Another Kind of Hurricane (24 page)

It was cleaner along the edge of the highway here. Henry noticed that as he watched the yellow line whiz by. In Louisiana, there had been a steady stream of garbage. Here, he saw one lone black plastic bag, ripped, its insides spilling out along the shoulder of the road. And a dead raccoon. Henry wondered if the raccoon had broken open the bag.

The yellow line rushed by. Mile markers came and went. Each of the eighteen wheels of the truck turned like a marble. Over and over and over as Jake drove north.

Henry felt like an elastic band had been fully stretched, and it was now snapping him back home.

Right before they left, Ms. Cyn had given him a gift.

—

Zavion untied the string on the wrapping. A scarf. Zavion unfolded it. The scarf. He looked at all the pieces Ms. Cyn had added to it. One for each person he had come to know in this house. Tavius, Enzo, Skeet, and Osprey. There was even a piece of Cora's potholder, Pierre's cap, and the logo from Luna's grocery bag
.

“I put something in there too,” said Henry. “See the corner of my football shirt?”

“Almost had to tackle him to get it,” said Ms. Cyn
.

“And I almost had to tackle her back. You have enough of my stuff,” said Henry. “My jeans, my marble—shoot, what else do you want?”

Henry was right. Zavion couldn't imagine wearing any other jeans
.

“This one's mine,” Ms. Cyn said. She pointed to a square of cloth that had a bird right in the center of it. It looked familiar
.

“The banner!” Zavion suddenly remembered seeing it the first day he was here. The banner with the boy sitting under the tree and the book turning into a bird. The gratitude banner. It felt like a long time ago. “The banner is yours?”

Ms. Cyn nodded. “It's the only thing I brought from New Orleans,” she said. “It's the only thing I was able to take from my house. Skeet made it for me.”

Zavion looked up on the wall. The banner was there, but with a small square missing
.

—

Zavion pulled the scarf tighter around his neck. It was colder up north.

Henry had done one thing before leaving for Vermont.

—

Diana greeted them at the door. Parrots were in cages everywhere—on tables, under tables, on chairs, on stairs, in hallways
.

“Incredible, right?” Diana said
.

“These are only a fraction of the birds that are missing.” A man walked into the room with another woman
.

“Lee is my son,” said Diana. “And this is Dr. Burke. These are the boys I was telling you about. Zavion and Henry.”

“I still can't believe you stowed away in our van,” said Lee, patting Zavion on the shoulder. “Outstanding work.” He shook Henry's hand. “And you—” he said. “Outstanding work too.”

“Thank you,” said Henry
.

“You sure you don't want to stay and work with us?”

Henry hadn't been sure. Not at all
.

“Lee is right, you know,” said Dr. Burke. “In fact, these are only a fraction of a fraction of the pets that are missing.”

Dogs flashed through Henry's mind
.

Cats too
.

One cat
.

“I wish I could find them all,” he said. He gripped the handle of Tiger's cage. “But what do I do with Tiger now?”

Henry opened the cage and sat at the kitchen table with Tiger on his shoulder and tried to answer all of Diana's questions. He tried to tell the whole story. He was pretty sure he hadn't left anything out. When he was finished, he listened to other parrots around him
.

Words and bits of phrases
.

Hello
.

Who is it?

Come and get it!

It's about time
.

Hello. Where were you? Hello
.

Come back
.

Hello. Hello. Hello
.

When he was done listening to the parrots speak, Henry realized he had one more thing to add to their stories. “My friend—his cat—he had a cat,” he said. “His name is Tiger too.
He's lost—the other Tiger. Please—find this Tiger's family. I think they're alive. And if they're not—I know a little girl who would love to take Tiger home.”

—

While Henry slept in the truck, he dreamed of “This Little Light of Mine” sang by a chorus of birds.

Zavion must have fallen asleep again. As he stretched his arms over his head, he saw the edges of the hills in focus now. In the climbing light of the sun, he could see they were taller here.

“Are we almost there?” he whispered to Jake.

“Yup—” Henry's eyes weren't even open.

“Morning, boys,” said Jake.

“Is it morning already?” Papa's gravelly voice came from behind Zavion.

The truck stopped at a T in the road. The sun rose up fast and a yellow glow seeped into the air. Jake put on his right blinker. “Henry's exactly right. We're almost there,” he said. “Look.” As they made the turn, a mountain appeared out of nowhere like the sky had birthed it just at that moment.

Zavion's heart pounded with excitement.

Henry's heart pounded with fear.