No Weapon Formed (Boaz Brown) (12 page)

In the distance, we could all
hear Jim and Stelson calling Seth’s name.

“Let’s pray,” Nora said.

Those of us who’d stayed put
formed a circle and locked hands. “Father, Your Word says there is nothing
hidden from You. We pray that You would reveal Seth’s location in Jesus’ name.”

Jim’s and Stelson’s voices
were softer now. They were further away. “Seth! Where are you?”

I knew then that my baby was
good and lost.

Seven whole minutes later,
Jim and Stelson returned. Without Seth.

Stelson hugged me and stole a
second to whisper, “Psalm ninety-one.”

“We’ve called the rangers,”
Jim said to the group. “They’ll help us find him. You all go ahead and follow this
path. In another quarter of a mile, it’ll lead you to a clearing and our
pavilion will be on the left. You can’t miss it.”

I heard people’s movements
before I saw their feet actually moving away from the direction where we had
last seen Seth.

“No! I’m not leaving him out
here!” I locked glances with Stelson.

“Babe, we are going to find
him. But we need the rangers to help us now because he’s…off the path.”

Confused, I shook my head,
still tied to Stelson’s eyes. “Off the path?”

Jim’s fingers gripped my
husband’s shoulder. “It hasn’t been long. And believe it or not, he’s not the
first person to get lost, LaShondra. We’ll find him. He can’t be too far.”

I begged to differ. Seth
could get pretty far pretty quickly.

“He can’t be too far,” Jim
repeated himself.

“Shondra, go back. We’ll wait
for the rangers. Jim has given them our exact location. I’ll text you the
moment we find him. And remember Psalm ninety-one.”

I couldn’t remember my name
just then, let alone a whole chapter of the Bible.
How did Seth get away so
quickly?

With each step toward the
pavilion and away from my baby, my heart shattered again and again. I pictured
my baby, probably following that rabbit, crawling into the bushes. Maybe the
rabbit bit him. Maybe the rabbit ran away, and Seth chased him further into the
woods, where a coyote was waiting. And Seth would mistake it for a dog. Try to
pet it. And then…

No! No! No!

Nora linked elbows with me as
tears escaped my control. Our feet crunched the gravel as we walked back to the
pavilion. With every agonizing step, I imagined Seth’s voice getting softer and
softer. If he was calling for Mommy, I wouldn’t have been able to hear him once
we cleared the trail area.

He was so little. Frail.
Anything in that giant forest could gobble him up.

“Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,” I
whispered repeatedly because I couldn’t think of anything else except The Name.

My fellow church members
ushered me to one of the picnic benches, where I rocked back and forth, holding
on to Zoe, chanting His name. The congregation joined me, speaking requests for
Seth’s safe return aloud, encircling me in prayer.

Still, I only had one word:
Jesus.

Somebody brought me a bottled
water. I gulped it down, which must have triggered Zoe’s thirst. Nora retrieved
the baby’s bag and offered to relieve me of the task of feeding, but I was too
paranoid to let go of my baby girl. My shaking hands struggled to hold the
baby’s bottle steady.

I wished I could have called
my mother. She was no park ranger, but having her there would have made me feel
like someone else more responsible than me was present.

A camper from one of the
adjacent pavilions came over and asked if everything was okay. “No,” Nora
shared. “One of our kids got lost on the trail. They’re looking for him now.”

“My goodness,” the guest
exclaimed with sincerity. “Well, we saw you guys gathered around praying. We’ve
got about fifty people here with our family picnic. Let us know what we can
do.” He sauntered back to his group.

My personal, in-brain video
recorder tried to pin-point the exact time Seth must have gotten lost.
How
did we lose track of him? I thought he was with Stelson.

Fifteen minutes passed before
I got the first text from Stelson.
Coming back to pavilion.
Need to
organize search party.

Pastor Toole must have gotten
the text in the same moment. “Okay, everyone, we haven’t had any success in
finding Seth yet,” he announced with raised arms. “Everyone who’s willing and
able—we’re gonna form search parties to look for him.”

After another fifteen
minutes, our pavilion was packed with people all up and down the lake shore who
were willing to ditch their plans for fun in the sun to help find my baby.
People I’d never even met were stuffed under the canopy, awaiting directions
from the ranger.

Stelson held Zoe and cradled
my shoulder while the rangers, along with a few police officers, explained how
to use the buddy system. They laid out a map on one of the tables and gave
directions to “squad leaders” as they called them—about seven men who’d
volunteered to lead groups of people. Walkie-talkies were dispensed to optimize
communications. “Set it to channel four.”

Surely, with so many people
looking for Seth, and such knowledgeable rangers, they
had
to find him.

“We’ve got about four hours
before sundown. We need to make the best use of the sunlight,” the main
organizer announced.

I’m sure his words were simply
a matter of fact, but terror eased up my back at the thought of Seth being lost
after dark. Or overnight. I buried my face in Stelson’s chest.

Two hours later, we still
hadn’t found Seth, but news reporters had found out about the story. The last
thing I wanted was the media trampling on my nerves, but we couldn’t stop them.
It’s a free, drama-starved country. One of my church members remarked that
since it was a holiday weekend, news was slow. They were looking for any crisis
to make the evening news sensational.

All the local networks were
there—NBC, ABC, CBS, FOX, KTVT. The church women who’d stayed behind with
me kept me fairly insulated. The media spoke to the police, mostly, and took
footage of kids who’d stayed behind playing in the shallow end of the lake.

Daddy really wasn’t the one I
wanted to have present with me in a time of crisis, but I didn’t want him to
find out on television that his grandson was missing. “Daddy, umm…” I steadied
my voice, “We’re having some trouble finding Seth. We were at a picnic today at
the lake,  and—”

“What lake?”

“Ronnie Reed.”

“He got lost?”

“Yes.”

“Well, who was watching him?”
Daddy asked.

“He was with me and Stelson
and some other church members.”
Why does this feel like a lecture?
“Anyway, we were on one of the walking trails and he got lost. They’ve got news
reporters and everything out here. Won’t be long before they put it on
television.”

“Ronnie Reed Lake, you say?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m on my way.”

After ending the call with
Daddy, I called Jonathan and filled him in. He fussed for a second, asking why
I hadn’t called him earlier.

“I really thought we would
have found him by now,” I cried.

Jonathan relented. “Don’t
worry, Shondra. The woods don’t go on forever. He’s in there, and he will be
found. It’ll take me about an hour to get there, but I’m coming to help.”

I was hoping to have good
news by the time Jonathan arrived, but there was none. And as the search crews
began rolling back in without Seth, my stomach churned. No sign of my baby, and
sunlight wouldn’t be on our side much longer.

The news crews were still
hanging in their heavily wired vans. “As the search continues for a missing four-year-old
boy at Ronnie Reed Lake, family and friends are gathered here under the shelter
of the pavilion. People have been praying, waiting for good news or any news.
At this point, police are not sure if the child met with some kind of danger or
if he’s simply lost. But one thing’s for sure. His family, his friends, and a
multitude of strangers are not giving up on finding him. We’ll continue to
follow this story into the evening. I’m Pauline Frazier. ABC news.”

Daddy arrived wearing
overalls, a white t-shirt and a straw hat, looking as though he might take off
on his own private search for Seth. He pushed past the media and, with my word,
through the church-member barricade. He hugged me briefly. “Where’s Stelson?”

“He’s out looking along with
dozens more people,” I said.

Daddy glanced at the acres of
trees all around us. “What is Seth wearing?”

“A green shirt with blue jean
shorts.”

Daddy shook his head. “Wish
he was wearing something brighter, like yellow or orange.”

“You and everybody else,” I
voiced.

“I’m sorry. Where’s Zoe?”

“Some of the teen girls are
trying to keep her happy.”

Zoe was beyond fussy by then.
She’d tried to take a nap, but it was too hot outside for her to get
comfortable.

“Can we get a press
conference?” One of the media members yelled toward us. “We might be able to
get more help.”

Suddenly, all eyes were on
me. The mother of the lost child.

Nora asked, “Do you want to?”

“No. I mean…yes, if it will
do
something.”

“I’ll see what they have in
mind,” Nora said.

That Pauline lady was allowed
to enter our confines. “Hi. I’m terribly sorry about this whole situation. This
must be awful for you,” she sympathized.

For someone who made a living
telling bad news, her vibrancy and girl-next-door beauty fell in second place
to her sincerity.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“Maybe if you and your
husband could…give permission to use a picture…and make a plea to the public,
someone might come forth with helpful information.”

“Information like what?”

Pauline shrugged. “Well, I’m
sure Seth isn’t the first person to get lost on the trail. Maybe there’s a
cut-off or a hiding place someone knows about. Or maybe…if someone took him…”

I nearly vomited. “
Took
him? Is that what the officers are telling you?”

She shook her head
vigorously. “No, no, no. I’m saying…if anyone knows anything, or if anyone can
assist, conveying the situation on television will only help. It may bring more
volunteers and maybe even raise awareness so the next family to go on the trail
won’t have to suffer.” She threw a glance toward the lowering sun. “And the
sooner the better.”

I don’t know what all went
through my brain, but the words assist, information, and suffer struck a chord.
“Okay.” I texted her a picture of Seth for the story.

Pauline hopped up and
hollered toward her van. “Okay, people, let’s set the stage.”

I texted Stelson:
Press
conference.

He replied:
Why?

His question made me wonder
if I’d made the right decision.
To get help.

A few minutes later, Pauline
approached me again. “Mrs. Brown, are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“To go on camera. Make a plea
to the public.”

Somehow, I had missed the
part about me being on TV. I must have been thinking the press conference would
be with the police department and the rangers. Honestly, I don’t really know
what I was thinking at that point. I was tired. Nerves fried. Emotionally
drained. And I was hungry but I couldn’t force myself to eat, not when Seth was
probably starving by then.

Overwhelmed by Pauline’s
request, I sighed. “What…what do I have to do?”

“Just need you to say a few
words about your son and ask for help,” she prodded.

My phone buzzed with a
message from Stelson.
Crews coming back in soon. Too dark. Don’t worry.

How could I
not
worry
with a message like that?

Daddy must have read the
expression on my face when I read Stelson’s words. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re coming back.”

“Who’s coming back?” Pauline
said.

“The rangers. It’s getting
too dark,” I cried.

“That’s it, Mrs. Brown.
That’s
the emotion we need on camera. Share your experience. We’re on in three
minutes.”

Pauline was trying to win her
first Emmy, I gathered, as she walked back to her lighting crew to finish
preparations.

Daddy, who’d been sitting by
my side since he arrived, leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Is Stelson
coming back now?”

“Yeah.”

“You might ought to wait
until he gets here. Let him do the conference.”

Puzzled, I asked, “Why wait?
We’ve only got a half hour until sunset.”

Daddy poked out his lips for
a second. “You gonna think I’m tryin’ to be funny, but I’m dead serious.
Stelson’s white. The news gets one look at him, they’ll probably send out the National
Guard. But for a black kid…not gonna happen.”

I felt like Daddy had bashed
my face with a brick.
Not gonna happen.
My lips trembled. “B-but—”

“Shondra, you know I love
Seth. I want him back as much as you do. That’s why I’m telling you. Let
Stelson
do the press conference.”