7

Sondra Chaffin wants to thank all those who found homes for her daughter's pets after her daughter's tragic death. "I'm thankful to announce that Happy Girl was placed with a woman in my Sunday school class who had been praying for a new dog since the death of her June Bug in the winter." Donations to the animal shelter of your choice would be greatly appreciated.

—The Green News-Item

Green needed a miracle.

The late afternoon sunlight lit my office with a golden glow, and I abandoned the writing tablet on my desk and walked to the window, gazing sadly at the broken trees and noticing debris on the roof of the building next door.

It seemed as though a week had passed since my wedding, but I hadn't even made it through one full day.

"Good news. Good news. Good news. Lord, bring us some good news," I said out loud.

"Amen," a voice said behind me. I jumped and turned sheepishly to see Pastor Jean, in one of her trademark souvenir sweatshirts, this one from San Antonio.

"A miracle!" I said with a laugh, trying to act as though I had not been standing at the window talking to myself. "How'd you know I needed you right this very minute?"

"I could tell you it was a heavenly hunch," she said, "but I ran into your new husband out on Route Two. He mentioned you could use a visit."

Chris. Now there was a miracle, for sure. I reached down to touch my wedding band.

"He's on chain-saw duty with his brothers and hopes to see you in time for supper," Jean said. "They've cleared a sizable number of fallen trees, which sure makes driving a lot easier."

"If there's a silver lining to this storm, it's the right to use power tools with abandon," I said. "I've never seen a group of men more eager to get out and cut something up."

"Chris did have another message for you," Jean said with a smile. "He leaned in my car window and said, 'Tell my wife I love her.' I think he was afraid the other guys would hear him.He practically scampered back to work."

"Now that's the kind of news I like." I smiled at the idea of Chris scampering anywhere. "I hoped he'd get back here in time to drive me around town. I left my car at the church and I've been so busy with the paper that I haven't gotten out for a good look."

"I was also supposed to tell you that Chris loaned your car to Mr. Marcus," Jean said. "His truck was smashed by a tree, which also clobbered their house. He needs it to make arrangements for Levi and to help the people in his neighborhood association."

"Do you have time to take a tour?" I asked. "I need to get out of this building."

"I can check on church members while we're at it. Let's go."

"Can we drive to the hospital and see Kevin?" I asked. "And Anna Grace? Maybe by the courthouse for an update?"

"I'm at your disposal," Jean said.

I stuck my head in the newsroom where Molly sat at the computer at Tom's desk, Holly Beth chewing on her shoe while the girl concentrated on the screen. "I'm practicing headlines," she said, "and working on suggestions for tomorrow's front page. Everyone else is out."

"Don't you need to go home?" I asked.

"Linda and I are going back to Shreveport to do the production work," she said. "It's easier that way. That hotel room was super nice, but we're going to Walt's tonight. He says we can set up a newsroom on his dining table."

"I thought we were going to use the computer over at the command center."

"All those other reporters keep shoving us away." Molly frowned. "We are now in a sort of 'pool,' whatever that means, and we have to take turns."

"A pool? How many people are over there?"

"At least fifty," she said. "There are TV crews, reporters, and photographers from New Orleans and Baton Rouge and Shreveport and Alexandria, even Dallas and Houston. You've never seen such a zoo."

"Where's Linda?"

"She went to check on her parents," Molly said. "Everything's under control."

"Right." I bent to pet Holly Beth. "Can you keep the puppy till I get back?"

"Sure, if you'll buy me a new pair of shoes." Molly smiled and scooped up my dog.

Jean and I got in her car, squeezed next to the curb. My lot was filled with an assortment of vehicles I didn't recognize. As we drove off, a handsome young reporter interviewed Katy, who gestured wildly with her hands and smiled as though she were a broadcast veteran.

"Don't they know she's only seventeen?" I snapped. "They need her parents' permission to talk to her like that."

"And that young woman you left running the newsroom is how old?" Jean asked, shooting me her preacher look.

"OK, so I've got a double standard. You knew that when you invited me for this ride. Let's get out of here."

As we drove, I gasped and exclaimed so often that in any other situation I would have felt redundant. I had seen Tammy's photographs and the marked up maps at the courthouse, so I knew in my mind how bad the damage was. Seeing it with my own eyes overwhelmed me.

Pastor Mali from the Methodist church was unloading a van full of supplies as we passed, a couple of men I recognized from the Green Forward group helping him.

Jean slowed, so we could speak.

"We're putting together supply kits," Mali said. "Do you need any out your way?"

"We need dozens," Jean said, "but most of our able-bodied members are tied up on other projects. I don't think I can send anyone to help."

"We're helping each other," he said. "I'll have someone deliver them to your church, if you can pass them out."

A small miracle, I thought, as we drove away.

"Look at the steeple off the Baptist church," Jean said. "It's on Major Wilson's real estate office."

"Now that's a storm with a sense of irony."

Jean wanted to stop at the Lakeside Motel to check on little Asa and see what we might do to help. I hoped to confirm there was room for me and Chris for the next few weeks.

"Shhh," Pearl said as we walked into the office. "I just got him to sleep." Asa lay in a portable crib, and his grandmother stood behind the counter in the spot where I met her when I moved to Green, an attractive African American woman who had a spirit as beautiful as her elegant face.

She left the door ajar as we stepped outside and settled into plastic Adirondack chairs that dotted the premises. Pearl put the baby monitor on her chair arm.

"We can't stay long," I said, my mind unable to settle on one thing for more than a few minutes.

"I was so very sad to hear about Levi," Jean said.

I felt ashamed and moved to the arm of Pearl's chair. "I am, too."

"It's been one of the hardest things we've ever gone through," Pearl said. "Levi was an extraordinary gentleman. Marcus and I had come to think of him as family. It has hit Kevin especially hard, knowing he loved Asa so dearly."

"Have you talked to her lately?" I asked.

"She can't leave the hospital," Pearl said, "but she sent word to bring Asa over this morning. She needed to see with her own eyes that he was OK. It was a miracle, really. His Papa Levi saved his life."

A miracle.

"We'll head over to the hospital and check on Kevin," I said." Does she need food or anything?"

"Terrence took her lunch before heading back out to help Marcus. He's a fine man, and the Lord sent him along at the right time."

Jean and I made it to the hospital on the newer side of town after a series of detours that included bypassing police roadblocks, tree limbs, and an odd assortment of items scattered here and there. The traffic crawled, a combination of service vehicles and what looked like curiosity seekers, many taking pictures.

A volunteer officer tried to keep us from turning down a residential street, an exasperated look on his face and sweat on his forehead.

"Clergy," Jean said.

"Press," I said.

He took a closer look. "Go on through, but watch out for debris in the street."

"Don't these rubberneckers have anything else to do?" I asked Jean. "They could be helping instead of getting in the way."

"People are drawn to tragedy," she said. "They hear so many bad reports that it's hard for them to listen to good news. Many of these cars carry people who are thinking that were it not for the grace of God, it could have been them."

"Do you have to be nice about everything?"

"I'm just glad I have my own parking place at the hospital," she said.

As she predicted, the hospital lot was full and the lobby had been transformed into a camp with bedding and miscellaneous clothing strewn everywhere. People huddled in clusters, some crying and others glued to the generatorpowered television.

"I'll stop here for a while," Jean said. "It looks like there's a mighty need for prayer in this room."

I found Kevin in a discussion with a family at a nurse's station on the second floor. Her lab coat was spotless and her beautiful dark hair pulled back. She held up a finger. "One moment, Lois," she said." Her eyes looked tired, and her voice sounded raw.

Sitting in a chair in a nearby waiting room, I watched a steady stream of patients, medical personnel, and visitors come by. Instead of a gloomy atmosphere, there was a brisk efficiency about everyone, almost matter-of-fact.

"Lois, is that you?" A woman's weak voice greeted me, and I turned to see Anna Grace being wheeled down the hall on a gurney by a young woman and man with "Hospital Volunteer" vests on.

"Anna Grace!" I ran to the bed and leaned in to hug her.

"Careful, ma'am," the man said.

"Nonsense," my food correspondent said. "I need a hug more than I need medicine."

"How are you?" I embraced her.

"Much better," she said. "They're moving me to another room so they can take care of those who aren't doing as well.Your wedding saved my life."

"Saved your life? You had a heart attack," I said.

"My house was demolished," she said. "I would have been on the couch reading a cookbook and blown away right along with it. It's a miracle."

A miracle.

"I never did get a piece of that wedding cake, though," she said. "Was it too dry?"

I thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. I never got a piece either."

"I'll make you another one," she said, "when I get out of this place."

"Get well," I called as they wheeled her down the room, narrowly avoiding a metal trash can and a line of cots that had been set up in the hall.

Each time Kevin tried to walk over to me, someone demanded her attention with a form to sign, a tearful exchange of words, an apparent discussion of one medication over another. I finally gently tugged on her arm.

"Come with me, friend. Just for a few minutes."

"I can't, Lois. Everyone needs something. I can't desert them."

"I see your partner down the hall," I said, "and there are two nurses behind you. You're not going to be a bit of use if you keel over from exhaustion."

I pulled harder on her arm. "Let me buy you a cup of coffee."

"We won't be able to talk in the cafeteria," she said. "People even follow me into the bathroom."

"Let's try this then." I opened the door to a small supply closet. "Charmingly intimate, don't you think?" I wanted so much to bring a smile to her face.

She sank onto the hard tile as though it were a pillow-top mattress and propped her head against a shelf full of white sheets. I sat next to her.

"Have you seen Asa?" she asked.

"He was sound asleep, and your mother said he didn't realize anything was wrong. He looked adorable, as usual."

"That's a blessing. He'll learn soon enough how hard life is."

Her tone sounded bitter, reminding me of the days when bureaucracy nearly kept her from adopting Asa.

"Asa has a good life." I scooted closer. She leaned her head on my shoulder.

"His mother and sisters died in a house fire that nearly took his life and critically injured his grandfather. Now that dear man has been killed brutally in a tornado. Doesn't sound that good to me."

"He has a loving mother who will always take care of him, a mother who is saving lives today."

"I should have taken him to the wedding with me," she said, a tear rolling down her face. "He would have been safe.Instead I'm out on a date while my baby nearly gets killed."

"Kevin, you had no way of knowing."

"Did you hear what happened when Terrence found Levi, right before he died?"

I shook my head.

"Levi raised his arm, pointed toward the bathroom, and said 'Asa?' " Terrence assured him Asa was fine, and Papa Levi said, 'Going home.' And he died."

Kevin's lip trembled, and I hugged her with the tight grip of friendship. "He was at peace because Asa is in the best hands," I said.

"I've got to get back to work." She rose with a groan. "I saw the extra edition of the Item. Very impressive. The how-to-gethelp piece provided a big service, and we've had at least two dozen medical volunteers come to town in response to your Internet postings."

We stood close and both cried for a moment. "Tell Mama I'll try to get home in the morning. I need to rock my baby."

"You know he'll want you to run around the yard with him," I said.

Someone knocked on the door and opened it tentatively."Dr. Kevin, are you in there?" a woman's voice said. "We need you in Room 207."

Jean and I stopped at the command center next. Emergency vehicles from nearby towns and parishes and media vans filled the courthouse parking lot.

The basement was packed, and I noticed Linda arguing with the police chief, a rugged-looking man in his forties, near the front of the room. The air almost crackled around them.An unknown person was working on an Item laptop at the desk in the back of the room.

"I'm going to talk to Eva," Jean said. "Then I'll head back to the church to figure out the next step."

"If you run into Chris again, tell him I'm doing fine. Please remind him to check on Joe Sepulvado, the produce guy. We haven't had a chance to get by their travel trailer."

A small frown crossed her face. "Now that you mention it, I haven't seen Joe," she said, adding his name to a long list in her hand, some checked off, a dozen with question marks.

I approached Linda and the chief, their voices low but angry."Everything OK?" I asked.

"No," Linda said.

"Yes," Doug said at the same time.

"He doesn't want to release the names of the confirmed dead," Linda said. "Nor those who are missing. We can help locate people if he'll work with us."

"People have a right to hear this personally," the chief said, "not through the media."

"Wouldn't you rather they know than be left to wonder and worry?" Linda asked.

Doug mumbled something under his breath.

"He says if he gives them to us, he has to give them to everyone," Linda said. "He doesn't trust the others to handle this with sympathy."

"The outside media's sensationalizing this for their own gain," Doug said. "Some of them act excited when they learn another lurid tidbit. I can't risk letting them have the names."

"Chief, they'll get them through you or they'll piece them together," I said. "If they make a list, they're sure to get names wrong. Think how tragic that could be."

"If I never see another reporter that will be all right with me," he muttered. "Present company included." And he stalked off.

"That went well," I said.

"He'll come around," Linda said. "Cops like to be in control.This is about as out of control as you can be."

"I didn't think I had anything in common with that man, but I feel the same way."

Within a few minutes, the chief slipped Linda the updated list of confirmed dead and those missing. "I'll give you a twenty-minute head start," he said. "Then it goes to everyone.And this better remain between us."

After making a copy of the names, I got into a fight with an out-of-town reporter sitting at what was now called the media desk, and I thought of physically pushing her out of the chair.

"We need to work here," I said.

"What does it look like I'm doing, planning a vacation?" she asked, her eyes on the screen of my computer.

I reached over her shoulder, hit save, and snapped the computer shut. "That's my laptop," I said.

She looked up at me with what could only be described as fury. Her mouth opened, and I waited for the showdown.

"Lois?" her voice sounded incredulous. "Lois Barker?"

"Lois Craig." I searched through my scrambled brain for an idea of who this woman was. She was a few years younger than me and had on a designer watch, chic glasses, and an expensive shirt I recognized from a catalog. Her shoulder-length hair was pushed back by a leather headband.

"Gina Stonecash. Post Media News Service. We met at that meeting on education coverage right before you left the company."

"Gina." I remembered a room full of Gina clones, all eager to show the corporate V.P. how much they knew. "What in the world are you doing here?"

"Covering the biggest breaking news story in the country," she said. "You, too?"

"You might say that. I own the local newspaper."

"You're that tough lady journalist everyone's talking about?" Gina asked, her eyes wide.

"Lois?" Linda walked up behind me and nudged me. "The clock's running. I need the computer."

"Gina, let me introduce you to a terrific reporter, Linda Murphy. Would you like to walk over and see our newsroom?"

Linda slipped into the chair almost before Gina was out of it, and I waved to Jean and Eva as we walked out. Heading across the street, I smiled to think that we were beating the competition, which included the corporation I used to work for.

"You're whipping everyone with online updates," Gina said."Not to mention those community correspondents. Their perspective is a pleasure to read. Where in the world do you come up with those people? Zach's already nagging me to set up a national network like that."

"Zach? As in my former boss? The editor in Dayton?"

"Former editor. He got promoted to corporate, works in D.C.now. Funny that he didn't mention you were down here."

"We didn't part on the best of terms." I led her through the labyrinth of the parking lot.

"Ta da," I said, with more than a hint of pride. "The Green News-Item."

"You own this? For real?"

"Mostly for real. The bank has a share, and the employees are co-owners. But I get to sign the checks."

"I vaguely remember something about this," Gina said."Didn't that managing editor who died leave it to you?"

"My friend Ed. He planned to retire down here and run it, but he lost a fight with leukemia. I had no intention of moving to rural North Louisiana, but apparently God had other plans."

"God?" Gina said. "As I recall, you used to be a devoted follower of Post Media. There's life outside the corporate grind?"

"Miracle of miracles, there is. Green is a great place to live."

"Did you say earlier that your name is Lois Craig now?" She glanced at my hand. "When did you get married?"

"Last night."