…Tamar held Shai’s hand and pulled him after her. He got up heavily. Dinka leaped, confused, between the legs of the mob. Tamar yelled at Shai: “Run!” He was walking, moving too slowly, as if he were trying to get caught. Dinka stood, barking loudly, and Tamar called to her, hoping she would run after her. The square was electric; people were storming all around them, running in every direction. Tamar heard police whistles, then a siren. They ran. That is, she ran, and Shai was trying; after ten steps, he began to gasp for breath. She took the guitar from him – she thought she heard steps in the footsteps her. She ran, praying her message had reached Leah, that the kind man hadn’t screwed everything up – but when she glanced at Shai, she thought that in his condition, he wouldn’t even make it to the end of the street. His face had gone yellow, was bathed in sweat. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, we’re right there, another half a block, just a little farther…”

But he couldn’t do it; he groaned, and spit up dark phlegm; he wasn’t running any longer, walking instead, stumbling over his own legs. “You run, I’m finished, run away.” “Don’t do this! Don’t you dare!” she practically yelled. People watched the odd couple – a small girl with short hair with a much taller boy who looked terribly ill.