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“In New Orleans, we dance even if there’s no radio. We drink at funerals. We talk too much and laugh too loud and live too large and, frankly, we’re suspicious of others who don’t.” – Chris Rose</i><br/><br/>Speaking in terms of New Orleans, most new arrivals had a difficult time understanding the city because it consisted of more than just a few blocks of townhouses and cottages standing side-by-side, up against the sidewalk. Few visitors were accustomed to such a melange of people moving at all hours of the day and night in the very center of the city, except for Amadan Vélas. The Spanish immigrant quickly learned that in New Orleans, bars had no closing hour, that the food was spicy, and that the music pulsated almost everywhere.<br/><br/>He also took note that the locals talked funny but seldom had southern accents, and that his own accent was much worse. What Amadan found most intriguing about the city was its ability to fashion a public culture that transcended all of its varied peoples. They were more than a mosaic of identities, instead, they had to share a new cultural identity. Neither race nor nationality excluded any group from this common ground. The food, the festival, the music were shared pleasures, because somehow a novel ethnicity born of the New World had emerged in New Orleans.<br/><br/>Creole cuisine, jazz and other forms of local music, Mardi Gras — all the famous attributes of the city gave New Orleans a powerful sense of identity, and now Amadan had adopted that identity. Amadan had discovered a vibrant urban folk culture that still actively produced new forms and practitioners. Among the neighborhood restaurants opened by bold creative chefs, the autumnal brass band parades in central city neighborhoods, the young lions of jazz that dominated the local scene as well as the world beyond, he played his violin with the same joie de vivre of the native born New Orleanian musicians around him.<br/><br/>Amadan worked for donations, and sometimes he found the crowd quite generous, but his ability to park himself out in front of a shop and remain there depended on how much the shop owner could withstand of his loitering. None of the other street musicians knew a whole lot about the enigmatic Amadan, except that he was born somewhere in Spain, and was still learning how to become fluent in English. They didn't really care about his demographics, because they didn't matter. They just knew that Amadan played the fiddle better than Charlie Daniels dancing on flames in hell.<br/><br/>They were stunned that Amadan didn't use any sheet music or other cues, and when he played the violin it was like he had the ability to charm snakes. Amadan hung out in front of one of the occult shops today, playing an old gypsy song. The music soared through the air like an eagle on an up-draft, it seemed to collect the very souls of pedestrians that stopped to listen to the music. Amadan wasn't stiff or reserved when it came to playing either, he was far from planting himself in one spot as his upper body swayed and the magic from his bow flowed down into his feet. Amadan's body became an instrument too, his dance moves flowed with a dazzling grace that stole the breath from every person watching him play.<br/><br/>He played almost as if his soul had become one with the music and his emotions merged into his dance. In fact, he was so far into the melody of the Romani song he was playing that the invasive presence of another was almost blissfully ignored. Unbeknownst to the crowd, Amadan was far from human even though he looked as though he belonged to the human race. Not only was he a descendent of the Romanichal gypsies, a pasche-paskero. Cursed with an even darker gift, Amadan had the ability to transform into an eight-eyed, eight legged arachnid with a venomous bite. Amadan was talented with luring humans closer by playing the violin. It gave the spider lurking within him better hunting range.<br/><br/>But right now the spider wasn't hungry, it was curious because it detected the presence of magic in this general area days ago. As his human husk walked the scenic, historic streets of the Vieux Carre, Amadan was amazed at the wide selection of art galleries, antique shops, clothing boutiques, souvenirs as well as the other unique French Quarter mercantile establishments and the gift items they carried in their inventories. As Amadan approached the Lower Decatur, he found a diamond in the rough nestled among the local bars, antique shops, gothic clothiers, vintage boutiques, Jazz clubs, Creole cookeries, and cozy cafes.<br/><br/>An occult shop with lavender and banana colored brush-streaked whitewash, with its coating peeling away like dead skin. Somewhere beyond the dusty mullioned windows, an intense, non-human vibration emanated. It was enough to rattle the spider within him --feeling something similiar, like kin. Amadan had to know for sure if what he felt was real. The melody ascended in a magical flight to the heavens, a breathtaking blend of notes with orchestral exuberance. After the crescendo they dived back down, giddy, until all that was left was silence. The shared journey held the crowd spellbound in rapt silence then a tsunami of noisy clapping followed, until Amadan turned his gaze to the man who'd exited the shop.<br/><br/>What Amadan saw made his breath catch in his chest, and what the man said to make the crowd dissipate make his jaw set with a stubborn edge. But it was the spider's reaction at viewing the male that was the most telling. It sensed immediately that this man wore a human husk too, and that he was in the company of another spider. The mystery of the strange vibe Amadan felt was closer to being solved, as the violin found its place back inside its weathered case.<br/><br/><i>"Hola, señor.</i><b> Sorry to cause you upset, it not my intention."</b>Amadan said, apologetically.<br/><br/>Speaking to the man, who appeared to be the owner of the shop. bought him time. His spider senses extended its own investigative fingers out in the air in a frisson of metaphysical energy, trying to figure out if the man was friend or foe.