Chapter Three: Panchito's Music Box

Donald drove up to one of those mom and pop diners that you hear about in 1950's film. The chrome, the smoking, the beer, those pink waitress uniforms with white aprons, the robotic smile and mechanical: "How are you doing today?" which can be easily be counted as the most un-humanitarian phrase in the world .

"How are you doing today?" A waitress asked Donald and Panchito as they entered.

"Fine." Donald said, "Table for two please." He said.

"Of course," she said, "right this way." She grabbed two menus and lead them down a long, seemingly endless and wall-less hallway with each table booth being a separate room. The waitress, whose name tag said Lucy lead them to a booth that had tore up seats, an uneven table, and a full ash tray.

The two birds sat across from each other as Lucy handed them the two menus. Panchito immediately handed it back to her.

"Do you already know what you want sir?" Lucy asked. The rooster nodded.

"Oh," Lucy said a bit surprised as she got her little white book and blue pen and began to write down everything Panchito said- which was sadly nothing.

The rooster, understanding that Lucy couldn't understand him, tapped Donald's shoulder.

"What?" the duck asked. Panchito signed for him that he needed him to translate. Donald nodded.

"Alright," Donald said, "go."

Panchito signed rapidly.

"He wants the number two, that's the two pancakes, a side of bacon with scrambled eggs. Water to drink and hold the butter." Donald said.

"Alright and have you decided what you want sir?" Lucy asked.

"Make that two please." The duck said. The rooster and the duck handed Lucy the menus. The waitress walked away towards the kitchen.

"So," Donald said, signing, as he spoke, "tell me about yourself."

Panchito began telling his story.

Apparently he was born in Pátzcuaro, Mexico and grew up with his uncle because his parents were killed.

Drugs do that to people, the rooster said, they make you regret things.

Panchito's best friend growing up was Américo, last time he heard anything of him, Américo was in prison.

The last time he spoke was- never.

"Oh my," Donald said, "how sad."

Panchito nodded and tried his best to cheer himself up. He did this by reaching into his shirt sleeve and pull out a magicians rag. Panchito was also a small time magician at one point too.

The rag was purple, and the rooster held it in his right hand. He looked at Donald and asked if he could put out his hand. The duck in good faith and good heart did so. With the wave of the rag and the look of master skill, a hand held music box appeared in Donald's hands.

"Wow," Donald said in amazement. "It's beautiful."

It was nothing special, there was no ballerina or anything like that but it was just as beautiful. A replica of a 1907 wooden music box that was currently located in The British Museum. Apparently it was the first one made.

"May I?" Donald asked. Panchito nodded as Donald placed it on the table and wound up the knob that played the music.

The instrumental to Frank Sinatra's "I'll Never Smile Again" began to play. The dismal chimes and beautiful pings reflected the rooster's seemingly 24/7 interchangeable moods that he desperately tried to hide from the world: longing and depression.

The waitress came back with their orders.

"Alright gentlemen, here you are, pancakes, a side of bacon with scrambled eggs. Water to drink and the butter has been held."

The rooster smiled and signed a thank you. Lucy smiled and replied back with a you're welcome, the only sign language she knew.

The birds ate their brunch.

It was funny on how similar they ate. They both preferred to attack slowly, eating one thing at a time. Pancakes first, then eggs, bacon last, and then the water.

As they were partaking in the second pancake, a brand new 1944 Oldsmobile. It was cherry red pulled up in the window the birds were sitting in. Panchito and Donald looked over and saw José in the front driver's seat.

The parrot looked up, gave a quick smile and rushed in. He hadn't seen Donald in about three years.

The flew open and que the parrot who pretty much ran a waiter over due to excitement. José vaulted over the booth behind Donald and landed next to him. The parrot then gave Donald a bear hug and shouted:

"Porque se não é o meu velho amigo. Foi demasiado longo e demasiado longe! (Why if it isn't my old friend. It's been far too long and too far away!")

He laughed, forgetting where he was. "Or as you Americans say, what's up!"

Donald smiled, "It you all that to say what's up?"

"Well there was a bit of additional stuff but pretty much." José said as he pulled out a cigar and lit it.

As the parrot took a drag, he saw the rooster, stood up, and extended his wing like arm. "Pardon me Señor Galo, most sincere apologies. Cavalheiro aqui está o meu cartão. (Here you are sir, here is my card)." He pulled out his business card in a show-off way.

It was white, small and said simply: José Carioca, Rio de Janerio, Brasil (The Portuguese spelling of course)

"Você tem um cartão? (Do you have a card?)" José asked.

Panchito looked over to Donald who translated for him. Panchito nodded, pulled out his business card and handed it to José.

"So," José said after he read it, "you can't speak eh?"

Panchito nodded. José sat down.

Lucy came back to check up on everything, "Oh," she said surprised at the parrot sitting there, "would you like anything?"

"Nothing in the way of food ma'am." José answered, "Just water is fine."

"Alright." Lucy said with a smile and turned to the other two. "How is everything?"

"Fine." Donald said. Panchito gave the okay sign.

"Alright then." Lucy repeated with the same smile and walked away.

José looked at Panchito and noticed that the rooster had barely touched his food.

"Hey now, why so glum? Hope is not yet lost."

The rooster looked up at him, he was having a hard time believing it. He signed quickly. Donald didn't catch it, he was too busy looking out the window. Panchito tapped the duck on the shoulder.

"Oh yeah," Donald said, "go ahead."

Panchito signed again.

Donald nodded and turned toward José. "He says that he can't talk because nobody wants him and nobody wants him because he's-"

The duck looked over to Panchito who repeated the last part for him again. Donald quickly signed:

"Are you sure?"

Panchito nodded.

"Nobody wants him because he's Mexican."

"Why does that matter?" José asked.

Donald turned towards the rooster again and asked José's question.

"Because," Donald translated, "the drugs. Mexicans are associated with marijuana now and it's hurting trade, morale, the whole thing is all because of racism and one guy who decided that it was okay. The sad part is, lots of other people do it too: whites, blacks, Asians, but we're the ones who get arrested and shot at for it. It's just not fair."

"That's awful, have you ever been-" José started to say but Panchito cut him off with a nod.

"Once," Donald translated again, "I didn't even touch anything or go anywhere. I was in my house. My own house! I was arrested for suspicious activity and possession. They never found anything but they still found a way to sentence me. I served three weeks in jail, was bailed out by my uncle but now he's in prison."

Panchito reached for his music box, wound up the little key and let it play again.

"I'll never smile again, until I smile at you. I'll never laugh again, what good what it do? For tears would fill my eyes, my heart would realize- that our romance is through. I'll never love again, I'm so in love with you. I'll never thrill again, for somebody new. Within my heart, I know I'll never start, to smile again- until I smile at you. Within my heart, I know I'll never start to smile again- until I smile at you."