Pierre the Postcard--Part 1

Michel Delecroix
Pierre the Postcard is a children's story about embracing change, no matter what life throws at us and perhaps we make some new friends and broaden our minds and overcome our fear along the way

One sunny afternoon, a young girl, Juliette, no older than 8, who has been living on a hill above a cobbled winding street next to Père Lachaise cemetery in Paris, started to write a postcard.  Sitting at her bay window she started to write to Yousef, living in Orleans. 

Dear Yousef, 

Yesterday below our house there was this most wonderful music.  I haven't heard this kind of music before. There was a man who had big cheeks blown up like a puffer fish.  He was blowing down a trumpet.  There was a drummer, who was playing so fast he looked like he had arms like an octopus. There was a saxophonist-Dad told me how to spell that word- who looked like she was playing a snake.  I would love to know where that music comes from. It sounded strange and familiar at the same time. My Dad told me it was "Jazz". Do you know where Jazz comes from Yousef? 

Juliette looks at the front of her postcard that she wrote of a girl playing a saxophone in a cobbled street much like her own, smiles, licks the stamp and writes 5 Rue De Voyage, Orleans and posts it off in the yellow postbox at the bottom of her street, "Bon voyage Pierre  La postcarte", Juliette giggles to herself as she skips back to her house near Père Lachaise.

Pierre the postcard arrives at the mail office and is sorted with hundreds of other letters and envelopes by a sleepy mail man. Having arrived into the office at 4am, he is wiping his eyes thinking of the holiday he really needs to take with his family and robotically sorting postcards and letters.  He picks up one with a girl playing a Saxophone on the front and smiles, and looks at the back with bleary eyes reading quickly "5 Rue de Voyage, Orleans" He sees the girl with the saxophone again "Jazz...must be New Orleans" and puts in the box read for USA.

Inside a box full of other postcards and letters, Pierre suddenly hears an American voice twang and drawl. 

"Pourquoi?!...Why have we been traveling for so long"? Pierre exclaims confused that silences all the voices  "I didn't know that we had to cross such a big river to get across to Orleans", says Pierre.

"Oh daaaarrrling" comes a long drawl from a postcard displaying a large bouquet of Chrysanthemums on her front. "You ain't going to Orleans, honey"! 

"Mon dieu, ou?.. Where am I going"? Pierre jumps out of the box and takes himself to the ship's window and looks out in disbelief at the masses of water.

Finally arriving at the New York central mail office, Pierre the Postcard is poured out into another box.  
French postcards cry: "Superbe"! 
American postcard cry: "Allllriiiight"!

Pierre the postcard looks around at all the other postcards, frightened. Suddenly he sees one of them walking towards him.  This one is bigger than the others with a larger than life drummer on the front smiling with big white teeth standing out against black skin. 

"What's up brother"? Pierre backs up against the side of the box "My name's Gus" Gus the postcard holds out his paper hand.
Pierre looks back at him unnerved and shaking a little but he manages a sound out a "Bonjour" to him.
"Oh man, you got seasick or summat, you shakin' man. Welcome to New York!"
Pierre smiles weakly back at Gus.
"But we ain't staying here, we gonna get on the road down to New Orleans! Home to all that Jazz..you must be well acquainted with all that by the looks of it"? Gus points his papery finger at Pierre the Postcard's body with a girl playing the saxophone.
"New Orleans"?! Pierre shrieks in disbelief. 
Gus puzzled, walks around to the back of his Pierre the Postcard, reading the address out loud.
"5 Rue de Voyage, Orleans"?! Gus laughs "Oh man, someone got you all mixed up! Nevermind brother, you coming with me, look I got the same address...but in New Orleans! We gonna Jazz it up"!

Gus the postcard puts his papery arm around Pierre the postcard as they fall back down into the box as an Amtrak train whizzes south.

Pierre is fast asleep. Suddenly he feels Gus prodding him awake "Here we are"! He announces triumphantly. 

Pierre just wants to go back to sleep, exhausted from his journey, but before he knows it, he is lifted out of the box and shoved into a letter box along with Gus and they land upon polished Mahogany floorboards.  

Pierre hears the pitter patter of tiny feet coming towards them before they are scooped up into small hands "Daaaaaaad, we got mail"!    

Pierre the postcard looks up to see a round face, with eyes the colour of dark cedar wood staring at the girl playing the Saxophone on his tummy.  He is turned over.
"Yousef?" The young boy wonders aloud. "Daaaaaad?! Who's Yousef"? 

Larger footsteps smoothly pass over the polished floor to greet the boy. Pierre is taken into bigger hands that grasp him tightly. Pierre notices that they are at the end of incredibly long arms that are as flexible as spaghetti.

"Oh man, looks like this one's come all the way from France"! Spaghetti arms exclaims.
"Oh wow Dad! France! Can we go and take it back"?! His son jumps up wide eyed and excitedly.
"Not so fast son. Come on get ready, we gotta get to rehearsals, the performance is tonight".

Gus and Pierre the postcards are placed carefully together on the table as they hear the big and little footsteps walk out and shut the door behind them.

Gus jumps up on the table "Do you know who that was man"? 
Pierre picks himself up and looks at Gus' picture on his postcard stomach.
"Alors, it looks un petit peu like this homme".
"Exactement,, my brother". Gus exclaims proudly "That is the one and only Brian Blade" Gus points towards a pinned up picture of the drummer smiling with his band: Two Saxophonists, a pianist and double bass with Brian Blade and The Fellowship Band scrawled across the picture.
"Hey look at this"! Gus points at a flyer, Pierre starts to read
"Blade at the Blue Rock, 8:30pm....
"Tonight"! The flyer shouts out.  Gus and Pierre jump back startled  that the flyer spoke to them "Well, don't look so surprised, postcards are not the only ones that have a voice y'know" The flyer stands up with her papery legs on the kitchen table "....and didn't ya mama ever tell ya it's rude to point" Ms. Jazzy Flyer walks towards Gus the postcard and points at picture of Brian Blade on his tummy. "now don't ya think you better get a move on if ya wanna see them rehearse"
"She's right ya know" Pierre laughs for the first time since he left France "If anyone knows, it's a flyer"! 
"That's right" Ms. Flyer responds putting her hands on her hips "Go on, get a move on"She shoos them off the table.  Gus jumps off, immediately at her command and half runs off down the hall to the door. Pierre catches up with him waving to Ms. Flyer who smiles and waves back at him.  
"Ca Va? Are you alright"? Pierre half laughing, puts his arm around Gus 
"She's darn scary man"! Gus looks back to Ms. Flyer with her hands on her hips who gives him a wink
"Haha...about as scary as you mon ami"!
"Mon Ami"! Gus repeats smiling as they jump through the letter box "That's more like it my friend"!
"It's in Le Vieux Quartier"!  She shouts to them
" Le Vieux Quartier" Gus says aloud, then turns to Pierre "That's the French quarter man..."
"Le quartier Francais"? Pierre looks back at him quizzically.
"Yeah man, oh you're gonna love this"! Gus exclaims as he posts himself back through the letterbox.  Pierre smiles again, beginning to enjoy himself and posts himself back out through the letter box and follows Gus down Rue de Voyage.
  Pierre and Gus press their bodies up against a steamed up window. Inside there is the owner's band playing with him on the drums.  The drummer is playing so smoothly and fluidly that you can hardly tell he is drumming.  His arms look like an Octopus and the beats surround them as if they are coming from different parts of the room.
  As Gus and Pierre jump into the room unbeknown to the band, the saxophonist improvises. Pierre stands in awe.  Gus shouts out so he can hear "Come on brother"! Pierre is still frozen in awe at the euphony of sounds that feel so new to Pierre's ears. " so Gus walks up to him and whispers in his papery ear "come on brother, you'll hear a lot more of this real New Orleans Jazz, I'll show you how they do it around here."  Gus walks under and in between the tables of people tapping their feet to a small trap door leading to beneath the stage.  There, a group of postcards are playing New Orleans Jazz.
"Non, Non, Non....more tempo and syncopation, mon dieu". A postcard with a picture of a musician stood outside a French colonial house in New Orleans turns to see Gus & Pierre standing there.
"Ah, Mon Ami! ça va"! 
The conductor postcard with a picture of Andre Previn on his belly comes up to Gus and gives him a papery kiss on both sides of his postcard cheeks, just like the French do.
"Hey Clement, Easy there brother" Gus steps back blushing 
"What...er!!" Clement the conductor postcard says in his thick French accent "Dis is how we do it..er..mais non"? he winks at Pierre the postcard who is watching them amused. Gus follows his gaze and quickly remembers his manners
"ah, I want you to meet Pierre, he's a frog too.."
Pierre glares at Gus "Je ne suis pas Grenouille, Je suis Francais"...but is interrupted by Andre the conductor postcard hugging him...
"...Bienvenue..Welcome..et maintenant, now... you'll hear some New Orleans Jazz" Andre looks upon Pierre's postcard belly and sees Orleans written in the corner near the little girl playing a Saxophone in the street.  "It looks like you'll get to experience a different kind of Orleans, mon ami" He turns to his Postcard Jazz band and taps his feet to "A one, two, one, two, one, two three four"

Pierre the Postcard stands back and takes it all in.  A papery piano postcard with corrugated edges dances across the keys of the piano so that the notes syncopate and float towards him like a lively  butterfly.  The drumming postcard builds the up the intro tension with a hissing and sizzling ready to drop the beat.  The two trumpeting postcards belt out as an elegant, tall postcard steps forward, her curly hair as black as ebony shimmering in the golden light.  Upon her postcard stomach she fashions a sequin red dress the colour of her scarlet lips that she opens first without a sound, showing her pristine teeth the colour of ivory, gradually releasing a sound from her papery belly.

The double bass postcard adds another layer as the drums kick in his beat with a faster tempo, as the  Piano postcard flutters faster across the black and white keys where a sound arises like a voice from a far off continent, scarred from the greed of others, echoes of slavery, rise up and shake Pierre the postcard to the core, bringing an awakening and feeling of triumph over adversity. Breathing deeply, he turns to Gus in acknowledgement.

"I felt it too brother" Gus whispers, suddenly jumping up exclaiming to Clement "Ya know man....this is great, but I gotta play man, it's 'about time"
Clement looked upon his band jamming away syncopated & energetic and turned back to his friend and said
"Ok mon ami, let's try"
Clement lifts his papery hand to slow the beats down a tempo to a gradually stop. Gus excitedly waddled over to the drummer and let his head drop into a little bow in respect as he found his place on the stool.
"Pierre!.....Gus shouted after his friend"You can join in too, there's a sax over there"
"Ah, mon dieu tu joues aussi"? Exclaimed Clement
"Non, I mean, I didn't know I could"
"Ah., but of course mon ami, didn't you know? You have the music in you"! Pierre points to the little girl playing the Sax on the front "So play on mon ami, play on"...
Pierre looks down to the little girl playing sax on his postcard body and tentatively steps in between the band members to a saxophone stood waiting to be played.  Gus nods to Clement.
" Un, Deux, un deux, trois, quatre" Clement brings in the band with his papery baton in the air, music fills the underground stage beneath the great hall where Brian Blade, skips a beat, as Gus down below with Brian Blade on his tummy picks up the beat and leads the band in with an up-tempo but steady 2 by 4. The piano postcard plays a little riff and looks across to Pierre who plays out his own soul, gradually his eyes grow wider as the sounds that are released from the golden sax sneak out into an ever more complex syncopated melody that is leading the whole band in a euphony of eclectic sounds.  A postcard with an old French violin on its paper tummy slowly stands up and joins in with an even older postcard that has gone slightly brown around the edges, with an accordion on their belly, adding more of a French flair to the band. Pierre creases his papery face with a large smile, slowly remembering his cobbled street and the little girl that brought him to life in the north of Paris near Père Lachaise cemetery. 

"Now we're cooking" Gus interjects Pierre's nostalgia. Gus drums aways letting Pierre sway and mould into the rhythm with his sax, sometimes taking the lead, sometimes holding back and letting the trumpets, piano, or drums take the lead until they all come together as one. The whole New Orleans postcard band jams its way through, into evening as Brian Blade and his Fellowship Band play above them, French Quarter coming alive in heat of early summer.  
  As Pierre lets the beats carry away his loneliness to a place of harmony with his new found friends in the deep south so far away from home, but between the joy and uplift on Gus' high hats he cannot help but feel the tug on his heart every time he hears the violin and accordion, reminding him that his voyage is not yet over, that he has somewhere where he must be; that it is somewhere else than here.
Stepping out from underneath the stage with Gus holding tiny drumsticks in his papery hands, Pierre watched Brian Blade similarly carrying his drum sticks and turns to his Fellowship Band with a big smile to wave goodbye.
"See you for Mardi Gras tomorrow"! Brian waves and he is gone.
"Mardi Gras? I thought that was only in France"? Pierre asks Gus his paper face crinkling up.
"Oh, my friend, Mardi Gras New Orleans, is a sight to see"! Gus pats a papery hand on Pierre's postcard back "You're in for a treat...everyone is practicing now ready for the little parades...come on, let me show you" Gus' little papery feet carry him swiftly out the door before Pierre could object, so that he had nothing more to do, but follow him.
"Come on"! Gus shouts not looking back.
Pierre doesn't have time to think anymore about his loneliness as he runs after Gus into the bustling street of the French Quarter.
He can see Gus disappearing in and out of the crowd as day turns into dusky pink evening as the crowd buzzes to the sound of trumpets playing alongside a piano and banjo on a float. Pierre looks up in awe at a slow moving float with what looks like an elaborately decorated king, adorned in gold wearing a mask of purple and green. As this extravagant spectacle glides by, Pierre recognises the Fleur d'lis from his own country, France aligned and framed like a sun.
"The Sun King"! Pierre suddenly exclaims out loud recognising this grand symbol of Paris that reigned for 72 year between the 17th and 18th centuries. As Pierre was swept up in the seething crowd, he saw Gus shouting and cheering to the float with a group of other postcards he had met up with. They held out their hands to the float cheering inaudibly to the the crowd. Pierre puzzled looked around and saw a giant tree not far away from the float covered in colourful beads. Suddenly Pierre felt a harsh hit on his paper head which nearly knocked him over. A little postcard girl came rushing over to him and scooped down to pick it up with her tiny, papery hands.
"Are you going to wear that?"
Pierre couldn't really figure out what was going on, so he just gestured politely in his way to the girl to take it.
"It's just pink is my favourite colour" She swept it up and put it excitedly onto her postcard neck, and skipped off into the crowd with the picture of a little girl playing a a pink piano on a big stage on her postcard back. Pierre smiled to himself, still unsure what was really going on, just as he turned to see Gus receive orange beads get thrown onto his postcard neck as the trumpets played in unison out into excited throng of colourfully dressed carnivalesque people.
"Is this your Mardi Gras?"
Pierre managed to shout into Gus' ear.
"Oui Mon Ami, from your home....and here we are still in the French Quarter...do you feel at home now?" Gus turned to his other Jazzy postcard friends and danced away to a solo clarinet that had taken the lead. "Listen to that"!
"What is that kind of Jazz?"
"It's Creole...listen"
Pierre felt the uptempo beat, so expressive, with a honky tonk swing, creative inflections and complex combinations of all the band guiding each other with intuitive understanding, whilst allowing for a expressive solo clarinet to come forward. Pierre couldn't help but let his postcard body feel the musical energy flow through him, so that that his little paper fit were tapping away and his shoulders lifted up and down it was time for the Bango .  His spirits couldn't help but be lifted as he danced with a little funny waddle with the other postcards behind the float as more beads were thrown out into the crowd and they followed the music. His worrisome thoughts about going home seemed to have disappeared, but he could never envisaged what was about to happen.
    
Story-Challenge!!

How does Pierre The Postcard get home? Can you think of an ending? If you want to think of an ending leave in the comments below.  You can get your parents or teachers, aunties/uncles to help you write it up in a document or just post in the comments below.  I will write up all the entries so that Pierre the Postcard can find his way home! 


(c) Jessica White. 







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