Page 131 of Sombra
She cocks her head. “Is that you singing?”
I nod. “Sí, señorita. I sing and play guitar.”
Her eyes widen for a moment. “Oh.” She looks me up and down. “Do you mind if I hear it?”
Shrugging, I hand her my phone. She plugs in her headphones and listens. As she listens, her face gets a happy look, even though it’s the middle of the night.
“Look, I work for a club in New York. I could get you a gig if you want to come and sing. I think you’regreat.” She shrugs. “Maybe someone could find you there.”
Prickles come up and down my arm. It’s starting. My dream is starting. “Could you give me your information? Your phone number” I ask.
She pauses for a moment, her eyes not focusing. I almost want to wave my hand in front of her face. Then she recovers. “Yes. Yes, here you go.” She pulls out the airsick bag and writes downher phone number and email. I do the same, and I promise to send her my YouTube links.
My spine gets shivers. She smiles and goes back to sleep. But I can’t.
We land in New York City, and it’s a testament to how much I want to see Kim Brown that I don’t step foot in this classic American city except for the airport. But I’ll have time for that later. I can’t live another moment withoutKim.
As I board the smaller flight for Iowa, my resolve grows and grows. I post a picture of a JFK airport sign. After going through customs and immigration, I proceed to my gate, where I take a picture showing my destination is Des Moines.
I’m a complete bundle of nerves. I’m here in the United States with every Euro I have, a free flight from a friend, and a hope that the loveof my life will talk to me when I get there.
When the plane lands, they can’t turn off the “fasten seatbelt” sign quickly enough. I’m up, grabbing my backpack and out before I can do anything. I need to get my bag from the baggage claim, then arrange for an Uber or Lyft or whatever and find my way to her house. I’m so glad I have her address from her initial email.
Joder. That’sa lot to do.
As I step out of the security area into the baggage claim, people mill about. The conveyor belts are stopped.
And there is Kim, holding a little name card that says “DE LA GUERRA.”
