He was considered a desperado, a gunfighter who roamed the towns, working for anyone willing to pay. Sometimes he was a bounty hunter, sometimes a cattle rustler, sometimes an assassin. They knew him by his tattoos. On his skin were inscribed the names of each of his victims.

Everyone in town had reason to fear Rufino’s arrival. He could be there for any one of them.

Afterwards, Malcolm found a part of his brain that had never been used before was now actively engaged. In grade school, he had failed to learn even a rudimentary song on the piano. Now music was everywhere.

When it came to natural phenomenon, the wind, breathing, the setting of the sun, he heard their rhythms as a harmonious symphony. Machines and furniture emitted a cacophony of unholy clamor that caused waves of nausea.