to last a lifetime."
Monica made a face.
"Hmmm…," Biggie said.
"If I had more time, I could make you understand." Grace's face hardened. "But I'm sure you need to be on your way."
"Yes, we do…"
Just then Rob Parish power-walked by. Monica nudged me. He stopped briefly in front of Grace, walking in place. "I see you're still playing Simon Legree."
Grace ignored him and he marched on, elbows flapping at his sides.
11
Well," Biggie said, after we had driven about a mile toward town, "it must not have been much of a storm, only a few limbs blown down."
"Shoot, I've seen lots worse." Monica was bouncing around like a monkey trying to see out all the windows at once. "Last year a storm blew the roof off Elvis Moton's barn. It landed in a chinaberry tree a half mile away."
"Would you sit still!"
Monica didn't hear me. She was leaning across the front seat between Biggie and Rosebud. "I bet you've seen lots of storms down in south Louisiana, Rosebud."
"Hurricanes, mostly," Rosebud said. "I recollect the time Audrey come through Cameron Parish. Now that was a doozy. Dern near wiped out the town of Cameron. My Uncle Buddy… Godamighty, look at that!" He drove the car onto the shoulder of the road and stopped.
For once, Monica couldn't think of a thing to say, just stared open mouthed at a fifty-foot-wide tunnel through the forest swept clean by the storm. It went as far as we could see into the trees on both sides of the road. Limbs and whole tree trunks lay in piles beside the road left there by the cleanup crews. Power lines had come loose from their poles and dragged on the ground. It looked like a giant bulldozer had come through and cut away everything in its path. Tall pines were snapped in two like toothpicks and leaned this way and that, while the oaks and gum trees were stripped bare.
"I'm getting out," Monica said, going for the door. "I see a dead cow."
"Don't you move!" Rosebud barked at her.
"Huh?"
"You ain't going anywhere with those wires down. You crazy, girl?"
"Oh… I didn't think." For the first time in her life, Monica actually seemed embarrassed.
"Rosebud, get home quickly." Biggie pointed. "That storm path leads right straight toward Job's Crossing."
The car coughed and hesitated as Rosebud gave it the gas. I doubt if that old funeral car had ever been driven as fast as we drove getting back home.
When we came to the outskirts of town, we saw the storm's path again. It had wiped out the Fresh-As-a-Daisy café. The big sign for the Big Eight Motel lay across the parking lot, and our only convenience store, the Wag 'n' Bag, was nothing but a pile of rubble.
"Well, it looks like it missed the main part of town," Biggie said, with a sigh. "I can't wait to get back home."
As Rosebud pulled the car into the driveway, I could see Willie Mae sitting on the front porch watching for us. She got up and came down the front steps. "I knew y'all was all right," she said. But I could see a tear creeping out of the corner of her eye as she grabbed me in a big hug. "Come on in the kitchen. I got cookies and coffee already set out."
"Willie Mae, how did you know when we'd be here?"
I might as well have saved my breath. Willie Mae is a voodoo lady, and she never gives away her secrets.
"I want to go to my house," Monica said, in a little bitty voice.
Biggie put her arm around her. "Honey, I know you do. Rosebud will take you in a little while. In fact, we'll all go."
Inside the front hall, I took a deep breath, drinking in the smells of Biggie's house, furniture polish and talcum powder and, best of all, chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven. We followed Biggie into the kitchen where we sat around the table eating cookies and telling Willie Mae everything that had happened.
"And now I've got a new granddaddy," I said.
Just then, my dog, Bingo, came skidding into the room chasing Booger, who jumped up on the counter and sat licking himself. Willie Mae swatted him with a towel.
"Hey," Monica said. "I thought you were keeping Prissy Moody."
I put down my milk glass. "I forgot! Willie Mae, have you seen her?"
Willie Mae shook her head.
"I've got an idea," Monica said. "Willie Mae, why don't you do a voodoo spell to bring her back?"
"Yeah!" I've seen Willie