Trapped for six days, weak and confused, she cried out. “Ricky!”
Her former neighbor stopped in disbelief. “Mama Maria?”
“Is Ricky there?” Stronger. “I want to see Ricky.” Determined.
“Hold on, Mama Maria. We’re gonna get you!”
They worked with intensity and care, undeterred by the stench of death invading their nostrils.
As the shivering, sobbing old woman clung to one rescuer, another asked, “Who’s Ricky?”
“Her son,” the neighbor said. “Perished fighting a fire. Thirty years ago.”