The Healing Party

The Healing Party Read Free Page A

Book: The Healing Party Read Free
Author: Micheline Lee
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the door shut. A poster of Bono that my friend Bonnie had secretly stuck to the back of the door was still there. Bonnie had shared this room with me when she came to us for refuge. She had taken Patsy’s bed, while Patsy moved into Maria’s room. I ripped the poster off the door and was about to crush it but stopped myself. Since Bonnie’s death, I had not been able to throw away anything of hers. Folding the poster, I placed it in my backpack to take to Darwin and add to the cardboard box where I kept her photos, letters and books.
    The room had a sour smell of old bedding. I imagined also a hint of vanilla, the scent of the discount moisturiser Bonnie had worn. Opening the window, I gathered the curtains and let them hang on the outside of the window. I stripped the blankets and sheets from the beds and, although the weather was cold and grey, carried them out the back to hang on the Hills Hoist. The large backyard was an intimidating tangle of long grass, teeming weeds and towering cacti. Dad had been meaning to clean it up since we’d moved in thirteen years ago. Only the side edge of the yard where a path led to the Hills Hoist was clear.
    Returning to the room, I emptied my backpack and stuffed my clothes into the wardrobe. Then I flopped down on the bare mattress, still wearing my shoes and jacket, meaning to rest for one minute but sinking straightaway into a deep sleep.
    I woke up, startled. The phone was ringing in my parents’ bedroom and I rushed to pick up. It was Dad, gushing and breathless. ‘Where’s Mum, Natasha? Wonderful news. Praise the Lord!’
    â€˜What is it, Dad?’ I was shivering from cold.
    â€˜Geoff and I prayed with Father Lachlan, a true man of God. We were singing in the most mellifluous of tongues when suddenly Geoff burst out in prophecy. “Your hands have been blessed so that Irene may live!” Do you understand, Natasha? Jesus will heal your mother through the hands of Father Lachlan. Isn’t that wonderful?’
    â€˜Do you mean healed of cancer?’
    â€˜Of course, Natasha.’
    â€˜And when is this to happen?’
    â€˜This year – by the end of this year. Alleluia! There is plenty more, but now I must tell Irene. Give the phone to Mum.’
    â€˜She’s sleeping, Dad.’
    â€˜Wake her up.’
    â€˜Can’t this wait until you come home?’
    â€˜She will want to be woken up for this wonderful news. Your mother is healed. Tell her to sing and dance and eat anything she wants – no more hospital, no more chemo, we are going to throw that wheelchair away. A miracle, Natasha. Give the phone to Irene – now!’
    Her face was sensitive, sweet and sad while she slept, her brow relaxed, mouth gentle and eyelids lightly flickering. It seemed so cruel to wake her.
    â€˜Mum, wake up,’ I said, rubbing her shoulder. And louder, ‘Mum, Dad’s on the phone.’ Her eyes opened, shocked and unseeing. The panic on her face subsided as she took in my presence and her surroundings.
    â€˜Huh, what?’ she said in a hoarse voice.
    â€˜It’s all right, Mum. It’s just Dad on the phone. He says he has some good news for you.’ I handed her the phone.
    â€˜ Meeyeaah? ’ she asked. Dad’s excited talking, rising and falling over the line, was loud enough for me to hear. Then the tinny sounds stopped, and she said, ‘Praise the Lord. Okay … Alleluia … Yes, I believe … Yes, I am healed …’ Her voice sounded tired and dull, but when she put the phone down and I saw her eyes, they were glowing.

P ATSY, THE YOUNGEST, RANG WITH A MESSAGE from Anita, the eldest. The family was coming over for dinner at 7 p.m., and Anita said I had to cook. Patsy’s voice often trembled from shyness. Now it took on a self-important tone. Everything had to be organic and free-range. No frying, no soya sauce, no chemicals or preservatives, no chillis or pepper.

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