Café Lempira

He plays checkers very well

We never would have gone into the Café Lempira if it weren’t for the old man, but when he rasped “Bienvenidos,” and beckoned us toward him with a skeletal arm, Alain jerked his head and darted across the narrow cobblestone street.

I followed, the timeworn stones slick under the soles of my muddy hiking boots. “Alain, man, we’re filthy. Let’s find rooms a…