Short Stories

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From Zero to Sixty in an Instant.

It was no easy thing to do. It was the bottom of the barrel as far as lifestyles were concerned. But sitting at the Beautiful Gate was the nearest thing Zero was going to get to a beautiful life. The irony of it all stung him into bitterness. First century sensitivity to the physically challenged was embarrassingly poor. If you didn't start out with a full-working set of limbs, your destiny promised a beggar's chance of living.
His mother had called him Zebedee. At school he got "Zebo" as a nickname. It didn't take long for his companions to get from "Zebo" to "Zero". Children have a way of being cruel sometimes. The name stuck. Zero. And that's just how he felt. Totally useless. A nothing. Despised, rejected, on the dung heap of forgotten humanity. Zero.
His friends who dutifully brought him to the gate of the temple daily had told him about Jesus who had been going round healing people. This sounded hopeful, maybe he would see Jesus on the way to the temple. Those hopes were shattered when Jesus got himself arrested and crucified. The grapevine had it that it was all about something he had said. That was the end of that.
He was musing on this one day when he heard a commotion. There were people coming for the afternoon worship service at the temple. A chance of gathering a smattering of income. He gathered himself together and got into a position where could see people and best be seen. At least the temple was a good place to sit. There were always plenty of people passing by and often almsgiving was practised by the stricken religious conscience. This was good business for Zero and he had learnt over the years that the few people who did stop to give him a pittance were the more religious. After 40 years he could tell them at a distance.
Peter and John were passing by and Zero stretched out his hand in his usual way, half-hoping, half-despairing. To his surprise, they stopped. Maybe this was going to be a good day after all. He couldn't have begun to imagine how good.
"Look at us!" said the more robust of the two. What did he want? Zero looked up, wondering if he was going to be berated for begging. He had his answer ready.
"I don't have any silver or gold…" Zero's heart sank and his face dropped at the same time. "Here we go again," he thought. He was retracting his hand and lowering his eyes when then big man continued.
"But what I do have I will give you." Confused but cautiously interested, Zero looked up again, but nothing could have prepared him for what was coming.
"In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk."
Zero replayed the words in his mind a second time. Whatever he had expected it certainly wasn't that. He was lost for words. As he scrambled for a reply he leaned forward and felt a strange sensation in his legs. Peter reached out his hand as if to help him up. By reflex action Zero reciprocated the gesture. He felt himself being pulled up and his legs and ankles gaining strength. "What…?!" He was standing upright for the first time in his life. He felt a surge of pleasure through his whole body. A smile shot to his face and he grinned so hard it nearly hurt him. Everyone's eyes were on him. He took his first step forward. Then his second unfalteringly. Before he knew it he was yelling, running, dancing, experimenting with his new gift of life. "I'm healed! I can walk! I can run! Look! Look!" "Jesus Christ of Nazareth!" he repeated. "Jesus did this!" He could hardly contain his joy! "Thankyou! Thankyou so much!"
He had gone from Zero to sixty in an instant!

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