> 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:

Another important thought struck me. I suddenly realized that I was taking on an enormous amount of responsibility, by letting this vulnerable child enter my life. My little Gypsy boy wasn't only burnt on his outside, but he could be damaged in his inside as well. Therefore, I had to be extremely careful with my suddenly suicidal little friend! And, I had to start right NOW.

Looking at my clock on the wall, I asked John:

"What do you think, John? Is your little brother still awake?"

Looking at me with sudden hope in his eyes, John re-sponded:

"I suppose that Harry still waits for me to return home, because, before I left, he almost begged me to tell me everything about you! Only, my father ordered me to be right back, so I think I have to go home now before he shows up here to collect me..."

"Shall I walk you home and try to have a quick word with Harry?"

"Oh, yes, please! That would be wonderful!"

Looking much happier, John hopped off my lap, turned around, and offered me another warm hug!

Again, my affectionate young friend was working his way even deeper into my heart! Teasingly, I put a kiss onto his forehead, which made him snicker and wipe the kiss away. Then, while bumping into each other on purpose, we went to the kitchen sink to wash our teary faces and make ourselves a bit more presentable. Again, we started to splash each other with water, although, this time, we tried to restrict ourselves, to keep our clothes dry. Again, we playfully started to mock fight to have some more of the same kitchen towel.

Of course, being the oldest and therefore the strongest one, I won...


- CHAPTER 8. John's parents; and taking 'my boy' home.

Still chuckling and feeling full of love, I told John:

"Thank you very much, my dear friend, for being such a lovable and affectionate person!"

John beamed back at me with a proud face, while he responded:

"Thank you too, my dear sir, for helping me and wanting to be my grownup friend! I only wish that you could be my Dad..."

In a sudden hurry, I followed John outside and closed my front door behind. Walking together, we trotted towards John's house that was five doors away, while my spontaneous young friend just took my hand as if he had done this all his life. On our way, he pointed to the fourth door and explained:

"This is where Thomas and Chrissy live. During daylight, Harry always walks to them and to Jack's house through our backyards, to hide his burnt face from any unexpected strangers."

Soon, we arrived at the fifth house in the row that turned out to be John's abode. John took a key out of his pocket, opened the front door, and politely allowed me to go inside first. Soft music played in the background and the house lightly smelled of incense. It made me feel welcome, while John took me through their hallway and into the dimly lit living room. Curiously, I looked around, while waiting until my eyes would be accustomed to the dim light.

Then, I saw my little namesake, lying stretched out on the carpeted floor. Little Harry was playing a game of cards with Marrie and Mark. He looked up from his game when John and I entered the living room, obviously feeling surprised to see ME. Again, everything around us ceased to exist. Immediately, my boy's bright blue eyes pierced right into my soul, while his aura reached out towards my thoughts and quickly paged through them, as if searching for any telltale signs of disgust or rejection. One by one, he opened my inner doors, looked inside, and carefully closed them again.

Surprisingly, my Inside felt absolutely safe in his skilled 'hands'! I was sure that my little Shaman would never damage me, not even accidentally, by unintentionally stirring some hidden trauma. How did this so extremely special boy know what he had to do and how to do it? Even my extensive course in 'aura reading and healing' had never taught me how to do something like this. Would I ever be able to defend myself against such a powerful 'psychic intrusion', if needed? Wow, what an extremely special child was he. And, this powerful little Shaman would soon be 'MY BOY'!

After searching my soul for sincerity and looking for any telltale signs of anger or rejection, my boy left my aura and carefully closed the last inner door. Immediately, he turned into a vulnerable little boy who felt a bit unsure how I would react, while smiling apologetically as if excusing himself for being too impertinent. At the same time, he seemed to feel relieved, because his penetrating gaze softened considerably. Trustingly, he opened up to me completely.

Again, I used my 'aura reading' capabilities to read my boy's feelings like an open book. Unfortunately, he still had some remaining fears. Although he was an old and very wise soul, at the same time, he also was a vulnerable little boy who had to grow up some more first, and who still needed a loving and caring grownup in his life. He also showed me his regret for suddenly running away, and a deep longing to make up with me. He knew he could have disappointed me, but hoped and prayed I still wanted to be his new Big Friend.

Again, I opened my arms towards my boy, as I had done before. While sinking onto one knee, to be on level with him, I told him:

"Hi, my friend! May I have another hug, please?"

For a split second, my boy again showed me his fears of being disappointed. Could he really trust me? Did I really accept him just as he was, including his ugly shriveled and stained lips? Did I still want to be his new Big Friend, even after he suddenly left me and fled away from my house without an explanation?

Again, I started to send my boy all the Universal Love that my heart was able to bring forth, while telling him in my mind it was ME who had made a silly mistake, by reacting too prudish. Please, could my boy forgive me for my obvious stupidity?

Again, my boy picked up my thoughts, and his beaming face tried to light up the entire room. Determinedly, he pushed his game of cards towards Marrie and rose from the floor. For a split second, he seemed to hesitate again, still looking straight into my eyes for any telltale signs of rejection. Then, he leapt into my still open arms, and told me with a surprisingly deep baritone voice:

"I am sorry..."

My boy started to cry from sheer happiness, while I folded my arms around his surprisingly warm frame and held him close against my chest. No words in the world are able to describe what I felt, now that 'my boy' so trustfully committed himself to me. My heart sensed an entire mixture of fatherly feelings, deep love, responsibility, eternal friendship, and pure joy, all in one. We had definitively found each other, and my own heart was absolutely sure we would be good friends for the re-mainder of our lives. Even my analytical mind respectfully kept its meddling mouth shut; at least for now.

Again, many 'memories' showed up in my mind, showing that my boy and I had been together during sev-eral of our past lives. We had been dear friends, kindred souls, blood brothers, father and son, teacher and pupil, King and Vice King, and much more. My own heart was now sure we were Soul Mates and that we BELONGED to each other, for now and for all eternity!

Again, I got tears in my own eyes, this time from pure happiness. Never before had I cried as much as today; but it felt wonderful to let myself go completely and to allow myself to be this emotional. Of course, my little 'soul mate' cried with me, but our mingling tears were tears of pure joy! Finally, our waiting time was over. We had found each other and were together again. From now on, nobody would ever be able to separate us, not in all eternity!

Happily, we rubbed our faces together, stared into each other's eyes, and grinned at each other like crazy. Again, we melted into each other, mingling our joined tears of happiness. For a long time, we just stared into each other's eyes, almost drowning in each other's mutual warmth and powerful love. Tentatively, I puckered my mouth and touched his distorted little lips with mine. Immediately, my boy kissed me back, full on my lips, eagerly and without any hesitation.

Enthusiastically, we started to give each other small pecks on the lips. This time, our kisses felt wonderful, like coming home, or like sealing our Eternal Friendship. All my hesitation was gone, and my 'puritanical inside' was sure I had turned into a real 'kisser' for the remainder of my life! This eight-year-old little Gypsy boy with his badly burnt face really was my own son, my dearest friend, my long lost buddy, and my Eternal Soul Mate, all in one.

My inside was now sure that, despite our difference in age, we would always be close friends, even after one of us died and returned to heaven! Looking into my boy's beautiful bright blue eyes, I could see he recognized me too and that he felt just as happy as I was. I had found MY eternal soul mate, and he certainly had found HIS!

After a long time of cuddling and feeling happy, I disentangled my 'little soul mate' from my arms. Slowly, I rose from the carpeted floor, and my boy rose with me and ducked his small head under my arm. Obviously, his 'vulnerable little boy' side still wanted to feel safe and protected. While I draped my arm around his shoulders and pulled him close to my side, I started to look around.

Mark only stared at little Harry and me, still lying on the floor. Did I see some jealousy in his eyes? Marrie still sat on the floor and looked at us with tears in her eyes, as if she was very happy for us. My young friend John had already placed himself next to us, looking both very proud and extremely happy.

On her couch sat a dark-haired middle-aged woman, approvingly looking at little Harry and me. She smiled broadly, while her eyes sent us very much love and understanding. I liked her at first sight, and thought we could easily be good friends and happy neighbors.

In an armchair, a tall man with hazel eyes nervously smoked a cigarette. His piercing eyes drifted from my boy to me, to his wife, to his children, and back to my boy and me. I did NOT like that man at first sight, and my gut feeling told me this was mutual! This nervously smoking man clearly was not at ease with our 'situation'.

I ruffled my boy's unruly blond hair; and he looked up at me and smiled at me with adoration in his bright blue eyes. Silently, I looked from him to the smoking man, and I sensed how my little Shaman read my thoughts and therefore knew without words what I not wanted to say aloud. I would NOT talk to that nervously smoking man, unless he opened his mouth and asked me something first. Together, we went to the dark-haired woman, and I apologized:

"I am very sorry for intruding on you like this! This evening, John paid me an unexpected visit and told me a few things about his 'little Gypsy brother' over here. Therefore, I hoped I could have a word with Harry to help him overcome his obvious sadness."

The woman offered me a warm smile, while she responded:

"Please, call me Trudy, and I am very glad that you are here! All of us were at a loss, because nothing we told Harry could help him out of his desperation. Nobody could reach him any more, not even John and his neighborhood friends. Harry didn't listen to anybody any more and just kept crying and crying. For a moment, I was even angry with you, for bringing him into such a difficult situation."

At that moment, John jumped up and interrupted his mother:

"Mom, you are not fair! None of this has been Big Harry's fault! Nobody could imagine what Harry felt or why he suddenly started to cry and ran away without saying a word."

At hearing John's angry words, my boy ducked from under my arm and stepped towards his 'big brother'. This time, he radiated an extremely powerful energy, as if this tiny boy could be of Pure Royal Nobility! His proud demeanor also showed an enormous amount of Inner Power, as if this tiny Gypsy Shaman could be a little Prince who gently admonished his disrespectful subject.

Talking with a surprisingly deep baritone voice and with a slight outlandish accent, my boy told John:

"No John, of course you cannot imagine why I suddenly started to cry or why I ran away, because you are not a creepy Gypsy orphan with such a freaky face. You never have to hide your burns from anybody else, and you never have to sneak to your friends in the dark or through their backyards. Nobody ever makes fun of you, and nobody ever points at you in the streets and calls you a 'freak' or an 'alien'. That is what I feel every day, and that is why I again reacted shy and ran away. But, of course, you cannot help it. You just cannot sense my pain and my fears. Yet, I still love you very much, for being my big brother and trying to protect me!"

Smilingly, my 'little Royal Prince' put his small arms around John's waist and hugged his surprised looking 'big brother' fiercely! Immediately, John draped his own arms around his little brother and hugged him back, with a thankful look in his deep brown eyes. It was very clear that both 'adopted brothers' were loving each other very much, despite their unexpected quarrel!

After a few seconds of hugging John, my 'little soul mate' returned to me, ducked his small head under my arm, and determinedly draped my still waiting arm around his shoulders. At that moment, I could clearly feel my little Shaman's Inner Powers. Wow, what an extremely special child was he! Did I ever think I had to protect HIM?

Glaring at us with disapproving eyes, the nervously smoking man in the armchair put his still burning cigarette into a nearly filled ashtray and sat upright. Pointing at the clock on the wall, he seemed to feel both very uneasy and rather impatient. My gut feeling told me that this man did NOT approve of the more and more blossoming friendship between his children and this 'ancient grandpa'.

With a raspy sounding voice, the man announced:

"Children, it's time to go upstairs and to bed, NOW!"

For several seconds, nothing happened. Then, almost unwillingly, my little soul mate ducked his head from under my arm and turned around to face me. As if suddenly feeling a bit unsure, he looked up at me with his piercing bright blue eyes. Hesitantly, his deep baritone voice asked me, with a pleasant sounding outlandish accent:

"Could you please take me back to Jack's former house? I want to have my own room back and stay with you from now on!"

At hearing his little brother's request, John's proudly beaming face almost lit up the entire room, while he exclaimed:

"Yes, Dad, Harry has an excellent idea! Finally, I can have my own room back without sharing it."

Furtively, John looked at his little brother and me, this time with some fear in his deep brown eyes. Did we understand the real meaning behind his over-enthusiastic words? Of course we did! Both my boy and I smiled at John, and his face brightened with the relief while he smiled back at us... Only, 'Dad' didn't seem to feel too happy with his son's 'excellent idea'. Glaring at John, his raspy voice responded:

"I want to talk with this stranger first. Now, upstairs, all of you!"

With again some fear in his bright blue eyes, my boy asked me:

"Will you please wake me up when we go home?"

"Yes, I promise!"

Reluctantly, my boy turned around and followed John, Mark and Marrie into their hallway. For a split second, he looked back at me longingly, before he disappeared and slowly closed the door behind. Faintly, I heard them climb the stairs to the second floor, obviously trying not to make too much noise.

Suddenly, my inside felt a bit empty, as if it already missed 'my boy'. Why was that? At hearing my boy say 'when WE go home', I had felt both proud and elated! Obviously, my boy was already sure that he was going to live with me in what was Jack's former house. Besides, the other day, I had promised to give him his 'own' room back and even furnish it for him if he wished...

However, much to my surprise, my inside also felt some reluctance, as if it was NOT sure about my too spontaneous decision. Why was that? What could be bothering me? Of course, as a trained psychotherapist, I immediately questioned my hidden feelings. Was I really willing to take such a vulnerable little boy into my house, to raise him until he would be old enough to fend for himself?

Of course, I wasn't Jack, the person who had rescued him and who had been almost a 'replacement father' to the little orphan. On the contrary, in reality, I still was a 'stranger' to this boy, who had met him for the first time only a few hours ago! What would happen once the authorities found out that I suddenly hosted a small boy in my house? We were living in an extremely mistrustful world, and I had to reckon seriously with all the meddle-some people around me.

At that moment, 'Dad' interrupted my train of thoughts, this time talking with a whiny voice:

"Sorry sir; but WE haven't been introduced! MY name is Eric."

Reluctantly, 'Dad' extended his smoke-stained hand towards me. While I took his hand full of brownish cigarette marks and shook it, involuntarily, my inside shuddered. To me, his effeminate handshake felt quite the opposite of a manly 'firm grip'! Obviously, I had to be very careful with this mistrusting man who already saw me as an enemy. Probably, he would do everything that he could to 'prove he was right'. I also wondered how a cold and hateful man like Eric had been able to father a warm and loving boy like John...

Glaring at me with cold eyes, 'Dad' grumbled:

"Sit down if you wish, and do you care for coffee?"

"Yes, please, black would be nice, with two lumps of sugar."

Feeling more and more unsure, I sat down on another easy chair; while Trudy disappeared into her kitchen. While Trudy started rummaging with what sounded like coffee cups, Eric immediately started his 'talk' to me, with a raspy and still whiny sounding voice:

He started to tell me that the authorities had saddled him with their burnt little Gypsy orphan, but without HIS consent! His wife had insisted on taking that boy in their custody to help 'Jack', the strange neighbor in the same street who had been living all alone in such a big house for more than twenty years. Two years ago, John suddenly brought Jack here who was sobbing as a little baby. Jack seemed to be very charmed with a six-year-old burnt little Gypsy boy who had been hospitalized and was now delivered to an orphanage. Although HE didn't approve, his wife had insisted on taking the burnt boy in their custody, so that he could live with Jack in Jack's house.

Before Eric went on, he first lit another cigarette and teasingly blew some smoke into my direction. Was that 'man' really trying to make me angry? When I didn't react, Eric just went on:

Now that Jack had died, his little orphan was back in HIS house; and, of course, HE had now to decide what was going to happen to HIS boy! Living in Jack's house had seemed to be okay, because Jack always tutored the boy and the boy had his own room in Jack's house. How-ever, I was still a stranger to him and to the boy, and he didn't know me; and, of course, the neighbors would start talking again. Who was I? Was I married? Did I have any children of my own? Why was I here, and what the heck did I want from HIS boy?

By now feeling totally perplexed, I balled my fists in my trouser pockets and nearly forgot to breathe from suddenly flaring anger! Who was that arrogantly smoking man who again blew some smoke into my direction, and what kind of an interrogation was this? And, why was that arrogant man constantly talking about 'the boy'? Feeling more and more angry with that continually smoking man who again lit another cigarette, I thought about leaving the house and forcefully slamming the door. Only, then, I could be sure I would lose all my young friends, and that was the very last thing I wanted. Clearly, I had to be very careful with my answers...

Now that I had heard Eric's 'talk with me', I was absolutely sure I wanted to take my boy home and give him his own room back. If it were up to me, I would immediately storm upstairs and kidnap him! Fortunately, despite my still flaring anger, I also realized that I had to satisfy Eric first, by giving him some proper answers. Ultimately, little Harry WAS in his custody, and Eric had every right to forbid both my boy and his other children to visit me ever again...

Therefore, I quickly suppressed my anger, by taking a few deep breaths and forcing my angry inside to calm down, as I had taught myself during my own difficult youth. Then, I started to answer Eric's questions, while trying to sound calm:

"I am a retired psychotherapist, sixty five years old, and I have been married but divorced a couple of months ago. I also have two grownup daughters of my own who are living in another town..."

Exactly at that moment, Trudy stormed into the living room, still drying her hands. Demonstratively, she stepped in between her still smoking husband and me and put her hands on her hips. Looking furious, she stared her husband down until he averted his eyes.

Then, with fire-shooting eyes, she barked at him:

"Eric, this is more than enough! You should know that John thinks the world of 'Big Harry', and you also should know that John is an excellent judge of character! Totally unlike you, my dear. You always criticize and belittle people, but I have had more than enough of that. I trust Big Harry, John trusts him, and Harry already adores him. Therefore, Harry is free to go with his new Big Friend if he wants to, and all our own children are allowed to visit Big Harry whenever they want to. And, from now on, you shut up!"

Smiling broadly, Trudy sat herself down on her own couch like a queen, while she told me:

"From now on, Harry is all yours; and you can do with him as you wish. I can see in both your and his eyes that you and he belong to each other. That boy needs you, and I am sure you need that boy too! Tomorrow, I will ask John to help you with setting up Harry's old room, and I will ask Mark and Marrie to help move his belongings to your house. Now, go get Harry and take him with you. He sleeps in John's room, upstairs, second door to the left, and his clothes are on one of their chairs. Do you need any help dressing him?"

Smiling at me, Trudy pointed through the open door to the stairs in the hallway and beckoned me to go upstairs and get Harry...

Suddenly feeling numb and a bit shaky, I first shook my head to indicate I didn't need any help dressing my boy. Then, I slowly turned around, entered the dimly lit hallway, and hesitatingly climbed the stairs to the second floor and John's room. Feeling like an intruder, I opened the door to John's bedroom.

First, I saw John, peacefully sleeping in the nearest bed, with his head just above the blankets. Where was little Harry? Why didn't my boy sleep next to John? John had told me that his little brother used to crawl in his bed, because he used to sleep next to his Big Friend and hated sleeping alone.

Then, I saw my little soul mate, peacefully lying on his back in another bed. His small head rested on a pillow, while his distorted little mouth showed a faint smile. Feeling all mushy and full of love, I stepped inside, clicked the lights on, and stared at the softly snoring little boy who from now on would be 'my boy'.

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

> I seldom write to the authors, but I want to add my praise to the others for your interesting and warm story. This is so much more of a believable story of love, that it's great to read. Many thanks for your good work.

> Well done again. I like it, and also the comments you get from, what I can only describe as a group of quality readers. I think the story - together with the comments - make quite an impact and hopefully is making more people reflect about what is what and what is really right and wrong in the physical world that our bodies live in.

> Hi I am reading one of the best stories I have ever read in a very long time. Each chapter is a new turning on and I check every day for the next, your understand of how boys think is first rate your english is very good and precise. Have you other written work in english, or stories in you own language, so much I like to know but I must not hold you up from writing. keep up the good work. Lots of Love and Peace.


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Do you too want to comment on my ongoing 'Gypsy Series' stories, or perhaps even praise them?
Then, please go to my internet site www.gypsyseries.com and send me an 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.