what I can't get out my mind

It emerged quite unexpectedly, like a bear after a long hibernation, in one of our conversations over peeling carrots and chopping mushrooms.
My son said, "Mom, do you know what I just can't get out of my mind?"
I replied, "Tell me, my boy."
My son went on with a voice that spoke of haunted dreams, "SPIDERS!"
"Spiders?" I asked, intrigued.
"Spiders, and when I had to run away from that guy with the stick in Botterdorp"

Last Spring, my son and Julie, a 17 year old friend from Germany staying with us, went for a walk in the oh so quiet village where my parents live. In Botterdorp, no one locks their doors. The village is far from hustle and haibo of crime ridden city life, and let's just say the biggest danger facing the village policeman (singular) is that he might fall asleep on duty.

My son and Julie went walking often in the beautiful fynbos-clothed hills surrounding Botterdorp. On this walk, Julie and my son were surprised by an aggressive young man carrying a stick who attacked Julie and pushed her to the ground. He was after her phone. Once he had it he stalked off, leaving Julie shaken up but thankful not to have been harmed physically. The instant my son saw danger, he sprinted 2km to my parent's home where we were having leisurely cups of tea, completely oblivious to what had just happened. He told us what had happened in high definition animation, and I immediately jumped in the car with him and drove off to find Julie. We were relieved to find her walking home. We all went to the police station and described what they'd just encountered. Julie spoke about it, but my son said he didn't want to talk about it because it made it happen over and over again in his mind. That was 9 months ago.

In the weeks following, my son had 4 or 5 nights interrupted by nightmares, and we gave him things to make him feel safe, like Superman pyjamas, a torch and big stick. Under his blankets I would find a whole artillery of bows and arrows, water pistols and sticks that he would take to bed with him. And still he refused to talk about what happened. Whenever we visited Botterdorp he was happy, until asked if he would like to take a walk, which is what his grandfather does most afternoons with his dogs. He point-blank refused to go for walks there. We stopped asking him about it, and over the next few months he gradually took fewer and fewer weapons to bed with him, so we assumed he had begun processing the trauma he experienced.

And then suddenly, while preparing supper together, he let me in on his fears.
I affirmed him again, as we'd done many times, for running home - saying that getting away from danger and coming to call some adults to help was the best way to handle it. He usual response to this is silence, which is an unusual response from my son in any circumstance.

To my adult/parent brain, the fact that my child ran to safety is a relief. Yet the fact that he can't get this incident out of his 7 year old mind, and his silence, suggest that he has not yet got back his sense of power which was taken from him that day.

Since this little peak into his psyche we have watched the (original 1980's) "Karate Kid" movie several times and have played many games where our son defends himself using karate, and sticks, and all manner of weapons. His before-bed prayers are all about thanking God for keeping us safe. Hopefully, through playing and drawing and talking he will work through his experience a little more each day. He will never return to that state of feeling invincible, but I'd settle for my son feeling brave enough to go walking again in the fynbos with his grandfather.


Song Link: Little Brother (B Steady)