The Big Apple Posse

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The Big Apple Posse Page 20

by Wendy R. Williams


  Solange walked over to where Michael was sitting and said, “Armand is coming over for dinner. All he knows is that Mama is out of town for a few months and my cousin Amanda and I are staying here so we can be closer to the ballet school,” said Solange.

  “Who is Armand?” asked Michael.

  “He’s my boyfriend. We have been together since first grade,” said Solange.

  “I have not seen Armand since I left New Orleans,” said Thibodeaux.

  “He can’t wait to see you too. I told him you were all grown up and used a walking cane with a sword inside and smoked cigars,” said Solange.

  “I don’t think it is a good idea to have guests,” said Michael. “The fewer people who know about these kids, the safer everyone will be. Does Father Francis know the whole story?”

  “Your father called me and told me about the danger these children are in from those monsters who attacked New York City,” said Father Francis.

  “I can’t tell Armand he cannot see me,” said Solange. “That will cause more talk than my Mama leaving town and me moving over Miss Amelia’s shop. He’ll understand why Amanda is staying with me. Dancers are always moving to town to study with Miss McMartin. That’s all he needs to know.”

  “But what about the rest of us here tonight. Why will he think we are here?” asked Peter.

  “Honey, I have cousins by the dozens and Armand has never been to my house when there wasn’t at least one relative he had never met. We lost a lot of relatives in the flood, some of the ones who lived in the Lower Ninth Ward died, but a lot had to move away to find homes and jobs, so you being here, won’t seem odd at all,” said Solange. “Hey, you boys, set the table so we can eat.”

  Just as she was walking back into the kitchen, someone knocked at the back door. Solange moved to answer it when Michael got up and said, “Stop, let me go with you. And none of you tell anything other than your cover stories to this boy, do you understand?”

  Everyone nodded so Michael and Solange walked back into Solange and Amanda’s bedroom and looked through the peep hole where they saw a good looking black boy who looked to be about seventeen. Solange opened the door.

  “Hey, baby,” said Solange as she threw her arms around Armand’s neck.

  Armand picked Solange up and twirled her around and stopped, paused and looked at Michael, “Who’s this?”

  “Armand, this is Michael. He is a family friend who lives next door. He is keeping an eye on us while my Mama is out of town. He’s in the music business,” said Solange.

  “Hey man, it’s good to meet you,” said Armand, sounding less than enthusiastic.

  “You too,” said Michael, sounding equally as non-pleased.

  Father Francis walked into the kitchen with Solange and started to help her cook. Amanda, taking the hint, walked in too and said, “What can I do to help?”

  “You can make the salad,” said Solange, handing Amanda a bag of arugula. “Just wash it, drain it and dry it—drain it in the colander and then put it in the salad bowl with a lot of paper towels. You can put the salad dressing on the side.”

  “We are going to eat paper towels?” asked Amanda.

  “No, silly, you take them out just before we serve. They absorb any extra water,” said Armand.

  Amanda wondered if they would have learned to use paper towels in a salad if she and her Mom had been able to take those cooking lessons at Williams Sonoma.

  Solange walked into the living room and tuned the iPod to some hip-hop music from an artist that Amanda did not recognize.

  Solange and Armand prepared the dinner with some help from Father Francis and Amanda. Solange and Armand danced around the kitchen as they prepared the food. Even Father Francis started to dance around a bit, but Amanda thought that taking dance lessons would be enough dancing for her, thank you very much, so she did not join in.

  Amanda watched Solange and Armand prepare the food and thought that they had obviously cooked together a lot. Just as Solange took the French bread out of the oven, Armand handed her a basket lined with a napkin. And they just did things like that, with no talking and a lot of dancing.

  Solange and Armand placed a platter of pasta, a bowl of homemade spaghetti sauce, a small bowl of fresh Parmesan cheese, a loaf of French bread, butter, a bottle of organic salad dressing and Amanda’s salad, minus the paper towels, in the middle of the dining table.

  Everyone walked into the living room and sat down at the table. Father Francis said a quick blessing after Solange turned off the music, and then everyone helped themselves.

  “You ready for tomorrow?” asked Armand.

  “I got it all worked out,” said Solange. “You going up there with me?”

  “Sure, I’ll back you up, babe,” said Armand.

  “Back her up?” asked Peter.

  “Solange is going to sing with the Treme Trouts band. And this girl has roped me into being one of her back up dancers,” said Armand.

  Armand looked at Amanda. “You going to be up there too?”

  “No,” said Amanda. “I just got here.”

  “Amanda, Peter, and Thibodeaux will be with me watching. We won’t be anywhere near the stage,” said Michael.

  Armand looked at Michael with a questioning look on his face, but he did not say anything.

  “What time are we supposed to be there?” asked Amanda.

  “The party starts at 10 a.m. and I sing at noon. But I am going to arrive at 10 a.m.. You can go with me. I got backstage passes for all of you, you can hang with everyone back stage, it really is just the back of the outdoor stage, and then you can stand out front when I sing,” said Solange.

  Amanda looked at Michael and saw that he did not look happy at all, but she decided to just ignore him. Trying to keep Michael happy would be a full time job and would require a lot more cooperation than he was willing to give.

  Everyone finished eating. Father Francis said goodbye and Michael left to go next door to his apartment. Solange, Armand, Peter, and Thibodeaux all went into the kitchen to wash the dishes. Solange turned on a hip-hop station and she and Armand danced as they washed up the dishes and stored the food. Amanda looked at them and wondered if she could ever be that free, dancing just because she heard some music she liked.

  Afterwards, Solange turned on the TV and told Amanda, Peter, and Thibodeaux. “Hey, you watch while I go talk to my boy about tomorrow,” said Solange who then took Armand’s hand and walked back into the bedroom she shared with Amanda and shut the door.

  An hour later, Solange and Armand walked back into the living room and Armand told them goodnight and that he would see them tomorrow.

  Solange looked at Amanda and said, “I’m going to walk Armand to his car. Don’t lock the back door after me.”

  Solange and Armand walked back down the hall to the door at the back of the bedroom. Amanda got up and headed back like she was going to go to the bathroom and she entered the dark back bedroom. Amanda walked over to the window and looked down on the parking lot below. Amanda could see Solange and Armand standing next to an old Mustang that must be Armand’s car. Their bodies were illuminated by the dim light of the moon and a bit of light from the building next door. They were kissing. Solange had her arms wrapped around his neck; she was kissing him like she could not stand to let him go. Suddenly Solange looked up and Amanda stepped back a bit from the window. But Solange had not seen Amanda watching her—she was looking up at Michael’s apartment. Amanda saw Solange stop and stare for about ten seconds and then she said something to Armand who also looked up and then gave Solange another quick kiss and got into his car to leave.

  Solange walked back to the outside stairway. She took a another quick look up at Michael’s apartment, but whatever she had seen before must no longer be there, because she looked away and climbed up the rest of the stairway and entered the back bedroom. Amanda was no longer at the bedroom window. She was back in the living room thinking about what she had just seen.

  Chapter
V

  Monday morning, Solange woke everyone at seven, telling them that they needed to get dressed and out the door if they wanted a good place to stand at the party. Amanda thought that she had never before met a teenager who liked to get out of bed in the morning, and here was Solange, practically banging on the pots and pans.

  Amanda walked into the kitchen and saw that Solange had made coffee. She poured herself a cup and walked out onto the balcony still dressed in her pajamas. Everywhere she looked, she saw shops she would love to visit and restaurants that looked like they would be a lot of fun. But after the way Michael reacted when the boys went out for food yesterday, Amanda realized that she was probably not going to get to “hang out” on Magazine Street anytime soon.

  Amanda walked back into the apartment and saw that after a bunch of door knocking and some yelling, the boys were up. Amanda walked back into her room threw on her clothes (she had been smart enough to shower the night before so she would not have to compete with the boys for shower time) and sat on the bed watching Solange get ready to sing at the Lundi Gras party. Solange put on a short purple sleeveless dress with cut-outs on the side. Next she put on a pair of thigh high black boots with four inch heels. Then it was time for lace mitts that covered her from her knuckles to her elbows which she topped off with several large flashy bracelets that fit snuggly on her forearms. Solange left her hair loose and curly.

  “Hey, I don’t wear clothes like this every day. This is a costume. It’s a party so I’m bringing the goods,” said Solange.

  “May I ask you a question?” said Amanda.

  “Sure babe. What do you want to know?” answered Solange as she put on her makeup using the light of the window and the dresser mirror.

  “What’s up with Thibodeaux’s mom. Why didn’t she send for him?” asked Amanda.

  “Thibodeaux’s mom is my cousin Marie. She had Thibodeaux when she was sixteen-years- old and she never grew up afterwards. Marie became a jazz singer, so she was out most nights. My Mom used to take care of Thibodeaux; he practically lived at my house so he’s like my little brother. After I got old enough, I used to take him everywhere with me. And then we had the flood and all the schools down here got worse, if you can believe that, so my Auntie Tina came down here and got him and took him back to Harlem to live with her. She has him enrolled in some fancy school in Riverdale,” said Solange.

  “But what about his mother? Doesn’t she want to raise him?” asked Amanda.

  “Apparently not. But we have a huge family, well we did until Katrina made a lot of them move away. It’s our culture. Everyone in the family raises the children, so if someone has a Dad or Mom who doesn’t do his or her job, the rest of us step in. My Mom always said, ‘We’re a family walking through life. One of us falls down, the others pick up.’ Having Thibodeaux up north is best for him. but I sure do miss him. I call him my brother, but he’s more like my first baby,” said Solange.

  “Your first baby?” asked Amanda.

  “Now you get that look off your face. I may think of Thibodeaux as my first kid, but there won’t be a second kid for another fifteen years or so,” said Solange. “I saw what happened to Marie and that is not going to happen to me.”

  “Good,” said Amanda.

  Solange looked at Amanda thoughtfully and asked, “Has anyone told you about sex and birth control?”

  “I’m not interested in sex. I want to go to Harvard,” said Amanda.

  “But do you know?” asked Solange.

  “My mom told me and we studied it in school,” said Amanda.

  “If you have questions, you can ask me,” said Solange.

  “Are you going to wear a necklace today?” Amanda interrupted, changing the subject.

  “No. Most of the people watching will be too far away to see jewelry so I am keeping everything simple—just these big bracelets. A solid purple dress in honor of Mardi Gras and black boots. Here is Auntie Tina 101—anytime you are going to be seen from a distance, wear a solid color, pretend you are Queen Elizabeth,” said Solange.

  “You certainly don’t look like Queen Elizabeth. Are you sure she doesn’t wear prints?” asked Amanda.

  “No prints and no polka dots,” said Solange.

  “Good,” said Amanda.

  “I guess I better see if Michael got out of bed,” said Solange picking up her phone and calling him.

  Michael arrived a few minutes later, banging on the back door. Solange walked to the door and let him in.

  “Oh, no. No way are you walking out the door looking like that,” said Michael. “We are suppose to be hiding, not standing on a street corner.”

  “This is my costume, I have a long coat that I will put over it before I perform and afterwards. And last night I thought about what we are going to be doing today and we need to change our plans. You need to keep the kids with you and away from me. Don’t talk to me or stand anywhere near me, and don’t use those backstage passes” said Solange.

  “What?” said Michael.

  “Everyone there will have a camera or a cell phone camera and I don’t want the kids to end up in any photographs with me on Facebook. There will even be some press, so we need to pretend we don’t know each other and you’ll need to watch the kids by yourself. Take them to the party in your car and bring them home afterwards. I will drive myself and I know to be very careful that none of the camera people follow me home,” said Solange.

  “Okay. I got it. When will we be ready to leave?” asked Michael.

  “I made coffee and oatmeal. Oh, and there is a King Cake on the counter. Hey Amanda, go into the kitchen and eat breakfast,” Solange.

  “Yes, Mom,” said Amanda.

  Solange looked at Amanda, laughed and gave her a hug.

  “What’s a King Cake?” asked Amanda.

  “It’s a New Orleans tradition,” said Solange. “The bakeries make them every Mardi Gras season. You’ll like it. It’s a coffee cake with purple, green, and gold sugar icing. But be careful when you eat it. There is a hidden token inside the cake, a little baby Jesus, and if you find it, you might choke but you will also have to buy the next King Cake.”

  “I need to leave right now. Can you take it from here?” Solange asked Michael.

  “I’ve got it. When will you be back?” asked Michael.

  “I will be here by dinner time. But we are going to have to get take-out. I won’t have time to cook, but I will make sure these kids get one decent meal today. They will have to eat lunch at the party. There will be a lot of vending trucks,” said Solange.

  Solange bent over to hug Amanda who was sitting on the bed. Michael quickly looked away.

  “Put on your coat,” said Michael.

  “Yes, sir,” said Solange as she give Michael a quick hug. “Try not to be so grumpy, it’s a party.

  Solange started to leave and then she quickly moved back into the room and opening the top drawer of the dresser she pulled out a small silk pouch that was tied with ribbons and stuck it in her purse. Turning around she said, “I almost forgot my good luck. Bye now,” and walked towards the door.

  Amanda asked, “Good luck? What kind of good luck is that?”

  “Just some Mardi Gras juju,” said Solange. “It’s a bag of magic herbs. I carry it to ward off evil spirits.”

  Amanda thought about asking if she could have some too, but stopped. She did not believe in magic or evil spirits and lately she was not sure she believed in good luck.

  Solange left.

  Michael walked to the kitchen to be sure that the stove was off and that Thibodeaux and Peter had eaten something. Then he walked to the bedroom door and said, “Are you ready to go? I can drive through McDonald’s on the way so you won’t arrive at the party hungry if you don’t like oatmeal or King Cake.”

  Peter walked close to Amanda and said, “I sure am glad Mom does not know that we have been eating breakfast at McDonalds.”

  “You’ve got that right,” said Amanda.

  Michael di
d a quick check. “Does everyone have their baseball hats and sunglasses? You have to wear them all the time when we are outside. If you end up on YouTube, I don’t want anyone to be able to recognize you.”

  “You got it,” said Thibodeaux.

  “It may rain. Does everyone have their coats?” asked Michael sounding like a grumpy parent.

  Everyone grabbed their jackets, hats and sunglasses and then they left. Amanda thought that she was really glad that her mother did not know that she was going to McDonalds wearing a spaghetti strapped tank top, six earrings, stretch jeans and a velour hoodie. The only thing in or on her body from her former life was her running shoes.

  After going through the drive-through at McDonalds, Michael drove the car to the New Orleans riverfront and started searching for a parking spot. He found a parking garage about five blocks away, parked and walked the kids to the riverfront party.

  They arrived at ten at Woldenberg Park and the place was already filled with revelers, hyped to party at the Zulu Social Aid and Pleasure Club Lundi Gras (Fat Monday) Festival. King Zulu and King Rex were not due to arrive until 6 p.m. (Both Kings would float up to the docks on river barges, depart the barges and greet each other, thus marking the official eve of Mardi Gras.)

  Musicians were already playing and all around the perimeter, vendors were preparing traditional New Orleans food such as barbeque, red beans and rice, gumbo, hamburgers, hot dogs, and seafood. Smelling the food, Amanda wished that they had not stopped at McDonald’s on their way to the party.

  The crowd was in a festive mood, many people were already stand-dancing. Amanda looked around and thought that this was absolutely the strangest place in the world for three fugitives to hide. But it was a party and she was not in charge so she might as well try to enjoy herself.

  Michael managed to find a place close to the stage so they would be able to see Solange when she performed in a couple of hours. It was warmer than it had been and for once it was not raining in March, so Amanda, Peter, and Thibodeaux sat down on the grass in front of the stage.

 

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