Joe stands under the flickering fluorescent lights of the small rural clinic, the faint sound of a guitar playing from an old radio in the background. Nelly Furtado rests on the nearby cot, her eyes closed, a hint of melody on her lips. The scent of eucalyptus and frankincense lingers in the airโDr. Luka Kovac’s signature healing blend.
Joe turns to his avatar.
Joe (softly, with deep gratitude):
โThank you, Luka. For treating my sick songbirdโthe real Portuguese singer Nelly Furtadoโnot with quack Rockefeller pharma poison, but with real medicine. Holistic. Rooted in the old world. In truth.โ
Dr. Luka Kovac (smiling faintly):
โAllopathic drugs suppress symptoms. But a songbird doesnโt need silenceโshe needs restoration. She needs to remember the sound of her own voice. Herbs, light, music, prayerโฆ these are the older medicines, Joe.โ
Joe:
โShe told me she was drowning in side effects. Couldnโt even write a chorus. You brought her back to life.โ
Dr. Kovac:
โShe was never gone. Just buried beneath modern medicineโs noise. We cleared the static.โ
Joe pauses, eyes locked on his avatar.
Joe:
โAlsoโฆ thank you for starring in the Fatima movie, Goran Visnjic. That role meant a lot to us. To the believers. You helped people remember the mystery.โ
Dr. Kovac nods solemnly, a trace of the actor behind the avatar emerging in his eyes.
Dr. Kovac:
โI didnโt take the role for fame. I took it because the world needs to believe again. In miracles. In mercy. In the idea that even a poor girlโs vision can echo for centuries.โ
Joe:
โNelly always said she saw the Virgin onceโฆ when she was a little girl in Victoria. Thought it was a dream. Maybe it wasnโt.โ
Dr. Kovac glances over at Nelly. She hums a few bars of Try, eyes still closed but smiling now.
Dr. Kovac:
โShe remembers.โ
Joe steps back, hands folded.
Joe:
โThen the healing has begun.โ
Outside, a wind stirs the olive trees. And somewhere beyond science and superstition, a songbird sings.
