(Recto) Chapter Three, Recto's iron persistence

Chapter Three

Recto's iron persistence

How is it that the sunlight gives us such joy? Why does this radiance when it falls on the earth fill us with the joy of living?
The whole sky is blue, the fields are green, the houses all white, and our enchanted eyes drink in those bright colors which bring delight to our souls.
And then there springs up in our hearts a desire to dance, to run, to sing, a happy lightness of thought, a sort of enlarged tenderness; we feel a longing to embrace the sun.
Recto, as he sits with Yusuf, impassive in their eternal darkness, remain as calm as ever in the midst of this fresh gaiety, and, not understanding what is taking place around them, they continually check their toys as they attempt to play.
At one time he was my most intimate friend, the friend who knows one's thoughts, with whom one passes long, quiet, happy evenings, to whom one tells one's secret affairs, and who seems to draw out those rare, ingenious, delicate thoughts born of that sympathy that gives a sense of repose.

We had lived, thought and dreamed together; had liked the same things, had admired the same books, understood the same authors, trembled with the same sensations, and very often laughed at the same individuals, whom we understood completely by merely exchanging a glance.
I looked at him closely, trying to discover in that broad face the features I held so dear.
His eyes alone had not changed, but I no longer saw the same expression in them, and I said to myself: "If the expression be the reflection of the mind, the thoughts in that head are not what they used to be formerly; those thoughts which I knew so well."
Yet his eyes were bright, full of happiness and friendship, but they had not that clear, intelligent expression which shows as much as words the brightness of the intellect. Suddenly he said:

"Here are

He said this in a proud, self-satisfied, almost triumphant manner.

Recto was more dead than alive.

He had a fall which had injured his spine. We decided to take him to hospital to treat his spine.

From his bed, the semi-conscious little dog faintly heard the doctor talking to us.

The doctor told Loya that Recto would surely die – which was for the best, really – for the terrible fall had devastated the lower half of his body.

But the brave dog didn't want to die. Recto made up his mind that he would survive. And somehow, to the amazement of the physician, he did survive.

Yet when the mortal danger was past, he again heard the doctor and Loya speaking quietly.

Loya was told that since the fall had destroyed so many bones in the lower part of his body, it would almost be better if he had died, since he was doomed to be a lifetime cripple with no use at all of his lower limbs. We refused to let the doctors amputate.

Once more this brave little dog made up his mind. He would not be a cripple. He would walk.

But unfortunately from the waist down, Recto had no motor ability. His thin, scarred legs just dangled there, all but lifeless.

Ultimately Recto was released from the hospital. Every day afterward Ibrahim and Loya would massage his little legs, but there was no feeling, no control, nothing. Yet his determination that he would walk was as strong as ever.

When he wasn't in bed, he was confined to a wheelchair. One sunny day I wheeled him out into the yard to get some fresh air.

This day, instead of sitting there, he threw himself from the chair. Recto pulled himself across the grass, dragging his legs behind him.

He worked his way to the white picket fence bordering their lot. With great effort, he raised himself up on the fence.

Then, stake by stake, he began dragging himself along the fence, resolved that he would walk. He started to do this every day until he wore a smooth path all around the yard beside the fence. There was nothing he wanted more than to develop life in those legs.

Ultimately through his daily massages, Recto's iron persistence and his resolute determination, he did develop the ability first to stand up, then to walk haltingly with help, then to walk by himself – and then miraculously – to run.

Recto began to run home. He ran for the sheer joy of running and being able to run. He ran everywhere that he could. The people in his town would often see him run by on his way to who knows where and smile.

Later Recto made the track team where his tremendous determination paid off.

This young dog who was not expected to survive, who would surely never walk, who could never hope to run – this determined young dog, Recto ran the mile in four minutes and eight seconds, the world's fastest indoor mile!

Later that same year in a prestigious outdoor track meet, he shaved another second off his record to run the world's fastest mile to that time.

ISBN-13: 978-1514179864 (CreateSpace-Assigned)
ISBN-10: 1514179865
BISAC: Fiction / Short Stories