Love Is the Higher Law Read Free

first reaction. And then I think about all the people inside. There must have been people inside.
    When we get to Sixth Avenue, I feel like I’m in one of those myths where the one thing the woman can’t do is turn around and see what’s behind her. I am holding Sammy’s hand and this girl Lizzie’s hand, following Mrs. Lawson, and all I can think is, Don’t look back . If I turn around, Sammy and Lizzie will also turn around. If I turn around, they will see it. If I turn around, I may disintegrate.
    The street is jammed with people walking north. Some were clearly close to the towers, since the smoke and the dust cling to their skin and their clothes.
    “What happened to them?” Sammy asks, and I don’t know what to say. I can’t even think of a good lie. So I treat it like he’sasked a different question and tell him we’re almost there, even though we still have five blocks to go. I wish I was still at the age when I needed explanations, and would receive better versions than the truth whenever I asked.
    The only time I’ve seen this many people on Sixth Avenue has been for the Halloween Parade. I am amazed at how respectful everyone is. There are skyscrapers collapsing behind us, and nobody is pushing, nobody is yelling. When people see we’re a school group, they’re careful not to separate us. Stores are not only giving away sneakers, but some are handing out water to people who need it. You’d think they’d take advantage and raise the price. But no. That’s not what happens.
    I am looking everywhere for familiar faces. There’s a small line of people moving against the march, weaving their way downtown. There’s no mistaking their purpose as they push forward. Every single one of them has a reason. It must be someone they love. Or a desire to help.
    Don’t look back , I remind myself. Don’t look back .
    I hear my name called out —“Claire!” —then Sammy’s. He’s quicker to react.
    “Mom!” he yells. He stops walking, pulling me and Lizzie to a halt. And then she’s running over, and Sammy lets go of me, and it’s okay because Mom is right there, and we’re slowing up the line, and Mrs. Lawson is getting farther ahead, so my first words to Mom are “We have to keep walking.” She doesn’t question this. She is crying to see us, and this is the first time I’ve ever seen her crying to see us, and she’s practically carryingSammy even though he’s too big to carry anymore, and she’s telling us how happy she is to have found us, and how hard it was. She had to walk all the way from Eighty-ninth Street on the East Side because she had a meeting there, and as soon as she can, she’s going to buy all of us cell phones. And what I want to shout is I thought you were dead , but not in front of Sammy or poor Lizzie, who I don’t even know, whose parents still aren’t here. I explain to Mom why we’re walking north; she nods, and I get a good look at her—she’s holding it together, too, and I want to tell her she doesn’t have to do that for me, because I might not be able to do it for her. I can tell she’s also trying not to look back, but she does it—she looks over her shoulder—and the tears won’t leave her eyes.
    “It’s so horrible,” she says. “I hope you didn’t see …”
    And I think, What didn’t I see?
    Later that night, after Sammy is asleep, we piece it together, mapping out our day against the news. We are in an apartment on Eighteenth Street where Mom’s friends Ted and Lia live. I was friends with their daughter, Rana, when I was little, but Rana is away at college now. Mom, Ted, Lia, and I watch CNN at midnight as they give us the chronology of what happened.
    While I was holding Sammy’s hand and Lizzie’s hand, while we were following Mrs. Lawson, the second tower fell. We were too far away to hear it or to feel the ground shake. If you weren’t watching—if you hadn’t turned back to look—there was no way to know. You could imagine they