Rick Mofina - Whirlwind

Jenna, Blake, Cassie, Holly and Garrett walked in silence, reverently observing neighbors picking through the aftermath to the rip-crack of plywood being smashed or moved, punctuated with soft weeping, then the subdued joy as someone recovered a treasure. “I found the box with Mom and Dad’s wedding rings!” or “I found the picture album!”

They came to their address.

Jenna and Blake stared at the heap that had been their home.

Jenna’s chin trembled. Blake pulled her and Cassie close as together they confronted the fact that their home was gone.

Garrett and Holly touched their shoulders in consolation. There was nothing to say and the small group stood in mourning for a long moment until a neighbor greeted them.

“I’m so damn sorry,” Doug Carlin, a seventy-year-old retired U.S. Marine Sergeant, said. “About Caleb, about your house. Bev and I have been asking the good Lord to step up to the plate for you, Blake.”

“Thanks, Doug,” he said, “and thanks for calling me.”

“We lost our place, too, and down the way-” Carlin pointed his wooden walking stick “-the McKinley’s and the Franklins didn’t make it. They were killed in the storm. We found Del and Sam in each other’s arms in the kitchen. The roof came down on them. This place got hit bad, no doubt about it.” Carlin glanced around. “I’ll let you get to it. You got my cell, I got yours. I’ll keep you posted on things here while you do what you gotta do to find your baby. God bless you, now.”

Jenna hugged him, and after Carlin left, Garrett asked Blake the name of their insurance company.

“I’ll head down the street and ask around to get an adjuster to come over and talk to you,” Garrett said.

“I got a card.” Blake reached for his wallet. “We just updated the policy last year, when we knew we- Well, when we knew we were having another child.”

Blake gave the card to Garrett then, after cautioning Cassie to be careful around the debris, Blake and Holly started sifting through it for valuables.

“KAY-leb!” Cassie crouched down and called into the wreckage for her baby brother. “Are you in there, KAY-leb!”

Jenna didn’t move.

This is our old life, she thought, the old life that I lived. The life I loved is gone-it’s never coming back. This life has stopped. It stopped the moment Caleb was taken from me. Our new life won’t start; it can’t start until I’m holding my baby again. I don’t care about the old house, about things. Finding Caleb and putting our family back together is what we have to do.

At that moment, Jenna’s heart skipped for she heard the familiar soft sound of Caleb’s rattle and turned.

“Look, Mommy!” Cassie held up the small yellow plastic ball by its handle. “I found Caleb’s rattle.”

Hearing it was balm for Jenna’s broken heart, and she swept Cassie up in her arms and kissed her. “Good work, sweetheart!”

“I think we should keep it for him for when we fix our home better.”

“I think so, too.”

Jenna turned to see Kate Page standing at the edge of the property.

Lancaster, Texas

Holding Cassie in her arms, Jenna remained subdued and took a few steps toward Kate.

“Do you have news about Caleb?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“How did you know we were here?”

“We didn’t.” Kate turned toward Mark Danson, the photographer who was approaching from shooting pictures across the street. “We came this morning for a feature on your neighborhood. You’d told me that you hadn’t been back here since everything happened.”

Blake’s face hardened at Kate’s presence, then he glanced at Jenna.

Danson arrived and upon reading the situation stood behind Kate, saying and doing nothing as the tension mounted.

It became unbearable until Kate spoke to break it. “We were down the street when I saw you here. Jenna, I’m so sorry about everything, about Caleb, your home, about what you said to me at the motel yesterday-it all went down so fast.”

Blake shook his head in slow disappointment.

“She’s just like the FBI, Jen.” Blake resumed picking through what remained of their house. “They’re not your friends. You can’t expect them to call you with information about our baby because it’s all a one-way street with them. They’re just doing their jobs. It’s what they get paid for.”

“It’s not like that, Blake,” Kate said. “Yes, I’m a reporter but I’m a parent, too. And I’ve lost-I lost someone close to me. I care more than you think, and I’m doing all I can to make sure everyone cares, so you can find Caleb. I don’t expect you to believe it, but it’s true and I want you to know that.”

Jenna stared at her, then set Cassie down. A strand of Jenna’s hair curtained over her face and she pushed it back.

“I know you care,” Jenna said. “I knew it when you found Caleb’s romper at the shelter. Because if you hadn’t done that-” her voice weakened “-we wouldn’t know anything. But I have a right to be angry. You let me down.”

“I’m sorry,” Kate said softly.

Jenna nodded.

After letting a moment pass, Kate said, “Will you talk to me a little bit for a story today?”

Blake looked at Kate then at his wife, who’d mournfully scanned the devastation while holding Caleb’s rattle in her hand.

“I keep thinking how I had his stroller. I was holding him but I let go.”

Blake went to her, took her shoulders. “Don’t do this, Jen. Don’t beat yourself up.” Blake shot an accusatory glance at Kate.

But Jenna maintained her composure and continued. “There’s only one thing I’ll say. Our home can be rebuilt but our lives can’t, not until we find our baby. And I beg the people who have him to please give him back to me.”

Kate wrote it down and, noticing the baby’s rattle, asked, “Is that Caleb’s?”

“Yes. Cassie found it here.”

Jenna looked at it before pressing it to her lips.

At that moment Kate heard Danson’s camera and knew that he had a compelling news picture: Jenna Cooper cherishing her missing baby’s toy while standing among the ruins of her home.

Dallas, Texas

“That’s the one.”

Mark Danson was previewing his photos while he and Kate sat in his Jeep before leaving the Coopers’ flattened neighborhood in Lancaster. He angled his camera to show her his favorite frame.

“It’s an emotional image,” he said. “What do you think?”

There was Jenna Cooper standing among the ruins of her home cherishing her missing baby’s toy rattle.

“Yes, it’s strong,” Kate said.

Danson started the motor and, as they made their way to the expressway, he sensed Kate was still shaky from talking with Jenna Cooper.

“You were good back there,” he said.

“What d’you mean?”

“How you got the mother to talk when she was clearly pissed at you over the motel business. It was a good act.”

“‘A good act.’ What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know.”

“No, I don’t know.”

“Come on. In this business we gotta say or do whatever it takes to get what we need. Her husband was right, covering tragedies the way we do is part of our job.”

“Pretending to care isn’t how I do things.”

“It’s the name of the game, come on.”

“God, Mark. Do you really think I’m that callous?”

Danson shrugged and switched on the radio, tuning it to a country station. Kate turned to the window, retreated into her thoughts and confronted the truth.

Danson may be an oaf, but he was partly right. Covering tragedies involved invading and exploiting the privacy of people at the most painful times of their lives, and Kate hated doing it. She always reached inside herself to be as honest, compassionate and professional as possible.