“There’s Colette,” I said. “She’s pretty.”
“Prettier than Jasmine?” Nestor asked.
Jasmine was my special friend back in New York City. “No, not prettier than Jasmine.” Nestor didn’t like girls so much yet. It was different with me. Maybe because I’m older. Maybe because I just like the ladies.
“Where y’at, boys?” Colette flashed a smile.
“Nestor and I just came back from Jean Lafitte Louisiana.”
“It was cool,” Nestor added. “You’ve sure got a lot of stuff happening here.”
“Why are you so surprised?” Colette asked.
Nestor thought for a minute. “You don’t have neon lights flashing all over the place. There’s stuff here you could walk right past if you didn’t know it was there.”
“Why do you need neon lights?”
“To get people’s attention. How else could you find something?” Nestor said.
“You could just look,” Colette answered.
Nestor caught my eye and then turned to Colette. “Yeah, you could do that.”
I got the message. Somehow, we always ended up on the same wavelength.
This conversation got me thinking. Colette sounded like a person who knew how to find answers. I needed outside help to pull off my plan. And there she was.
“Colette, we’d like to take you to lunch. We’ve got some questions that need answering. Maybe you can help.” I turned to Nestor. “Am I on the right page?”
“Right page. Right time.”
Colette brought us to Daisy Dukes on Chartres Street. I loved the place as soon as I walked in. Nothing fancy. Wooden floors. Wooden tables and chairs. Just the smell of fine New Orleans cooking everywhere. That’s what I’m talking about.
Colette introduced us to the waitress. “They’re from New York, too.”
“New York City, the Bronx,” Jennifer said.
“New York City, Queens,” Nestor and I answered.
“I’m going to bring you boys a little something on the house. Lagniappe. No charge. I’ll be back in a few to take your order.”
There was so much to choose from, it was hard to decide. Nestor had a lot of questions. Colette was patient and explained the dishes to him. He didn’t look happy.
Jennifer came back with an order of grilled alligator and a side of red beans and rice. “Here, boys, give this a try.”
“This is what they call lan-yap?” You had to see the expression on Nestor’s face. “Is that French for alligator? Is this a real alligator? As in swamp? As in toothy smile?”
“Yes, Nestor.” Colette smiled. “It tastes like chicken, but a little gamier. Try it with a little mustard. L-a-g-n-i-a-p-p-e means a free, extra something.”
“Couldn’t she lagniappe me some french fries instead?”
Colette and I ate it right up. Nestor took a small piece, dipped it in mustard, loaded his fork with rice and beans, held his nose and shoved it in his mouth. He tried to accomplish the impossible—chewing without swallowing. We laughed as we watched him struggle.
Jennifer came back to take our order. “Nestor, I see you ate up all your grilled alligator. Can I get you some more?”
“No, thank you. It was delicious but I’ve had enough. For now.”
He actually said this with a straight face.
I ordered a fully dressed catfish po’boy with a cup of gumbo and a side of fried green tomatoes. Colette ordered fried oysters with a side of grits and collard greens and shared it with me. I was in food heaven. Nestor played it safe with a burger and fries.That was OK, too. We were all happy with our choices, and that’s what it’s all about.
We talked about school and then I brought the subject around to family. Honesty was the best policy for solving a problem. You can’t fix something if you don’t know what’s wrong. I told Colette the story from beginning to end so I wouldn’t leave anything out.
“You might think I’m crazy, but I think there’s a secret passageway that leads into the room we slept in the first night.”
Jennifer asked if we wanted anything else. We said no.
“I don’t think that’s crazy at all,” Colette answered. “There are a number of old houses with secret passageways used by the Underground Railroad to get runaway slaves to safety up north.”
“Yeah, like that Batman movie.” I turned to Nestor. “I’m not losing my mind.”
“What do these passageways have to do with runaway slaves?” Nestor asked.
Colette gave a history lesson. “The Underground Railroad, which started in New Orleans, was organized by abolitionists and individuals who opposed slavery. They hid runaway slaves in their homes and businesses, behind walls, in secret rooms, and underground tunnels, protecting them in their journey until they crossed the Ohio River into Cincinnati, Ohio, where they were guaranteed their freedom.”
“They took a train to freedom?” Nestor asked.
“It was a human train. People helped people.”
“So we know these passageways actually exist, but that doesn’t explain why Angel Not is doing this to us,” I said.
“Is it possible he’s just crazy?” Colette asked.
“When you look at the whole picture, everything is crazy. They probably took our phones so we couldn’t call home to let our parents know what was going on. I know it all sounds strange, but it’s the truth.”
Jennifer refilled our water glasses. She took her sweet time.
“I have a confession to make. I know now you’re telling the truth. Yesterday, when you used my phone to call home, I wasn’t sure I believed your story. Phil, even though I overheard you leave the message, and Nestor, I overheard you talk with your mama, I still wasn’t sure, so I did a little investigating on my own.”
“Investigating how?” Nestor asked.
“When I got home, I called your number to see who answered. I guess it was your mama. She kept asking, ‘Is that you, Nestor? Why aren’t you talking? Who is this? What have you done to my son? I can hear you breathing.’ I hung up.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.” Nestor was upset.
“You called my house, too?” I got angry. “Why would you do that?”
“Yes. I called your house. I guess your daddy picked up. He asked, ‘Phil, is that you? Are you OK? Why isn’t Aunt Delphine answering her phone? Whose phone is this? I know you can hear me—say something!’ I hung up on him.”
“I know they’re worried. They must have recognized the number was the same on the caller ID as when I called earlier and left the message.”
“I’m sorry. I only thought about checking your story. My daddy’s a detective. I guess it rubs off on me. Your parents would never be so upset if you weren’t telling the truth.”
I got up from the table. “I need to take a walk. I have to clear my head.”
My reaction surprised them, but I didn’t care. I needed to think. The streets were crowded with tourists. A man played a saxophone on the street corner. I listened for a few minutes and threw a dollar bill into his worn-out instrument case. I calmed down and rushed back to the restaurant to apologize.
“Here’s the thing. Colette, I can’t figure any of this out without your help. We’re supposed to leave my aunt’s house after dinner. We’ll call our parents later and tell them we were in a dead zone with the phone. We’ll smooth it out.”
“Why can’t we just tell them what’s wrong?” Nestor asked.
“Because we don’t know what’s wrong. Or if anything is wrong. We only know my family’s acting crazy, but maybe that’s how they are all the time. If I tell my parents about Angel Not showing up in the middle of the night, acting weird, and leaving headless chickens on my pillows, they‘ll tell me to come home right now. Or worse, they’ll get on a plane and come and get us.”
Jennifer brought us a fresh basket of bread.
“Are you even sure those people really are your family?” Nestor asked.
“No. I’m not sure. Maybe Madame Destiny was right…”
“Now you’re saying you believe the tarot cards?”
“No. I’m saying I believe the facts. I’m looking, and what I’m seeing doesn’t make sense. Madame Destiny’s warning is a fact. Taking our phones is a fact. Acting rude and weird is a fact. Asking when we’re leaving when we just got here is a fact. Not recognizing me is a fact. Not looking anything like me or my family is a fact. Trying to scare us is a fact.”
Jennifer brought us a huge slice of chocolate cake to share.
“You sound just like my daddy. He’s like that, too, when he tries to crack a case.
If they aren’t your family, then who else could they be?”
“Maybe it’s voodoo.” Nestor was serious. “Remember that movie when those people took over the bodies of the two old people? Then they went after the nurse.”
“The one where they wanted everlasting life?” I asked.
“Yeah, that one.”
“No, Nestor. That’s not what’s going on. That was a movie. This is real life.
We’ve got to sneak into that house when no one’s there and have a look around,” I said. “That’s why we’ll stay in a hotel for a couple nights until we get to the bottom of this.”
“But I have to tell you,” Colette warned, “no hotel in this city will let you check in. You’re kids. Minors aren’t allowed without adults.”
“So now what?” Nestor asked.
“I have an idea. My grandparents don’t live far from here. They’re away on vacation until next week. You can stay at their house,” Colette offered.
“They won’t mind?” I asked.
“They won’t know. And neither will my parents. I have a key. For emergencies. I’ll meet y’all there tonight at nine o’clock. I’ll go ahead of time and leave the door unlocked for you. You can’t turn any lights on because my daddy and the neighbors are all watching the house while my grandparents are away.”
Jennifer brought the bill.
“Won’t your parents want to know where you’re going?” I asked.
“I usually walk my dog at that time. I live two blocks away from there.”
“How will we get to her grandparents’ house?” Nestor turned to me.
“After Angel Not brings us to the train station, we’ll call car service for a ride.”
“How will we get around after that?”
“I didn’t figure that part out yet.”
Jennifer came back to collect the money for lunch and tip.
Colette said, “Don’t worry. My older brothers leave their bikes in my grandparents’ garage. They don’t use them anymore. One’s away at college, and the other is a high school senior and drives his own car. Just hide the bikes in the bushes in back of the house. It’s only for two nights. Just make sure you go in and out while it’s dark outside. I’ll write down the address, the phone number of the car service, and my phone number. Text me if you need anything. I have school the rest of the week, but if you need me, I’m around in the afternoon and at night.”
Colette called Jennifer over and asked to borrow a pen. She took a clean napkin from the dispenser and wrote down all the information. “If you can’t get me, and you need help, this place is opened 24 7. “ She added the address of Daisy Dukes. “Jennifer works until at least midnight. She’ll help you if anything goes wrong.”
Jennifer stood there. “Just making sure the pen writes.”
“I don’t know how to thank you,” I said.
“Be safe. Remember to meet me at my grandparents’ house later. It’ll be fine.”
“How do you get around?” Nestor asked Colette.
“I walk and take the street cars. My house is a couple blocks off the St. Charles line. You could take the street cars, too, but your aunt’s house isn’t near any stops, so you’d be better off with the bikes.”
“Thanks, Colette,” I said.
“This is huge,” Nestor said. “Thanks.”
“See you boys later. Good luck.”
“Thanks for the generous tip.” Jennifer watched us leave. She opened her mouth as if to say something else, but changed her mind.
We had to meet Angel Not at five o’clock but we had time to spare. We walked along the river for a while. We found a bench across from the Steamboat Natchez. “Things are falling into place. How would we have pulled this off if it weren’t for Colette?”
“Are you sure this won’t be dangerous?” Nestor asked.
“Dangerous how?”
“I don’t know. Just saying.”
“If it becomes a problem, I’ll deal with it then.”
“I guess I’m not as adventurous as you are.”
“Do you have any better ideas?”
“We could tell our parents. Or Colette’s father,” Nestor said.
“No. I’m handling this myself. If you’re too scared—“
“Who said anything about being scared?”
“So, stop complaining.”
“I’m just saying—“
“Don’t.”
Angel Not was already at our meeting place on Decatur Street. “You’re five minutes late. Get in.”
We rode in silence. Things were falling into place. As long as I kept thinking straight and Nestor stayed calm, we’d be fine.