Finding Someplace Read Free

used to hurricanes. She’d come from New Jersey to go to nursing school, and she met Lloyd Boone at a football game. She always told her kids that she fell in love with him and with New Orleans in that order.
    â€œMama, you know you’re just freaked out because there aren’t any hurricanes in Newark!” Reesie said.
    â€œThat’s not entirely true, Reesie,” Mama said. “And, Junior, set the table!”
    â€œJeannie, this Katrina is still just a tropical storm,” Daddy said. “It hasn’t even been upgraded to hurricane status.” He lifted the salad bowl. “And y’all don’t forget—hurricanes change direction in a heartbeat. It could go off into the ocean somewhere.”
    Junior clanked knives and forks onto the table. “So I guess no evacuation for Sarge Boone. You don’t believe in the e word, do you, Dad?”
    â€œRight now the only place I’m going is to the dinner table.”
    â€œGood idea,” Mama said. “Let’s let this subject rest.”
    They sat down together. Reesie thought that was a great idea; she’d rather talk about getting ready for her birthday instead of some old storm.
    â€œDaddy! I finished my skirt—”
    â€œReesie—” her mother interrupted. “Say grace, please.”
    â€œBless this food, and bless the sun so it shines hard on my birthday this weekend! And I hope that Sergeant ‘Superman’ Boone is right about this storm!”
    Reesie’s father winked at her.
    â€œAmen!” her mother said firmly. She smiled at Reesie and squeezed her hand.
    Daddy nodded his approval and reached for the platter.
    â€œYou might be a teenager next week,” Junior said, “but you’ll be my little sister forever ! Come on now, Reesie Girl. Pass the rice. I’m starving!”

 
    Chapter Three
    A UGUST 27, 2005
    â€œLadies and gentlemen, the designer of the year, Teresa Arielle Boone!”
    The crowd went wild. Reesie was on the runway, and it was her own fashion show. Her shiny black hair was bone-straight and swinging, just like the short red skirt of her glittery spaghetti-strap dress. News cameras were flashing and digital cams were clicking. She was surrounded by models wearing the clothes she’d designed; Ayanna and Orlando were going crazy in the front row; and all the folks in the house were chanting her name.
    â€œReeee-see! Reee-see!” She was grinning and loving the excitement. The audience got louder. She blew them kisses.
    â€œReesie!” She looked out and saw her parents. She waved but then felt a funny sensation around her ankles. Water was lapping over her toes. She looked out at the people, and they were all gone. She was alone, and she was surrounded by water.
    *   *   *
    Reesie woke up shaking. It was always water in her dreams. She tossed and turned but couldn’t fall back to sleep. The sun hadn’t even started to glow behind the vertical blinds, but she was now wide-awake. She heard her parents’ voices.
    Usually, when both of her parents left for work so early, they drank coffee and whispered while Reesie peacefully slept. Not this time. They were arguing, something that almost never happened. She pulled her knees up in the dark and sat against her pillows.
    â€œAnd in every storm scare,” her mother said, “you get called in to work overtime, triple time.… What if we need you?”
    In just four days the tropical storm that Junior had been so obsessed with had turned into a bona fide hurricane. Already Katrina had hit Florida like a monster, and the weather reports were screaming that she was headed right for the Gulf Coast, possibly New Orleans.
    â€œJeannie, be fair. I’m a police officer. It’s my job!”
    â€œIt doesn’t have to be.” Her mother lowered her voice.
    Reesie leaned forward, straining to hear more. The kitchen cabinet doors and fridge