“"Listen to that." Coyote Springs listened. They heard the city, the ocean, but something else, too. They heard a beautiful voice, Just barely audible. The band couldn't hear the lyrics but picked up the rhythm. "Who is that?" Chess asked. "That's the most beautiful voice I ever heard." Coyote Springs walked without talking, searched for the source of that voice. As they got closer, they also heard a guitar accompanying the voice. A nice, simple chord progression, but something hid behind it. So...mething painful and perfect. "Shit," Chess said. "I don't believe it." As Coyote Springs turned a corner, they discovered the magical duo: an old Indian man singer and Victor, the guitar player. In a filthy brown corduroy suit and white t-shirt, the singer looked older than dirt. But his voice, his voice. A huge crowd gathered. "Look at all the people," Junior said. Tourists and office workers stopped to listen to this ragged Indian version of Simon and Garfunkel. Those people who usually ignored street people threw money into the old Indian man's hat.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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