They arrived at the Catholic school and the boys came downstairs to meet them in the parking lot. Amanda hugged both Thibodeaux and Peter and this time Peter did not try to shrug away. Both Peter and Thibodeaux were thrilled to see them and also thrilled to have the chocolate cake. Maybe cooking was not such a bad idea after all.
Chapter VIII
Thursday morning started pretty much the same. An overly enthusiastic Solange woke up Amanda and Michael at seven. Michael immediately left to go next door and Amanda got up, showered, ate breakfast, and got ready for Sister Anne to arrive at nine.
While Amanda and Solange were sitting at the dining room table eating oatmeal and drinking coffee, Solange looked at Amanda with a worried look on her face.
“What’s wrong?” asked Amanda.
“Michael said he would not be home tonight until late?” asked Solange.
“Yes, he said they would might not be back until midnight, he needs to go to some meetings with Terrence/DJ True,” said Amanda.
“I am singing tonight and I had planned to leave you alone with him tonight,” said Solange.
“Singing at a club? Why are you doing that when those bad guys are looking for us?” asked Amanda.
“No one knows I will be there. I am substituting for a singer that got sick. I told them I would do it but that they could not publicize the fact that it was me because my mother does not want me to work on school nights. They promised they would not advertise,” said Solange.
“Well, I will just stay here by myself. I can watch TV,” said Amanda.
“I can’t leave you alone now that we know those thugs are in New Orleans. Armand is going with me and he will sit with you backstage. Neither of you can go into the club because you are underage. I probably should not be there either, but I know the manager, he is a big fan of my music and I really want to do this favor for him,” said Solange.
“But you said you wanted to be a ballet dancer in New York. Why do you want to do favors for a club manager?” asked Amanda.
“I do want to be a ballet dancer and Armand and I have been planning for years to go to New York together. But something happened at Lundi Gras. I was performing in front of a large crowd for the first time and it was like the audience was touching me and I was touching them. I had never felt that before, even when I am dancing,” said Solange.
“They really loved you,” said Amanda.
“I know. And I loved them too,” said Solange. “But you cannot tell Michael. We will just wait until Michael and DJ leave and then we will go to the club. My set is at 10 p.m. and we should be home in bed by 11 p.m..”
“I don’t think this is a good idea and if you go, I should stay here,” said Amanda.
“No, it is not a good idea but I can’t leave you here by yourself either. But I think we will be okay. We will have Armand with us and we know enough to be careful,” said Solange.
Just then Michael returned to the apartment and Solange and Amanda quit talking.
Amanda thought about telling Michael about Solange’s plans. She knew he would be mad and there would be an argument about whether Solange should sing and Michael would never let Solange take her to the club. But if she told him, at the very least, she would end up having to spend the evening with Michael and his brother as they took care of their “music business” and that was certainly something Amanda did not want to do. So she kept her mouth shut.
Sister Anne arrived at 9 a.m. and from then on Wednesday morning proceeded just like Tuesday. Amanda worked on the workbooks that Sister Anne had brought for her and she bookmarked some news articles on the internet that Sister Anne thought she should read on her own time.
Then it was time to eat lunch and get dressed and ready to leave for ballet. Amanda knew she would be at the ballet school for a long time so she packed some snacks. But in Solange’s world, all the snacks were organic so the only snacks Amanda could find were some almonds and some dried apricots. Loading up an aluminum water bottle, (Solange did not approve of plastic water bottles and Amanda guessed she should not either), Amanda and Solange ran downstairs to meet Michael.
Michael pulled up in front of the ballet school and telling them to wait in the car, he got out and did his usual surveillance. But everything must have been all right because he motioned for them to get out of the car and go into the school. Michael left, saying that he would be back with DJ True at around 5:30 p.m..
Solange followed Amanda into the school and said, “Did you know that Michael’s brother, DJ True, has a record label?”
“Yes, Michael said something about it and how he would ask him to sign you but you said you were not interested, that you wanted to be a dancer,” said Amanda.
“That’s right. That’s what I said,” said Solange as she turned to go to her class.
Amanda struggled through another two hour ballet class, thinking that learning to be a ballet dancer must be as hard as becoming a Marine. The class was harder today because it was the third day in a row that she had practiced ballet—once with Solange on Monday night, then yesterday’s class. But Amanda remembered how she was supposed to look like she loved ballet so she smiled a lot and faked love.
Soon the two hour class was over and Miss Rafaela took Amanda aside and worked with her for another half hour. During the last fifteen minutes of Amanda’s private lesson, Miss McMartin also entered the room to watch.
“It looks like you have never had any formal ballet training,” said Miss Rafaela.
“No, I haven’t but I always loved it and loved hearing about how my cousin Solange was a dancer,” said Amanda.
“It’s so odd, Solange being your cousin?” asked Miss Rafaela.
“Yes. I know we don’t look alike but we have a pretty big family and none of us really look like the others,” said Amanda.
“Are you adopted?” asked Miss Rafaela.
“I don’t think so,” said Amanda.
“Okay. Well you are getting better. You have the basic body structure of a ballerina, but your muscles and posture have not developed the way they would have if you had started studying at the age of eight. You might still become a ballerina, but you are going to have to work really hard and want it a lot,” said Miss Rafaela.
“Nothing would make me happier,” said Amanda lying through her teeth.
Miss McMartin left the doorway and walked over to Amanda and looked her over. “You obviously have no clue what you are doing.”
“No, ma’am. But I do want to learn,” said Amanda.
“You will need to practice four hours a day from now on, and if you do, there is a chance that you might actually be able to dance some day,” said Miss Martin.
“Thank you,” said Amanda. “I would love to be able to dance the way the rest of your students dance.”
Miss McMartin left the room.
“Is that nice young man coming to pick you up?” asked Miss Rafaela.
Amanda answered, “Not until 5:30. He had to pick up someone from the airport.”
“Okay. So I guess you better wait downstairs because I need to close down this floor,” said Miss Rafaela.
Amanda went down the stairs and quietly entered the second floor studio and took a seat on the floor at the entrance to the room. Solange’s class was busy doing their floor work and Amanda immediately understood why Solange and Armand were planning to go to Juilliard. They were both wonderful and totally stood out among a class of very talented dancers.
But talented dancers or not, Amanda knew she would be watching for another hour and a half so she pulled out her Ereader and her water bottle and proceeded to read.
Soon the class was over and everyone but Solange and Armand left.
Solange and Armand drank some water and then Solange looked intently at Armand and said, “Dance with me, babe.”.
Solange walked over to an iPod player and inserted her iPod and selected some tango music (“Santa Maria [Del Buen Ayre]” by The Gotan Project). The music was haunting; suddenly
the studio was transformed. The sun was setting in the West and the room was bathed with beautiful light. Solange walked to the center of the room and looked at Armand who walked toward her, never dropping his gaze from her eyes. They began to dance.
Amanda was spellbound. Everything was wonderful—the light, the music, and most of all the two dancers. Solange and Armand danced like they were born to dance together. It was obvious that Solange trusted Armand completely as he lifted her and pulled her across the floor. Amanda thought that she would probably never forget the magic of this moment, then she realized that she was probably not the only person who felt that way. Michael and Terrence/DJ True had arrived and were standing quietly in the doorway. Amanda looked at them and saw that they both looked stunned. Here again, something had just happened and Amanda was not at all sure she knew what it was. But Amanda did know that suddenly out of the blue, she did want to be a dancer and this realization shocked her to her core. That is she wanted to be a ballet dancer if she could be one part time while she attended Harvard. Well, maybe.
Solange turned and she saw Michael and DJ True starring at her. Solange motioned to Armand to stop dancing and she walked over to Michael and Terrence/DJ True and said, “Hi, I am Solange Montplasir and these are my friends, Amanda and Armand. And you must be Terrence all grown up and turned into DJ True.”
“Yes I am and you and your friend are very talented dancers,” said Terrence/DJ True. “Michael, you did not tell me this little girl could dance too.”
“Solange can do a lot of things. She’s not bad with a basketball either,” said Michael.
Armand looked at the two guys admiring his girlfriend and he turned to Solange and kissed her on the mouth, making the kiss last a little longer than it should. “Bye now. I will see you later.”
Armand left. Michael looked at Armand climbing down the stairs and then he turned to Solange and said, “What did he mean about later? DJ and I have some business we need to take care of tonight and I thought you had agreed to stay home with Amanda.”
“I did. I am going to take care of Amanda. Armand always says ‘see you later,’ to me when he leaves,” said Solange.
“Hey, that guy was just marking his territory,” said Terrence/DJ True.
Michael looked a little worried, but he let it pass. “Let’s go. We need to stop by a take-out place and get some food for you girls and then DJ and I need to leave and take care of some business.”
They all piled into the car—Michael and Terrence/DJ True in the front and Amanda and Solange in the back.
Terrence/DJ True turned around to speak to Solange, “Michael tells me that some music reps were trying to sign you at the Lundi Gras party.”
“Well, that’s what Michael told me, but no one talked to me,” said Solange.
“Solange is going to be a ballet dancer,” said Amanda.
“I saw that and you are very talented,” said DJ True. “But I don’t want you to talk to any other reps about signing. My company is owned in part by members of your family and if you want to sign with someone, you need to sign with me.”
“Which family members?” asked Amanda.
“Our dad and Solange’s Auntie Tina. They both have investments in the music industry and they will want you to stay with the family,” said DJ True.
DJ True looked at Amanda, “Can you sing?”
“Who knows? I had no idea that I could dance until three days ago,” said Amanda.
“Okay, you let me know,” said Terrence/DJ True.
Michael pulled into the same barbeque place where they had bought dinner before, and he ran in and got food for Solange and Amanda while they waited in the car. Then they arrived at the apartments and Michael and DJ’ took DJ’s bag upstairs to Michael’s apartment. Michael then walked into Solange and Amanda’s apartment and checked it out. “Okay, now. You two stay out of trouble and I will check in on you when we get back at around midnight. My cell is programmed into both of your cells, right?” asked Michael.
“We’ll be fine,” said Solange. “Don’t worry about us. We’re big girls.”
“Right,” said Michael.
As soon as they left, Amanda and Solange ate and then Solange told Amanda, “Armand just texted me that he has to work at the restaurant where he waits tables tonight so he won’t be able to go with us. But we’ll be fine. We just need to doll you up so you look older and can sit in the club without drawing attention to yourself. I can’t leave you backstage alone.”
“Don’t you have to be twenty-one to go into a club in New Orleans?” asked Amanda.
“Eighteen, if you don’t drink and you certainly are not going to be drinking,” said Solange.
“But I am thirteen years old,” said Amanda.
“I know that, but you won’t look thirteen when I get through with you. Go jump in the shower and wash and blow dry your hair. I will pick out some of my clothes for you and then I will make you up and do your hair,” said Solange.
Again Amanda thought about what her mother would have thought about this plan and again she realized how little control she actually had over her life. But she did do one thing. When she was in the bathroom and Solange could not hear her, she called Peter and Thibodeaux and told them the name of the club where Solange would be singing tonight and that she would call them as soon as they were home safe. Peter was worried about her going to the club with Solange, but Amanda overheard Thibodeaux telling him, “Hey, Solange can handle anything. They will be fine.”
Amanda finished showering and washing her hair and then she blew her hair dry and straight. When she walked into the bedroom, Solange had put a simple black sleeveless sheath with a string a pearls and some pearl earrings on her bed. Amanda was amazed. The outfit looked totally Greenwich or at least, totally Talbots.
“Where did you get this outfit?” asked Amanda.
“Honey, I go to a very nice Catholic girls school, well I did until Sister Anne began tutoring me, plus the ballet has parties for the benefactors and I have to look uptown. Hey, did you think I always wear purple dresses with cut outs?” asked Solange.
Amanda put on the dress and tried on a pair of Solange high heeled sandals. They were in luck. The sandals were only a bit too big.
Solange was also dressed in a classy black wrap dress that clung to her body, the wrapped fabric creating a plunging neckline. Solange also put on a string of pearls, pearl earrings and black strappy sandals.
Solange then fixed Amanda’s hair in a loose bun with curling tendrils and bangs. She also made up Amanda’s face with a very light hand but an emphasis on smoky eyes and a bright red lipstick. Amanda looked at herself in the mirror and thought that she just might be able to pass for eighteen.
“Are you sure they will let me into the club?” asked Amanda.
“Of course. You look like a young Grace Kelly, just with red hair. But we will go in the back door with the entertainers. Besides this is a jazz club and they don’t get a lot of underage kids who want to slip in and listen to jazz, so they don’t check the way they would at a dance club,” said Solange.
Amanda only had one coat—a white down puffer jacket, the same coat she had been wearing when she ran from her school in New Jersey, so she put that on and noticed that Solange was also wearing a white puffer coat. It was cold for early March in New Orleans.
“Hey, we’re creating a new style—puffer coats with everything,” said Solange.
Amanda checked her purse to see if she had everything and then she stuck her cell phone into her jacket pocket. She then followed Solange down the stairs and got into the car.
Solange drove to a club in the French Quarter. They parked the car on the street, fed the meter and then they walked around to the back of the club and Solange banged on the door. An older man opened the door and said, “Great. I’m glad you are here. You are really helping us out. And who is this?”
“Hi Arnie, this is my cousin from Chicago, Amanda Pascal,” said Solange.
“This l
ittle girl is your cousin. Well, I can certainly see the family resemblance,” said Arnie.
“Everyone says that,” said Amanda as she walked into the back of the club.
“Amanda will stay back here with me until it is time for me to go on,” said Solange. “Then she will come out front and watch me perform. Will you set aside a seat for her and let her know where it will be?”
“Of course. There is a house table to the right of the stage. There is a sign on it that says reserved. When it is time for Solange to sing, you can just take a seat there,” said Arnie.
Amanda and Solange stayed backstage until it was time for her to go on at 10 p.m.. Solange spent the time looking into the mirror and checking her makeup. When she was finished, she touched up Amanda’s face.
Amanda watched Solange touching up her eye shadow and said, “May I ask a question?”
“Of course. What do you want to know?” replied Solange.
“What is up with all the Voodoo/Santeria looking altars that you, your Mom, and Auntie Tina have all over your homes?” asked Amanda. “Are they Voodoo or Santeria?”
“Both, babe. We are equal opportunity juju lovers. Hey, they are just relics. Antiques really. Something my family has had for generations,” answered Solange.
“But why do all of you have them? And why is it that the first thing you did when we moved into the apartment is set them up and light the incense?” asked Amanda.
“Honey those old things are nothing now but when I was growing up my grandmother told me that her ancestors used them to scare white people back in the days when it was really hard to be black in New Orleans. And sort of like that chicory coffee that no one really needs to drink anymore, we kept them around. It’s New Orleans and the old ways last longer here,” replied Solange.
“Oh,” said Amanda.
Solange looked at Amanda carefully, “Are you telling me they are still working and they are scaring you?”
“Not really. I am not scared of the ones in our apartment. But when we were staying with Auntie Tina after the attack on New York City, she did something magical to capture those two thieves we turned over to the FBI. Our friends Mr. Garvain and Miss Virginia helped her and afterwards, they were in awe, but no one would tell us what happened,” said Amanda.
The Big Apple Posse Trilogy Page 25