Frida’s cousin Marcella brought me a full dinner and a pitcher of beer and a kiss on the cheek. She sat next to me, and munched an enchilada, and ch...tted about life and fate, while Pablo and Frida’s teenage son Jaime swept and cleaned, and their little daughter Katrina harvested the tables of salt, pepper and sugar shakers for refilling. Marcella bussed my dinner remains. Katrina solemnly squeaked that I should follow her. I hoisted my guitar and rucksack to a small room with a single bed,. She moved on to trying to recreate the dance she’d done last night. The first few tarantella steps were easy to remember, but she’d whirled into a set of modern steps and couldn’t now remember what they’d been. As she was trying to puzzle it out, Casey strode up to the stage, smirking. “So, are you going to show us those fierce moves you threw together last night? Don’t think we didn’t notice you saved all the best choreography for yourself.”Pilar knew Casey was teasing, but she could see that. More

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