The Healer Read Online Free

seemed a huge place. Pigeons exploded from under the eaves and whirled around with a thunder of wings, magnified by the high-peaked roof. The boy started a little and then waded through the hay to the chute, wondering at how soft the timothy was under his feet. He peered down the chute and called, "I'm starting to throw it down now. You tell me when to stop."
    A pitchfork was standing in the corner, but he did not know its use and flung armfuls of hay down the chute until he heard Abe Zook's voice telling him, "Enough now." Before returning, he stopped to look around. The pigeons had gone back to their nests and it was very quiet in the loft. Below him he could hear the cows and the horse beginning to munch on the hay, the sound of Abe Zook moving about, and the occasional clang of a milk pail. He was tired from the long journey, the strain of being jerked out of his accustomed life, and the oxygen-rich country air was making him a little dizzy. His head began to swim and he sat down abruptly on the soft hay.
    Suddenly he felt as though he had left his body and was standing looking down at himself. He saw a scrawny, freckled-faced boy with a sullen, stupid face, to whom he took an instant dislike. At the same time, he was still himself and knew that although this was how he appeared to other people, his mind was full of strange thoughts which no outsider could understand. He wondered if Abe Zook was right, and there were really two of him, and only one was real and that one was not the boy chained to his body. Then, with a shudder, the strange sensation passed and he was again Billy, who had been rejected by his parents and sent to live with a crazy old man because no one else wanted him.
    Shaken, he went down the steps and found Abe Zook, with his forehead braced against the flank of a cow, sending alternate streams of milk into the tilted pail. Billy watched with wonder, amazed that the cow would permit such a liberty. Then he asked, "Is that hard to do?"
    "You try," said Zook, leaning back. Billy took the soft, rubbery teats in his hands and after a few failures managed to produce a squirt of milk. The feel and smell of the living animal gave him a strange pleasure and he felt that he was being initiated into an almost magical rite, but his hands soon grew tired and Abe Zook had to finish the milking.
    After both cows had been milked and the horse fed, he followed the old man to the springhouse, carrying one of the pails. Inside was a long, cement pool full of water so clear that it was almost invisible. He watched while Abe Zook lowered the pails onto concrete blocks placed so the tops of the pails were scarcely an inch above the surface. The old man took up a tin dipper, filled it from a pail, and offered it to him. The milk was so warm and rich that he could drink only a few swallows. "How about some water?" he asked apologetically. The water was sweet, without any trace of chlorine, and he drank far more than he needed, simply for the delightful taste.
    "A full moon it gives," said Zook as they left the springhouse. Billy stared with joy at the mottled silver disk that seemed so much bigger and brighter than any moon he had seen in the city. While he was watching, from behind him came a hard clicking noise, instantly followed by a savage hiss.
    Billy swung around. To one side of the springhouse stood a small shed, the front covered with chicken wire. A perch ran down the center and on the perch was sitting a giant ball of soft brown feathers, puffed up and glaring at the boy with two great yellow eyes that seemed the size of saucers. While Billy watched, the huge bird opened its wings like a fan, leaned forward, and the hooked, black beak vibrated rapidly, making the ominous clicking noise he had heard.
    Zook laughed. "An owl. A great horned owl. He will take no more chickens."
    Billy approached the shed cautiously. He could see now that the owl had two feathered turfs like horns protruding from the top of his head. The