Another Kind of Hurricane by Tamara Ellis Smith Page B

while they were at it. He was pretty sure he knew the way to her house.
    “Nope,” said Osprey. She turned in the opposite directionand began skipping down the block. “Sorry, Zavion,” she sang over her shoulder. “Green is dragging me this way.”
    Zavion jogged down the block after her. “Hey! Hold up—”
    But Osprey only sped up. “Green!” she yelled. “You know how dogs are—” Her voice was hard to hear now. She was so far ahead of him.
    Zavion caught up to her and grabbed the leash. “Whoa,” he said, playing along. “C’mon now, Green. Ease up.”
    Osprey giggled and stopped running. Then she flopped onto the sidewalk. “Green’s tired. He needs to rest.”
    Zavion was tired too. He sat down next to Osprey.
    “What am I going to do with you?” he said.
    Osprey scooped Green into her lap and rocked the shoe. Osprey reminded Zavion of Mama all of a sudden. He didn’t want to remember Mama right now. Right here. For the second time that day, sadness washed over him like a wave.
    The wave must have gotten Osprey wet too because she said, “I love Green, but I loved Crow just a little bit more.” She turned to Zavion, her eyes wide. “Is that okay to say?”
    “Oh, yes,” said Zavion. “That makes sense.” He reached out and patted Green. “Green is great, but Crow—I bet he was amazing.”
    Osprey nodded. “He was. Uncle Skeet gave him to me. When Mama was just getting sick. He was a puppy when I gothim, but a big puppy! And he would sit on my lap! Uncle Skeet hauled him off me the first time he plopped down, but I kind of liked it. I kind of liked it a lot.”
    “You did?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “He didn’t knock the breath out of you?”
    Osprey giggled again. “A little. But I liked it. I told Uncle Skeet I liked it. He told me Crow must have thought his job was to make sure I didn’t float away.”
    “I bet you didn’t, under all that dog,” he said.
    “Nope.” Osprey leaned in toward Zavion. “But you want to know a secret?”
    Zavion nodded.
    “Dogs are a magic. Sometimes Crow would sit next to me, and only his tail was on my lap. And I
still
didn’t float away.” Osprey’s face looked so serious. “Uncle Skeet told me that anyone whose Mama floated up into heaven needed a dog to keep her from floating up too.” Osprey hugged Green to her chest. “But Uncle Skeet and me—we forgot that Crow needed a cat—”
    Zavion was puzzled. “A cat?”
    Osprey nodded. “To keep him from floating away.”
    —
    Another wave, and another and another. Zavion stood up so he wouldn’t get so wet and took Osprey’s hand and pulled herup too. As they walked down the block, Zavion thought about how he wanted a dog now. He wanted Mama to have a dog. He wanted every single person in New Orleans to have a dog, and their dog a cat, and the cat a rat, so that they all could stop floating away—
    Zavion wondered if a mountain could keep a person from floating away too.
    He believed it could.
    A van was parked in the driveway of a blue house in the middle of the street. Birdcages were littered all around it. They were all empty. He walked down the driveway.
    “This must be it. ‘Diana’s Parrot Rescue,’ ” he read off the side of the van. He stood still for a moment, not sure what he should do.
    “Look at what I taught Green!” Osprey sang out.
    “Shhhhhhhhh,” said Zavion, rushing back to her.
    “Watch!” She ran down the driveway, dropped her leash, and then ran back to Zavion. She pulled a peanut out of her pocket and threw it at the sneaker. “Fetch, Green!” The peanut landed next to Green, on the driveway. “He’s still learning,” she said.
    Zavion walked tentatively toward Osprey and then continued inside the garage. “Wow—it’s like a bird arcade in here.” More cages were stacked inside, all of them filled with birds.Parrots, macaws, cockatoos, cockatiels, parakeets—there must have been fifty birds altogether. Zavion knelt in front of a cage and put out