Manolo’s eyebrows raise when the unfamiliar face approaches him, a little hopeful and a little eager at the same time. If anyone knows the power of music, it’s the guy who put the souls of hundreds of tormented bulls to rest with a single song. The dejection in the poor man’s eyes is impossible to miss, and that alone leaves him more determined to do something for him.

“Yes,” he quickly answers. “That is my home. Are you Marty McFly?”