” I take another drag from the nearly spent cigarette and stub it out on the concrete wall. “You changed your name.”“Oui. Ain’t no good bein... Cajun here,” he says, his soft patois giving me a shivery thrill just like it did when I was in high school.“And you lost the Creole,” I accuse.“That too,” he agrees.I sigh and lean against the wall, sliding down until my butt hits concrete. “You better go,” I say. “Someone is going to catch up with me sooner or later. You don’t want to be around when. I can see that you are learning some, but even the earliest of them is excellent. The one pastel you sent is really wonderful. Top quality stuff." Thank you." The problem is that you aren't going to sell many horses in pastels. Maybe some of the drawings will sell, but you can't get enough money for them. Not more than a couple of hundred each. You've got to start doing horses in oíls or acrylics. That's the only thing horse people will buy. Clear?" Yes, that's clear, and I agree. But you think. More

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