Another Kind of Hurricane (21 page)

After the trivia game, which Henry won hands down, everyone drifted off to sleep. But Henry couldn't. He wasn't sure why. It wasn't because he was in a new house. It wasn't because he was without Brae, although he missed him something fierce. And it wasn't because of the new breathing all around him, a chorus of inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale. That was music to his ears.

So was the lone voice he had heard earlier, coming from the kitchen.

—

Henry hummed the song now. If Zavion could be brave and sing, maybe he could too. He opened his mouth. Took a deep breath. As he held it, he listened again to the in and out, up and down, steady and powerful life all around him. He closed his mouth again. He didn't want to ruin all that beautiful music.

—

He climbed up the ladder leaning against the house and pulled himself onto the low roof. The sky was clear and the moon was bright. He could see the whole block from where he sat, identical ranch houses with fenced-in backyards.

“What are you doing up there?”

Henry looked down to see Osprey staring at him, her eyes shining in the dark night.

“Just wanted to climb, I guess.”

“Can I climb too?” Osprey put her bare foot on the bottom rung of the ladder.

“Shoot. Hold on.” Henry inched his way to the edge of the roof and jumped down. “Okay, you go first and I'll follow you.” Osprey's legs moved slowly up the ladder. When she got to the top rung, Henry squeezed around her onto the roof and then grabbed her hands and guided her up. She had the leash wrapped around her wrist.

“You're making me nervous,” said Henry. “Sit down, okay?”

“Why'd you come up here?” said Osprey. She squatted next to Henry.

“I dunno. I couldn't go to sleep.”

“Me too.”

Henry lay back so his head was resting on the roof. Osprey lay down too. A cloud passed in front of the moon, darkening the sky for an instant, like a big eye blinking shut, and Osprey
almost disappeared. Then the eye opened again and Osprey came back into view.

“I feel big up here,” said Osprey. She wiggled her head up onto Henry's chest, right under his chin. Her hair was spongy and soft. “This is so much better than being inside. Don't you think so, Henry?”

“Yup.”

Osprey pointed her finger into the sky and then jammed it into Henry's rib. “Are you going home soon?”

“Owww—yeah, I guess.” Henry rubbed his side and Osprey grabbed his hand. He couldn't believe it, but he was going to miss this kid. “I'll send you a picture of Brae,” he said.

“Who's Brae? An animal?”

“Yup.”

“A pig?”

“Nope.”

“A sheep?”

“Nope.”

“A cow?”

“Yup.”

“A cow?!”

“Yup. Part cow.”

“Part cow?!”

“Yup. And part dog.”

“A cow-dog?” said Osprey, her eyes getting wide.

“Yup.”

“I never heard of a cow-dog.”

“Oh, they're very rare. You only find them in Vermont.”

Osprey clapped her hands. She unwrapped the leash from around her wrist. “You can put this on Brae, okay? It should go on a real dog. A real cow-dog.”

Henry took the leash. It was warm from being in Osprey's hand. “Thank you, Falcon,” he said.

Falcon
.

The PBS special!

Peregrine falcon!

And the red-breasted goose!

“You want to hear something?” said Henry.

“Yes,” said Osprey.

“In the Siberian tundra, the arctic fox is always hungry. They want to eat the red-breasted geese that live there.”

“Poor geese,” said Osprey.

“Yup. But the peregrine falcons take care of the geese. The falcons know how to fight the fox.”

“I like the falcons!”

“Me too. You want to hear something else?”

“Yes.”

“The geese take care of the falcons too. I just remembered
that. The geese make a great loud alarm call that warns the falcons when the fox is approaching.”

“Oh! I like the geese!”

“Me too,” said Henry. “I like the way they work together. It's kind of like…magic.”

“Like a magic!” said Osprey.

A magic
.

Henry liked that.

“Zavion has a magic,” said Osprey.

“He does? What is it?”

“It's a secret.”

A secret
.

Henry knew about secrets.

But a secret that was a magic?

“Maybe my leash is a magic, Henry,” said Osprey.

“I bet it is,” said Henry. He gripped the leash. “I'll take a picture of Brae wearing this and send it to you.”

And then he had a flash of an idea. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the tiny wooden car from the Salvation Army. He had almost forgotten he had it. “This is from Vermont,” he said. “It's for you.”

And he knew, with certainty, that it was.

“And maybe this is a magic too!” squealed Osprey.

She took the little car and then leaned back again on
Henry's chest. She ran the car up and down his arm. “This is where you live,” she said, placing the car on Henry's wrist. “And this is where I live,” she said, driving it along his arm to his shoulder.

“Not too far,” he said.

“Nope.”

Henry stared into the sky and the moon stared back at him, watched him as he looked down at Osprey, who closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around him. As he rested his chin on Osprey's head, he felt that tugging feeling again. He imagined that the peregrine falcon and the red-breasted goose felt it tug between them too. It was a funny feeling. Funny, but good. A rooted kind of feeling, pulling him to the ground, even though he was up in the sky.

Up on a ladder, Papa was painting one of the living room walls. Zavion needed to tell Papa that they should go to Vermont with Henry and Jake. He ran his hand down Tiger's wing feathers, felt the muscles under them, felt how strong his wings were and imagined just how high he could fly. He tried to soak in some of Tiger's strength through his fingertips.

“What are you going to paint?” said Zavion.

“This is it,” said Papa.

“No jazz band?”

“Nope.”

“No fishing boat?”

“Nope. Just this green and then wait for it to dry and then another coat of green. Like a professional painter, right?” Papa looked happy. He was comfortable, way up there, balanced on a rung. He was comfortable anywhere if he had a paintbrush
in his hand. “I spoke with your uncle Gabe yesterday. He says he has room for us.”

“No!” said Zavion. Tiger squawked and flapped his wings. The
no
had more force than Zavion expected such a tiny word to have.

“Room for us for what?” he said quietly.

“To live with him.”

“To live with him? I don't even want to visit him! Papa—” he said, trying to calm his voice as he scrambled inside his head for something to say. “It looks like you're painting another mountain on a wall.”

“It's a green wall.”

“Well, mountains are green.”

“Enough with the broken-record mountain song over and over again, okay?”

Zavion watched Papa paint some more. He tried not to speak. He tried to keep the words from rising up like a wave and crashing over the levee. But sometimes waves have a pull and a push and a force that one single person can't hope to control.

“But it's true,” Zavion blurted out. “They are green. Especially Vermont mountains.”

“I've never seen a Vermont mountain, Zav. So I don't know if this looks like one or not.”

“I doubt they're that awful minty color,” piped up Ms. Cyn. She and Skeet came in from the kitchen.

“Morning,” said Papa.

“I brought you some breakfast,” she said, putting down a tray. “And I'll have you know that I made a personal visit to the kitchen to get it.”

“Be impressed,” said Skeet.

“I am,” said Papa.

“I am too,” said Skeet. “With both Ms. Cyn and you. Your painting job is excellent. Thanks for agreeing to repaint this room for me….” His voice trailed off. “You know what? I bet I could find you more painting work—for pay. Would you want that?”

Skeet was distracting Papa. Zavion had to keep him focused.

“Work is good,” agreed Papa.

“I wonder…,” Skeet mumbled. “I have an idea….” And then he was gone.

“You've seen a North Carolina mountain, right, Papa?” Zavion jumped in. “Isn't this the same color as Mama's mountain?” The paintbrush in Papa's hand shook the tiniest bit. “After Mama traveled to New Orleans and found you, didn't she take you back to North Carolina? To Grandmother Mountain? Didn't you get to see Mama's mountain?”

“Quiet, Zavion!”

The door slammed just as Papa yelled.

“Quiet!” squawked Tiger, directly into Zavion's ear.

Osprey ran through the room. Henry sauntered in behind her.

“Watch out for the wet paint,” said Ms. Cyn.

“I told Gabe we would go to Kansas right away,” said Papa, his voice quiet again. “There's no reason not to.”

“You should come to Vermont first,” said Henry. “That's a reason right there.”

Henry still wanted to take Zavion and Ben to Vermont. He wanted to take Zavion up Mount Mansfield. He had told Mom when she called.

“Why?” Mom had asked.

Henry was silent. He didn't know how to answer her. He was surprised by his desire, actually. He had wondered if it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, an idea he would feel was the worst one he had baked up in his whole entire life, after he had slept on it. But that hadn't happened. He didn't understand why, but he felt even more sure about it than before.

“Well, I can't wait to see you—” Mom interrupted his thoughts. “And I would love to meet your new friend.” She didn't ask again why he wanted to bring Zavion, which, weirdly, made Henry miss her. “Brae's not the only one who misses you,” she said, as if she could read his mind.

“It's only been two days.”

If he said he missed her too, he might cry.

“Well, I still can't wait to see you,” said Mom. “With or without Zavion.”

With Zavion.

Henry was determined.

At this moment, although he couldn't explain it or understand it and—Jeezum Crow, he would never say it to anyone else—he might tell Cora that taking Zavion to Vermont was his heart's desire.