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<br/>​</div><div style="text-align: left">All of the preparations for a wonderful evening of worldly cuisines and entertainment were underway, and the celebration was in full swing. There were flag displays, children's games from around the globe, face painting and arts and crafts for the little ones, since the event was open to the public and Casa Marianella relied on the goodness of donations from the community in order to stay afloat. Parents escorted their little ones that were not on the list of performers to a child care area, and returned to eat and take part in the festivities without the burden of correcting their offspring for being children.<br/>
<br/>
Amadan preferred to eat food that was already processed for him, broken down or reduced to sludge, so he naturally gravitated towards food at the table that was soft in texture and easy for him and his eight-legged companion to metabolize, and he ate plenty of it in order to not have Phoneutria <i>nigriventer </i>create a building full of havoc or gorge itself on the wonderful crowd that had come to join in their celebration.<br/>
<br/>
Amadan was a wonderful musician.<br/>
<br/>
Impressive without the pretentiousness that a symphony concertist would have displayed, but remarkable as a violin soloist. He possessed amazing technique, stunning musicality and fabulous artistry, all of which were amply displayed. For the residents and guests of Casa Marianella, it was a pleasure for them to watch Amadan step forward and assume the spotlight. His handsome good looks, and dark-eyed gypsy charm were evident as he made his instrument sing. A treat for their ears, it was Tony Deschenes' first time hearing Amadan play, and observe how he captured the lyricism of his piece wonderfully.<br/>
<br/>
And his playing wasn't limited to just standing still while plucking the strings or drawing his bow back and forth. Amadan got into the rhythm of the music, whether it was tapping his feet or dancing around to the high energy melody in front of everyone. Not a shred of momentum was lost as he showed off his innate technical skills to the fullest. Amadan's playing wasn't just all show, there was real substance to his playing as well as depth and insight. It was, in short, quite an amazing performance that rightly thrilled the audience both sitting and clapping along, but dancing too. He finished with a gleam of perspiration on his brow, and a polite bow.<br/>
<br/>
Instead of addressing the residents with a standard measure of gratitude in the Spanish language, he spoke in the Romani dialect. "Nais tuke," he replied, before taking his seat while the front of the room was set up for the next presentation.<br/>
<br/>
Spoiler<br/>
<br/>
All of his friends were quite pleased with the way he played the violin, and a traditional Romani wagon song of his heritage. Amadan's sparkling orbs were still dancing, as he sat down beside Tony once the dancing stopped. "You dance very well, An-to-nee. You like my song, then? I will be playing another in a little while. I look forward to seeing you dance some more. It is good to dance, and have good time." Amadan replied, still holding his weathered violin and the bow in hand.<br/>
<br/>
He smiled when he heard Tony mention how fortunate Casa Marianella was to have him, and how grateful he was to have been invited to come for their communal meal and cultural celebration.<br/>
<br/>
"I very happy you come tonight, An-to-nee. There is more, see?" Amadan gestured to little Samira who had changed into a traditional Hindi costume in a hot pink shade with a matching saree, to perform <i>Nachde Ne Saare</i> for everyone. Kelsey turned on the music that accompanied<br/>
<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DNHnAjj2K-VM&amp;hash=e857d35908ce2d519859b18e7d345a48" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NHnAjj2K-VM" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Samira's dance</a> The bollywood sounding tune was vibrant and cheerful, as the young girl used her saree as a prop while whirling around on the floor to her choreography. Amadan had to place his violin back in the case, in order to keep up with the clapping in unison to the beat of the music.<br/>
<br/>
Her mother was extremely proud of Samira, and everyone gave the child a round of applause as the dance ended, and she went to the ladies room to change. A chair was placed in the center of the floor, no accompanying music this time. Another string player, this time Tariq on mandolin as his little sister, Fatima, sang the song <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DdTaWGoy9eJs&amp;hash=0bbeeaa440b90878c83e75a334dba7eb" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dTaWGoy9eJs" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Atouna el Tafouli,</a> a song of Syrian children torn from their homeland by war. Tariq's elegant fingers plucked the melody from the air as Fatima's reedy sounding, childish voice was haunting. The pair played their hearts out as they described their brokenness. Amadan was the first one to rise and applaud for them, others following suit. There wasn't a dry eye in the house.<br/>
<br/>
"We have so much talent here, everyone, as you can see," smiled Kelsey. "You've outdone yourselves, next up is Fernando on acoustic guitar."<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey removed a chair, leaving one for Fernando who appeared with an Ibanez acoustic-electric guitar strapped over his shoulder. He sat down, and smiled to the residents. "Try to keep up with me Amadan," Fernando winked. "This is a song called <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DIH8DKITGZEY&amp;hash=c3861b6781f1a0688a736ad840e9f2de" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IH8DKITGZEY" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Shabhaye Tabestan.</a>" his chocolate depths gleamed, laughing as his lightning bolt fingers hammered out a melody so fast that even the metronome at 120 beats per second would have difficulty keeping up to Fernando's pace on the guitar's fretboard.<br/>
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Amadan's lips formed a smirk as Fernando's fingers flew along the guitar strings, knowing that his friend just challenged him to a guitar-violin duel, he was game and already devising in his head what he'd play for everyone since he was the one closing out the talent show. He did find Fernando's aptitude for guitar picking amazing, and everyone in the room was transfixed to the music that was pouring out of the guitar. As rapidly as the song progressed to the bridge, it reached a climactic ending, and even Amadan had to admit that Fernando knew his way around a guitar.<br/>
<i><i>But a violin? No way in hell was Amadan going to refuse a challenge like this</i>. Everyone was in the spirit of the evening, a round of applause given for the Mexican man, and one of Amadan's friends.</i>​</div><br/><div style="text-align: left"><br/>
"I hope you bring change of underwear my friend," laughed Amadan, his comment aloud to Fernando making others in the audience laugh. Turning to Tony as he removed his violin and bow from the case with a flourish, "Get ready to dance again An-to-nee, I play now."<br/>
<br/>
Up to the front of the room he walked, long limbs swinging as he gracefully turned around and gazed upon the others with a smile of confidence. As Amadan settled his violin against his jaw in the chin rest, he drew his bow against the strings, as he played a <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D0dfZ9BXaNyE%26list%3DPL0805FB61D7503BC2%26index%3D23&amp;hash=d6e3c828cdfc1f4905faadcbddb3de8e" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0dfZ9BXaNyE&amp;list=PL0805FB61D7503BC2&amp;index=23" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">seductive, otherworldly, fast-paced melody</a>. If Amadan had been the <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.patriotinstitute.org%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2016%2F12%2Fpied-piper-bridge1.jpg&amp;hash=bc0ec999d56f55b505e497787b20bb14" href="http://www.patriotinstitute.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/pied-piper-bridge1.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Pied Piper of Hamlin</a> of the violin, all the the children in the child care area would have followed him to their doom with the rapid tempo he performed at. His eyes shone with the concentration required of a skilled musician of his ken, and a little something else tucked away in the recesses of his dark eyes.<br/>
<br/>
The spider lurked behind twin obsidian orbs, observing Tony and the others with its multi-faceted gaze, longing to be set free of its prison of human flesh. The song crescendoed, rising and falling in volume and pitch like a harmonic roller coaster ride that left its passengers completely breathless and on their feet, in total awe at the prodigy in their midst. The sound of applause sounded like a thunderstorm in his ears. The spider stretched, pleased to have a little breathing room as his human counterpart's blood pressure rose with the sudden feeling of exhilaration and yearning for the man who'd come to watch tonight.<br/>
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<i><i>Tony Deschenes. His old friend.</i></i>​</div><br/><div style="text-align: left">​</div>