The Big Apple Posse

by Wendy R. Williams

Amanda was stunned. First they had to run and now they were in a car with gun-toting guys who just stomped on their phones, but who also did not want them to spill potato chips and there was nothing they could do about any of it. So Peter and Amanda just sat quietly in the car, eating their sandwiches and listening to the hip-hop music coming from the Sirius station.

  “Hey, that’s me,” said Terrence/DJ True. “You kids really don’t recognize me, do you?”

  “Sorry, no,” said Amanda.

  “I have a TV show five days a week at 6 p.m..” said DJ True/Terrence.

  “I’ll look for your show the next time I have a TV,” said Amanda.

  “You do that,” said Terrence/DJ True.

  Chapter II

  Nelson drove the car onto the Westside Highway and headed north. Amanda looked out the tinted windows at the snowflakes fluttering down on the Hudson River and wondered yet again how her life could have changed so quickly. She did one thing, one thing only—she came into New York City with her brother Peter to see her cousin Cindy perform as Annie (which she really did not want to do—Cindy is obnoxious), and since then nothing had been the same. While they were in the basement of the theater waiting for their mom’s to pick them up after the show, some crooks had blown up several buildings in the city, including the theater where they were waiting, plus the crooks had set off powder bombs in a lot of public buildings so everyone would think the city was contaminated with anthrax. They had to escape from the theater and then try to escape from the city. While they were trying to leave the city, they had found out that there were no “real” terrorists, just a bunch of thieves who set off the bombs so everyone would evacuate, and they could steal all the diamonds in New York City and corner the diamond market. They had found all of this out with the help of their cousin Cindy (who was now hiding in China with her mother and grandmother); a nice older couple, Mr. Garvain and his sister Miss Virginia, (who were now hiding in Vermont); and her new friend Thibodeaux Botrain and his Aunt Tina (who were very stubborn and insisted on remaining in the city). Auntie Tina was the one who gave them the card for her lawyer, Mr. Trudeau. Auntie Tina and Thibodeaux had stayed with Amanda, Peter, and their mother, Melanie Wolinski, in Greenwich, Connecticut after they escaped the city until it was safe for them to return to their home in Harlem. Afterwards, the FBI had arranged for Peter and Amanda to hide in New Jersey with Mrs. Thompson, but Amanda remembered Auntie Tina saying that if anything happened and the bad guys found them, they should call Mr. Trudeau, not the FBI or the police. Auntie Tina was not a big fan of the authorities and after what had happened today, Amanda could see why. If the FBI was really watching them, how did one of the tall, blond men find them?

  The car pulled off the FDR at 125th Street and traveled East to Martin Luther King Blvd. where they made a left. Amanda noticed that the driver and the guard in the front seat were carefully watching their rear view mirrors. The driver made a sudden left turn, drove halfway down a block with very few cars and then he stopped to look to see if anyone else had stopped. What he saw must have reassured him because soon they were moving again. He drove for several more blocks, driving around blocks and stopping to look and then he pulled onto a snow covered street filled with beautiful townhouses.

  “Where are we?” asked Peter.

  “This is Striver’s Row. My dad, Mr. Trudeau lives here. You kids stay in the car while we check out the street,” said Terrence/DJ True as he stepped out of the car with the two guards and looked around. Michael walked to the door and rang the door bell. The door was answered by an elegant black man who appeared to be in his sixties. The man was dressed in a gray suit and he had a dark red silk ascot tied around his neck.

  The two bodyguards opened the door to the backseat of the car, pulled Amanda and Peter out of the car and quickly walked them through the snow and into the house.

  “Welcome. I am Benedicte Trudeau, Tina de Bruni’s lawyer. I’m sorry we are meeting under such scary circumstances,” said the nice looking man.

  “Hi, I’m Amanda and this is my brother, Peter,” said Amanda.

  “It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” said Mr. Trudeau. “Mrs. de Bruni and Thibodeaux should be here any moment, but in the meantime, let me get you something to eat and drink,” said Mr. Trudeau. “How about you Terrence, would Michael and Nelson want something to eat or drink?”

  “No thanks, Dad. I have to get back to the studio because the producer is just sitting there with his time clock a ticking. But I can spare Michael. He’s armed,” said Terrence/DJ True.

  “Good. I’ll call you on your cell when we are ready to go. But it will be tomorrow before we can leave so Michael, you need to spend the night here,” said Mr. Trudeau.

  “Leave?” asked Amanda.

  “Yes, we have to get you out of the city, and hide you,” said Mr. Trudeau.

  “But where are we going?” Asked Peter.

  “I’m working that out right now. Michael, would you take these kids into the kitchen and find them some food and then you can all watch television upstairs in the TV room. Don’t answer the door. I ‘ll answer it if someone comes. I am going into my study,” Mr. Trudeau started to climb up an intricately carved wooden stairway to the second floor.

  “Shouldn’t we call the FBI?” asked Peter.

  “Why? They were supposed to be protecting you and yet here you are in my living room after traveling in from New Jersey all by yourselves,” said Mr. Trudeau. “They must have some kind of leak.”

  “But what if Amanda just got scared? What if that man really was not one of the bad guys? Amanda only saw him for a minute,” said Peter.

  “Oh, he was a bad guy, all right. It’s all over the evening news. He attacked two guards at your school and one of them is in the hospital,” said Mr. Trudeau as he continued to climb up the stairs.

  Terrence/DJ True and Nelson walked to the door and stopped, “Hey, Michael, we’ll be back tomorrow morning. You have enough clips?”

  “Yeah, I’m not prepared for a gang war but I have enough to stop them if they try to come in the door,” said Michael.

  “That’s nice,” said Amanda in a weak voice. She felt lousy. She really liked the guards at her school. They were two nice older men, both retired policemen who enjoyed being around kids. Now one of them was in the hospital and she had just told the nice lady that she met on the train that she needed to disappear. Being a witness in a terror trial was as contagious as that Black Plague she studied in school.

  Terrence/DJ True and Nelson left. Michael walked over to the door and turned the two dead bolt locks. He checked the drapes at the front window to be sure that no one could see inside. “Come on kids. Let’s get something to eat. You know, I don’t think I’ve babysat since I was about thirteen,” said Michael.

  “Well, I’m thirteen and I don’t need a babysitter,” said Amanda.

  Michael looked at Amanda for a moment. “So you don’t. But you do need a bodyguard,” said Michael.

  “I guess we do,” said Amanda.

  “Hey, thanks for helping us,” said Peter.

  “You got it. Let’s see what my Dad has in his kitchen,” said Michael.

  Michael, Amanda, and Peter walked through an elegant formal dining room into Mr. Trudeau’s kitchen which looked like something from one of their Mom’s copies of Architectural Digest. There were dark mahogany cabinets and white marble counter tops and islands. Michael opened the Sub-Zero refrigerator and took out jars of peanut butter and jelly and a loaf of bread. “I guess this is it, unless one of you knows how to cook,” he said.

  “No, my mom was going to teach me to cook this year; we were going to take lessons at Williams Sonoma, but our lives got a little messed up,” said Amanda.

  “So peanut butter and jelly it is,” said Michael.

  Michael put the bread and jelly on the countertop and started to make three sandwiches.

  “Since you are the bodyguard, why don’t you bodyguard and we will make the sandwiches. Here, Pet
er, you can put the peanut butter on the bread,” said Amanda.

  Amanda and Peter started to make the sandwiches while Michael opened one of the glass cabinets and took out three glasses which he filled with milk.

  They were starting to eat their second sandwich of the night when they heard someone knocking at the door.

  “You two stay here,” said Michael as he pulled out his gun and walked into the living room.

  “He makes peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and he just pulled out a gun!” said Peter.

  “Right,” said Amanda.

  Amanda and Peter peeked through the kitchen door into the living room. Mr. Trudeau had come downstairs and was standing at the door looking through the peep hole. Mr. Trudeau liked what he saw because he quickly opened the door and in walked Thibodeaux and his Auntie Tina. Amanda and Peter ran into the living room, and Amanda hugged both of them. “I am so glad to see you. I was so worried when you did not go into hiding.”

  “Well, when Tina de Bruni can’t safely live in Harlem, it’s the End of Days,” said Auntie Tina in a grumpy voice.

  Peter looked at both Thibodeaux and Auntie Tina and just said, “Hi.”

  Auntie Tina looked a lot better than she had the last time they saw her. Then she had been recovering from knee surgery and had to use a walker. But being in a walker sure had not stopped her from being able to overcome two bad guys. Well, she had overcome two bad guys with the help of two other people in their sixties, Mr. Garvain and Miss Virginia, and with the help of some chickens. Amanda still did not know how she had used the chickens. Auntie Tina was dressed like she had just returned from the theater or an elegant party. She was wearing a burgundy wool suit covered by a fur coat and topped off by a burgundy felt hat with a black feather. She had a huge diamond brooch on the lapel of her suit and diamond rings all over her hands. She was dressed just like Joan Crawford in one of those old movies Amanda’s mom used to make her watch.

  Amanda did not approve of anyone wearing fur, but she knew better than to mention that to Auntie Tina because if she did bring it up, Auntie Tina might decide to wear Amanda as a coat instead. So Amanda said, “You look beautiful, Auntie Tina. Did you go somewhere special today?”

  “Just the grocery store and the bank,” said Auntie Tina.

  “Oh,” said Amanda.

  When Amanda had first met Auntie Tina, she had been scared to death of her, plus Thibodeaux had told both her and her cousin Cindy (who was also hiding at Auntie Tina’s apartment at the time) that Auntie Tina favored boys. But when Auntie Tina had stayed with Amanda at her home in Greenwich, Connecticut after the bomb blasts, Amanda had realized that she just acted gruff and actually had a kind heart.

  Amanda looked over at Peter and Thibodeaux who were doing some complicated high-fiving in the corner of the living room.

  “Hey, Mr. Trudeau, is this one of your sons?” asked Thibodeaux, pointing to Michael.

  “Yes. Michael is my youngest, but tonight, he’s our bodyguard,” said Mr. Trudeau.

  “Bodyguard? Yeah, bodyguard. Hey man, I’m Thibodeaux,” he said to Michael.

  “Michael, would you please take these two young gentlemen and the young lady into the kitchen while I talk to my friend, Mrs. De Bruni,” said Mr. Trudeau.

  Amanda, Peter, and Thibodeaux all walked into the kitchen with Michael. Amanda and Peter were really happy to see Thibodeaux. He had been a member of The Big Apple Posse when they figured out what actually happened to New York City. And because of the evidence they collected and the two duct-taped crooks they handed over to the FBI, people were able to return to New York City in a week instead of the months it would have taken Homeland Security to check for unexploded bombs and more anthrax. Peter had found a flash drive that two of the terrorists had left in a bar in Grand Central Station. The flash drive had the location of all the bombs, the real anthrax, and the buildings that were coated in fake anthrax. He had downloaded the drive to his computer and emailed it to the FBI even before they escaped from the city.

  “Hey, I’m taller. I grew an inch,” said Thibodeaux to Amanda.

  “So did I, so you still have more growing to do before you catch up,” said Amanda who was now five foot seven. Amanda looked at Thibodeaux and he still looked about three inches shorter than her.

  “I’m still working on it. You can be my girlfriend and be taller than me,” said Thibodeaux.

  “You just keep working on the growing tall business,” said Amanda.

  “So,” said Michael. “You got your eye on this little blond gal.”

  “Yeah, we are going to be an ‘it couple’ three years from now when we hit sixteen, even if she is still taller,” said Thibodeaux. “She’ll get over her “heightism” and all the tabloids will follow us what with my rapping and my clothing line.”

  Amanda rolled her eyes.

  “Got it,” said Michael.

  Amanda looked at Michael. He might be laughing at them, but she could not be sure.

  “Hey, do you want some peanut butter and jelly?” Amanda asked Thibodeaux. “We were just about to eat when you came to the door,” said Amanda.

  “Sure,” said Thibodeaux.

  “Well, there’s the knife,” said Amanda. “Oh, okay, I will make you a sandwich.”

  “You don’t have to do that just because you’re a girl,” said Thibodeaux.

  “I know that. I am doing it because you are my friend and I have not seen you in a long time,” said Amanda.

  “If you two are through deciding who is going to spread the peanut butter, why don’t you tell me why we are here,” said Michael.

  “I guess Mr. Trudeau trusts you or he would not have left you with us,” said Amanda.

  “He better, I’m his son,” said Michael.

  “We are the witnesses in the terror trial. We saw some of the bad guys who blew up the city five months ago and we also found evidence. So we are going to testify at their trial in June. But those guys really don’t want us to testify and one of them found Peter and me today. He came to our school so we had to run,” said Amanda.

  “Wow, you kids are the witnesses. I heard there were witnesses, but not who they were,” said Michael

  “The FBI has kept our identity secret from the press, but the lawyers for the bad guys know who we are because the government had to tell them, so we all hid except Thibodeaux and Auntie Tina who were just too stubborn to leave the city,” said Amanda.

  “Hey, I have been hiding. We moved into another one of Auntie Tina’s buildings, one she owned under a corporate name, and I have been home schooled ever since. I have a tutor, cuz Auntie Tina sure isn’t going to home school me. That woman is busy,” said Thibodeaux. “But where were you?” asked Thibodeaux of Amanda and Peter. “I really wanted to talk to you and no one would tell me where you were.”

  “We were living in Saddle River, New Jersey with the Thompsons. Mrs. Thompson used to be an FBI agent and she agreed to hide us. She was really great and we were attending a good school. But we sure did miss our parents, especially Mom. I have not spoken to my mother in three months. The U.S. Marshals can take her somewhere she can call us and no one can trace it, but the FBI keeps saying they don’t have the budget to hire marshals or arrange for phone calls and we can see our mom again after the trial,” said Amanda.

  “Wow. That’s quite some story,” said Michael. “I wonder if the FBI didn’t have enough money to keep your location locked up somewhere, because it sure is suspicious that the bad guys found you when you were staying with a former FBI agent.”

  “You’re right about that,” said Peter.

  Amanda, Peter, Thibodeaux, and Michael carried their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches up the back stairway to the TV room.

  “DJ True says he has a television show,” said Amanda.

  “Yup, everyday at 6P. M.,” said Michael.

  “Hey, you know DJ True?” asked Thibodeaux.

  “He was one of the guys who picked us up and brought us here. He’s another on
e of Mr. Trudeau’s sons, his real name is Terrence,” said Amanda.

  “Wow, I really want to meet him,” said Thibodeaux.

  “Well, you will meet him tomorrow morning. I work for my brother and he is going to come over here to help you leave the city,” said Michael.

  “Do you know where we are going?” asked Amanda.

  “Nope,” said Michael. “Here, let me see if I can find some of DJ True’s music on MTV.”

  “What do you do? Are you just a bodyguard,” Thibodeaux asked Michael.

  “No, I’m an intern at my brother DJ True’s operation. I just graduated from Rutgers and want to learn the music business. But the hip-hop industry is so violent, I had to get a security guard license so I can carry. I had never touched a gun before I started working in the business, but now I’m a pretty good shot,” said Michael.

  “I know how to shoot a gun,” said Amanda.

  “You do?” asked Thibodeaux.

  “Yes, my grandfather, you know the one that has the ranch in West Texas and taught me how to drive, well he taught me how to shoot too. I used to go with him when he was hunting for rattlesnakes,” said Amanda. “Peter would go with us too, but he doesn’t like guns.”

  Michael turned to Peter and said, “Well, I don’t like guns either.”

  “And I don’t like rattlesnakes,” said Peter.

  Thibodeaux looked at Amanda, “Did you shoot a rattlesnake?”

  “Yup,” answered Amanda.

  “Oh,” said Thibodeaux.

  Everyone sat around watching as Michael surfed through all the music channels, but he still had not found DJ True when Mr. Trudeau came to the door.

  “Michael, would you and the children please come downstairs,” said Mr. Trudeau.

  Mr. Trudeau turned to walk down the stairs with Amanda, Peter, Thibodeaux, and Michael following him. He led them into the kitchen and closed the door. Auntie Tina was sitting on a bar stool at the island talking on a phone.

  “Amanda, your mother wants to talk to you,” said Auntie Tina.

  “Is it safe?” asked Amanda.