Listen to Your Heart - Fern Michaels [24]
“Percy Humphrey, Harold Dejan, and the Olympia Brass Band. I saw it in the paper this week. I haven’t been there for a while myself.”
“Do they still have those hard wooden chairs and the mildewed cushions on the floor?” Josie asked as she held out her hand to feel the first raindrops of the evening.
“It’s still as run-down as ever, but it is a landmark. I think of it as a rustic environment. Do you want to change your mind since it’s starting to rain?”
“No. I have to warn you: My hair will spread out like a fire bush. When it rains I need a hat.”
“We can fix that. We’ll buy you a hat!”
“That’s the best offer I’ve had all day,” Josie retorted. “If we have time, I’d like to stop at this other club my sister loves: Port Orleans, 228 Bourbon Street. Kitty and Harry are friends of the band. She says they are the greatest, and she doesn’t impress easily; nor does Harry. The band is called Butterfunck. Johnny Pappas on guitar and lead vocals, Réné Richard on bass, and Trey Crain on drums. She said she would kill to look like Johnny’s girl, Jeanne Boudreaux. So, we need to check her out, too. She raves about them all the time. I’d like to see them. Do you mind?”
“It will be my pleasure to take you there wearing your new hat.”
“You are too kind, sir.” Josie giggled. “Ah, I see a parking space. Hurry up and grab it!”
“You are aggressive, aren’t you?” Paul said, as he expertly maneuvered the big Mercedes into the spot.
“I don’t think we’ll have to worry about anyone stealing this car when they see the inside.” Josie giggled again.
“It’s raining harder. Are you going to be able to walk in those shoes?”
“No, these shoes are for standing around in or sitting down. I’ll carry them and go barefoot. This is the Big Easy and Bourbon Street. Anything goes—you know that.”
“Then let’s do it!” Paul reached for her hand, and they sprinted off. He stopped for a minute and pulled her close to him. “This is the most amazing street in the world. Just look at it! Look at the people. You can literally smell the street and it never leaves you. You can be ten thousand miles away, and if you close your eyes, you can see and smell and hear everything that goes on. This is what I remember when I think of New Orleans. I’ve always loved the French Quarter, the Garden District, the French Market, and Bourbon Street. Did you ever attend Mardi Gras?”
“Sad to say, no.”
“Here we go,” Paul said, pulling her into the first shop, which was like a dozen other shops along the way. Within seconds she was wearing a baseball cap that said BOURBON STREET. She giggled when Paul plopped one on his own head. He looked cute in his custom-made suit and baseball cap, the ponytail sticking out the back. She reached for the feathered mask and the strands of beads he handed her—Mardi Gras beads. “Your neck will turn green and red but what the hell! This is Bourbon Street, and no visit is a real visit unless you buy a mask and the beads. Okay, let’s go. Run!”
They were soaked to the skin when they reached Preservation Hall. Paul handed over the admission money and was told, “Standing room only, sir.” He looked questioningly at Josie, who shrugged and nodded.
Josie pointed to a sign over the musicians’ heads. She whispered, “You have to pay extra for them to play ‘When the Saints Go Marching In.’ It doesn’t say how much.”
Paul reached into his pocket as he walked over to the cashier and spoke quietly. She heard him say, “Now, when this set is done.” Money talks, Josie mused.
Josie almost swallowed her tongue when Percy Humphrey stood up and said, “And now for the little lady with the baseball cap and curly hair, we are going to play ‘When The Saints Go Marching In.’ Hit it, boys!”
Josie’s cheeks flamed. “I can’t believe you did that!” The old building literally shook with the thunder of the small crowd who stomped, sang, whistled, and clapped; Josie’s voice was the loudest.
As they