~ Charles de Lint
Chapter 12
Knight of Cups
Roland jumped to the sidewalk from the door of the bus, and stood for a moment drinking in the sights and smells of Frenchman Street. He had been on the road with The Green Man Band for six weeks. The Band had traveled from San Francisco through Arizona, New Mexico and Texas playing music at clubs and busking on city streets. This was their first trip to New Orleans and Roland was glad their stay was going to be longer than a couple of nights. Traveling with the band was great, but he was ready for softer company.
Trey hailed him from the door of Valentine’s Restaurant. “Come in, have some breakfast and meet Jason.”
Roland had been playing lead guitar in Trey’s band for a couple of years in San Francisco. This year they were fulfilling their dream of traveling across America, playing music and having fun. Trey had made arrangements to park their bus in a number of great spots around the country. This one in New Orleans was spectacular. The band agreed to play music for the lunch crowd and happy hour twice a week at Jason’s restaurant, Valentines. They played in exchange for parking their bus in Valentine’s parking lot across from the restaurant.
Roland sauntered into the restaurant as Trey was introducing the band to a tall man, with a long blond braid. Each band member reached out to shake hands with Jason and thank him for his generosity.
Jason nodded welcome and invited them to have some coffee and croissants while he told them a bit about the neighborhood of the Fabourg Marigny where their bus would be parked for the duration of their visit. “The Marigny is almost as old as the French Quarter,” Jason began. “It is the first area developed outside of the original city of New Orleans. Most tourists don’t venture into the Marigny. They don’t cross Esplanade Avenue which is the wide avenue at the end of the French Quarter. Hell, most tourist don’t see more than the first few blocks of Bourbon Street and maybe Jackson Square.
“Music clubs and restaurants have been popping up in the Marigny in recent years and the word is getting out. The mule drawn buggies have expanded their tours of the French Quarter to include parts of the Marigny. Fortunately, their route includes Frenchman Street. It is fine with me, good for business, but hell on traffic. Tourists are starting to return to the area to try some of the authentic creole food at Valentine’s. For the most part, you are among the locals in the Marigny and I hope you enjoy your stay.”
The members of the band smiled and nodded, eager to cross Esplanade Avenue and explore the French Quarter. By midmorning, the members of The Green Man Band had grabbed their instruments and headed towards Jackson Square, the heart of the French Quarter. As they crossed Esplanade Avenue, leaving Frenchman Street and the Fabourg Marigny behind, the scenery changed. They stepped into a city two hundred years older than the American cities they had visited on their musical tour.
The uneven brick sidewalks, called banquettes, led them past shops and restaurants with tall French doors and wrought iron gates leading to unseen lush courtyards. The band walked slowly, missing the sight of balconies overhead and historical buildings, as their eyes followed one beautiful Southern lady after another.
“I know I am going to love this city!” Trey exclaimed.
The rest of the band agreed with a resounding, “Yes!”
The ladies head’s turned too, as the musicians, brightly garbed in medieval attire, long hair flowing and instruments strapped to their backs, walked slowly towards Jackson Square.
The scent of frying beignets, chicory coffee, briny river water, mule dung, stale alcohol and old oyster shells mingled and filled the air. Roland labeled the unsavory blend, French Quarter “Par-fume.”
Turning the corner into Jackson Square, the miasma faded. A visual feast of green space filled with trees, and a splashing fountain, filled their senses. Three of the largest and most historic buildings in the French Quarter; Saint Louis Cathedral, the Cabildo and the Presbyter lined one end of the Square providing great acoustics.
The four musicians claimed a spot near the steps of the Cabildo. A crowd gathered as the music from The Green Man Band filled the square with ancient Celtic tunes tinted with mystical shades of magick.
~
Monday was Lilly’s day off from her duties at Panthea’s. She cleaned her apartment, did her laundry and walked to the A&P for groceries. After putting away her purchases, she paced around the apartment. She missed her flute. Before she married Alex, music had filled the empty spaces in her life. ‘I will find the perfect flute for me very soon,’ she vowed to herself.
Sun poured through her bedroom window with a tantalizing invitation to bask in the warmth of the day. Often, she needed to pinch herself to believe she was free to go wherever she wanted. Donning a wide brimmed hat, sunglasses and her mirrored-egg of protection, Lilly walked out onto Rue Saint Ann. The general flow of foot traffic moved towards Jackson Square. Lilly moved along with the locals and tourists. As she sauntered around the Square, she nodded to several of the artists she had befriended on her afternoon walks. Lilly smiled, glad they were getting busy as tourists arrived for the Carnival season.
As she approached the Cabildo, she saw a crowd gathered around some sort of act. Unique, fun and often mind-blowing acts were beginning to arrive in the Quarter. So far, she had seen a bear ride a bicycle and a man fold himself into a small plexiglass box.
She stood on her tip toes to see what the new attraction might be. The music began and Lilly stopped struggling for a view of the musicians. She stood very still listening to the music. It differed
