"That's Where Your Mojo Is" - Part I

Welcome to the first installment of many Elephant Gerald stories! In Part 1 of the first story, "That's Where Your Mojo Is," Elephant Gerald meets John Cole Crane for the first time. Come back each Sunday for the next chapters and new tales of Gerald and his quirky 'krewe' of jazz and blues playing friends.

MISS ELLA’S neatly trimmed home sat on the edge of the Louisiana bayou. The morning was hot and sunny, with only the sound of cicadas cutting through the thick air. Even the old live oak trees were limp and lifeless.  The door creaked as Elephant Gerald, Miss Ella’s young son, was walking out.

“Where you think you’re going, child?” Miss Ella yelled from the piano room.

“I told you, I’m meeting Django and Billie for rehearsal, Mama!”

“And where’s my sugar?”

Gerald’s big cheeks turned red. He walked back and kissed his mama with his unusually long trumpet-shaped trunk.  The big bell at the end covered her whole cheek and made a loud smack when he pulled away. 

“Sorry Mama.” Gerald said, embarrassed. “Now can I go?”

Miss Ella filled with pride, “You have a wonderful day. Work on those high notes, baby.”

“I will Mama.”

Elephant Gerald stepped out of his house and stood on the stoop. He breathed deep and sighed.

“AAAAAHHH! It’s a great day to play.”

Gerald ambled down the road toward a grove of old cypress trees covered in Spanish moss, kicking up the dry dirt behind him.  Suddenly Gerald felt a big plop of water on his head and heard a wild sound of whooping and squawking.

“Squawwwwwwwwwwk, where y’at mojo?”

Gerald looked way up into the sky and saw a wild crane, dipping and spinning out of control. The crane was holding a cloth from his feet, with something shiny sticking out the end. He was swooping haphazardly, with one wing flapping about and the other scratching his head as if searching for something. His eyes were wide and wild.

“Ooooooohhhh, I lost it! Where could it be?”

The crane just couldn’t fly with one wing. He somersaulted through the air, the weight in the cloth spinning him uncontrollably. 

“Flap, birdie, flap,” Gerald yelled as he ran this way and that waving his chubby arms. He rubbed his lucky pouch hoping the luck would rise up to the bird. “Fly! Fly! Fly!”

Just before the crane hit the ground Gerald dove forward onto his stomach and extended his nose to catch the bird in the bell of his trunk! The crane was folded in half; butt first in Gerald’s horn, with his long skinny legs sticking straight up in front of his face. A saxophone thumped on his head. Then a tattered white cloth floated down like a leaf, covering his face. 

 

“Am I in heaven?” squawked the blinded bird.

Gerald’s big green eyes grew even larger. He gave a tiny snort from his trunk and the cloth poofed off of the bird’s head. The crane looked down the trunk straight into Gerald’s eyes.

“I’m in AFRICA?”  

“You’re not in heaven or Africa,” Gerald replied. “You’re in the bayou.”

“What’s an elephant doin’ in the bayou?”

“What’s a bird doin’ falling from the sky?”

“Well I shoulda’ been flyin’ but that sure was some catch. You a baseball player or something?” the crane asked.

“Oh no, I tried playing baseball once but the ball kept getting stuck up my nose,” Gerald said. “Everybody laughed at me. I just stick to playing my horn now.”

“Well, brotha’, can you let me outta’ your big trunk?”

Gerald stared at the wild crane for a moment, then puffed up and blew his trunk. The crane didn’t budge. He took a BIG breath, his cheeks turned red, his eyes crossed, and with a big bellowing note ARRUUUUUGGGGAAA, the bird shot out of Gerald’s trunk like a rocket.

The crane landed head first onto the ground. He stood up awkwardly with a dizzy head and a bent beak.

“Now that is what I call one hip down beat,” the crane said.

“Or maybe more like a downed beak?” Gerald laughed as he stood up.

“So you’re a musician like me?” the crane asked as he straightened out his long bill.

Gerald nodded his head. “My name’s Elephant Gerald. Mostly I go by Gerald. What’s your name?”

“John Cole Crane, but you can call me John. Where’s your horn, brotha’?”

“What do you mean?’ Gerald laughed. “You just got stuck in it!”

Gerald lifted his trunk up with his two arms. He stretched it out in front of him and took a deep breath. He squinted his eyes, puffed his cheeks, and blew a few jazzy riffs.

“Oooooooweeee! I ain’t ever heard nothing like that before.”

“Yep, I was just born with it. My mama says I am most extrapa…extroda…extrana… ohhh, that I’m just special.”

“Well whatever you are Gerald, that trunk is pretty cool. I play the saxophone,” John said looking sadly at his sax. ”Well I used to, anyway.”

 “Used to?”

“Sounds crazy, but I woke up this mornin’ and I don’t know. I just couldn’t play! I was hittin’ bad notes, off pitch, squeekin’ and squawkin’. Just flat, man!” John Cole Crane looked at Gerald with a tear in his eye.

 “You fall outta’ your nest or something?” Gerald asked.

“Well I WAS pretty excited last night. My daddy told me he was gonna’ let me play this weekend with some other jazz playing kids.”

“That’s great!”

“But this mornin’ when he heard how awful I was playin’, you know what he said?”

Gerald’s eyes were wide with wonder, “No, what?”

John Cole Crane lowered his head, and his tear hit the dry dirt. “Right when he was flyin’ off to work he says, ‘Son, looks like you done lost your mojo.’”

Gerald looked blankly at John. Suddenly he put his big arm around John’s feathered wings.

“Your mojo? Hmmmm, sounds like something I need to help you find! Come on with me.”

John picked up his saxophone, put it in the old white cloth, and slung it over his back. As they walked down the dirt path, Gerald lifted his trunk and started playing a jazzy tune. John hopped in time to the music with the sax swinging behind him. The top of the sax swung right into Gerald’s behind. Gerald stopped abruptly and swung around.

“Johnny bird? Do mojos have teeth?”

“I don’t know, I reckon so. Probably big ones. Why?” John spun around to see what Gerald was looking at and the saxophone hit Gerald in the behind again.

“Your mojo’s hiding around here somewhere! I think it just bit me on the butt!”

To be continued...