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A pheasant-like bird called the chachalaca still perches on the Mexican plumeria tree with its delicate white blossoms.

“It’s better than dressing up like a chachalaca,” I say quietly.

The loudmouthed chachalaca birds once were natural sentries, but most had been shot by the son of a neighbor whom Rios suspects of smuggling.

I retired to the patio early, retreating to a book, hummingbirds, a rufous-headed chachalaca wandering the railing and a heavy thunderstorm.