The plaza is always crowded; it's the heart of the Land of the Dead and held so many little shops, parties, festivals, competitions and many more events that it was no wonder that it was never quiet. Though Miguel often found himself playing there, he preferred a big fountain encircled by condos and such. It was relatively quiet and hidden away usually occupied by passing alejibre and couples on dates and other artists, painting pictures or writing stories or singing songs. And that's where the teenager was today.
He plucked his guitar and muttered the words he thought up a few days ago to see if they matched up. The song was mostly instrumental and made Miguel test his guitar-skills. He was grateful for that, there were still a few things he wanted to improve of, but then again so did Hector.
Miguel hummed along to the guitar as he did more than just plucking and played beautifully.
"My love is mi familia and my life is full of musica.
Though I have very little, I feel like I have everything.
I hum my tunes, I dance in my shoes, I string some words together.
And led my guitar along as he and I sing…"
Miguel then let his fingers take control and he played the guitar as best as he could. The song was truly beautiful, the instrument playing many different cords and notes and it seemed to entrance anyone that listened. A few people listened; an old couple who were passing by, a few kids who were quietly playing hide-and-seek, and a teenage girl.
The young woman wore a red-plaid crop top that covered her ribs and tied in a little knot. She also wore dirty brown pants and matching hiking boots. Her black hair and in a pixie-cut and she had a belt loosely around her hips that held a long, curved dagger. Her skull was yellow-ish, but other than that her skeleton looked well in shape.
Miguel sang one last verse and let how guitar finish the song gracefully. The couple and teenager clapped politely and the couple walked on. The girl stepped forward to compliment the boy.
"Nice song."
Miguel looked up and smiled. "Gracias." It took a moment for Miguel to realise that he had seen the girl before. He blinked and said slowly, "Discuple… did you… uh, fight on a little wooden stage the other day?"
The young woman smiled and shrugged, trying at stay humble. "Si, only for a little while."
Miguel leaned against his guitar that balanced between his arms and lap and rested his chin on the folded arms. "You were incredible, the way you took down that pendejo!"
The woman sat next to Miguel and giggled a thank you. "Mi nombre es Genoveva."
"Soy Miguel."
The two shook hands and Miguel twindled his guitar for a moment. It looked much like his Papa Hector's guitar, but it was brown and smaller, but the head was decorated as a skull with no gold tooth and white paint was used for the markings and such. Genoveva looked at the guitar, intrigued, and wondered if Miguel was comfortable talking about his family, but decided against it; he probably had enough of stares and questions. Why else would he be here, rather than the plaza?
"So, was that a new song?" Genoveva asked politely.
Miguel nodded. "Si. It still needs some work."
"I thought it was pretty good."
"Gracias." Miguel repeated with a smile that brought out his dimple. "You play?"
Genoveva shrugged. "I like to sing and dance, but I never learned how to play an instrument."
"Wanna learn?"
Genoveva looked up at the boy her age and Miguel was grateful he could no longer blush. He wasn't sure why that question came out of his mouth, but it seemed like a fun idea, and…
Genoveva smiled and Miguel relaxed a little.
"Bueno."
Miguel smiled and handed Genoveva his beloved guitar. She gave a look similar to the one he gave the mariachi all those years ago.
"Show me what you got, muchacho. I'll be your first audience."
Miguel wished he had taken the time in life to thank the man, but knew he would in death one day. That mariachi guitarist was the first person who trusted him with such a delicate instrument and believed he could make it big if he wanted to. To the man, it may have just been a motivational speech carried away, but to the boy, it was everything at that moment. Miguel was grateful to give a moment like that to Genoveva.
She took the guitar carefully and crossed her legs to hold the guitar. Her fingers were gentle on the instrument, but seemed to want to hold the neck like the handle of a weapon, but Genoveva wasn't having it, making her fingers move unnaturally.
Miguel noticed her struggled and moved forward to touch her. "Here… uh…"
Miguel was unsure of Genoveva was okay with being touched or moved, but she nodded her skull, given Miguel permission to teach her any way possible, and so Miguel moved her fingers to hold the guitar properly and Genoveva understood what to do and was grateful that her hands could adapt quickly for the purpose.
The two spent most of the day at the fountain. Miguel taught Genoveva how to warm up her fingers and pick properly before going on to the cords and notes. By the time the sun was setting behind the buildings and making tall shadows throughout the city, Genoveva's bones ached, but she had learned a lot. A far off clock and it's bells told the tennagers that it was five o'clock.
"Great job, amiga!" Miguel praised and put the guitar strap over his shoulder. "But I have to go home."
"Okay. Can I walk with you?" Genoveva asked as she stood up and popped her fingers.
Miguel gave her a puzzled looked, but liked the idea of spending more time with his new friend, so he nodded and said, "Sure, why not?"
Miguel walked on, followed by Genoveva, and it was comfortably easy to talk. It was mostly just small talk and opinions on common things, but it was still nice. When they reached Miguel's street, he said,
"You're doing well on the guitar. I could teach you some more, if you want."
"Bueno!" Genoveva said happily. "It's funny, I've been around for so long and never learned such a common skill."
"How old… I mean, when did you… um, no, I mean…" Miguel rambled on, not sure how to ask, but Genoveva just laughed.
"I died when I was sixteen in 1883 if that's what your asking, amigo."
Miguel stopped walking and gasped at Genoveva. "You're over a hundred years old?!"
Genoveva raised a brow at the young musician. "Does that bother you?"
Miguel shook his hands and said quickly, "No, no, no! I'm just… impressed, is all."
Genoveva smiled and rubbed the top of his head, ruffling his hair. "Good. Who else is gonna teach me guitar?"
She finished with a twirl of Miguel's skull on his neck, like a top, and he laughed and they walked on.
"So, do you want to meet at la fuente tomorrow, or…"
"I pass by here to get there, actually." Genoveva informed and suggested, "We could walk together."
"Sounds great." Miguel said with a smile and the two saw the Rivera sign over the house.
Once again, Genoveva was tempted to make a comment, but bit what was her bottom lip in life, but was now her upper jaw, and she only watched Miguel walked up the stairs and put a hand on the doorknob.
"Buenas noches, Genoveva."
"Buenas noches, Miguel."
They exchanged a quick wave and Miguel walked into his home. He jumped at the sight of nearly every dead family member crowded in the living room, watching him come in, all except for Victoria, who was reading her book on the couch. Miguel noticed that the little crowd was close to the front window.
"Uh… hola." Miguel said shyfully.
"Who were you talking to?" Rosita asked excitedly, her fists shaking with joy by her chin.
"Qué?"
"Esa chica." Imelda pressed, having trouble hiding her own excitement.
"You were watching me?!" Miguel asked, clinging to his guitar strap nervously.
"I wasn't." Victoria said, her skull still in her book.
Oscar and Felipe sneered at her. "Yeah, has the two ran away yet or are they still doomed to…"
"Vete al carajo." Victoria muttered under her breath and buried herself even deeper into her book.
"So…" Hector leaned in, but Miguel wasn't going to play along, so Hector went on. "Who is she?"
"She's that girl I saw at the duel." Miguel answered as he walked by his family and laid his guitar against the couch carefully. "Her name is Genoveva."
"And…" Julio pressed on.
"And?" Miguel asked, turning to his great grandfather.
"And!" Rosita yelped and grabbed Miguel by the shoulders. "What's her favorite color? What's her favorite food? What does she do for a living? Does she have any hobbies? Where is she from? What's her…"
"Cálmese, Rosita." Imelda said sternly with a smile. "The child just met her today."
"Besides, we don't want to ruin his chances." Felipe teased.
"Chances of what?" Miguel asked.
"Chances with Genoveva, of course!" Oscar answered and high-fived his brother.
"Ew, NO!" Miguel exclaimed with a wince. "She's my friend!"
"That's how your great grandfather and I began." Coco said, giggling over her great grandson's reaction.
Miguel shook his head with a small smile he was trying to kill and he walked over to the coat-rack to hang up his hoodie.
Imelda clapped her hands together and rubbed them. "Well, if we want to eat sometimes tonight, Rosita and I must get to work. Miguel, would you mind setting the table?"
Miguel followed the women into the kitchen and he was grateful that his Mama Imelda made them drop it. The entire time the boy sat the table, Imelda watched him carefully. He seemed normal, so no, he didn't like her that way. At least, not yet.
But Imelda was grateful that he finally had a friend in the Land of the Dead. He had a couple of neighbors he could talk to and and his family of course, but the two years Miguel had been dead had been a bit lonely and quiet. He had used the time to get to know his deceased family properly and adjust to the new terrain and accept his faith. He seemed more at home than ever before, and Imelda was glad that he had someone closer to his age to talk to.
There was no more mention of Genoveva until the next morning when Miguel got dressed relatively quickly and rushed to the door with his guitar over his shoulder.
"Be back by dinner, mijo." Coco said to the boy as he opened the door; she was sipping a cup of coffee and listening to Julio read a newspaper on the couch.
"Love you, Mama Coco! Papa Julio!"
Miguel opened the door and saw Genoveva running down the street. He called her name and closed the door behind her, running down the stairs. Genoveva called Miguel name out as Coco, Julio, Rosita, Oscar and Felipe, and Hector watched from the front window. The two teenagers high-fived in greeting and started to walk down the street together and chatted away. The adults watched until they were gone and Imelda and Victoria walked into the living room to see an unusual scene before them.
"Have you nothing better to do than spy on the boy?" Victoria asked as she walked to the couch and sat to resume her book.
They turned from the window and Rosita squealed, "He was just with that girl again!"
"Genoveva?" Imelda asked.
"Si!"
"Oh Dios mío," Imelda huffed with a roll of her eyes. "Miguel isn't going to marry her, you know."
"Life doesn't end when you're dead, mi amor." Hector said wisely and picked up his own guitar. "I think I'll play a bit at the plaza today."
"Be back by dinner." Imelda said and allowed him to kiss her on her cheekbone before he left as well.
Miguel was back for dinner, but Coco and Julio watched and saw Genoveva walking with him. The teenagers called their goodbyes and the adults noted how she watched Miguel enter the home, as if determined he made it safely. They greeted Miguel and tried to cover up the fact that they were spying, but their efforts were fruitless and the boy only shrugged it off and asked how their day went.
For nearly a week, Genoveva walked by the Rivera shoe shop and Miguel joined her. Most of the time they went to the fountain and Miguel had lessons there, but sometimes they ventured on and simply enjoyed journeying around the magnificent city together. Miguel found that he enjoyed and relied on Genoveva's company more and more each day. It was nice to teach what he had learned and to talk to someone closer to his age. Genoveva felt the same way, not having a friend like Miguel in a very long time.
After two weeks of lessons, Genoveva slowly played Chad Vermillion's The Little Fugue in G Minor for Miguel and stopped when she knew no more. They were sitting on the fountain near sunset and Miguel applauded for his friend.
"That was really good, Veva." Miguel praised and took his guitar back.
"Muchos gracias, mariachi." Genoveva replied cheekily. "I have a pretty great teacher."
Miguel only smiled and tuned his guitar. "I have a great teacher, too. My Papa Hector has taught me so much since I've died. Before him I just taught myself."
"I heard rumors that you were good before." Genoveva said before realising what she had said and that her efforts to not talk about Miguel's past had failed. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean…"
Miguel, to Genoveva's surprise, laughed. "It's okay, amiga, I don't mind talking about my first visit here."
Genoveva shrugged sheepishly. "I just guessed you were sick of hearing about it."
"Guess everyone's been thinking along the same lines as you." Miguel responded. "No one in my family has brought it up, and I've been pretty good about not being recognised."
"So," Genoveva said slowly. "You played with your Papa Hector at the plaza? Back then, I mean."
Miguel nodded. There had been many times since his death that they've played together at the plaza, especially when Miguel was new and getting lessons every day, but he understood that Genoveva was talking about their first performance together.
"What's he like?" Genoveva asked, taking a different course than Miguel thought she would.
"My great-great grandfather?" Miguel asked, just to make sure that they were on the same page. Genoveva nodded and Miguel took a moment to think about his answer, wanting to make sure he described his hero in the best way possible.
"He's the greatest man I've ever known." Miguel stated, looking down at his guitar. "He's not perfect; he lies, and you can't trust him to play checkers fairly."
Genoveva laughed, not sure if Miguel was teasing or not.
"He left his family decades ago and then was killed before he could return home." Miguel went on. "And he fought so hard to try to see his family again. Mama Imelda stayed mad at him until my little visit and it looked like he would be forgotten, but he pulled through. He taught me what it means to make a mistake and make it right. We all screw up, but not everyone knows how to clean up their mess."
Genoveva nodded, understanding. Most skeletons knew Hector was murdered and that he was the real musician, but such details were hidden and not worthy of the public eye, wich many respected, including Genoveva. To be told such information and trusted with it, she felt honored.
"He's brave and loyal and patient." Miguel added. "He's a wonderful father and grand father and understands people in a way no else really does. He's my hero."
"He sounds like a great man." Genoveva complimented.
Miguel looked up at his friend and smiled. "Si, he is. Maybe you can meet him someday."
Genoveva shrugged and looked up at the sky. "It's getting dark."
Miguel nodded in agreement and slid off the fountain. "What about you?"
Genoveva stretched her spine and asked, "Me?"
"Si. Who's your hero?"
Genoveva stood with a little bounce from the fountain's edge and started their walk to Miguel's home. "I don't really have one." The young woman said a little too casually for Miguel's liking.
"Really?" He asked cautiously. "No… no familia?"
Miguel knew that some skeletons weren't as lucky as him, to have a family in the land of the Dead and Living, and one that loved him so much. He knew people were orphaned, abandoned, separated, rejected, and forgotten and was always careful and sensitive about it.
Genoveva, however, was poised and calm. "No."
There was no coldness in her voice. No sadness, either. And that's what worried Miguel. She had no emotion, it was scary how normal of a fact that was to her. He was about to comment when Genoveva went on.
"I was raised an orphan and was never adopted, and I died before I could have my own family."
"I'm sorry."
Again, Genoveva only shrugged. "It's not so bad. I always find a way to keep myself entertained. In life, I explored and learned how to fight and had a couple of adventures, and I've kept doing so in death."
"Really?" Miguel asked.
Just like how they never talked about Miguel's past, they never talked about Genoveva's past. All Miguel knew was that she was over a century older than him, but it hardly mattered; she was a teenager of both body and spirit.
Genoveva nodded. "I have a couple of stories myself, amigo. I was born in Ciudad de México and traveled through iLa Selva Amazónica/i and crossed to climb the Cordillera de los Andes."
"Wow, it's amazing!" Miguel awed as they reached to where tall buildings slowly became houses; they were approaching Miguel's street. "You've been everywhere!"
The street was quiet, making it easy for an old musician to hear the two teenagers from the front steps of his home. Hector was polishing his white guitar when he heard Miguel's voice and turned to where the long street bridged the beginning of the large body of water. It was deep and hardly made any difference, but it made a nice little wall for Genoveva to hop on and balance on as the two walked under Hector's undetected watch.
"Well, it's the alternative." Genoveva told her friend. "Never seeing what's out there or taking risks. You only get one life, you have to live it to the fullest. Nothing changes when your dead."
"It sounds exciting!" Miguel said. "I've explored the city a bit…"
"That's good!"
"But I'd like to see more."
"Anyone would." Genoveva rationalized and stopped and looked down at Miguel. "I could show you, if you want. You've shown me so much…"
"It was just guitar lessons." Miguel said, looking away in embarrassment.
But Genoveva shook her head. "No, it's been much more, mi amigo. We could explore the underworld, if you wanted to. Make each day as an adventure! Live our afterlives to the fullest!"
Miguel looked up at her and grinned. "That'd be so cool, but… I have a family, Veva."
Genoveva jumped down next to Miguel and said quickly, "Oh, I don't mean you should pack up and leave everything behind! No! Just, you know, day trips. I promised you'd always be home by dinner."
Miguel laughed and Hector smiled and continued to listen as he polished his instrument.
"I'd like that." Miguel said and the two continued to walk down the street.
Miguel looked up and saw his Papa Hector polishing the guitar with an oily rag, but he knew he was most-likely eavesdropping. Miguel was torn; he could call out his grandfather and tease with him, but that would give Hector the perfect opportunity to embarrass the boy in front of his friend, so Miguel decided to let it go and walked out to Hector politely.
"Hola, Papa Hector!"
Hector looked up and pretended to have just spotted them and waved. "Hola, Miguel. Who's your amiga?"
The pair walked up to the elder and Miguel said, gesturing to his friend, "This is Genoveva. Veva, this is my great-great grandfather, Hector Rivera."
"It is an honor, señor." Genoveva greeted warmly and held out a hand to shake.
Hector shook her hand and gave it a soft kiss. "The honor is mine, niña."
Genoveva looked flattered at the musician's warm greeting and then turned her attention to Miguel. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow…"
"Unless," Hector hinted as he stood and stuffed the rag into his pants-pocket. "You would like to join us for dinner?"
Genoveva blinked in surprise and said, "Are you sure? I'd be more than happy to, but…"
"Then say no more, Señoria Genoveva!" Hector said, pointing to the sky and puffing out his ribs, making the teenagers smile. "You will dine with us and you will have a great time!"
Genoveva laughed and saluted. "Si, señor!"
Hector opened the door and called, "We've got company!"
Genoveva seemed to shrink to half her size in shyness as Rosita ran from out of the kitchen.
"How wonderful!"
She wrapped Genoveva into her signature bear hug and behind her Imelda watched amusingly. The twins and Julio emerged from the hall and Victoria got up from the couch and closed her book. Before the guest was swarmed by greetings and attention she was not used to, she glanced at her friend and spoke clearly without words.
"Help me!"
Miguel could only shrug and give an apologetic look. He motioned to his family and he said enough to calm Genoveva.
"Just go with it."
