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“I’ll be in my room if ya need me.” She snatched the white bag holding her apple fritters off the edge of the counter where I’d put it. She stuck her nose into the air and disappeared around the corner.

    My cousin TayTay, whose real name is Quantayvea, came over after the ambulance left. She’s been my best friend since the day I was born. She used to live down the road from us, but when her mama—my daddy’s stepsister—ran off the year before, TayTay moved across the river to Chalmette to stay with her grandma. Since then, I only got to see her on the weekends when she came to stay with her dad on the south side of the Nines. I didn’t like calling him
Uncle
Alvin, on account of the way he treated TayTay. He was always passed out drunk somewhere, leaving his only child to fend for herself. And besides that, he was mean to her—real mean.
    TayTay knew when
not
to ask too many questions. I liked that about her. I never did care much for anyone trying to get all up in my business. Like my second cousin, Danisha. That girl was messy, always acting like you was her best friend, then going around talking all kinds of trash about you behind your back.
    It was fixin’ to be lunchtime, and all us kids were scattered here and there in the living room. Georgie was helping Kheelin build a city out of blocks for his little cars to drive through, but as fast as the boys could stack them, Khayla knocked the blocks down. Georgie pretended to be upset by throwing hisself on the floor in a tizzy fit each time.
    After a good while, Memaw came wandering out from her bedroom and sank into her chair. She let out a long, sleepy-sounding sigh.
    Mama looked in from the kitchen. “Armani, get Memaw a glass of water.”
    â€œY’all better stop all this fussin’ over me! Now, I mean it! If I want a glass of water, I’ll get myself a glass of water!” Memaw was known for speaking her mind, but she didn’t usually raise her voice like she did just then. She turned the TV on with the clicker but left the volume down.
    â€œWe’re just worried about you, Mama Jean,” Daddy said, walking into the living room. He stood with his arms folded up across his chest.
    Memaw let out an aggravated sigh. “Well, all this carin’ an’ lovin’ has plumb tuckered me out.” She noticed we were all staring at her. She clapped her hands together so fast and loud that everyone jumped. You would’ve swore lightning had just gone and struck the house!
    Everyone stopped staring, looking anywhere but at Memaw.
    â€œAll right then. That’s better. Now let’s eat some lunch. I’m starvin’.”

    Daddy showed us the tracking chart that he’d got from Mr. Pete. He explained that it was a map to help people follow the path of storms.
    â€œWhen I spoke to Leroy this morning at Pete’s, we agreed it’s wise to track anything that comes into the Gulf—like Hurricane Katrina.”
    â€œYeah, but it’s not comin’ here, right, Daddy?” I asked, after swallowing a mouthful of chicken and biscuit.
    â€œWell, according to the latest coordinates, it looks like it’s still headed toward Florida.” His finger moved slowly through the Gulf of Mexico and into the upper left side of Florida.
    â€œOh, those poor souls in Florida,” Mama said, wiping lunch goo off the twins’ faces.
    â€œBetter them than us,” Georgie piped in.
    Mama’s hand stopped wiping and her eyes tore into Georgie. “George Joseph Curtis Jr., don’t you ever wish harm on others!” Whenever Mama used someone’s full name like that, it meant she was mad as a hornet in a pickle jar.
    â€œSorry, Mama.” Georgie sat back in his chair, quiet for a change. If you asked me, that boy needed to grow up and stop acting like such a child.

CHAPTER 5
    Daddy was staring for way too long at the cardboard map again.
    â€œAre