- Harry AnderS -
Dutch psychotherapist and alternative writer

'Born to be a King'
- by Harry AnderS -

An inspirational fantasy



    A retired psychotherapist meets a severely burnt little Gypsy boy, and takes him into his house.
The boy turns out to be the Heir to the Throne.

This emotional rollercoaster hints at past lives, spirit helpers, karma, the Power of Love, and contains several practical psychological concepts.
The story is written by a retired Dutch psychotherapist, living in The Netherlands, and specialized in supporting troubled children.


Chapter 10 ended with:

    "Will you help me, Dad? It's too sticky, and I am afraid I'll tear the edges."

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

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

    He dried his face, filled a bowl with warm water and soap, and painstakingly cleaned his mask.
He took the greenish model out of the cardboard box, and carefully draped the mask on it, to keep it in shape.
    He went to the living room and put it on a corner of the dresser, in plain sight:

    "That's me, the freshly cleaned green alien."

    John looked at the mask, and chuckled:

    "That sounds like the title of a creepy film..."


Chapter 11. A new friend, abused by his own father and desperate for love.

    We returned to our car in the driveway, untied the packages, and lifted the first one off the roof.
John and I carried it inside and towards the stairs, where we put it down to have a little rest.
Now all three of us tried to lug the unmanageable thing upstairs, struggling and panting...
How should one man and two small boys carry such a heavy package upstairs and around a corner, without letting it slip?
The package had four corners, and each of us was able to hold onto only one of them...
Actually, we badly needed a fourth person to help us!

    Eventually, the first package was in little Harry's room, and all of us were dead tired.
John groaned and panted, but he also had a clever idea:

    "Shall I ask Thomas to help us, or perhaps his father?"

    "That is a very good idea! Let's hope they are home..."

    We went downstairs to prepare ourselves for carrying the next package, and took three glasses of water to the porch.
We sat down onto its floor, still sweaty and panting, wiping the perspiration from our foreheads...

    Suddenly, a boy of about John's age, with dark hair and brown eyes, his skateboard clamped under his arm, appeared in the driveway.
He looked at us, and at the five remaining packages on the roof of our car:

    "Do you need a helping hand?"

    He put his skateboard against the fence, and joined us on the porch.
John went to the kitchen, and returned with another glass of water.
The boy gratefully accepted it, and we sipped our water in silence.
He seemed to know John and little Harry, and I thought he could be the nice boy who taught little Harry to do double flips...
    John put his empty glass down, and impatiently waited for us:

    "Come on; let's carry the remaining packages upstairs. With all four of us helping, it should be a piece of cake."

    With the four of us, carrying them upstairs turned out to be a lot easier!
We carried all the packages upstairs one by one, without taking a rest.
Finally, we had three packages in John's room, and the other three in little Harry's room.
It felt good to have them upstairs; but, again, we were rather sweaty...
John and little Harry headed for my bedroom, shucked their shoes, and slumped down onto my waterbed.
They exaggerated, panting and wiping their foreheads, and motioning their new friend to join them...

    The new boy hesitated in the doorway, and looked at me with some fear in his eyes...
I ruffled his hair, and reassured him:

    "Go join your friends. I think you have earned some rest too!"

    The boy looked relieved, kicked his shoes off, and threw himself upon the bed...

    "Wow, you have a WATER bed!" he exclaimed, and started to jump up and down.

    "Look out, before you punch a hole and it leaks!" little Harry teased him.

    For a moment, the new boy hesitated...

    "You're crazy!" he decided, grinning.

    He poked little Harry in the ribs, and started to jump up and down again.
After a while, he calmed down, and let himself fall down next to the others.
    John beckoned me:

    "Come on, Dad, you need your rest too. There is enough room for all of us!"

    My poor old body felt tired too, after all the lugging; so I decided to join my boys.
The moment I entered the bed, John and little Harry crawled onto my stomach, competing for the best place as usual.
I threw my arms around them, kissed their foreheads, and held them close...

    The new boy looked at my ministrations with bulging eyes.
Slowly, his face colored a deep red, he held his breath, and his body stiffened.
I could read some fear in his eyes, but also a need, and a deep longing...
He seemed to be a very lonely boy, who clearly wasn't used to a grown-up romping with his children!
I was too tired to listen to my feelings, closed my eyes, and drifted off into a slumber.
Vaguely, I heard my boys trying to convince their new friend to participate in some fun.
To no avail, the boy didn't dare...


    I woke up with the joyful sounds of three laughing boys, obviously having lots of fun in our shower.
I grinned, felt curious about what John had invented this time, but decided to doze a little longer...
After a while, I woke up again, and the boys were still having fun, laughing and shouting.
I decided to have a look at what they were doing, and where they had left our hopefully still dry towels...
I yawned, stretched out to relax my strained muscles, left my bed, and went to the shower.

    I opened the door, and was greeted by a spectacular sight.
Little Harry tried to defend the rebuilt plastic cup fort. He jumped up and down, trying to rescue all the hit cups that flew through the air...
John seemed to have built another brainy construction; this time consisting of a plastic tube and an attached balloon.
The new boy had a similar device. He sat on the floor, cross-legged, partaking in the game with beaming eyes.
Both of them pushed a cork into the plastic tube, squeezed the balloon; and, with a loud plop, the cork headed for the plastic wall.
Inevitably, the cork blew the next plastic cup away, causing little Harry to leap after it with a groan and a desperate face...

    Suddenly, little Harry saw me, and shouted:

    "Hi, Dad, it's good you woke up! Please, help me defend my fort!"

    The new boy looked up; saw me, and all the blood left his face.
He cringed; and jumped up, suddenly trembling with fear...
What was the problem? What was he so afraid of, all of a sudden?
John seemed to have the same thoughts. He stopped his attacks, and stared at the boy...

    "What’s up, Davey?" he asked, with concern in his eyes...

    Little Harry left his fort, and inquisitively looked at the newcomer...

    The boy looked around like a trapped animal, trembling all over.
Suddenly, he forcefully threw himself past me and bolted into the hallway.
He snatched his clothes from the floor and let himself fall down the stairs, nearly breaking his neck.
The front door slammed and he was gone, leaving us totally astounded...
What had happened? Why did he run away all of a sudden?

    Two very distressed boys silently donned their clothes and followed me downstairs.
We sat down on the couch, and I put my arms around them:

    "Do you have any idea what happened to your new friend?"

    John looked pensive and slowly shook his head...

    "I don't know for sure, but Davey seemed to be afraid of you... At first, he didn't want to join us in the shower, although he admitted he felt sweaty too. He followed us after we shucked our clothes, but we had to convince him that you didn't care, and wouldn't bother us for taking a shower without asking you first...
    "After he saw our cup fort, he undressed and joined us, but he kept looking at the door... Until, after a while, he started to enjoy himself; and, finally, he really got into our play. That is, until he saw you and freaked out..."

    "Do you have any idea why he would be afraid of me?"

    "That's crazy! Nobody can ever have any reason to be afraid of YOU! Come on, Harry; let's go to his house and ask him what his problem is!"

    They donned their shoes, hugged me, and headed for Davey's house...

    I went to the kitchen, brewed myself a cup of coffee, sat down, and tried to remember what had happened...
I started from the moment I saw the new boy, Davey, showing up in our driveway and offering us a helping hand.
He seemed to be a nice boy, with an open and curious face and intelligent eyes.
I supposed he was the same boy who taught little Harry to do double flips on his skateboard.
Both John and little Harry liked him, and he seemed to feel at home in their company...

    He helped us carry our heavy packages upstairs, and he turned out to be a useful helper.
One time, I had the strange idea that he tried to avoid bodily contact with me... but I wasn't sure, and didn't give it any more attention...
Now I realized that I had a double feeling. I had seen a longing in his eyes, but I saw some fear in them as well. What was the trouble with this boy?
Another thing was, why did I feel attracted to this child in a strange way, as if I had to protect him? Protect him from what?

    I remembered how John and little Harry entered my bedroom and slumped down onto our waterbed, exaggerating about being tired.
They motioned Davey to join them; but he hesitated in the doorway, looking at me for approval...
Again, I saw the same longing in his eyes, mingled with the same fear. Why was he afraid of me?
I ruffled his hair; and a smile lighted his face, as if he felt very relieved.
He threw himself upon our waterbed and started to jump up and down.
Again, I smiled about little Harry trying to use my little joke on him...

    I remembered how I joined them, and my boys crawled onto my stomach, as usual, giggling and competing for the best place.
Suddenly, Davey's eyes started to bulge, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing...
His face colored a deep red, and now I saw so much pain and despair in his brown eyes...
A feeling of deep compassion overwhelmed me, and my eyes started to tear up.
This was a desperate and very wounded boy. Who had been hurting him like this?

    I remembered waking up with the sounds of three happy boys, playing in the shower.
Again, I saw Davey in my mind, sitting on the shower floor with a look of total bliss on his face.
That is to say, until he saw me, and suddenly cringed with fear...
Again, I was overwhelmed by compassion. Never before had I seen so much pain and fear in the eyes of a child; like a trapped animal, desperately trying to escape...
I shivered, and my heart opened to this obviously so severely damaged boy. How could I help him? Would I be able to help him?
    Suddenly, I felt Jack around, and I heard his voice somewhere in my head:

    "I told you, you would be meeting several others, to guide them as well... This boy desperately needs you!"

    What? There would be another boy in my life, next to little Harry and John? I wasn't sure whether I really wanted that...

    The doorbell rang, and I went to the front door and opened it.
John and little Harry entered my house; followed by a sad looking woman and a timid looking Davey.
Davey immediately averted his eyes and stared at his shoes; fumbling his clothes. Now and then, he stole glances at me; and I thought I saw a lot of regret, and also a longing, in his eyes...
    The woman wiped her eyes with a tissue, and hesitantly asked me:

    "May I have a word in private with you, please?"

    "Yes, of course. Please, follow me," I answered her, guiding her to the kitchen.
    "My name is Harry, and I am the guardian of that small boy with his burnt face, little Harry," I introduced myself.

    "Yes, I know, because Davey keeps calling you 'Big Harry' all the time, and please call me Mary," she answered, showing a feeble smile.
    "My son, Davey, told me everything about you and your boys. He told me how he met your boys yesterday, and how shocked he was upon seeing such a severely burnt face.
    "Your son told him how he barely escaped a caravan on fire, and had to undergo at least four operations in two years time...
    "Davey taught him how to do double flips on his skateboard; and they became friends. After a while, they started to talk, and Davey was very surprised about how your boys were talking about their Dad with so much love and respect..."

    She stopped, got tears in her eyes, and blew her nose in another tissue.
She put the tissue back into her handbag, and continued:

    "Davey is an only child; and his own father is in prison for a long time. He abused Davey from a very young age, and Davey never told me because he believed that every father did those things with his own children. His father so cleverly hid everything from me; that I never suspected that anything was wrong, until two years ago when Davey started to bleed from his anus. I took him to a hospital, where they told me my child was severely abused...
    "My whole world scattered into pieces. After a humiliating process, his father was convicted and went to prison for a long time without ever seeing his son again. Davey still seems to miss him badly, despite everything he went through..."

    Mary started to sob again; and I offered her a glass of water.
After a moment, she went on:

    "Today, Davey surfed around the neighborhood on his skateboard, going on and on, hoping to see your boys back. He was close to desperation, as he thought he couldn't find your boys any more and he didn't know where you were living...
    "Half an hour ago, he returned home; having his clothes in his hands and crying his heart out. After he had calmed down, he told me how you treated him the same way you were treating your own boys, smiling at him, ruffling his hair, and allowing him to join your own boys to have a rest on your waterbed. Then you started to romp with your boys, and Davey nearly fainted. His own father never romped with him, but always tried to touch him improperly and play with his privates...
    "He was very amazed that you didn't do anything improper to your boys; but you dozed off, having both boys lying on your stomach and even cuddling each other... That's when Davey suddenly realized how a REAL father could be...
    "I didn't understand everything he told me, but I think they were taking a shower because they were sweaty. He really enjoyed playing a water game with your boys; until, all of a sudden, you appeared in the doorway. That reminded him of his own father, who always unexpectedly entered the shower when he was in there, and tried to abuse him...
    "Davey panicked, grabbed his clothes, and ran away. Now he is desperate, as he thinks you are mad at him for leaving your house without saying goodbye... Your boys tried to convince him that you really aren't mad at him, but he's still afraid. I hope I am not imposing too much, but my poor abused boy NEEDS a real daddy in his life, and I am not planning to remarry..."

    Her eyes stared into space, and I could feel her pain and her desperation...
I brewed us a fresh cup of coffee, to break the built-up tension.
Mary dried her eyes; and we sipped our coffee in silence, both of us being deep in thought.
After a while, we went to the living room to look after our boys.

    All three of them were sitting in front of my computer, playing an adventure game.
Little Harry's eyes beamed when he saw me, and a broad smile entered his face.
John looked at me with pure love in his eyes; he hinted at Davey, and nodded...
Davey looked at me with sudden fear in his eyes, and he cringed a bit. This time he didn't look away, and again I saw a deep longing in his eyes...
    I winked at him and smiled, and he relaxed a bit.

    "Hi boys, are you enjoying the game? Who wants a cola?"

    Two hands went up immediately, after a moment followed by a hesitating third one.

    "Davey, would you mind helping me with the colas?" I asked him.

    Davey's face changed into a shocked expression. He followed me to the kitchen, hesitating, unsure, and keeping a safe distance...

    "Please, could you get the cola from the refrigerator and pour yourself and the boys a glass? There's a tray on the cupboard."

    Relief poured from his face, and his deep brown eyes started to shine.
He filled three glasses with cola and put them onto the tray, while I brewed Mary and myself another cup of coffee.
Together, we returned to the living room; and, this time, he didn't try to avoid our bodily contact...
Our shoulders touched in the doorway, and I thought something electrical exchanged between us.

    "Thank you, my friend. You are a great help! I don't know how I should have carried all those packages upstairs without you!" I told him.
    "Now, could you get us some cookies from the cupboard on the left?"

    This time, he definitely looked proud and hurried back to the kitchen.
John and little Harry approached me, both of them leaning against me:

    "Dad? There are still two computer desks to put together... Maybe Davey could help us tonight?"

    Davey started to beam; and his mother immediately nodded her consent.
I sent my precious and lovable boys my love, and both of them smiled and put their arms around my waist.

    "Mary, would you like to have dinner with us tonight?" I invited her...

    "No, thank you. Another time will be fine, but tonight I have something else to do. Could you send Davey home around nine o'clock?"

    We promised to take good care of him, said our goodbyes, and Mary went home.

    My three boys returned to their adventure game, throwing their arms around each other.
I asked them to be silent for a moment, and phoned the number from Peter's card.
A nurse put me through to one of the surgeons, and I asked him a couple of questions about little Harry's burnt face and body.
He answered them carefully, and thought he would be able to help the boy at least to a certain degree, but he had to see him first before making any promises...
After a while, he put me back to the nurse; and I set an appointment for little Harry and me to visit the clinic the day after tomorrow.

    "YESSS!" little Harry shouted, jumping up and nearly overturning his chair,
    "I am getting my new face! Thank you, Dad, thank you so much! I love you!"

    He jumped into my arms and nearly started to cry from enthusiasm.
I held him close, and tenderly kissed his little distorted nose and his colored forehead.
From the corners of my eyes, I saw Davey, longingly looking at us and getting tears in his eyes...
I beckoned him over to join our cuddle; and he shuffled towards us, albeit very hesitantly...

    I freed one arm and put it around his waist; but his body stiffened and I saw some fear in his eyes.
Clearly, I had to be very patient with this so damaged boy, who had only known a grown-up who always tried to abuse him...
He didn't withdraw from my arm, and I saw that as a hopeful sign.
I tried to send him as much love as I could muster, and felt his tension slowly subside.

    John stepped behind Davey, opened his arms, and tenderly pushed the so frightened boy into me.
What a thoughtful boy! I started to love my precious friend more and more.
Within a few seconds, Davey let himself go and melted into us. He started to sob and sucked our love and our warmth in like a sponge.
John put his arms around all of us, and all of our combined warmth and love melted into Davey.

    We held each other close for a long time, unwilling to break the contact.
At last, little Harry started to fidget and jump up and down:

    "I have to go now, because I'm nearly peeing my pants!"

    "Where are your diapers?" John teased him.

    "You are no fun!" he groaned and rushed away, looking worried and clamping his boyhood with both hands.

    All of us started to laugh; even our new friend Davey.

    In unison, we decided to have macaroni with tomatoes and cheese for dinner.
Little Harry cooked the macaroni, John sliced the onions, Davey sliced the tomatoes, and I sliced the cheese into pieces.
Little Harry went to his own herbs garden in the backyard, followed by a curious Davey.
They returned, carrying some of his famous herbs. Little Harry washed them carefully and cut them into small pieces.
He baked the sliced onions and mingled them together with his herbs, the tomatoes, the macaroni, and finally the cheese and some more spices.
Now a wonderful aroma started to fill the kitchen, making our stomachs grumble aloud.
John got the plates from the cupboards, and Davey scooped the readied macaroni onto the plates.
Little Harry handed the filled plates around the table, and all of us took a seat and started to savor the meal.

    The macaroni was very tasty; albeit, to my personal taste, John had sliced too many onions...
However, the boys loved it! They licked their fingers and scraped the pan for more.
We finished our meal with cups of ice, topped with maple syrup and whipped cream.

    John and little Harry washed the dishes; while Davey cleaned the kitchen table and put everything away, instructed by little Harry and me.
I brewed myself a cup of coffee, and the boys poured themselves three colas and took them to the living room.
We sat down on our couch; and little Harry claimed his place on my lap, melting into me.
John nestled onto my left side; and Davey sat down on my right side, keeping a small distance and furtively stealing glances...
I felt his longing, but decided to do nothing and give him some more time...

    We had some small talk and sipped our colas and coffee.
Davey started to tell us about a couple of difficult tricks he had taught himself while skating. He promised his friends to teach them the next time.
Both John and little Harry were enthusiastic, and tried to persuade me to partake by borrowing Thomas' old skateboard...
I started to tell them about no longer being young and having rusty joints and aged muscles.
They laughed at my complaints, and told me I was not THAT old, I was the best Dad in the world; and, now and then, I still behaved as if I were a little boy myself...

    Suddenly, I felt a contact...
Very slowly, nearly imperceptibly, Davey slid nearer and nearer; until, finally, his head rested onto my shoulder.
I heard him heave a deep sigh of content, and felt him sliding more nearby.
Carefully, so as not to intimidate him, I folded my right arm around his shoulder...
This time, his body didn't stiffen; but he slid even nearer and melted into my right side.
Never before had I felt so grateful!
My third boy had found his place in my life...

    After a while, we decided to put little Harry's new computer desk together.
The remainder of the evening we were studying drawings, comparing the lengths of the different screws, and trying to decipher what exactly the makers of this complicated puzzle had in mind.
Slowly, the puzzle started to look like a real computer desk; and, just before nine o'clock, little Harry's desk was ready.
Little Harry beamed; and, in absence of a chair, proudly sat down on top of his new desk, waving at his subjects like a real prince.

    "Now you are really looking like Prince Harold Romani..." John chuckled.

    His remark caused little Prince Harry to send him a dead look...

    Davey had to go home and started to don his shoes.
Suddenly, he threw his arms around my neck and told me with beaming eyes:

    "Thank you, and I LOVED being here with you and with my friends. May I come back tomorrow?"

    "You may come back any time you wish. You are always welcome in our humble home."

    Davey got tears in his eyes and murmured:

    "I wish YOU were my Dad..."

    We decided to accompany Davey to his house.
The evening felt nice, and all of us enjoyed the cool breeze and the beautiful sight of many bright stars over our heads.
Mary, Davey's mother, thanked us for looking after her son, and sent Davey upstairs to have some sleep.
We went back home to try to puzzle John's computer desk together.
Fortunately, we learned quite a lot from the first puzzle, and the second desk seemed easier to build...
Dead tired, but feeling happy, we showered and went to bed.

    I slept soundly and peacefully, lying on my back, having my two softly snoring boys in my arms.
One time, I woke up and saw the by now well-known bright light, seemingly coming from everywhere...
    Jack's face showed up, this time with a serious expression:

    "Don't be afraid. There will be a difficult time; but you will come through, and finally there will be victory!"

    Slowly, the light faded away, leaving me puzzled for a long time...
What did Jack mean by 'a difficult time'?



Thank you for reading the next chapter of my emotional rollercoaster 'Born to be a King'.
Enjoy the reading, and help us make our world to be a better place!

Have a look at my OTHER story, about the same little Gypsy boy growing up in a secluded place in the Rumanian mountains; this time seen from his own point of view. You may click this link.
The other story is on Nifty in 'young-friends', and is callled: 'Born as a Prince'...

All my stories are on my own homepage as well: http://www.harryanders.com

I would LOVE to receive your comments.
Please, write me an email now and then...
Harry AnderS, Dutch psychotherapist and alternative writer.