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https://pixabay.com/photos/breakfast-fried-breakfast-bacon-1583257/
Emma was sitting at the table with Zac, the young lovely boy that had been in her care for two years now. Cups of coffee stood at the table oozing white steam. Bread, butter, toast, bacon sausage, grilled tomatoes. Emma was urging Zac to eat as much as he liked. Since being in that unfortunate road crash he had taken to eating in little bites, like a bird. He rarely spoke to anyone, was always alone.
"Some more coffee?" Emma asked him tenderly.
Zac shook his head for a reply. His fingers were tightly wound round the coffee cup almost as if he was enjoying it's scalding hotness. And he seemed to be shivering as well as he had been some 3 nights ago.
Emma buttered a brown toast before lifting her face to him again.
"Maybe we will have to treat you for pneumonia. Are you feeling cold?"
He nodded hesitantly and stretched a hand and touched his chest. Emma's hand followed his.
"You are feeling pain there?"
A more eager nod and a squeezing of the face. Zac then picked some biscuits from the table and took a little munch before he leaned back on the chair and gave a light belch. That usually signalled he was done eating.
Emma, after putting Zac away at his books sat at the living room alone and thought deeply. This little precious one she had given her sweat and blood to make sure all went well for him. She had given thousands of dollars of her savings to hospitals for his treatment. But his recovery had been slow. She had delayed on his education. She had wanted to purchase the necessary text and note books plus stencils to homeschool him but his inability to speak had been a problem. The dark red shiny wall clock brought her consciousness back to the present and she sighed. It was exactly 7:00 and she had to hurry as not to be late for her workplace. Her boss had met her with a frown the previous days she had come late and his reply to her excuses showed he was not too happy with it. After getting ready she took Zac with her in the car on her way to drop him at his aunt's place from where she would pick him up upon her return from work.
It was a cold winter morning. The ground was completely covered with white and one couldn't get a glimpse of soil. The generous, morning breeze was felt deep and chilly in the lungs and left white freezing flakes on the face and clothes. A blue Chevrolet was slowly making it's way out of the garage and little Zac stood with grandmum and granddad and waited. Grandmum hugged him and planted a goodbye kiss on his tiny fair forehead. He clung to her and did not hear his dad's deep voice pleading with him. Grandmum had to soothe him with a promise and a nice little treat before he agreed to go with dad. His dad then sat him on the front seat and made his way gently out to the highway, the tires making crunchy sounds that intrigued Zac and got his inquisitiveness flying high like a kite. His dad was all pleased to answer his question. They both were on their way back after spending a pleasant holiday with Zac's grandparents. Through the journey Zac was holding himself tightly while fiddling with the car's radio knob going from one radio station to another, often interfering with his father's driving. He had already fallen asleep when the policemen pulled his dad over to check his car documents. After a stretch of 7 kilometers, Mr Wilson caught himself nodding off. His eyelids felt heavy and so was his entire body. He had been awake most of the night and now longed for something silky and warm to stretch himself on for a good rest. But he had to take his son home safely first.
https://pixabay.com/photos/highway-a38-thuringia-landscape-3803025/
At a point he noticed the big lumbering form of a trailer coming towards him. He had only gone so near when he noticed two Nissan cars following each other as swift as the wind, attempting to go ahead of the trailer. The two cars were horning incessantly but the trailer paid no head. Mr Wilson tried swerving to the left into the nearby bush but it was too late. The fenders of both cars collided in a huge crash. That was the last Mr Wilson saw or heard. The last thing on his mind before his consciousness switched off was his tender son Zac.
At the hospital, the tears of his wife was abundant and sorrowful. Friends and family had a hard time getting her to be consoled. A double tragedy was on her. Her dearest husband lay cold and stiff in the morgue, he was taken at the spot of the pileup. Her dear son, Zac was unable to open his eyes ever since, his pulse racing wildly. The doctors offered little hope and even if there was hope, it might cost a fortune to get him to be well again. Zac was in the operation room for hours while the doctors worked on him. Miraculously he came to a few hours later. He lying on the bed when his mother approached him, his tiny head resting wearily on the soft pillow. He seemed almost immobile except for his eyes that rolled about in discomfort and pain. His mother grasped his hand gently in hers the tears falling freely her face and called him by his name and spoke to him. But the reply Zac gave told her she might as well have lost both her husband and her tender son. The news from the doctors confirmed her worst fears.
"Now pay attention Zac,"
Emma was saying tenderly to Zac who was flipping the pages of an illustrated story book. For a moment he hoisted his head a little and fixed an agitated gaze on Emma's face.
All the eagerness was soon gone out Emma's eyes and voice when she saw that look. It always meant Zac was not pleased with something. Maybe the way she had spoken. She decided right away.
"Zac," She breathed a sigh "Are you hungry?"
"No."
His voice was sort of raised as if in irritation. Ever since he regained his ability of speech he had been having difficult bouts of irritation.
"Sleep?" Emma persisted
This time a disinterested nod. The pages of the storybook was still turning in his fingers.
Emma then understood.
"OK, I will leave you to your book. But remember we cannot keep setting your lessons aside otherwise you will lag behind more than your peers in your academics."
"OK.
Most of the tension was gone from the little boy's voice this time. He took his storybook to the sofa and lay belly down his feet up and locked.
When Emma came back to the sitting room Zac was still reading, but no more his favourite book. It was their family photo album. Emma wondered where he got that from as she had always kept it locked away in the shelf in her room. Then she remembered she had brought it to read at the living room last night and had fallen asleep on it. She had gone in for the night leaving it lying on the cushion.
She took steps nearer to where he lay flipping the pages with eagerness. He was at the page of his dad's picture. The one he took during his 35th birthday. Emma only had to let her gaze lie there for a while before feeling the hotness rising to her eyes. With the hotness came tears and she blinked and cleaned her eyes rapidly. Zac was roused by the sudden movement near him and raised half his body. His gaze rested for a while on Emma's face before he muttered 'mummy' and Emma was stunned. She suddenly felt she was enclosed in suffocating clouds that threatened to snatch the breath from her lungs. Her pulse raced wildly.
Her son! She exclaimed. Finally! She sat near him and he raised himself completely and embraced her. The word mummy came from his lips again, and Emma held him tight. The long awaited miracle had taken place. Zac had been able to recall who the strange woman he had been living with these three years was. Emma's immense gratitude came in form of thick tears and she let them fall freely. This was the first real comfort she had received since that unfortunate accident that claimed her dear husband.
After a moment of tense emotions, Emma went through the entire album with her son Zac.
"That's daddy," he said. "That's when he bought me a tricycle for my birthday."
He was right and Emma nodded joyously. She flipped two more pages and asked
"Remember this?"
"Yes," Zac said. "That's me and daddy when we were on holiday at grandad and grandmum's place."
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https://pixabay.com/photos/mother-child-together-family-boy-6997830/
Her son was right. That was the night before that unfortunate accident, and the pangs of pain still fiddled with Emma's emotions. But right now she was awash in the ocean of joy just for the miraculous healing that had come to her son. It meant the world to her and she was not going to let the pain of the past get in the way of that joy. She tightened her embrace on him and planted a rapturous kiss on his forehead.
The End.
Thanks so much for reading.
