Whirlwind

43

Lancaster, Texas

I was so close to Caleb at that motel.

Jenna could almost feel her baby boy, almost smell him and taste the sweetness of his cheek. How she ached to hold him in her arms again. She’d been awake most of the night in their room at the Embassy Suites, watching over Cassie and Blake and staring out the window into the night.

Caleb’s out there. Please keep him safe. I need him back. Please.

Yesterday, they’d come so close to catching that sick, scheming red-haired woman and her boyfriend at the motel. Now, in the hour before dawn, Jenna prayed with each passing minute for her phone to ring with news from the FBI, Kate or Frank. From anybody.

She’d lost her mind at the motel to fear, to anger and panic before FBI Agents Grogan and Quinn took her and Blake inside and told them all that they could.

Grogan said that the motel manager had called 911 because he was certain a man and woman with a baby, fitting the descriptions reported in the press, were guests. The Dallas SWAT team took action, but the people remained at large. The FBI’s crime-scene experts were processing the room, which would take time. It was challenging because a motel staffer had cleaned it thoroughly. The FBI was continuing its investigation.

“We know this is difficult for you, but I give you my word we’ll keep you updated,” Grogan said. “But our primary focus is taking immediate action on valid leads in order to find Caleb and return him home safe to you.”

Not long after the sun rose, Jenna was oblivious to the sounds of Holly and Garrett rising in the next room. She barely noticed Blake and Cassie getting up and dressing, then the smell of coffee and scrambled eggs.

“Jen, we got you some breakfast from downstairs,” Holly said.

“You’re not sleeping and you’re not eating,” Blake said. “Come on, hon. Have something.”

“I can’t,” she said. “I can’t.”

“I’m sad, too, Mommy. Just take one bite,” Cassie said, using a line Jenna had used on her when she fussed over food.

“Please, Jen,” Blake said before his cell phone rang and he answered. “Hey, Doug,. Yeah…thanks. We’re doin’ our best. Thanks… No, go ahead… Really? Now, today? Okay, thanks.”

Blake hung up then turned to Jenna as Holly and Garrett joined them.

“What is it?” Jenna asked.

“That was Doug Carlin, our neighbor. We have to go to our house.”

Since the storm and Caleb’s disappearance, Jenna had not been to their home. It was gone, and her attention was on Caleb.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why? Why do we need to go now?

“Doug said there are officials in our neighborhood and there are deadlines this morning for permits and insurance.”

“No,” Jenna said. “I don’t care. Without Caleb we don’t have a home. Our home is here.” Jenna jabbed her thumb to her heart. “Where we are. And we’ll put it back together when we have him.”

“Jen.” Blake got down on one knee before her. “I know. We all want Caleb back more than anything. But we have to go. They need both our signatures and there are things there we’ll want to keep, things belonging to Caleb.”

Tears streamed down Jenna’s face, then she felt the small strong warmth of Cassie’s arms around her.

“Don’t cry, Mommy.”

Garrett and Blake sat up front in the rented SUV.

Jenna and Holly sat in the back holding Cassie’s hands as they drove to the south end of the Metroplex and into Lancaster.

They lived in One Mile River estates, a family neighborhood of modest bungalows on curving kid-friendly streets sheltered by tall green ash and cottonwoods. But Jenna’s first thought when they neared One Mile was that they’d taken a wrong turn.

This isn’t it.

She couldn’t recognize the community. Everything was flattened.

A Lancaster police car and a couple of city emergency vehicles were posted at a barricade blocking the entrance to the street where Jenna and Blake lived. Beyond it, nothing but a wasteland of rubble.

“Sorry,” a police officer said. “Access is restricted. Only residents with permits can enter, or emergency people or press.”

“My wife and I are residents,” Blake said.

“Okay, then this is what you’ll have to do.”

Blake had to show acceptable proof of residency, such as his driver’s license, to a city official in a truck nearby. The official issued the Coopers a temporary permit for access to their address and advised them to assess and record the damage. Other officials in fluorescent vests emerged and directed them on recovery, noting that most insurance companies had adjusters on-site. There was talk about inspections, the replacement process, applying for living expenses, insurance forms, requirements, deadlines and all available services from groups like the Red Cross and the Salvation Army.

“There’s no gas, no water and no electricity, so make sure you have flashlights and your cell phones are charged,” one official said. “And as you see on the permit, there’s a curfew.”

Garrett had thought to bring a flashlight if they needed it. Blake had ensured they charged phones at night at the hotel. Once they were set, they began walking in but had trouble locating their home.

Their neighborhood was obliterated, street signs and landmarks were gone. The trees had been shredded, stripped, uprooted, leaving jagged pronglike branches spearing the sky, reminiscent of images found in footage of a war zone.

Cars had been flipped and crumpled, like emptied soda cans, roofs had been torn from houses; some homes were severed, exposing bedrooms, living rooms, bathrooms. Furniture had been tossed to lawns that resembled landfill sites with debris everywhere. The air smelled of damp earth, garbage, backed-up sewers and loss.

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.