No Weapon Formed (Boaz Brown)

by Stimpson, Michelle

Seth acted as though I was stabbing him, hollering loudly when the cold spray hit his arms. “That’s cold!”

  His antics sent the older kids into hysterics, which was exactly what he’d wanted.

  Stelson tilted his chin up, acknowledging me from the grill. I winked, knowing this might be all I got from him until after all the food was finished.

  Some of the other moms and I kept a watchful eye on our kids as we conversed about a variety of topics: good books, the new Aldi store, and the chicken pox vaccine, which I had recently learned was a requirement of the state. Back in my day, chicken pox was a rite of passage. You were “one of us” once you’d endured a week of those terribly itchy bumps and a little fever.

  Somehow, the conversation drifted to losing weight, which made for a fifteen-minute-long lament. From my perspective, no one in our circle was really overweight, even for Texas. Shoot, some of them needed to gain a few pounds, if you’d asked me.

  In times like those, I had to make a conscious effort not to go into a “they’re not black” moment. Our circumstantial clique, formed because we all needed to make sure our kids and their on-the-spot babysitters didn’t venture too close to the lake, consisted of four white women, one Hispanic, and two black, including myself. If I wasn’t careful, I could almost draw a line between them and me (the other black woman on my side, of course) and start to interpret the conversation through a lifetime of Daddy’s bitter commentary.

  Why are white women so whiney? If an alleged extra fifteen pounds is your biggest problem, you need to go sit down somewhere.

  Even after knowing Stelson for ten years, serving alongside diverse groups of people in the church—well, at least I did before I had Seth—and coming to the understanding that the first man in my life had been dead wrong for teaching me that all white people were undercover racists, still…the memories lingered. They had to be consciously challenged.

  Don’t go there, LaShondra. Stay who you are now.

  I wondered if people who had experienced neglect at an early age had to remind themselves that not everyone would leave them. And did people who grew up without knowing when they’d get their next meal always feel the need to pack every leftover scrap of food into a doggie bag? Furthermore, were the white women at the table fighting to overcome their own prejudices as I sat in the circle? Are we all fighting secret battles?

  Once I reeled myself back from black-isolation-island, I was more than ready to join the congregation in blessing the food. Pastor Toole and his wife stood at the head table, where aluminum pans overflowing with meat, potato salad, beans, and pre-sliced pound cake were already teasing my stomach.

  “Let us pray.”

  After the ‘amen’ members from the hospitality team manned the serving line. In no time, we were all enjoying good food and time with family. Stelson had retrieved the kids and brought them to our table so we could make sure they ate.

  After half an hour or so, Jim Moore, one of the men who worked alongside Stelson in the finance ministry, announced that it was time for the trail walk. “In light of the temperature, we’re doing the shortest trail. Half a mile. You need good shoes and a water bottle. And you’ll definitely want your cameras. It’s a beautiful route.”

  Stelson raised his eyebrows. “You wanna go?”

  Me? In a forest? I squinted. “What you talkin’ ‘bout, Willis?”

  “Oh, come on, Arnold,” he said. “Live a little.”

  “My foot’s still not one hundred percent,” I tried.

  “It’s only half a mile,” my husband convinced me. “I’ll carry you if I have to.”

  “Yeah, right.” We both laughed.

  Stelson went back to my car and got the baby harness from the back seat. I strapped Zoe to my chest because I wanted to be on the lookout for bugs trying to get past my bug spray. Seth nearly hopped out of his skin at the prospect of a jungle adventure. Stelson had a way of making our son think everything was a major excursion.

  We started out at the foot of a massive thicket of trees. Once we got ten feet into the walk, the canopy of trees shaded us perfectly and a coolness I hadn’t expected made it bearable to link pinkies with Stelson while he held Seth’s hand.

  My husband took a deep breath. “Reminds me of old times. Divine.”

  I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around the smell—wild grass mixed with tree bark and a hint of flowers? Whatever the combination, the scent was not something I’d want in my clothes or my hair. Though the foot trail was fairly defined, the further along we went, the more pathways veered to the left and the right. One wrong move and a person like me with no sense of direction could be walking in circles for hours.

  Overgrown brush poked into our walkway. Birds with unfamiliar calls screeched as we invaded their territory.

  This whole setup was too naturely for me.

  Seth tucked his water bottle in his waist. “Dad, did you used to come here when you were little?”

  “Not this park, but we did camp.”

  “Ooh! Look!” Seth shouted, pointing into a thicket. “A bunny for Easter!” A white rabbit stood watching us watch him. The animal had unusually long ears. Reminded me of Bugs, actually, but he didn’t seem like one of those friendly, carrot-eatin’ rabbits.

  The group slowed as Jim explained that as nice and cuddly as rabbit and deer were depicted in Disney movies, wildlife lives up to its name—wild. We shouldn’t try to touch any animals we might find along the trail. “And watch out for snakes.”

  He shouldn’t have told me that. “Snakes?” I whispered to Stelson.

  “We’ll be fine.”

  Selfishly, I tore away from my husband and eased toward the center of our pack. If a snake was gonna attack, it would have to get through five other people before it got to Zoe and me.

  We did stop again as Jim told us about the various species of birds in the area. Eagles could be seen and heard if we came later in the day.

  Our group couldn’t have gone more than fifty feet before I looked back to double-check for Stelson’s head. Not hard to spot, since my poor husband didn’t have any hair.

  We had made it to a point where we could see the next hundred yards or so pretty clearly. There would be no snakes nipping at our feet without warning, so I slowed down to join the other half of my family.

  But when Stelson’s full figure came into view, he wasn’t attached our son.

  “Where’s Seth?”

  “I thought he was with you.”

  Simultaneously, we turned toward the empty path we’d just traipsed. “Seth!” I yelled.

  No answer.

  “Seth!” Stelson’s voice, much louder, called.

  Still no answer.

  “Jim, hold up a minute. Is Seth in the bunch?”

  Everyone stopped. Their heads made three hundred and sixty degree circles, then shook ominously.

  My stomach hardened.

  “Seth! Seth!” my fellow church members began calling his name. Stelson took off down the original path. Jim followed him. I was about to be the third person in line when Nora, one of the ladies I’d been talking to earlier, put a hand on my arm and said, “No, LaShondra, stay with us. You’ve got the baby.”

  The baby. Yes, Zoe. Thank God she was strapped to me. I wrapped my fingers around her toes and squeezed gently as we waited. One minute. Two. I don’t know—seemed like an eternity.

  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.

  Chapter 13

  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.”

&nbs
p; “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.