Feeling the Vibes by Annie Dalton Read Free Book Online

relieved smiles. We’d got Obi safely to the orphanage and with absolutely no hassle.
    Like everywhere else, the orphanage had taken a major battering. The building had huge scorch marks as if it had caught on fire at some point. The front door was dimpled all over with what looked like tiny bullet holes.
    A tough-looking guy sat on his haunches outside, puffing on one of those brown Indian beedis. His eyes slid off Obi like he was of no interest whatsoever. “Scram,” he said in Kashmiri. “We’ve got two hundred little street rats inside already.”
    I heard Brice curse. No one at the Agency had thought to mention the orphanage might be full. I felt sick. We’d have to camp on the street until the monks turned up. Obi would be exposed to icy winds, snow, not to mention ugly cosmic influences.
    “Relax, Beeby,” Reuben said softly. “Our little bodhisattva is going to sort it.”
    Obi went on waiting silently in front of the security guy. He didn’t whinge or plead or sob. He was absolutely calm and still.
    The security guy had probably experienced just about every horror human life has on offer. He had learned to shut everything out just to stay sane. But he had no defences against the pure vibes emanating from a child bodhisattva .
    He started to fidget. He scratched his nose. He checked out his ear wax (both ears), but in the end he was forced to look up.
    “Why are you still here?” he growled. “I told you to beat it.” I noticed this time he really looked at Obi.
    ” Salaam aleikum ,” Obi said shyly. “I am sorry I am still here, uncle, but I have nowhere else to go.”
    The man gave an angry laugh. “Nobody in this town has anywhere to go. Do you think I’d be here given a choice?”
    A look of compassion came into Obi’s eyes. “Are you all by yourself like me, uncle? It feels very lonely, doesn’t it?”
    I saw the man’s breathing change.
    “No ammi, eh?” he said fiercely.
    Obi shook his head. “No.”
    “No abbu either?”
    I saw Obi swallow. “I lost them. I walked and walked and I called and called, but I didn’t find them, uncle. I didn’t find my mummy and my daddy again.”
    The boys and I exchanged startled looks. This wasn’t the story Obi had rehearsed with Miss Dove. The words had somehow welled up from his store of human memories.
    “What is wrong with this world,” the guy muttered. “The angels must be crying themselves to sleep.” He took a last hungry puff of his beedi. “Come! I’ll take you to the sisters.”
    The office was at the end of a long green-tiled corridor. You could hear kids’ voices echoing all through the building. I was ashamed to realise I hadn’t given them a single thought, the real orphans.
    The elderly nun who ran the orphanage never thought about anything else. I could see it in her face. The security guard whispered to her urgently in Kashmiri. She whipped off her glasses and frowned at Obi across a great toppling pile of papers. I saw the painful pinch marks from her glasses and I knew then that like the town she was all burned out. She didn’t have a drop of energy left to help another soul.
    Obi just waited, totally peaceful, trusting that this exhausted human would do what was right, even if it was utterly impossible.
    I saw the nun’s expression change. I saw her decide to make room in an overcrowded, underfunded orphanage for one more needy child.
    “Yess!” Brice said under his breath and we all sagged with relief.
    Obi stood patiently as a younger nun checked him over for fleas, lice and whatever. Then she took him to meet the other kids. One girl immediately pulled him on her knee and started teaching him clapping games. Her name was Fareeda. She had a younger sister, Nansi.
    You know those Third World kids on the news who’ve seen much too much? That was Fareeda and Nansi. But like with the security guy, the sweetness in Obi brought out the forgotten sweetness in them.
    I remembered something Mr Allbright told us about