The Riverfront Streetcar was jammed with people visiting New Orleans just like the Aldens. Everyone seemed to be wearing a silly hat or carrying a colorful souvenir umbrella to shade themselves from the hot sun.
“New Orleans is just like a carnival,” Violet said, holding onto the center pole of the streetcar. “They seem to have little parades going on all the time.”
“I’m so squished I don’t need to hold onto anything,” Benny said. “This streetcar is so crowded.”
“Just hang in there, Benny,” Henry said. “Miss Chase told us the French Market is only a few stops down the line.”
As the streetcar rolled along, the Aldens tried to look at everything at once. Just a few feet from the tracks, the sidewalks were filled with street musicians, food carts, artists painting portraits of tourists, and people buying trinkets from sidewalk stands. The Aldens could hardly wait to join in.
“Jackson Square! Jackson Square!” the conductor called out when the streetcar finally came to a stop.
“Does everyone have everything?” Jessie asked.
The younger children felt for their backpacks. The Aldens liked to carry around whatever they might need on their outings — cameras, books, sketch pads, and snacks in case they got hungry, which they always did.
“Everything’s still here but kind of mashed,” Benny said. He looked into his backpack to make sure his cowboy wallet, his new book, and his box of raisins were safe and sound.
“My sketch pad and coin purse are here. But wait, Jessie. Look at your backpack!” Violet cried. “The flap came untied.”
Without even checking, Jessie ran alongside the streetcar to see if anything had fallen from her backpack. “Wait!” she called out to the conductor.
But the Riverfront Streetcar had pulled away.
“Too late,” Jessie said. She put her pack down on a sidewalk bench. “I’m sure I tied the flap down tight before we left.”
Jessie emptied her backpack on the bench. “Let’s see if I still have everything. Here’s the street map. The Thermos. My address book. My camera and wallet. My mystery book. What else did I have in here? Oh, good, your book is here, too.” She picked up The Little Mermaid that Violet had stuck in there for reading later on.
With that, Jessie repacked everything and closed the flap. Then she put down her pack on the bench so she could check the map. “Now let’s see where we are. According to the map, the French Market and the café Miss Chase told us about should be right in front of us.”
“Let’s just follow that nice smell,” Benny said, sniffing the air.
The other children took a deep whiff, too. A wonderful scent of fried dough, chocolate, and coffee floated around them.
“Mmm, it’s coming from over there,” Violet said as the children stood on their tiptoes to see over all the people crowding the big square.
“Then let’s go,” Benny said, pulling on Jessie’s arm.
Jessie folded the map and bent down to put it away. “Oh, no,” she cried, “my backpack is gone!”
The children looked high and low around the bench and retraced a few steps, but the green backpack was gone.
“Wait. Look at that woman over there,” Henry told Jessie. “Isn’t that your pack dangling from her arm?”
Jessie didn’t take the time to answer. With the other children right behind, she chased after the woman through the crowd, never taking her eyes off the backpack.
When Jessie finally caught up, she tapped the woman’s shoulder. “Excuse me,” she said, all out of breath.
When the woman turned around, the children all cried at once: “Sarah Deckle!”
Jessie spoke first. “Sarah, is that my backpack you’re holding? I left it on a bench so I could read a map. When I turned around, it was gone.”
“Why . . . why, yes, I took it. I . . . I mean I saw it lying there on the bench back there. I was going to see if there’s a Lost and Found office nearby. Here, take it.”
Jessie took the green backpack and slipped her arms into the shoulder straps. “Whew. That was careless of me. Thanks.”
Without even a “You’re welcome,” Sarah Deckle disappeared into the crowd.
“Boy, she didn’t seem too happy to give that back to you,” Henry said. “I mean, if she was going to the Lost and Found like she said, she should have been pleased you turned up so soon.”
“Maybe she wasn’t going to the Lost and Found,” Violet said. “Maybe she wasn’t going to give it back.”
“I’m just glad I found it,” Jessie said.
“Now can we eat at that good-smelling restaurant over there, Jessie?” Benny asked. “It says ‘Café.’ I know that means coffee, but I hope they have plain old chocolate milk, too.”
“It’s called Café du Monde, Benny,” Violet said, taking Benny by the hand. “It means ‘The People’s Café.’ ”
Benny pulled Violet. “Well, I’m a people, so let’s get going!”
The children found a table for four in the open-air café.
“I’ll get us some of those beignet doughnutsfor all of us, while you hold the table,” Henry said. “Can I get some money from your wallet, Jessie?”
Jessie took out her camera and handed Henry her backpack.
“I just love New Orleans,” Jessie said. “I’m going to try out the new instant camera Grandfather gave me for my birthday.”
Jessie stepped back and snapped a picture of Benny making a silly face while Violet giggled at him.
“The photo only takes a couple of minutes to develop,” Jessie said. “It’s almost ready.”
Jessie pulled hard, and a photo slid out of the camera. Everyone watched closely as a picture developed right before their eyes.
“Here I am! Here I am!” Benny said, excited to see himself appear as if by magic in the photo.
Sure enough, there was Benny’s silly face and Violet laughing at it.
“Fried beignets coming up!” Henry said a few minutes later when he returned with a tray of doughnuts.
Pretty soon the plate of beignets in front of the Aldens was a plate of crumbs.
“You’ll never guess who was in line with me,” Henry said when he had finished eating. “Sarah Deckle. She was right behind me.”
“It’s so crowded, I don’t see her anywhere, Henry,” Violet said. “Do you, Jessie?”
“Me neither,” Jessie said, turning her head this way and that. “I guess Sarah Deckle likes these special doughnuts too.”
The children left the café and went out to Jackson Square.
“Stand by that big statue of Andrew Jackson on his horse,” Jessie said. She arranged Henry and Violet on either side of Benny. Then she stepped back, trying to get everybody in the picture, including the huge bronze horse and its rider.
“Who’s Andrew Jackson?” Benny asked Henry as he tried to talk and smile at the same time.
“A war hero from a long time ago during the Battle of New Orleans,” Henry said.
“Got it!” Jessie said. She pulled out the instant photo and waited for it to develop.
A few minutes later, the picture was ready. “Oh, no!” Jessie laughed. “Look. I cut off the horse’s head and Andrew Jackson in the photo.”
“That’s okay,” Henry said to Jessie. “It takes a while to get used to a new camera. We have lots more places to see in New Orleans, so you’ll get plenty of practice with your picture taking.”
Ten pictures later, the Aldens collapsed in a little park overlooking the Mississippi River.
“Whew, sightseeing is a lot of work!” Henry said, stretching himself on a patch of green grass along with the other children.
“It sure is,” Jessie agreed. “I brought along a small Thermos of lemonade. We’ll share it.”
The children cooled off with small sips of lemonade while they watched all the riverboats arriving and departing on the river.
Jessie snapped her last picture of the busy scene.
“Can I see? Can I see?” Benny looked over Jessie’s shoulder as the instant picture developed.
“Here, I’ll spread out all the pictures we took,” Jessie said. She arranged the photos in rows on the grass so everyone could get a look.
Henry chuckled as he studied the pictures. “Gosh, Benny. You made a silly face in every single picture, even at that old New Orleans cemetery we visited!”
“I like making faces,” Benny said with a laugh. “Hey, there’s another face in every picture. But it’s not a silly one.”
The children leaned in to get a better look.
“It looks like Mr. Phillips!” Violet cried. “He’s in the picture Jessie took at the café. Then next to the horse statue. And here in the cemetery. Doesn’t that also look like him in this shot of the dock you just took?”
“You’re right, Violet,” Jessie said. “Let’s see if the person is still down there in case it is Mr. Phillips. Some of these pictures are a little blurry.”
The children raced down to the riverboat dock. But by the time they got there, the last boat had pulled away, taking with it all the people in Jessie’s photo. |