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Mama closed her eyes as the truck bounced and swayed, but I had grown very nervous.
The Crab House was a restaurant with a big ballroom in the rear. In it there was a small stage for the musicians who played the accordion, the fiddle, the triangle, and guitars. This fais dodo was one of the most popular of the year. People were streaming in and out the front door, and we could hear the zydeco music as we pulled into a parking space. Cajuns brought their whole family to dances like this. A room was set aside in the Crab House for the small children, many of whom would fall asleep while their parents danced or played bourre.
When we entered, there were those who knew Mama and were surprised and happy to see her attend. Many of them used the opportunity to complain about one physical ailment or another and get her advice. A number of Daddy's friends were gathered around the beer barrel, drinking and sucking o
n crawfish. I saw Jed Atkins wave to him and then saw Jed coax a tall, slim young man forward.
"Come on, Gabriel," Daddy said. "I'd like you to meet Virgil."
Reluctantly, with Mama flashing warnings and disapproval my way, I walked alongside Daddy. He and Jed shook hands vigorously, and Jed handed him a cup of home brew.
"Hello there, Gabriel," Jed Atkins said, turning to me.
"You sure grow'd into a fine young lady since I seen you last."
"I saw you just a few weeks ago, monsieur."
"Oh, yeah? Must've been a little under the weather. Don't recall." He laughed. "This here's my brother's boy, Virgil," he said, pulling him forward.
Half of Virgil Atkins's left cheek was covered with a patch of cardinal red skin, the ridges in it lifted slightly. He had dark eyes, a thin nose, and dark brown hair, the strands unevenly cut just below his earlobes. His lips were thin, too, resembling a stretched-out rubber band.
"Hello," he said. He sipped some beer.
"Well, ain'tcha going to ask her to dance, Virgil? If I were your age, I would," Jed said. "I used to do a mean two-step when I was younger," he added.
"Sure. You wanna dance?" He had a silly, soft smile, impish like a boy who liked to tease.
I gazed back at Mama, who was watching us while two elderly ladies jabbered in both her ears.
"I think I'll have something to eat and drink first," I said diplomatically.
"Fine. Go fetch her a plate, Virgil. Show her you got manners," Jed said. "These dances are more for you young people than for us old coots," he added, looking at me.
"Right," Virgil said. "Everything's better on a full stomach." Daddy and Jed laughed. Virgil and I walked toward the food.
"I'll getcha a bowl of gumbo," he said, elbowing in between two young boys. After he got us the food, he nodded toward an empty table. "I could getcha a beer."
"No. I'll just have a lemonade," I said.
"Don'tcha drink? All the young girls I know drink these days," he said with a wry expression.
"No," I said.
"You go to a lot of dances?"
I shook my head. He scooped the gumbo into his mouth quickly, his eyes fixed on me.
"You're a pretty girl," he said. "My uncle told me your daddy been keepin' you hidden away." He flashed that small smile again.
"No one's keeping me hidden away," I said sharply. He laughed.
"Why ain'tcha got a steady boyfriend then?"
"I did have," I lied, "but he had to go into the army." "Oh?" His smile evaporated. "Uncle Jed didn't say anything about that."
"Not everyone knows. He writes me a letter every day." "Where's he at?"
"I don't know. It's a secret."
