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And she began screaming hysterically. Elijah took her by the arms and shoved her aside, for the noise she was making prevented his hearing the widow's moans. Everything around him was total destruction--the roof and walls had collapsed, and it was difficult to recognize where he had last seen her. The flames had died down but the heat was still unbearable; he stepped over the rubble covering the floor and went toward the place where the woman's bedroom had been.
Despite the confusion outside, he was able to make out a moan. It was her voice.
He instinctively shook the dust from his garments, as if trying to improve his appearance. He remained silent, trying to concentrate. He heard the crackling of the fire, the cries for help from people buried in the neighboring houses, and felt the urge to tell them to be silent because he must discover where the woman and her son were. After a long time, he heard the sound again; someone was scratching on the wood beneath his feet.
He fell to his knees and began digging like one possessed. He removed the dirt, stones, and wood. Finally, his hand touched something warm: it was blood.
"Please, don't die," he said.
"Leave the rubble over me," he heard her voice say. "I don't want you to see my face. Go and help my son."
He continued to dig, and she repeated, "Go and find the body of my son. Please, do as I ask."
Elijah's head fell against his chest, and he began weeping softly.
"I don't know where he's buried," he said. "Please, don't go; how I long to have you remain with me. I need you to teach me how to love; my heart is ready now."
"Before you arrived, for so many years I called out to death. It must have heard and come looking for me."
She moaned. Elijah bit his lips but said nothing. Someone touched his shoulder.
Startled, he turned and saw the boy. He was covered with dust and soot but appeared unhurt.
"Where is my mother?" he asked.
"I'm here, my son," answered the voice from beneath the ruins. "Are you injured?"
The boy began to cry. Elijah took him in his arms.
"You're crying, my son," said the voice, ever weaker. "Don't do that. Your mother took a long time to learn that life has meaning; I hope I have been able to teach it to you. In what condition is the city where you were born?"
Elijah and the boy remained silent, each clinging to the other.
"It's fine," Elijah lied. "A few warriors died, but the Assyrians have withdrawn. They were after the governor, to avenge the death of one of their generals."
Again, silence. And again her voice, still weaker than before.
"Tell me that my city is safe."
He knew that she would be gone at any moment.
"The city is whole. And your son is well."
"What about you?"
"I have survived."
He knew that with these words he was liberating her soul and allowing her to die in peace.
"Ask my son to kneel," the woman said after a time. "And I want you to swear to me, in the name of the Lord thy God."
"Whatever you want. Anything that you want."
"You once told me that the Lord is everywhere, and I believed you. You said that souls don't go to the top of the Fifth Mountain, and I also believed what you said. But you didn't explain where they go.
"This is the oath: you two will not weep for me, and each will take care of the other until the Lord allows each of you to follow his path. From this moment on, my soul will become one with all I have known on this earth: I am the valley, the mountains that surround it, the city, the people walking in its streets. I am its wounded and its beggars, its soldiers, its priests, its merchants, its nobles. I am the ground that they tread, and the well that slakes each one's thirst.
"Don't weep for me, for there is no reason to be sad. From this moment on, I am Akbar, and the city is beautiful."
