Finding Someplace by Denise Lewis Patrick Page A

they were all gone. I know Jimmy wasn’t wastin’ time lookin’ for me.”
    â€œThat’s not true…,” Reesie began.
    Dr é waved her quiet. “I know my uncle, Reesie Boone. You don’t!”
    â€œWhy is that any of her business?” the girl snapped. She shifted her body closer to Dr é ’s. Reesie wanted to yell back that it wasn’t her business either—but she pressed her lips shut tight.
    â€œS’alright, boo,” Dr é 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.
    â€œTell us what?” Reesie asked.
    â€œMe and Tree—Eritrea—we went and got married Friday. We’ve been celebrating for three days!”
    â€œMarried,” Miss Martine repeated slowly.
    â€œMarried?” Reesie squealed. “But you’re only nineteen, same as Junior! That’s—that’s—you’re—”
    â€œYeah, married .” Eritrea wiggled her long fingers in Reesie’s direction. “See?” A slim silver band reflected the light from the window blinds.
    â€œHow 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!”
    â€œI 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!”
    â€œWe’re the only family we need, right, baby?” Eritrea pulled Dr é close and gave Reesie a look that dared her to say something.
    â€œAndr é !” Miss Martine spoke sharply, flicking on her flashlight. “That storm blew in part of the roof. Come on with me and look at it.”
    â€œRight, Miss M!” Dr é quickly separated himself from Eritrea.
    Reesie had always thought of Dr é as funny and a little goofy. Junior had called him flaky when he dropped out of high school. But Orlando said Dr é had gotten his GED and a steady job.
    â€œYou can’t believe Dr é 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.
    â€œWell, I’ll be! My poor house!” Miss Martine was saying. Reesie stopped so suddenly that Eritrea bumped into her.
    â€œWatch out for the glass,” Dr é 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.
    â€œThis is bad, Miss M,” Dr é murmured, shaking his locks.
    Miss Martine didn’t respond. She bent slowly to pick up some matted brown thing from the floor.
    â€œOh!” Reesie gasped. “Is that the stone marten from your Louis Armstrong picture?” The fur hung limply in Miss Martine’s hand.
    â€œStone-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!
    Dr é crossed the wrecked room to take a closer look at the damaged roof.
    â€œSeems 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.
    â€œIt’s from the roof, right?” she asked.
    He shook his head, looking puzzled. “Let me take a look outside.”
    â€œIt’s