Read Another Kind of Hurricane for Free Online

been in Baton Rouge before?” Ms. Cyn asked Zavion, interrupting his thoughts. She motioned for him to sit with her on the bench at the bottom of the stairs. She knit and chewed her mint leaves.
    “No, ma’am,” Zavion said. He scanned the room. Skeet andPapa knelt on the floor with two men who Zavion didn’t recognize. They were playing some sort of game with marbles. A little girl played on the rug near them.
    “Well, welcome, then.”
    “Thank you, ma’am.”
    “You gonna tell me your name?”
    “Oh. Yes, ma’am,” said Zavion. “My name is Zavion.”
    “Don’t think I didn’t already know it, Zavion,” said Ms. Cyn, and she laughed a deep, loud laugh.
    Ms. Cyn’s needles flew in and out of the scarf. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a strip of yellow cloth. It was soft, like a piece of an old t-shirt. Zavion watched as she knit the cloth right into the scarf.
    “What’d you do that for?” Zavion asked.
    “What did I do?”
    “That piece of cloth. Why’d you put it into the scarf?”
    “I did it there too. See?”
    Ms. Cyn pointed one of her needles to another strip of cloth toward the bottom of the scarf. A dark orange rectangle, hard to see because the wool was almost the same color.
    “But what are they?”
    “That orange one down at the bottom is from Tavius’s t-shirt. And the yellow one here is from a shirt of Isaac’s. A little bit of family for wrapping around someone’s scrawnyneck.” The girl came running over to them. “A chicken neck just like this one. This is my grandniece, Osprey,” said Ms. Cyn, pulling on one of her pigtails. “Osprey, this is Zavion.”
    “How old are you?” Osprey asked.
    “Um—ten,” said Zavion.
    “I’m four,” she said. “My dog, Crow, died in the hurricane. This was his leash.” She held a purple nylon leash in her hand.
    “Hush,” said Ms. Cyn. She patted Osprey on the cheek. “Don’t let her sweet face sucker you. She’s fierce as a tiger.”
    Zavion glanced back at the banner. The boy under the tree looked a little like Osprey. Osprey ran back to the rug to play.
    “And those three clowns playing Ringer on the floor with your Papa—that one is Skeet, but you know him. He owns this house, and he was married to my daughter, God rest her soul, she died two years ago. Those are his two brothers, Enzo and Tavius. Enzo is Osprey’s daddy. They escaped New Orleans like you.” Ms. Cyn took a deep breath. “And me. The only other person you need to know is me, Ms. Cyn. The Queen of Baton Rouge.” Ms. Cyn laughed a deep, minty laugh.
    Zavion tried to repeat these new names inside his head, but pictures raced through it instead. His house. The water. The roof shingles. Luna Market. Chocolate bars. Rain.
    “Go on into that blue bathroom, Zavion,” said Ms. Cyn.“Change your shirt. Change your pants.” She pointed her knitting needle at Zavion’s sleeve. Blood was splattered across it. He hadn’t even noticed.
    “I cut my leg—” he mumbled.
    “Tavius!” Ms. Cyn yelled to one of the men on the floor.
    “Yes, ma’am?”
    “Get this boy, Zavion, some new clothes.”
    Tavius reached behind a couch and pulled out a plastic bag. “Here!” he yelled to Zavion, tossing the bag.
    “Thank you,” said Zavion.
    “We got first pick at the Salvation Army.”
    “How come we got first pick?” teased Enzo.
    “Is it ’cause Pierre has a crush on you?” Skeet knocked his shoulder into Tavius’s shoulder.
    Tavius grinned.
    “Go wash out that cut, Zavion. There’s first aid cream in the bathroom,” said Ms. Cyn.
    Zavion managed to stand. Walk across the room. He pushed open the bathroom door and fell against it as it closed. He jumped. Something moved up his back. He turned to look, but nothing was on the door. Whatever it was moved under his t-shirt. Crawled on his skin. He reached his hand through the neck of his shirt to his shoulder. His hand swept from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. Nothing was there. But still, he