We All Fall Down: The True Story of the 9/11 Surfer (32 page)

After what seemed like an eternity to Louise, the guests of honor began arriving. Every few moments, she saw the face of a woman she had only seen on a magazine cover, and each new face evoked the same feeling of elation in Louise. Each time she was able to kiss and hug one of those dear women and their babies was a meaningful moment to her. Of the fifty mothers who contacted Louise, fifteen were able to attend, Louise cherished meeting every single one of them and all of their children. Despite having never met them before, Louise knew every one of their names and greeted them all as old friends.

She had worried about how they would feel about her, but she needn’t have. Within moments of the final mother arriving, the luncheon took on the feel of a family reunion. Those women knew each other and had even become friends through play dates, photo shoots and various media events, but Louise was more of an outsider. That did not matter, for the women were bonded. From the moment the Towers came down, an inexorable link was drawn between them all, and trivialities like first impressions were unimportant. Louise was truly touched by the presence of Pat Hoey’s wife, Eileen, and Steve Fiorelli’s wife and daughter, Terry and Chrissy. She was more than pleased to have them there to be a part of the reunion.

After everyone had time to settle in, Louise stood and said a few words, thanking each of them for attending. They handed out the gift baskets to the children of every mother. After they sat down and ate a delicious meal together, the gathering was moved outside.

Tables had been set up in the charming little park near a statuesque gazebo, and there was a piñata to entertain the children, as well as Miss Roberta, who sang to them, accompanied by her guitar. There was music and a special cake, all the makings of a wonderful, festive occasion, but the best part for Louise was the opportunity to share an afternoon with all of the mothers and their kids so she could get to know each and every one of them. The entire day was one Louise would never forget, but one event in particular stood out as the moment that allowed Louise to become whole once more.

~ ♦ ~

Pasquale could not hear what was going on, but he knew he was seeing something special, a moment when everything that was wrong in his life over the past year and a half would melt away in the bliss and the true healing power of children’s unfettered joy.

He had not been able to bring himself to attend the Mother’s Day Luncheon. He wanted to help the widows, and he feared that his presence would prevent that—that it would be an obstacle that might get in the way of any benefit they might reap from the day. He did not want that day to be a reminder of the tragedy they all bore scars from; rather, it was meant to be a day unencumbered by all of the baggage he always felt he carried with him. He knew it might not been seen as an act of selflessness by some, but he felt his decision not to attend was the right one.
Besides,
he told himself, by way of justification,
it’s Mother’s Day, and I am not a mom.

Still, he wanted to be there, even if he was just on the outside looking in. So, without much fanfare, he made the decision to watch from afar. He spent the afternoon in his car, parked inconspicuously in the parking lot overlooking the gazebo that the outdoor festivities would be centered around.

From that vantage point, he could just make out Louise holding her video camera, pointing it at a group of little girls, one of them his daughter, all holding hands…

~ ♦ ~

Louise stood, watching, with tears in her eyes. She was filled with absolute joy as she saw her Hope holding hands and standing in a circle with Mary’s daughters, Allison, Katie, and Grace Ann. Four little girls, free of the walls that adults put up between themselves and others, unaware that such a thing would even exist, were playing…just playing.

Those sweet, sweet little girls,
Louise thought.
They don’t know our story. They don’t hold “it” against us…against me…
Louise was in awe as the little girls held hands and spun in a circle.

The little girls laughed, an expression of absolute happiness, while the adults sang:

“Ring around a rosie,

a pocketful of posies…

Ashes, ashes…

We all fall down!”

The adults sang and clapped their hands, and the little girls spun, giggling even harder as the climax of the song came closer.

“Ashes, ashes…

We all fall down!”

And the little girls let go of each other’s hands and fell to the ground, their laughter ringing out and entering Louise’s ears. That sound went somewhere deep inside of her, the sound of four little girls laughing as the world around them melted away. All that mattered to them was their game. Spinning and spinning until finally they fell down but never forgetting to get back up again…

EPILOGUE

Getting Back Up Again

“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning,

but anyone can start today and make a new ending.”

~ Maria Robinson

Louise stood under her favorite tree, in the middle of the perfectly green grass that had been beautifully manicured just days before. Behind her was their gorgeous two-story home, standing proudly as it seemed it always had, but on that day, it was hardly recognizable. Louise was waiting, but she was not alone. Brittany, the family dog, sat dutifully by her side while two little girls did their best to keep still as they waited...

~ ♦ ~

Ring...ring...ring...

“Hello?” Louise answered the phone, a trace of panic evident in her voice, sure that she was about to hear bad news. It would have been hard to fault her for feeling a twinge of terror. After all, the last time she’d been awakened so early in the morning by an unexpected phone call, she’d been given the most terrifying news of her life; Pasquale had been on the other line when she answered that early morning call.

“Mrs. Buzzelli?” the voice on the other end asked.

“This is Louise. Who’s this?”

“Hello, Mrs. Buzzelli. I’m a reporter with Channel 7. I was wondering about your reaction to last night’s news.”

“What news?”

“The news of his death, of course!”

“Oh my goodness! Who? Who died? What are you talking about?”

“Oh you haven’t heard? The Navy SEAL Team 6 killed Osama Bin Laden!”

“What?”

“You didn’t hear? Wow. I can’t believe no one told you!”

“Listen…” Louise began, the words spilling out of her mouth with barely a thought. She was furious; she could not believe anyone would call her house so early in the morning and mock her family with a prank like that. After all they’d been through, she really had no tolerance left in her for such stupidity. “I don’t know who you are, but it is 6:30 in the morning! How dare you call my house and wake up my girls with your sick joke?” Louise waited for a response, but the man said nothing; he was clearly dumbfounded and unprepared for her reaction. Before he could recover, Louise went back on the offensive. “DO NOT call my house again. Do you understand me?”

She slammed down the phone before he could say another word. She closed her eyes, but within seconds, she knew she would not be able to fall asleep again. She was fuming after that phone call and knew there was no way she would calm down enough to get those last thirty minutes of shut-eye before she had to wake up her daughters for school.

What is wrong with people? He knew my name, so he obviously knows about what happened with Pasquale! What a jerk!
She stewed on those angry thoughts for several minutes before doubt began to creep in.
Wait…why
would
someone play a sick joke like that? He did say he was a reporter...Did he say Channel 7?

Ring...ring...

“What, you sick fu—”

“Louise? It’s me.”

“Oh Pasquale, I am so sorry!” She took a deep breath before going on. “It’s just that this guy called claiming to be some Channel 7 reporter and—”

“He
called
you? I just passed a bunch of them backing out of the driveway and told them specifically not to bother my wife!”

“Are you serious, Pasquale?” She could not believe it and wondered if, gasp, a reporter had been telling her the truth. “Is he really…dead?”

“Yeah, Louise. It’s all over the news. Listen, I checked the doors before I left, and they were all locked, but there are a bunch of those media hounds standing in front of our driveway. I told them not to bug you and that we have no comment, so hopefully they’ll leave you alone soon.”

“Well, if they don’t, I’ll just give Cousin Ralph a call and have them taken care of...” she said wryly. “Wait…Pasquale, are you telling me they really got him? The Navy SEALS took him out? He’s really…dead?”

“It looks like it.”

“Really?!” Louise was suddenly terrified. “You have to come home. Come home right now!”

“What? What the hell? Is someone bothering you?”

“What?” She was confused, wondering how Pasquale could possibly be unaware of the imminent danger they were in, the danger
he
was in. “Pasquale, you have to come home. Don’t you see? They’re going to want to retaliate!”

“Oh. I thought...uh…” It was not something he’d considered. He could understand why his wife would be scared, but he did not feel fear himself.
There is no way something like that could happen to the same family a third time... “
Nothing is going to happen. It’s gonna be all right, Nunu. As long as those reporters get the hell off of our lawn, things will be okay.”

Louise laughed, in spite of herself.

“That’s what I want to hear—you laughing. Louise, everything is going to be fine. . Listen, Louise, I just got off the highway. I am almost at work, so I have to hang up. If you need anything just call. You hear me?”

“Are you sure
you
are going to be fine?”

“Positive.”

“Well, just be careful. Promise me you’ll be careful, Pasquale.”

“I promise.”

Louise hung up the phone, but, despite Pasquale’s assurances, she could not help but feel a sense of unease. She mulled those thoughts over for a minute before deciding she would not let them get to her.
I gotta snap out of it. Now is not the time for me to be scared. I can’t let Hope or Mia see me scared. Oh thank you, God! They finally got that piece of shit!

She eventually calmed herself down, and after considering keeping them home, decided that she should let the girls go to school. She did allow them to sleep in a little longer than usual, hoping that the reporters would not be lurking around the driveway when they left.

I’ll tell them about this when they get home from school,
she thought.
I don’t want them thinking about it all day, worrying about their father.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and peeked out from behind the curtains to see if the reporters had stuck around. She could see none, so she decided to enjoy her coffee outside on the front steps of their white colonial home, where so many great memories had been made. She sat and sipped her coffee while taking in the beautiful scene around her.

It has been almost ten years. I can’t believe they got him! They finally got the coward who tried to kill my Pasquale. Oh my God, my amazing husband! Thank you, God, for letting him live to see his children! Today is a day like no other, a victory for all of America. Maybe, finally, there’ll be some closure—an end to what happened to all of us a decade ago. Wow...I have to do something!

As these thoughts raced through Louise’s mind, she began to cry. Even so many years later, she was so thankful that her husband had survived. As she finished her coffee, she made a decision. She knew exactly what to do.
It’s not much, but it’s…perfect!

She put her empty cup back inside, then made her way toward the garage.
Wow. I need to get rid of some of this junk. Okay, where is it? Oh yeah. I put it in the box and then left it on top of the Christmas decorations. Yes! There it is.

She emerged from the garage with a bundle under her arm and went straight up to the top deck on top of their garage. She felt so high up, like she could see everything down the street from the front of her house, a bird’s-eye view...

~ ♦ ~

Sam Raymond was driving through the streets of River Vale and doing his best to ignore the sound of his girls bickering in the backseat. When he could not hum loud enough to drown out their arguing, he decided to turn on the radio.
After what happened last night there must be something interesting on.

He turned the dial and almost immediately found what he wanted to hear: “...and details just continue to pour in as the news hits many Americans who are just now waking up and finding out. You are not dreaming, folks! This is not a bad joke or a hoax. Osama Bin Laden had a bullet put in his brain by the brave heroes that make up Navy SEAL Team 6!”

“Ya hear that, girls?” he said as he looked at them in the rearview mirror.