All the better, this ride is boring me. Hit the floor Camilo, you come with me. Bring your forty- five. There is a magnificent mockingbird symphony on the edge of the cornfield. Finches and cardinals criss-cross the road chirping snappy tunes.
Eagles swoop and sway high above the low hills to the west.
The sun races with them, seeking the coolness of the Guerrero state coast. Dopey Hitler and our bus driver Camilo go into the milpa. The cornfields are tall, and the stalks stand heavy with ears ready to pluck, ripe, crowned with the golden hairs of maturity and full flavor. Dopey returns to the bus. Camilo sits smoking by the road, squatting as only Mixtecas know how, holding his cigarette with both hands, as in prayer.