Elephant Gerald

What A Little Moonlight Will Do, Part I

“As my daddy says, ‘That’s a wrap!” said John Cole Crane.

“Great job, kids,” said Miss Kitty. “That sounded fantastic!”

“Good enough for a mango shake?” asked Elephant Gerald.

“Sure ‘nuf, baby!” replied Miss Kitty, getting the shakes ready behind the snack bar.

Elephant Gerald and the band were at Miss Kitty’s Playce, the old wooden music hall at the end of the Little Moon boardwalk where the Bayou River curved around in the shape of a crescent moon.  Miss Kitty owned the gathering space where jazz and blues musicians had played for many, many years. Gerald’s mama, Miss Ella, started her singing career there as a young lady, as well as John Cole Crane’s saxophone-playing daddy. Gerald and his krewe often got to practice at Miss Kitty’s and she treated them like they were her very own children.

“You know,” said Miss Kitty, “you kids are getting so good; I think you could play in the Mardi Gras parade next year.”

“Gee, you really think so Miss Kitty?” asked Django Rhinoceros after he swallowed his shake in one gulp.

“Sure as a skeeter bites, Django. Ya’ll are sounding mighty fine.”

Buddy Ostrich, the drummer in Gerald’s band, came up and sat on a stool. He tapped the end of his wings on the counter in rhythm to the blender that Miss Kitty was making his shake.

“Don’t you ever stop drumming, Buddy?” asked Billie Goat Holiday.

“Oh…was I drumming?” he asked. Buddy really didn’t ever stop drumming. He drummed on tables, the floor, on trees and bushes. And when there wasn’t anywhere to drum, he would drum on his tummy, all the while bopping his head and long, long neck up and down as if there was some imaginary music floating through his body. Miss Kitty carefully handed Buddy his mango shake in between beats, so he wouldn’t spill.

“When are we going to play our songs in front of a real audience, Miss Kitty?” asked Billie.

“I don’t know, sugar,” replied Miss Kitty. “Maybe we can invite all our friends some Saturday afternoon and have a little party.”

“My mama was telling me that in the old days they used to have full moon parties here,” said Gerald.

“My daddy told me that too,” said John Cole Crane. “He said that whenever there was a full moon on a Saturday night they would have a big ol’ party here. Even the kids got to stay up late and go to it.”

“That’s right, boys,” said Miss Kitty. “All the great musicians used to come and jam. We’d have a great ol’ time. I think when all those musicians left for bigger and better things in New Orleans, the full moon parties just stopped. Such a shame, that is.”

“You mean even the kids came out?” asked Billie nervously. “At night? When it was dark and all?”

“Of course, baby, they’d be here with their mamas and daddies. It was night, but we lit up the place like it was the 4^th of July!”

“Well m-m-m-my mama would never let me out after dark...baaaaa,” Billy bleated nervously.

“But your mama and daddy could come out and hear you play,” said Django kindly. “I’m sure they’d love to hear you sing on stage. Nothin’ to be afraid of…”

“I ain’t afraid of nothin’ Django!” snapped Billie. “It’s just not proper for a fine young lady like me to be out after dark.”

“Oh pshaw, Billie,” said Gerald. “I think we should do it, Miss Kitty. When’s the next full moon?”

Miss Kitty looked at the big calendar hanging on the wall with a picture of Crab Calloway leading his famous jazz orchestra at a New Orleans theater. He was standing on a stool with one claw holding a baton. Three rows of rostrums stood in front of his 17-piece band, and the kids liked to imagine it was them playing in front of a big audience.

“It shows here that tonight is a new moon and the full moon is in two weeks,” said Miss Kitty. “Well that would be a Saturday…”

“A new moon,” said John. “Well I didn’t know we got a new moon every month. Where do the old ones go?”

“No silly,” said Buddy. “A new moon just means the earth is in between the sun and the moon. The earth casts a shadow on the moon, so we don’t see it.”

Where Gerald was a problem-solver kind of smart, Buddy was the smartest of anyone in a book-smart sort of way. He remembered every musical note in every song he ever heard, and any little fact that anyone ever told him. Sometimes he was even a little stuck-uppity about how clever he was, but normally he didn’t boast too much.

“That’s right,” said Miss Kitty. “The moon is still there but it’s black as licorice without the sun shining on it.”

John was scratching his head with one wing and making circles with his other wing in the air, trying to figure out what exactly Buddy meant by the Earth being between the sun and moon. He decided it was all too confusing for him and sucked loudly on his straw to get the last bit of mango smoothie out of his glass.

“Whadda’ ya’ mean black as licorice?” said Billie, once again getting all nervous. She didn’t want anyone to know she was so afraid of the dark, but she was just imagining the whole world outside being like a big, dark, heavy piece of licorice with no light around.

“Oh, not that dark, really,” said Miss Kitty. “The stars light up like fireflies on a hot June night during a new moon. Nothin’ to be afraid of at night, Billie.”

“Oooooohhhhh, everyone stop sayin’ I’m afraid of the dark,” yelled Billie. “I ain’t scared of no witch doctors, or voodoo dolls, or vampires comin’ out at night.”

“Now, now, there’s none of those around here, Billie,” said Miss Kitty. “Don’t you go worrying about things that don’t exist.”

“Yeah,” said Gerald. “And just in case there are, I put my lucky pouch on to scare any ol’ ghost away.”

“G-g-ghost?” said Billie.

“And the fuller the moon,” said Django, “the brighter it is to scare any ghouls away.”

“Baaaa-aaaa,” Billie bleated nervously.

“That’s right,” said Gerald. “The full moon just hypnotizes you into a trance, it’s so beautiful.”

“A t-t-trance? Hypnotize?” said Billie.

“Miss Kitty’s right, don’t be listening to their fool ideas,” said Buddy. “The moon is like a friend, walking along with you at night. And each night it changes.”

“Changes like what?” asked Billie.

“You watch it over the next couple weeks, Billie,” said Miss Kitty. “It’s going to grow from a tiny little crescent ‘c’ into a big bright ‘o’ and spread her light to the world.”

“So can we do it, Miss Kitty?” asked Gerald. “Can we have a full moon party here in two weeks?”

“Well…I suppose…if your mamas and daddies say it’s okay. And Miss Billie, you need to check with your mama, to see if she can accompany a proper young lady like you at night.”

Billie blushed at the compliment. Aside from her own mama and Miss Ella, Miss Kitty was her best grown-up friend. She wished she could tell her she really was afraid of the dark, but thought Miss Kitty would think her terribly childish.

“Yes ma’am. I’ll ask her.” Then Billie turned to Gerald. “I’ll practice with you, but I’m not promising you my mama is going to let me come out at night.” She secretly told herself that she wouldn’t even tell her mother. She would rather miss singing in front of all those people than risk going out in the dark with ghouls and ghosts…no matter how bright the moon was.

“So you really mean it, Miss Kitty?” asked Gerald.

“I’ll put it on the calendar and make some signs for the door,” said Miss Kitty. “Ya’ll better practice because it just might be a full house.”

“Aaaaarrrrruuuugghaaaaa!” Gerald was so excited he let his horn blow high up in the air.

Django made a congratulatory slap on John and Buddy’s backs harder than he meant to and they both lurched forward with feathers flying like scattered dust. Luckily Django caught them both before they hit the floor and they all laughed.

Everyone was so excited they didn’t even notice Billie with a little tear in her eye, mad at herself for being so afraid of the dark that she was going to miss singing in front of a real audience.