Zac 29 Episode 9
The Healing
The Palace, named so by Mistress Ohenewaa, was a two-storey building located at the entrance of the orphanage.
The ground floor was used as the administration, whilst the top floor was meant as sleeping quarters for the staff. When Mistress Ohenewaa became the governess of the orphanage she built a small living quarters for the staff, and took over the top floor of The Palace for herself.
She loved having the whole big place to herself. It gave her space to organize her parties and for her friends to stay over. She had a huge four-poster bed for herself, and she lived like a queen in her palace.
She enjoyed her sleep tremendously and hated it when her sleep was disturbed. The staff and the orphans knew this and took great pains never to disturb her. She normally woke up around eight in the morning, but the children woke up at five in the morning to begin their daily chores around the compound.
On that strange evening when she touched the chain around Zac’s neck and almost had a heart attack, she had a restless sleep. For the first time, the top floor seemed so huge and ominous. She was afraid of the shadows for the very first time ever, and she put on all the lights to chase the shadows out.
She hated being afraid, and when she was afraid she became angry, and when she was angry she found someone to hate, and since she had always hated Zac, her wrath was more kindled at him that night. She noticed that her hair, which had sprung up like spikes after touching that awful chain, would still not relax and lie down again.
Her hair was still standing up straight like the spikes of a porcupine.
She had spent hours shampooing her hair, but no matter how many times she did it, her hair remained straight.
Finally, screaming with rage, she had tied a scarf around her hair and gone to sleep, and when she woke up at dawn she had breathed a sigh of profound relief when she found her hair had now relaxed.
She went back to bed, a little happier, and then she was awoken by the shrill screams of excited children.
Her eyes went to the little clock on the bedside table: it read 6:01 a.m.
Her eyes first widened with surprise, then narrowed with sudden extreme fury. The unruly children were up and making all that noise, waking her up? And the irresponsible companions allowed them?
She blasted out of her bed like a typhoon and belted her morning gown around her. She went to the window and pulled the blinds, and then she stared outside at the scene below her, trying to see what was causing the miserable wretched orphans to be so unruly.
What she saw was so unexpected that her mouth fell open in a stunned ‘O’.
To one side of the dormitory was a large expanse of brown ground that the children played on. Well, it used to be bare, but not anymore. She could see that it was now covered with playthings.
She could see a see-saw, swings, a trampoline, a bouncer, a basketball court and even a small soccer field, all new and shiny.
And the children were having so much fun.
And a little beyond that she saw something else that set her teeth grinding so loudly that it almost sounded like bombs in her ears.
It was a borehole.
She had sent requests to various companies to provide a borehole for the orphanage so that they would not have to trek all the time to the Wailing River for their water. Her requests brought in donations but she spent it on her lavish lifestyle. The borehole had been started, but not completed.
Now it was functioning.
She could see the children working the hand pump, and the water was coming out of the tap in great gushes into their buckets. They were so happy and splashing around.
Mistress Ohenewaa saw that only Uncle Pat was there with the children.
The other staff, probably scared because these things had appeared out of nowhere, or because they were scared of Mistress Ohenewaa’s anger, were not in sight.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh!!” she screamed so loudly and it sounded so terrible that the happy children heard it, and Uncle Pat heard it, and it froze all of them.
She came tearing out of the house like a cyclone, and swooped on Uncle Pat and the children, her face red with so much fury that for a moment, it resembled an overinflated balloon.
When she spoke it sounded like thunder, and drops of spittle flew out of her mouth.
“What’s the meaning of this, Patrick? Where did these things come from? Who installed them? Where did the borehole come from?”
Uncle Pat leaned on his crutches in his usual slanted way and looked at her warily.
“I don’t know, Madam,” he said in his usual gentle voice. “When we woke up this morning everything was here, like this.”
“You think I’m mad? Do I look insane to you?” Mistress Ohenewaa hissed. “They appeared out of thin air? Do I look like a nincompoop to you?”
Uncle Pat’s face reddened at the insult.
It had always been like that.
Mistress Ohenewaa had never liked Uncle Pat and had always been mean to him.
“It happened just like the kenkey changed to rice yesterday, Madamm” Uncle Pat responded with some indignation. “You were there, you saw it too.”
“Don’t get cheeky with me you foul, crippled oaf! I was sleeping and you let these evil little waifs come out to disturb me? You’re such a pathetic, useless cripple, aren’t you?”
Uncle Pat tried to speak but he was highly agitated, and as Mistress Ohenewaa continued to rain expletives on him he shook helplessly on his crutches.
“Oh, you’re such a vile woman, aren’t you?” Uncle Pat managed to say at last.
That one got to Mistress Ohenewaa.
She stopped in midsentence with her mouth opened in a great snarl.
She gave a monstrous wail and flew at Uncle Pat.
She ripped one of his crutches from under his arm. Uncle Pat uttered a cry of alarm as he fell helplessly to the ground.
The enraged governess started hitting him across the head with his crutch.
Uncle Pat raised his arms feebly to ward off the blows.
Some of the children began to cry; they felt so sorry for the plight of Uncle Pat.
Zac stepped forward suddenly and stood between Mistress Ohenewaa and the gasping man.
“Leave him alone!” Zac said with tears in his eyes.
Mistress Ohenewaa still had the crutch raised and still had the maddened fury in her eyes. She snarled and began to bring the crutch down, intending to smash it on top of Zac’s head.
Zac turned his back on her and reached out a hand to the man on the ground. Uncle Pat, with tears in his eyes and shivering from the effects of the assault on him, reached out and took Zac’s hand.
“Uncle Pat, it is my wish that you walk again,” Zac said softly under his breath so that no one heard him, and immediately one of the lockets on the chain of the leaps shone brightly, giving off dazzling lights, and then it died into a dull silver.
Uncle Pat screamed then, and Mistress Ohenewaa, who was bringing down the crutch on Zac’s head, paused.
The metal braces along Uncle Pat’s legs fell off, and his huge heavy-soled customized shoes fell off his feet.
He shouted when he felt his tiny, stumpy legs bunching up, and then they shot out, thickening and elongating, and in the blink of an eye, Uncle Pat’s crippled legs were as straight and as healthy as any normal man’s legs.
Zac pulled Uncle Pat to his feet. He stood tottering for a moment, then he took a step, and another, and another!
Tears glistened on his cheeks and wonder filled his face, and everybody was stunned.
“Heeeeeeeey!” Bobo exclaimed as he saw the healed Uncle Pat. “Flesh legs!”
Uncle Pat was no longer stunted and short. He stood there, a huge powerful man, and his eyes bore into the stunned Mistress Ohenewaa, who still had the crutch raised and was staring at Uncle Pat as if she had seen a ghost.
“Ho-how i-is th-this po-po-possible?” she spluttered.
Uncle Pat snatched the crutch from her nerveless hands.
“You wicked woman!” he said fiercely. “I’ll be a good man to teach you a lesson, Madam!”
“Whack her!” Bobo shouted. “Whack her! Whack her! Whack her!”
The other children took up the chant, “Whack her, whack her, whack her!”
Uncle Pat raised the crutch, and Mistress Ohenewaa gave a screech of horror and took to her heels, running toward her quarters with panic all over her puffed-up face.
The children laughed and booed her.
Uncle Pat dropped the crutch, looked at Zac, and shook his head wonderingly, and then an expression of sheer delight crossed his face.
“Thank you, Zac, my friend,” he murmured and hugged Zac as tears fell unchecked down his face. “Thank you very much!”
As the other children cheered wildly, Kweku Obi turned away with a dark look on his face. His hand was deep in his pocket as he fingered the little green bottle Mr. Happy had given him.
“Enjoy it, Zachariah, enjoy it!” Kweku hissed fiercely. “Just four more days!”
