THE PASSAGE

A Wonderful Evening

Chapter 9

Our song ends, and Toby and I return to our chairs. Grace looks at me and smiles. "You not going home."

I smile back at her. Toby and I stare at each other, and I wonder what I'd say if he'd really ask me to stay.

Toby lays his hand on my back. "You doing okay?"

"Um, yes. I was thinking about that beautiful song, thank you, Toby."

"How do you know it was beautiful if you couldn't understand the words?"

"I could feel his emotions through his music. And then, you tell me what the song is implying. It's just so coincidental. Kind of like a story about me and you." I smile shyly, then glance down and giggle before looking back at him.

Toby smiles. He starts to say something, but before the words get out of his mouth, Boudreau yells from beside the crawfish pot. "We beta pull dem out. It's been over twenty minutes."

Upon hearing this, Grace and Abby start spreading newspapers on the folding tables in preparation for the crawfish. I go and help them while the men tend to the pot. When we have both tables covered, Toby and Pop carry the basket full of crawfish, potatoes, corn, and sausage and pour out a generous amount on each table. The aroma is terrific.

The two then pour out what is remaining in an ice chest to keep warm for later.

"Ma Cher, the only thing left for you to learn is the proper way to eat crawfish," says Pop.

"Will you teach me?"

"Sure, I teach you. Here what you do. You find yourself a nice, big crawfish like dis. And you make sure you don get a dead one."

"A dead one, aren't they all dead?"

Pop laughs. "If da tails are curled under, like dis one," he says as he holds up a crawfish, "he was alive when he hit da water in da pot. Dat good. But if you find one wit da tail straight, den he was dead before he hit da pot."

"Um, okay, I understand."

I select a large crawfish from the pile on the table, being careful that he wasn't 'dead.'

"Okay, now what?"

"Den you break de tail away from da head, like dis."

I snap the tail apart from the head. Easy enough.

"Now, you suck all da good stuff out da head, like dis." Pop brings the crawfish head up to his mouth and sucks on it like he is slurping through a straw. I look at him like he has lost his mind.

"Yuck, that's gross."

Everyone starts laughing at me.

"It's good, Jamie. You should try it," says Abby.

"Let's all give her a little encouragement," says Pop.

Everyone picks up a crawfish, breaks off the tail, and holds up the head.

"Ma Cher, we want to see you go first," says Boudreau.

Grace starts chanting, Jamie—Jamie—Jamie. Then everyone follows Grace's lead and starts chanting my name. I can't back out now. I take the crawfish head, put it up to my mouth, and suck as hard as I can—everyone cheers.

"Not bad. A little spicy, but good," I say. I take a big swallow of beer to cool off my mouth. "So, how do you peel the tail?"

"You take da tail and peel away just a little of da shell ware you broke it from da head, like dis. Den you grab da tail meat and pull while you squeeze da bottom of da tail wit you other hand, and da tail meat come out."