Once, as he was retreating, he’d bumped into Negro. “You feeling bad, champ?” he asked. Gaspar said no. Later he heard Negro say to his uncle, “He’s a sad kid.” And he waited for his uncle’s agreement, his yes, his disappointment. But Luis surprised him. No, he told Negro. He’s not sad. It’s his temperament. And even if he was sad, so what? He is the way he is. Getting plastered and shouting to high heaven isn’t for everyone. We make noise to fill the hole we have inside.
