"Thoughts are power weapons!"

Eduardo sat the kitchen table, his face staring into the nothingness of the blank wall opposite. The spoon with corn flakes found its way mechanically to his mouth with an automatic swallowing to follow.  His mother stood at the sink, washing the breakfast dishes. His dad had already left the flat and shortly after he was off to school, his mum would have to leave too for her part time job. But for now he still remained there in silence, his body leaning over his breakfast bowl, the spoon rhythmically emptying its content.

“Are you finished?”

His mum had turned around from the sink, reaching out for the last dish to be washed while glancing at her wrist watch. She was in her late thirties, her dark curly hair tied back showing an oval face with equally dark eyes that now smiled at her young son. Eduardo had inherited the same hair, but his curls were still wild and allowed to be untamed. His eyes did not smile and his mother noticed it.

“Are you alright?” 

“Uhm”, came the reluctant reply. With the last scrape of the spoon he managed  to dislodge the remaining cornflakes that clung like limpets to the side of the small bowl. 

Going to school was no longer something that he enjoyed.  He hoped Peter would leave him alone today.  

 “Can I have your bowl please!” came the urge from his mother.

He handed it over, still staring into nothingness. His absent mindedness had not gone unnoticed. She worried about him at times. Not that she ever regretted having left her country. They had made a new life here, she, her husband and Eduardo. They wanted something better for their son. Eduardo was the only child. They felt they could not afford another one. They needed to establish a living, find jobs and a place of their own, that they could finance themselves.  Another child would have made that more difficult.  But now she could not help feeling that a sibling would have been good for Eduardo. He often was withdrawn and quiet. As a young child he occupied himself with his books, chatting away to the characters. On numerous occasions she had found him talking to his imaginary friends, especially when he felt unobserved. She was careful not disrupt this intimate relationship.  Indeed, she was glad that he had found a way of being happy. He was older now, but that loneliness did not seem to have left him.  She had hoped that he would bring a friend home or that the phone would ring for him to come out and play. When he was younger he had a little friend. They played together at the park or when the weather was not too good shrieked with joy hiding from each other at home. She also had enjoyed the company of the other mother. They lived in the neighbourhood but then moved and the contact got lost.

 It was her turn now to stare into nothingness, even though the window above the sink offered plenty of things to appreciate.

“Mum!”

Eduardo stood at the kitchen door, already in his coat with his school bag slung over one shoulder. A quizzical look on his face wondered why his mother stared out of the window instead of finishing the washing up.

“Oh dear. What is the time? I better get a move on.”  She let the bowl submerge into the warm soapy water before opening her arms towards Eduardo, wet droplets falling from her hands onto the kitchen floor.

Eduardo stepped into the embrace. It was a ritual that they never missed, but today he made sure to be well out of reach of those wet hands.  They gave each other a hug and savoured this gesture of closeness for a few seconds. Then she was his mother again and urged him to hurry or else he would be late. And the same applied to her. She also had to get work.

“Eeeee -  duuuuuu-  arrrrr-   doooooo!” Each syllable carried its own emphasis, loud and accentuated for everyone to hear in the school corridor. 

“What sort of a name is that?” Peter continued. 

He had joined Eduardo's class at the beginning of the year and immediately surrounded himself with a group of boys who admired his confidence and authority.

          Eduardo looked up at Peter’s squinted eyes and wry smile. Throwing his head back in a grand gesture Peter made his red brown hair fly in the same direction uncovering the dark round shape of a birthmark. He was fair skinned with freckles in his face, tall, broad in stature, in contrast to Eduardo's olive skin colour, the smaller body frame and his black, curly hair.   Peter stood there with his shoulders square on, hands in his trouser pockets, surrounded by the others, waiting for Eduardo to respond. 

What could he say? His eyes slowly became down cast.  It seemed safer to look at his feet. His shoulders hunched up and his hands started to fidget along the seam of his trousers. The silence between them grew heavy and brought first a paleness and then a redness to Eduardo's face. 

“Thought so!” Peter snorted, “Nothing to say. What a loser!” 

He turned around to his followers with a sneery triumphant smile. They started to move along the corridor.  One of the boys lingered, looking back at the lonely figure left standing behind, still rooted to the spot of the confrontation.

There had been challenges before, similar rejections and unkind words.  He tried to get used to Peter’s bullying but it did not work. 

The bell told him that the lesson was about to start. Reluctantly and with a heavy step he walked towards his classroom.

When Eduardo arrived home that afternoon his heart still carried the weight of the confrontation. His mother threw a cautious glance at her son sensing that something had happened at school. Again. She had learned not to push for information and let Eduardo be. She only knew too well what it meant not to be accepted. She had fallen in love with someone outside her family’s faith and from a different country and naïvely had thought for her husband to be accepted. He was not and then neither was she. Even after Eduardo had been born, the hearts of her parents might have softened but the rest of the village thought it wrong to bring up a child in a different faith. The couple did not want their child to grow up in a community that rejected them and decided to leave and find a new life and renewed happiness in another country. 

She  had spoken to the school about the bullying. They had promised to keep an eye on him. 

Eduardo went straight to his room and let himself flop onto the soft cover of his bed. It lend some warmth and comfort. He stared at the ceiling wondering when this would end. As his eyes drifted along the walls they came to rest on the bookshelf. He loved books and one in particular. His parents had read it to him many times on the long sea journey to this country. He had been too young to be allowed to go exploring on the ship and spent most of the time in their cabin. Of course they went on deck for fresh air and a short walk every day but his hand had been held firmly by either his father or his mother. He had loved the vibration of the ship’s engine making his feet tingle as they strolled along the metal deck. The smell of diesel always hung in the air and was only dispersed when the wind threw a strong cold gust across the ship, tussling his hair and making him shiver in his thin jumper. He loved watching the vessel plough through the endless dark waves creating a trail of white foam. They rose up into the air like large whales and then  folded over into themselves to disappear into the black watery depth below. Eduardo could be staring at this spectacle forever, wondering whether there were monsters waiting underneath the surface devouring all those creamy bubbles that trailed behind, like he devoured the cream on top of his pudding, not that such puddings happened very often. 

That had been his world for those few weeks with little else to see. Instead, books and its characters became steady companioins. The reading also brought the safety and security of his parents’ arms around him. He felt happy and content in their embrace. And the same comfort and protection seemed to have been taken on by the books themselves and carried forward. He always felt happy and safe when reading.  

And there was this special book.

He got up from the bed and fetched it from the shelf. Retreating to the warmth of the bed spread he opened its cover.

There stood the knight in his shining armour, his sword on one side and the shield on the other, and above him hovered his loyal companion,Hoot Hoot. That was the name Eduardo had given the owl and the knight was called Arthur.  Eduardo knew their story well. The knight travelled the land and fought all that was bad with the particular aim to defeat a certain dragon who caused harm to the people. The owl was his companion and helper. Not only could Hoot Hoot see at night, its flight was absolutely silent, so that its scouting for Arthur could never be detected.  If only Eduardo could be like either of them. Strong and unafraid, and also going unnoticed so that he could not be picked on.

He sighed.

Propping himself up against the headboard with a pillow behind his head, he looked down on to the page and felt that warmth returning, as well as the protection and love from the arms of his parents. He started to relax and let the comfort of the bed spread pull him into its folds. As his body let go of all the tension from that day so did his mind and soon his thoughts started to quieten and drift.

. 

 The knight stood sideways on the page, his face turned towards the unseen destiny of his journey.  Suddenly he swivelled around looking up at Eduardo with quizzical eyes. A smile danced around his lips as they opened,“ But you can be just like me Eduardo; you do have a shield as well and it is a strong shield.”

Eduardo remained silent. 

“I know what you are thinking”, the knight continued. “Thinking is good. Your thoughts are your power weapon. Remember that, and stop frowning Eduardo. Trust me. Here is what you do. Use your thoughts and imagine a shield around you. It is even more magical than my own because it is transparent and nobody can see it. But you know it is there, and that is the most important part of this shield, that you know.”

Eduardo sighed. Not because he questioned hearing Arthur speak,  they had regularly spoken in the past. He questioned what he had said. 

“How can a shield that nobody can see be of use to me??”

 “ I told you, your thoughts are your power weapon! Your thoughts create that shield and with a shield around you surely you feel safer than without one. I do with my shield.  And when you feel safer you feel more confident. Am I right?”

“ I suppose so”, but Eduardo’s response was full of hesitation and doubt. 

“There you go, doubtful again. Let’s practise it.”

“What do you mean, let’s practise. Do you mean practise facing Peter with a shield around me?”

“Yes, exactly that. I told you your thoughts are your power weapon. Your thoughts can create that shield right now and you also can go back to when you saw Peter this morning. That is called memory.  Imagine that situation, bring it back to your mind, but this time walk along that corridor with your transparent shield around you that nobody sees except you. Ok?  And now meet Peter, and see him how he was this morning. And now also see his words bouncing off your shield straight back at him. Can you do that?? “

Eduardo did not reply, but he did as Arthur had asked. He imagined the shield and saw himself in that same situation again as in the morning, only this time with the shield around him. Peculiarly enough, he felt a bit stronger and a bit more self assured, able to face Peter and the other boys and not casting his eyes downwards. 

Even though he could not work out exactly how he felt while doing this, one thing he did know, his feelings were not as fearful as they had been that morning. 

He had never thought about thoughts. Of course he knew they were there in his head, although not exactly where in his head. They just turned up as if out of nowhere. And with the thoughts there also came feelings. When he thought of Peter he felt afraid, but when he thought about the warm dark gravy on his plate with the evening meal, he would hopefully get tonight, he did not feel afraid, quite the opposite. He loved gravy and his mother always gave him an extra spoon full. 

Just as his thoughts started to wonder about what there would be for supper , he heard  the knight again,  “ Thoughts are powerful because they create not just pictures and stories but also feelings. You already made that discovery by realising that you feel differently when thinking about Peter compared to thinking about your favourite food. And there is one more, very important thing, and that is that you can change your thoughts!!!  You have done it just now, by thinking about your gravy, leaving Peter behind. But for now, let's just practise having that shield around you. “ 

Eduardo was too absorbed and too astounded to even question how the knight knew about what was going through his head. Instead he replied,” But I am always nervous when I see Peter and my heart starts to race. I am not sure if a shield is enough.” 

“I understand that,” replied the knight. “I get nervous too, even though I have a shield and a sword, and Hoot Hoot of course.. To stop me from panicking, I start counting and slow down my breathing.”

“What do you mean? Counting and breathing?” 

“Well, Imagine there is a square, each side is four steps long. You take in a deep breath and count to four and walk one side,  then you hold that breath for another 4 counts while you walk the next side and then slowly breathe out again to the count of 4,  making your way along the third side of the square.  And no, you are not finished, the last thing is not to breathe in again till you have counted to another 4 and managed the last side. It always makes me  feel calmer having done that a few times.  Try it now, just to see what it is like. “

With the knight helping him, the two of them walked the four sides of the square while breathing in, holding their breath until breathing out again slowly and then holding the empty breath for another 4 steps.

Even though Eduardo gasped a little at the end of it, it also felt good.  He sat there a little unsure but also a little pleased. He had never counted his breath before, he had never even thought about it or listened to it. Of course he knew how to hold his breath. Every time he had a bath he pretended to be a whale in the ocean, submerging his head under the soapy surface with his eyes shut tight to avoid the sting, and then resurfacing for fresh air releasing the held breath through his imaginary blowhole. But he never had thought of making the holding of that breath a purpose in itself.  He was so engrossed thinking about this when suddenly the voice of the knight pulled him back up to the surface. 

“If you do the walking, the breathing and the counting a few more times you will find you are no longer thinking of what happened at school.”  The knight’s eyes twinkled again and he smiled, “ So, now you know what to do. And tomorrow evening let me know how it went.” 

And with that Arthur returned to his profile position on the page, his eyes firmly cast towards the distance of the land.

Eduardo lay there on his bed, silent and oddly calm. He let all that Arthur had said sink to the bottom of his stomach or thereabouts. It felt heavy but also exciting . Arthur was right, while he took his breath and did the counting and imagined his feet walking along the square, he did not think of Peter and that felt good.

  And with this new strength inside him he put the book back on the shelf and returned to the kitchen to help his mother prepare the evening meal. Even she noticed that there was something different about her son and sensed a change with a lighter and more at ease young man now laying the table. 

The next morning he did as Arthur had said. He placed that invisible shield around him and told himself that its tough and indestructible surface would throw any hurtful words straight back at Peter. He also practised the breathing to feel calm again. Armed like that he set out to school. He no longer felt helpless.