Renée Watson - A Place Where Hurricanes Happen

Text copyright 2010 by Rene Watson
Illustrations copyright 2010 by Shadra Strickland
All rights reserved.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Watson, Rene.
A place where hurricanes happen / by Rene Watson ; illustrated by Shadra Strickland. 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Told in alternating voices, four friends from the same New Orleans neighborhood describe what happens to them and their community when they are separated, then reunited, as a result of Hurricane Katrina.
ISBN 978-0-375-85609-9 (trade)
eISBN: 978-0-375-98307-8
1. Hurricane Katrina, 2005Juvenile fiction. [1. Hurricane Katrina, 2005Fiction. 2. NeighborhoodFiction. 3. Community lifeLouisianaNew OrleansFiction. 4. New Orleans (La.)Fiction.] I. Strickland, Shadra, ill. II. Title.
PZ7.W32868Pl 2010
[E]dc22 2009017826
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v3.1

For Mia Kristin Smith and the children and staff of the 2006 Gretna Community Arts Camp, and for children everywhere who have survived their own personal storms R.W.

For New Orleans S.S.

W ere from New Orleans,
a place where hurricanes happen.
But thats only the bad side.

Playing outside is my favorite thing to do.
I play with my friends
Keesha, Michael and Tommy,
who live down the block.
Our favorite game is hide-and-go-seek.
No one can ever find me.
I hide in the best places.
Keesha is easy to find.
She hides behind the same tree every time
the one in front of Michaels house.
Always giggling to herself
cause she thinks shes tricked us.

We play together all day.
Me, Keesha, Michael and Tommy.
Until we are called to come inside.
Eat dinner. Take a bath.
And I cant wait till tomorrow,
when I can come outside and play again.

Jasmine is my little sister.
She is six. I am eight.
I get to do more things than her
because I am the oldest.

I am the one who makes sure Jasmine doesnt get hurt
when we go outside to play.

I am the one who can walk down the block all by myself.

I am the one who picks Jasmine up from her babysitters house.
As I walk down the street, I see my neighbors on their porches.
My ears are full of gospel, hip-hop and jazz
blasting from car stereos.
Everybody says hello on my block
and I say hello back, even if I dont know their names.

When I get to Mrs. Johnsons house,
she has a cold glass of sweet tea waiting for me.
We sit on Mrs. Johnsons porch, drinking our tea
and adding to the puzzle shes working on.
When its time to go, I take Jasmines hand
and hold it the whole way home
because that is what big brothers do.

Mommas cooking dinner,
making my favorite foods:
jambalaya with corn bread.
And I get to help.
I sprinkle spices in the pot
and they dance and twirl
in Mommas thick sauce
as she stirs all the ingredients
with her wooden spoon.
Momma says soon itll be time to eat.
And I cant wait cause I know
its going to taste so good.

I do not like sharin a room with my older brother.
His clothes take up all the space in the closet.
He gets three of the dresser drawers
and I only get one.
His posters cover most of the wall.

And he gets the bottom bunk.
But worst of all, he snores.
Tonight I was dreamin about havin my own room.
But now Im wide awake.

I have sixteen teddy bears.
My mommas been collecting them
since the day I was born.
My black bear is the biggest of them all.
His marble eyes watch over me at night.
My pink teddy bear listens to all of my secrets.
And I always choose one to sleep with.
My older brother and sister say Im too old
to sleep with teddy bears.
But my momma says its okay
and she buys me another one.
Now I have seventeen.