The Song
But what makes me feel sad, is that I won't be there for you
Oh so sad, that I won't be there for you
And I pray, our new friends can help you through
All the days, 'til you are grown up too
But all I really want to do, is fly with you…
Fly with you…
-Kengah's song, Story of a Seagull and the Cat Who Taught her How to Fly.
She could feel it.
With every minute that passed, La Muerte could feel her strength and life force fade away, going into her charge, nourishing it. It was noticeable, though no one really knew what was wrong with their queen; she was getting weaker and weaker, to the point she couldn't leave her chambers at all. Carmen gave her teas and remedies to see if she could help, but it was no use. Xibalba was very worried for his wife, he feared she had something serious, and it would somehow affect their child; he was afraid that it would be a stillborn, just like their first.
Her baby would be born soon, very soon, and she knew she would leave this world when she did. Only she knew about this, she hadn't the heart to tell her husband about it. So, La Muerte spent the last months of her life with Xibalba, going out on picnics or hanging out with him, knowing she would probably never see him again. Maybe she was being selfish, she knew Xibalba would suffer greatly when she passed, and more if he found out what was happening. Because of this, La Muerte kept this secret to herself.
As she sealed the envelope with the two letters she left for her husband and daughter- for she was certain her child would be a girl-with her characteristic marigold-shaped seal, La Muerte placed her hand on her abdomen, feeling the movements of her baby, her little heartbeat and kicks as she floated dreamily in the darkness of her mother's womb. Not for the first time, La Muerte wished she could have found a way to give her unborn child a form of sustenance other than her own, but she found none.
But if it meant her baby would live, if it meant she would grow up and be a happy little girl, then she'd gladly give up her life. Her only regret? She would not be there for her. She wouldn't be there to see her utter her first word, or take her first steps… The mere thought brought tears to her eyes. Her baby kicked at her mother's hand, as if sensing what was going on through her mother's mind; Toci said babies knew about those things, or rather sensed them.
"Shhh, it's okay, mi bebita…" La Muerte cooed, stroking her abdomen gingerly. "Everything's going to be okay, chiquita. Your papi will take care of you when I…" she sobbed. "When I go…"
Her Balby. How would he take her death? Not kindly, that was for certain. La Muerte knew how much he loved her, more than he ever loved anything else, she was his whole world. His heart, his light, everything. If she died, it would crush him, she didn't want to hurt him so much, but what other choice did she have? None. Xibalba had to take good care of their daughter, he had to; it would be hard for him, but he was strong. He would make it.
La Muerte sat down on her bed and rested her back against her pillows, stroking her abdomen lovingly, like it was the most precious thing in the whole world. For her, it was. The Goddess started humming a little song for her child, a soft tune of old, that sh used to hum for Xibalba during their childhood, when he cried after receiving another beating from his father, or simply when the two of them were relaxing under the shade of a tree. The unborn baby gently squirmed inside her mother's belly, reacting to the tune. She didn't know what was to come.
XXX
Everything was a blur. She had stirred to a harsh pain in her legs, and found her water had finally broken; the time had come. Her screams of pain immediately caught the attention of the Remembered, not fifteen seconds passed before Carmen Sánchez, Adelita and Scardelita, and other female spirits, rushed into her chambers, carrying towels and water. They helped her accommodate on bed and lifted the skirt of the dress, before proceeding to their chores. Labor was very hurtful, she remembered it from her first pregnancy, but this one was even worse.
It wasn't long before Xibalba arrived, storming into the room and holding her hand, despite the outbursts of strength she had everytime the pain flared. He kissed her head and cooed at her, telling her it was going to be alright. If only he knew. She didn't know how much time passed, the pain made it seem an eternity.
"Come on, mi amor, you're almost there." Xibalba whispered, stroking her head with his gloved hand.
"Our baby is sure stubborn…!" Despite the pain, she managed to smile at her husband.
He returned the smile. "Just like her mother..."
"My Lord." Carmen called for the dark god. "May I have a word with you?"
La Muerte knew what she wanted to tell him, she must have realized something was wrong, and she was going to tell him. Xibalba was reluctant to leave his wife, but the seriousness in her voice made him realize something was wrong. Kissing La Muerte's head tenderly, he walked out of the room, following Carmen as the Adelita twins took over. Scardelita wiped her Queen's sweaty forehead with a wet cloth, while the other spirits were wiping the blood and amniotic fluid from the sheets as much as possible. La Muerte grit her teeth at the contractions, but she managed to hear what they were talking about outside.
"She's been in labor for thirty hours, something's wrong." Carmen spoke gravely.
"What do you mean?! Isn't this normal?!" Xibalba retorted angrily, but she could tell there was worry in his voice.
"If she keeps going like this, she might die of blood loss before the baby has even crowned!"
"You mean to tell me they're going to die?! Do something about it! I don't care what, just save their lives!"
"Balby!" La Muerte cried out for her husband. "It'll be fine! I'm going to be okay!" she was lying, but she wanted to reassure him at least for a while.
"She just needs more time-!"
"Tía!" Adelita called for the older woman. "The baby's crowning!"
La Muerte couldn't have been more relived, but as Carmen returned into the room she closed the door shut before Xibalba could get in.
"What the hell?!" he yelled from the other side.
"My Lady, listen carefully!" Carmen said, placing herself between the Goddess's legs, holding a towel. "When I count three, push!"
La Muerte nodded, digging her nails into her bed.
"One, two, three! PUSH!"
A scream of agony resounded through the air as La Muerte pushed, feeling her baby's head struggling to come out, and her blood spiling out of her, making feel deflated to some extent. Tears of pain stung in her eyes and a few streamed down her cheeks; she heard pounding from behind the door.
"What's going on?!" she heard Xibalba cry out in anguish and worry.
"She's losing too much blood! We're losing her!" one of the spirits gasped in shock and horror.
"Milady, get ready!" Carmen said. "One, two, three, PUSH!"
La Muerte screamed again, the pain flaring once again, she swore she had even torn apart her sheets with her bare nails. Xibalba's pounding on the door became louder. "Let me in!"
"Just one more push, milady! One more push!"
La Muerte nodded. It was now and never, the moment she had been expecting with eagerness, even though she knew what would happen.
"One, two three, PUSH!"
With a final push and a scream of pain, the Goddess felt all of her strength and energy zap away in an instant, as she felt the bump between her legs come out; but a warm feeling overcame her heart despite the agony when she heard a tiny wailing coming from Carmen's arms. "It's a girl, mi señora." La Muerte smiled tiredly; she had been right, her baby was a niña, a beautiful niña.
"LA MUERTE!"
Much to everyone's surprise, Xibalba burst through the room, his eyes set on his wife, ignoring the bloody mess of towels and his newborn child. He immediately flew to her side and grabbed her hand tightly. "Mi amor! What's wrong?!"
She was exhausted, she was dying, but she lifted her gaze to meet that of her husband's. "Ay, Balby…" La Muerte whispered, with some difficulty to even breathe. "I think I'm not going to make it."
She caught the wave of shock and fear in his face as his hold on her hand became tighter. "No, don't say that, mi amor! You just need rest, you'll be fine!"
"Mi Balby…" she smiled sadly, lifting her hand and touching Xibalba's cheek, the tarry skin she knew and loved so much; it would be the last time she touched it. She recalled when he would melt with a mere touch of her hand, but now he didn't. "Take good care of our pequeña, would you?"
"Please, mi corazón, don't leave me again! I'd die without you!"
La Muerte could see tears forming in his eyes. She'd never seen him cry, the last time was when they were children, but ever since he never shed a single tear. He was pleading her to stay, but he knew she couldn't do anything. And it hurt him. He didn't want to be alone again, he didn't want her to leave him for a second time, this time for good. It broke her heart. She squeezed his hands reassuringly, to make him know she understood.
"You'll be fine, Balby. You have a strong heart. You've always had it, mi vida."
By this time, he was already crying, and he brought a hand to her cheek, as if trying to feel her remaining warmth before it faded away. La Muerte felt the cold leather of his glove on her sugary skin, and she snuggled her face into it. "La Muerte…" his voice was pleading and broken. "Please… Stay with me… What am I going to do without you?"
La Muerte realize she was running out of time, she only had a few minutes left before death claimed her. "Balby, could you do one last thing for me?"
"Anything! If it will save your life, I will do anything!"
Xibalba was still hopeful that there was a way to save her; he had already entered in the denial estate, and she hadn't even died yet. Was he so desperate?
La Muerte felt her eyelids heavily, she battled against it, she tried to stay awake for a bit more.
"Would you kiss me one last time?" she pleaded. If she was to leave this world, she wanted to taste her husband's lips for the final time.
"Mi amor…"
Xibalba kneeled down next to his wife, and their lips joined together for the last time. La Muerte tasted Xibalba's tarry, cold lips that she had come to love so much. Her whole life with her Balby flashed through her mind; their childhood together, the good memories, their dates, their games, their wedding, and the nights of passion and love. Once they pulled back, La Muerte quickly looked around the room, hearing her child crying for her. Carmen was holding the baby tightly, all swaddled in pink blankets.
"Señora Carmen…" La Muerte could barely speak now. "Please, let me see her…"
Carmen quickly came closer to her on the opposite side of bed, holding out the wailing infant; La Muerte smiled tiredly, tears of joy rolling down her cheeks as she saw her baby for the first and only time. She was truly beautiful, with sugar skin and dark hair like her own, but with dark wings like those of her father. How it pained her to leave this beautiful child behind!
"Mi bebé…"
La Muerte gathered the last of her strength, and planted a kiss on her baby's forehead; the child's wails turned into sobs at the feeling of her mother's lips, until she fell asleep. That moment, her chest brewed up with happiness, her heart leapt with joy at the sight of her little one peacefully napping.
She had the perfect name for her child, for her little flower.
"Her name is Marigold."
Those were the last words she spoke, before everything went black…
It was quiet.
It had never been so quiet down there. So painfully, suffocating quiet.
Xibalba was sitting on the edge of his bed, his wings drooped against the mattress, his back arched down heavily. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he stared down sadly at a marigold flower in his hands; it was one of the flowers his beloved, his Muertita once used to adorn her dark hair. His tears dropped unto the petals of the flower like rain, as his red skull pupils fixed unto it, further augmenting his pain.
Xibalba stroked one of the petals of the flower like it was La Muerte's skin. Staring at it hurt, and yet he couldn't remove his gaze off it. The colorful flower was of the few things he'd ever have as a memento of La Muerte, before death claimed her from him. That was two and a half weeks ago, and just a few days ago he finally bonded with his newborn daughter. He no longer blamed her for what happened, deep down he had known from the beginning it was not her fault; but he was blinded by grief and despair. Xibalba closed his eyes and smelled the flower; it was still fresh, and it radiated her perfume like it was part of it.
It was like having a small part of La Muerte with him.
A sudden sob coming from Marigold's cradle caught his attention and brought him back to reality, from his pain. The dark god stood up from his bed, and placed the flower on a beautiful crystal vase on his bedside table, lovingly kept as a memento of his wife. Xibalba then slid towards the cradle and took a peek to see what was bothering Marigold; soon her sobs turned into wailing, as she struggled in her swaddling blankets, her wings flapping from underneath, tiny tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Shhh, sh-sh-sh." Xibalba bent down and picked up his baby, cuddling her close to his chest, bouncing her in his arms. "No llores, mi florecita. Aquí estoy." When her wailing didn't cease, he walked towards his rocking chair and sat down, all the while cooing and trying to shush his daughter. He had an idea to what was bothering her so much. "You miss your mamá too, don't you? Papi misses her very much too." He wiped a tear rolling down her cheek. "But it's okay, I'll make you happy, mi pequeña. I promise."
Marigold looked up at her father, and noticed he was crying too, thought she didn't understand why. She simply brought up her hands to his cheeks and wiped the tears curiously, cooing a little. Xibalba smiled at her and grabbed her little hand, making her instinctively close her tiny fingers on his.
However, Marigold soon started to sob and wiggle in her father's arms once more time. Xibalba thought for a moment, before he started to sway the rocking chair with his wings. Instead of singing, however, Xibalba started humming; the same little song his wife would often hum to Marigold when she was pregnant with her, or to him when they were kids; even as adults sometimes she used to hum that little tune for him.
When Marigold heard the song, she immediately soothed down upon realizing she had heard it before. She couldn't remember when, only that she had, and she liked it; Marigold snuggled into her father's embrace, seeking the protection and warmth of his arms. Xibalba smiled once more as he watched his little one go back to sleep, caressing her cheek with his thumb, but he continued humming long after she fell asleep, recalling the many times he'd heard that song.