Amadéo's grandmother, who lived with his family, was on her dying bed, however, so his mother had forbade him to go to this dance. She feared she might die at any moment and she wanted him there, just in case. Amadéo, on the other hand, was young and felt that his grandmother would surely live a few more days. After all, she had been ill for some time now, and his mother was probably just using her as an excuse to forbid him to go to the dance.

       So that evening he snuck away to his cousin Ramón's and invited him to go to the dance despite his mother's admonitions. Ramón accepted even though he felt some trepidation over Amadéo's sick grandmother.

       It was a clear, moonlit, mid-September night, perfect for walking the mile and a half to the dance hall. They arrived at the dance hall in time to hear the musicians warming-up, and tuning their instruments. People were arriving from the surrounding areas. A lot of the people walked, some came by horse and buggy. A very few came by automobile. It was during the Depression, and times were hard, even in these northern communities where they may have had a roof over their heads and enough food, but little money. Some of the men were outside smoking, while the women were already inside, gossiping, no doubt. Some of the men brought some "Peñasco Lightening," a homemade brew, which had quite a kick to it! They passed the jar around. Most of the men took a swallow or two, as they smoked their homemade cigarettes. They felt it gave them courage to dance.

       Someone always got a little too much of the "brew," it seemed, and got rambunctious. Someone would say something offensive to someone and then that someone would shove the offender, and the next thing you knew, a fight would ensue. Sometimes, it would end-up with someone getting stabbed. That is probably why Amadéo's mother didn't like him to attend those dances. She worried that he might be a victim of one of those liquored-up, crazy men and would end-up getting stabbed.

       That's what happened this particular night. Someone insulted someone, then the shoving started, and the next thing you knew, one of them drew a knife and as a group gathered around the two men who were involved in the altercation, Ramón grabbed Amadéo's arm and pulled him aside, "Primo, we should get out of here, I have a bad feeling about this night - ún presentimíento (a premonition)."

       Amadéo agreed, especially since he had come to the dance against his mother's wishes. So they decided it was time to abscond and get on the road back home before they would get involved in something they had no wish to be a part of.

       As they were nearing the little river, all of a sudden, a huge tumbleweed came rolling towards them. They parted to allow the tumbleweed to pass by them. Afterward, they both realized there had not been even a slight breeze. The leaves on the trees were perfectly still! The night was clear as could be, with no sign of a storm. So, why was this tumbleweed blowing their way as if being driven by a strong wind, they wondered aloud? Amadéo and Ramón were in awe, and they started to feel nervous. And, to add to the mystery, no sooner had the giant weed passed them, and they began to hear loud, distinct footsteps right behind them - "tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap." They turned to see who had caught-up with them. To their amazement, no one was there! They picked-up their pace, and the footsteps did the same thing - "tap-tap-tap-tap." They wondered if someone was playing a trick on them. They turned again, but to their consternation, no one was there! This was getting spooky, they agreed. They started to run, and the very audible footsteps ran too! They stopped, and the footsteps stopped as well. They took two slow steps, and "it" took two slow steps, "tap--tap." By now, they had reached the point where they had to separate and each go to their respective homes. Amadéo turned to his cousin Ramón.

       "What are we going to do, Primo? This is really strange."

       "I don't know what to say, Primo," replied Ramón.

       They stood there for awhile, feeling more than a bit unnerved, and finally decided to make a run for it, each to their own home. They didn't live that far from each other.

       When Amadéo arrived home, breathless and unnerved, his mother, Ramóna was waiting up for him to tell him the sad news that his grandmother had died just a rew moments earlier.

       "Oh mama, exclaimed Amadéo sadly, I am so sorry." But now he knew why that tumbleweed had approached him him and his cousin, and haunted them in that manner at the very moment that his grandmother was actually dying, right before midnight. His grandmother was saying good-bye to him in a way that made him feel very guilty for disobeying his mother and going to the dance despite her warnings that his grandmother might die that very night. It was common in the Spanish culture to have a loved one "bid farewell" in some sort of mysterious, unexplained way, i.e., a sudden, unexplained noise, or something like the tumbleweed phenomenon that Amadéo and Ramón had experienced on their way home that night. It was called "La Despedida."