Continuing the tale of Unidentified Patient #307, “Healer.” - Parce
The big day had arrived. The last time this many pigs had been assembled on my property, they were setting it on fire. I would have been drenched in sweat if I hadn’t been cutting my wool extra short. I gritted my teeth and kept it together. I would have been a hypocrite if I did anything else. I had demanded far more restraint than this from my friends.
I stood on the new concrete path that led from the fence to the front door and watched pigs and sheep mill around, messing up the fresh sod Swifter and I had put down a few days ago. A few of the pigs had brought filming equipment. They set up a camera and a boom mic. A van parked by the gate had a bunch of TV screens inside, each one showing a different channel.
Wilter, the mayor of Fleece City, slid out of the crowd and came up to me. “I’m proud of you,” he said. “See what happens when you just work hard? You put in the effort and now you’re hitting the big time. I’m very interested to see what the future holds for you, son.” He clapped a hoof on my shoulder and looked me in the eye. He didn’t have to say what he really meant: We’re watching you.
If I’d had any guts at all, I would have smacked his hoof away from me, or maybe knocked out some of his teeth for calling me “son.” But I couldn’t have done that even if I wanted to. Even though I hadn’t taken any of Chugg’s pills since running away from school, I was still broken. I had vague thoughts of aggression, but nothing that would form into concrete actions I could take with my body. I just nodded, still squeezing my jaw.
I turned to the van and watched the screens. The pigs with the camera and microphone waved. A feedback whine sounded off and then all the TVs in the van switched to the same image: Charlie Chugg’s face.
“Good morning!” the cartoon pig said. “The Chugg Corporation is interrupting your regular program for a very special announcement!”
The TVs then showed the camera’s view of my front yard, with my clinic in the background and the cloudless blue sky above. Wilter was in the middle of the frame, and I could see myself off to the side. We were live.
“Good morning to everyone here and those listening at home,” Wilter said. “I am very happy to announce the grand opening of Whole Hogs, Fleece City’s first health and wellness clinic. Generously funded by the Chugg Corporation.”
He stepped aside and let the pig with the camera take in the full view of the clinic. It was two stories tall with a flat roof. I had planted some trees on either side. The ground floor’s exterior was almost all glass, but we couldn’t see inside because it was so bright out here. The windows on the top floor were smaller and covered with blinds. To one side was a small balcony with a wrought-iron rail. Charlie Chugg’s face was mounted above the front door, facing the city.
“We’re going to let you all take a look inside in just a minute,” Wilter said. “But first, the clinic’s owner has something he wants to say.” He stepped off the path and the camera panned over to me.
I had thought I would be more nervous once it was my time to speak, but it turned out the anticipation was the worst part. Now that I had something to do, there was no problem.
“Good morning,” I said. I stared into the camera lens and the thousands of eyes it represented. “My name is Healer. You may have heard of me. I made the news some time ago. My name was Snapper then. I did some things that I regret, things that caused trouble for a lot of people.” I started to pace around on the concrete. The pig kept me in the center of the frame.
“I have made private apologies to the administration of the Megatropolis, and as you can see, I’ve been extended forgiveness and grace. I wish to make those same apologies to you, the people of Fleece City, for the rash decisions of a poorly raised young sheep.” I looked into the camera again. My chest shuddered at the words I was about to say. “My father, Old-Timer, the Trampler, was a danger to society. He tried to make me the same as him. For my actions and for his, I am sorry.”
I took a deep breath. “But all is well that ends well. I engaged in an attempt at insurrection with the dangerous creatures Ponder and Mauler, but they are back under pig control where they belong—where we all belong. I am glad our world is safe again.” I glanced at the building behind me. “However, not everyone has made it without a scratch. Our world has been largely tamed by the goodwill of the Chugg Corporation, but it is still full of dangers, both to the body and to the soul. That is why I founded Whole Hogs.”
The camerapig ran around to my side and kept pace with me as I started walking toward the front door.
“This facility,” I said, “is a complete repudiation of everything my father did to hurt our society. Old-Timer built a house away from Fleece City and took me out here to keep my power a secret from the world. Now that my healing ability is public knowledge, I thought it would be fitting to have the shell of that old house swept away. This clinic is built where that house used to stand. I have rejected Old-Timer’s secrecy and decided to use this place to share my unique ability with everyone.” I pushed open the front door. The camera crew followed me in, then so did the rest of the guests.
The floors were a faux hardwood. The walls were painted light blue at the top, fading to a grass green at the bottom. Soft lights near the ceiling paired with the natural sunlight coming in through the large windows all around. Most of the ground floor was one wide-open space, with exercise equipment, mats, balls, and toys on the floor and on racks lining the walls.
Off to one side, Swifter led two sheep and a dog in an exercise routine with light resistance bands. The camera stayed on him—and why wouldn’t it? He was the photogenic one for sure. I walked over to him and leaned a foreleg on his shoulder while he gave the camera a smile as white as his wool.
“This is Swifter,” I said. “He’s my business partner and the exercise guru of this operation. I might close up the wounds, but it’s his fitness regimen that helps people return to work without reinjuring themselves.”
“How long have you been treating patients here?” someone asked from the crowd.
“Glad you asked. A few weeks. We gave it a quiet trial run before today’s official grand opening.”
The camera panned over to a stairway just to the side of the front door. “What’s up there?”
“Oh,” I said. “I live upstairs. Nothing interesting up there.” I beckoned to the pig and he swung the camera back in my direction. I started walking through the gym and he followed me, sweeping from side to side to capture the whole interior.
“Recovering from injuries is not an instant process,” I said. On cue, one of the other pigs came out of the crowd, bringing an older sheep with him. The old sheep looked like she was from the Quarry and she had a splint around one of her forelegs. The pig gave her a gentle push and she limped into the camera’s frame next to me. I guided her to lie down on a soft mat and then I sat at the edge of it.
“The physical ailment is a simple fix, for the most part.” I gave the old lady a nod and then started unstrapping the splint. “The majority of patients only have to come see me once. I take those cases as appointments as well as walk-ins.”
Underneath the splint was a wound dressing. I carefully unwrapped that as well and exposed the old ewe’s foreleg for the camera. I had to stop and get myself under control.
It was a dog bite. A bad one. The leg was clearly broken and the lacerations the teeth had left were still open. This had happened in the past couple of days. Thankfully, the camera was close to her leg so it didn’t catch the look I gave Wilter. This wasn’t what we had talked about. Had they done this deliberately to have an injury for the broadcast? Or was something else going on?
Being mad about it wasn’t going to help. I put my professional face back on and took a gentle hold on the broken leg. I let the green luster come over my vision. I saw everything at a microscopic level. I commanded the bones to realign and accelerated the cellular response until the wound was gone and the bruising had cleared.
“How’s that?” I asked. The old sheep smiled and nodded. She stood up and walked away, leaving the splint and bandages on the mat, to polite applause from the assembly.
I turned back to the camera. “My powers can mend the physical injury, but I have no magic spell to fix the traumatic memory of the accident or the deconditioning that can happen. For those difficult cases, we set up recurring appointments, usually two or three times a week. Those patients receive physical rehabilitation from Swifter. We take all Chugg health insurance plans and—”
Wilter stepped in front of me. “And all patients will be eligible for the services of a psychiatrist on loan from Chugg Pharmaceuticals.”
I completely forgot what I was saying. I stared in silence as Wilter was joined by a pig wearing glasses and a slick seersucker blazer. He waved to the camera.
“This is Dr. Gobb,” Wilter said. “He will be providing counseling and, if needed, medication for anyone who requires it.”
Dr. Gobb wandered off and Wilter came to my side. “Well, we’d better let our viewers return to their shows,” he said. “Thank you to everyone who joined us for this grand opening. If you’re in need of healing, go see the Healer.”
“And cut,” said the pig behind the camera. He and the others packed up their stuff and left. Wilter started to walk away but I grabbed his shoulder.
“What the hell was that? We’re not giving these patients Dopemol or Vexylam or any of that garbage.”
Wilter scoffed and leaned close to me. “Actually, son, you are. Orders from up top. Nothing you or I can do about it.”
“We’ll see about that. And in the meantime, you can explain something to me. What happened to that old woman’s leg? I was supposed to be healing a sprained ankle. Who’s letting dogs bite sheep at the Quarry? We put a stop to all this, remember?”
Wilter narrowed his eyes. “I remember you assisting a creature trying to lead a rebellion against the Megatropolis. I also remember that you signed a non-disclosure agreement regarding the nature of any injuries you saw here. Would you like to have your business license yanked before this place has a chance to get going?”
I took a deep breath. “No.”
“Good. Now, find a comfortable space for Dr. Gobb to practice. That office in the corner looks nice.”
“That’s my…” I started to say, but it wasn’t worth it.
Dear Healer,
I hope you are well. I want to congratulate you on the successful launch of your new business venture. From my distant vantage point, it seems that you are continuing our fight for your people in your own way. That or you have let go of your feud with the Chugg Corporation and are enjoying the amnesty we negotiated. Either outcome is acceptable.
As I write this letter, I have not yet decided whether I will send it to you. I have news that I believe you will find both welcome and frightening. Mauler and I have done our penance and we have been granted more freedom of movement. It is the manner in which we earned this privilege that weighs upon my mind. I am writing this as a form of confession.
From the moment you and I parted ways at the Megatropolis gate until about one month ago, Mauler and I were bound together, tied with ropes and skewered on hooks like butchered meat. They did this to prevent us from becoming Render and laying waste to their city. I worried every day that Mauler would become septic as he was when I first met him. There were days when I felt that whatever spirit animates my wooden body would soon depart and leave me an inert object once again.
But it was those days that Karkus’s fire burned strongest in my chest. The longer our torment went on, the sweeter the thoughts of vengeance became. That fire welded body to soul and kept me alive. Karkus guides us.
The Chugg Corporation sent for us that morning. Mauler and I were separated and marched out the gate. We were taken around to the north side of the Megatropolis wall, where their refinery waste has poisoned the forest and turned the foot of the mountain yellow. There, I had my first look at Toxid’s boneyard. Several familiar figures had gathered there.
Entomber was there. He withdrew when he saw us. I found it gratifying to see your father’s murderer in such fear. He has not forgotten our last meeting.
Your ineffectual mayor, Wilter, was also in attendance. Like Entomber, he was quite afraid.
Commander Pincher was present as well, along with his talented new second-in-command. Considering the circumstances, I quite admired the self-control on display. I assume you had something to do with that.
A young sheep had been convicted of some crime. I will spare the details—I do not remember most of them—but the point is that the Chugg Corporation is not holding up their end of the bargain. The sheep was tied up at the edge of the cliff, with a gag in his mouth so he could not argue in his own defense.
The sentence was read out: sacrifice. I was horrified. We had specifically negotiated for this to end. The message was clear. Our bargain had meant nothing to them. They had Mauler and me back under their control, and that was all that mattered.
I discovered then that this was set up as some kind of loyalty test. They wanted to know if they had sufficiently tortured us to secure our compliance. At first we thought Pincher was going to throw the sheep into Toxid’s boneyard, as he nearly did to you. But at the last moment he ordered us to carry out the sentence instead.
Mauler balked. In retrospect, he showed more courage than I did. I, too, had a chance to stand by principle. But at the time, all I could think about was how much we had gone through to reach this point. My fear was that they would further torture Mauler if he did not comply. I first made a move to do the deed myself, but I realized we both needed to be a party to this execution in order to pass the test.
I took advantage of Mauler’s deference to me.
I commanded Mauler to throw the sheep over the cliff.
Healer, I am so sorry. I want you to know that I understand how deeply I have betrayed you. The entire purpose of the deal was to stop the conflict and protect our sweet Mauler from getting blood on his hands. I have failed you, completely and utterly. This was Chugg’s goal: to destroy everything the deal stood for. They succeeded.
But in my failure, a new opportunity has arisen. We have proven our loyalty to their satisfaction, it seems, and Mauler and I are to be inducted as Megatropolis law enforcement agents. Our training is underway. It is intense and difficult, but certainly more accommodating than imprisonment. As I said, I now have the time and means to be writing letters. Should I decide to send this to you, I will find no shortage of sympathetic birds willing to deliver it in secret.
I promise you, Healer, I will not waste the opportunity that sheep gave us with his life. During the day I train and further ingratiate myself with the Chugg Corporation. At night I work on several side projects. One of these is a study of chemistry, using books sourced from the esteemed University. With my new knowledge I am modifying my wooden body for a specific purpose. And I am engineering a last resort to deploy in case our plans fail.
Whatever the cost, Healer, I will make this right.
Yours,
Ponder