Arrival

It came unexpected. A sharp pain in his stomach. At the time, he no idea what was going on; why the strange pain was spreading from his stomach to everything else in his body. At this point, he figured he was going to throw up. But he didn't. Instead, unbeknownst to him, the poison was in his blood stream, heading straight for his heart. He was starting to lose consciousness.

'No!' he thought. 'I have to make it home! My wife, my daughter, they need me! It can't end like this!' But it was too late. Héctor felt his body going numb, right before blacking out and collapsing on the cold pavement.

Not long after, he began hearing voices above him. But instead of startling him it just confused him. 'Wait, wait, wait... I thought I was dead? Am I in the hospital? Dios, what's happening to me?' he tried to open his eyes, but it was painful to do so. So, he decided to focus on what the voices were saying.

"How long is he going to be out like this?" one voice said.

"Who knows? Have you found a name yet?" asked another. There were sounds of pages being flipped.

"Says here his name is Héctor Rivera, age 21. He has living family in Santa Cecilia, Mexico. A wife and daughter."

"What about in the Land of the Dead? Is anyone there to welcome him. Make the transition easier?"

At that, Héctor grew even more puzzled. 'Land of the Dead'? 'Transition'? 'What in Dios' name was going on? The voices continued.

"No. Says here he's an orphan. He never knew his parents in life so they experienced the Final Death before he turned 18."

"How sad. He'll have to go through everything alone. And on top of that, he died prematurely. He has a rough road ahead of him.

Finally Héctor managed to open his eyes. Whoever thought he died must have been wrong. Dead people don't wake up. Boy these two were in for a surprise.

"How do you think he'll react?"

"Ten pesos says he's one that freaks out."

"I think he'll faint first."

When his vision cleared, he realized he was in what looked like a hospital room. He was lying in a bed with a blanket over him. Chairs were to his left. Both floors and walls were white. He turned to the right where the voices came from. There, dressed in business wear were two...

"SKELETONS! Aaahhhh! Get away from me!" Héctor backed up against the wall behind him.

"You owe me ten pesos." said the one with the tie, dress shirt, and slacks.

"Not yet I don't." said the one with the blazer and skirt. "You said he'd freak out. You never said 'why'."

"Very well, double or nothing on his transformation?"

"You're on!" The female turned to Héctor and began speaking calmingly. "There, there, Señor Rivera. You've had a rough night. We're not going to hurt you, ok?"

"No! It's not 'ok'! I need to go home and see my family! Instead I'm having a stupid, drunken, nightmare!"

"He thinks he's dreaming Maria. Give him the mirror."

"I have a better idea. Ok, Señor Rivera. I'm just going to check to see if you have phantom pains." The esqueleta reached out a bony hand towards Héctor. Héctor pressed himself as far as he could against the wall. She lifted up his mariachi jacket and stuck her hand where his stomach should have been.

It hurt when she did. A lot. But why? Héctor knew pain didn't exist in the realm of sleep. He should be waking up now. Unless, he was already awake and had been the whole time.

"This isn't a dream, is it?" He asked. Both skeletons shook their heads. "Then where am I? And who are you?

"You're in the Land of the Dead." The man explained.

"We are here to help welcome you to the Land of the Dead, and help you accommodate to your new situation." Maria continued.

"What are you talking about?" Maria took the mirror and handed it to Héctor. Héctor reached out for it but then caught a glimpse of something not right. Moving his digits he realized in horror that the bony hand he was staring at was his own. He jerked to look at his other hand. It too was skeletal. He flung off the blanket. Two bony feet stuck out of his pants legs. He snatched the mirror, dreading what he would see. Sure enough, his reflection was not what he normally saw. In the mirror, looking as mortified as he felt, was a skull with his shaggy dark hair and goatee! The skull had eyes that would blink and move as his own did!

"I'm a skeleton!"

"Now you owe me 20 pesos." said the man.

"A bet is a bet, Rico." said Maria, handing him his winnings.

"Look, guys I don't want to be a skeleton. So can you change me back so I can go home?"

"Can we even do that?"

"No." said Rico. "Once you are dead, you stay dead. There's no way around it."

"You mean, I'm going to be like this for the rest of my life?" Héctor asked, shocked.

"Death, actually." Maria elbowed Rico and gave him a 'shut up or else' look.

"Rico!" She softened before looking back at Héctor. "Señor Rivera, please, you have to remain calm. The doctor said around 8:00pm you should be ready to walk down to Customs so they can prepare a temporary home for you. Unfortunately, you have only 3 years for your family to put your photo up on their ofrenda or you'll be moved to Shanty Town. Rico, has the police notified the living family of his death?"

"Hmmm." Rico frowned. "He hasn't been reported dead or missing yet. And his body has yet to be found."

"But that's impossible!" The skeletons turned their attention towards Héctor. Surprised he cleared his throat and continued. "When I d-di-die..."

"Died?"

"Yeah, that." Héctor said, not comfortable stating the obvious. "My friend Ernesto was there. He was walking me to the train station."

"So he witnessed your death? Then why didn't he report it to the authorities?"

"No one is going to know that, Rico."

"Sure would make our job easier if someone did."

"You know as well as I do that the living can't interact with the dead."

"They can't?" Héctor asked. Maria sighed and patted his hand. He jerked away, before remembering he was a skeleton now too.

"Relax, Señor, eh, Héctor. If they put your photo up, then you can see them on Dio De Los Muertos. They won't be able to see you but you can see them and take the offerings they leave for you."

"So I will have to live here, in a world of strangers, until my family dies too? They'll have to die in order to see me again? Will they even recognize me?" He got out of bed and carefully walked to a full sized mirror across the room. Looking at his full reflection for the first time, he realized just how little he looked like himself. His big ears and nose were always the butt of the joke when someone was teasing him or trying to put him down. Even Ernesto, who was his best friend would laugh about them sometimes. His wife had always told him that his large facial features were what made him him and that he should never be ashamed of them. His daughter would reach up and touch them with tenderness whenever he held her close. But now he was a skeleton. And skeletons did not have ears and noses. All through life he hated the way they made him look. But now that they were gone, he regretted it. "Just look at me. I'm like some sad stick figure." He said, slowly sinking to his knees. The sobs of a broken man could be heard from across the room.