The Other Side of Miracles

The sun beat down and threatened to sap what little strength I had left. The dust from the road lifted from feet that rose and fell with a determined rhythm around me. I had to try one more time to get them to see the foolish scene they made. Jacob’s face grinned down at me as he took a hold of the side of my mat. Nathan right ahead of him released his hold and rotated his shoulder as he kept up the pace.
“Please, Jacob, tell them to take me home. I have things to do. I can’t go gallivanting across the  countryside because some teacher is in the area. I don’t care what people say about him. Nothing else has worked for me, why should he be any different?” Jacob winked and said nothing, saving his breath for the half running pace that carried them forward. His face was streaked with dirt and sweat and his robe was soaked with it. All their faces were the same, determined and grimly hopeful. I had given up that hope years ago soon after the accident. The heat and the steady rhythm of pounding feet made it easy to drift off into a half sleep.
I was a boy again, running with a bunch of friends after our chores were done. It was wonderful to feel my strong young legs stretch out and the blood pump hotly through my veins. I had forgotten what it felt like to fly across fields and rocky paths. I felt I could run forever, free and strong. The other boys were stopping in the shade of a fig tree. They were arguing about who should be the one to climb to fetch the ripe fruit at the very top. I wanted to scream that it was too dangerous, but the boy that I was wanted those figs more than any of them. I had no breakfast that morning and hunger was clawing at my belly. There hadn’t been enough to eat for so long. I would climb the tree if I got to eat the first fruit. The other boys were older and laughed at me for thinking I could climb that high.  
My rumbling stomach only made me more determined to prove them wrong and I climbed with a will. I was nearly to the top and I felt the fear in my stomach as the branch I was on swayed and bent under my weight. I clung with all my might, but the smell of the sweet ripe fruit just over my head filled me with desire. I knew I could reach it if I could just stretch a little bit more. My fingers brushed the fruit and they danced at the end of their branch. I forgot everything but my hunger and inched farther out on my branch. Just a little more. Just a little . . .  there was a crack and the sickening nothingness of free fall. I hit branch after branch, grabbing for anything to hold on to. There was nothing. Then there was pain. Searing pain. I can’t move, I can’t feel my legs. I can’t stop the tears. Then blackness.