In the tiny village of Caperucita Roja, Mexico, in a plaster-cracked alley, there's a wall.
Hidden beneath a burst of bougainvillea, it's painted with a picture of nine running wolves.
The image is faded nearly invisible, but the right words can turn the wolves loose-and once set free, they can't be called back.
A thousand miles north, in Santa Teresa, California, the beach pavilion is in full swing.
The oceanfront is overflowing with cold bourbon and hot neon, and the Mills Brothers are headlini.