AUGUST 29, 5:30 AM
Reesie was so shocked and angry that she barely noticed her feet squishing into the carpet. “Where have you been?” Reesie frowned at him.
“Well, Reesie Boone,” he drawled, “this ain’t your house! What’re you doin’ here? And anyway, can’t a brother come in and get hisself dry?”
Before Reesie could answer, Miss Martine spoke out.
“You watch that attitude, André Knight! This is my house!”
Dré’s shoulders immediately shot from slumped to straight.
“Oh! Sorry ’bout that, Miss M. I just came by to check on you.…” Dré stepped in, and a girl appeared behind him.
She was tall and skinny, wearing crazy high platform heels and a tight white dress splashed with creamy flowers. She wore a scarf wrapped around her head like a turban, which Reesie thought was actually kind of cute, and glitter sparkled along with the water drops on her long fake eyelashes.
The pair slipped in the door quickly, but not before Reesie caught a glimpse outdoors. It was still raining, and all she could see was the top of a big tree that the wind must have blown down, and the wires of a split telephone pole snaking across the yard.
“Teresa, can you get those blinds open over there?” Miss Martine called to her.
Reesie knelt on the couch and let more of the weak light in. Then she pulled out her phone and tried her mother’s number.
She was stunned when her mother picked up on the first ring.
“Mama!” Every muscle in Reesie’s body relaxed.
“Reesie! Are you okay? Happy birthday, baby!”
Reesie swallowed hard. She was thirteen! She’d waited so long, expecting to feel special on this birthday. And now?
“Everything … all right … Miss Simon?” Her mother’s words were drowned out by loud static.
“Yes, but—”
“Moved patients … Your father knows where you are.… Love you—” The signal was gone. Reesie took a deep breath and turned on Dré.
“Orlando was going crazy looking for you! Uncle Jimmy evacuated to Houston.”
“I figured.” Dré shrugged. “We went to the house yesterday, and they were all gone. I know Jimmy wasn’t wastin’ time lookin’ for me.”
“That’s not true…,” Reesie began.
Dré waved her quiet. “I know my uncle, Reesie Boone. You don’t!”
“Why is that any of her business?” the girl snapped. She shifted her body closer to Dré’s. Reesie wanted to yell back that it wasn’t her business either—but she pressed her lips shut tight.
“S’alright, boo,” Dré said. “I’ve been knowin’ Reesie Boone since she and my baby brother were crumb snatchers. We can tell her and Miss M.” He grinned in the dim light.
“Tell us what?” Reesie asked.
“Me and Tree—Eritrea—we went and got married Friday. We’ve been celebrating for three days!”
“Married,” Miss Martine repeated slowly.
“Married?” Reesie squealed. “But you’re only nineteen, same as Junior! That’s—that’s—you’re—”
“Yeah, married.” Eritrea wiggled her long fingers in Reesie’s direction. “See?” A slim silver band reflected the light from the window blinds.
“How could you do something like that without even telling your own brother?” Reesie demanded. “I wouldn’t ever forgive Junior if he pulled a stunt like this!”
“I feel bad about it, ’cause Orlando’s my boy. But Jimmy don’t have no love for me. Nothin’ I ever do is right for him!”
“We’re the only family we need, right, baby?” Eritrea pulled Dré close and gave Reesie a look that dared her to say something.
“André!” Miss Martine spoke sharply, flicking on her flashlight. “That storm blew in part of the roof. Come on with me and look at it.”
“Right, Miss M!” Dré quickly separated himself from Eritrea.
Reesie had always thought of Dré as funny and a little goofy. Junior had called him flaky when he dropped out of high school. But Orlando said Dré had gotten his GED and a steady job.
“You can’t believe Dré has a wife, can you?” Eritrea whispered.
Reesie rolled her eyes. “I’m not even thinking about it,” she lied, easing past Eritrea toward the short hall that led to the bedrooms.
“Well, I’ll be! My poor house!” Miss Martine was saying. Reesie stopped so suddenly that Eritrea bumped into her.
“Watch out for the glass,” Dré warned.
A tree limb had crashed through the roof and ceiling. Light rain was pattering through the leaves. Part of the tree had taken out the window near Miss Martine’s bed, and landed on her chifforobe. The window glass had exploded into dozens of tiny fragments that were sprinkled over everything in the small room. Reesie’s sneakers crunched on the floor.
“This is bad, Miss M,” Dré murmured, shaking his locks.
Miss Martine didn’t respond. She bent slowly to pick up some matted brown thing from the floor.
“Oh!” Reesie gasped. “Is that the stone marten from your Louis Armstrong picture?” The fur hung limply in Miss Martine’s hand.
“Stone-what-you-say?” Eritrea tipped closer.
Reesie looked sadly at the wildly flowered dresses spilling out of the smashed chifforobe. Their colors and dyes were already running together as they lay soaked across the floor and bed. She forced her eyes away. All that fantastic old-school fabric!
Dré crossed the wrecked room to take a closer look at the damaged roof.
“Seems like there ought not be so much water puddled in here,” he said, crouching near the floor and making his way in slow motion around the room.
Reesie realized that he was right—every move they made squelched into the rug.
“It’s from the roof, right?” she asked.
He shook his head, looking puzzled. “Let me take a look outside.”
“It’s only a little high water,” Eritrea chimed in.
Reesie saw Miss Martine’s worried face as they headed back into the living room.
“I don’t know ’bout that,” Dré muttered. He opened the front door, and fast-moving water rushed in. Reesie was almost thrown off her feet by the quickness of it. Dré tried to push the door shut, but the force of the water was too strong.
“Help me!” he shouted. Eritrea waded in his direction, and Reesie pulled herself along the edge of the couch toward him. The three of them put all their combined weight against the door. Slowly, it moved. Dré clicked the lock and looked over his shoulder at Miss Martine.
“This ain’t only ‘a little water,’ Miss M. The water’s rising, and rising fast. We should go up into your crawl space.”
Eritrea stared at him. “Are you crazy? Up in a nasty attic with spiders and stuff?”
Miss Martine frowned. “You don’t think…” She let her words trail off. Dré started grabbing the pillows off the sofa, pushing them tightly against the bottom of the door. Reesie looked down. Water was already above their ankles.
“I don’t know what to think, Miss M, ’cept that this is trouble with a capital T!”