strangetrip | [GP] Food for the soul

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[GP] Food for the soul

Carlos hated being back at the hotel. He had begun by trying to access the Nevernever but that had totally failed, then caught up with Buffy to go and visit both London and Edinburgh, for varying reasons, and the rest of the time he had headed to Spain - he may have been well travelled, but rarely got time to be a tourist - but his time relaxing and finding out about Spain had been unceremoniously cut short when he woke up and found himself back at the hotel. For a few moments he lay there, utterly fed up, and just feeling incredibly homesick.

That only lasted a few minutes; after that he was a man on a mission.

He hunted out Caroline, and had a long chat with her. Plans were set. Time to cook up a storm. They'd missed 4th July, this could serve as a belated celebration, as well as a 'things ain't all bad here' event. Posters went up throughout the hotel, giving notice of a cook out. Everyone was encouraged to attend. What could be bad about this?

Grills were set up outside to cook up as much meat as they could hold; non-meat options were there as well for variety; salads prepared... a vast array of food to try and cheer up anyone who needed it. Carlos took his place at the grills, brandishing tools, turning the meat over just at the right point.

All that was needed now was people to attend.

[ooc: Use as a general gathering post - if you want Carlos specifically, tag him in the subject line]

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Curnen blinked, a little surprised at the question. "I'm a little rusty, but yeah. Why?"

"Liz said reading music is a little like math." Miguel took a breath and confessed, "but I'm not good at math no matter how hard I try. Is it really hard to learn? Reading music?"

"I think it's like reading any language," Curnen answered with a shrug. "You got a bunch of little squiggles on a page and each one of them means a sound. Once you know that, you gotta keep practicing until you don't need to think anymore to figure out what the sounds are supposed to be." She cupped his cheek. "You got all the instincts for it. All you're looking for's a little polish."

That explanation made him feel a lot better. He learned English, he could learn to read music. It was probably easier than English.

He smiled softly at Curnen. "Gracias, that helped. I did okay when I learned English in school. That was a lot easier than math."

Curnen stroked her thumb over his cheek, her smile echoing his own. She leaned in and kissed his forehead. "You got a good song in your soul, Miguel, and people here to help you find it if you want. I'll help. Coby and Scanlan I'm sure'll help, too."

"Scanlan is helping me come up with songs of my own. He said to use music that I knew but put my own words to it." Miguel had only done one song but Scanlan had encouraged him.

He scrunched his nose, "it's not as easy as it sounds, but I'm working on it."

Curnen chuckled. "That's one way. Playing with songs you know's a good way to get creative."

"Is that how you started to play your own songs?" Miguel was curious, "or was that something that you always did?" Since he didn't grow up around music, he wasn't sure how it worked when you did.

"Oh, yeah," Curnen said, nodding. "Take a tune you know real well, add some commentary about whatever you're doing in the moment, you get a song. I did it all the time as a kid when I was doing chores. I don't remember most of 'em, but I prolly came up with a dozen stupid things about feeding the pigs."

Miguel thought that was very clever and maybe he'd start doing that. Not that he had chores but doing stuff around the inn.

"Was that your chore around your house?" He assumed so anyway. "Mine is helping with the dishes. Um putting them away. My Mama says that I don't wash or dry them very well." He looked at Curnen with a sheepish grin, "that's accidentally on purpose so I don't have to wash or dry them." It was his and Dante's secret, and now he'd shared it with her.

Curnen laughed. "Long as you can do it, smart. And yeah, that was one of my chores. Daddy farmed the family land back then, we all had plenty to do."

"My abuelita had a little vegetable garden behind our house in the village, but mostly we traded with the farmers. Our family made shoes so we would trade shoes sometimes with them." He looked over at Curnen, "most of our village traded for stuff."

It was a poor village, but it was a happy place, even when he couldn't listen to music.

Curnen nodded. Nobody exactly had much in Needsville, either. You were the rich kid if your daddy delivered the mail. Good reliable government job, that. "My home's a lot like that, too. You grow extra corn, sell it, provide what the family can't buy or make with the money. Course my sister Bliss didn't keep that up. She became an EMT, so after daddy died she sold off some land 'cause she couldn't tend it like it needed." Bliss had never had a talent or interest in farming.

Miguel could understand not wanting to follow in the family footsteps for their job. He didn't want to be a shoemaker either.

"Did it stay in the family when she sold the land? Your cousins I mean." He hoped his cousins would take over his part or maybe his little sister if she wanted to when she got older.

"Distant family, but yeah. Most everybody in Cloud County's related if you go back enough generations." More important was keeping it in the clan, though. It hadn't gone to any of Rockhouse's folk, and that was what really mattered.

"That's nice that it got kept in the family. I would be sad if no one was making shoes in our family." Miguel gave her a quick flash of smile, "as long as it's not me that has to do it."

He felt like he was going back to his family's roots with the singing since his Mama Imelda and Papa Hector sang before Mama Imelda began making shoes.

Curnen smiled sympathetically. "Family and traditions are complicated. My family... for the most part as long as you're doing something good for other people, the rest is negotiable. The music's what really binds us."

Edited 2018-07-30 05:35 (UTC)

"That's one of the things I like about being here." Miguel started, "everybody helps everyone. It's a little bit like being back in the village. Everyone trades off doing stuff. Mack is doing a comic of me and Dante and I'm teaching Liz how to play the guitar."

No one needed money, they traded with what they could do. Miguel liked that.

Curnen lit up, remembering that conversation with Liz for the first time since the poor got up to sing in front of a group. "I heard about that, teaching! Good job, baby."

Miguel's chest swelled with pride and his smile could have lit up a room. "Gracias. I tried to teach her like I learned. Just keep watching over and over and practicing really hard."

"It's a great way to learn," Curnen assured him, looking fondly on that dimple on one side of his mouth. "It's most of how I learned, anyway, though." She held up her hands, waggling all twelve of her fingers. "Took a little patience from all of us to work with this."

Miguel looked at her fingers with awe, he always thought it was one of the best things that he'd ever seen. "I bet you got a lot of neat sounds out of the guitar chords." Something no one else could do because of her extra fingers.

"I can," Curnen agreed. "But like you, it's something I gotta teach myself. Only I don't have anybody I can watch."

Well. There had been one, but like hell that would ever have happened.

"That's really awesome! I mean that you learned how to do it all on your own." Miguel wouldn't have ever learned to play the guitar if he hadn't had Ernesto's movies.

"Well, I still learned how to play five-fingered from my sister," Curnen admitted, ducking her head. "But yeah, had to figure out what to do with my extra pinkies myself." A lot of the time she just kept them out of it because no one knew how to work with them. It was such a rare thing, and even more rare for them to be fully functional.

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