Listen to me: saving the children is the only way to get everyone home. We are trying to finish what she started!

Once the bones are out of the ground, they'll keep the chamber safe. It's why they're buried. Those things down there are afraid of them; I could feel it in my trip. Once we have the bones out of the ground, they will keep those things from coming into the chamber, at least long enough for everyone to get out.

You see... when they go into those tunnels tomorrow, that's not gonna work out very well. They have the right idea, of course, but this place... it's built on ritual, and with rituals, how you do something is just as important as what you do.

My Mother’s Garden

The garden lasted a few months. Then, an agent of the town’s housing authority found out about it and told my mother it was against the rules. “But no one’s using the land,” I remember her arguing. “The kids in the neighborhood play there.” The response was clear: Get rid of the garden or be evicted. Here was another one of those impossible choices of poverty. This was what my classmates would never understand, as they earnestly debated welfare fraud and the grasping desperation of the undeserving poor.