The Hawaiian Band: A short story from _Arroyo_ (Momotombo Press)

By Lisa Gonzales

When I laugh about the Hawaiian Band with my sister, Ruby, we’re not laughing about music, although there was plenty of music in our house, and not just from the radio because Ruby and I would sing in harmony. I played the piano—so did our Auntie Lally, her painted fingernails clicking the keys like chips of red bone —and we would sing nearly every night, or have big festas in the front yard where my old avó would play the mandolin so lightly that the music and the breeze seemed to be one, drifting over our bodies in the dark.…

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