leaned into me, while I folded my arms around them, sitting together as if nothing had happened. Everything seemed to be 'normal' again...

Suddenly, our loud doorbell rang, its harsh sound reverberating through the entire house! In shock, I jumped up, while my heart nearly leapt out of my throat. Could some nosy neighbor have called the police and told them that both boys had reentered my house? Or, had our Big Brother police arrived at our house to imprison me, as they had told me they would do if they saw a child enter my house?

My little soul mate started to tremble all over, suddenly looking pale. Trying to disappear into my aura, he curled up into a tight ball while shuddering from fear. Obviously, my boy went through the same alarming thoughts that I had; while John cursed furiously and balled his fists in raging anger. With fire-shooting eyes, he stormed to our front door, obviously ready to murder all the meddlesome police officers in the world. We heard him open our front door...

Then, a boyish voice sounded in our hallway and chuckled:

"What's up, John? Why are you looking so angry?"

From our hallway, we heard John mumble some lame excuse, and the voice started to laugh. Then, John returned into our living room, followed by a happy looking Davy who approvingly sniffed the air.

Looking genuinely happy to see us, Davy exclaimed:

"It smells really good here! I have been at your house before, but nobody was home and your car was away. Therefore, I decided to come back later. I only hoped that the police would no longer detain you... Yesterday morning, a police officer asked Mom a couple of silly questions about you, but Mom told him to shut up with his slander and leave her and me alone. Did they really ARREST you?"

13. Eating out; a 'golden' Chinese restaurant.

Soon, John started to tell Davy everything about our detaining adventure: Yesterday morning, two police officers arrested us, locked us up in their police car, and took us to their police station, where they separated us into three different cells. Another police officer started to ask him several questions about Dad's conduct; but he told the man to shut up and go to hell! All he wanted to do was help his little brother, who he heard sobbing and screaming in an adjacent cell. Only, the bloodsucker didn't allow him to help Harry, but just kept on asking his stupid questions about me, and whether I ever tried to do anything improper with him or with Harry...

At last, John advised the officer to shut up and leave him alone, because the man didn't seem to know anything about REAL love and mutual respect. His Big Friend was a very reliable and trustworthy man who would never do anything improper to any child or grownup. Hadn't they ever heard of young children needing lots of Tender Loving Care from a grownup in their lives, to feel safe and protected? Suddenly, his Mom and Uncle Tim showed up and rescued Harry and him, although the officers still went on interrogating Dad...

Today, his Mom's lawyer had filed a couple of official papers that granted Big Harry legal custody over Harry and over himself until they would be at least eighteen years old. Now, Dad was their legal guardian, and nobody could ever take him or Harry away from his new Dad without a court order or another very solid reason!

For quite some time, Davy stared at my boys and at me with a bewildered look on his face, as if he hadn't expected that we went through such a terrible ordeal! Finally, he sat down next to me and leaned into my right side, while John leaned into my left side and my little soul mate retook his usual place on my lap. Again, we stayed deep in thought, still thinking of those police officers and of what they had done to us. Fortunately for us, everything had turned out for the best, we were reunited again, and our Spirit Guide had been absolutely right by telling me that in the end there would be victory! Now that I was the legal guardian of both John and little Harry, no police officer in the world could ever take my boys away from me without a court order, which would be highly unlikely!

After a long time of just sitting together, Davy turned around and looked at me with a deep longing in his dark brown eyes. While scooting even closer against my side, my 'third son' asked me:

"Could you please adopt me too? I want you to be my Dad too..."

To be honest, I didn't feel surprised at all to hear Davy wanting to be my 'third son'! After 'reading' his outstretching aura, I only was surprised that I couldn't find any jealousy, but only a deep longing to have a real Dad who really loved him. Well, did I really want to be Davy's 'new Dad', next to John's and little Harry's? After consulting my Own Heart, its loud and clear answer was a distinct yes!

While pulling Davy's firm frame even closer, I responded:

"Thank you very much, Davy, for giving me such a wonderful compliment. And, yes Davy, I would love to be your adopted Dad! Only, of course, you will have to ask your mother's permission first."

Showing me a happily beaming face, Davy responded:

"Okay, Dad, I will ask my Mom's permission as soon as I get home! But may I please start calling you 'Dad' in advance?"

Stealthily, I looked at John who sat next to me, and at my little soul mate who sat on my lap. Would my two 'legal' sons feel jealous, if I allowed their newest friend to call me 'Dad' as well? How would my two adopted boys react to Davy's unexpected question?

Only, my fears already turned out to be ungrounded. My little Shaman had already picked up my thoughts, because he looked up at me and eagerly nodded his head; while John already stared at me with very much love in his deep brown eyes. Obviously, my two 'legal' sons weren't jealous at all, and they only welcomed their 'new brother' into our steadily growing family! After a few seconds of silence, John told me with a happy sounding voice:

"Dad, I am sure that you already ARE Davy's new Dad; and I am also sure that Harry immediately agrees!"

This time, my little soul mate almost lost his head nodding again. Yes, he too felt very happy to have Davy as his second 'big brother', next to John who of course had first rights. How could we ever be in any doubt about such a self-evident thing...

Davy started to cry from sheer happiness, while he sobbed:

"Thank you very much, Dad, for wanting to be my new Dad; and John and Harry for wanting to be my new brothers. Finally, I have a real Dad who really loves me, and I now have two new 'brothers' who really love me too! I am so happy..."

After a long time of cuddling and feeling happy, my three boys' hungry stomachs started to rumble, telling us it was nearly six o'clock and time for dinner! All four of us started to laugh, while we slowly disentangled from each other and looked at our clock on the wall. My little soul mate quickly jumped off my lap and trotted towards our kitchen, followed by John and Davy, because they wanted to start preparing one of our little cookie's famous dinners.

Only, after all the emotional turmoil we had been through, this evening, I thought about granting my three boys and me a little extravagance, by eating out and having dinner at a Chinese restaurant. Eating out would also relieve my little soul mate from his self-allotted task as our little chief cookie. Therefore, I called my hungry looking threesome back, and asked them:

"Boys, what do you think? Shall we eat out this evening and have dinner at a Chinese restaurant?"

Both John and Davy reacted elated, while they already trotted to our hallway to put on their shoes! Obviously, my two young friends liked Chinese food very much. Only my little soul mate seemed to hesitate. Why was that? His enveloping aura felt a bit uneasy, as if he was confused. For a few seconds, he remained silent, as if pondering the idea of eating at a real Chinese restaurant...

Then, sounding a bit nervous, his deep baritone voice asked:

"Isn't a 'Chinese restaurant' too far away from here? How can we get there; and what if they don't speak our language, or they don't accept your credit card and want only Chinese money for payment?"

For several seconds, John and Davy only stared at their youngest friend; with confused faces, as if they didn't understand what little Harry could be thinking. Then, they started to bellow with laughter, slapping their knees and rolling on the carpeted floor from sudden fun! Davy even started to tease their still confused looking little friend, about digging a tunnel in our backyard to reach a foreign country that is almost at the opposite side of the earth...

After they finally calmed down, John explained:

"Of course, a 'Chinese' restaurant doesn't mean the restaurant is in China! It's just a restaurant in a nearby town in our own country; but all their cooks and waiters are of Chinese origin, and they will prepare their original country's specialties for us to eat."

My little soul mate seemed to feel relieved, because he suddenly jumped towards his still chuckling friends and attacked them. A second later, all three boys were rolling around on our floor, tickling each other's sensitive spots wherever they could reach them. At last, I threatened them to behave, or else we would stay home!

Although I didn't mean it, they listened to my threat and quickly raced upstairs to wash up, comb their hair, and don their neatest clothes. Now looking very nice, we decided to go to Davy's house first, to invite his mother to join us towards our Chinese restaurant.

Just before I closed our front door, John quickly dived past me and raced back inside! After returning, he demonstratively put my keys and my wallet into HIS pockets... Yeah well, obviously, I really was becoming a forgetful old man! I thanked a still chuckling John for rescuing me again, which made my little soul mate look at me with a naughty face. However, he didn't say anything, probably from fear of staying home. Walking together, we went to Mary's house.

A happy looking Mary invited us in. Of course, we first had to tell her everything about being detained and interrogated! Filling each other in, we told her everything that had happened to us, including me becoming John's and Harry's official and legal Dad.

Now that Mary knew what had happened to John and Harry, she was very pleased she had refused to let a police officer interrogate Davy! She told us how, yesterday morning, a police officer phoned her and asked her to file a charge against me, for trying to abuse her son. At hearing the officer's contorted story, she started to laugh and told the officer what had really happened to her suddenly frightened son in my house. Then, becoming angry, she told him to stop his obvious slander, because she trusted Big Harry absolutely! The disappointed sounding officer still tried to convince her otherwise, until she told him to shut up and leave her alone, and angrily slammed her phone down onto its cradle.

After Mary fell silent, still looking flustered after remembering what that disappointed police officer had tried to make her believe, I told her about Davy's unexpected wish to call me 'Dad'...

Looking a bit bashful, Davy left my side and climbed onto his Mom's lap, while Mary got tears in her happy looking eyes. We could clearly see her sudden joy and happiness, while she took her handkerchief and wiped her teary eyes. While cuddling Davy on her lap and kissing the top of his head, she answered:

"Thank you very much, Big Harry, for being such a wonderful friend to both my son and to me; and I am sure that you are the right person in Davy's life. Of course, Davy may always call you 'Dad', whenever he wishes. Up to now, he never had a real father, and I am very happy for him to have YOU as his new Dad!"

Now getting tears in my own eyes from my own powerful feelings of happiness and Pure Love, I responded:

"Thank you, Mary, for trusting me with your son. I promise I will treat Davy as if he is my own child, and I am very proud to be his new Dad! We also have another question for you. Would you care to join us this evening and eat dinner at a Chinese restaurant?"

"Oh my... I am really sorry, but I have to take another rain check, because I've already made an appointment with a friend. However, I would feel delighted to cook for you, let's say the day after tomorrow. Would you care to eat dinner here, at my house, instead of going to some over-crowded restaurant in a far-away town?"

For a second, my boys and I looked at each other for approval. Then, smiling at each other, we gleefully accepted Mary's invitation to eat dinner at her home, probably the day after tomorrow. Of course, this would again release my little cookie from his self-allotted task...

After saying our goodbyes, I promised Mary to send her son back home around nine o'clock. Then, we left Mary's house and returned home, still accompanied by a very happy looking Davy who couldn't get enough of calling me 'Dad' as often as possible.

At home, my little soul mate first took his rubber mask from his green model, and asked me:

"Dad? Will you please help me put my mask on? I am still a little bit afraid to tear its edges..."

Of course, I 'helped' my little soul mate, by putting him in front of our mirror and then watching what he did, because I was sure he would be clever enough to do everything all by himself.

First, my boy smeared the inside of his rubber mask with the sticky substance from one of the brown bottles. Then, he put both hands under its non-sticky outside, and positioned the flexible mask onto his face. Looking in the mirror, he rubbed his mask in all directions until it fitted perfectly. Smiling proudly, he offered me a slightly sticky big kiss, fortunately not bothered any more about his crumpled lips being hidden behind the mask.

Feeling very proud of my still beaming boy, I ruffled his unruly blond hair while I told him:

"See? From now on, you can attach your rubber mask to your face all by yourself; and I am very proud of you!"

All the time, Davy had observed my boy's ministrations in utmost amazement and open-mouthed! Now that he saw little Harry's remarkable transformation for the first time, he clearly didn't know what to say about my boy suddenly having such a 'normal' face.

Feeling totally in awe, Davy suddenly blurted out:

"Boy, man, you really look NORMAL now! With your mask on, I can barely recognize you..."

My little soul mate only beamed back at Davy, while he cleverly fished my keys out of John's pocket and led the way to our car.

Chuckling at seeing his obvious eagerness, we followed our little leader into our car and buckled up. Directed by John, who seemed to know absolutely everything, we drove to another big town, where I steered our car into its enormous underground garage.

Because my little soul mate had never been in such an automated garage before, I explained why we had to take a ticket before its blocking bar moved up and allowed us to drive on. Proudly, my boy took our mysteriously appearing parking ticket from the automat, and promised to keep it safely until we went home and needed it again. The blocking bar moved up magically; and I steered our car into an empty spot, where I carefully locked its doors. One can never know.

Together, we went upstairs to the garage's exit, where we entered an enormous over-crowded square that was surrounded by many huge shops and impressive buildings. For several seconds, we only looked around, feeling rather overwhelmed by the sheer size of everything. Then, we crossed the huge square and headed for a nice looking Chinese restaurant at its opposite side.

In sudden awe, my little soul mate stared at the restaurant with all its elaborate red and golden decorations that abundantly adorned its eye-catching facade. Two beautifully carved wooden dragons guarded its roofed entrance. Two impressive Chinese doorkeepers stood at both sides of its already opened double door.

At seeing all the abundant glamour, my little soul mate shuddered and started to tremble all over. Obviously, my boy felt extremely impressed by the sheer abundance of everything! Clearly feeling very unsure, he took one of my arms, draped it over his head, and tried to disappear under it. With a quivering baritone voice, he stammered from under my arm:

"I never was in a real golden palace before..."

For a few seconds, John and Davy only stared at their little friend, in sudden disbelief. Then, they couldn't hide their smiles any more and started to snicker, while furtively nudging each other. Davy even pretended to sneak around both smiling doorkeepers, as if trying to slink unseen into their guarded 'golden palace'.

At last, John helpfully explained to his trembling little brother:

"Of course, this isn't a real 'golden palace'! This is only a colorful place where we can eat Chinese food."

My little soul mate clearly didn't believe his big brother! Still staring at all the abundantly sparkling 'gold', he shook his head from under my arm. He disappeared completely under it when we passed both politely bowing doorkeepers. Hesitantly, he showed up again, after we passed the doorway and nobody kicked us out or told us to leave. Only after we had entered the 'golden palace', he dared to leave his safe place under my arm and started to look around in awe.

A politely bowing 'palace servant', also clad in an abundantly colored garment, escorted us to an empty table. Here, we sat down, while my boy continued to stare in awe at the ornately decorated Chinese man. The man winked at our still impressed looking little friend, while he took our order and wrote it down. While performing another bow, he retreated towards his 'palace kitchen'.

For a split second, my little Gypsy Crown Prince's demeanor of Pure Royalty showed up, and he bowed back at the disappearing servant with a slight nod. Then, he resumed looking around in awe.

After some waiting time, a wheeled 'golden' table arrived, filled with steaming platters and little cups of all sorts of colored spices. Two politely bowing 'palace servants' took the steaming platters and distributed them onto our table that soon was overcrowded with all sorts of heavenly smelling Chinese food.

All the time, my boy's eyes grew bigger and bigger, as if he couldn't believe what he saw. Hungrily, John and Davy started to fill their empty plates with spoonfuls of rice and little bits of all the colorful spices that they thought could be tasty. At seeing what his friends did, our little cookie's curiosity got the upper hand, and he took a spoon. Carefully, he started to put small doses of all the colored spices onto his plate, to taste them first.

Smiling from ear to ear, he took some more of certain spices, while putting all the different tastes next to each other. After again comparing all the different flavors, he took a spoonful more of everything he really liked. With a serious face, he mixed a few different colors with some rice, and brought the mixture to his mouth.

Carefully, he savored his colorful mixture, and suddenly beamed:

"Dad, this Chinese food tastes really good! Just mix your rice with that reddish powder and a little bit of this stringy green snot..."

Total silence fell over our table, while John and Davy looked at each other with surprised faces. Then, they started to bellow with laughter, nearly hiccupping, while almost falling off their chairs from sudden fun. To be honest, I nearly choked on my first mouthful of rice, and had to drink some water to clear my throat.

A few guests looked up and glared at us with disturbed faces, but we couldn't care less. Red-faced, while still trying to suppress our snickering, we tried to calm down and resume our meal. Of course, we also tried out my boy's 'stringy green snot' mixture, which turned out to be really tasteful on a little bit of rice!

Now and then, John and Davy started to joke again, about mixing Chinese 'reddish snot' with 'stringy green rice'. However, our little Prince only looked at his snickering friends in disdain, while slowly shaking his head as if he could be the holy innocence in person.

From now on, all of us enjoyed our heavenly tasting Chinese dinner very much, without any further 'incidents'. All the time, our little chief cookie helped us, by cleverly conjuring all sorts of exquisite tastes with the help of all the different colored spices. He really was a magical little chef, having an extraordinary gift for knowing exactly what colorful spices to mix together, to make our Chinese meal an unforgettable experience!

At last, we were stuffed to the brim, and decided to pass on the dessert. Suddenly, our little Gypsy Prince burped loudly, what caused a few guests to send him indignant looks. However, all the Chinese waiters and nearly all the Chinese guests smiled broadly at him! Several Chinese guests even bowed towards our table, obviously to thank our broadly smiling boy for such a loud burp!

While politely bowing back at them, my boy explained:

"In our Gypsy camp, we always burped after every tasty meal, to thank the food-spirits for providing us with their healthy sustenance. Among us Gypsies, it is very impolite not to burp, and I think that most Chinese people are used to doing the same..."

Well, now that I heard my boy's Gypsy explanation, it sounded reasonable! Why shouldn't we thank our food spirits for offering us their tasteful nourishment? It was quite possible that non-human beings also had 'spirits' that left them after death but still were around us. Feeling happy again, I summoned our 'palace servant', and ordered coffee for me, and colas for my boys. Then, I asked John for my wallet, and paid our bill with my credit card, leaving a generous tip.

Feeling satisfied and content, we left our Chinese restaurant, strolled back to the over-crowded square, and descended the stairs to the underground garage. Little Harry put our parking ticket into one of the automats, and I helped him feed it enough money until it returned our now paid ticket.

We entered our car, buckled up, and drove towards the exit, where my boy put our paid ticket into a scanner. Magically, the blocking bar opened, allowing us to leave the garage before it barred the exit again.

We drove home, feeling happy and satisfied, while humming along with some nice background music from our car stereo. Because it was nearly nine o'clock, we decided to take Davy home first. Therefore, I didn't enter our own driveway, but just drove on around the block, and parked our car in front of Davy's house.

Mary had already seen us coming, because she hasted to her front door and quickly opened it. Of course, she invited us in for a quick drink and a chat, but little Harry told her he felt too tired, and wanted to go home and to bed immediately.

Before Davy left our car, he hugged his two friends and kissed me twice, while Mary looked at her proudly beaming son with tears of sheer happiness in her eyes.

My 'third son' thanked me abundantly for the nice evening and the tasteful Chinese dinner, and promised to be back tomorrow after he had done some necessary chores first.

Mary invited us again to have dinner with her, the day after tomorrow, which we confirmed. Then, Mary and Davy waved us out, until we drove around a corner and disappeared from their vision.

14. Nightmares; a strange call from Rumania.

After I backed our car into our driveway, my little soul mate snatched my keys out of my hand and opened our front door, as usual. First, we went to our kitchen and drank hot chocolate. Then, in unison, we decided to call it a day and go to bed immediately, because we felt tired from all the emotional turmoil we had gone through. Especially my growing boys needed their rest; and I wanted to phone my boy's transplant clinic first thing in the morning, to explain why we hadn't shown up, and to make a new appointment for as soon as possible.

John and little Harry first went to their own rooms to undress, and then showered together. While they helpfully dried each other, I took my own shower, and my boys waited until I was ready. Then, they just followed me into my bedroom. Showing me his best pleading puppy doe eyes, John wheedled:

"Dad? Harry is a bit afraid he might get a nightmare, after being detained and interrogated by those police officers and remembering his Gypsy youth with its nasty witch hunts. To be honest, I myself don't feel too happy either. Please, Dad, could we again sleep next to you in your double bed? We promise we will never ever blabber about those private things to anyone else, especially not to those mistrustful police officers; and we will shift towards the other side of your bed, so that you have plenty of room for yourself."

Looking at two deep brown puppy dog eyes and two bright blue ones, I couldn't help feeling extremely blessed with my 'new sons'. How could I ever refuse my boys the safety of being together that they clearly craved, after going through our emotional disturbances? It was obvious that both boys needed me tonight; and I wasn't sure if my own inner child wouldn't need our close togetherness as well...

For a second, my too analytical mind hesitated, because I thought of my interrogation and all those threatening accusations. What if the police officers were right with their accusations, and I was really doing 'improper' things to my boys by letting them sleep next to me in my double bed? Wouldn't it be much better, for all of us, to let my boys sleep in their own beds in their own rooms from now on, just to play it safe? Still hesitating, I turned around, to tell my boys about my doubts and ask them for their advice...

At that moment, I suddenly heard Jack's warm and soulful voice in my inside, interrupting my plan by telling me:

"My dear brother; please, stop doubting so much, and only listen to what your Own Heart tells you..."

This time, I plainly refused to let my too analytical mind take over again, and only concentrated on my Own Heart. Not surprisingly, my own heart told me, loud and clear, that my boys needed our feelings of safety and close togetherness! After going through their emotional turmoil, sleeping alone would be too frightening for them without feeling protected by their caring and loving Dad. Besides, my own inner child had gone through the same emotional turmoil; therefore, it probably needed our close togetherness just as much!

Okay, tomorrow, first thing in the morning, I would talk to my boys about our sleeping habits some more. But, tonight, I would allow them to sleep next to me in my double waterbed, to feel more reassured and comforted by our mutual love.

Looking at their pleading puppy dog eyes, I told my boys:

"Okay, for tonight, I will allow you to sleep next to me; but, tomorrow, we will first have another talk about it."

Showing me sparkling eyes and broadly smiling faces, both boys jumped up at me at the same time, so that all three of us tumbled backwards onto our wobbling waterbed. Out of habit, we first started to tease and tickle each other, as usual. Then, we left each other alone and quickly crawled under our invitingly cozy blankets, while John helpfully switched off our bed lights.

Much to my surprise, my boys kept their promise! They really shifted towards the other side of our bed, leaving plenty of room for me. We wished each other good night and happy dreams, closed our eyes, and tried to fall asleep as soon as possible.

Of course, within a few minutes, my boy's heat radiating small body quickly shifted towards me, crawled onto my stomach, and adeptly worked itself into my arms. Inwardly, I started to chuckle, because I had already expected this to happen. My little soul mate just needed me too much, and it was quite possible that my own inner child needed my boy's close togetherness just as much. Happily, I folded my arms around my boy's tiny frame and pulled him even closer. Only, this time, something else seemed to bother him as well.

While 'octopussing' himself against my chest, my boy complained:

"Dad? Every time, just before I fall asleep, a police officer wakes me up and tells me I am again doing 'improper' things by sleeping next to you in your bed. Then, he wants to send me to a juvenile home to get some 'proper guidance'..."

Was this my boy's 'nasty nightmare' that John had told me he was afraid of? Then, I had done the right thing, by allowing my boys to sleep next to me! Only, how would I go on from here? How could I convince my little soul mate that the police officer in his dream was talking nonsense? Of course, I also didn't want to influence his much appreciated independency and clever thinking too much.

Trying to let my boy come to his own conclusions, I asked him:

"My dear son, what does your Own Heart tell you about this?"

With a frustrated baritone voice, my boy rebutted:

"You start talking like Jack, because Jack already told me exactly the same thing! I've asked him why those police officers think it is 'improper' to sleep next to you in your bed instead of in my own bed; but Jack couldn't explain it and suggested to ask you about it..."

"Well, is it really such a bad thing, to sleep next to me in my double bed and feel safe and protected in my arms?"

"Of course not! While I'm sleeping in your arms, I always feel safe and protected, and that can never be a bad thing. Only, I still don't understand why that police officer keeps telling me it is 'improper' to sleep next to you in your bed. I am no longer a little baby and never wetted your bed, and you have always properly washed our used sheets and blankets, haven't you?"

Oh my goodness... Although, as a psychotherapist, I was used to listen to kid's talk; I had never thought that my clever boy would misunderstand our word 'proper' as being 'neat and tidy' instead of 'correct and suitable'. Of course, he had spoken our language for only two years, and therefore still misunderstood some unknown words...

At hearing his little brother's linguistic confusion, John suddenly started to laugh. First, he shifted towards me and glued himself against my left side, while draping his left arm across both his little brother and me. Then, clearly trying to be helpful, John explained to our confused little 'linguistic miracle':

"In our language, the word 'proper' not only means 'clean' or 'tidy', but it also means 'correct' or 'suitable'. Therefore, doing 'improper' things usually means doing 'incorrect' things or 'unsuitable' things. By using the word 'improper', your police officer assumed that Dad wants to have improper sex with us and therefore tries to lure us into his bed. Now, please, forget everything that those stupid officers tried to make you believe, and only listen to your Own Heart instead of to their stupid presumptions that all close contacts with nice grownups are improper, dangerous, or unwanted."

Immediately, my little soul mate sat upright and exclaimed:

"So, THAT is what those police officers were calling 'improper'? This is ridiculous! I was afraid they assumed that I still wet Dads bed at night, or that he didn't wash our used sheets. Now that I know they only suspected Dad from having improper sex with us, I feel even safer with Dad; and I want to sleep next to him for the rest of my life! From now on, those stupid and oversexed police officers can... NO, now that I finally understand the truth, I feel too happy to use any more bad words on them. Sleep well, Dad and John, and please have 'proper' dreams with all the 'suitable' sex in them that you want."

Happily, my little soul mate 'octopussed' himself against my chest, closed his eyes, heaved a deep sigh of sheer contentment, and almost immediately disappeared into dreamland, leaving me confused. Had my so mature little Gypsy Prince really misunderstood those police officers, including the 'improper' part of having sex with a grownup?

In the meantime, John cuddled up against me even more, and soon fell asleep too. Again, I felt extremely blessed with my two... oops, from now on THREE 'adopted' sons, including Davy. Soon, I fell asleep too, and started dreaming about my steadily growing family.

Halfway through the night, I woke up because something didn't feel right. My boy on my stomach seemed to have some frightening nightmare, because he started to tremble all over and thrashed around on my chest. While flailing his arms and legs all over my body, now and then hitting John, my little octopus moaned and grumbled...

Although I tried to wake him up, he just kept on thrashing around. His body felt a bit too warm and sweaty, but fortunately not feverish. While trying to fend off his pummeling fists and kicking feet, I gently rubbed his sweaty back, while at the same time grounding his restless aura and reconnecting his disturbed energy into Mother Earth.

Fortunately, grounding my boy seemed to help, because he started to relax while he slowly woke up from his strange nightmare and looked around with a surprised face.

John woke up too, sat upright, and asked me with a sleepy voice:

"Shall I get him a glass of water?"

"Yes please; and I am sorry for waking you too."

"I am used to it. While he slept in my room and always crawled next to me in my bed, he sometimes had nightmares too."

Helpfully, John switched our bed lights on. Then, he left our bed and wavered downstairs. In the meantime, little Harry woke up some more, until he too jumped out of bed and raced downstairs to take a leak. Within a few minutes, both boys returned upstairs, carrying three glasses of water. Sitting together on our bed, we alternated between yawning and sipping our water. Because I wanted to know what had happened to my boy during his nightmare, I asked him:

"Do you remember what happened before you woke up?"

Still looking a bit frustrated, my boy explained:

"The same police officer started to harass me again about doing 'improper' things by sleeping next to you, but I told him to shut up and only listen to his own heart instead of to his sexual frustrations! Then, he tried to take me to a juvenile home to get some 'proper' guidance; but I kicked and pummeled him with all of my might, until you started to rub my back and I calmed down and woke up."

"Actually, you were kicking and pummeling ME! I am lucky that you didn't punch me a bloody nose..."

My little imp started to chuckle at the 'funny' thought, but he cleverly kept his mouth shut. Now, I only hoped that he wouldn't take up on the idea... After drinking our water, we again dived under our blankets and went back to sleep. John helpfully switched our bed lights off before he threw an arm around his little brother and me. Feeling safe and protected again, we drifted off into dreamland.

Half an hour later, I woke up from a loud scream that reverberated through the entire house and woke up a flock of angrily twittering birds outside in a tree! In sudden shock, I sat upright and switched our bed lights on. Then, I looked at my little soul mate.

This time, my boy seemed to stare at something frightening or horrifying in a corner of our bedroom. His bright blue eyes were wide open, but he didn't see John or me, and seemed to linger in some terrifying nightmare that he couldn't wake up from.

Again, his deep baritone voice screamed:

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooo."

John too sat upright and stared at his screaming little brother with a surprised face, while he tried to wake up some more. For heaven's sake, what was my little soul mate doing this time? Was he again fighting a nasty police officer who wanted to put him in a juvenile home to get some 'proper' guidance?

Still trying to fend off my boy's pummeling fists and kicking feet, I folded my arms around his sweaty little body. Immediately, my boy started to fight ME, as if I really tried to do 'improper' things with him! Again, I grounded his aura and reconnected his energy field to Mother Earth. However, this time, whatever I tried to do, I just couldn't calm him down any more. My delirious boy just continued to scream and fight my enveloping arms, with all of his might.

Involuntarily, I started to blame those heartless police officers and their mistrusting public prosecutor! Of course, their irresponsibility and denouncing behavior was the real cause of my boy's frightening nightmare! This was how our 'Big Brother' society 'protected' our children against 'predators', by telling them total nonsense and afterwards saddling them with horrible nightmares! Didn't those zealous good-doers have any idea what they were doing to vulnerable kids like my burnt little Gypsy boy, with their over-protectiveness and reckless witch-hunts? Why hadn't they left us alone, instead of confining me and trying to force a confession out of my boys?

Still feeling more and more frustrated, I involuntarily started to curse under my breath. Immediately, John joined my cursing, with balled fists and fire-shooting eyes. Never again would we trust any meddlesome Big Brother police officer. They had done too much damage to our defenseless little friend!

After fighting against me and, now and then, again screaming as if I tried to murder him; my little soul mate finally started to calm down. Still trembling all over, he started to cry his heart out, still without waking up. This time, his aura finally reacted to rubbing his back and reconnecting his energy field to Mother Earth.

Slowly, my boy relaxed more and more, until he fell back into my arms while heaving another couple of frustrated sighs. Within a few seconds, he finally tumbled into a more normal sleep and immediately started to snore as usual.

Staring at his finally sleeping little brother, John whispered:

"Great goodness, Dad, Harry fought against YOU! Look at what those bloodsuckers have done to my little brother. Since yesterday, I hate them, with their condemning and over-zealous behavior, and I will never trust any police officer any more, for the rest of my life!"

Involuntarily, John started to cry; but he tried to suppress his sobs against my chest, so as not to wake his little brother.

While I shifted my snoring little soul mate into one arm, I pulled John's heavily sobbing frame into my other arm; because, this time, it was his turn to be held and feel safe! All the time, my young friend had forced himself to be strong and put his own needs aside, because he had to protect his so badly burnt little brother. Now, for once, he allowed himself to be a vulnerable young boy that desperately needed to be held and comforted by a caring and loving grownup.

Tenderly, I pulled John even closer into my arm, while he started to cry his frustrated heart out. For a long time, John cried and cried; until, at last, his heavy sobs diminished and he slowly started to feel better. Finally, he thanked me, and told me he loved me dearly and would always be my loyal friend. With a deep sigh, he draped himself along my left side and fell asleep. Fortunately, the remainder of our tumultuous night passed without any more troubles.

The next morning, I woke up with two yawning boys who lazily crawled onto my stomach while sleepily staring at my face. When they saw that I opened my eyes, they smiled at me, while listlessly competing for the best place on my chest. Clearly, they still felt very tired, after going through such a tumultuous night.

Yet, it felt wonderful to wake up like this again, after going through our nasty detaining adventures and me missing my boys. I really hoped I would never have to miss them again, not even to learn any more 'important lessons', according to Jack. Fortunately, there really had been 'victory' in the end! Both boys were now in my custody, and no meddlesome Big Brother police officer could ever take them away from me without a court order!

With a deep sigh of happiness, I pulled my boys even closer to my chest and gently cradled them, until their hungry stomachs started to rumble and they became too restless to lie still any more.

Much to our surprise, little Harry didn't remember anything about his nightly escapade! He only felt very tired, but thought it came from the heavy emotional stress he had endured. Furtively, John and I looked at each other, and we had a silent conversation without words. Neither of us would tell our little friend about his nasty nightmare and his loud screams in the middle of the night!

Still feeling tired and sleepy, we left our bed, showered, brushed our teeth, dressed, and went downstairs to prepare a healthy breakfast. Only, this morning, our little chef felt too tired to do anything at all. Therefore, John took over and prepared some sandwiches, while our little chef told him which herbs he should use to make them tastier. Surprisingly, John's sandwiches turned out to taste excellent; and both my little cookie and I praised him abundantly.

Next, we cleared the table, put everything away, and listlessly ambled to our living room. I had already planned to phone my boy's transplant clinic first thing in the morning, to offer them my excuses for not canceling the other day. Therefore, I sat down at my desk and took Peter's card out of a drawer, to have the phone number ready. Next, I stretched my hand out to take the receiver off its cradle...

At exactly that moment, my telephone suddenly started to ring! Feeling surprised, I glared at the obviously bewitched thing. What the heck could be happening here? I was sure I hadn't even touched it! Could one of our 'spirit friends' be in a cheerful mood and play some 'funny' but rather spooky game with me from 'the beyond'?

Again, I stretched my hand out towards the receiver... Promptly, my bewitched telephone started to ring again! Then, the truth started to dawn in my still tired and sleepy mind, making me laugh at my obvious lack of common sense. Of course, somebody else was trying to call my phone number, at this same moment! I only hoped it wouldn't be some happy sounding salesperson who wanted to sell me some assurance policy I was already sure I didn’t need...

Feeling a little bit irritated, I took the receiver from its cradle, brought it to my ear, and grumbled into it:

"Who is this, and what do you want from me?"

The next moment, I almost let the receiver drop out of my hands from sudden surprise! What the heck was happening here? A stranger tried to ask me a question, but he spoke with a very heavy accent that I thought I faintly recognized but didn't understand. Who was this foreigner whose voice sounded almost in tears, and what did he want from me? Perhaps, he had keyed in a wrong number...

Again trying to find the correct words, the stranger asked me:

"Escuse sir? Boy, Harold Janovski Romani, live housch you, in telphone me? Yes please?"

Feeling more and more surprised, I took the receiver from my ear and stared at it. Some unknown foreigner tried to ask me a question, talking with a heavy outlandish accent, barely speaking our language, but sounding almost in tears. Who was this stranger, and why was he trying to speak to me, this early in the morning?

For several seconds, I tried to make some more sense of the man's desperate stammering, until my sleepy brain started to understand a couple of things. Obviously, this stranger was asking me for a boy, living in my house, but why would that boy be in his telephone? A certain 'Harold something Romani'...

Suddenly, I nearly jumped up from my chair! Could the name 'Harold Janovski Romani' be the REAL name of our little Gypsy Crown Prince, although he had mentioned only 'Harold Romani' to our lawyer? Could this unknown stranger be asking for our 'little Harry' who was living here in my 'housch'? Only, what did that foreigner want from my little soul mate?

Hesitatingly, I brought the receiver back to my ear and asked:

"Sir, who are you, and what do you want from 'Harold'?"

At hearing my confirmation that there WAS a 'Harold' living in my 'housch', the foreigner started to cry earnestly! Obviously, he felt extremely happy to have found his 'Harold'! Sobbingly, he tried to ask me several more questions, but I still couldn't understand him. After carefully listening, I only found out his name sounded like 'Michail', and he kept asking for a 'boy Harold in telphone me'...

Surprisingly, the man's strange accent sounded almost familiar! Where could I have heard this foreign language before? A couple of words sounded exactly like the foreign words my little Gypsy Prince had spoken to our lawyer in his own Gypsy language...

Again, the more and more desperate stranger asked me:

"Please, issi Michail, in telphone boy Harold? Boy in telphone Michail? Yes? Boy Harold... err... talk Michail?"

'Boy Harold TALK Michail?'... Finally, I understood what this sobbing stranger, 'Michail', could have tried to ask me all the time; and I nearly started to laugh at my own stupidity! Of course, my boy's own Gypsy people had found their vanished little Crown Prince, and they now wanted to talk to him, although 'Michail' spoke only a few words of our difficult language!

Only, who could have given my phone number to them? Had our lawyer already contacted my boy's own Gypsy people, and sent them my number in advance?

15. My boy's real Big Friend; and a nicer bell.

Again, my too analytical mind started to doubt. Could this be some dirty trick, and was this still sobbing stranger trying to lure me into something dubious? Could I really trust this unknown foreigner, or was he only after some money?

Then, I heard Jack's warm voice in my inside, confirming:

"My dear brother, you can trust this man because he is one of us!"

Feeling reassured, I turned around and looked at my still intently listening little soul mate, chuckling at seeing two curious bright blue eyes that pierced into mine. Had my little Shaman sensed something unusual, or had he already picked up my thoughts?

While pointing at the receiver in my hand, I asked my boy:

"Harry? Some unknown stranger who doesn't speak our language and whose name sounds like 'Michail', asks me for a 'boy Harold'; but I cannot understand a word of what he tells me. Could you please try to understand him and ask him what he wants?"

At hearing the foreign sounding name 'Michail', my boy's bright blue eyes suddenly lit up as a torch! Clearly, he hadn't picked up the stranger's name from my thoughts, but he certainly recognized the foreign name and felt extremely happy. With a brightly beaming face, my boy nearly snatched the receiver out of my hands.

Then, he slowed down considerably, while he seemed to hesitate. His small shoulders slumped down, as if he couldn't believe his own expectations. Obviously, he was afraid to be disappointed, now that he unexpectedly heard this well-known name from his Gypsy past...

Hesitantly, he took the receiver, and asked with a tiny voice:

"Yes, this is Harold, and who are you?"

Intently, he listened to the answer, while his forehead frowned from building-up stress. Then, his bright blue eyes started to sparkle again, while his beaming face lit up the entire room! For a second, he nearly let the receiver slip out of his trembling hands, because he started to dance around. Obviously, he recognized the stranger and felt very happy to hear such a well-known voice!

Just in time, I rescued the receiver and returned it to him. Forcing his trembling baritone voice to sound calm, he told the receiver:

"Issi Michail? Really? YESSS, you finally found me! Taj! Issi Harold! But what... sorry, err... quinji ette..."

Although my boy desperately tried to formulate an understandable question in his own Gypsy language, he soon stopped and looked frustrated, clearly feeling disappointed about not being able any more to speak his own language, after two years of living in a foreign country. After stuttering a few more foreign sounding words, he just listened again, gave a short answer, hesitantly asked another question, listened to the next answer, and again asked a question, while now and then pausing to look for the right words.

Slowly, almost word for word, he started to talk more fluently and with more confidence, until he suddenly found enough courage to start talking on and on, no longer bothered by a mispronounced word or by not knowing a difficult word in his own language any more. All the time while he was listening and answering, my boy leaned into me, as if seeking encouragement and support from me.

Gently, I embraced his small frame and held him close to my chest, while trying to give him as much extra confidence and self-esteem as I was able to muster. Fortunately, that helped. Soon, my boy started to talk even more fluent in his own language.

After a couple more minutes of talking in his own Gypsy language, listening, and answering again, he slowly turned around to face me. With very much love in his sparkling eyes, my boy told me:

"Dad, this is Michail, my real Big Friend from when I was still little and lived in our Gypsy camp. After two years of searching in vain, my own people finally found me! I have already told Michail about you being my adopted Dad; and Michail asks me to tell you he is very grateful for you helping me and caring for me, and he politely asks you to meet my own Gypsy people tomorrow morning!"

Feeling more and more uneasy, my old and a bit rusty brain had to digest this unexpected information first. My boy's own Gypsy people wanted to meet me tomorrow morning... Didn't this go too fast? Ultimately, I still didn't know anything about that foreigner who unexpectedly called me and wanted to talk to their little Gypsy Prince. What if the man turned out to be only after our money, or he would try to take their little Crown Prince back to his own people?

Perhaps, I was reacting too egotistic, but I certainly didn't want to give my boy away to this total stranger that I couldn't even talk to because I didn't understand his foreign language!

Still very hesitatingly, I responded:

"Well, I don't know... Of course, your own Gypsy people are always welcome in our house. Only, do you really want to meet this stranger tomorrow morning? Isn't that going too fast? Ultimately, I still don't know anything about him, and what if he disappoints you, or he turns out to be only after some money?"

"DAAAD... this is MICHAIL! He is our Gypsy Vice Leader and my Biggest Friend, and he will never ever try to mislead or disappoint anybody! Of course, I want to meet my own Gypsy people as soon as possible, now that they finally found me. For two long years, I have missed them terribly, and Michail tells me they have missed me too. Now that my subjects finally know where I am, they want to see their Crown Prince as soon as possible..."

Of course, my too analytical brain still doubted; until I again heard Jack's warm voice in my inside, assuring me:

"My dear brother, you can absolutely trust this man. Please, don't doubt any more, because this will be only victory."

Feeling more reassured, I answered my boy:

"Then, let's meet Michail tomorrow morning; but, please, don't go too fast, because you might be disappointed. Could you ask Michail where and when I can meet him first, to talk to him and ask him a few important questions before he sees you?"

My little Gypsy Crown Prince nodded his agreement, returned to the receiver, and started to talk again. Now and then, he still had to look for the correct words, but Michail and he seemed to understand each other quite well. For another couple of minutes, they continued their conversation, still questioning and answering, until my boy took the receiver from his ear and turned towards me again.

With proudly beaming eyes, he told me:

"My Gypsy people will arrive here tomorrow morning by airplane; and they will try to bring a translator, so that you can follow our conversation and also ask them your own questions. Unfortunately, Michail cannot join them, because he is our Vice Leader and has to stay at home to reign. However, I am sure you will meet him soon; and I really hope that you and he will become good friends."

Without waiting for my answer, my boy immediately returned to the receiver and resumed his conversation. Again, he asked questions, listened, and answered, over time speaking his language more and more fluently. Now and then, he looked up at me with proudly beaming eyes, while cozily leaning against my side. I also observed a subtle change in his posture, as if he showed even more pride in his gestures. He stood more upright, and he had already switched on his powerful aura of Aristocracy. This time, he really looked like a Royal Gypsy Crown Prince, talking to a beloved subject!

After a long time of talking, listening, and answering, my little Gypsy Crown Prince Harold Janovski Romani put the receiver back onto its cradle, crawled onto my lap, and started to cry from sheer happiness. Obviously, my boy felt very happy to see his own people back, after two long years of separation. Gently, I carried my crying little soul mate to our couch, still holding him close to my chest.

Patiently, John and I waited, until our little Gypsy Crown Prince stopped crying and pulled himself together again. After his heavy sobs diminished and finally went away, John helpfully dried his eyes with a few tissues and even let him blow his runny nose.

Suddenly, my telephone started to ring again! Feeling a bit surprised, I lifted my boy onto John's lap before I went to my desk, took the receiver from its cradle, and listened, of course expecting to hear the foreign voice again. Only, much to my surprise, this time, I heard the enthusiastic voice of my lawyer.

First, he told me he had tried to phone me a couple of times, but, every time, he got a busy signal. Then, with a very proud voice, he announced that he had found my son's Gypsy clan that really turned out to live in Rumania! They immediately asked him for my phone number and lots of other information, and he had already faxed them everything that he knew in advance.

He nearly fell off his chair when I told him that their Vice Leader had already phoned me, and my boy had talked to his Gypsy Friend for at least half an hour! With a surprised voice, my lawyer stuttered:

"But... those Gypsies didn't speak a word of our language, and I had to hire an interpreter to be able to understand them..."

Next, I told my lawyer about my boy's conversation and about our pending meeting, tomorrow morning. Immediately, he promised to be present, to oversee any legal consequences. He would also keep a very close eye on everything else concerning Gypsy Crown Prince 'Harold something Romani'. What was his middle name? Oh yeah, 'Janovski'; because he was named after their beloved 'Gypsy King Janov', who was his deceased father and their former Gypsy Leader; and he also was named after their beloved 'Gypsy Monarch Harold the Great', who had been his beloved great-grandfather.

After thanking my lawyer for his extra information, I promised to phone the airport first, and to call him back to let him know about the expected time of arrival that would be tomorrow morning.

When I returned to our couch, my little soul mate told me:

"Thank you very much, Dad, for letting me talk to Michail, and for inviting my own Gypsy people into our house. For the first few minutes, talking in my own Gypsy language felt really strange. Although I could understand everything that Michail told me, I just couldn't find the right words to answer him in our own language. Only after lots of trying, my brain restarted to remember how to talk properly. Michail is my Godfather, and he also is my real Big Friend. He always took care of me when my parents had to be away to reign somewhere else. He has two little sons, Michi and Movi, but their mother died during childbirth. Although they are twins, they are not alike at all. In our Gypsy camp, they were sort of my little brothers, but they were still way too young to have any real fun with."

My boy took a tissue and blew his nose in it, before he went on:

"Michail told me that everybody cried their hearts out when my parents and I suddenly disappeared and nobody knew where we were. Of course, they didn't know that our caravan had burnt down, but our Wise Woman found out that my parents had passed away and only I was still alive. She tried to track me down, but my protective aura is too strong for her because I am a very powerful Shaman and Cosmic Mage. For two long years, everybody has searched everywhere, but they just couldn't find me. Until a foreign lawyer sent them a fax with a few questions about some little Gypsy Prince called 'Harry Romani' that was looking for his own Gypsy people. Now, my own people are on their way to an airport; and they will arrive here tomorrow morning around ten o'clock our time."

Again, my little Gypsy Crown Prince fell silent, while he wiped his teary eyes and blew his nose. In the meantime, John went to our kitchen, and soon returned with two glasses of cola, a steaming cup of coffee, and the refilled cookie jar. Our little Prince immediately dived for the cookies and took a tasty looking one. Staring into space, he nibbled on his cookie and now and then sipped his cola.

Then, still with his mouth full, he restarted his telling:

"Finally, all my memories from my Gypsy youth are returning! I can now almost smell our glowing campfire and hear our violin players playing our own beautiful Gypsy music. During summer, our children always scoured our surrounding woods, to set traps and catch small animals to roast over our campfire; or we went playing under our waterfall and swimming in our mountain lake. From my fifth year on, I have been our Chief Cook; and I always collected several tasty herbs to spice our roasting animals. During summer, we had to wear clothes only when we went to a gadjo town to beg for food or money. Unfortunately, most gadjo's didn't trust us Gypsies, and they always immediately chased us away. Some gadjo's at the central market were a bit nicer, and they sometimes offered us a little bit of money or food when we told them we were starving. My friend Misha and I used to do everything together. I also had a smaller friend, little Dimi; and everybody always called us 'our black and white couple' because of Dimi's jet black hair and my blond appearance."

For quite some time, my little Gypsy Prince kept on talking and talking, and he just couldn't stop any more. He told us all the details of what he remembered from their Gypsy festivities, where he was dressed in his own green-and-golden Royal robe. He told us about the time when the police arrested everybody, and their camp was empty except for their children and a few elderly women. With a proud face, he told us he was their youngest Trained Real Trapper ever, and their Wise Woman had allowed him to scour their surrounding woods all on his own. From a very young age, he always found his way back home without ever getting lost, just like their 'carrier pigeons' could do it naturally. He was the youngest kid ever in their community who caught an enormous badger in his trap; and his Mom and Grandma had worked together to sew a warm fur coat out of its beautiful skin, with a white stripe along its dark back from its head to its tail.

At last, John picked his still non-stop talking little brother up and put him down in front of our computer, to play one of Davy's monster games. Fortunately, that helped. Soon, both boys were again puzzling over how to avoid the next dangerous monster and where to enter the next hidden cave, and our little Gypsy Crown Prince forgot to tell us some more of what he remembered from his Gypsy past.

In the meantime, I took my phone and called the transplant clinic, with excuses for having an unexpected family affair that prevented my son and me from showing up or calling them in time. Fortunately, they were very understanding; and we made a new appointment, two days from now, for my burnt son to have a thorough physical.

Next, I phoned our central airport, to ask what time tomorrow the flight from Rumania would arrive... They reacted a bit surprised, because their computer didn't show any flights from that country within the next few days. Was I sure I had received the correct data? Yes, my friends had told me they would arrive here by airplane, tomorrow morning around ten o'clock! That might be true, but their computer had scanned every possible flight around the world, except for maybe some private flights. They were very sorry...

Now, I felt puzzled. Could my little soul mate have misunderstood his 'Big Friend' from Rumania, Michail? Or, perhaps, their elaborate Gypsy culture differed even more from ours than I thought, and they were using another calendar? Let's ask my boy about it...

During a monster game pause, I asked my boy:

"Harry, are you sure about the correct day and time your Gypsy people will arrive tomorrow from Rumania? Our airport tells me they don't know anything about a possible flight from that country."

Looking a bit surprised, my boy responded:

"Yes, Dad, I am absolutely sure! Michail told me my own people would drive to the Rumanian airport within half an hour after he returned in our Gypsy camp, and they have planned to arrive at our house tomorrow morning around ten o'clock OUR time."

Still feeling puzzled, I called our lawyer, who promised to fax the Rumanian Gypsies with the help of his interpreter, to ask them about their flight and their planned time of arrival.

Half an hour later, our lawyer called me back and told me that the Rumanian Gypsies were already on their way by private charter flight, and they would arrive at our airport the next morning around nine o'clock our time. They had already ordered a huge limousine to be able to transport everybody, hoping to arrive at my house around ten o'clock. As far as he understood, I could expect three noblemen, one photographer, and one secretary. They would also bring their own interpreter, so that we could understand each other; and they politely asked if I would allow their photographer to take some pictures. They would also bring all the signed and stamped 'legal papers' concerning little Harold and his deceased parents; but my lawyer had no idea what that meant, or what they could be up to with their legal papers...

I thanked our lawyer for his help; but he only laughed and told me to wait until I received his bill! Then, he promised again to join us the next day around ten o'clock, to help me with any legal consequences concerning my adopted boy and his 'legal papers'.

After we hung up, I first thanked John and little Harry for being silent, and told them they could now resume their monster game. Exactly at that moment, our too loud doorbell rang, again harshly reverberating through our hallway! Again, my heart nearly crawled into my throat, while I jumped up in sudden shock. Again, I realized I HAD to silence that wicked bell, before it gave me a heart attack!

Muttering under my breath and cursing myself for my obvious laziness, or was it lack of initiative, I sauntered to our front door and opened it... to let Davy in! With a broad smile on his beaming face, Davy entered the door and immediately hugged me fiercely.

Still with his arms around my waist, my 'third son' told me:

"Good morning, Dad; and I had a very nice dream about you!"

"Well, I'm glad to hear it wasn't a nightmare! Please, come in and join our club. Do you care for a glass of cola and a cookie? John and Harry are already playing one of your monster games and looking for the next hidden cave. By the way, as our technical man, do you also know what to do about too loud doorbells?"

Davy started to laugh, while he left my waist and curiously looked up at the too loud bell over our heads. Then, he went outside, let the front door open, and pushed the bell knob. Chuckling at hearing its extremely loud sound, he pushed the knob again.

Then, he nodded his head and asked me:

"Dad, do you have a ladder and a small piece of tissue?"

"My ladder is in the garage, and tissues are in our living room..."

Playfully, Davy bumped his head into my belly, before he dived away and easily escaped into our living room. Soon, he returned, followed by John and little Harry who carried a tissue. Smiling at me, my threesome first went to our garage. Within a few seconds, they returned, while John and Davy carried my old wooden ladder and little Harry carried a small screwdriver. John put the ladder against the wall and held it in place; while our 'technical man' climbed its rickety steps, to open our doorbell and inspect its inside.

Within two seconds, he asked his waiting friends:

"Could you please hand me the screwdriver and a tissue?"

Little Harry put the requested screwdriver and the tissue into his back pocket, went to the ladder, and enthusiastically clambered next to Davy, where he stayed to take a closer look at the bell.

Our 'technical boy' first tore a small piece of paper from the tissue, and then used the screwdriver to push it in between a tiny hammer and some shiny metal thing. Looking satisfied, he closed the bell, and both boys climbed down with happy faces.

This time, little Harry went outside and enthusiastically pushed the bell knob. The result was astounding! All of a sudden, our doorbell produced only a pleasant soft and melodious sound! Finally, my house had a nice sounding doorbell, sigh...

Feeling very grateful, I ruffled Davy's hair and told him:

"Davy, I am truly amazed by your outstanding technical skills! Thank you very much for repairing our too loud doorbell."

Davy beamed proudly, while he first threw the remaining piece of tissue away. Then, he helped John and little Harry carry the ladder and the screwdriver back to our garage. In the meantime, I went to our kitchen, to brew a cup of coffee and fill three glasses with cola.

When I returned into our living room, my three musketeers were already plundering our cookie jar. Chuckling, I sat down next to them and helped them with the plundering. Now and then, it felt good to join my young friends and act a little bit naughty...

While we sipped our drinks and nibbled on our tasty cookies, my little soul mate started to tell Davy everything about his unexpected phone call from Michail, who was his 'real Big Friend' from Rumania and also his Godfather and their Beloved Gypsy Vice Leader.

After their little Gypsy Crown Prince suddenly vanished and nobody knew where he was, Michail took over the reigning, until their little Crown Prince returned and would be old enough to be their next 'Gypsy King Harold the Second'. Now, my boy's own people had found him; plus, all his memories were returning into his mind!

Enthusiastically, my boy told Davy that his own Gypsy people would arrive here tomorrow morning around ten o'clock. Then, he suddenly fell silent and only stared into empty space...