Zach
by Michael W. Mann
Zach knew what it was like to get picked on, pushed around, being from the richest family in town, yet the smallest kid in his class. And while short like his father, unlike his father, Zach had a soft heart, a heart for anyone who had a problem that seemed bigger than they were, for anyone who was being cheated somehow. It was inevitable, his getting involved, defending someone who was getting the short end of the stick. His mother was used to seeing him come home with bruises or a bloody nose.
When Zach became a teenager, his mother thought the injuries would stop, but they continued. After coming home with yet another bloody nose, his mother reacted. “Zach, you didn’t get into another fight, did you? Who were you defending this time?”
“I — I was defending Dad.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Mom, kids have been saying Dad’s a liar, a cheat, and a traitor. Why would they say that?”
“That’s what you’ve been getting into fights about? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want you to feel bad.”
Zach’s mother turned away from him, and after a long silence, turned back, with tears beginning to trickle down her face. “I have to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“Zach, go into your father’s office and bring back the two ledgers on top of his desk.”
“You know I’m not allowed in there. If Dad found out, when he gets back from his trip, he’d lay into me good. I think I’ve taken enough of his beatings.”
“I forgot. I’ll get them.”
She set the ledgers on the kitchen table, side by side, and opened them both to the first page.
“Zach, you know what your father does for a living, right?”
“I know he collects taxes. But that’s all I know.”
“What you don’t know is how he collects taxes. I’ll show you — look at these two ledgers.”
The ledgers appeared to be identical, including the names of import and export businesses down the left side, in alphabetical order, with the dates and amounts due and collected down the right side.
“Okay, I see them. Why does he need two?”
“Look closer.”
When his mother pointed to the numbers in each ledger, Zach noticed the amounts were different.
“Zach, do you understand what you’re looking at? Your father uses one ledger for the Romans, the other for the people he’s collecting from, and he pockets the difference.”
“What? No way.”
Zach plopped down in a chair, looked up at his mother, but said nothing. He recalled an event from his childhood that he thought hadn’t really happened. He had overheard a man in the market say his father was no good. At the time, he gave the man the biggest frown his little face could handle.
“He’s been doing this for years, hasn’t he? That’s why we have so much money, isn’t it?”
As her tears continued, his mother couldn’t look Zach in the face. “Zach, I’m so very sorry. Your father made me promise never to tell you. I didn’t ever imagine you’d have to suffer for it.”
Zach stormed out of the house, slamming the door.
*
After Zach’s father returned from his trip, Zach wanted to confront him, but his father seemed different somehow, and Zach hadn’t found the courage to say anything to him.
“Hey Zach, on my trip I heard this young prophet teaching things no one has ever heard before. And they say he’s coming to town today.”
“Yeah, so?”
“I thought maybe you’d like to go hear what he has to say.”
“Naw, I’m not interested.”
“C’mon, let’s go.”
“Look, I’m not interested, okay?”
“Okay.”
Zach went to his room and closed the door, collapsed on the bed, and fell asleep. When he woke, he realized he might as well go hear the prophet, as he had nothing better to do. As he approached the crowd lining the main street, he spotted a friend in the crowd.
“Have you seen my dad?”
“Yes, I have.” His friend started to laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Look over there, up in that tree down the street.”
Zach squinted. “That’s my dad? How did he manage to get up there? What’s he doing?”
His friend had a hard time holding in his laughter. “Why don’t you go ask him?”
Zach pushed his way through the crowd, got to the base of the tree, and yelled up at his father.
“What are you doing? Get down from there! “You’re embarrassing me!”
“Zach, the teacher’s coming soon! You’ll be able to see him from here! Come on up!”
Zach turned and walked away. He saw his friend motioning to him, and they decided to hang out at his friend’s house for a while. Then later, on the way home, Zach noticed the streets were eerily quiet. As he turned the corner onto his street, he was startled to see what looked like the entire town surrounding his house — people gathered around every open window and door.
As he got closer, someone yelled out, “There’s Zach!” At the edge of the crowd, people moved back to let him through, as if he were royalty.
“What’s going on?”
“The Master. He’s in your house!”
Once inside, Zach saw his mother, father, some of their friends, and a stranger, in the dining room.
“Zach, please come join us.”
Zach heard his father’s invitation, but he didn’t recognize the gentleness of his father’s voice, and after all the confusing events of the last few days, he began to feel a headache coming on. “Naw, that’s okay — I think I’ll go lie down in my room.”
His mother got up and walked toward him. “Zach, please join us.”
She reached out her hand, and after hesitating, he grabbed it and joined the group. The stranger was talking, but Zach’s headache prevented him from focusing on the words. Zach looked around — the windows and doorways were filled with people he knew — some who had teased him or cursed his father. But now they were all smiling, and all of them straining to hear every word the stranger spoke. As evening approached, candles were lit, and food was passed around.
Just as Zach’s headache had subsided, his father Zacchaeus stood up, held the two ledgers in his hands, and said, “Look, Lord! Here and now, I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.”1
The crowd gasped at his father’s statement. Then Zach, without a thought or hesitation, jumped to his feet, pumped his fists in the air and yelled out, “That’s my dad!”
In the embarrassing silence that followed, Zach felt all eyes on him, but before he could do or say anything, he felt the arms of Jesus wrapping around him, and a broad smile broke across Zach’s face. He began laughing, then Jesus began laughing, then everyone was laughing. At that moment, a strange but gentle wind swirled through the house and lifted the sound of that laughter up into heaven.
- Luke 19:8, NIV ↩︎
About the Author
Michael W. Mann has been writing short stories for many years, sharing them with family, friends, and coworkers. He’s turning 70 this year and decided it’s high time to submit his writing for publication. His first story to be published (“Buddy & Buster”) appeared in the spring 2025 issue of Pure In Heart. He writes from Kansas City, and enjoys crafting both stories and woodworking projects.
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