Zacharias Smith
Baa baa, swish swish. These noises are regulars at my ranch in Victoria Down. My dad and I used to live here. The house I live in is blue roofed with a wide porch. The house itself is white and roomy. We have only one floor in the house and 10 rooms. My favorite is the library. Dad and I used to spend a lot of time there together.
My father was a widower and he lived alone in the ranch with me. We would have great times together.
I’d get up early and spend the morning with the animals. Breakfast was a scrappy affair, just some milk and biscuits to keep me going. I’d mostly be herding the sheep into a pen or tending to sick or hurt sheep and driving away rabbits from the paddocks.
In the afternoon, I had a large supper. Then I would spend time with Dad. I never went to school. That wasn’t to say I was illiterate. I studied way above my level at home. I would spend the afternoon with Dad studying in the library. Dad would then do paperwork of the ranch, while I sat beside him. He would explain everything to me. “It’s important for you to understand how the ranch works, Zacharias-icus. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll have to run it yourself!”
It was the best life anyone could wish for. But then one day, not so long ago, everything changed.
That night my father was unusually grave. He held me tenderly before I went to bed and told me this, “Loss – It’s devastating but you can get over it. Grief comes to everyone sometimes, Zacharias-icus. You need to remember this always. Moving on is the most important thing.”
I just nodded, because, at that time, I didn’t understand.
The next morning, I ran to Dad’s room to wish him good morning, as I was accustomed to doing. There, I saw that the bed was empty and unmade. There was a note on the dresser. It said-
Dear Zacharias-icus,
By the time you are reading this letter, I will be gone. This is a harsh thing to tell you, I know, but I trust you to handle the truth well. Life isn’t all a fairytale, Zacharias, and this was the only way. Aunt Clara will get custody of you as per my will. I know you will do the right thing, and, remember, I did this so you could live a safer life. Don’t grieve me but move on.
Love from,
Dad.
The letter dropped from my hands. Dad! How was this possible? To even suggest that I should live with Aunt Clara! Of all the preposterous things!
Now, you must be wondering, “How can Zacharias be thinking about such things when his father gone forever?” But the truth is that I wasn’t ready to just blindly accept my father’s disappearance. I was convinced that there was some sort of mistake.
But after three days and no news, I decided that it was time to take things into my own hands. No one had realized my father was gone. I had been able to manage all his work. Those evenings of paperwork were finally paying off. I decided that no one would ever know that my father wasn't there. I would run everything on my own.
I did too. Everything went pretty smoothly until I had to sign some tax statements. It was easy enough to pay bills and helpers. I could even fill forms with a pretty good imitation of Dad’s handwriting. But to have to sign was altogether a different matter.
I went through all of Dad’s old papers and looked through the signatures. I practiced all night. Finally, I was able to produce a decent replication of my father’s signature.
I had read many detective books about forgery, and how the detective recognized it. I made sure that mine wasn’t recognizable by those methods.
I had no problem with understanding any of the tax documents that I received. I knew exactly what to fill and where to sign. I even knew how to post it. However I was still in a state of nervousness and worry. What if anyone found out about the forgery? What if I was caught and sent to jail? At the back of my mind I knew that sending children to jail wasn’t legal, but I didn’t want to know what they did instead.
A few weeks passed. It had now been a whole month since Dad disappeared (No, he did not die!). All was going extremely well except that my health had begun to deteriorate. I was sleeping less and eating lesser. The stress of handling the ranch by myself was beginning to show.
Then one day, out of the blue, a woman in a suit suddenly came and knocked on the door sometime midday. Ms. Potts opened it and showed her in. I came and met her in the living room, where she had sat down on one end of the couch.
“Good Morning,” she said crisply and efficiently. “Who are you?”
“My name is Zacharias Smith,” I said sitting up straight and confidently, like my father had taught me to do. Inside, however, I was terrified. I didn’t know what was going to happen.
“May I see your father?” she asked politely.
“Umm…no! He is unwell today and has a rather infectious cold. Even I am not allowed to see him.”
She regarded me silently for a moment, with her eyebrows raised. Then, completely randomly, she inquired, “When was the last time you slept, Zacharias?”
I stuttered, unsure of how to answer.
She looked at me sympathetically, “You don’t know where your father is do you?”
I could only gape.
“It’s very clear Zacharias. You clearly have spent some sleepless nights worrying, or mourning I assume. The way you stumbled before answering my query about your father was another indication. Finally, who gets a cold in summer?”
She did not stop smiling as she said this. “I want to help you, tell me what happened”
I don’t know why, but I strangely began to trust this kindly faced woman for some reason. I told her everything. I even showed her the letter.
“You poor thing, you’ve been through so much. You even ran the ranch for a whole month, by yourself. What a burden to carry alone. I have a suggestion. I can promise you that this ranch will be in good hands if you agree to come to a special school. There, they teach children with special abilities, like you, to become spies. I’m one myself. I’m currently undercover in the government. Congratulations on your forgery by the way. It was quite good, no one except I was able to see through it. So, what do you say?”
I looked into her eyes, intently, for a moment. “OK, I’ll do it.”