I Survived Hurricane Katrina, 2005 Read online

  “Barry!” Dad yelled. “Climb up.”

  Barry stood on the trunk. Dad lifted him by the arms, and Mom grabbed his legs, pushing him up slowly.

  Barry gasped when he stuck his head into the storm. The wind was so strong he couldn’t keep his eyes open. The rain came down hard and fast, stinging his face like a million bees. Dad held on to Barry, then helped him lie down on his stomach. The wind pushed against Barry’s back, gluing him to the roof.

  “Stay there!” Dad shouted.

  Cleo came up next. Dad laid her down next to Barry. Barry put his arm around her and held on. Soon Barry and Cleo were sandwiched tightly between Mom and Dad.

  They lay bundled together like that, not talking. Mom had her arm over Barry’s head. Dad’s hand rested on his back. Cleo was pushed so close against Barry he could feel her heart beating. He smelled Mom’s lemony soap.

  Barry kept his eyes closed. But just as he started to feel a tiny bit calmer, there was a loud thud at the end of the roof.

  Something had blown through the air and smacked against the house.

  Cleo sprang up, struggling to her feet, breaking free from Mom’s and Dad’s hold.

  “Akivo?” she called.

  The wind knocked her forward. Mom screamed.

  Barry’s hand shot out and grabbed Cleo by the back of her shirt. Dad got a grip on her arm. They pulled her back into their huddle.

  Barry’s heart hammered.

  They got Cleo to lie flat again. But before Barry could rejoin their huddle, a gust of wind swirled around him and hit him in the chest. He tumbled onto his side.

  “Barry!” Dad called, holding out his hand.

  Barry reached out, expecting to feel Dad’s grip.

  But he slipped back, and his hand sliced through empty air. He slid down.

  Down.

  Down.

  Down.

  The last thing he saw before he fell into the water was the terrified look on Dad’s face.

  CHAPTER 10

  The water seemed to reach up and snatch Barry out of the air. And then he was swept away in a gushing tide. Barry struggled to keep his face above the waves, to keep water from rushing into his nose and mouth. His leg smacked into a piece of wood, but that barely slowed him down. His arm scraped against something sharp. His hand hit something big and furry — a rat? — as the water twisted and turned him and dragged him along.

  And then, finally — crash — he hit something that stopped him cold.

  It was a tree. Almost without thinking, Barry threw his arms around the trunk. The water pulled him, trying to suck him back into the flood. But he held on. He wrapped one leg around the tree, then the other. He hugged that tree so tightly he could barely breathe.

  He gathered his strength and then he managed to shinny up the trunk inch by inch. It was an oak tree. All of the branches had been ripped away but one, which rose out of the water. Barry pulled himself up onto it and sat in the V where the branch met the trunk. He hugged the trunk again, bracing himself against the wind.

  He couldn’t see much in the gray light and the stinging rain. And what he saw hardly seemed real: water in every direction. He felt like he was shipwrecked in the middle of the ocean.

  The water was filled with branches and wooden boards and other wreckage from the storm. Barry thought of Atlantis, a city lost under the ocean. He’d read about it in one of his favorite comic books.

  Was that what would become of New Orleans?

  Barry pressed his cheek against the tree. His entire body ached. His hands were ragged from climbing the tree. He started to cry, his sounds drowned out by the wind.

  “Dad!” Barry screamed. “Mom! Cleo!”

  He screamed their names until his throat burned.

  The wind screamed back at him.

  And then he heard a deep groan and a crack that echoed above the wind.

  A massive shadow loomed over him.

  Barry stared in shock: It was a house, pushing through the water like a monster. The windows and doors were gone, and as the house turned slowly in the water, Barry saw that one side had been ripped away.

  He had to get out of the way. Now!

  Barry jumped into the water, barely missing a big piece of glass. The house hit the tree with a smash and a groan and then got stuck there. The current started to drag Barry. He fought against it and somehow managed to swim to the house. He reached up and grabbed hold of a window frame, careful of the jagged glass around the edge.

  A piece of wood fell into the water right next to Barry.

  Its bright color glowed in the ghostly light: sky blue.

  Barry stared at the house.

  Could it be?

  Yes. It was Abe’s house. Abe Mackay’s.

  And that wasn’t all.

  The sound of ferocious barking rang out.

  Somewhere in that ripped-apart house was Cruz.

  The killer dog.

  CHAPTER 11

  Barry’s heart pounded.

  That dog was crazy. What if he came after Barry?

  Cruz barked some more.

  Barry had to get out of here!

  But then there was a noise — a whimpering howl. It rose above the wind, and it was the saddest sound Barry had ever heard. Sadder than Cleo’s sobbing. Sadder than the song Dad had played at Gramps’s funeral. Sadder than Barry’s own sobs.

  That didn’t sound like a killer dog.

  It sounded like a dog that was terrified.

  Cruz howled again.

  Begging. Pleading.

  Help me, please, he seemed to be saying. Help me, please.

  Barry knew what he had to do.

  He hoisted himself up, climbed through the window, and eased himself down on the other side. It was very dark, but Barry could see shadowy shapes around him: a couch floating in the corner, a smashed lamp, and a big cabinet lying facedown in the water.

  Cruz barked brightly, like he could tell help was on the way.

  “Cruz!” Barry shouted.

  The dog barked again.

  “I’m coming!” Barry called.

  Barry waded carefully. His shoes were still floating around in his living room at home; his socks had been ripped off in his ride through the flood. Already his feet were sliced up, and he knew there had to be glass and nails everywhere.

  Cruz was whimpering loudly now.

  “Don’t worry!” Barry called.

  Cruz barked like he understood.

  Barry made it to the stairway, which rose out of the water. The house was tilted to the side and rocked gently in the waves. Barry had to hold on tightly to the banister.

  Cruz was waiting for him in the doorway of Abe’s room. His leash was attached to Abe’s bed, which Cruz had managed to drag across the room. He was straining so hard to get free that he was practically strangling himself.

  Barry paused for a second, thinking of all the scary stories Abe had told him about Cruz. But then he closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He walked up, reached for Cruz’s collar, and unhooked it from the leash.

  Cruz leaped up, and for a split second Barry thought he’d made a terrible mistake.

  But then Cruz licked Barry’s chin. He licked Barry’s hands and pushed his head against Barry’s leg. Then he sat down and looked up into Barry’s eyes. He gave four little barks.

  Thank you! he seemed to cheer. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

  Barry bent down next to Cruz and patted him on the head.

  “You’re welcome,” he said.

  Cruz gave Barry one last kiss on the nose and then looked at him expectantly.

  What now? he seemed to ask. What should we do?

  And that was when it hit Barry: He wasn’t alone anymore. He and Cruz were together.

  CHAPTER 12

  The back wall of Abe’s room was gone. But there was a spot near the top of the stairs where they could escape from the wind and rain. Barry and Cruz sat there for a few minutes, until Cruz started to whimper.

  “What
’s wrong?” Barry asked.

  The dog was panting.

  “You thirsty? You need water?”

  Cruz’s tail thumped.

  Barry knew that none of the sinks would work. But maybe there were bottles of water somewhere in the kitchen.

  Barry and Cruz made their way down the slanting staircase.

  “You stay here,” Barry said to Cruz, pointing to the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t want Cruz wading through the dirty water.

  But Cruz wouldn’t stay. He seemed to be glued to Barry’s leg.

  They waded into the small kitchen. Dishes were floating around their feet, along with boxes and cans of food, but nothing to drink.

  Barry yanked open the fridge, and a thrill went through him when he saw two six-packs of Coke, some cheese, hot dogs, bread, and a large bottle of water.

  “We’re in luck,” he said to Cruz.

  He looked around for something to carry the food in. He saw a plastic bag floating in the corner and bent down to reach for it. But before he could grab it, Cruz let out a ferocious bark and rammed his body against Barry, almost knocking him down.

  A long, dark shape shot out from under the bag and disappeared into the murky water.

  A snake!

  Barry stood still, frozen in fear.

  Was that a water moccasin?

  He remembered Gramps’s most terrifying Betsy story, about one of his friends who’d been bitten by a water moccasin while making his way through the flooded streets.

  “The water was filled with poisonous snakes,” Gramps had said. “Lots of people got bit.”

  Now Barry shuddered.

  He grabbed as much food and soda and water as he could carry. He hurried back upstairs, praying that snakes couldn’t climb.

  There was a metal bowl in Abe’s room, and Barry filled it to the top. Cruz emptied it, and Barry filled it up again. Barry drank two cans of Coke. He ripped open the package of hot dogs; Cruz ate four, one after another. Barry made himself a cheese sandwich and gave Cruz the crusts.

  When they were finished, they settled back against the wall. Cruz lay down on top of Barry’s legs. He looked up at Barry with a thank you kind of look on his face.

  Barry stroked his head.

  “You’re really not a killer dog, are you?” Barry said.

  Cruz looked at him and panted a little. Nah. That dog was probably from the shelter in downtown New Orleans. Abe couldn’t afford a fancy Chinese army dog even if he’d wanted one. He had made up that killer-dog routine. Another trick to scare the bejesus out of Barry and Jay.

  “The storm will be over soon,” Barry said to Cruz.

  The wind seemed to be dying down a bit. Cruz was still looking up at him. Barry saw the fear and confusion in his eyes.

  What could Barry do?

  And then it came to him.

  “I found my thrill,” Barry sang quietly, “on Blueberry Hill …”

  Cruz licked Barry’s chin. He liked it.

  So Barry kept singing — “The moon stood still … on Blueberry Hill” — until Cruz put his head on Barry’s knee and closed his eyes.

  Soon Barry’s eyelids started to sag. He stopped singing and leaned back to take a rest, lulled by the gentle rocking of the house and by the song — familiar now — of Katrina’s winds and rain.

  CHAPTER 13

  Cruz was barking. Barking like crazy.

  Barry shook himself awake.

  Cruz was standing at the edge of the room, where the side of the house had been ripped away. But he was looking back at Barry as he barked.

  Come! he seemed to be saying. Come here and look!

  Something thundered in the sky. The house was shuddering and rocking.

  What was happening?

  Was it a tornado? An earthquake?

  No! It was a helicopter!

  It hovered low in the sky, its winds churning the floodwater.

  Barry could see the pilot, a young man, through the windshield. He seemed to be looking right at Barry.

  “Cruz!” Barry exclaimed. “We’re being rescued!”

  Barry waved at the pilot. “Here!” he said. “Here! We’re here!”

  It’s over! Barry thought. They’d made it! Soon they’d be out of the flood! He’d be back with Mom and Dad and Cleo!

  Barry waved his arms.

  The helicopter hovered for a minute longer. But then it suddenly rose and flew away. Was it circling? Was it going to come around the other side?

  Barry waited. And waited. But the helicopter’s sound grew fainter, and then it faded away completely.

  “No!” Barry shouted. “Come back!”

  Cruz looked at him, confused.

  Barry felt like crying. But he wanted to be strong. For Cruz.

  “I’m sorry,” Barry said as calmly as he could. “I thought they were coming for us.”

  The helicopter’s winds had stirred up the water, and now the house was rocking so violently that Barry was knocked onto his knees. Cruz yelped. Before Barry could pick himself up, he heard a loud splash.

  Cruz had fallen into the water!

  Barry dove toward the open side of the house and peered over the edge.

  He searched for Cruz, but all he could see was a mess of wood planks and branches. Something poked up in the middle of the debris but then disappeared. It was Cruz! He was tangled up in the mess and struggling to keep his head above the water.

  Barry fought the urge to jump right in. It was a ten-foot drop at least. And he had to be careful not to hit anything sharp floating in the water.

  “I’m coming, Cruz!” Barry yelled as he eased himself over the side of the house, holding tightly with his hands while letting his legs drop.

  He dangled there for a minute, grasping the edge, staring down into the water, until he spotted a big board floating underneath. Just as it passed, Barry let go. He hit the waves but grabbed hold of the wood before his head went under. He pulled his body onto the board and kicked over to Cruz. The dog was trapped between two branches.

  Barry pulled away the biggest branch and grabbed Cruz by the collar.

  “I have you,” he said, pulling the dog close, hooking his arm around Cruz’s body.

  Cruz licked him on the cheek and pushed his nose into Barry’s ear like he wanted to whisper a secret.

  “I know,” Barry said. “That was scary. But we’re okay. We’re okay.” But they weren’t okay.

  The water was burning Barry’s skin. The fumes stung his eyes. Cruz had to be suffering too. They couldn’t go back to Abe’s broken house. Barry wouldn’t be able to lift Cruz through the window. And they couldn’t just float like this either.

  In the distance, Barry saw the rooftop of a house poking through the water. It was too far to swim to through the poisonous flood. And then he saw a car floating toward them. It was upside down, like a turtle flipped onto its back. Maybe he and Cruz could ride the car to the roof of that house.

  Barry kicked as hard as he could, holding Cruz with one hand and the board with the other. They made it to the car and scrambled up onto it. Barry held on to one of the tires, and Cruz stayed close to him. Slowly, the car moved toward the house, almost as though they were driving it. When they were a few feet away, Barry stood up, balancing himself, ready to jump.

  “Come on!” he said to Cruz.

  And they both leaped off the car and onto the roof.

  Cruz slipped, but this time Barry grabbed him before he fell. They staggered up to a small dry patch near the top of the roof.

  Barry sat down, pulling Cruz onto his lap.

  He suddenly felt more tired than he’d ever felt in his life. He rested his chin on Cruz’s head. Barry could hear dogs barking and howling all around them. He remembered the news report that had said no one could bring pets to the Superdome. There must be hundreds of dogs and cats on their own. Thousands.

  And people too. In the distance Barry could hear voices calling for help. He and Cruz weren’t the only ones out here.

  T
he light drained from the sky and the sun went down. Barry and Cruz sat slumped together. Neither of them moved. Barry was thirsty but there was no water to drink. Mosquitoes swarmed around them, too many to swat away.

  There was nothing to do.

  And there was nowhere to go.

  CHAPTER 14

  The stars came out, more stars than Barry had ever imagined.

  Was one of them Beta Draconis, Akivo’s secret star?

  Beta Draconis was a real star. Barry and Jay had found the name in an astronomy book in the library. They’d learned that there were trillions and trillions of stars in the universe, more stars than grains of sand on every beach and desert on earth. They all seemed to be out that night.

  Barry searched the sky and picked out one of the very brightest stars.

  “See that, Cruz?” he whispered, pointing into the sky. “That’s Akivo’s star.”

  That probably wasn’t true. But right then, Barry decided to believe it.

  Cruz looked at the sky, and his brown eyes filled up with light. He and Barry leaned their heads together. And soon the sky seemed to wrap itself around them, a glittering blanket to protect them from the awful sights and sounds and smells of their ruined neighborhood.

  They sat like that for hours on their little dry patch of roof. A few small boats motored by. Barry called out, but nobody seemed to hear him.

  Until, finally, one of the boats slowed down.

  It wasn’t really a boat. It was more like a raft. A yellow rubber raft with a motor.

  The driver was a woman, younger than Mom. She drove the boat right onto the roof and stopped it just a few feet from Barry and Cruz.

  “Well, look at you, brave soul,” the woman said, her voice low and smooth.

  She had very dark skin and huge eyes and dozens of long, skinny braids that seemed to dance around her face. Barry stared at her, sure he was imagining things. She seemed like some kind of fairy — a beautiful fairy in a yellow rubber boat — from one of Cleo’s bedtime stories.

  But she was real, stepping out of her boat and wading up to Barry in tall rubber boots.