The Mardi Gras Chase (True Girls Book 1) Read online

  The Mardi Gras Chase

  By Maggie M. Larche

  Leopold Press

  Copyright © 2015 Maggie M. Larche

  Cover illustration by Maha Khatib

  Chapter 1

  The downtown street exploded in color, with bright greens, reds, and purples sparkling under tinsel and glitter. Jazz music and drumlines competed with the yelling spectators to vibrate the air with sound. Cheap treasures rained down on the crowds, and coins sparkled as they clattered onto the pavement. It was wonderful, tumultuous chaos. And Melanie Smythurst was bored.

  “Ugh,” she said. “Let’s go, guys. Please.”

  “Don’t be such a grump,” said her friend Kate Butler. “This is a great parade.” She jumped with perfect timing and snagged a handful of purple beads out of the air. “Got it!”

  “Seriously,” said Faye Ryan. “You are being a downer, Mel.” Faye frowned as Kate stuffed the beads into the pillowcase she carried. “And this parade would be perfect if Kate would stop hogging the throws. I’ve got to stop standing beside you. You are just too tall.” She lifted her own limp pillowcase and compared it to Kate’s, already half full. “This is pathetic.”

  “I’ll buy you both a pile of beads if we head home now,” said Melanie. Her red hair glowed from the spotlights of the passing float. “Loads of them. I promise.”

  “Nope,” said Kate. “It’s not the same. They have to be earned.”

  The girls were watching one of the many Mardi Gras parades in Mobile, Alabama. Lasting several weeks, Mobile’s Mardi Gras was something most kids would envy – nightly parades, dazzling floats, free treats, days off from school, and the promise of balls to attend once they were older. It was a season of celebration for the city’s residents.

  “Besides,” said Kate, “you know why we have to stay.”

  “Community pride,” said Faye, keeping her eyes on the parade.

  “Booty-dancing bands,” said Kate.

  Melanie crossed her arms. “Crowds and smells and –”

  “Moon pies!” Kate interrupted as she caught one from the air. “Thank you!” she yelled to the masked marshal riding on horseback.

  Melanie sighed and reached over Kate’s shoulder. She plucked the sweet from her hand. “Ok, fine. I might stay for the moon pies.” She peeled open the wrapper and took a bite.

  “Mmm, peanut butter,” she said with her mouth full.

  “Gross,” said Faye, while Kate just laughed.

  “Well, look alive girls,” said Melanie, stepping back again. “If we’re staying, you might as well catch me some snacks.”

  Kate and Faye took positions on the barricade and prepared for the next round of throws.

  “Come on,” Kate said over her shoulder to Melanie, but Melanie wasn’t listening.

  Every float in the parade was preceded by a sign carrier, someone who walked on foot and displayed a placard that announced the theme of the upcoming float. The sign carrier for the float about to pass the girls was a hunched old man whose sign read, “Under the Sea.” In spite of his age, the man strutted along with a grin on his face, bopping his head to the lively cadence blasting from a nearby marching band. The sign was tilted back on his shoulder.

  “Look at the title,” said Melanie, pointing to the man’s sign. “The R in ‘Under’ is upside-down.”

  “What?” said Kate.

  “I said, ” Melanie broke off and raised her voice to be heard over the yells now coming from the crowd. “Look at the title.”

  “Whoohoo!” yelled Kate. She waved her hands in the air as the float passed.

  The opulent structure was decorated with clownfish, mermaids, and the occasional octopus. Masked men wearing blue satin costumes stood among artificial waves cresting over their heads, throwing to the crowd below. One rider took a liking to Faye and Kate and showered them with beads and silk roses. The crowd pressed in on all sides to grab the throws that fell to the ground. They picked the ground clean in under five seconds.

  After the float moved on, Kate turned again to Melanie.

  “Sorry, Mel, what did you say?”

  “Never mind,” said Melanie. “I just noticed that one of the letters was upside-down on the sign for the float.”

  “That’s weird,” said Faye. “Shouldn’t they catch that sort of thing beforehand?”

  “Sounds to me,” said Kate, “like the float builders started the party a little early, you know what I mean?”

  Melanie took another bite of moon pie. A few new spectators arrived and sidled next to the girls. It was a family of five. The father carried the littlest boy wrapped up against the cold in a fleece bodysuit shaped like a bear. Melanie guessed him to be about two.

  “Good luck catching anything now,” she whispered to Faye and Kate. “We’ve got a baby.”

  “Darn it,” said Kate quietly, glancing back over her shoulder. “Cute babies get all the throws.”

  “Ha,” said Faye, the lights reflecting off her dark skin. “Now you can live like me and Mel for a while.”

  Melanie laughed and stepped back, enjoying her snack and the starry night filled with music. Though she wasn’t crazy about Mardi Gras, she did enjoy a cold winter evening, an all-too-rare occurrence in Mobile.

  She sighed and turned her attention back to the parade.

  “Look,” she said, pointing. “There’s another one.”

  The sign for the next float came along, and right in the middle of the title – “Off to the Races” – was a backwards C.

  “That’s so strange,” said Faye. “Maybe it’s on purpose.”

  For the rest of the parade, Melanie searched for strange letters. The next sign was free from anything unusual, but the float itself hid a backwards E amongst the decorations.

  She pulled out her phone and began documenting each letter she saw.

  “What are you doing?” asked Kate.

  Melanie looked up. “I’m writing the letters down. What if it’s a sort of message? Like when movie credits spell out something for the audience who stays to the very end.”

  “I wouldn’t think you’d care about a message if it came from Mardi Gras,” said Faye.

  “Well, it probably does say something stupid, like ‘Come to Walmart for all your Mardi Gras needs,’” said Melanie. “But what else do I have to do?” But by the end of the parade, all Melanie had to show to Faye and Kate was a string of nonsensical letters.

  “R, C, E, N, R, A, P,” read Kate. She nodded seriously. “Ah, yes, now it is all clear.”

  Faye laughed.

  “Ok, so that was a waste,” said Melanie. She locked her phone and dropped it into her pocket. “Even the Walmart ad would have been more interesting.”

  “You should have tried to catch stuff,” said Kate. She lifted her pillowcase, now overflowing with beads of all colors. A little purple teddy bear stuck its head out of the top.

  “Pretty good, huh?” She paused waiting for a reply. Rather than answering, Melanie and Faye just stared over her shoulder.

  “What?” Kate asked, and Faye silently pointed behind her with a grin.

  Kate turned to see the little boy in the fleece bear suit looking down from his perch on his father’s shoulders. His father chatted with the rest of the family while the child gazed longingly at Kate’s teddy bear.

  “Oh, ok,” Kate said, rolling her eyes. “Here you go.” She handed the bear to the boy, who let out a shriek of delight.

  Kate turned back to her friends. “Let’s get out of here before I get hit up by more kids.”

  The bike ride back to their houses was eventful, what with the full bag that Kate had to carry somehow as she rode. Her bike lurc
hed from side to side like a sleepy camel, and the girls were obliged to stop several times so Kate could reposition the bag of throws. By the time they made it to their street, they were all giggling uncontrollably.

  “See you guys tomorrow,” shouted Melanie, laughing as she pedaled slightly farther down the street from her two friends.

  “Meet at my house,” Faye’s voice followed her.

  Melanie waved her hand over her head to show she heard before coasting into her driveway. The house shined brightly in the night. Her stomach rumbled as she threw her bike into the garage and headed inside.

  “Hey, sweetie,” said her mother as Melanie walked into the kitchen. Mrs. Smythurst was a short, pleasant woman with vivid red hair. “How was the parade?”

  Melanie shrugged and snatched a cherry tomato from a large salad bowl that her mother was clearing from the table. “Fine, I guess,” she said, popping it into her mouth. “We had fun and all, but, you know… Same old, same old.”

  Her mom gave an understanding smile. “Were the floats any good?”

  Melanie shrugged again. “Not bad. Kate caught a lot of stuff.”

  “That girl always does,” said her mother with a laugh. She looked at Melanie’s empty hands. “You didn’t catch anything?”

  Melanie shook her head. “What’s the point? It’s all just junk.”

  “Sweetie, if you don’t enjoy the parade, why do you go?”

  “I don’t know. Habit?”

  “Well, I know that feeling. Here, help yourself to spaghetti. Your dad’s already putting Lacey to bed.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Melanie loaded up a plate with food and headed down the hall to her bedroom.

  She sat down at her desk with her plate. She toyed with the noodles, lost in thought. She knew she’d fill the evening the way she always did. Lose herself in a book for a little while. Do the dishes. Get ready for bed. Rinse. Repeat.

  Looking back, Melanie tried to pinpoint the moment when all this grey sameness took over her life, but couldn’t. It snuck up on her, until one day, life didn’t feel very exciting anymore.

  At bedtime, Melanie committed one small act of rebellion against her dreary day-to-day routine. She skipped brushing her teeth before slipping into bed.

  She relaxed into her mattress and ran her tongue over her fuzzy teeth. It was only a small gesture, but it was a step.

  Two hours later, Melanie lay in bed, still unable to fall asleep. Feeling guilty over her uncompleted nightly routine, she finally pulled her phone off her bedside table to distract herself.

  As the phone turned on, the light momentarily blinded her night-adjusted eyes. Squinting, she opened her note from earlier that evening.

  “R, C, E, N, R, A, P.”

  Maybe it meant absolutely nothing. It probably meant absolutely nothing. But she couldn’t help wondering.

  “They might have hired a dyslexic painter,” she said aloud. One of the boys in her class had dyslexia, and she knew he sometimes had trouble seeing the difference between “b” and “d” because he reversed the letters in his mind. But surely it wasn’t the same person who both painted the signs and decorated the floats, was it?

  “I’ll just check one more thing,” she muttered, “and then I am going to sleep. Hear that, world?” She spoke towards the ceiling. “I am going to sleep.”

  She pulled up the internet as she mentally reviewed what she knew about Mardi Gras. As the oldest Mardi Gras celebration in the country, Mobile’s festivities were elaborate. Dozens of carnival organizations operated in the city, and many of them put on a parade sometime during the season. The groups used mystical names like Daughters of Time, the Hidden Branch, and Knights of Ra. Each one had its own floats, parade, ball, and unique style.

  Melanie knew that the later you progressed in the season, the more parades, until finally, you reached Fat Tuesday, when the entire city slacked off work and spent the day celebrating.

  That evening, Melanie and her friends had attended the parade by an organization called the Order of the Centaur, but other groups had already paraded that season.

  Acting on some unnamed hunch, Melanie pulled up a parade schedule and searched for photos of the parade that ran the day before: Ancient Aztecs.

  “No. No. No,” she said as she clicked through the pictures. “Ah ha!”

  She stopped and stared at one picture – a sign carrier in the Aztecs parade. The sign read “Jumpin’ Jack Flash.”

  “Backwards F,” whispered Melanie to herself. “Gotcha.”

  Quickly, she searched for any online pictures she could find of all the previous parades. Even though five parades had already rolled that year, she couldn’t find any other pictures of strange letters.

  So at least two parades included the mysterious letters among the floats: the Centaurs and the Aztecs. And there were possibly more that weren’t pictured. What did it mean? What tied them together?

  “Whatever it is,” said Melanie out loud to herself, “I’m going to figure it out.”

  She put her phone down and snuggled back under her covers. She didn’t know what it all meant. She only knew that, finally, here was something different. And for now, maybe that was enough.

  Chapter 2

  After breakfast on Saturday morning, Melanie pulled her hair back into a long ponytail down her back. When she turned twelve the previous month, she adopted the look as her signature hairstyle. Just having a signature hairstyle made her feel very sophisticated.

  She pulled on her tennis shoes and laced them up as her younger sister popped her head in the door.

  Even Melanie had to admit that Lacey was adorable. Only three years old, Lacey sported classic dimples and a blond bob haircut that tended to float around her head like a halo. Kate had previously considered using her at the parade as bait for more throws, but the girls scrapped that idea when they realized it would mean Melanie’s parents would probably come, too.

  “Hey,” said Lacey, wandering into the room. “Whatcha doing? Are you leaving?”

  “Yep. Sorry, Bug. I’m heading to Faye’s.”

  “Can I go with you? I like Faye. She won’t mind.”

  “Not today,” said Melanie. “Why don’t you go find Mom or Dad? They’ll play with you.”

  “That’s not fun,” said Lacey. She wandered around Melanie’s room and picked up a hairbrush from Melanie’s dresser. She stood on her tiptoes to peer into the mirror. When she tried to brush her own hair, it simply made her hair stand even higher than it had moments before.

  Melanie finished tying her sneakers and stood up briskly. She removed the brush from Lacey’s hand and replaced it on the dresser. Then she scooted Lacey out the door in front of her, pulling the door closed behind her.

  “Ok, now stay out of my room while I’m gone.”

  “But Mel,” said Lacey.

  “See ya!” Melanie ran down the hall, shouting “Mom, Dad, I’m out. Lacey’s looking for you.” She ran out the front door and down the street.

  She quickly covered the three houses between hers and Faye’s and knocked on the door loudly. Experience had taught her that Faye practiced her violin every Saturday morning, so she banged her fist to be heard above the music.

  “Good morning, Melanie,” said Faye’s mother, a willowy woman with chocolaty skin. “She’s upstairs. Just follow the racket.” She flushed. “Music. I mean music.”

  Melanie hid her grin. “Thanks, Mrs. Ryan.” Melanie headed up the stairs and walked straight into Faye’s bedroom.

  Faye stood in the middle of the room in front of a folding metal music stand. She was cranking out an unrecognizable piece of music on her violin. Melanie cringed.

  “Oh, thank the Lord,” said Faye, dropping the violin from her shoulder. “Now that you’re here, I’ve got a good excuse to stop practicing.”

  “Rough way to start every weekend, hmm?” asked Melanie, plopping onto Faye’s bed.

  “You’re telling me,” said Faye, placing her instrument into its case. “The fun
ny thing is, everyone knows I’m awful. Dad always finds an excuse to do yard work when I start up. And mom’s always got a headache by the time I’m done.” Faye sighed and slid the instrument and music stand below her bed. “But she keeps on insisting that it’s going to look great on college applications, so I keep on playing.”

  “We’ve got years and years until then,” said Melanie. “That’s a long time to do something you hate.”

  “Tell that to my mom.”

  “Let the constant violin music wear her down. She’ll crack eventually,” said Melanie. “When’s Kate getting here?”

  “I dunno. Soon, I think. She said last night that she’d be over early.” Kate’s house was located just across the street from Faye’s.

  “Good,” said Melanie, sitting up. Her eyes shone as she leaned forward. “Because I’ve got something to talk to you two about.”

  “Ooh,” said Faye. “What is it?”

  “Wait for Kate,” said Melanie. “Besides, I think I hear her.”

  A distant pounding noise grew louder as someone bounded up the stairs, and the door flung open to reveal their friend.

  “Hey, guys,” Kate said and flopped onto the floor. She shook out her hair, still wet. “I was so glad to get out of my house this morning.”

  Faye laughed. “Trouble with the munchkins?”

  “Yep,” said Kate. “Little brothers two through four.” Kate was one of six siblings and the only girl. She and her twin brother Matt were the oldest, and both of them consistently referred to the younger boys by their birth order, rather than name. With four younger siblings in the house, they maintained that it was easier to refer to them by number.

  “First,” continued Kate, stretching out her legs in front of her, “number four decided to build a catapult out of tinker toys. Then, boys two and three loaded that catapult with the blueberry oatmeal Mom made for breakfast.”

  Faye and Melanie groaned. Kate nodded.

  “Uh huh. It was chaos. Absolute chaos. Mom and Dad were yelling. Boys were running and hiding. I had oatmeal in my hair and had to rewash it. And everywhere,” she continued over Melanie and Faye’s laughter, “there were these blobs of blueberry goo. The whole kitchen’s blue. It’s disgusting.”