The Gift Raymond Santiago New York Daily News, April 19th, 2007 Today marks the third day, in the search for 17 yr. old, Jack Loosa. Young Loosa, residing on Warwick St. in the East New York section of Brooklyn disappeared while on his way to the Brooklyn Library, just one block from his house on Apr. 16th between the hrs of 6 to 8pm. Sgt. Winthrow, of the NYPD, who is investigating the case missing persons case, is speculating that the missing boy was probably abducted by a person or persons unknown but probably known to the young man. “I’m positive that Jack knew his abductors.” said the Sgt., “There are no signs of a struggle or any evidence within a 10 block radius which suggests he was taken forcibly.” he continued, “As usual, we have no witnesses. We’ll just have to keep on investigating and hope we find a clue or somebody comes forward with some information.” The News has failed in its attempts to contact young Loosa’s mother, Mrs. Anne Loosa, personally or by phone. The neighbors, on the other hand, were eager to speak of the young man. “He was a strange kid, that one.” stated next door neighbor Mrs. Kendall. “We would never see him, always locked up in his house and only come out for school. My son tried one time to go over to see if he could hang out and maybe they could become friends. After a few minutes, my Timmy comes running out the front door and comes straight home. He said that he had gone into Jack’s room and got all freaked out.” “And why was that?” asks The News reporter. “Cause he had all these monster heads and posters all around his room, my Timmy said. That can’t be healthy for a 15 yr old (at the time), yep, a strange kid.” I April 18th, 2013 The doorbell rings. “I’ll be right there!” A minute passes as she reaches the front door. “Good morning Mrs. Loosa, and how are you this lovely morn?” “Just fine, Greg. It’s nice of you to ask. I see you’ve only got one letter for me today.” “Well, actually, no ma’am. I have nothing for you, but I was making my rounds when I noticed this sticking out of your mailbox. I didn’t deliver it so I thought I’ll bring it up and let you know about it.” “That’s funny, I thought I picked up all my mail yesterday.” “Heh, what’s funny is that I remember what I delivered yesterday was an electric and a phone bill. Maybe it was stuck in the mailbox for a few days, but I see no postmark, I think this was hand delivered and not mailed. I don’t know, it seems pretty suspicious to me.” “Well, don’t you worry about it Greg, It may be a letter from one of the neighbors or some reporter. You know what tomorrow is?” “Yeah, Mrs. Loosa, who could forget, even after all these years.” Greg smiles at Mrs. Loosa and turns, goes down the brownstone steps, out the through the gate and waves as he turns towards the next house on his route. Mrs. Loosa slowly turns away while closing the door to her house. II Sip. “Kind of strong,” she thought, “better add some more sugar.” She returned to the small kitchen and went to the cupboard over the sink, opened the door, reached in, and retrieved the sugar bowl. She added sugar, tasted, and decided it was better. She then returned the bowl to the cupboard and turned to leave the kitchen towards her cozy living room. She set the tea down on a small round table situated right next to her rocking chair. The rocking chair that belong to her mother and that she enjoyed every night before bed along with the tea. She sat down in the chair and started rocking herself, all the while breaking into a smile when she heard the creaks and felt the chair’s motion rock a little sideways to the left. “Darn thing never was aligned right anyway.” she thought. As if remembering that she made tea and brought it with her, she stopped rocking, leaned forward, lifted the tea and drank. Satisfied with the taste she took a larger sip then set it back in the saucer on the tabletop. She snuggled herself further into the rocking chair, smoothed out her apron and pulled the letter from a front pocket. She flipped the letter from front to back to front again, taking in the fact that there was no return address on it or, even for that matter, a stamp. It just had the words “Anne Loosa” in the front of the envelope, written, in what looked, like, maybe what a ten yr. olds handwriting would be. She had difficulty reading the lettering. “If the letter was written this way”, she thought, “It was going to be a little difficult to read.” She padded her chest for a second until her fingers felt the bifocals that were hanging from a silver chain that her sister had given her for Christmas sometime in the early 90s, when she had come to visit for a week, from California. Just to see the newest addition to the family, her nephew Jack. Along with berating her on leaving her husband and trying to raise a child on her own. She loved her sister but she was very glad to see her go home.
Posted on: Thu, 27 Jun 2013 23:43:33 +0000
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