My mother could lay a guitar on the floor and forget me for a morning or afternoon. I looked at the other Recital performers with the arrogance that i... our individual practice hours were summed up and compared they would be years in deficit. They cried for toys when they were children; my punishments always involved taking away the guitar.Puking twice in the half-hour before I performed was not a favorable omen. Ms. Smith tried to make light of my clammy, pale skin. She laughed when I looked. I had been half-expecting my old friends the glow worms to appear, but there was no glow, no wavy lines, and no shimmers of air. Noiselessly and instantly, the cat fur, whiskers, and ear changes were gone, replaced with a brown-skinned girl that looked Puerto Rican or Dominican. Even with no makeup and mussed hair, she was extraordinarily attractive. I could see that her face had been the model, if you will, for the quasi-cat face that she had been wearing, but as I looked at her now it was. More

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