Finding Someplace by Denise Lewis Patrick Page B

only a little high water,” Eritrea chimed in.
    Reesie saw Miss Martine’s worried face as they headed back into the living room.
    â€œI don’t know ’bout that,” Dr é muttered. He opened the front door, and fast-moving water rushed in. Reesie was almost thrown off her feet by the quickness of it. Dr é tried to push the door shut, but the force of the water was too strong.
    â€œHelp me!” he shouted. Eritrea waded in his direction, and Reesie pulled herself along the edge of the couch toward him. The three of them put all their combined weight against the door. Slowly, it moved. Dr é clicked the lock and looked over his shoulder at Miss Martine.
    â€œThis ain’t only ‘a little water,’ Miss M. The water’s rising, and rising fast. We should go up into your crawl space.”
    Eritrea stared at him. “Are you crazy? Up in a nasty attic with spiders and stuff?”
    Miss Martine frowned. “You don’t think…” She let her words trail off. Dr é started grabbing the pillows off the sofa, pushing them tightly against the bottom of the door. Reesie looked down. Water was already above their ankles.
    â€œI don’t know what to think, Miss M, ’cept that this is trouble with a capital T !”

 
    Chapter Eleven
    â€œExactly what kind of trouble?” Reesie’s voice didn’t sound teenage to her own ears. It sounded small and scared.
    â€œTrouble with the levee, Boone,” Dr é answered.
    Reesie could only nod. She’d heard over and over in her junior-high Louisiana history classes that one of the things that made New Orleans special was the way most of the city was situated. The city’s bowl-shaped landscape was positioned between Lake Pontchartrain on the north end and the great Mississippi River on the south. The low land was protected by high banks of earth called levees . If the waters rose too high, or if the levees ever leaked, the city could be flooded.
    â€œThis water should be in the bathtub!” Eritrea was indignant.
    â€œYeah, well, bathtubs can overflow, can’t they?” Dr é said.
    The water was already swirling around their calves. The pale carpet underneath looked like sand at a beach. The heat and heavy humidity in the house was sucking the air away, and Reesie’s chest felt tight. What if she had to swim?
    â€œMiss M, you got something like a crowbar or sledgehammer?” Dr é asked.
    â€œLook in that hall closet!” Miss Martine had made her way into the kitchen. Dishes clinked and cabinet doors slammed shut.
    Reesie looked at Dr é as if he had lost his mind. “Why do you need that?”
    â€œIn case we need to chop our way out of the attic, Reesie Boone. Now come on, you and Tree help me get the attic ladder down.”
    â€œThis is crazy,” Eritrea murmured, shaking her head. She kicked off her heels. “We just got married!” Her voice was shaking. “This is supposed to be a special time. A happy time, right?”
    â€œYeah,” Reesie said, strapping her backpack onto her shoulders. “Special.” As she started after Eritrea, something on the dining room table caught her eye—it was Miss Martine’s book of poems. Without thinking, she picked it up to put it into the backpack. Then her eyes traveled up the wall to Louis Armstrong, and she swiped down his picture.
    â€œWho’s in that picture?” Eritrea asked curiously.
    â€œIt’s just something special to Miss M,” Reesie said. She knew she sounded rude, but she didn’t feel like trying to explain. Mr. Louis Armstrong and Woman Everlasting were absolutely the last items that would fit before her bag burst at the seams.
    Dr é pulled one of the heavy dining room chairs into the hall so it was underneath the trapdoor in the ceiling that led to the crawl space.
    Reesie and Eritrea held the chair steady so Dr é could climb up to reach the latch.