Part 12 (2/2)

He typed Yellow Pages into the search box and then typed Luna Market, 311 Chartres Street, New Orleans, Louisiana.

It was there!

”I found it,” said Zavion.

”Heres the phone,” said Papa.

Zavion stood behind him and punched in the number. He squeezed the marble with his other hand. For luck. He swallowed hard. What would he say? He hadnt thought about that.

He glanced over Papas shoulder. The sunlight, streaming in from the side window, lit up a corner of his painting. A purplish-blue color s.h.i.+mmered there. Zavion leaned forward to get a better look. A tiny marsh under a full moon.

Papa seemed obsessed with these landscapes he could hold in his hand. There was something rea.s.suring to Zavion about that.

”Well-” said Papa, startling Zavion.

The phone! Zavion had forgotten that he was on the phone.

No ringing. No sound. Silence.

”Nothing,” he had to admit. He handed the phone back to Papa.

”Phone lines have to be down,” said Papa. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. ”Its too soon.”

And the way he said it made Zavion think that he meant it was too soon to even think about New Orleans.

”Go on, Zav,” said Papa. ”You need to go for a run-”

”I need to repay the store,” said Zavion.

Papa sighed. ”How about you send money later when we get some?”

Zavion couldnt wait until later. He didnt trust that the mail service would get the money to the market. He couldnt risk that. This was something he had to do in person. He had to look the cas.h.i.+er in the eyes. He had to make sure he was understood.

”Please, Papa.” He was going to try one more time. ”Please take me to New Orleans.”

”No.”

Zavion knew he would say no.

If Papa wouldnt do it with him, then he was going to do it alone.

”Then Im going to go by myself.” There. He had said it out loud. He felt his heart beating in the wrong place, up against the bottom of his throat.

Papa looked up from his painting. He stared at Zavion without blinking. Zavion had the same wide, long eyelashes-he had Papas eyes and cheeks, but he had Mamas nose and mouth-and his eyelashes fluttered furiously as he blinked and blinked and blinked while Papas sat frozen above his eyes.

Zavion knew that Papa usually, eventually, let him do things his way. Even if Papa had more control over his eye muscles and knew how to hold a paintbrush for hours at a time, Zavion was the one who controlled everything else.

Or he used to.

”Its the right thing to do, Papa. So Im going to do it,” he said.

”You will not go back into New Orleans,” said Papa slowly.

”But-”

”Do. You. Understand. Me?” Papa spoke even more slowly.

Zavion willed his eyes to stop blinking. He widened them and kept them still even as they dried and he had to fight the urge to blink.

”Why?” He spoke the one word as slowly as he could.

”Because-” Papa looked down then. He closed his eyes. He put down his paintbrush and flexed his fingers and closed them into a fist. He opened his eyes again and opened his fist and shook his hand back and forth. ”Because,” he finally said again, ”I dont want you...I cant have you...back in that...drowned...monster of a city...” He gripped his hands together, interlocking his fingers, and leaned forward. ”That...place...isnt...safe-”

Zavion knew about safe. He had made it his job to keep Papa and his own self safe for all these years.

He bent his head down to the floor and finally blinked his eyes. They were wet, but he wasnt crying. He had messed up something huge during the hurricane. He rolled the marble from one finger to another in his pocket. It sounded kind of silly, but he believed he had a touch of magic, now that he had found this marble.

He would find some money.

He would find a way to get to New Orleans.

He would find Luna Market.

chapter 26.

HENRY.

”This bird has a pouch like a kangaroo.”

”What is a pelican?”

”This is the largest raptor in the world.”

”What is the Andean condor?”

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