The entire plant collapsed before his eyes. With a deafening roar, all three containment buildings dropped out of sight, as though suddenly swallowed up by the earth. Billowing clouds of dirt and debris rose up where the towers had once stood. Children, and even a few teachers, screamed as, in a matter of minutes, the looming nuclear power plant ceased to exist.
Mom! Ford thought, all thought of cake and birthdays forgotten. Dad!
The roar of the disaster consumed his entire world.
FIVE
PRESENT DAY
A high-pitched hydraulic whine roused Lieutenant Ford Brody from an uneasy slumber. A sliver of light hit his tired brown eyes, causing him to blink and look away. The twenty-five year old Navy officer sat in the cramped-but-spacious hold of a C-17 Globemaster transport plane, surrounded by dozens of troops from other branches of the armed services, all returning from recent tours of duty in Afghanistan. Ford knew he ought to be more excited about finally touching down back home, but, to be honest, he was mostly worn-out, jet-lagged, and even a bit apprehensive.
“Family waiting for you?” Captain Freeman asked, eyeing Ford. A career soldier in his mid-forties, the older man had a seen-it-all air about him. He had been dozing beside Ford for the last several thousand miles.
Ford shrugged. “Hope so.”
Freeman nodded. “How long you been away?”
“Fourteen months.”
“Take it slow,” Freeman advised, gathering up his kit, which was resting at his feet. “It’s the one thing they don’t train you for.”
Tell me about it, Ford thought. The long separation had been hard on everyone.
Daylight flooded the hold as the large cargo doors at the rear of the plane glided open, offering a view of the tarmac beyond. Ford gathered up his own things as he joined the procession of weary, homebound warriors exiting the plane two by two. He quickly lost track of Captain Freeman in the crush of uniformed bodies. He wondered what, if any, kind of reunion the battle-hardened veteran had in store. The call of duty could be hard on one’s home life, as Ford was already learning for himself.
Outside the hangar at Travis Air Force Base, a mob of eager friends and family waited impatiently behind a cordon for the first glimpse of their loved ones. The crowd displayed flowers, yellow ribbons, waving flags, and enough handmade signs to stage a political demonstration. The brightly colored signs, often boasting stars, stripes, and generous amounts of glitter, greeted the new arrivals with countless heartfelt variations on the same theme.
“WELCOME HOME, DAD!”
“WELCOME HOME, SIS!”
“WELCOME HOME, SWEETHEART!”
Cheers and applause hailed the first appearance of the troops, followed by tears and squeals of delight as individuals spotted their respective loved ones. Neatly regimented ranks broke apart into a riot of emotional reunions. Spouses leapt into each other’s arms, locking lips in public displays of affection. Small children scampered to embrace their parents. Older relatives wept openly at the safe return of long-absent sons, daughters, nephews, nieces, and grand-children. Handcrafted signs, painstakingly prepared, were tossed aside and forgotten in the joy and excitement of the moment. Bouquets of yellow roses were crushed between enthusiastic hugs and kisses.
Lost in a sea of jubilant strangers, Ford looked around anxiously, searching for a familiar face. At first all he saw was other people’s reunions, but then:
“Hello, stranger.”
Elle emerged from the chaotic mob scene, her sandy blond hair and hazel eyes instantly rendering everyone else insignificant, aside from the mop-headed four-year-old boy clutched in her arms. A rush of emotion overcame Ford at the sight of his wife and son, who had only been flickering images on a computer screen for over a year now. He couldn’t help noticing how much bigger Sam was; he’d been barely more than a toddler the last time Ford had laid eyes on him in person. He tried not to think about how much he’d missed during the young boy’s growth.
They jostled their way through the crowd toward each other. Beaming and beautiful, Elle put Sam down on the pavement in front of his father. Ford half expected the boy to come charging toward him, as so many of the other children were doing with their parents, but instead Sam looked oddly tentative. He hung back shyly, retreating behind his mother, while Ford stood by helplessly, uncertain what to do. At the moment, defusing a roadside IED seemed simpler and easier than re-connecting with his own child.
Elle broke the awkward silence. “Lots of discussion about who gets the first hug.” she explained.
“Where’d you come out on that?” Ford asked.
Elle bent to confer with Sam. “You change your mind, honey?”
Sam stared at Ford wordlessly. Ford knelt down before him, approaching him as delicately as he would an unexploded bomb.
“I’ve been carrying around that last hug you gave me for a long time,” Ford said gently, even as Sam continued to gaze at him as though he didn’t quite recognize the uniformed stranger before him. “I could sure use a refill.”
The boy came out from behind Elle, but still appeared a little shy. Elle placed a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder, while casting an apologetic look at Ford.
“Let’s do this,” she suggested. “Why don’t I go first and check it out and make sure Daddy still knows what he’s doing?”
She came forward and, for the time being, all Ford’s fears and worries evaporated as she was there in his arms once more, holding him close, kissing him passionately, and he felt keenly just how much he had missed her during his long months abroad. Sam was squeezed in between them, hesitantly joining in the celebration. The three of them clung to each other, wrapped up tight in the moment, oblivious to the tumultuous scene around them. For the first time since the plane had touched down, Ford truly felt like he was home.
At least for now.
“Welcome Home, Daddy!” read the homemade banner taped to the dining room wall.
The sun had fallen by the time they got back to their modest home in San Francisco. Ford was relieved to see that the house looked much as he remembered, aside from a few new knick-knacks and appliances. Dinner was cartons of ice cream, including Ford’s favorite: Rocky Road. Across the table, Sam dug enthusiastically into a big carton of chocolate-chip mint. His earlier shyness had faded somewhat, now that they were all settled back in at home, in familiar surroundings. Maybe Sam had just needed a little time to get used to seeing his dad again?
Ford hoped that was the case. “Sam, you better enjoy this,” his mother said. “You’re not getting ice cream for dinner every night.”
“We aren’t?” Ford said through a mouthful of Rocky Road, provoking giggles from Sam. “Why not?”
Elle rolled her eyes. “Sam, how do you have a ten-year-old for a father? How is that mathematically possible?”
After ice cream, it was time to put Sam to bed. His room still had same blue wallpaper, adorned with rockets and blazing comets, he and Elle had picked out four years ago. Pencil markings on a wall charted his growth. Although Elle had been needed to help Sam into his pajamas, Ford had insisted on tucking his son into bed himself. But first he had to clear off a menagerie of toy soldiers, tanks, and dinosaurs from atop the covers. He couldn’t help smiling at the toys, which reminded him of the same ones he’d played with as a child — before his mother died and everything went to hell.
Don’t think about that now, he scolded himself. Concentrate on today… and Sam.
“See this one here?” He plucked a green plastic soldier from the bed-slash-battleground. “That’s a lot like Daddy in his uniform, but mine’s way cooler. We need to go to the toy store, find you a Navy man. How ‘bout that?”