On The Road With Danny Concannon: '04-'05: Somewhere in Montana

Companion piece: B. Wood

"MIA "

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DAY SIX

The TV at the Washington Post blared news of the Camp David piece accord as people milled about doing business as semi-usual. Danny's office was still empty and it would seem that Maisy's desk was the same. Or was it?

"Yes, I'm trying to locate a Danny Concannon—Daniel Concannon." Maisy spoke softly as she hid under her desk. "—works for the Washington Post." She rolled her eyes impatiently. "Last I heard he was somewhere in the surrounding area---yes, well I sent a package to a post office box and....." Maisy curled her fingers around the cord. "About six one, red hair, beard, sometimes looks like he slept in his own skin....Yes, yes...Well how long ago did he leave?"

"Maisy?" A male voice was heard from above her, making Maisy tense up.

"Yeah, thank you." Maisy said quickly getting off the phone with little information.

"Yeah!?" Maisy asked from under the desk, her eyebrows lifting and her eyes widening.

"Maisy?" Danny's editor asked, looking around Maisy's desk.

"Yeah?" Maisy's guilty head lifted above the desktop before pushing her entire body up into view.

"What were you doing.....under the desk?"

"I dropped...... a pen---what's up?"

"Ahh.." The man walked closer and took a fuchsia Post-It off of Maisy's forehead. "Montana Post Office?? The man read the name next to the number on the Post-It.

"Oh!" Maisy grabbed the Post-It and crumbled it up. "I was looking for that---had to send something to Danny---send him something he needs for a story---that's it—can I help you?"

"Yeah....?" He looked at her feeling something was up. All those years as a reporter first were kicking in. "I need to get in touch with Danny---I'd like him to do a story on this Camp David thing---well as much as he can without them letting us be there---He has to call me—" He paused. You gave him my message?"

"Yeah, of course I did. Danny's just really into a story right now---he doesn't check in too often---I mean I left him a message—on his cell phone—which of course he still has—I just---he's really.....busy."

"I see?" The man looked at Maisy, perplexed.

"You tell him he has to call me—or I'm sending Katie to Iowa—I want him on this beat—this is his thing." He started to walk off.

"He'll be here. He'll be back."

"Back?" The editor turned to Maisy.

"Back?"

"Back? Back from his story---after he posts I mean."

"Where is he?" The man leaned forward with wonder.

"Montana, he's in Montana."

"Working on what?"

"Well.....you know he doesn't tell me everything—he just has me doing phone calls---you know, like usual."

"Yeah?" The editor looked at Maisy strangely. Maisy adjusted her hand on her hip, uncomfortably, and gave him a large smile. He wasn't buying it. "He needs to check in with me, Maisy. Either he's working for us---or he's not. I don't want to be the one making that decision. Things are cookin' around here---."

"I know---He's just into something---he's got something."

"Okay." The editor had a tone of concern and love for Danny, but he knew he had to do his job. "I just need to know where he's at---I don't mind sending someone else out there---we just want our best reporter on this."

"Yeah—of course—he knows that."

"Okay." He walked off, giving Maisy one last look.

Once he was out of sight Maisy plopped down into her seat with a large release of air.

"Ahh!" She threw her head onto the desk and on top of her arms. Her long hair covered her face and from the blanket of hair her hand emerged and set the phone, from her hand, back on the receiver with a bit of difficulty. Not a moment before she was about to lift her hand off the receiver it rang, scaring the hell out of her.

"Ahh!" Maisy's head half raised as she was taken aback. She lifted the phone off the receiver, and to her ear, under all her hair. "Hello, Danny Concannon's office Washington Post." She droned. "I expect him any minute I swear."

"Maisy?" Danny's voice came through.

"DANNY!" Maisy lifted her head causing hair to fall in her face and mouth.

"Maisy?"

"Yes." She spoke as she removed her hair from her face and mouth and spitting out the last piece so she could speak.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing?"

"Maisy." Danny spoke as Maisy looked around and covered the mouthpiece halfway with her hand.

"I can't tell people you've gone MIA."

"I don't care right now."

"You could lose your job Danny. I keep getting little visits from your editor."

"What does he want?"

"He says he'll give the primaries to Katie if you don't resurface soon."

"They're like four months away."

"You have to be here, Danny—if not physically."

"I get that."

"I tell him I have no idea where you are when the most important news event in like –a lot of years—is going on, I think he'll get a little suspicious you fell off the deep end.

"I didn't fall off the deep end. What's going on?"

"What's going on... Danny—the Israelis and the Palestinians are talking at Camp David—like for six days—how could you not--"

"Been a little out of touch for a while."

"Danny?" She was worried. "How long has it been since you read the paper?"

"I'll be back soon, just not yet."

"Where can I reach you?" Maisy stood up and walked toward Danny's open office door.

"I'll call you."

"Danny?"

Maisy leaned the side of her body on the doorway, and looked into Danny's empty office. As she did so she heard Danny's private line ring and the answering machine turn on. She crossed her white booted legs and waited for Danny to begin speaking again.

"This is Danny Concannon at the Washington Post. I will be out of the office until January 11th. But please leave a message and I will try and give you a call from the road. If this is business related you can call my assistant Maisy on the main line. Thank you." The beep went off and nothing was heard. Maisy eyeballed the machine.

"Maisy?" He noticed her pause to hear the message.

"Are you checking your messages?" Maisy asked.

"No, I'm talking to you, why would I be checking my messages?"

"Your main line is ringing." The phone ran again and the machine clicked on again. "There it goes again."

"Leave it alone."

"Someone keeps hanging up."

"Maybe it's a telemarketer."

"It happened yesterday too." Maisy walked into the office and over to the machine "A persistent telemarketer."

"I think I should answer it."

"Maisy don't!"

"Why?"

"Because it's my private line!"

"Yeah?"

"And it's my private line." The machine finished and a dial tone was heard.

"They hung up again?"

"Let it be, Maisy. It could be anyone. Some people just don't leave messages."

"You ever heard of voice mail. What is this from 1982?"

"Aren't you from 1982?"

"I take back the question."

"Leave it alone Maisy."

"Can you at least tell me where you are?"

"No."

"When will you be back?"

"I'll be back when I'm back. Anything else?"

"No, that's it"

"Yeah."

"No, wait. If you're not coming back, why did you call? I mean you don't need me. I should just go on vacation."

"Go ahead."

"I will, ya know."

"No, you won't."

"Why did you call?"

"A package."

"A package?"

"I sent you something---something I need you to take care of for a little while—while I'm away."

"Okay?

"Maisssy?"

"I'll take care of it."

"Excuse me?" A man pushed through the semi-crowd of milling people. "Hey." The man yelled toward Maisy who took a moment to move her head. "Yeah, you? You takin' packages for a..." He looked at the package. "Danny Concannon."

"Hey, speak of the devil." She motioned toward the man and waved him over. She sent her shoulder up to hold the phone to her ear while she signed for the package and thanked him.

"Okay, gotta go."

"Danny?" She spoke into the phone as the man walked off. "Danny?" She walked back to her desk holding the package. "Damn!" She set the package on her desk and with great force slammed the phone back on its receiver. More curious than any cat, she quickly found a pair of scissors and opened the box with the gusto of a child on Christmas morning. Finding her way, awkwardly, through the packaging material, Maisy reached her hands in and found what she was looking for. What she pulled out wasn't at all what she wanted to find: Danny's laptop. She recognized it immediately. A lump formed in her throat.

"Oh Danny? She spoke with all concern. "Where..........are you?" She held the laptop out and looked at it. "And what is going on with you?"