The Big Apple Posse Trilogy

by Williams , Wendy R

  “I didn’t know that Agent Marcum told your dad that he does not want us to come back. I just thought that our families were mad at the FBI because the bad guys found our school in New Jersey,” said Amanda.

  “There is definitely something going on here that we need to discuss with Cyrus,” said Miss Gaby.

  “But won’t your friend Cyrus want to tell the FBI?” asked Amanda.

  “No, he’s a cop, but he’s my friend too. Plus he is plenty smart. You’ll see,” said Miss Gaby.

  Amanda sat back in her chair and looked around the kitchen. She could smell something wonderful cooking in the oven and saw that the large blue Le Creuset pan on the stove top was being used to cook something that reminded her of the wonderful smells from the vendors at the Lundi Gras concert. They were definitely still in Louisiana.

  “What are you cooking?” asked Amanda.

  “Barbequed ribs, red beans and rice, and salad. The salad is in the refrigerator and we can eat as soon as the sleepyheads in the living room wake up,” said Miss Gaby.

  “Well, I’m hungry and they need to wake up or they will never sleep tonight,” said Grandpa Wally sounding just like a grandfather.

  Amanda picked up Solange’s bag of clothes and walked into the living room with her Grandfather who turned on the lights and said, “Time to get up, sleepyheads. Miss Gaby made dinner and I know you are bound to be hungry.”

  Amanda handed the bag of clothes to Solange and said, “Look what my grandfather bought for you. A nice lady at the store helped him and he got some really cute clothes for both of us.”

  Solange opened the bag and looked inside, smiled and got up and gave Amanda’s grandfather a hug, “That was so sweet of you. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Hey, I had a lot of fun. It’s been a while since I got to shop for pretty young girls,” said Grandpa Wally.

  Solange, Thibodeaux, and Peter strolled into the kitchen to see that Miss Gaby had put the ribs, the red beans and rice, salad, plates, and silverware on the kitchen table.

  “You should have woken me up. I would have helped you make dinner,” said Solange.

  “You needed to sleep so your bruises can heal,” replied Miss Gaby. “Besides, Wally and I had a lot of fun cooking and getting to know Michael and DJ. And we taught them how to make red beans and rice so they can now say they are a bit Cajun,” said Miss Gaby. “Here, everyone grab a plate and pour yourself some sweet tea from the pitcher on the counter. We can eat in the dining room.”

  And so they did. Miss Gaby put out place mats, matching cloth napkins, and coasters. She walked over and placed her iPod on a speaker dock and pressed play.

  “What kind of music is that?” asked Peter.

  “It’s called Zydeco. It’s Cajun music to go with the red beans and rice,” said Miss Gaby.

  “Oh,” said Peter.

  After everyone finished eating, they all tried to help clean up, creating a massive traffic jam in the kitchen until Michael said, “Hey, why don’t Solange and I do the cleanup while everyone else goes back into the living room?

  No one argued with Michael.

  Around eight that night, there was a knock on the back door. Miss Gaby opened the door and let in a man dressed in a uniform who looked to be about sixty years old. He was short and stocky and his face was a little red like he spent too much of his life out in the sun. Gaby hugged him, “Cyrus, thank you for coming all the way from Baton Rouge tonight on such short notice.”

  “Of course I would come after you called and asked for my help. But whatever could be so urgent that I had to come immediately and not tell anyone where I was going? And who are your guests? None of them look like they would have any business with the Louisiana State Police,” said Cyrus.

  “They wouldn’t in ordinary times,” said Miss Gaby.

  Miss Gaby quickly introduced everyone and said, “Let’s talk in the living room.”

  After everyone was seated, Miss Gaby said, “Amanda, why don’t you tell Superintendent Bernard the story from the beginning and then your friends can fill in any details you missed.”

  So Amanda began to talk about how she and Peter were in New York City to see their cousin Cindy perform in Annie at a theater in the East Village and how the three of them were trapped in the basement of the theater when a bomb exploded upstairs. How they had to escape through an old tunnel and about their adventures when they were trapped in a deserted New York City. How she overheard the thieves talking while they were hiding in a bar in a deserted Grand Central Station in the middle of the night and how she recorded them on her mini cam and also how Peter found a flash drive that the thieves left in the bar (they were drunk). And about how they met Thibodeaux, Mr. Garvain, Miss Virginia, and Thibodeaux’s Auntie Tina, all of whom helped them. And then how after it was over and she and Peter were hiding in New Jersey, the bad guys had found them and they had to hide in New Orleans with the help of Thibodeaux’s family and Auntie Tina’s lawyer, Benedicte Trudeau, who was also Michael and DJ’s father. And then last night, the thugs had found them again and slapped them around and locked them up on a yacht. And she told them about how she and Solange climbed out of the yacht window and jumped into the water and swam to shore, almost freezing in the process and ruining their shoes, and then about how the thieves found them hiding in a convenience store and beat them up–again.

  After she finished talking, her mouth really hurt from where the thugs had slugged her. It was amazing to think that so much had happened to one thirteen-year-old girl in such a small amount of time and even more amazing to think that the thirteen year old girl was her.

  Then, everyone else chimed in, telling Superintendent Bernard all the bits and pieces that Amanda had left out of the story. And Miss Gaby piped in and told Cyrus about her plan to hide everyone in Los Angeles after she figured out a way to travel.

  After they finished telling their stories, Superintendent Bernard just sat in his chair and did not say anything. He would take a breath and look like he was about to say something, but then he would stop. After he had had a few more moments to think, he looked at everyone in the room, all of whom were looking at him with an expectant look on their faces, and said, “When you said you needed my help, I had no idea. I never would have guessed that something like this would land in my lap all the way down in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.”

  “But you are going to help us, aren’t you?” asked Miss Gaby.

  “Of course I am,” replied Superintendent Bernard.

  “But you can’t tell anyone about us. No one. We think the FBI has a leak and that is why those terrorists keep finding out where we are hiding,” said Amanda.

  And then everyone piped in again and told why they thought there was a leak and Miss Gaby told her friend Cyrus why she thought that the perpetrators were not just jewel thieves and how she thought the story of the city being attacked by South African jewel thieves was just smoke and mirrors for what was really going on. “There has to be something else here, something right in front of us that we don’t see.”

  “If I can’t contact anyone else, and I agree with you that I shouldn’t, I won’t be able to find answers to those questions very quickly. But I will try to figure it out on my own without leaving any bread crumbs,” said Cyrus. “In the meantime, there is something I can do right away. I will lend you my motorhome. It’s an old seventies-era Dodge Travco, but I had the motor rebuilt and it has a new air conditioning unit, new tires, new frig, the whole bit. You can take it to Los Angeles and then I will fly out there and drive it back.”

  “Cyrus, you love that motorhome! It’s your baby,” said Miss Gaby.

  “I love it for hunting and fishing. But this is really important and you need to let me do my bit to help,” said Cyrus.

  ““I have never been in a motorhome,” said Amanda.

  “It will be fun. You can pretend you are a gypsy traveling across the United States,” said Miss Gaby.

  “Gaby has a real sense of adventure. Th
at is what makes her a great writer,” said Grandpa Wally.

  Amanda looked at her grandfather and Miss Gaby again. There was definitely something going on with those two.

  “I need to go back now. Tomorrow, I will take the afternoon off and drive the motorhome here. What else can I do for you?” asked Cyrus.

  “We will need some money cards. If I give you my ATM card and my code, would you take out about a thousand dollars and buy some prepaid Visa’s with cash. Do you think you can do that without attracting a lot of attention? They need to be purchased as far away from here as possible, but Baton Rouge will have to do,” said Miss Gaby.

  “We also need more burn phones—about a dozen. Do you think you can buy that many without attracting attention?” asked Michael. “You will need to keep a couple for yourself and give us those two numbers so we can be in touch. Also, we will need ammunition for my handgun. We are going to skeet shoot and target practice tomorrow and will probably use up everything we have right now.”

  “I’ll go to Walmart and buy a bunch of things at the same time. I will have my uniform on so if anyone sees me they will think I am buying those things for the State Police,” said Superintendent Bernard.

  “I am going to drive back to Dallas the day after tomorrow, but I will figure out how to give you more cash if you need it. Maybe I can send money by Western Union to one of the names on the new ID’s you said your Dad is sending,” said Grandpa Wally.

  Amanda looked at Michael with a questioning look.

  “My Dad is sending new ID’s and some more money cards so we will be okay for money. They will be shipped by Fed Express to Miss Gaby’s friend, Mrs. Lambert, and she will bring them to us tomorrow when she brings the school books and the curriculum,” said Michael. “Miss Gaby, do you have a digital camera? I need to take a photo of Solange to email to my Dad so he can make an ID for her.”

  “Of course. We’ll take care of that after Cyrus leaves,” said Miss Gaby.

  “Give me your Dad’s phone number,” said Superintendent Bernard. “I need to coordinate with him about the ID’s.”

  “Your father has done so much for us,” said Amanda.

  Michael turned to look at Miss Gaby and said, “Do you realize that none of us will be able to help you drive that motorhome? We won’t be able to risk being stopped and having to show our driver’s licenses because the only ones we have, have our real names,” said Michael.

  “That’s okay. I am a pretty good driver and I think you should all stay in the back of the motorhome where people won’t be able to see you anyway,” said Miss Gaby.

  “Let me work on this driver’s license thing,” said Superintendent Bernard (Cyrus).

  “But where will we stop at night?” asked Amanda.

  “You should stop at commercial campgrounds and use those prepaid Visa cards to pay,” replied Cyrus.

  “Everyone has done so much and spent so much money to hide us. What would we have done if we had to run and our families did not have money? What if someone who was really poor had overheard those thieves and turned in the tapes to the FBI? Who would take care of them?” asked Amanda.

  “Well, if we met them, we all would,” said Miss Gaby.

  “I know I would,” said Amanda. She was thinking about Peter and about how he was so smart but that there was no way he would have survived the bombings if she had not been there to help him and their cousin Cindy. Peter had always gotten on her nerves, it wasn’t easy being the older sister of a budding genius who happened to know he was a genius. But now that she had to take care of him, now that she was all he had, she felt differently about him—not quite the motherly way Solange felt about Thibodeaux, but something close. And the thought of Peter having to hide with no money for food and no one to help him made her feel sick.

  Superintendent Bernard made a list of everything they needed for him to bring tomorrow including some basic groceries to stock the motorhome. Miss Gaby gave him her ATM card and code and Grandpa Wally handed him about five hundred dollars in cash.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. The motorhome is stocked with dishes, pots and pans, and towels for about three people so you will need to pack up enough stuff for three more. And hey, it is going to be a little tight for all of you to ride to Los Angeles in that Travco. But there is one good thing—those old Travco’s don’t have a lot of windows the way the new motorhomes do, so people won’t be able to look inside and see who is inside. They will just see the people in the front seat,” said Superintendent Bernard.

  Amanda looked around the room and asked, “How are we going to travel all the way to Los Angeles without being seen?”

  “We will have to be seen sometimes,” said Miss Gaby. “But I asked Arnie to have a bunch of tee shirts and ball caps made that say University of Texas Summer Arts Program. If everyone wears those, most people we run into at an RV park won’t ask us questions because they certainly won’t want to listen to a bunch of geeks talking about art. The best way to get rid of nosy people is to bore them to death.”

  And on that note, Cyrus left.

  The rest of the evening was spent making preparations for the trip the day after tomorrow. Amanda looked around the house and thought that it would have been nice to stay here until the trial. It was a beautiful old house and there were loads of bedrooms, plenty of room to sprawl out. And outside there were woods to explore. But the house was just a stop on her journey so Amanda got the coats out of the dryer and the dresses from the bathroom and packed them with her new clothes in the new duffle bag that Miss Gaby gave her.

  The next morning, Grandpa Wally woke her at 7 a.m. and told her that it was time to practice skeet shooting. Amanda got up carefully so as to not disturb Solange who must really be banged up to need this much sleep. The entire time Amanda stayed with her in New Orleans, Solange had always been up at the crack of dawn.

  Thibodeaux had told her he wanted to learn how to shoot too so Amanda walked down the hall and tiptoed into the room where he was sleeping and shook him to wake him. Amanda then got dressed and walked down the stairs to see that Michael was already up.

  “Let’s go. Thibodeaux can come join us when he is ready,” said Grandpa Wally.

  “Did Miss Gaby warn the neighbors about the gun shots?” asked Amanda.

  “Yes, she told them that a couple of her friends were staying with her and would be shooting skeet and target practicing,” said Grandpa Wally.

  Amanda poured herself a cup of coffee and put on her now clean jacket and walked outside with her grandfather and Michael. It was cool outside now but it would warm up as soon as the sun was fully up.

  They walked across the backyard which was still covered in a misty morning fog and entered the woods. After walking for about a minute, they approached a clearing. The shotgun stand was set within the trees and the target and the traps were in the middle of the field.

  Grandpa Wally walked out into the field and started the traps which he had loaded the night before.

  “Here Amanda, show us your stuff,” hollered Grandpa Wally as he quickly moved away from the shot field and headed back to where Amanda was standing.

  Amanda picked up the shotgun and ignoring the stand, started shooting. She had not shot a gun in almost a year. The only time she was able to practice was when she spent about two weeks every summer with her grandfather on his ranch. But it was quickly obvious that Amanda was a very good shot. Soon the trap ran out of clay pigeons.

  Grandpa Wally went back out into the field and reloaded. It was Michael’s turn. He was obviously not as good a shot as Amanda, but he did manage to hit two of the clay disks.

  Thibodeaux joined them. He was carrying a cup of coffee.

  “Hey, do you want to shoot?” asked Grandpa Wally. “Let me show you how to use this shotgun,” said Grandpa Wally.

  Thibodeaux put down his coffee, took the shotgun, and after listening carefully to Grandpa Wally’s instructions, he fired the gun and fell to the ground.

  “What was
that?” asked Thibodeaux.

  “You need to brace for the recoil,” said Grandpa Wally taking the shotgun from Thibodeaux to finish shooting the round. “Why don’t you wait until we are done with the skeet and try target shooting? Learn one thing at a time.”

  “Okay,” said Thibodeaux sitting down on a stump to finish his coffee. “Will the handgun knock me down?”

  “I will stand right behind you the first few times you shoot, until you get used to the recoil,” said Michael.

  Amanda, Grandpa Wally, and Michael returned to shooting skeet. They each got about three more rounds before they were completely out of clay pigeons. It was obvious that Amanda was the best shot in the bunch.

  “Amanda was the best rattlesnake shooter I ever had on my ranch. And those critters can move around,” said Grandpa Wally.

  “Hey, you really ought to work on this and maybe go to the Olympics,” said Michael.

  “Your wouldn’t say that if you met my mother,” said Amanda.

  “My girl is right. I spent two weeks with Amanda after the bombings and Amanda’s Mom is very nice, but she is not the kind of gal to let her daughter touch a gun. She is way too Greenwich for that,” said Thibodeaux.

  “I miss her so much, and I’m not your girl,” said Amanda.

  “But we’re working on it, aren’t we?” asked Thibodeaux.

  Amanda had to laugh. She tried so hard to be stern with Thibodeaux, but he was so nice and so funny, it wasn’t easy. She really did like him, she just didn’t want to have a messy, gooey love thing going like some of her friends had back in Greenwich. She was definitely not the kind of girl to write some guy’s name inside a heart on her notebook and right now, she did not even own a notebook.

  “Melanie is not here so you are going to target practice, aren’t you?” asked Grandpa Wally. “I don’t ever want you to have to use a handgun, but I rest a lot easier knowing that you know how.”