- 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 6 ended with:

    "Harry is bleeding!" Chrissy told me, looking a bit worried.

    I looked him over carefully...
Everything seemed to be all right, except for a small flesh wound on his knee and a big dent in his self-esteem...
John rushed inside; and soon returned with a wet cloth, a bottle of iodine, and a band-aid.
He cleaned little Harry's knee carefully, put a drop of iodine into the wound, which caused a sharp intake of breath, and administered the band-aid like a professional.
I took my clean handkerchief out of my pocket, and carefully dried little Harry's eyes.
    Suddenly, he jumped up, and grinned at his friends:

    "You really GOT him, and he was a BIG boy too! Wow, thank you! Now I owe you one..."

 

Chapter 7. Moving Harry's stuff to our house; and he is an excellent cook.

    Mark and Marrie showed up in our driveway, proudly showing off their new clothes.
They turned around a few times to let us have a better look, and told us:

    "Mom asks all of you to come over and help us with moving Harry's stuff to his old room."

    "Is Dad back home already?" John asked them, with some hesitancy...

    "Not yet," Marrie answered with a frown,
    "And I hope he will NEVER come back! We are better off without him!"

    She looked at little Harry, and kneeled down:

    "What's that band-aid on your knee? Are you wounded?"

    "Nah, I was kicked off Mark's skateboard by that big boy that always shouts at me. But John hit him with his skateboard, Thomas kicked his nuts, and Chrissy punched his nose!"

    "Wow! You really did that?"

    "Yeah..."

    "Wow!"

    In procession, we went to John's house, to get little Harry's belongings.

    Trudy greeted us, looking sad and trying to hide her puffy eyes.
She offered us a cup of tea and a small pastry.
Everybody sat down, sipping their tea and nibbling the pastries.
    After a while, Marrie told her mother:

    "Harry had a fight; and now he has a wounded knee..."

    Of course, the children were eager to tell her everything about their big fight!
Naturally, they also were bragging a bit about their own part in it...
Little Harry proudly showed her his band-aid, and assured her it had not been his fault!
That stupid Jason didn't look out; and he simply couldn't avoid the resulting collision...
    Trudy looked at him with sudden pride and amazement in her eyes:

    "You were playing in the streets with the others, just like that?"

    "Yes, why not? I've decided to be proud of myself, as Jack always taught me. Words and looks can't harm me, as long as I don't care..."

    "Wow! You've really changed your mind since yesterday! I'm very proud of you!"

    Little Harry beamed, and looked at us with a big grin on his face.
He beckoned the others, and together they went upstairs to collect his belongings.
Soon, they reappeared, carrying some cardboard boxes and a couple of plastic bags.

    Little Harry threw his arms around my waist, and grinned:

    "Can I have your keys, please, to open our front door? I don't want to call our locksmith, to break open the backdoor..."

    What a clever boy!
I grinned at his hidden joke, and offered him my keys.
In rank, they marched off to his new old room, carrying the boxes and bags.
Little Harry walked up front, leading the way and proudly carrying my keys.

    Trudy stared at me, showing something like reverence in her eyes:

    "You surely have a healthy impact on that boy! I can't believe my own eyes... Is this the same worried little Gypsy boy, who didn't dare to leave the house via the front door?"

    "I'm not sure whether it is my impact or not, but I'm rather surprised myself! Suddenly, he wanted to accompany us into a shop, just like that..."

    "I am sure your influence does have something to do with it! That boy adores you, and John thinks the world of you...
    "Another thing is, we have temporarily stored Harry's old desk in the garage. Maybe you could have a look at it, before carrying it to his room?"

    Together, we went to the garage, to have a look at little Harry's old desk.
The thing looked very cast off and rickety, so I decided to dump it and buy him a new one...
We went back to the living room, and Trudy offered me another cup of tea.

    I decided to ask her a couple of questions about my new little tenant:

    "I don't know anything about Harry. Could you tell me some more about him? Where does he come from? Does he have any known relatives?"

    "Unfortunately, we don't know very much about him. Everything was burnt in that caravan, and the police officers couldn't find any papers, or even residues...
    "Harry was only six years old, and he was in a shock, so he hardly knew his last name and date of birth. His last name sounded foreign, something like 'Romani'; and we thought he didn't even pronounce it right, with his burnt face and his distorted lips...
    "The authorities tried to track down where his parents came from; but, so far, everything has been in vain. Nobody seems to recognize them or to know anything about them. The only things we know for sure, are that he probably is a half-breed Gypsy boy, and he didn't speak our language when Jack found him.
    "Harry himself keeps telling us that he used to live somewhere in the mountains and that his day of birth is March the third. However, that's all he's remembering from his past, up to now. His doctors explained that the horrible pain from his burnings may have wiped out his memories, and it will take some time for them to come back..."

    "Well, that doesn't give us much information! Now I have another question for you. Does Harry attend a special school, and when will his vacation end?"

    "The first year after the fire, Harry spent most of his time at the hospital. He had major surgery three more times, so he never went to school. Fortunately, Jack happened to have a certificate in tutoring, so Harry was officially allowed to take home lessons for a couple of hours every day. They were even paying Jack for it.
    "After Jack's sudden death, we talked about Harry's future, and we decided to try to let him attend a normal school from now on. His school will start five weeks from now..."

    "Okay, thank you for this information. Another thing is, John told me that Harry has to revisit a hospital within a week. Is that correct?"

    "Jack seems to have set an appointment for him, to give him a slightly better nose and lips. I'll let you have the address and phone number, so that you may call them yourself."

    "Thank you. I think I'll phone them tomorrow, and ask them what they have planned..."

    Trudy went to a drawer, and handed me the address and phone number.
She looked a bit pensive, and suddenly asked me:

    "Now I want to ask YOU a question, about yourself. John told me you have been married; and you're having two grown-up daughters?"

    "Yes, that's right," I confirmed, being a bit surprised...

    "Jack wasn't allowed to adopt Harry, because he had never been married. However, you have had a wife, and you are even having two children...
    "That means that you just might be able to adopt him! Please think it over, and I will be pleased to recommend you to the authorities, in case you would decide to be his Dad..."

    Suddenly, the children reentered the house, obviously having lots of fun.
They dashed into the living room, giggling and pushing each other as usual:

    "Everything is stowed away in Harry's room, except for his old desk."

    I ruffled little Harry's hair, meanwhile telling the children:

    "I've looked at Harry's old desk, and it seems to be rather rickety. Now, I thought about buying him a present..."

    Little Harry's eyes started to sparkle, and he threw his arms around my waist:

    "Really? Yesss! Could you buy me a computer-desk this time, with a sliding thing in the middle?"

    "Let's look for one, after we have visited Peter's shop. First, we will get your new mask, and then we'll look for a new desk. Okay?"

    "Okay, marvelous! I LOVE you!"

    "New mask? What are you talking about?" Trudy asked, with a puzzled look on her face...

    We sat down; and I started to tell her, and the other children, everything about our adventures.
They shrieked with laughter at the story of the old witch who had tried to attack little Harry...
They shivered at the thought of making a mold of your face and sticking straws into your nostrils...
They were angry with the girls who called little Harry a 'freak who had landed onto the wrong planet'...
They reacted with curiosity about Christian's pending visit, and the so-called contact with our 'spirit guide'...
What was that medium going to tell us? Would we see ghosts? Would it be creepy?

    I assured them that nothing spooky would happen, and Christian wasn't playing in a creepy film...
They weren't really convinced, and advised us to eat at least a couple of garlic cloves each, to keep off the bad spirits...
Now all of us were chuckling at the thought of a stinking house, all evening reeking of garlic and incense.

    John looked at his mother, with a pleading look and his best puppy dog eyes:

    "Mom, may I join Big Harry and little Harry this evening? Little Harry is cooking a salmon, and I'm allowed to help him..."

    "That's okay, but I want to see you back before eight o'clock. You have to do some chores too, you know."

    "Thanks, Mom! You are the best."

    John jumped up and took my left hand, while little Harry too my right.
Together, they dragged me out of the house in a sudden hurry, eager to start their cooking...

 

    That evening, little Harry and John didn't allow me to enter my own kitchen.
I had to be patient for at least half an hour, while they were working on our meal.
Faking a bit of anger and mock moping, I took a cold beer to the porch and counted the minutes...

    Inside the house, the boys were rattling the pans and deliberating about the cooking.
It was clear that little Harry did all the talking, and John was only agreeing...
Twice, little Harry appeared in the backyard with a big grin on his face, to gather some more herbs.

    After half an hour, a wonderful smell started to fill the air, making my stomach rumble aloud.
Two proudly beaming boys appeared on the porch, and invited me into my house.
We went straight to the living room, where I looked around open-mouthed...

    The boys had put the dinner table in the middle of the room, neatly draped with a white tablecloth.
They had set ready three china plates and silver cutlery in front of three chairs.
Seven little candles flamed joyfully, one candle in each corner of the table, and one extra with each plate.
Two covered dishes waited in the center, and soft music from my CD-player sounded in the background...

    "Wow!" I exclaimed, looking around and feeling very impressed,
    "I'm feeling like a King this evening! What are you doing to me?"

    Both boys beamed, and John politely guided me to my chair.
I sat down, and John opened one of the dishes and started to ladle out the soup.
I smiled at the funny sight of little Harry, tiptoeing to have his face over the table surface, giving directions to John...
I didn't know what they had put in it, but the soup tasted more than delicious!
I scraped my plate for the last drops, and licked my spoon...

    They took the empty dish and the used plates to the kitchen, and returned carrying clean plates.
They went to the kitchen again...
Now, John entered the room, carrying a steaming platter, filled with mashed potato and decorated with appetizing vegetables.
Little Harry followed him, carrying a platter with a tasty looking and even more tasty smelling salmon, decorated with a couple of herbs.
They sat down, and motioned me to be first...
Carefully, I added some of the mashed potato, a few vegetables, and a piece of the salmon to my plate.
The second dish turned out to be filled with tasty fried potatoes, and I took a couple of them as well.

    Never before had I been eating so much, and everything tasted marvelous!
Little Harry turned out to be a very talented cook, in spite of his young age.
John only assisted him; and little Harry was giving all the directions, as befits a real cook.
We didn't utter a word, as we were too busy eating and savoring...

    After the meal, three small homemade sorbets filled the last empty holes, and now we were stuffed to the brim.

    "Wow!" I exclaimed, heaving a deep sigh and rubbing my stomach,
    "Never before did I enjoy a dinner so much! You are an excellent cook, and I think you are going to make a good living out of it."

    "I'm sure I will NOT become a cook!" little Harry answered, looking at me with a frown.
    "I love cooking, and I think I will always love it; but, when I am old enough, I'm going to help other people with their problems...
    "That medium, Christian, told us the same thing this afternoon, and I am pretty sure he's right. Inside my heart, I can feel I have sort of a task to fulfill in my life...
    "Only, I don’t know what my task is. Inwardly, I can sense it has something to do with being sort of a leader..."

    Little Harry was silent for a long time, staring into space...
Slowly, his eyes filled with tears, and he started to sob:

    "Why don't I remember who I am? I am sure a lot of people are loving me, but I can't remember their faces...
    "The only things I'm remembering are huge mountains, with their snow clad tops glowing in the sunlight. I know there has to be a waterfall, and I think I'm very good at setting traps...
    "Vaguely, I remember my Dad, having a dark face and an enormous mustache; and I'm sure I'm looking like my Mom, with her blue eyes..."

    He started to cry, and I took him to the couch and sat him onto my lap.
Slowly, I cradled him, while John whispered encouraging words into his ear.
Again, John was a real big brother to him, trying to cheer him up, and telling him that now he had sort of a new Dad...
Little Harry cried some more; until, at last, his sobs subsided and he started to look around again.
I dried his eyes, using the load of tissues John helpfully offered us...
Finally, he went to the toilet, and then washed his face in the kitchen sink.

    He dried his face, looked a bit bashfully, and started to grin:

    "I am such a crybaby... Come on, John; let's wash the dishes and the cutlery."

    Together, they disappeared into the kitchen; and soon they started to have fun again.

    I cleaned the table, and stowed away the tablecloth and the remainders of the meal.
The boys rearranged the living room, while I brewed myself a cup of coffee and poured two glasses of cola.
We sat down on the couch, next to each other, sipping our drinks and enjoying each other's company.
Both little Harry and John leaned into me; having some small talk and wondering about Christian's pending visit.

    Time went by; and, a few minutes before eight o'clock, John had to go home:

    "See you tomorrow, and I want you to tell me everything about that medium and what he told you!"

    He offered both of us a big hug, and went home.
Now, we had to wait for our 'psychic medium', Christian...

    Unnoticed, the atmosphere in the room started to change.
Little Harry stretched out on the couch, with his arms alongside his body and his head lying on my lap.
I draped an arm around my little buddy, tenderly tickling his stomach with one hand, and softly stroking his hair with the other.
A couple of times, he heaved a sigh of utmost content, showing a peaceful smile on his face.
It felt as if I had been doing this with my boy many, many times before...

    Gradually, the room went more and more silent, as if all sounds were damped.
Everything started to feel peaceful, making both of us feeling totally at ease.
Now and then, I thought I noticed the subtle fragrance of flowers in the air.
In my fantasy, we were surrounded by a huge cathedral, and I could almost hear a celestial chorus singing in the background...
I savored the wonderful feelings, even though I was not a religious person and didn't believe in a 'supreme being'.

    Slowly, both of us drifted into a nice and peaceful slumber...

 

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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