The Big Apple Posse

by Wendy R. Williams

  Soon it was noon and time for Solange to perform. Amanda had walked over to Michael to ask a question about how long they were going to stay after Solange sang, when two black men who looked to be in their twenties saw Michael and came over to greet him.

  “Hey man, what are you doing down here? You signing up the local talent? And oh man, oh man, oh man, what is this?” said one of the men pointing at Amanda. “I know you like the hot models, but isn’t she a bit young, um hmm. This one is just off the conveyor belt, you got that new car fever, my man.”

  “Marcus, back off. She’s not my girlfriend. This girl and her brother and cousin are family friends and I offered to take them to Lundi Gras,” said Michael.

  Marcus started laughing, “Well, my my my, I wish my family was friendly with a looker like this girl here,” Marcus reached up and pulled Amanda’s ball cap and her glasses off her head. “You’re a big liar! You’ve got yourself another model.”

  Thibodeaux and Peter had been listening while Marcus talked to Michael. They rushed over to Amanda and tried to help her while Amanda jumped to grab her hat and glasses back from Marcus who was holding them above her head. Amanda could see camera phones out of the corner of her eye and realized that she was being photographed.

  Michael grabbed the hat and glasses from Marcus, stuck them on Amanda’s head and grabbed Marcus by the arm, “Don’t touch her. What’s the matter with you, hitting on a little girl like that? You want to go to jail?”

  “She’s really a family friend?” asked Marcus.

  “Yes, and if you bother her again, you’ll find out just how much my friends mean to me,” said Michael.

  “All right, man,” said Marcus.

  “You are such a jerk! Don’t you ever touch Amanda again,” said Thibodeaux.

  Amanda looked at Thibodeaux in horror. Thibodeaux looked at Amanda and then at all the video cameras and immediately realized what he had done and shut up.

  “Sorry Amanda,” said Marcus. “I guess I got a little riled up seeing Michael here with a hot chick and figured that we were going to be in a bidding war for Solange,” said Marcus.

  “What did you say?” asked Michael.

  “Now don’t tell me Solange is a family friend too. There are about five music reps down here and I bet they all make her an offer today,” said Marcus.

  Just then Solange ran out on the stage and screamed, “Hello New Orleans! I love you!”

  The crowd went wild. A group of kids up front started shouting “Solange, Solange, Solange,” and the rest of the crowd hearing her name joined in. Amanda was in shock. She had no idea that Solange was well known. Didn’t anyone think to check these things out before they decided to hide three kids with a seventeen year old?

  Solange walked to the edge of the stage and shouted to the crowd, “Hey, New Orleans, you want to hear a bit of Miss Nina?”

  The crowd yelled, “Go! Go!” as Solange still looking at the crowd walked backwards to the middle of the stage and then raised her arm and waved to the band behind her and began singing a cover of Nina Simone’s “Do I Move You.”

  The crowd stopped yelling and listened. Amanda looked around her and thought that she had never before been present for anything like this. She had attended a Taylor Swift concert, but Taylor was already a star. As far as Amanda knew, Solange was not supposed to be famous. She was a New Orleans girl who babysat and took ballet lessons.

  Solange finished the song to wild applause. When the crowd quieted down Solange signaled the band and grabbed Armand and moved to the edge of the stage and started gyrating to “Addicted to Love.” Solange then started singing the song while dancing with Armand. They were joined by another male dancer who handed a black Fedora to Armand and then put one on his head. The two dancers moved to each side of Solange and gyrated as she sang.

  As soon as the crowd had quieted down, Solange shouted out. “I’ve got time for one more. Does anyone here love Tina?”

  The crowd roared again.

  “How about some “Proud Mary?” yelled Solange. “You want “Proud Mary” to dance by the river?”

  The crowd roared and Solange started to sing “Proud Mary.” Amanda looked over at Michael and thought she had never seen a man look so mad and so stunned at the same time. Then Solange was in full swing, Amanda kept looking at Solange wondering how such a young girl could have such a huge voice. Armand and Solange’s other friend were dancing away on the side, stoking the crowd into a frenzy. Solange started moving backwards around the stage in small frenetic steps, circling Armand and her other friend and writhing to the rhythm.

  Suddenly the utter ridiculousness of the idea of three fugitives hiding in New Orleans with Solange overcame Amanda and she started giggling. Amanda had no idea where the laughter had come from, but she could not stop. Thibodeaux and Peter looked at her with worried looks so Amanda tried to reassure them, “Sorry, I don’t know…” but then she was off, convulsed in laughter again.

  Michael looked at her and said nothing. He certainly did not think anything was funny right now. But Amanda seeing the look on his face convulsed again.

  Peter walked up to her and touched her arm. “Are you crying?” he asked.

  “No. I’m laughing and I can’t stop,” Amanda said as she tried to hold her breath to stop. But it did no good, she tried to stop laughing and ended up snorting instead. And that made her laugh some more.

  And then to make things worse, it started to rain. Michael let them stay until Solange finished “Proud Mary,” her last song, and then he said, “Come on, we need to get out of here.”

  And grabbing Amanda by the arm, he marched them out of the park and back to the parking garage.

  Michael drove them back to the apartment, taking several wrong turns and stopping to see if they were followed. Then he stopped and pulled out his phone and called Solange. “You need to come back home and bring Armand with you. And don’t let anyone follow you. Make lots of turns and stop and look. We need to talk. Now.”

  “Is something the matter?” asked Peter.

  Michael turned to look at Amanda who was riding in the front seat across from him. “Are you okay? Did Marcus scare you? He’s a jerk.”

  “When he pulled my hat and glasses off, several people took photos of us and some of those phones could have been video-taping,” said Amanda. “Who is Marcus?”

  “He’s a DJ and he has his own record label,” said Michael. “But I don’t want you to worry. I am going to take care of you. As soon as we are back at the apartment, I will call my Dad and tell him we need reinforcements.”

  “Reinforcements?” asked Amanda.

  “Yes. What happened today with Solange changes everything. She cannot be seen with any of you now,” said Michael. “And I don’t know how she can take care of you if she is never seen with you.”

  “Do we have to move again?” asked Peter.

  “I really don’t want to leave New Orleans,” said Thibodeaux.

  “I don’t know what we are going to do yet. I will let you know as soon as I work it out. But you will be safe,” said Michael.

  Michael turned to Amanda. “Are you going to be all right now?”

  Amanda looked at Michael and realized that he was worried and scared for her. “Yes, I’ll be okay,” said Amanda. “Sorry about the giggling. I don’t know what happened. I was just thinking about how we are hiding in New Orleans with a seventeen year old girl taking care of us and she turns out to be Lady Gaga. I guess that’s not funny, but…” and Amanda was overcome with laughter again.

  “I’m glad to see you laugh,” said Thibodeaux. “I don’t think you’ve smiled since we all got back together.”

  “Well, when this is over, I promise to smile all the time,” said Amanda.

  “You do that,” said Thibodeaux.

  They arrived back at the apartments and everyone went into Amanda and Solange’s apartment.

  “I am going to move in here and sleep on the couch from now on. Being next door wo
n’t cut it now,” said Michael.

  Everyone moved into the living room and then Amanda said, “I want to talk to Thibodeaux and Peter alone. We are going to go into their bedroom and we will be out in a few minutes.”

  “Okay,” said Michael. “But when Solange gets back here, we all need to talk. We need to make some changes to our plans.”

  “Okay, will do,” said Amanda as she led Peter and Thibodeaux into their room and shut the door.

  Amanda sat down on one of the beds, facing the two boys who were sitting on the opposite bed.

  “Ever since Michael and DJ True picked us up at that diner, we have been letting other people take care of us. We have let them make the decisions and we have not been thinking for ourselves. Solange and Michael are great, even though Michael is grumpy, but now we need to start using our brains again,” said Amanda.

  “You’re right. We were The Big Apple Posse and we did all the thinking and planning that got us out of New York City. And we were the ones who got the goods on those thieves,” said Thibodeaux.

  “Yes, we did,” said Peter. “Why were you laughing so hard?”

  “I don’t know. I was standing there next to Michael watching Solange fire up the crowd and all of a sudden I realized how crazy this is. Why are we in New Orleans staying with a new music star and being guarded by a twenty-three year old man who works in the hip-hop business? That guy, Marcus, thought I was Michael’s girlfriend and all kinds of people took my photo when he pulled off my hat and glasses. That’s just not hiding,” said Amanda.

  “I should have hit him,” said Thibodeaux.

  “Me too,” said Peter.

  “That would have made things worse. Everyone would have video-taped you hitting him and it would be all over the internet,” said Amanda. “From now on we need to start taking care of ourselves and, of course, our new friends. Whenever anyone tells us what the plan is, we need to have a meeting and talk about it, not just go along with what they tell us,” said Amanda. “We can’t just let someone else be responsible for us. Mom would want me to take care of both of you.”

  “I can take care of myself,” said Thibodeaux.

  “Me too,” said Peter.

  “Right. We need to help each other.” said Amanda.

  “Why are you being so nice? What’s happened to you? You were really nice to me when we were trapped in New York City, but you acted like my sister when we were hiding in New Jersey,” said Peter.

  “Well, you are still annoying, but I have to act like a grownup now. But when this is over, I will make it up to you by being me again,” said Amanda. “So let’s make some plans.”

  Amanda, Peter, and Thibodeaux sat down and talked and made a list of everything they needed, starting with a half a dozen more burn phones. They thought and they pondered and they asked lots of questions.

  When they were finished their planning, Amanda turned to Thibodeaux and said, “Would you mind if I asked you a question?”

  “No. What do you want to know?” answered Thibodeaux.

  “What’s up with those altars and all the incense? Auntie Tina had those altars all over her apartment, but you told us it was just a hobby, like someone who keeps their Halloween or Christmas decorations up all year long,” said Amanda.

  “It is. Auntie Tina and Solange don’t really believe in those Gods. Those are just antiques, something passed down through the family,” said Thibodeaux.

  “And why did Solange take a pouch of herbs with her today?” asked Amanda.

  “Was it a pouch in a little silk bag?” asked Thibodeaux.

  “Yes,” answered Amanda.

  “Oh, she gets those from a juju woman who has a shop in the back of a tee shirt store just outside the French quarter. Well, that is where she used to buy them when I lived in New Orleans,” replied Thibodeaux.

  “But what are they for?” asked Amanda.

  “Whatever you want. You tell the old Auntie who has the shop what you are wishing for and she makes a pouch for you. Solange used to buy them for love or to make her a great dancer or if someone was sick,” said Thibodeaux.

  “Do they work?” asked Amanda.

  “I don’t know. I never bought one,” replied Thibodeaux.

  “But what do you do with them?” asked Amanda.

  “Nothing. Well, you can smell them. The love ones smell like flowers,” said Thibodeaux.

  “Oh,” answered Amanda.

  Thibodeaux left the room.

  Peter looked at Amanda and said, “He’s lying to us about the altars, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he is,” said Amanda.

  “I wonder if they will ever tell us.”

  “Probably not,” replied Amanda..

  Amanda and Peter walked into the living room where Michael was talking to Armand and Solange.

  “Amanda and Peter are hiding in New Orleans because their parents are getting divorced and their father is an abusive jerk. He has some money and he has private detectives trying to find them. You cannot tell anyone about them or tell anyone where Solange lives right now,” said Michael.

  “OK. I got it,” said Armand.

  “You can’t just get it. Someone could get killed if that jerk found these kids and since I doubt it would be the kids, it could be Solange or me or even you,” said Michael. “Their father is mob connected and it could get really ugly.”

  Amanda, Thibodeaux, and Peter all looked at Michael in amazement. Amanda had no idea that Michael was such a good liar.

  “I got it,” said Armand.

  “I hate to be the bad guy, but you need to go. Something happened today that has put these kids in danger and I need to talk to Solange,” said Michael.

  “Let me help. I want to help,” said Armand.

  “Thanks, but no,” said Michael.

  Amanda looked at Armand. She could tell that he was angry about having to leave Solange with Michael. “It’s Lundi Gras today. Are you just going to stay here and not attend any of the parties?”

  “I’ll call you tonight,” said Solange taking Armand’s hand. “Come on.” Solange led Armand into the back bedroom and closed the door.

  Amanda saw Michael looking at the closed door and then at his watch. Three minutes later Solange returned, “Armand is cool about everything. He won’t tell anyone he knows these kids.”

  “Okay. So now we need to talk. Why the hell didn’t you tell us you were famous? Didn’t you think that was something I would want to know so I could figure out how to protect these kids?” asked Michael.

  “I’m not,” said Solange. “That’s just something that happened down at the river. No one knows who I am. There were a bunch of my friends from ballet school up front and some of the people who come listen to me sing on weekends. They started yelling and it caught on. I’m sorry. I kind of knew there might be some carrying on, that’s why I told you to take the kids by yourself.”

  “You’re a show pony; you ripped the stage! There were music reps there who wanted to sign you! That’s not carrying on; that’s a disaster. Great for you but a disaster for us,” said Michael. “Okay, one more time. Why didn’t you tell me that would happen? If I had known we could have made different plans to keep these kids safe.”

  “I did not know, but it’s not that big of a deal. Folks just liked my music today. Tomorrow, it’s the Zulu Parade and then it is back to school for all of us. People will forget all about the concert,” said Solange.

  “Oh, no. There is not going to be any Zulu Parade for any of us. You can go, but the kids have to stay here,” said Michael.

  “No one will know who they are. I showed you their blonde clown wigs and face paint.” said Solange.

  “They can’t march in a parade. We had a disaster today. My so-called friend Marcus, you know DJ M, was there and he pulled off Amanda’s hat and glasses and people took photos and videos. And Thibodeaux said Amanda’s name. We are going to have to move these kids. They can’t stay here anymore,” said Michael.

  “It can�
��t be that serious. I promise, almost no one knows who I am,” said Solange.

  “Marcus told me that he was there to sign you and that there were five record companies interested in putting you in their roster,” said Michael.

  “What? No one is trying to sign me,” said Solange.

  “Yes they are. But you can’t sign with them. I will ask my brother to sign you to his label, but we can’t talk about that now,” said Michael.

  “No wait. I am going to go to New York with Armand and dance. I’m not going into the music business. Plus, I’m still in school,” said Solange.

  “We will talk about this later. But no one is going to march in a parade,” said Michael.

  “But I want to march in the parade. I have not marched in it since I left New Orleans. This may be my only chance for years,” said Thibodeaux. “Especially since you think we need to leave.

  “I really don’t want to wear a blonde wig and a grass skirt,” said Peter.

  “It’s just one day. Why don’t you let these kids have one day of fun? Marching in the second line of the Zulu parade is amazing. They will never forget it,” said Solange.

  “Especially if they end up on the internet and those thieves find them. They already came to their school and followed them into the city,” said Michael.

  “I don’t think we should march in a parade. We are fugitives,” said Amanda.

  “Can they march if I promise no one will be able to recognize them? I promise you won’t know them by the time I am through dolling them up,” said Solange.

  “Come on. It’s the best parade and the second line where we will be marching is the most fun,” said Thibodeaux.

  “This is so strange,” said Peter shaking his head.

  “Let me call my Dad and figure out what we are going to do. I need help cuz this situation could easily get out of hand. What am I saying? It’s already out of hand,” said Michael.

  “Okay. Come on kids, let’s go try on your costumes,” said Solange walking back to the back bedroom.

  Amanda followed Solange to the back bedroom passing Michael who looked both mad and confused. Amanda understood just how he felt but right now, she needed to try on her blonde Raggedy Ann wig.