The Glory of Green (7 page)

The meal was to the point, like most of our conversations since the tornado hit.

"The hard part for the
Item
starts today." I wiped grease from my mouth as I spoke.

"Are you telling us last night was easy?" Linda asked."Because if you are, I don't think I'm cut out for the newspaper business."

"The big breaking story is the easy part. Adrenaline flows, and we do what needs to be done. But this story won't be measured in hours; it will be counted in months, even years."

"We need a plan," Alex said. "I'm too old to stay up all night very often."

Tammy rolled her eyes. "Puh-lease. Since when did you get old?"

"Since the town blew away," he snapped.

Usually Tom would have jumped in here, either ramping up the argument or calming them down. I felt his loss keenly, even looked over my shoulder as though he might walk through the door.

"Will we put out a Tuesday paper as usual, or try for another one tomorrow?" Stan asked.

The thought of doing a Monday paper had not crossed my mind, and my spirits soared—then sank. The staff was exhausted after only a day, and we had spent a huge chunk of our minuscule budget on the extra. I looked around the table.

"Let's do another special edition," Katy said. "People need to know what's going on."

"I'll call our main advertisers and see if they'll sponsor it," Linda said. "It'll be a public service."

Molly had been resting her head on the table and looked up. "I can lay it out. School's out for spring break, and I don't have many hours at the Pak-N-Go."

"We're on the priority list for power, so we may luck out," Stan said.

"We have to pace ourselves," I said, "or each of you will burn out within a week. Tammy, organize a photo plan. Linda, list the correspondents and figure out how we can utilize them.Their voices are crucial. Iris Jo can figure out how we're going to pay for all this. Alex, go home and take a nap. See you back at seven p.m. Grab news nuggets anywhere you go."

We would not be outdone by out-of-town journalists thinking they could take over our turf.

I walked over to the command center in the middle of the afternoon to establish my presence as a journalistic force to be reckoned with. The air was crisp and clear, the sun shining. It was about as different from the night before as possible.

The mayor was sitting on a bench to the side of the courthouse, a baseball cap and oversized windbreaker on. Her dressy skirt stuck out from the hem of the jacket, and she had on three-inch pink heels. If I had not found Holly Beth in a tree the night before and seen my house blown away, the sight would have stunned me.

"Running from the law?" I asked, sitting down next to her.

"From the press," she said. "I had no idea you people could be so annoying."

"Sorry. Comes with the territory."

"They're reporting the most outrageous things I've ever heard," Eva said, "and making us look like a cross between
The Beverly Hillbillies
and
Sanford and Son."

"They won't stay long. They have short attention spans.We'll be old news in a day or two. They'll be off to cover a politician in a sex scandal or movie star sighting."

"I sure hope so. We need to feed people, find more drinking water, and get the electricity back on. I don't have time to fool with questions like, 'Mayor Hillburn, what does it feel like to see your town blown away?' What kind of idiotic question is that?"

"You've hardly taken a breath since it hit," I said. "You're handling this like you're a disaster pro, but you've lived here most of your life, have your hand in every part of Green. How
does
it feel?"

"My heart is broken, and I'm trying to hold it together for people who need me." She glanced around as though to make sure no one was looking. "I'm wearing a disguise to keep from talking to reporters, spilling my guts to my newspaper owner on a bench that wasn't here yesterday, and wishing I could go home and walk Sugar Marie."

"I can't get my mind around how we'll ever get Green back to where it was. Where are all these people going to live? Where am
I
going to live?" I asked.

"This will take every one of those leadership bones you've got in your body, Lois. Green can't do it without you and the
Item."

"We couldn't do it without you," I said, standing. "By the way, where did this bench come from?"

"I have no idea."

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

G
reen 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.