On Archimedes Street (42 page)

Terri was delighted. Time to stir things up. “Escalonia, I believe you’re in the forefront of the green movement here in Louisiana. And Elwood, I hear you’re an accomplished pianist. Tell me more about that. But first let’s roll some tapes.”

There was Elwood doing the “You slime’ my okra” thing. And there was Gaia, setting up the recycling bins with a beaming Lotte giving her benediction.

In the viewing room, Ed and Gaia withdrew their heads from their hands and looked up hopefully.

“Yes. Forgot to say dat I green. Keepin’ the ‘green’ in greengrocer since 1937,” Lotte announced proudly. “Bin puttin’ Christmas trees what people t’row on the coib into the bayou….”

Gaia sank her head back into her hands.

“An’ makin’ people pay for bags, to save the trees. An’ dere’s climate change, of course. I ain’t using no carbon in my bid’ness.”

Gaia moaned.

“How you savin’ trees if you t’rowin’ dem in the bayou? Dat don’t make no sense.”

Lotte gave Elwood a look of great pity and clucked at him.

This enraged Elwood. “Don’t be cluckin’ at me, you ol’ cheat! You bin cheatin’ people all dese years! Shortchangin’ dem and den puttin’ it in the Mother Cabrini jar!”

Once again, Terri knew when to hold her tongue.

“Have you bin drinkin’? You mus’ be high on somethin’, Elwood.”

“I, drunk? Nebber touch more dan a drop!”

Lotte rolled her eyes indulgently at the camera and brought a finger to the side of her nose, as if sharing a little secret with the viewers.

“Mus’ be you, LaNasa, who drunk, jes’ like your uncle! Die of the psoriasis of the libber!”

“He your uncle too!”

“Yeah, but I nebber like the ol’ coot.”

“An’ you iggerant,” Lotte persisted. “Psoriasis a skin thing. He die,” she proclaimed triumphantly, “of the scoliosis of the libber!”

“Who you callin’ iggerant, you ol’ bat?”

As the camera pulled back, they glared at each other.

Pure gold
, thought Terri.
Pure gold.

“And that’s ‘Around the Town,’” she wrapped up. “Until tomorrow, and thanks for tuning in.” She was ecstatic. A few more like these, and she would get a shot at national. She would make sure to have someone post a clip of Elwood and Lotte on YouTube. They had the potential for going viral. And the pros would notice how expertly she had managed it.

L
OTTE
HAD
taken to her bed. She hadn’t been this low since Raymond died. Who knew there was such a thing as YouTube? That little devil Dominic had navigated to the clip with glee and played it for her with evident enjoyment and malice on his face. She hated and despised that Dominic. Over thirty thousand people had laughed at her—hits, they called them—and that was as of two days ago. She was a laughingstock. She didn’t want to know how many hits there were now.

There was a pounding at the door. She wasn’t about to answer. But whoever it was, was insistent. Maybe there was a crisis downstairs Armida couldn’t handle. She got up reluctantly to open the door.

“You! You
got
some noive showin’ your iggerant face in here.” She spat between two fingers, warding off evil. “You the cause of alla dis! I coise the day you born!”

“Nebber mine alla dat! We famous, LaNasa! We go viral! We gotta rehoise!”

“Rehoise? Rehoise for what? My reputation ruint! ’Cuzza you!”

“Why, rehoise for our nex’ gig on ‘All Aroun’ the Town,’ natural. Dey sure to ax us back. We money in the bank for dem. An’ dey money in the bank for us.”

Armida had clocked Elwood going up the stairs, and she closed her register to see whether he had any success rousing Lotte. The store was jammed, and they were pushed to the breaking point. They’d almost exhausted their stock of Italian beef, and the checkout lines were kilometric. It was too much to handle without Lotte’s efficient oversight.

“Meez Lotte.” She poked her head in the door. “So many customers. Please. We need
ayuda
.”

“Whadda I tell you? You be poachin’ tongue ’til the cows come home.”

Lotte ignored him pointedly. “It true?” she asked Armida.

“A run on the store, Meez Lotte. And Meez Gaia—so many
botellas y periódicos
. She berry happy.”

Lotte bustled into her apron and shucked her slippers for her low heels. She’d learned her lesson about wearing high heels during working hours in that nearly calamitous foray into the Abbotts’s shotgun. “Get outta my way, Elwood.”

“We gotta fine bad t’ings to say ’bout each udder, rehoise.”

“Well,
dat
won’t be hawd.”

She left him in her wake as she clambered downstairs, with Armida close on her heels.

“An’ try for somethin’ like ‘psoriasis’ an’ ‘scoliosis’ again,” he called after her. “Dat a big hit.”

“An’ I know all ’bout you an’ Manny,” she shot back. “Two growed men! It shameful! Poor Dominic,” she said, hypocritically. Dominic was number one on her shit list.
Little smart mouth YouTube dirt-ball deserved everything that was coming to him.

“You don’t fine it so shameful for the Abbotts, dough, ain’t dat true? You like thinkin’ of dem doin’ it, doncha?”

Lotte didn’t even hear him. Or, at least, tried not to hear him. The store was so hot, it was on fire.

Epilogue

“C
ELESTIN
DID
a beautiful job,” said Rita as she looked over the bathroom in the now-empty half of her shotgun double. She and Honoria took in the polished planks on the floor, the Dutch-sized tub, and the French fixtures in the bathroom that Achille Abbott had provided with a flip of his fingers, courtesy of his contractor, Celestin. All so that Dutch would agree to be exiled to the hinterlands of Gretna.

“You can’t hope for that again—I mean, you can’t hope for someone like Achille Abbott to redo your bathroom for free. You owe me, Rita,” said Honoria.

“Miz Rita! You ain’t forgettin’ dem petit-fours you promise’ for the Bible Study class tonight?” Doodie interrupted the women. He knew that Miz Rita would not join the Bible Study class. But she had not yet failed to provide the refreshments. The petit-fours were a big hit with the Mount Calvary crowd.

“Yes, Doodie. Have I ever let you down?”

“No, Miz Rita.”

He could forgive her absence at the Bible Study class readily when he knew what would follow. They were on a two-week schedule, and tonight was the night for the Cialis to kick in.

“You nut-comer!” Rita told him every second week as she grabbed his balls.

“Miz Rita, ain’t decent!” Doodie always replied. But in truth, he no longer cared whether it was decent. He loved having his balls manipulated as he shot backward.

“Go along, Doodie. Honoria and I have to talk woman talk.”

Doodie certainly didn’t want to hear that. “Yes, Miz Rita.” He made a hasty exit.

They waited until his back was no longer showing. “I miss Flip and Dutch,” said Rita. “I learned so much from them.”

“Oh, stop living in the past,” snapped Honoria. “They’re living happily ever after at LSU Medical School. Time to move on! You need to fill that empty half of your shotgun double.”

“Any prospects?”

“Rita, it’s too early. No one has registered yet. But….”

“Yes?”

“Exchange students! All desperate for a place to live!”

“Exchange students?” Rita was intrigued.

“I have their pictures right here.”

“Sluttina! Show!”

“Well, first, there’s this long column of deliciosity from the north of China,” Honoria drawled.

“Ooh. He looks tall!”

“Eighteen feet at least. Named ‘Hui.’ Don’t know whether it’s pronounced ‘Huey’ or ‘Whee.’”

“And he will be partnered with….”

Honoria was jubilant. “Bavaria! China and Bavaria! Isn’t it brilliant?”

“Let’s see the picture.”

Honoria thrust it at her. “Blue-eyed blond!”

“Ooh. Cute!” But Rita had her reservations. “You know those Bavarian boys run to fat after they turn eighteen. All that spätzle and obatzda. Not to mention those desserts!”

“Yes. Bavarian creams. A chocolate Bavarian cream!” Honoria loved chocolate.

“Honoria, you should know by now that the only Bavarian cream worth making is not chocolate but orange.”

“Well, I don’t agree—”

Rita protested, “Don’t agree! Julia Child said so! Have you even
ever
made a Bavarian cream?”

Honoria seemed lost in thought. “Well, I may have made a Bavarian cream. In my early years, perhaps. But in my day, it was considered bad form to ask their nationality.”

“Hmmph!” said Rita.

Some Receipts

Say-Say’s Coconut Cake

• 3 cups cake flour
  
• 1 tsp baking powder
  
• ½ tsp baking soda
  
• Pinch of salt
  
• 2 cups granulated sugar
  
• 2 sticks of unsalted butter
  
• 1 cup canned sweetened cream of coconut milk
  
• ¼ cup fresh coconut milk
  
• 1 cup buttermilk
  
• 5 large eggs, separated
  
• ½ tsp almond extract
  
• Cream cheese icing
  
• Toasted coconut flakes for garnish (optional)
  

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and butter and flour two nine-inch cake pans. Blend flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Cream the butter and sugar, and whip in cream of coconut milk until fluffy. Then beat in yolks one at a time, then the almond extract. Beat in dry ingredients and then the fresh coconut milk and buttermilk, just until incorporated.

Beat egg whites and fold into batter, being careful not to deflate. Divide batter among pans and bake for about forty-five minutes before testing with toothpick. Cool and loosen cakes and invert onto racks. Frost with icing and garnish with toasted coconut flakes if desired.

For the icing: Cream 16 ounces of cream cheese along with a ½ cup of butter and a teaspoon of vanilla extract. Gradually sift in 2 cups of confectioner’s sugar.

[Editor’s note: We have reproduced this recipe faithfully, but, upon kitchen-testing it, we didn’t find the results successful.]

Elwood’s Eggs and Rice

Put plenty water on to berl. Put salt in dere. When it rollin’ good, t’row in a thoid of a cuppa rice an’ berl for ’bout elebben minute. Strain in a colander over the zinc, an’ put over a pot wit’ a little water to steam. Covah.

In the meantime, fry up the eggs, sunny-side up. Cut into the rice wit’ two knives to make like a sauce.

Good for when you feelin’ low an’ got the zin-zin.

Italian Beef LaNasa

Nebber use no small tongue, no. Scrub an’ wrench the tongue in t’ree waters, den put in a big pot on the stove wit’ water to covah. When it start to berl, toin down the fire some an’ skim dat gray scum offa the water for about t’ree minute. Den toin down the fire ’til the water jes’ shimma, an’ seethe the tongue. You might as well fine somethin’ else to do, ’cuz dat tongue not tenda for t’ree or four hours.

When it tenda, take offa the fire and let it cool in the liquid for a hour or so, ’til it cool enough to handle. You can make the tomatis sauce while it cool. Peel an’ seed the tomatis, cut dem up, an’ fry up wit’ some sauté onion an’ gawlic, an’ oregano, an’ thyme. Sweat the sauce for a while, den simma until the tongue cool. Don’t hafta be done complete, ’cuz the sauce gonna cook in the oven wit’ the tongue.

Now come the hawd pawt. Peel the tough skin offa the tongue. You gonna be sicka tongue, I can tell you, when it all ovah. Den poke holes in the tongue for some Parmesan cube and little Eye-talian olive, an’ stuff dem in dere. Put in a big roastin’ pan wit’ the sauce an’ fit some silver paper tight so dat it braise nice an’ slow at t’ree hunnert or two sebbenty-five, dependin’ on your stove. Ag’in you betta fine somethin’ else to do, ’cuz it take about two hour to braise. When it done, take outta the stove an’ let cool wit’ the silver paper still on. Don’t slice it hot, ’cuz it fall apawt. Slice when cool, an’ reheat for a minute in the sauce. Dis dish freeze real good.

Best soived on spaghetts, wit’ a little extra cheese on the side.

Elwood’s Brick Sauce

Fry up some groun’ beef in a little erl and mush it up good so dat it loose an’ brown good. Put aside. Den the chop’ tomatis. Peel by han’ best, but if you gotta lot, berl dem for a secon’ or two and shuck dere jackets. Get ridda the seed an’ jelly, but strain ’til you get the goodness outta the seed an’ juice an’ jelly.

In the meantime, cut up a onion an’ fry. Put thyme an’ t’ree peppers in dere wit’ the onion. When it soft, put in the gawlic for a secon’ or two. Don’t boin the gawlic! It bittah. Dump alla the tomatis in dere an’ cook on high for t’ree minute or so, den covah an’ sweat for a coupla minute more. Den add the juice an’ keep stirrin’ an’ stirrin’ onna high fire ’til you draw the water out, den brown the tomatis, stirrin’ an’ stirrin’, to bring out the sugah, ’til it look like a brick. Dump in the meat an’ simmah ’til it taste good.

Good for when you gotta lotta peoples comin’ an’ you don’t wanna spen’ a whole lotta money. Soive on spaghetts wit’ sallet.

Crab Salad à la Dutch

The secret to a good crab salad is simplicity and the best ingredients. Use only extremely fresh lump white crabmeat, not claw meat, and homemade mayonnaise. Let the crab shine through and make all other ingredients subservient and subtle. The secret to good mayonnaise is not to use top-quality, virgin, fruity olive oil. The bitterness of green first-press olive oil makes the mayonnaise unpleasantly bitter. Reserve first-press virgin olive oil for green salads and sautés. Use a French-style highly refined olive oil with little character. Or you can use peanut or canola oil for the mayonnaise instead.

For the mayonnaise:

• 1 egg yolk
  
• Dash of dry mustard
  
• Juice of half a lemon
  
• Red and black pepper to taste
  
• ½ tsp of salt, or to taste
  
• ¼ tsp of tarragon vinegar
  
• ¾ cup of mild oil, such as canola or refined olive oil