Truth

Once, long ago or in the far future (it doesn't matter which), the
earth was covered in cities. The smoke from its production turned the
sky black, and the people labored under a red sun and knew little of
themselves and nothing of love.1

In the middle of this rotting city, in a small filthy apartment, lived
a boy and his mother. They were very poor, but nothing could harm them
(they thought), so long as they had each other.2

"But we will not always have each other," the mother said. "And this
is the first of the things I must teach you. Life is a series of
goodbyes. From the goodbye I said to you the day you were born, severed
from me, to the goodbye we say at death.3

"You will make friends, if you're unlucky; you will fall in love if
you're particularly so. And you will always say goodbye to your
friends; temporary goodbyes, some of them, but always leading to that
last, heart-wrending departure. And with your lover--you may be unified
to her, but only ever briefly, if at all. And that will make saying
goodbye to her the hardest of all.4

"We desire unity more as we grow older, and as we grow older we grow
inevitably farther apart."5

The boy was silent, staring at his mother, for he did not understand.6

The boy did make friends, as boys must. And perhaps because he wanted
to test the invincibility of his mother's wisdom, and perhaps because
boys are contrary by nature, he made the sort of friends his mother
had warned him not to make. They played in the garbage compactors,
they climbed and fought among the scaffolding at the top level of the
city. They shone toy laser beams through windows, at air-cars,
causing drivers to swerve and sway. It was this last that the police
caught them at, one bad night. They dragged the boy home, screaming,
to his mother.7

As soon as the police burst through the door she was there, to snatch
her son from their arms and shield him behind her.8

"Your son has been apprehended by the Law," said one policeman.9

"I see that," said the boy's mother.10

"The law demands recompense," intoned the policeman, starting toward the boy.11

"Hold," the mother said. She went to the kitchen, and took hold of a
meat cleaver, and chopped her own pointer finger off. She tossed it at
the policemen.12

One of them picked up the finger, studied it, and said, "The Law is
satisfied." The policemen left.13

The boy was at his mother's feet, screaming and writhing and crying in
his fear and anguish. The mother laid a hand on his head and he was
still. She calmly set about cauterizing the wound, saying,14

"Here is the second thing I must teach you.15

"You are sorry, yes, now that you have seen the consequences of your
actions. I ought not forgive you; I ought to claim your finger for
mine.16

"But I will not, for I love you. My father passed to me an ancient
wisdom which said, 'You may move mountains, you may command the deeps,
you may argue with angels and win; but if you know nothing of love, you
and your actions are as nothing."17

The boy stared at her as the tears dried on his cheeks, for he did not
understand.18

It is said to show and not tell, and the mother showed what she meant,
again and again as the boy grew up. And again and again, the boy
turned a blind eye and a deaf ear and a cold heart to her. He did not
understand.19

He could have understood, but he chose not to.20

Finally, the day came for the boy to leave; for him to depart and make
his own way in the world. His mother wept and prayed, prayed and wept;
but he looked on her coldly, and coldly he kissed her cheek and
departed.21

The boy rose in the world, and was successful, and surrounded himself
with friends. He was married to a woman he thought he loved.22

He moved mountains--demolished them and fed them into the sea, so that
the earth's cities might be more symmetrical. But of love, he knew
nothing.23

He commanded the deeps--he was soon able to raise and lower the sea
level at will, to command tides with the flickering of a finger. But
he didn't know what love was.24

And, when from the deep the angels came, rising to tower into the
atmosphere with their flickering swords held before their chests--he
argued with them. He argued his own case, and he won. The angels
submitted, and sank back into the deep.25

His friends were taken from him, however--killed, or moved away, or
simply abandoned him. His wife left him, for no reason at all. He went
back to the apartment where he'd grown up.26

His mother was not there; the new occupants told him where he might
find her. He went to the graveyard, and sunk to his knees before her
grave. The attendant came to him, to ask if there was aught he could
do.27

"Can you bring my mother back?" the boy said.28

"No."29

"If-if-if I died, might she live again?"30

"No."31

"Then how am I to live?"32

"I don't know."33

Then the boy bent upon his mother's grave and wept. For he understood what was love.