Read Finding Someplace for Free Online

old lady stopped to pull out a key from one of her many pockets.
    â€œWow,” Reesie said. “Your shed is fancier than some of the houses around here!”
    Miss Martine laughed. “I know. Andr é built it for me. It was one of his shop class projects.”
    Reesie’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Andr é Knight? Dr é ?”
    â€œWhy, yes.” Miss M arranged her plants in a row on a rough wooden bench just inside the shed doorway. “I knew his mother. He spent a lot of time with me after she passed away.”
    â€œI didn’t know that … and I didn’t know he could do anything like this.” Reesie ran her hand along the neat wall of bricks.
    â€œI guess you know the younger boy better,” Miss Martine said, turning around.
    â€œOh, uh, Orlando?” Reesie felt herself blushing. She wanted to change the subject, and fast. “Yes, ma’am. Miss Martine, don’t you want me to take in everything that’s ready to pick in your garden?”
    â€œThat’s a good idea,” Miss Martine answered. “The cabbage and okra … I have some baskets here—”
    â€œAlready on it!” Reesie scooped up an empty basket and hurried out of the shed.
    Around noon, Reesie was bent in the backyard between rows of pole beans when her phone buzzed. She plopped the half-filled basket on the ground.
    WHERE R U? It was her mother.
    MS. M she tapped back. There was no immediate response. She tried dialing, but her call went directly to voice mail.
    â€œTeresa!” Miss Martine called out from the kitchen window. “That’s enough, in this heat! Come cool off and have some lemonade!”
    â€œYes, ma’am!” The drizzle had turned into light rain, and Reesie felt her shoulders aching as she lugged the beans toward the screen door. Her stomach growled when she entered the kitchen, which was filled with the smells of vanilla and coconut.
    â€œYou might as well have a look at your birthday cake,” Miss Martine said, motioning toward the Formica counter.
    Reesie popped the tape on the lid of the large white box and lifted a corner. Three layers of coconut-topped goodness were nestled carefully inside. She took a deep sniff and couldn’t resist swiping her finger along the edge of the cake. It was hers, wasn’t it?
    â€œMmmm…” She smiled.
    â€œDid you hear from your uncle yet?” Miss Martine was piling fried catfish on top of an open sandwich roll. “On the radio they’re saying the mayor has all roads leading in one direction— out .”
    â€œYes, that’s what my parraine told me!” Reesie raised her voice over the running water as she washed her hands at the sink. “But he’s trying to get here another way.”
    Miss Martine put the sandwich on her old-fashioned, chrome-edged kitchen table and opened the fridge to take out mayo and mustard. She looked at Reesie over the top of her cat-eye glasses as she sat down.
    â€œI guess this Katrina’s going to be more serious than we thought. If he can’t get here, you might just have to wait it out with me.”
    Reesie bit into her sandwich and thought for a minute while she chewed. “Miss M, would you ever leave New Orleans?”
    Miss Martine shrugged and poured lemonade. “I’m too old, don’t have anywhere to go. Besides”—she blinked—“the one time I did leave town, things didn’t turn out so well.”
    Reesie was surprised. For her whole lifetime, Miss Martine had always lived just up the street.
    â€œWhat storm was it?” she asked, swirling the last bit of her sandwich in a puddle of ketchup. “Was it Camille, the one Daddy always talks about?”
    Miss Martine shook her head. “It was a different kind of storm, child. Come on, I have some pictures that will show you what I mean.”
    Reesie took her time gulping down the last of her lemonade.