"It takes five years to rebuild a house?" asked Amanda.

"It's New Orleans; things are different down there."

"But we are just kids. How are we going to fix anything?" asked Cindy.

"We can take Amanda's video camera and film them breaking into Tiffany's today," said Thibodeaux. "That way we will know what they look like. Right now all we have are their voices on a video clip and a plan on a flash drive. We need to show the cops what they look like, or at least what some of them look like, so they know who to arrest. And if the cops know what really happened, they will let everyone go back home."

"That's too dangerous. I am in charge and I can't take on that responsibility..." said Amanda.

"No, we have to do it," said Peter. "Sometimes you have to do scary things. That's what Uncle Mark said before he left for Iraq."

"Who's this Uncle Mark?" asked Thibodeaux.

"He's my Dad. He is a lawyer and he is in the Naval Reserve and they sent him to Iraq," said Cindy.

"But if he is a lawyer he shouldn't be in danger or get hurt," said Thibodeaux.

"I heard my Mom say that it is dangerous everywhere over there. That you can't walk out the door without someone trying to kill you," said Cindy.

"I heard her say that too," said Amanda. "She was crying."

"But my Dad told my Mom that even though it is scary, he needs to go so everyone can have a better life and fewer people will go to bed at night being scared," said Cindy.

"That Uncle Mark sounds like one smart man. We can't let those thugs ruin the city. I just started my clothing line and my Auntie has never lived anywhere else. All her friends are in Harlem," said Thibodeaux.

"I can't be a Broadway star if there is no Broadway," said Cindy.

Amanda did not even bother to respond to Cindy. So what if she was worrying about being a Broadway star, it was better than if she were worrying about staying alive. "It's too scary. Maybe someone else will catch them at it."

"Did you see 'someone else' out there. All the cops left. It is just us and Mr. Garvain and Miss Virginia. They are the only people who tried to help us. Everyone else tried to hurt us," said Peter.

"Please Amanda. We have to do something. I want to go home," begged Cindy.

"I guess you are right. We do need to know what they look like. I will go film them," said Amanda.

"Hey, I can get around this city a lot better than any of you can. You're just a bunch of helicopter kids from Connecticut," said Thibodeaux.

"I'm not from Connecticut." Said Cindy. "I live in the city too."

"I bet you are one of those nanny babies," said Thibodeaux.

"I don't have a nanny. Babies have nannies and I am nine years old," said Cindy.

"But you did have one, right?" asked Thibodeaux.

Cindy did not say anything.

"Hey, stop this. What's a helicopter kid?" said Amanda.

"Someone whose parents watch them all the time and don't ever hire babysitters. I'm not like you. I am used to doing things on my own. My Mamma is a jazz singer so I grew up staying with the neighbors while she sang. I'm used to making my own way," said Thibodeaux.

"So what? I'm a Girl Scout, I went to camp and I know how to take care of myself," said Amanda.

"Do you know how to run all over this city without your parents?" asked Thibodeaux.

"I think I have done a pretty good job so far. Where would you be if you didn't hook up with us?" asked Amanda.

"I am not staying here without Amanda," said Peter.

"You can't leave me here. I am going with Amanda. Mr. Garvain and Miss Virginia are very nice but they are old and you promised to take care of me," said Cindy.

"It's not safe for all of us to go and I like Mr. Garvain and Miss Virginia," said Amanda.

"So do I but you can't go unless I go with you because I will walk out the door right after you," said Peter.

"Me, too." Cindy was beginning to sound upset again.

"Okay," said Amanda.

"So we are going to do it. Go take a photo of the bad guys?" asked Thibodeaux.

"I'm in," said Cindy.

"So am I," said Amanda.

"Me too," said Peter.

Amanda put out her hand. Peter, Cindy, and Thibodeaux put their hands on top of her hand and said, "Let's go."

"Hey, we need a name," said Peter.

"Say what?" asked Thibodeaux.

"If we are going to be part of a posse that saves the city, we need a name," said Peter.

"If you say so. Okay, we can be The Big Apple Posse," said Thibodeaux.

"The Big Apple Posse," said Cindy. "You got it."

"So, we need to get dressed. Well, I guess we are dressed." Amanda looked down at her 60's era frock. "We can't go anywhere wearing these. We need black clothes if we are going to hide."

"We can ask Miss Virginia. Maybe she has some dark clothes," said Peter.

"You got that," said Thibodeaux.

They walked out into the hall and down the stairs to Miss Virginia's living room. There was a note on the living room table. "Please go downstairs to Mr. Garvain's kitchen and he will make breakfast. Please do not wake me until 11:00 am; I need my beauty sleep."

The children climbed down the back stairs to Mr. Garvain's kitchen. Mr. Garvain was sitting on a bar stool next to the kitchen island.

"Good morning. How do you feel today? And you young lady, how are your eyes?"asked Mr. Garvain.

"They are much better, thank you," said Amanda.

"Well, we need to have some breakfast. Thank goodness I have a hibachi," said Mr. Garvain. "I can make some pancakes and eggs."

"That would be great. We have not had anything to eat except snacks since Saturday and it's Monday now," said Amanda.

Mr. Garvain was rustling about the kitchen, taking eggs from the refrigerator and quickly closing the door. He started cracking the eggs and pouring them into a large green pottery bowl.

"Well, I don't have any fresh vegetables. Miss Virginia and I eat out for lunch and dinner so we just have breakfast food," said Mr. Garvain.

"That's okay. I don't like vegetables," said Peter.

"I always eat organic vegetables," said Cindy.

Amanda looked at Cindy, thought about how annoying she was and almost said something, but stopped. She could start fighting with Cindy again after they were safe.

Thibodeaux walked out the French doors to the garden and picked up a mug and poured himself a cup of coffee from the percolator on the hibachi.

"Oh my," asked Mr. Garvain. "Does your mother know you drink coffee?"

"Sure, she put it in my bottle." Thibodeaux looked at Mr. Garvain. "I'm just kidding about the bottle, but she knows. I'm from New Orleans and I grew up drinking coffee.

"I drink coffee too," said Amanda as she walked over to the stove.

"You do?" Cindy was incredulous. "Does your mother know?"

"No, and don't you tell her. She thinks I order fruit drinks when I go to Starbucks. And don't you tell either, Peter," said Amanda.

"Okay. But you two are all the coffee drinkers we are having this morning. Children should not be drinking coffee, I'm pretty sure. Peter, Cindy, those are your names right, would you two like a coke?" asked Mr. Garvain.

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Sure, they would love to have a coke." Connecticut mothers did not let their children drink cokes.

Mr. Garvain gave Cindy and Peter a coke and continued preparing the eggs and pancakes.

Mr. Garvain's kitchen was very old fashioned. It did not have any new appliances. Everything was old, but there were shelves filled with pottery, a fancy looking cappuccino machine, and lots of old silver.

Everyone sat down at the kitchen table to drink their drinks and wait for breakfast.

"May I help you?" asked Amanda.

"No, you are my guests and in my home, guests are treated like guests," said Mr. Garvain.

He finished the eggs and put scrambled eggs on four plates and handed them to the children. He then put a plate full of pancakes, some butter, and maple syrup in the middle of the table. And then Mr. Garvain gave each of the children some heavily engraved silverware and a thick linen napkin with an individual napkin ring.

The children were famished and ate quickly, as did Mr. Garvain. Amanda sat at the table and thought about how grateful she was that they had been able to sleep safely and now they were eating. She felt so responsible for all of them, even Thibodeaux.

Thibodeaux walked upstairs and got the video camera and came back downstairs. He sat back down at the table and tested it to see how much room there was on the card and to see if the battery was charged.

"Looks like we are good to go." Thibodeaux stood up and started packing the camera in its case.

"And just where do you think you are going, my fine young fellow?" asked Mr. Garvain.

"We are going to save the city," said Cindy.

"You are going to do what?" asked Mr. Garvain.

"There are some bad men who blew up some buildings and put white powder all over the place with some anthrax mixed in the white powder in a few buildings downtown so everyone would evacuate the city and they could steal all the diamonds in the city," said Peter.

"What? Is he always like that?" asked Mr. Garvain.

"Yes," said Amanda.

"We have proof. We have their plans on a flash drive but we don't know what they look like so we need to go film them so we can show the cops and the cops can arrest them and everyone can go home," said Peter.

"Well, that is the craziest thing I ever heard. I think we better wait for the authorities to tell us what is going on," said Mr. Garvain.

"But the authorities left and we are the only ones still here," said Thibodeaux. "If the authorities had not left, we would have gotten on a bus and been in New Jersey by now, not sitting around your kitchen table trying to fix this mess."

"But why do you think this mess was caused by diamond thieves? And what's a flash drive?" asked Mr. Garvain.

"Peter, got get your computer and show Mr. Garvain. Peter picked up a flash drive from one of the bad guys and we have their plan." Amanda saw the perplexed look on Mr. Garvain's face. "A flash drive is a small file for a computer."

"Well, you go get your computer and I will get Miss Virginia. She taught school and she knows about things like computers. Long ago, I made a decision to live my life without a computer. Life is much more elegant without things like that email and people sitting around looking at other people's faces," said Mr. Garvain.

"He means Facebook," whispered Cindy.

Peter left to go upstairs to get his computer followed by Mr. Garvain, who slowly climbed up the two flights of stairs it took to get to Miss Virginia's room and the room where the children had slept.

Mr. Garvain paused outside Miss Virginia's bedroom door and knocked. "Miss Virginia, the children and I need your guidance. Would you please come downstairs and assist us?" asked Mr. Garvain.

Mr. Garvain stood by the door and listened. He knocked again. "Miss Virginia, would you please join us in the kitchen."

There was a loud thumping sound. Something had been thrown at the door from inside the room.

"She's awake now. We should go back downstairs; she will be down shortly," Mr. Garvain told Peter.

Mr. Garvain and Peter climbed back down the stairs and went into the kitchen. Peter put his computer on the table and inserted the flash drive. The computer was still hooked up to the portable battery charger.

There were thumping sounds on the stairs. "Don't you know a lady needs her beauty sleep?" said Miss Virginia as she walked into the room. Miss Virginia was wearing a pink and orange silk kimono and her hair was rolled in pink foam hair curlers. There was a purple satin sleep mask pushed back into her curled hair.

"Sorry, sister. These children have something to tell us that involves video cameras and computers and I need your help," said Mr. Garvain.

"Very well. But first I must have my coffee." Miss Virginia walked outside to the garden, and using a mitt, picked up the now empty percolator.

Miss Virginia turned around and gave everyone in the room a baleful stare.

"Where, may I ask, is my cup of coffee?"