AUGUST 28, 8:30 AM
The mayor of New Orleans was whispering in Reesie’s ear. She sat up suddenly. No, he wasn’t—she’d left the TV on all night. Light was peeking through her blinds, and Mayor Ray Nagin was on the television screen.
“This is a threat that we’ve never faced before,” he was saying. The people surrounding him on the screen were grim-faced, and even the governor of Louisiana was wide-eyed.
“The first choice is for every citizen to figure out a way to leave the city.”
“Dang!” Reesie blurted aloud, but she was sort of relieved that she already had her own plans made. She squinted at the time on her clock. She hopped up and changed her slept-in clothes for jeans and the yellow baby-doll shirt she’d made last summer. Where was that Army backpack that Parraine had given her? She could jam lots more stuff in it. She lay across her bed to reach between it and the wall. Dust bunnies hopped up into her nose, and she sneezed just as her fingers grasped the webbed strap.
She tripped over clothes as she grabbed random items. First her black-and-green-striped notebook from the bedside table, along with her favorite fine-tipped marker. Keeping it moving, she made a quick pass through the bathroom, stuffing her Quick Sheen hair oil, soft brush, wrap pins, and lip gloss into the backpack. The lip gloss made her think of her toothbrush, which she hurriedly wrapped in a paper towel.
The landline started ringing.
Reesie ran into the living room, but the call had already gone to the answering machine. It was Miss Martine. Reesie had completely forgotten that she was supposed to pick up her cake—and that she’d promised herself yesterday she would help Miss M in her garden.
“Teresa? Are you there? What about your cake?”
Miss Martine had never sounded old like that before. She stood as straight as a six-foot-tall post, drove her own Cadillac, and had even mowed her own grass until Daddy made Junior start doing it. But listening to her now, Reesie realized she must be up there in age. Ma Maw’s face flashed in Reesie’s mind. Miss Martine was at least as old as her grandmother would’ve been.
She snatched the receiver up. “Yes, ma’am! I’m coming, and I can help you get your yard things inside!” she heard herself saying. “I’ll be over in a few minutes.”
She ran back through the house, shutting off light switches, lowering the thermostat on the air conditioner. She gave the contents of her backpack one last check.
Somebody was knocking on the front door. “Who in the world could that be?” she wondered aloud, jerking the door open impatiently.
“Orlando?” Reesie shouted, then wished she hadn’t. But Orlando didn’t seem to notice that, or the drizzle that started falling. He shifted from one foot to the other with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his cargo shorts. She could tell something was wrong.
“I thought you’d be in Texas by now!”
“We can’t find Dré. I had to talk Uncle Jimmy down from leaving his butt behind. Girl, Jimmy is heated! Have you seen André?” Orlando’s words ran together fast, the way they always did when he was upset.
Reesie shook her head. “No.” Dré had always been loveable, but always trouble. Still, he and Orlando were close brothers.
“Dang!” Orlando ducked his head. “Sorry, Peanut Butter … Your daddy isn’t here, is he?” A flicker of a smile played on his face, but it quickly disappeared. “It’s just that Jimmy says he’s leaving in thirty minutes, Dré or no. Now that Nagin put out that mandatory evacuation order, all the highways are one-way outta here.”
“For real?” Reesie’s heart pounded.
“Yeah. You could come with us, Reesie!” Orlando said, looking hopeful. But she shook her head, telling herself there was no need to panic yet.
“No, thanks. Parraine is coming to get me.”
“You sure?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well…” He moved to leave, his hands still in his pockets. But then he turned back quickly and kissed her right on her mouth.
Reesie went numb from her brain down. She just froze, feeling Orlando’s warm, wet lips pressed against hers. She felt like they stood there for thirty minutes!
But in thirty seconds, Orlando was easing away.
“Bye,” Reesie whispered.
“Don’t say ‘bye,’ say ‘later,’ Peanut Butter,” he called without looking back. He sprinted off. Reesie had to remember to breathe.
“Later!” she croaked after him. “Hope you find Dré!” Her head was spinning—and somebody was singing. For a minute she forgot the wide open door and the sharp raindrops pelting in. Then the ringtone of her cell finally penetrated her brain.
“Reesie!”
“Parraine!”
“The state troopers are sayin’ the highway is closed southbound. They’re not lettin’ folks on. I’m gonna try a back way, but traffic is ridiculous. Keep your phone on.…”
Reesie snapped fully back to reality sometime after the word highway.
“Parraine, do you have room for somebody else?”
“Girl! Who?”
“Miss Martine, the lady who lives—”
“The coconut cake lady? If she brings one of those cakes, I got room!”
“Thanks! Thanks! Can you pick us up by her house? I’ll lock everything over here.”
“All right. Wait—Charmaine is tryin’ to take the phone.…” In a second her aunt was speaking.
“Reesie? Don’t try to bring everything you own, hear? Only the really important things.”
“Okay. Bye!” Reesie was about to swing her backpack onto her shoulders when she thought about what Tee Charmaine had said. She remembered that her mother kept a brown envelope on her closet shelf marked IMPORTANT PAPERS. Reesie knew that birth certificates and stuff to do with their house were in it.
She immediately went into her parents’ room. For a minute she hesitated—it felt weird going into their private space without permission. But what if the hurricane was really bad? What if they needed something in that envelope? She opened the closet door and found it easily. She carefully slid the envelope into her backpack, picked up her house keys, and stopped at the mirror by the door.
“I can’t believe it took a hurricane for Orlando to kiss me,” she told her mirror self.
She replayed the moment inside her head, smiling, and then her eyes focused on the scattered arrangement of pictures on the hall table. In the middle was Ma Maw, smiling and hugging Daddy when he’d gotten some promotion or another. Reesie impulsively picked it up, frame and all, and took a minute to zip it into her backpack. It was a nice old memory to go along with this sweet new one.
“I’ll be back,” she said to the memory-filled room reflected in the mirror. “Sooner than you think!” Then she grabbed one of Junior’s caps off the hat rack by the door and slammed out.