- Harry AnderS -
Dutch psychotherapist and alternative writer
'Born to be a King'
- by Harry AnderS -
An inspirational fantasy
http://www.harryanders.com
harry@harryanders.com
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 16 ended with:
The officers wrote our answers down, and promised to look out for the little boy.
We had to sign several papers; and they promised to call us as soon as they had any news about the lost child.
They advised us to go home, stop worrying, and wait for the next day.
Most lost children were showing up, voluntarily and unharmed, within twenty-four hours...
Did the boy know our telephone number by heart?
Of course he did!
They opened the door, shook hands, and we left the police station.
What now?
We returned to our car in silence, got in, and drove off...
Chapter 17. My little soul mate, lost and found; and curiosity killed the cat.
We were dead silent on our way home...
John and Davey stared out of the windows; and I had tears in my eyes all the time.
Where was my little soul mate? For heaven's sake, what had happened to him?
Where was that ghost, Jack, now we so badly needed him?
I tried to call him in my mind:
"Jack... JACK... where are you, now we need your help?"
Nobody answered, and I started to be angry with our 'spirit guide'.
Didn't he once promise to look after my little soul mate and me?
Obviously, everything had been a big mistake, a strange twist of my mind...
Dead was dead, and ghosts simply didn't exist. Point, out!
I tried to put him out of my mind.
On our way home, we saw a small eating facility, and I bought us some fish and chips.
After a few bites, we opened the windows and threw them away...
How could we be hungry, while at the same time our little Gypsy friend could be in despair?
Would he be hungry? Had somebody kidnapped him?
We entered our village, and took Davey home.
He started to protest, but understood that his mother expected him to be home at nine o'clock...
Mary invited us in; but we refused politely. We promised to pay her a visit the next day and tell her everything.
We wanted to be home, in case little Harry showed up or somebody phoned us...
Davey looked a bit disappointed, but we told him he would be welcome the next day.
He waved at us until our car disappeared around the corner...
I parked the car in our driveway, got out, and John snatched the keys out of my hand.
He bolted into the house and raced to our answering machine in the living room...
Alas, the little red light wasn't blinking, indicating nobody had called.
John even checked our phone, to be sure everything was working...
We slumped down onto our couch, and put our arms around each other.
We sat together for a long time, consoling each other and now and then wiping each other's eyes with a tissue.
At last, we started to guess what could have happened to our little friend...
Had anybody kidnapped him, knowing I had some money to spend? Would they call us for a ransom?
However, how did they know we were at the zoo?
Did he really get lost while looking for a hiding place, or maybe he went too far and couldn't find us any more?
John thought that would be impossible, as little Harry seemed to know his way always and everywhere. He seemed to have sort of a sixth sense...
Did he get sick, or bump his head and lose consciousness?
That could be a possibility... but why didn't the security guards find him?
What about his mask? Would he still wear it? It started to itch after a couple of hours...
I closed my eyes, and slowly drifted off while John leaned into me...
Suddenly, my heart almost stopped, and I jumped up from the sudden shock:
"DAD! I am ABSOLUTELY sure that Harry is still alive!"
"Huh?.... What?... Sorry... you've startled me! What happened? How can you be so sure?"
"I could feel Harry, and he is alive! I think he is sleeping now. He is in a very dark room, and the door is closed. However, I can't see where that room is, or who put him there. He has cried a lot, and now he is dead tired and fell asleep. But he is alive, and he is okay."
"How do you know? Did Jack tell you all this?"
"No, I don't think that Jack is around; but I tried to reach out for Harry in my mind. Suddenly, he showed up and I contacted him..."
"Are you really sure it was Harry, or did you make this up in your mind?"
"I am absolutely sure, Dad, but don't ask me how. It just happened..."
"Do you know where Jack is; now we need him? Once, he promised to help us..."
Suddenly, I heard Jack's voice in my head, loud and clear, sounding a bit annoyed:
"Don't worry so much, and go to bed. Both of you will need your sleep!"
"Wow, did you hear that, Dad? Jack tells us not to worry so much and go to bed because we will need our sleep!"
To say I was flabbergasted, wasn't strong enough to express the turmoil I was in now...
Even John seemed to be able to hear Jack's voice...
Then, everything about that ghost had to be true...
But... why didn't he HELP us?
I tried to contact Jack again, and even thought I felt him around, but he remained silent...
Did he have a reason for that? What could his reason be?
Or, had he lost little Harry too, and didn't know where our little Gypsy boy was...
Was that possible, for a ghost?
We went upstairs, took a quick shower, and crawled under the blankets.
John draped himself all over me, heaving a couple of deep sighs.
Both of us were dead tired, closed our eyes, and fell asleep almost immediately...
"DAD! Wake up! The telephone is ringing! Come on! Hurry up! You have to answer it!"
John shook me, forcefully, and nearly dragged me out of bed.
Sleep charged and feeling dizzy, I squinted around:
"What time is it?"
"It's nearly four o'clock, but the telephone is ringing! Come on, hurry!"
I staggered downstairs, and hurried to the still ringing phone in the living room.
"Hello?" I told the receiver, desperately trying to dispel my sleepy cobwebs...
"...DADDY!!!... Why didn't you answer the phone? I was afraid you weren't home... I am so sorry! Are you mad at me now, for getting lost? I couldn't help it, really! It hasn't been my fault...
"I climbed a fence and went into a barn, and the door slammed shut, and I couldn't open it because it was locked, and I started to pound the door but nobody heard me, and I screamed and yelled, and it was dark, and everything was so creepy, and I was so terrified, and I thought they would never find me and I would die and eventually they would find my bare bones..."
Little Harry nearly started to hyperventilate, stumbling over his own words...
After a moment, a grinning man took over.
He told me he was one of the night guards at the zoo, and walked his rounds every two hours.
Ten minutes ago, he thought he heard somebody pounding a door, somewhere in the darkness...
He looked for where the strange sound came from, and found a small stock barn behind a fence, where a little boy seemed to have locked himself in.
He had to return to the office first, to collect the key. Five minutes later, he freed the little boy, but nearly fainted at the look of such a devastated face!
However, the little fellow assured him his face had been burnt two years ago, and there was no need to panic and call for an ambulance...
Now, the little boy was drinking hot chocolate in the zoo's office; and, please, could I come over and collect my son?
"I'm on my way! Please, wait for me, and don't go anywhere!"
John and I looked at each other, cheered, threw our arms around each other, and danced around the room.
Still grinning, we hurried upstairs, donned our clothes, left our house, and raced to our car.
Two seconds later, I hurried back to the backdoor, found the hidden key, and entered the house to get my own keys from the kitchen table.
I needed them to drive the car...
Grinning, I remembered little Harry's remark from that first evening:
"You seem to be just as dumb an ass as Jack was!"
I started our car and raced away, trying not to hit too many lampposts...
John stretched out in the front seat next to me, yawned, and fell asleep.
I could barely keep my own eyes open, and had to rub them from time to time.
The streets were deserted and the darkness looked spooky, only illuminated now and then by the bright headlights of an approaching car...
I switched our car stereo on and looked for some cheerful music, to stay awake.
Suddenly, our crazy song popped up:
"You are soooo beauuuutifuuuullll..."
I grinned, and thought this had to be a positive omen...
Suddenly, I felt Jack around, grinning and cheerfully humming with the music:
"Please, beautiful, keep your eyes on the road! I know you are driving your car and it's in the middle of the night; therefore, I will try to keep you awake this time...
"I wasn't allowed to help you, because all of you needed this experience. Your son had to overcome his fears, to be a better King in the future. You had to be even more aware of your responsibilities, to be able to guide him safely through his boyhood. My own son had to wake up, to be fully aware of his capabilities as a leader. The other boy had to be welcomed into your company, to feel safer in his life and learn to trust grown-ups. Soon, there will be a fourth boy in your life, and this little man will bring you a lot of joy...
"Now go collect your little soul mate, and tomorrow the clinic will help him to grow a new skin on his scars. God bless you all; and your spirit friends will be with you and guide you..."
Jack's voice faded away, again cheerfully humming with the music.
Was this for real? I could hardly have made up all those words in my own mind...
Why was I still in doubt, and afraid of having made up that voice myself?
Fortunately, my sleepiness was gone, making the driving a bit safer.
I parked our car in the darkness of a desolate zoo parking lot, looking spooky and surrealistically silent.
John woke up from the sudden silence, and yawned a couple of times.
Together, we left our car and went to the closed gateway...
However, where should we enter the zoo?
The gate was locked with a big padlock, and all the lights were off...
Did they have a doorbell?
Fortunately, John detected a small push button next to the gate, and pressed it.
In a far distance, we heard the faint sound of a buzzer...
A minute later, a guard appeared, at a small distance followed by a very timid-looking little Harry without his mask.
The guard opened the gate and let us in.
He beckoned us to follow him...
Little Harry seemed to avoid us, looking unsure and shy...
John tried to approach him, but he looked away and hid behind the security guard.
I didn't know what was happening, but decided to let him have his own space.
Maybe, he was afraid of bursting into tears, in sight of the security guard...
John shrugged his shoulders and returned to me, looking rejected.
The guard guided us to a small office, where we were welcomed by the smell of fresh coffee.
Little Harry got a second cup of hot chocolate, and John politely asked for some milk because he didn't like chocolate very much...
Suddenly, little Harry threw himself onto my lap, sobbing loudly:
"Are you very mad with me, daddy? I'm so sorry, and I didn't do it on purpose..."
Still sobbing, he told us what had happened:
The boys were playing hide and seek at the back of the labyrinth, and he was looking for a better hiding place.
He went a bit further, peeked through an overgrown fence, and saw a small barn with an open door...
He was curious about what would be in it, wormed through the fence, looked into the barn, and saw some equipment and a huge pile of food bags...
He entered the barn, and curiously looked at the pile of bags to see what was in them...
Suddenly, the door closed with a loud click, and he was trapped in the darkness!
At first, he wasn't afraid at all, grinned, and fumbled around until he found the door.
He tried to open it, but it seemed to be locked from the outside...
Still grinning, he started to pound the door, expecting to be freed in no time.
Now and then, he listened to the sounds outside, but nobody showed up...
Again, he pounded the door, but this time his hands started to be sore.
Slowly, he started to panic... Where were John and Davey? Didn't they miss him?
When would they show up and rescue him?
He yelled and kicked the door for a long time, but nobody showed up to rescue him.
In a distance, he heard the sounds of many playing children, but nobody seemed to hear him...
At last, he was too tired and slumped down onto a food bag, with his head in his hands.
Where were Dad, and John, and Davey? Didn't we miss him?
Maybe, we would be happy to be rid of him, with his creepy face and his so scarred body...
He broke down at the frightening thought, and started to cry.
After what felt like an eternity, the sounds of playing children diminished; and, at last, everything was silent...
Again, he panicked, yelled at the tops of his lungs, and pounded and kicked the door and the walls.
Nobody showed up, and he was afraid he would be locked up in this barn until, one day, they would find his bare bones...
His mask started to itch, so he peeled it off and put it into one of his pockets.
Again, he cried and cried, until he was too exhausted and fell asleep on one of the bags...
He woke up, and everything around was dead silent and spooky.
At first, he started to cry again.
Then, he decided to pull himself together and use his brains to get out of this prison.
He fumbled around in the darkness until he found some tools, and tried to force the door.
Unfortunately, his young muscles weren't strong enough to break through the lock...
Suddenly, he thought he heard somebody outside...
He started to yell and pound the door again, until a voice outside told him to be silent and wait for the key.
Finally he could relax!
Five minutes later, the door finally opened, and he was FREE!
A security guard aimed at him with a flashlight, and nearly fainted at seeing his damaged face...
The now very pale looking man wanted to call an ambulance, to take him to a hospital immediately!
After he reassured the trembling man, and told him about the fire two years ago, the scared guy calmed down.
They went to an office, where the guard offered him one of his own sandwiches and a mug of hot chocolate.
The nice man took him to a telephone cell, where he tried to call John and me out of our bed.
Finally, we woke up; and I answered the phone, grumbling and with a very sleepy voice...
Now we were here to collect him, and he was afraid I would yell at him and punish him, as Eric used to do with John after John had done something bad...
"Are you very mad at me, daddy? Please, don't yell at me..."
I pulled him closer, and nearly squashed him.
How could I EVER be mad at my so precious son, my soul mate, the light in my life...
"I will NEVER yell at you; unless it's absolutely necessary, for example to avoid a nasty accident...
"And, why do you think I will be MAD at you? Did you really do anything bad?"
"I don't know... Maybe I wasn't allowed to peek into that barn..."
"You are a child, aren't you? And, children are curious! They always want to discover our world. It's up to us, the grown-ups, to create a safe environment for our children to be able to do that...
"I think the zoo didn't create a safe enough environment, by allowing that barn door to be open. That certainly wasn't YOUR fault, and I am NOT mad at you...
"However, I was very afraid after we missed you, and we have been looking for you everywhere for several hours... I thought somebody had kidnapped you and I would never see you again..."
I broke down and started to sob, being dead tired and totally mellow from all the heavy emotions.
Immediately, little Harry threw his arms around my neck and whispered into my ear:
"Let it go, Dad, don't bottle it up. In a few minutes you will feel better..."
Suddenly, I started to laugh, and couldn't stop.
Did JACK teach him to use those words, every time when somebody started to cry?
The little monkey...
We thanked the security guard abundantly, and went home.
My two boys slept in the rear seat, totally entangled into each other's arms and legs.
I switched our car stereo on, and again our crazy song popped up:
"You are soooo beauuuutifuuuullll..."
I was happy again.
I had my boy back.
My little soul mate, lost and found...
An hour later, I parked our car in our driveway, and woke my boys up.
They disentangled from each other, yawned, and stretched out as far as they could.
We went inside and immediately upstairs to our bedroom, being totally exhausted.
Little Harry clung onto me like a frightened small child, and I never before saw John that protective and helpful!
Sleep came fast for all three of us, with little Harry lying on my stomach and John snuggled up to both of us as close as possible.
The sun, shining through a crack in the curtains, woke us up.
Little Harry yawned a couple of times, and octopushed himself onto my chest.
John tried to disappear into my side, having his arm protectively draped around little Harry and me.
He yawned too, and heaved a couple of deep sighs:
"I'm happy that Harry is home, Dad! I hope we will never have to go through anything like that again..."
Little Harry tilted his head, and looked at John with a mischievous smile:
"Maybe I was a bit stupid, but I DID win our game because you couldn't tag me!"
"You little monkey! They should have kept you there, in a cage, for the rest of your life!"
John threw our blankets aside, and mercilessly started to tickle little Harry.
The little monkey squealed, and desperately tried to get away:
"Dad, John is picking on me. Please, protect me from that antipoid. Rape!"
"It's an anthropoid, duffer. And now I will get you for real!"
Suddenly, our doorbell rang, letting its sound echoing through the house.
I should buy us a new bell with a less aggressive sound...
Little Harry froze, and planted his little nails into my bare skin:
"Nooooo....." he moaned, starting to tremble all over.
Obviously, he still remembered those nasty police officers...
John balled his fists and stumbled to the window, ready to attack all the officers in the world.
He looked outside, and rushed to the staircase:
"It's Davey..."
He hurried downstairs, while I tried to calm down my still trembling son.
Davey stormed upstairs, looked at little Harry, and threw himself at him with a howl of relief:
"You are back home, thank heaven! I was sooo afraid something bad had happened to you..."
Now, I had to calm down two sobbing boys, both of them trying to have the best place on my stomach.
John climbed next to us and tried to cover himself with the blankets, grumbling:
"Let's get a few hours extra, because we didn't get enough sleep last night."
"Dad, can I sleep with you for another hour or so?" Davey asked, not even waiting for an answer.
He tumbled off my chest, shucked his clothes, and threw them somewhere into the room.
He threw his arms around little Harry and me, while John embraced us from the other side.
Soon, all of us were asleep again, until the sunlight started to be too bright.
We showered, dressed, and went downstairs, now and then yawning from lack of sleep.
My three boys prepared a healthy breakfast, while I set the table and brewed my first cup of coffee.
During our meal, little Harry told Davey everything about his big adventure in the zoo.
Vividly, he narrated how he wormed through an overgrown fence and curiously peeked at some bags of food, stowed away in a small barn.
Suddenly, the door closed with a loud click, and he was trapped in total darkness.
He yelled and pounded the door for a long time, but nobody heard him...
Until, in the middle of the night, a night guard finally rescued him and offered him a sandwich and a mug of hot chocolate.
"Curiosity killed the cat..." Davey snickered, helping himself to another slice of toast with nicely smelling greenish scrambled eggs.
After the meal, the boys washed the dishes, while I cleaned the table.
Now, we had to prepare for our voyage to little Harry's skin transplant clinic...
Little Harry looked at me with an unhappy face and his hand in a back pocket of his trousers:
"Dad, will you help me with my mask? It's stuck in my pocket, and I can't get it out..."
I tried to get the sticky mask out of his pocket without doing too much damage...
Unfortunately, the rubber had glued itself to the fabric, and all my efforts were in vain.
Finally, little Harry had to step out of his trousers, and we immersed them in a bucket of warm water.
That helped. The water dissolved the glue, and the mask came out undamaged.
Little Harry had to get a pair of dry trousers from upstairs, and John helped him put on his mask.
He grinned a bit sheepishly, and asked me:
"Are we now going to my face doctors?"
"Face doctors? What do you mean? Oh... of course, now I understand. You mean the transplant surgeons. Yes, we will be on our way within half an hour."
Davey went home; having quite a story to tell.
He promised to be back after our visit to the clinic, to find out what the 'face doctors' had told little Harry.
We packed everything we needed, and brought it to our car.
John grinned, and looked at me with a naughty smile:
"Don't you forget your keys this time?"
"Don't you try to be too witty every time?"
I chuckled, ruffled his hair, and we went to our car and buckled up.
I started the engine, and we left our driveway and drove off.
We were on our way to little Harry's transplant clinic...
************************************************************************************************************
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.
harry@harryanders.com
http://www.harryanders.com
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