> a Man loves a Boy - book 1 <
- written by a Dutch psychotherapist -

(please go to my site to send me an email)


- Last time, my ongoing 'Gypsy Series' story ended with:

Chuckling at hearing my boy's clever antics, I responded:

"Nice try! Have you ever slept in a folding bed?"

"Of course, silly! After I fled from the orphanage, I've even slept on a wooden bench in a park, until the police found me and Margaret from 'See Pee Es' took me to her madhouse hospital. Do you really have a folding bed?"

"Yes. To be prepared for everything, I've even purchased two folding beds. Let's get one from the attic..."

Without waiting for me, my boy trotted to the hallway, where he tried to reach the pulling cord by jumping up and down as high as he could. Of course, he was too short to get hold of it, so I took over and pulled the sliding stairs down. Immediately, he clambered upstairs and switched the attic lights on. Curiously, he looked around at all the spare things I had been stowing away for later use.

Together, we took one of my folding beds and carried it towards the hatch. From there, I dragged it down the stairs, while my little helper assisted me from the attic. Working closely together, we carried the folding bed into his old room and set it up. Of course, he had to try it out first, by jumping up and down on it. Then, I got a couple of fresh sheets and blankets from my hallway closet, and he helped me put them onto his makeshift bed.


- CHAPTER 10. Getting used to seeing little Harry's burns.

When little Harry's makeshift bed was ready, I went to my own bedroom to get him a pillow, and he followed me inside. Curiously, he started to walk around while looking at my belongings. Would he now remember Jack's former bed and everything else that they had shared?

Unexpectedly, I saw my disappeared packet of tissues, as if teasingly winking at me from my nightstand! Chuckling, I remembered I had put it there myself, and totally forgot where I had left it. Obviously, rascal Thomas had been right, after all. I had really started to be a forgetful 'ancient grandpa'! Involuntarily, I started to laugh.

My boy looked at me with a questioning face and asked:

"What is so funny? What are you laughing at?"

"Well, I had put this packet of tissues on my nightstand, and then totally forgot where I left it."

Again, my little imp started to bellow with laughter, while his deep baritone voice chuckled:

"You and Jack really could be brothers! Both of you seem to be just as absent-minded, always forgetting something important."

Feeling a bit affronted by such a tiny boy laughing at me, I scooped him off the floor and teasingly tossed him onto my waterbed. For a split second, he looked shocked and disorientated, while his bright blue eyes pierced into mine as if looking for any telltale signs of anger. Then, he felt the wobbling bed! Immediately, he clambered upright and started to bounce up and down with all of his might. Happily, he threw himself at the wobbles and enthusiastically shouted:

"Yippee, you have a WATER bed!"

Trying to tease him some more, I warned him:

"You better look out, before you punch a hole in the water and the bed leaks!"

Suddenly, my enthusiastic imp fell quiet and started to look the waterbed over for any visible leaks.

"Really?" he asked in a small baritone voice, while carefully leaving the bed.

"Of course not, silly. I am only teasing you. This waterbed can easily carry two elephants without problems!"

"Then, YOU are silly!" my chuckling little imp concluded.

Again, he started to test the waterbed, by jumping up and down as high as he could. His enthusiastic jumps and pranks were a funny and joyful sight, and I enjoyed myself immensely watching his beaming face and sparkling eyes. Although he had been around me for less than an hour, I already started to love my spontaneous little friend very much. Apart from that, he certainly was working his way deeply into my heart! Still enjoying his antics, I sat down on a corner of my wobbling waterbed, patiently waiting until he would wind down.

At last, my enthusiastic imp seemed to feel both satisfied and too tired. After performing his last high jump, he just sprang towards me and threw himself onto my lap. Heaving a couple deep sighs of content, he tried to melt away in my enveloping aura. Gently, I put my arms around his small frame and pulled him towards my chest, realizing that I already very much enjoyed being the new 'Big Friend' of such an extremely special child.

Surprisingly, all my qualms about not being able to raise him had faded away. From now on, I would do everything I could to always be there for my boy, who so trustfully committed himself to me. I really hoped that CPS would allow me to keep him for a very long time.

For quite some time, we just sat together, basking in each other's close togetherness and in our mutual love that seemed to be growing by the minute. Now and then, I kissed the top of my boy's small head, which made him try to melt into my enveloping aura even deeper. That is, until he started to produce another series of heartfelt yawns, and I thought now would be a good time to put him to bed.

After again kissing the top of his unruly blond hair, I asked him:

"Shall I put you to bed now?"

While producing another heartfelt yawn, my sleepy looking boy nodded his consent. He even lifted both arms high into the air, as if he expected me to help with his undressing. Of course, I happily helped him shuck his clothes, as I had done with my own daughters so many times before. Old memories turned up in my mind, of my own girls being in their carefree youth full of joy and happiness. How I wished I would be able to give my boy the same carefree youth my two daughters had, despite his severe burns. Inwardly, I again promised I would do everything in my control to help my boy grow up in lots and lots of tender loving care!

Soon, little Harry was clad only in his loose fitting yellow snoopy briefs. All the time, he had a blissful smile on his happy looking face, as if he enjoyed my help very much and life was good. Now, he hopped off my lap, turned around, and looked at me as if he waited for me to finish his final undressing...

Suddenly, I felt unsure, because I didn't know how I should proceed from here. My boy had already told me he always slept without any clothes on, clad only in his 'birthday suit', because his burns started to itch under pressure or in a too warm bed. Only, did he really want me to take off his briefs as well? Wouldn't that be very inappropriate, for a grownup who was not related to him and only knew him for such a short time?

How would our meddlesome Big Brother society react, if they ever heard of my undressing such a small boy to nakedness? Wouldn't they try to convict me and put me in jail, for performing 'improper behavior' with an 'unrelated minor'? Of course, I didn't want to be put in jail for society's crazy beliefs! However, I also didn't want to reject or disappoint my new little friend, who just started to trust me and only asked me to help him with his undressing. Wanting to have his explicit permission first, I asked my boy:

"Do you really want me to take off your briefs as well?"

Looking at me as if he couldn't understand why I even bothered asking him, my boy responded:

"Of course, silly! I've already told you I always sleep in my birthday suit, because my burns start to itch under pressure or in a too warm bed. By the way, do you have some soothing oil to rub it into my scars, as Jack always did before we went to bed?"

"Well, let me think. Will a few drops of massage-oil do?"

"I don't know. Will you wash it off if it makes the itching worse?"

"I promise!"

Again feeling unsure, I bent over towards my boy and hesitantly peeled his loose fitting briefs off. For a second, I tried not to look at his unclad body, because I didn't want him to think I could be a 'dirty old man' lusting over naked children. Then, I couldn't help staring at all those ugly scars and all the wild flesh that marred what once had been a perfect little body. What an enormous burden this poor child had to bear, at such a young age!

Why was life punishing such a small child for something that clearly was not his fault? Or, could my little friend be 'redeeming some old Karma' as my old Indian Shaman once tried to tell me? At that time, I didn't believe the old Shaman, and thought he only explained his Indian belief to me. Later, I found out that almost every religion in the world believes in some form of punishment or redemption for our formerly committed sins and misdeeds. However, what terrible kind of 'committed sin' could demand such an extremely harsh punishment? Involuntarily, I got tears in my eyes from compassion and frustration.

All the time, my little Shaman stared into my eyes, while his wise blue orbs filled with more and more love and understanding. My inside was sure he had again picked up my thoughts, and he now wanted to help me feel better, just like his big brother had done. For a second, he put his small arms around my body and hugged me fiercely. Then, he left me and took a couple of steps backwards. Much to my surprise, he started to turn around, to let me have a good look at his burns as seen from every possible direction. Still looking at me with his understanding bright blue orbs, my boy told me:

"I know that my burns always have such an effect on new people, even on new doctors and nurses in the hospital. Therefore, please, first take a very good look at my ugly burns and scars, so that you get used to them. Then, try to understand that the REAL Harry isn't this burnt body, but he only lives inside it; and please don't pity me any longer, because I am NOT a cripple!"

My confused mind needed several seconds to think over what my brave little soldier had told me. Then, I choked up and started to cry uncontrollably! In a teary blur, I saw my burnt little friend turning around and around, while trustingly showing me his so terribly burnt body with all its ugly scars and still growing wild flesh. Again, I sensed an astonishing maturity and a surprising amount of Inner Pride in my boy's demeanor, as if this tiny boy really was an Aristocrat! Was this so extremely mature child only eight years old? What an astonishing insight did this little boy have in who he really was, for such a small kid! Had I ever been afraid I would not be able to raise HIM? I was now sure that this boy would be able to raise ME, easily and effortlessly, and he would do a very good job!

After taking another good look at my boy's burns, as he had asked me to do, I took a couple of deep breaths and pulled myself together, because I wanted to be strong for my boy. Of course, he was right. I had to get used to seeing his ugly burns and scars as soon as possible! Overflowing with even more love and compassion for my so special little friend, I reached for him and gently pulled him onto my lap.

Immediately, my boy let himself go and tried to melt away in my enveloping aura, while heaving a couple deep sighs of content. Again, he opened up to me and let me read his inside like an open book. This time, I sensed him leaving the last traces of his remaining fears, while at the same time establishing an unbreakable bond with me! From now on, I would always be his one and only 'Big Friend', even after death parted us.

For the remainder of his life, he would be totally devoted to me, who once was his 'Beloved Gypsy Monarch Harold the Great' and his trapper Dad. Working closely together, nothing or nobody would ever be able to separate us from each other, not even death. This so special little child really was MY BOY, my one and only little Soul Mate, and I was his 'Beloved Monarch Harold the Great' and his great-grandfather from one of our past lives, next to being his former trapper Dad. Feeling an intense gratitude, I again got tears in my eyes, this time from pure joy and ex-citement.

Quickly, my little soul mate left my lap and slid down onto the floor. He trotted towards the packet of tissues on my nightstand and opened it. While carrying a couple of tissues in his small hands, he quickly returned to me and clambered back onto my lap. Showing me his smuggest face, he gently admonished me:

"From now on, don't cry any more but only ENJOY my pleasant company!"

With little fun lights in his naughty looking bright blue eyes, he took a few tissues and started to dry my teary eyes. After cleaning my face, he even tried to let me blow my nose! Again, I saw his proud aura of Pure Nobility, as if this boy could be of Royal Heritage. He could easily be a little Prince, used to giving commands to his beloved subjects. Who the heck WAS this small but extremely special little boy? And, who the heck was I, to be his new 'Big Friend'?

Hesitantly, I touched an ugly looking string of still growing wild flesh on my boy's right hip. When or where would I have to be careful with touching his so badly burnt body? Still feeling very impressed by my boy's proud demeanor, I asked him:

"Does it hurt when I touch your scars? When, or where, do I have to be careful with your burns?"

With a happy smile, my brave little soldier explained:

"Touching my scars only tickles a little bit. It starts to hurt badly when my skin becomes too tight and I stretch out too much. Then, my doctors will again loosen the too tight skin. They told me I am very lucky that I am still able to feel all the important things like touch, hot, and cold. Under my burnt skin, all my important nerves are still intact, because Jack immediately rolled me around in some cold and wet grass. My burns only start itching terribly if there is a constant pressure on them, like wearing too tight clothes or lying in a too warm bed. My doctor had prescribed some soothing oil, but I don't know where the bottle is. John has already looked for it, but he too couldn't find it. I think the house owners have thrown it away, together with Jack's other possessions. Now, I feel too sleepy to tell you more, but I promise to tell you everything tomorrow morning as soon as we are awake. Please, could we go to bed now?"

Of course, as a responsible grownup, I should have thought of such an important thing myself! Although my little soul mate acted extremely mature for his young age, ultimate, he was only a small boy, and I remembered from my own daughters that young children needed lots and lots of sleep! Again feeling all mushy and full of love, I lifted my boy into my arms, while he put his small arms around my neck. Without thinking, I put one hand under his unclad little bottom, to support his weight.

OOPS! Wouldn't touching this most private part of my naked boy be way too improper?

Much to my relief, my boy didn't even flinch, probably because he was already used to John or Jack carrying him around like this. He only snuggled even closer against my chest and cozily pushed his head under my chin. Feeling reassured, I left my hand where it was, while I carried him into his own room. With a deep sigh of content, my boy crawled under the blankets of his makeshift bed and closed his eyes.

Only, I had promised to look for my bottle of massage oil! Therefore, I hurried downstairs. Without any problems, I found the small bottle in one of my halfway filled cardboard boxes. Feeling happy, I returned into my boy's room with the bottle of massage oil in my hand, ready to anoint his itchy scars. However, he opened his eyes only a little bit while he mumbled:

"This bed isn't too warm, so I think I don't need any oil tonight."

He smiled apologetically, yawned, and disappeared into dreamland. Still feeling full of love and all mushy inside, I turned around and tiptoed out of his room, leaving the door ajar. Inwardly, I prayed to any Supreme Being that society would allow me to keep my boy for a very long time. I already started to love him more and more; and I would do everything that I could to be a real 'Big Friend' to my little soul mate who still needed me, despite his so astonishing maturity.

After returning into my own bedroom, I first folded my boy's small clothes and neatly put them onto one of the chairs. Tomorrow, my young neighbors would bring his other possessions, and John would help him with setting up his 'old' room. After they were ready, I would take my boy downtown to buy him more furniture to decorate his room. And, of course, I still needed to refill my nearly empty refrigerator! Quickly, I undressed and went to my bathroom, because I wanted to take a warm shower. However, even after lots of trying, the light bulb over my head refused to switch on. Feeling a bit irritated, I washed myself with cold water in the dark. Tomorrow, both little Harry and I would first take a warm shower. Then, I would try to repair the obviously defective light bulb.

While walking back to my bedroom, I suddenly realized that I was completely naked! OOPS! Suppose my boy woke up and left his room to go to the bathroom or drink some water. Wouldn't he feel terribly shocked and perhaps even start screaming if he saw me like this, clad only in my 'birthday suit'? Had this little boy ever seen a grownup without any clothes on, while living in our so extremely prudish world? That would be very unlikely! Besides, our society makes us believe that young children, confronted unexpectedly with seeing a naked grownup, will be damaged for the remainder of their lives.

Of course, both as a loving father and as a psychotherapist, I had never seen any valid proof that confirmed any of those silly fables. However, I HAD to reckon with society's crazy beliefs, whether they were right or not. Otherwise, they could make my life, and that of my little friend, very difficult. Nobody would ever listen to my valid arguments, because 'they' were absolutely sure they were right, and they would probably tell me that 'everybody else knows this'.

Normally, I always took a quick shower and then just jumped under my blankets. However, now that I had a small child living in my house, I had to change my usual habits drastically! Of course, his wardens or his school had already told him to always look out for any signs of 'improper behavior' from so-called 'danger strangers'. Therefore, I decided to keep my briefs on from now on, just for prudence reasons. One could never know.

Still muttering under my breath, I took a fresh pair of briefs and quickly put them on. Then, I again left my bedroom and tiptoed towards little Harry's room, just to have another look at my little tenant. My boy was already sound asleep, softly snoring, with a satisfied smile on his so badly burnt little face. Feeling happy and full of tender loving care, I returned to my own bedroom, crawled under my blankets, hugged my pillow, closed my eyes, and tried to get some sleep.

Immediately, the disturbing view of my boy's terribly devastated little body returned into my mind, making me shudder with horror! Would his doctors ever be able to give him a more presentable look, maybe by using some newly discovered 'cultivated skin transplant' that I once read about? How many more operations would my boy need in the future, to loosen his too tight skin or to give him artificial lips and a somewhat better looking nose? Would he ever be able to have children of his own, because of his so badly damaged little pecker? I wasn't rich, but I would happily spend all my money on my so terribly burnt little soul mate, to help him feel a little bit happier! If only I knew how to help him.

At last, sleep took over, and I disappeared into dreamland. Soon, I started to dream, about going to an expensive 'skin transplant clinic' where my little soul mate got a brand new face and nice looking new skin on his completely rejuvenated body...

# # #

- A few excerpts from your wonderful 'fanmail' emails:

> This is by far the best story. I read the first ten chapters last night until I had to force myself to sleep. I read the rest tonight, and I just had to write to tell you what I thought! You truly have a talent for writing and I hope you will continue the story for a long time. Your characters touch my soul, I also admire your courage to tell it like it is: just because a man cares about a boy, and cares for him, and even if the man and boy are often cuddling, clothed and unclothed, and even if the boy is comfortable naked with the man, it is NOT always sexual. Men who are caring and sensitive enough to show their love to a boy who wants, needs, and returns that love are too often labeled as pedophiles or predators by a society driven by a "protect the children" hysteria. "Pedophiles," many of whom haven't the slightest sexual interest in children and are quite mainstream in their sexual orientations, are hunted, denounced and punished in modern-day witch hunts. I applaud you for showing that men and boys can express love and tenderness by physical closeness without the man coercing sexual acts from innocent and frightened children.

# # #

Do you too want to comment on my ongoing 'Gypsy Series' stories, or perhaps praise them?
Then, please go to my internet site www.gypsyseries.com and send me your email from there.
Of course, you can also BUY the printed books from my site! (once they are up for sale)
Here comes a link to the printed real book: https://www.createspace.com/3755057
Or, get the e-book FOR FREE: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/91430

Aad Aandacht is a Dutch psychotherapist who loves writing 'emotional rollercoasters with a message'.
May our Supreme Being be with you, bless you, and send you lots of Real Love in your life.