Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6 They sped through the Lower Nine and crossed the St. Claude Avenue Bridge. They drove past the bakery where Mom had worked before Cleo was born. She'd learned how to make Barry's favorite caramel cake there. Mom's dream was to open her own bakery. They didn't have the money for that now. But one day, Mom always said. One day. She said those words so often they had become the Tucker family motto. One day Barry's dad would have a deal with a record label.

One day they'd get rid of their dented old Honda and buy a nice new car. Maybe even one day Barry wouldn't be so scared of Abe Mackay and his friends. One day. They drove a few more blocks, and then Dad pulled up in front of Lightning's, the club where he and his band played most Thursday nights. The owner, Dave Rivet, was one of Dad's closest friends. Barry had known him since before he could walk. "Why are we stopping?" Barry asked. "Dad wants to make sure Uncle Dave is leaving," Mom said. Uncle Dave had spotted their car through the window. He came outside and hustled over to them, his big belly shaking. Uncle Dave had a smile that made you feel like he'd been waiting his whole life to see you. Dad stuck his arm out the window. Uncle Dave shook Dad's hand and blew a kiss to Mom. He peered into the backseat. "Hey there, Barry! Hello there, princess!" he boomed, his words stretched out by his thick drawl.

"Grab your bag," Dad said. "We'll make room for you." Uncle Dave peered at the little space between Barry and Cleo and laughed. "You gonna tie me to the roof?" he asked. But Dad's expression was serious. "They're telling everyone to leave," he said. "That means you too." "Someone needs to keep an eye on our city!" Uncle Dave said. "I'm keeping the club open so folks have a place to go." "I don't like it," Dad said. "This place will be fine," Uncle Dave said. "And so will I." Barry could tell that Uncle Dave wasn't changing his mind. Dad grabbed Uncle Dave's hand again. "You take care," Dad said. "And if you change your mind, I'm right here," Uncle Dave said. "I already told some folks, 'Don't go to the Superdome. Just come to Lightning's.' I have my generator and about a million hot dogs." "We'll keep that in mind," Dad said.

Uncle Dave put his hands on Dad's shoulders. "And I better see you this Thursday for the show!" Dad laughed and started up the engine. "Let's hope!" "Isn't it a bad idea for him to stay?" Barry asked once they'd driven away. "This neighborhood doesn't usually get flooded," Dad said. "It's a bit higher than the rest of the city." "And let's face it: If anyone can keep a hurricane away, it's Dave," Mom said. They sped toward Interstate 10, but the closer they got, the heavier the traffic became. Soon their car was standing still. Barry opened his window and stuck his head out. The line of cars and trucks stretched as far as he could see. The hot and sticky air stunk of car exhaust. Dad clicked on the radio and punched the buttons until he found a traffic report. The news was terrible: Cars were backed up for hundreds of miles on roads leading out of the city. "This will take all day," Mom said softly, reaching into the cooler and taking out a

blueberry muffin. Dad patted her leg. Cleo fussed, and Barry tried to distract her with one of his stories. An hour went by, and the car didn't budge. Dad had to turn off the air conditioner so the engine wouldn't overheat. Cleo whined and moaned and finally fell asleep.

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