Miguel was like, the best big brother ever. His abuelita Elena had told him so several times. Ever since little Socorro had been born she'd been his shadow dogging at his heels. And he was more than eager to have her around and show her his world of music. She would be the first Rivera in generations to not grow up with melody banned from her. And Miguel was eager to help her grow up.
And so it was that this night, like many nights before, he had his little sister next to him in the courtyard while he thought of lyrics to his next song. The July air was warm with the gentle tickle of a breeze ruffling the pages of his song book.
He had been immensely proud of his last song, Proud Corazon, and had jumped at the chance to play it on the holiday in November. It seemed perfect considering his adventures last year had inspired it. He hoped Héctor had liked it.
He hoped Héctor was around to like it.
Miguel sighed and looked up from his song book. Little Socorro was crawling around his feet towards the opened gates to the compound, he spared a moment to lift her and turn her around so that she was crawling the other direction and away from the street.
He still had no idea if Héctor had made it. Miguel had tried, he really did. When Mamá Coco had begun to sing with him he felt his heart leap. He listened to all her stories eagerly. He even wrote them down! (And he tried extra hard to make his handwriting more legible than usual).
But he just didn't know.
Just couldn't know.
He had tried a few ways. His first order of business on Día De Los Muertos had been to stop by the cemetery and see if he could find the bridge. To no success. Hoped as he might that by some miracle he would be able to see his family when he crossed over, the only people he could see were the living. He had been entertaining a thought, that just maybe by some weird affect from last years curse he would be able to see them. But he wasn't that lucky.
He had even tried stealing an item off the ofrenda after he had finished setting it up. But no curses. Which normally would be good, one shouldn't go seeking out getting cursed after all. But still Miguel felt a large wave of disappointment.
A tapping on his knees drew Miguel out of his pity party. His little sister looked up at him with bright eyes and raised arms. Miguel smiled and pulled her up in to his lap. "Come on Coco." He grinned, tickling her stomach and watching her squeal with glee.
Her little grabby hands reached for his song book. "Hey be careful with that!" Her brother laughed while she flipped through the pages. A small piece of paper had floated out of the leafs of the book.
Miguel snatched it before it could flutter away on the wind. Cocos hand joining his as she tugged his wrist (and the photo) down to her eye level. "It's our familia." He smiled freeing his wrist from his sisters grasp and pointing towards the faces in the picture he had photo copied. As soon as he had fixed the photo, carefully taping back in his abuelos head, his first port of order had been to march down to the library and use his allowance to pay for use of their copy machine. He would make sure his family was never forgotten and he was not want to risk losing their photo again. It had been a minor miracle his Mamá Coco had saved the torn off part of the family picture. He wasn't sure what he would have done if all photos of Héctor had been lost forever. And he wasn't about to risk that happening again.
"See that's Mamá Imelda. I know she looks kinda scary but actually she's really nice." He leaned in to whisper this part as if it was a deep secret. "Don't tell her I told you, but she gives the best hugs."
Even though he was fairly positive his little sister didn't understand she still giggled at his words.
"That's your great grandma Coco!" Miguel pointed to the little version of his grandmother in the photograph. "You're named after her. She's the best." He smiled looking down at his sister. He couldn't help but think they also kind of looked alike. He made a mental note to say as much in his letters for his family next Día De Muertos.
He'd have to include some photos too.
(Man he really needed to start keeping a list for these things.)
"And that-" Miguel began, pointing to the last person in the photograph "is Papá Héctor!" His fingers traced over the ghost of the tear marks in the photocopy. "He's a famous musician! He sings the best songs and he's REALLY funny. He wrote the song I sing to you every night."
Little Coco just giggled and played with his fingers while he talked. Miguel smiled "I'll tell you a secret, even though he died a long long long time ago, I met him last Día De Muertos."
Coco made an unintelligible sound.
"No no it's true!" Miguel insisted. "See, I stole Papá Héctors guitar, well ok I didn't know it was his guitar. I thought it was De La Cruz's guitar….. who I thought was our great great grandfather. Don't give me that look, it was a crazy night." He scolded, though Coco had given no look in particular at all to him. "Anyways, I got cursed! And went to the Land of the Dead! I met Papá Héctor and we had an amazing adventure trying to get me home! We met Frida Kahlo, performed on stage, and road on Mamá Imelda's alebrije Pepita! She's this GIANT cat… panther… dragon thing. She's really cool! Kinda scary though, sorta like Mamá Imelda come to think if it."
Miguel smiled and took the photo and put it back in his song book before latching it closed. "I was really hoping I'd get to see them this Día De Muertos, but I guess not." He sighed ruffling his sisters hair.
"Un un!" His sister gurgled pawing towards the neck of his guitar that was strung across his back.
"Wanna hear me play?" The boy asked.
Coco only made more grabby hands, which he took to mean a yes.
Miguel laughed and tucked his song book away in his pocket before setting his sister down next to his feet. "Ok ok if you insist!" He said with a dramatic sigh. "Hm what do you want me to play?" He asked as he twisted the knobs and plucked a few strings to test the tune.
Coco giggled and tilted her head to the side.
"Ah yes! Perfect idea Coco!" The musician smiled. His fingers easily found the frets and his right hand began to strum.
"Remember me…" he began softly "though I have to say goodbye."
The soft sounds of the guitar carried through the air. Miguel closed his eyes as he kept strumming, feeling the music flow through his soul. He imagined his Papá Héctor by his side playing with him.
Remember me
Don't let it make you cry
For even if I'm far away I hold you in my heart
I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart.
Remember me
Though I have to travel far
Remember me
Each time you hear a sad guitar
Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be
Until you're in my arms again
"Remember…. me…." His voice finished. And no he wasn't crying.
Ok maybe he was crying a little.
"You gotta promise not to tell anyone I cried Coco…" he laughed opening his eyes and wiping a tear away. "Coco?"
Coco was not in fact next to him like he thought she was. Instead she was quickly waddling her way out the front gate of the court yard.
"Coco!" Miguel shouted, slinging his guitar back over his shoulder. "Socorro get back here!"
His sister only giggled and decided this was now a game of chase, and picked up speed in a toddlers imitation of a run. She dashed out of the front walkway and was into the street by the point Miguel began to catch up to her.
"Coco no, come on that's not saf- COCO!"
He heard the sound of an engine. A car rounded the corner, headlights off and going too fast. His world froze as he saw the scene play out in his head about what was about to happen. His baby sister.. The car…
Miguel didn't think.
He jumped.
He flew in front of the car, arm outstretched and reaching, reaching, he had to make it. Had to be close enough to reach her. The roar of the engine echoed in his ear. Pounding and pounding, so loud it drowned out the scream he felt erupt from his chest.
His hand just barely made it as he managed to push, fingertips brushing against her back as she fell forward and away from his grasp
He watched her tumble to safety and she let out a cry when her knees hit the pavement. Miguel didn't have time to feel relief before a massive wave of pain slammed into him.
And then there was nothing.
And then, there was something again.
First there was the pain.
It was everywhere, it was strong, it was horrible.
He tried to take in a breath, only to feel like his lungs were full of water. A strong throbbing spread through his chest and up into his shoulders. His left hand felt broken, and his legs felt shattered.
But then in the space of a breath, it faded. He willed his lungs to work as they pulled in a deep breath of air, and the pain all faded to a duller, but still present, ache throughout his body.
Though it still felt worse in his legs and hand.
Where… where was he?
He cracked one eye open slowly, and then the other. And then, he knew.
He was stood alone on a bridge of bright orange flower petals.
"Oh." The word brushed past his lips
Instinctively he looked down to his hands, and met with the (weirdly enough kinda familiar) sight of bones.
"Oh." He whispered again.
Even though he didn't have a heart, he felt like he could still feel it break.
He was… he was… he couldn't think the word.
Not now. Not yet.
The petals fell like snow from the nothingness, landing softly around him and in his hair. The bright color of the bridge the only thing cutting through the vast abyss of dark emptiness around him.
He shuffled his feet in the flower petals, watching as they glowed faintly where he stepped. He could see that his pant legs were torn, and a quick inventory told him that his jacket and shirt weren't in the best of shape either. His boots looked pretty good though. That's what you get with quality Rivera family products.
And then his heart sank again.
His family.
The boy sank to his knees in the petals and let out a loud sob into the blackness around him.
His Mamá… Papá, Abuela… his tíos y tías… his cousins Abel and Rosa… he wouldn't see them again.
His sister.
Miguel clutched desperately at his chest, where his heart should be, where it wasn't. But he could still feel it ache. He felt as if he wanted to rip it to stop the loss he was feeling.
But he couldn't.
He was dead.
His breaths came heavy and quick, which felt like a bit of an oxymoron under the circumstances. He wasn't sure exactly how long he sat there sobbing.
The road of petals lay out before him, raining down and landing to form the bridge he was on. He looked back briefly and saw only nothingness.
He couldn't go back. Not tonight at least. Not till Día De Los Muertos.
God… Día De Los Muertos. Who would put up the photos? No one would know to lay out special gifts for the deceased Riveras… he wouldnt get to hold his sister and tell her about their family.
Miguel shook his head. He couldn't think about that right now.
Oh he wanted to. He wanted to wallow in his self pity for a moment, to cry and cry and let his tears soak through the flowers.
He gathered his gumption and forced himself onto his feet. That could wait.
He fixed his eyes ahead on the marigold bridge in front of him. Carefully he held out a hand and caught one of the drifting flowers. He rubbed it between two skeltal fingers, surprised he could still feel how silky and soft it was.
No petals infused with blessings this time.
Miguel let go and watched the flower cascade down until it joined the rest at his feet.
He wanted to cry… but what he wanted more, was his familia.
His Papá Héctor.
A realization struck him. He felt around his pocket, and sure enough, his song book was neatly tucked away. He reached down and pulled it out, quickly undoing the latch and pulled out his copy of the photograph that sat upon the ofrenda.
Despite everything, the thought of seeing them again- his Mamá Imelda and Mamá Coco… Papá Héctor.. That thought was enough to almost make him smile.
Almost.
He tried to force his mind to think on the good things, like playing music with his grandpa.
Wait…
He lifted his hand to his chest again and let his fingers feel across the guitar strap slung across him. Carefully he shifted the guitar forward, rather surprised the instrument had traveled with him into the afterlife. (even more surprised he hadn't realized it until just then too)
It looked in excellent condition, which was… a bit strange considering the state of the rest of him. Miguel silently hoped the version of the guitar in the living world had escaped unharmed too. His fingers brushed lightly across the strings and up the frets, pausing to look at how his ivory hands matched it in color and style now. He supposed his face did to. Though thankfully he was pretty positive he didn't have a gold tooth to make the comparison complete.
He gave a little nod for himself and swung the guitar across his back again. He squared his shoulders and grasped the guitar strap across his chest. He first took one step… and then another. As he walked the petals glowed around his feet and he left little bright footprints in his wake. He turned his head to see the petals drifting away and disappearing behind him when he moved. The bridge gradually arched downwards, and soon enough he could see a platform ahead of him, a large tiled sign with the word "ARRIVALS" written across the top.
It was empty, save for a single booth manned by a skeleton.
As he got closer he saw she was looking down at… a magazine? Huh.
Well, he supposed that besides Día De Muertos it was probably pretty quiet.
When his feet touched the stone of the platform he turned to watch the bridge evaporate behind him, petals floating up into the air in a golden swirl.
"Oh! Oh dear!" A voice squeaked from the arrivals desk.
Miguel turned back around and looked to the skeleton in front of him.
"You're… a new arrival?" She asked closing her magazine and standing up, leaning over her counter to look at him.
The boy saw the look of pity in her eyes and felt an unease growing in the space where his stomach used to be. He wondered how many people were going to look at him like that.
"Y-yeah…" he whispered, voice timid and quiet compared to usual.
"Ay dios mío… how old are you dear?" The woman asked.
Miguel looked up at her "Thirteen…" he said.
The skeleton womans face sank into a devastated expression. Miguel quietly wondered how many in the Land of the Dead were like him. He understood why she looked at him that way, but he still forced his gaze away, unable to meet her eyes.
"So young." She sighed. She reached into her desk and pulled out a walkie talkie. "Can someone please tell Señor Fuentes I have a new arrival for him? Special circumstances."
"Special circumstances?" Miguel asked as soon as she had hung up the device.
The woman nodded and closed the grate on her booth before stepping out from a little door on the side. "We don't receive many children these days, but Señor Fuentes will help us get you sorted." She said trying to give him a reassuring smile. She offered out her hand to him. "I'm Gloria, what's your name hijo?"
"Miguel." The boy said, taking her hand as she lead him through the gates of arrivals and into the station.
It was a little noisier inside. Several skeletons were sat at different desks, fingers clacking away at a weird mix of computers and typewriters. He still remembered how his Mamá Imelda had destroyed on of their 'devil boxes' with her shoe. He wondered if she would do that again this time.
Gloria lead him over to a bench outside a door. Across the top was a plaque that read 'Arrivals Agent'. Miguel recognized it from last time he was here.
Not many new arrivals probably got to say that.
"Just sit here a moment alright?" The woman asked. Miguel nodded as he sat at the edge, careful not to squish his guitar against the back of the bench.
"Señor Fuentes will be out in just a moment ok? He'll help you sort out your papers. Do you have any family over here?" Gloria asked, kneeling down so she was at his eye level, a hand placed gently on his knee.
"Rivera… um Héctor y Imelda Rivera." The boy said, fingers tightening around his guitar strap.
The woman jolted a moment. "Héctor? You're Héctor's boy? You're not… oh goodness!" Gloria let out a little gasp and covered her mouth with a delicate hand. "You're the living boy, from last year!"
Miguel winced and nodded slowly. He had forgotten he was probably pretty well known over here.
"Oh dear… that's… goodness." Gloria straightened up. "Well, just sit tight until they call you Miguel, I'll go call your familia ok?"
"Ok." Miguel offered, shuffling his feet a little.
Gloria patted him lightly on the shoulder before she hurried off, the click of her heels echoing off the wooden floor.
The small skeleton boy dropped his shoulders as she left. He lifted his head slightly to see some of the other skeletons watching him occasionally. The looks in their eyes made him feel small.
The door to the right of him clicked open and a short skeleton with a green visor poked his head out. "Ah! You must be my new arrival! I'm Señor Fuentes." The man said.
Miguel looked to him and gave a slow nod. He squinted at the man, he looked familiar.
"Well, step into my office, there's some papers to fill out before we can get you on your way." he said motioning for the boy to follow.
Miguel slid off the bench and followed the man as he held the door open for him. He raised the shell of his skull as if he would raise one eyebrow (and wasn't that an odd sensation. Weren't skulls solid? Ugh something he shouldn't be thinking about right now.) as he took in the other skeletons stature. Miguel was taller than he was.
"You!" Miguel suddenly exclaimed, snapping his left fingers. "You're the guy who helped me and mí familia last Día De Los Muertos!"
"Que dises?" The man asked fumbling with his papers and looking up at the boy.
"Yeah, my Mamá Imelda got angry at you… and you were allergic to my dog Dante." Miguel nodded. "I was cursed and-"
"Ah! The living boy!" Fuentes exclaimed. "Oh goodness… this is a special circumstance. Oh my well… take a seat." he said, his expression falling. "I… didn't expect we'd see you again so soon." he gestured towards the chair in front of his desk.
Miguel's own expression fell as he nodded and sat down, taking his guitar off his shoulders and placing it gently next to the chair. Fuente's moved to sit behind his desk, which was piled high with a mountain of paperwork. Some stacks of which looked awful precarious to Miguel's eye.
"So that brings us to our first order of business…" The man muttered as he opened up his drawer and pulled out some paper. "Unnatural death I take it?" he asked, reaching forward with his free hand to hold his pen.
"Unnatural death?" Miguel asked tilting his head. "I um… I was hit by a car.. I think." He focused thinking back, suddenly realizing how hazy his memory was. He remembered… pushing Socorro out of the way.. And then.. Nothing.
Fuentes frowned and gave a solemn nod before scribbling down on the paper. "It's pretty common to be fuzzy on the details of a traumatic death. It'll come back to you more after a while.. Try... try not to think about it for now si?" He offered. "Lets see, full name…"
"Miguel Rivera."
"Right thank you." The man nodded. "Age?"
"Thirteen."
Fuentes paused in his scribbling and looked up with a sullen expression. "Thirteen?"
Miguel only nodded.
The other skeleton took a deep breath and looked back down to his paperwork quickly scribbling in the age bracket. "Let's see, deceased family, oh that one I know," he mumbled whilst writing.
Miguel answered his questions when prompted, meanwhile letting his eyes wander around the room, occasionally distracted by any alebrije flying by outside the window.
"Ok and that'll be just about everything." Señor Fuentes nodded, giving the last flourish of a signature on his paperwork. "Now if you'll sign here please." he said, pushing his glasses back up his face and turning the paper work towards the boy.
Miguel nodded and picked up a spare pen he saw on the desk. He looked down at the paperwork in befuddlement for a moment until the Señor pointed towards the right line. He scribbled his signature quickly and then the papers were jerked back and into Mr. Fuentes' hands.
"Ok and lastly here is my card." Señor Fuentes said, placing the papers in a manila folder and snapping it shut. With his free hand he pulled a little laminated card from his breast pocket. "I'll be your special circumstances manager from here on."
"What's uh.. What's special circumstances exactly?" Miguel asked.
Fuentes hopped off his chair and shuffled over to one of the many filing cabinets in his office. "Lets see…. R… R… R… ah here it is!" he mumbled before placing the file in its correct drawer. "Special circumstances…" he began, turning back around to Miguel and adjusting his visor. "Is for arrivals who came to us in unusual manners… traumatic deaths, especially young, or you know, previously cursed mortals who have a history in the land of the dead."
"That's… weirdly specific." Miguel said tilting his head.
Fuentes gave a small laugh. "Only for you kid. Mostly it's people who come to us very early in their lives and from unexpected deaths. Erm young death isn't as common as it used to be," he offered. "We try to look out for the kids around here… we know its, well it's not easy for anyone transitioning into the Land de Muertos, but it can be especially hard on younger souls."
"Oh." Miguel whispered, dropping his gaze a little.
"Hey, hey amigo it's ok." Fuentes said. "It's alright to feel sad… it's normal after what happened. This hasn't been easy I know muchacho. But you have your family on this side for you, and if you ever need anything, and I mean anything at all, call the number on my card comprende?"
"Like… define anything?" Miguel asked scrunching his mouth trying to think of what exactly the skeleton man could help him with.
"If you're having a hard time adjusting, feeling phantom pain, having issues with your living arrangements, or if you need someone to talk to." Fuentes said shrugging his shoulders. "Like I said, anything. We're here to help. I'd also like you to check in with me, once every two weeks to start with."
Miguel looked towards the card in his hand "Ok." He mumbled, reaching for his song book and quickly slipping the card safely inside. "Thank you Señor Fuentes."
"Of course kid, happy to help. I'm just glad you don't have that alebrije of yours in here this time." he chuckled. "Where is the perrito?"
Miguel froze. He hadn't seen Dante for several days actually… which was normal in of itself considering how the dog was constantly in and out of both realms, but now that Miguel was here… he had actually expected his dog would show up. "I… I uh don't know actually."
Fuentes offered a smile. "Ah don't worry too much, where the skeleton is the alebrije isn't far. He'll turn up soon I'm sure." He clapped his hands together and looked towards the watch on his wrist. "Now, let's get you to your familia… let's see…. Gloria!" He called whilst poking his head out the door. "Any update on the Rivera's?"
Miguel followed the short skeleton to the door and looked over his head at the rest of the office.
Gloria, the skeleton woman from earlier, shook her head as she put down the phone she had been holding. "Not yet, I've called several times and left a message with someone. If you want to wait Miguel, they'll come by soon. There's a reunions section just outside by the front doors."
"Ok." Miguel said. "Gracias por todo, Señor Fuentes… Señora." He brushed passed the skeleton man and followed his pointing finger towards the front doors.
"No problemo kiddo, I'm sure your familia will be here soon for you." The man nodded at him with a smile.
Gloria stood up from her desk and walked over towards him. "Here, I'll show you outside." She offered, leading him towards the doors of the station.
"If you'll just wait out here niño, your family will meet you here ok?"
"Ok." Miguel nodded sitting down on one of the many steps leading up towards the stations entrance. "Gracia's Señora." he said with a little nod.
"De nada." She said, a whisper of a smile on her lips as she offered one last pat to his shoulder before returning inside.
And so, Miguel waited.
But no one came.
