Recto (Recto Chapter Two The sunshine of Love)

Recto

Chapter Two

The sunshine of Love

The Recto’s dead mother lay cold and still amid her wretched children. Death touches the spring of her life.
This female dog had been despised, scoffed at, and angrily denounced by nearly every man, woman, and child in the village; but now, as the fact of her death was passed from lip to lip, in subdued tones, pity took the place of anger, and sorrow of denunciation.
Neighbors went hastily to the old tumble-down hut, in which the female dog had secured little more than a place of shelter from summer heats and winter cold: some with grave-clothes for a decent interment of the body; and some with food for the half-starving children, three in number.
Of these, Amigo The oldest, a boy of six, was a stout lad, able to earn his living with any farmer.
Delicada , between five and four, was bright, active girl, out of whom something clever might be made, if in good hands; but poor little Recto, the youngest, was one year hopelessly diseased. 
He had a fall which had injured his spine, and he had not been able to leave his bed since, except when lifted in the arms of his mother.
"What is to be done with the children?" That was the chief question now.
The dead mother would go underground, and be forever beyond all care or concern of the villagers. But the children must not be left to starve.
After considering the matter, and talking it over with his wife, farmer Samir said that he would take Amigo, and do well by him, now that his mother was out of the way; and Mrs. Tarek, who had been looking out for a bound girl, concluded that it would be charitable in her to make choice of Delicada, even though she was too young to be of much use for several years.
"I could do much better, I know," said Mrs. Tarek; "but as no one seems inclined to take her, I must act from a sense of duty expect to have trouble with the child; for she's an undisciplined thing--used to having her own way."
But no one said "I'll take Recto." Pitying glances were cast on his wan and wasted form and thoughts were troubled on his account. Mothers brought cast-off garments and, removing him soiled and ragged clothes, dressed him in clean attire.
The sad eyes and patient face of the little one touched many hearts, and even knocked at them for entrance. But none opened to take him in. Who wanted a bed-ridden little dog?
"Take him to the poorhouse," said a rough man, of whom the question "What's to be done with Recto?" was asked. "Nobody's going to be bothered with him."
"The poorhouse is a sad place for a sick and helpless little dog," answered one.
For a handicapped dog it will prove a blessed change, he will be kept clean, have healthy food, and be doctored, which is more than can be said of his past condition."
There was reason in that, but still it didn't satisfy. The day following the day of death was made the day of burial.
A few neighbors were at the miserable hovel, but none followed dead cart as it bore the dishonored remains to its pauper grave.
Farmer Samir, after the coffin was taken out, placed Amigo in his wagon and drove away, satisfied that he had done his part.
Mrs. Tarek spoke to Delicada with a hurried air, "Bid your brother good-bye," and drew the tearful children apart ere scarcely their lips had touched in a sobbing farewell.
Hastily others went out, some glancing at Recto, and some resolutely refraining from a look, until all had gone.
He was alone! Just beyond the threshold Ibrahim, the poor teacher, paused, and said to the blacksmith's wife, who was hastening off with the rest,--"It's a cruel thing to leave him so."
"Then take him to the poorhouse: he'll have to go there," answered the blacksmith's wife, springing away, and leaving Ibrahim behind.
For a little while the man stood with a puzzled air; then he turned back, and went into the hovel again.
Recto with painful effort, had raised himself to an upright position and was sitting on the bed, straining his eyes upon the door out of which all had just departed, A vague terror had come into his thin white face.
"O, Mr. Ibrahim!" he cried out, catching his suspended breath, "don't leave me here all alone!"
Though rough in exterior, Ibrahim, the poor teacher, had a heart, and it was very tender in some places. He liked dogs. "No, dear," he answered, in a kind voice, going to the bed, and stooping down over Recto, "You shan't be left here alone."
Then he wrapped him with the gentleness almost of a woman, in the clean bedclothes which some neighbor had brought; and, lifting him in his strong arms, bore him out into the air and across the field that lay between the hovel and his home.
Now, Ibrahim's wife Loya who happened to be with one child Yusuf, Loya was not a woman of saintly temper, nor much given to self-denial for others' good, and Ibrahim had well-grounded doubts touching the manner of greeting he should receive on his arrival.
Mrs. Ibrahim saw him approaching from the window, and with ruffling feathers met him a few paces from the door, as he opened the garden gate, and came in.
He bore a precious burden, and he felt it to be so. As his arms held the sick Recto to his breast, a sphere of tenderness went out from him, and penetrated his feelings.
A bond had already corded itself around them both, and love was springing into life.
"What have you there?" sharply questioned Mrs. Ibrahim.
Ibrahim, felt the child start and shrink against him. He did not reply, except by a look that was pleading and cautionary, that said, "Wait a moment for explanations, and be gentle;" and, passing in, carried Recto to the small chamber on the first floor, and laid him on a bed.
Then, stepping back, he shut the door, and stood face to face with his vinegar-tempered wife in the passage-way outside.
"You haven't brought home that sick brat!" Anger and astonishment were in the tones of Mrs. Ibrahim; her face was in a flame.
"I think women's hearts are sometimes very hard," said Ibrahim. Usually Ibrahim got out of his wife's way, or kept rigidly silent and non-combative when she fired up on any subject; it was with some surprise, therefore, that she now encountered a firmly-set countenance and a resolute pair of eyes.
"Women's hearts are not half so hard as men's!"
Ibrahim saw, by a quick intuition, that his resolute bearing had impressed his wife and he answered quickly, and with real indignation, "Be that as it may, every woman at the funeral turned her eyes steadily from the sick dog baby's face, and when the cart went off with his dead mother, hurried away, and left him alone in that old hut, with the sun not an hour in the sky."
"Where were Amigo and Delicada?" asked Mrs. Ibrahim.
"Farmer Samir tossed Amigo into his wagon, and drove off. Delicada   went home with Mrs. Tarek; but nobody wanted the poor sick one. 'Send him to the poorhouse,' was the cry."
"Why didn't you let him go, then. What did you bring him here for?"
"He can't walk to the poorhouse," said Ibrahim; "somebody's arms must carry him, and mine are strong enough for that task."
"Then why didn't you keep on? Why did you stop here?" demanded the wife.
"Because I'm not apt to go on fools' errands. The Guardians must first be seen, and a permit obtained."
There was no gainsaying this.
"When will you see the Guardians?" was asked, with irrepressible impatience.
"To-morrow."
"Why put it off till to-morrow? Go at once for the permit, and get the whole thing off of your hands to-night."
"Loya," said the poor teacher, with an impressiveness of tone that greatly subdued his wife, "I read in the Bible sometimes, and find much said about little dogs.
How the Savior blessed them; and how he said that 'whosoever gave them even a cup of water should not go unrewarded.'

The Prophet Muhamad (PBUH) is reported to have said: "Once a dog was going round the well and was about to die out of thirst.

A prostitute of Banu Israel happened to see it. So she took off her leather sock and lowered it into the well. She drew out some water and gave the dog to drink. She was forgiven on account of her action. Allah forgave her in appreciation of this act and admitted her to Paradise".

Loya said, “This emphasizes the importance of kindness to every creature, even animals, because Allah is pleased with such kindness.”

Now, it is a small thing for us to keep this poor motherless little one for a single night; to be kind to him for a single night; to make his life comfortable for a single night.

"The voice of the strong, rough man shook, and he turned his head away, so that the moisture in his eyes might not be seen. Mrs. Ibrahim did not answer, but a soft feeling crept into her heart.

"Look at him kindly, Loya; speak to him kindly," said Ibrahim. "Think of his dead mother, and the loneliness, the pain, the sorrow that must be on all his coming life." The softness of his heart gave unwonted eloquence to his lips.
Mrs. Ibrahim did not reply, but presently turned towards the little chamber where her husband had deposited Recto; and, pushing open the door, went quietly in.
Ibrahim did not follow; he saw that, her state had changed, and felt that it would be best to leave her alone with the Recto.
So he went to his school, which stood near the house. A light shining through the little chamber windows was the first object that attracted Ibrahim's attention on turning towards the house: it was a good omen.
The path led him by this windows and, when opposite, he could not help pausing to look in. It was now dark enough outside to screen him from observation.
Recto lay, a little raised on the pillow with the lamp shining full upon his face. Mrs. Ibrahim was sitting by the bed, talking to Recto; but her back was towards the window, so that her countenance was not seen.
From Recto's face, therefore, Ibrahim must read the character of their intercourse. He saw that his eyes were intently fixed upon his wife; that now and then a few words came, as if in answers from his lips; that his expression was sad and tender; but he saw nothing of bitterness or pain.
A deep-drawn breath was followed by one of relief, as a weight lifted itself from his heart.
On entering, Ibrahim did not go immediately to the little chamber. His heavy tread about the kitchen brought his wife somewhat hurriedly from the room where she had been with Recto.
Ibrahim thought it best not to refer to the little dog, nor to manifest any concern in regard to him.
"How soon will supper be ready?" he asked.
"Right soon," answered Loya, beginning to bustle about. There was no asperity in her voice.
After washing from his hands and face, Ibrahim left the kitchen, and went to the little bedroom.
A pair of bright eyes looked up at him from the bed; looked at him tenderly, gratefully, pleadingly. How his heart swelled in his bosom! With what a quicker motion came the heart-beats!
Ibrahim sat down, and now, for the first time, examining the thin frame carefully under the lamp light, saw that it was an attractive face, and full of a childish sweetness which suffering had not been able to obliterate.
"Your name is Recto?" he said, as he sat down and took his soft little hand in his.
"Yes, sir." His voice struck a chord that quivered in a low strain of music.
"Have you been sick long?"
"Yes, sir." What a sweet patience was in his tone!
"Has the doctor been to see you?"
"He used to come."
"But not lately?"
"No, sir."
"Have you any pain?"
"Sometimes, but not now."
"When had you pain?"
"This morning my side ached, and my back hurt when you carried me."
"It hurts you to be lifted or moved about?"
"Yes, sir."
"Your side doesn't ache now?"
"No, sir."
"Does it ache a great deal?"
"Yes, sir; but it hasn't ached any since I've been on this soft bed."
"The soft bed feels good."
"O, yes, sir--so good!" What  satisfaction, mingled with gratitude, was in his voice!
"Supper is ready," said Loya, looking into the room a little while afterwards.
Ibrahim glanced from his wife's face to that of Recto; she understood him, and answered,--
"He can wait until we are done; then I will bring him something to eat." There was an effort at indifference on the part of Mrs. Ibrahim, but her husband had seen her through the window, and understood that the coldness was assumed.
Ibrahim waited, after sitting down to the table, for his wife to introduce the subject uppermost in both of their thoughts; but she kept silent on that theme, for many minutes, and he maintained a like reserve. At last she said, abruptly,--
"What are you going to do with that little dog?"
"I thought you understood me that he was to go to the poorhouse," replied Ibrahim, as if surprised at her question.
Loya looked rather strangely at her husband for sonic moments, and then dropped her eyes. The subject was not again referred to during the meal.
At its close, Mrs. Ibrahim toasted a slice of bread, and softened it with milk and butter; adding to this some tea, she took them into Recto, and held the small tray, on which she had placed them, while the hungry dog ate with every sign of pleasure.
"Is it good?" asked: Loya, seeing with what a keen relish the food was taken.
Recto paused and answered with a look of gratitude that awoke to new life old human feelings which had been slumbering in her heart for half a score of years.
"We'll keep him a day or two longer; he is so weak and helpless," said Loya, in answer to her husband's remark, at breakfast-time on the next morning, that he must step down and see the Guardians of the Poor about Recto.
"He'll be so much in your way," said Ibrahim.
"I shan't mind that for a day or two. Poor thing!"
Ibrahim did not see the Guardians of the Poor dogs on that day, on the next, nor on the day following.

In fact, he never saw them at all on Recto's account, for in less than a week Loya would as soon leave thought of taking up him own abode in the almshouse as sending Recto there.
What light and blessing did that sick and helpless dog bring to the home of Ibrahim, the poor teacher!

It had been dark, and cold, and miserable there for a long time just because his wife had nothing to love and care for out of herself and so became sore, irritable, ill-tempered, and self-afflicting in the desolation of her woman's nature.
Now the sweetness of that sick dog, looking ever to her in love, patience, and gratitude, was as honey to her soul, and she carried him in her heart as well as in her arms, a precious burden.
She began to love her husband and her son Yusuf and all around her. As for Ibrahim, there was not a man in all the neighborhood who was sadder than he. Ibrahim’s family were very merry.
They felt that the sky was so blue, the sun was so bright, the water was so sparkling, the leaves were so green, the flowers were so lovely, and they heard such singing-birds and saw so many butteries, that everything was beautiful.

Love had come into his house, disguised as a sick, helpless, and miserable dog, and filled all its dreary chambers with the sunshine of love.

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