The Big Apple Posse Trilogy Read online

  “Right,” said Miss Elinor. “You call me if you get into any trouble, you hear?”

  Miss Elinor put the dye on Amanda’s hair and then she turned on the television and gave her a magazine. Solange and Miss Elinor sat at the kitchen table and watched Amanda’s hair process.

  Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door and Miss Elinor walked to the front door of her apartment to answer. Amanda and Solange stayed in the kitchen out of sight.

  It was Michael with Thibodeaux and Peter who had sacks of food with them.

  Michael walked into the room and said, “Solange, we need to talk.”

  Michael turned to Miss Elinor, Amanda, Peter, and Thibodeaux and said, “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

  Everyone except Solange and Michael walked into the kitchen and shut the door. Amanda could hear Michael talking to Solange through the door and he sounded very angry. She could hear bits and pieces of the conversation about how he woke up and they were gone and then he found the two boys just walking down the street by themselves. Thibodeaux walked to the door and was listening intently when they heard Solange start to cry. Thibodeaux opened the door to the living room and said, “Don’t you yell at Solange.”

  “It’s okay.” said Solange. “Michael was just angry because we left without telling him where we were going. But I told him it won’t happen again. I will tell him where we are going from now on.”

  “No, you won’t tell me, you will ask me,” said Michael. “I promised my Dad that nothing will happen to any of you and I intend to keep that promise.”

  Solange looked like she was about to cry again. She turned to Miss Elinor and said, “Sorry to bring this upset into your home. This is Michael and he was worried because he did not know where we were, but now he does so why don’t we give him some coffee and put out the food Thibodeaux and Peter bought and we can all watch Amanda turn into a redhead.”

  Everyone returned to the kitchen and Solange put out the food. Michael poured a cup of chicory coffee, took one sip, quickly put it down, and took a seat to wait.

  After Miss Elinor finished coloring Amanda’s hair red, Solange insisted that she cut her hair to shoulder length and then Miss Elinor cut both Peter and Thibodeaux’s hair in the short style that was required by St. Barnabus School. Amanda looked at herself in the mirror and wanted to cry. It was not that she looked ugly with red hair, but it just was not her and she so longed to just be herself again—to live in her own home, to see her Mom, to hang with her friends at a Japanese restaurant, to go see the latest Twilight and Harry Potter films, to go to school. But no matter how sad having to change her hair color made her, she could not give in to it. She looked at her brother and the look on his face and walked over to Peter and Thibodeaux and said, “I think you look very handsome, both of you.”

  Soon they were all finished and they piled into Solange’s car to drive back to the apartment, Michael following in the Escalade. Amanda looked back at the Escalade as they were driving. It really upset her that Michael was mad at Solange. Amanda knew that having a seventeen year old girl in charge of three kids did not make any sense, but Solange was so sweet and fun that Amanda hated the fact that Michael had made her unhappy. Amanda looked across the front seat of the car at Solange as she drove the car. Solange seemed quieter than she had been earlier

  When they arrived, Michael followed them into the apartment and said, “Hey everyone, I am sorry I got mad, but I need to talk to all of you. I can’t have you just going anywhere you want to go. Some very bad people are trying to kill these kids and right now, I am the only one here to take care of you.”

  “Kill them?” asked Solange. “No one told me that people were trying to kill them.”

  “Well they are. They already beat up a security guard so badly that he is in the hospital. And they also attacked a waitress and all she did was bring the kids a sandwich.”

  “I did not know,” said Solange. “Did my Mom know this before she left?”

  “I don’t know if she knew, but I know it and now you do too, so we need to go over all of your plans and figure out how to keep you safe,” said Michael. “Hey kids, why don’t you watch TV for a few minutes while I talk to Solange in the kitchen.”

  Michael and Solange walked into the kitchen to talk. Amanda moved as close to the open door as she possibly could while still looking like she was watching TV. She could hear Michael and Solange talking and Michael was saying things like, “You are not taking them to a music festival and they are not marching in a parade.”

  Amanda saw Solange walk out of the kitchen and go back to one of the bedrooms and bring back a box that was stuffed with glittery garments, grass skirts, huge blond clown wigs, and purple feathers. Solange walked back into the kitchen and Amanda could hear her say, “No one will recognize them if they wear these costumes for the parade. I am going to paint their faces, too. And from what you tell me, no one knows what you look like anyway so you don’t even have to wear a costume.”

  Then Amanda heard them argue about the Lundi Gras party. Michael kept saying, “There is no way they can attend that party. It just isn’t safe.” And Solange said, “Let me show you how I am going to style them. They will look like New Orleans city kids before I am done. Just give me a chance.”

  Amanda could not hear anything more after that. She knew they were still talking, but they had lowered their voices and she could not hear. Then Michael and Solange walked out of the kitchen. Solange looked like she had been crying again but at least this time, Michael looked guilty. He reached over like he was thinking about putting his arm around her, but stopped when Thibodeaux threw his arms around Solange.

  “Hey kiddos, I am going to run to Walmart and get more food and some baseball hats and glasses you can wear tomorrow. You need to stay here with Michael. Father Francis will come by at six to bring your school uniforms. You will like him. He is another cousin,” said Solange.

  “How many cousins do you have?” asked Amanda.

  “You know I don’t know. Every time I turn around I get more and this whirl-around I got two really cute new ones,” said Solange as she hugged Amanda and Peter. But this time when she left, she did not speak to, or hug, Michael.

  The rest of Sunday flew by. As soon as Solange returned, she put out food for everyone and after they ate, she told them that they needed to go to the mall to buy new clothes.

  “You are not going anywhere without me,” Michael told Solange.

  “Great. You can drive, I’ll give you directions to the Esplanade Mall. It’s never that busy and it will have what we need,” said Solange. “Here kids put these on.” Solange had purchased baseball hats, tee shirts, and sunglasses at Walmart and she told Thibodeaux, Peter, and Amanda to put them on before they left. “You need to wear a hat and sunglasses every time you are out in public. I bought some really obnoxious sunglasses so you won’t look like you are trying to hide, but no one will be able to recognize you.”

  Solange had purchased cat eye sunglasses for Amanda and gold Elvis glasses for the boys. Amanda looked at her gold baseball cap, her sparkly cat-eye glasses, and the New Orleans Saints tee shirt that Solange had purchased and sighed. The only good thing that could come from wearing such bizarre clothing is that no one would ever expect Amanda Wolinski of Greenwich, Ct. to wear such an outfit—absolutely never as in never ever.

  Everyone piled into Michael’s car and left for the mall. When they got there, Solange told Michael, “Take the boys and buy some hipper duds for Peter and Thibodeaux so they don’t look so prep school. Here is that Visa money card that your Dad gave me. I wrote the password on this piece of paper,” said Solange.

  Michael handed the card back to Solange, “You use it. I have an American Express card and I will send the receipts to my Dad. I want you to meet me back here at this kiosk at 3 p.m.,” said Michael.

  “You got it, sir” said Solange as she grabbed Amanda’s hand and quickly walked away.

  The mall looked like every other
mall Amanda had seen except no one was shopping. Amanda walked through the almost deserted corridor with Solange. “Where is everyone?” Amanda asked.

  “They are at the parade. There were parades yesterday and today,” said Solange.

  “You are missing out on the parades?” asked Amanda.

  “Don’t worry, I go every year. Taking care of you, your brother, and Thibodeaux is a lot more important than a silly old parade. Besides, we are going to have a lot of fun tomorrow at the Lundi Gras party and Tuesday at the Zulu Parade.”

  “You are so nice. I don’t think I have every met anyone as nice as you. You don’t even know who we are and yet you treat us like we are your family,” said Amanda.

  “Well, I never had a little sister so this is fun for me,” said Solange.

  Amanda thought that it had been a long time since anyone had told her that knowing her was fun. She had lots of friends at school, but they fought a lot. The eighth grade was like that.

  “So let’s buy some clothes that won’t make you look like you just left the Upper Eastside of Manhattan,” said Solange.

  “I’m actually from Greenwich, Connecticut,” said Amanda.

  “Same difference. Here we are.” Solange walked Amanda into Macy’s and to the junior department where she insisted that Amanda buy several spaghetti tank tops in different colors, a couple of strapless bras, some stretch jeans that fit like skin and some hoodies. Amanda wanted to buy all of the clothes in neutrals—brown, gray, and black—but Solange insisted that she pick some white and pink tank tops even though it was early March in New Orleans and still quite cold. After those purchases, Solange took Amanda to an inexpensive jewelry store so she could have her ears pierced two more times (giving her a total of three in each ear) and then she purchased three small silver hoops for each ear.

  Amanda was in shock about the ear piercing saying, “My Mom will be furious about this.”

  “Well, at least we did not get your nose pierced. The earring holes will grow back in. Right now, you need to look like a dance student in New Orleans. Sweetie, you are beautiful, but when you and your brother arrived in town, you both looked like you just walked out of a Ralph Lauren billboard on your way to Brooks Brothers. No one dresses like that here except a few kids who go to very expensive private schools, the ones that aren’t Catholic,” said Solange.

  “Okay,” said Amanda. “Being a fugitive takes a lot of imagination.” Amanda was trying to be kind about her purchases of what she considered to be very bizarre clothing. But she knew if she wore these clothes, she sure would not look like she was from Greenwich, Connecticut.

  “There you go. Now let’s go find our cute boys and that grumpy Michael. You know, I never before met anyone that good looking who was that uptight,” said Solange.

  “I don’t think he wants to be here. He had a lot going on back in New York. He was interning for his brother, DJ True, and he has a girlfriend. I heard him talking to her on the phone when we were on our way down here and he would not even tell her where he was going and it made her really mad. He is giving up a lot for us,” said Amanda

  “So, let’s catch up with our cute boys and the grumpy grownup who is giving up a lot for us and has a good excuse for being a grouch,” said Solange.

  When they met at the kiosk, Amanda looked at Peter and Thibodeaux’s bags and saw that they had obviously been shopping at some store named Dillards. Neither of them looked happy about their purchases, but they did not have four new holes in their heads like she did. And she certainly hoped they had not been talked into buying any pastels.

  Michael was carrying a bag from a sports store. “Hey, I bought a basketball. I saw a court on our way over here. How would you like to stop and shoot a few hoops?”

  Solange looked at Michael with a bit of a surprised look on her face and said, “Sure. Thanks.”

  They left the mall and Michael drove them to a park. “I can’t believe there is a free court,” he said.

  “Everyone is at the parade,” said Amanda.

  “Why don’t Thibodeaux and I play against the three of you?” said Michael.

  Thibodeaux looked at Solange and Amanda and started laughing. He had shot hoops with Amanda when he stayed at her home in Connecticut after the attack on New York City and he knew how good Solange was at anything she did. Solange looked at Thibodeaux and then at Amanda and started laughing too as Amanda gave her a quick high five and said, “Oh, that would be great. I’m glad you gave us an advantage.”

  Michael looked a bit perplexed, “Okay, you’re on.”

  And the game was on. Peter was not a particularly good player even though his Dad and his Uncle Mark had spent hours teaching him to play sports so he could excel somewhere besides in his head, but he knew enough to not get in the way. Amanda and Solange were natural athletes. Michael was a pretty good player, plus he was older and taller, but he soon realized that instead of just showing the kids a good time, he was going to have to play the game. Soon Michael and Thibodeaux were dribbling and running at full speed. They would probably win, but it wouldn’t be a slam dunk.

  Everyone was laughing and talking trash to their opponents when Solange darted in to take the ball away from Michael as he dribbled it down the court. They collided and Solange was about to fall to the ground when Michael recovered and grabbed her around the waist, pulled her to his side and picked her up a few inches off the ground. Amanda saw him look right into Solange’s eyes and hold her a few seconds too long before he helped her up. When she was standing again, Solange stared at Michael for a few seconds more and then she grabbed the ball and started dribbling again. Amanda knew she had just seen something happen, but she was not sure exactly what it was.

  They finished the game, but Amanda could tell that things were different. Neither Solange or Michael were playing their top game so after about a half hour, they left to go home.

  When they got home, Solange logged onto the computer and opened a website that she had marked as a favorite. “Here, Amanda. You need to look at these ballet positions and memorize both them and their names. As soon as you are done, click on this link and look at the ballet movements and their names. Sorry about the homework sweetie, but you need to sound like you have taken dance lessons when you start ballet school, so first position, second position, adagio, arabesque, rond de jambe, you go girl. “

  “Right, I’m a redheaded ballerina who wears six earrings,” said Amanda.”

  “And when she is finished learning the ballet terms, Amanda and Peter need to read up on Chicago and Thibodeaux needs to find out a few things about Baton Rouge. Michael, would you help them find some sites so they can read about where they are supposed to be from?” asked Solange.

  “If you are busy, Peter can do that,” said Amanda. “He can find anything on a computer.

  Amanda was still studying ballet positions and movements when Father Francis arrived with a bag filled with school uniforms in a variety of sizes.

  Father Francis may have been Solange’s cousin, but he looked to be about sixty years old. He was a light skinned black man with partially graying hair and a rounded body. He looked like he might roll if someone pushed him.

  Father Francis walked into the apartment and took a quick look around. He looked at altars and smelled the incense and rolled his eyes.|

  “Hey, it can’t hurt,” said Solange.

  “Now don’t you go filling these nice young people’s heads with your Mama’s strangeness,” said Father Francis.

  Solange laughed and said, “They are just antiques. Some things my family has owned for hundreds of years. “

  “They are antique beliefs too,” grumped Father Francis.

  Solange hugged Father Francis (Solange seemed to hug everyone she knew) and said, “Please stay for dinner. I’m making spaghetti with this four dollar organic whole wheat pasta I bought at Whole Foods and I’m using Mom’s sauce recipe. And don’t worry, I won’t spell the food and I did not invite any witches unless this cut
e little redheaded girl turns out to be a witch.”

  “I am not a witch and I am not a real redhead,” replied Amanda.

  “I can’t resist Camille’s spaghetti sauce,” said Father Francis. “So this must be Amanda and Peter and oh my goodness, this is Thibodeaux?”

  “I’m getting taller,” said Thibodeaux.

  “You sure are. Why I don’t think I’ve seen you since you left for New York five years ago,” said Father Francis.

  Father Francis turned to look at Michael who was sitting at the dining room table reading the instructions for the security cameras. “Is someone going to introduce me to this young man?”

  Michael rose from the table and held out his hand, “Hi, I’m Michael Trudeau, Benedicte Trudeau’s son. I’m taking care of these kids.”

  “I’m so pleased to meet you. So you are Benedicte Trudeau’s son. I have always admired your father. He has been a true friend to New Orleans and Saint Barnabus Church,” said Father Francis.

  “Hey boys, why don’t you look at these uniforms and pick out some that will fit you,” said Father Francis.

  Thibodeaux and Peter opened the bag and took out a variety of sizes of light blue shirts and navy trousers. Thibodeaux held the pants up to himself to check for size and sighed, “I hope no one I know ever sees me looking like this.”

  “Well so do I,” said Michael.

  “Do I really have to wear these things?” asked Peter.

  “Yes,” said Solange.

  Peter and Thibodeaux unhappily took two sets of pants and shirts out of the bag and handed the rest to Father Francis.

  Father Francis turned to Thibodeaux and said, “So how is my good friend, your Auntie Tina?”

  “The same as always. She’s quite the woman,” said Thibodeaux.

  “Oh my, yes. She had the strongest will when we were growing up,” said Father Francis.

  “Did you and Auntie Tina grow up in New Orleans?” asked Amanda.

  “Yes. Tina is my cousin and both our parents had homes in Pontchartrain Park,” said Father Francis.