New week. New chapter. Nuff' said.
No real plot this chapter, but just character moments. I'm still trying to get into Miguel's head and write him in character, so please tell me if he is OOC.
And this chapter made me laugh.
Miguel shot awake, lungs heaving as he struggled to rein in his breathing.
What was that-that nightmare? He thought blearily, flinching slightly when something furry plastered itself against his left side and began licking his face. Waving it away, he looked down after he heard it whine.
He blinked, amazed that he'd been so silly.
It was just Dante, who'd stopped his ministrations and was staring worriedly at him with his big soulful eyes.
Of course, it's Dante…who else would it be? He chided himself and hugged his Alebrije close.
Then someone opened the door to his room, making him tighten his arms as he unconsciously reacted to having his solitude invaded.
The person stepped in-
It was Mama Imelda.
He sighed and relaxed his hold on Dante, sitting up to greet her with a small smile.
Imelda bustled in and shut the door gently behind her, giving him a worried, but very tired look. It was clear to him that she needed rest…so what was she doing here?
"Miguelito? What's wrong? It's only been an hour or so-I heard you scream just as I came upstairs." She said softly, hurrying to him and sitting on the edge of the bed.
Miguel swallowed. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to lie about his strange nightmare, but for some reason, sharing it felt wrong.
Not that he didn't want to. But he didn't want to make Imelda even more worried for him. He needed to get her to rest-
"Miguel?" She repeated his name, her voice low.
He looked up and met her gaze head on. She looked even more concerned.
Dante whined loudly, trying to telegraph to her that everything wasn't fine.
"Shhh. Dante, let me talk." He shushed his Alebrije.
"I-I'm fine. I just had a bad dream…it was-quite bad. I-I was-" He tried to say more, but choked on his words, tears spilling from his eyes.
He was so pathetic. It was all his fault…
Imelda winced at his expression and quickly gathered him up in her arms.
"Shhh. Shhh. You can tell me about it later Mijo. Just know that I don't blame you at all. For anything. You need to get more rest. It's only been a few hours." She said.
"Mama Imelda- you need rest. You can leave me- "He began, wanting her to leave and look after herself rather than waste time on him. And he didn't know how he would go back to sleep anyway, not when he had the hell of his nightmares awaiting him.
"Shhh. Miguel, you're my priority. You'll always be my priority. Let me just think…ahhh, how about I sing you a lullaby?" She suggested.
"A L-lullaby?" He said, feeling genuinely curious.
He'd never heard one before.
Because of the Rivera ban on music -and truth be told he'd only learned about this fact years after his own childhood- his grandmother only permitted humming to calm down babies in the family, acknowledging that as they were so young and therefore cried a lot, it was okay to do so to quieten them. But she still drew the line at spoken words and having a real beat.
His mother had never sung him to sleep. And now Imelda- who'd only just regained her love for music, and was going through so much- was willing to do it for him. He felt quite touched.
Even if he wasn't a child anymore, and should be mature enough to not need it, he wanted one.
"Yes…I used to sing for Coco- at least before Héctor left. And well, you know the rest of it. Do you want me to sing you to sleep?" She said.
He nodded eagerly.
"Yes please." He said quickly, realising he hadn't been polite.
His Mama Imelda just chuckled lowly and smiled at him, unable to help herself.
"Right. Lie back. I just need to think about which lullaby to sing for you. I haven't forgotten them- but I need to choose which one would be best for you." She said, looking thoughtful.
Miguel nodded again and fell back, making himself comfortable against the pillows. Dante settled next to him, panting quietly. He seemed more at peace as well.
"Okay- this is Arrorró mi niño. It's a very old song. It was the one I'd sing the most for Coco. Although she often begged for Héctor…" She trailed off wistfully. "I'll sing and then I'll go check on him." She added, then cleared her throat and started singing before he could say anything.
It was beautiful- no breathtaking.
Just like her rendition of "La Llorona" at the Sunrise Spectacular, he could feel the desperate heart and emotion in her voice. She was truly singing for him, meaning every word.
"Arrorró mi niño, arrorró mi sol. Arrorró pedazo, de mi corazón." She sang softly.
Miguel tried to appreciate the verse and raise his head to hear more, but it was already lolling back and his vision was blurring from sleepiness. The song was already affecting him.
It was a simple lullaby. That, he could tell…but he'd never heard something so gentle…
A song so full of love.
"Este niño lindo, ya quiere dormir; háganle la cuna de rosa y jazmín."
Actually, he had…only hours ago…when Papa Héctor had briefly sung the real version of "Remember Me" to him in Ernesto's prison.
His hazy mind tried to latch on to that fact and rouse him with panic, but he mentally swatted it aside.
His eyes were now drooping, and he just wanted to enjoy the song for what it was. He didn't want to feel worry, or fear, or anything bad.
Mama Imelda was so kind…
"Háganle la cama en el toronjil, y en la cabecera.."
…and so lovely…
"pónganle un jazmín, que con su fragancia-"
…to someone as undeserving as him.
-me lo haga dormir."
He heard a distant sob-
He lapsed into unconsciousness, the softness her voice calling him to dreamless rest.
The second time he woke up, it was far more peaceful.
Settling against his pillow, and a sleeping Dante, Miguel moved in his slumber until his face went right into his Alebrije's wet nose.
The result was that he whined and then jerked awake gently, opening his eyes blearily and frowning sleepily upon seeing a green nose.
Shaking his head, he yawned and then gently pushed the covers away before sitting up slowly, waking Dante in the process.
He barked and sat up as well, thumping his tail happily against the sheets.
Miguel shushed him and patted his snout, telling him to be quiet.
He looked around, realising that he was alone. Mama Imelda was gone.
It made him panic slightly.
He had to find someone. He didn't want to be alone.
Getting out of bed, he wobbled on his feet and quickly leaned against the wall for support. Breathing in and out slowly, he tried to clear his head.
It was all coming back to him-
His failure, the flight, his nightmare, Mama Imelda and her Lullaby…
Upon recalling her singing, he managed to calm his nerves and pull himself together.
I have to be strong. I have to be strong. For Papa Héctor. For Papa Héctor. He repeated to himself. A mantra to stay resilient.
Dante suddenly barked excitedly and hopped down from the bed, running to the door and pawing at it.
"Dante, I'm not ready yet." Miguel said. "I just need to prepare myself- for seeing everyone."
Dante whined and stopped, starring at him worriedly.
"Don't worry. I-I'm okay now". Miguel said, not really believing it.
Dante continued staring at him, expression unchanged.
Miguel huffed, feeling slightly annoyed. But not at Dante. At himself.
Because the truth was, he wasn't okay. But he was better-ish. At least a little.
And I have to be strong. He rallied, thinking about Héctor and the others.
Standing up straight, he nodded at Dante, who perked up, and walked to the door.
But before he could open it, he was hit by a dizzying wave and stumbled back slightly. Dante ran to him and hurriedly nosed him.
What is-
Miguel's stomach rumbled loudly, a guttural noise that broke the tense silence.
He couldn't help it- he burst into laughter.
That's right. He hadn't eaten for a whole day, since he'd missed eating with…
"Come on Dante. Let's find something to eat!" He said quickly, pushing down his worries with a small smile.
He couldn't think about that now. He had to be strong.
Dante barked and resumed wagging his tail.
Together, they left his room and went out into the corridor.
Miguel paused and looked around, entranced by what he saw.
Now that he was fully awake, he could properly appreciate the vibrancy and gaiety of Imelda's home.
The windows were all fully open, shutters moving gently in the breeze, allowing sunlight to stream in and highlight the house's clean white walls and the numerous pictures on them.
He could see photographs of skeletons, of his family members and other people, and paintings of various locations, such as wooded hills and open seas. Further on, he could see flowers in pretty vases on the tables in the hall.
The sound of birdsong drew his attention to the nearest window, and he walked to it and peered out, eager to see what was making the noise.
Looking over the courtyard, he blinked away the sunlight as he caught sight of little skeletal creatures flying around the trees and fauna.
Are those birds? He thought. Hmm. I wonder what they're like? And as for the rest of the city…
Raising his head and looking beyond the estate, he could just make out other houses and a road, curving away, and beyond even that, in the fair distance, a few trolleys flying through the air, and then the city-
"Ah Miguelito! You're awake! I thought I heard you!" A bright voice said.
He recognised it immediately.
Turning around, he greeted his Tia Rosita with a shy smile.
Rather strangely, she briefly flinched, but quickly regained her composure and gave him a warm smile in turn.
"Can I please have something to eat? And what time is it?" He asked, not pressing her reaction, guessing that she was just shocked at seeing him.
He was a child after all- a dead child. The thought made him suppress a shiver.
"Sure! And it's almost midday. You slept for a long time Mijo. Come on, I'm making some chicken with salsa, with rice and some simple vegetables-beans and such." She said and motioned for him to follow.
The mention of food made Miguel want to drool, and he chuckled when Dante actually started drooling.
Following Rosita, she led him down the stairs and into a bright, spacious kitchen with large windows. It had a stone cooker and oven, several cabinets, and a sink, all topped by a shiny black-red counter, next to it was an old-fashioned looking fridge, and further on, a table with a faded red tablecloth. It was set for three.
On the stove, a big red pot was boiling next to two smaller ones.
He could smell something delicious. It made his stomach rumble loudly again.
Rosita giggled and gave him a fond look as she went over and opened the larger pot, then got a wooden spoon from the side and started stirring it.
"It's almost ready. I've made enough for everyone." She informed him.
On hearing her mention the others, he began looking around, trying to spot them.
"Where is everyone?" He said.
"Oh. Lo siento. I forgot to tell you. Oscar and Felipe are tending to the shop- they always eat later, Julio and Imelda are still resting- but knowing him, Julio will be up soon, and Victoria is in the library- she wants me to get her when it's time to eat. She wanted to wait until you were up." She said kindly.
He swallowed.
"And Papa Héctor?" He asked.
Rosita's face fell.
"He's still asleep. Imelda is resting with him. She brought a blanket and pillows upstairs and is insisting on sleeping by him while he rests in her bed." She said.
Miguel's heart fell, but he didn't cry.
He had to be strong.
"Can I do anything to help?" He said.
Rosita looked worried for a moment, then shook her head.
"No. I've done everything. Today is a rest day for you Mijo. Imelda wanted that. So, you don't have to do anything. If you want, we- well I have to go shopping, I need to buy clothes for you and some groceries, and I'll fix your hoodie when I get home- but Victoria can show you around today?" She said.
"Sure. I'd like that." He mumbled, relieved about his hoodie, but struggling to muster up more than meagre enthusiasm otherwise.
It's not that he didn't want to explore the house and the surrounding estate, but he'd hoped that he could be given something to occupy his mind now.
It was hard not to think about them; his loving, living family.
His nightmare was still on his mind.
Poor Rosa finding his body, her crying, and then her shock when she heard him-
He started shaking, tremors racing across his body as he remembered the pain in her voice.
"Miguel?" Rosita called him desperately.
"Yes?" He replied quickly.
Rosita was still smiling- although, it seemed somewhat sad. Hopefully, she hadn't noticed his lapse.
"Umm, it's ready. Do you want to wash your hands? And then you can sit down while I go and get Victoria from the library. I shouldn't be too long." She said.
"Oh- okay. In that case, where's the bathroom?" He said slowly.
Rosita had made him remember his Mama Elena and how she'd fuss over the children before meals, lecturing them to go and wash up.
She was always so stern, and yet so caring…just like her own grandma.
Lost in his reveries, he barely heard Rosita cough nervously.
"Huh?" He said and stared at her. "What's wrong Tia Rosita?"
"Nothing Miguel. I just- it's all a bit much for me at the moment. It's nothing you need to worry about." She stated, squeezing her eyes shut.
Despite her assurances, he was worried.
He had to comfort her.
But before he could step forward and offer her a hug, she opened her eyes and gave him a pleading look.
"You can wash your hands here Miguel." She said, gesturing to the kitchen sink which had a small bottle of deep-green liquid that could only be soap.
"Why?" He said, feeling apprehensive about her behaviour.
"Mama Imelda…will explain it to you. It's- the Chief Surgeon told her a lot. The visit really took it out of her. She learned some things about your condition that really worried her." She explained.
"What?" He muttered.
"Mijo…let me get Victoria and then let's just have lunch and move on for now. Please." She said desperately.
He stared into her eyes and then nodded slowly, deciding to just go along with her wishes than risk stressing her further.
Rosita relaxed and ruffled his hair affectionately.
"Thank you. Just give me a minute. Victoria likes to hole herself up in the library. It can be a pain to break her out of her little world sometimes." She complained lightly and left the room.
Watching her go, he sighed and went to wash his hands.
Hovering over the large stone basin, he reached for the soap and then froze, staring at his skeletal hand with trepidation.
When he'd woken up, he hadn't been bothered by his skeletal body. In fact, he hadn't noticed it at all.
Unlike last night, when he'd first…skeletonized, it all felt normal. Like his skin, but lighter.
Flexing his boney fingers, he pulled his hand into a fist and then relaxed it.
The sound of approaching footsteps quickly broke his concentration, and he hurriedly washed his hands as best he could before Rosita and Victoria entered the kitchen.
Victoria paused in the doorway and gave him a small smile.
"Everything all right?" She said, as Rosita rushed ahead of her and began fussing with pots and plates.
Miguel could only nod dejectedly.
"Yeah…well, don't worry. Rosita told me you wanted a tour, so I'll take you around the house right after we eat." She said jovially.
"Please sit down! I'm about to serve. Miguel, you can sit at the head of the table. Victoria and I will sit next to you." Rosita suddenly barked, already scooping some chicken with brown sauce onto a big plate.
Victoria laughed and herded him to the table.
As soon as he sat down, he was greeted by a large droopy head on his lap, and a pair of puppy-dog eyes staring up at him.
Realising that Dante must've been waiting under the table, so he could strike at the opportune moment and beg, he sighed exasperatedly and patted his Alebrije on the head.
"I'll sneak you some food later, okay?" He whispered.
Dante whined and withdrew.
It amazed him just how much his Alebrije understood him.
"Just for today Miguel." Victoria said with wry amusement, sitting on his left. "Be glad Imelda isn't here."
He pretended not to know what she was talking about and adopted an innocent expression, making her laugh.
Just then, Rosita came bustling around with two steaming plates and set one down in front of him, and then Victoria, before leaving to presumably get her own.
Miguel leaned over his food and sniffed deeply, drawing in the smells.
It really was wonderful…and again, it reminded him of home. But he was so hungry that couldn't bring himself to be depressed about it, instead he embraced the similarity.
There was chicken, rice, beans, and some tomatoes, all dipped in rich brown salsa.
Reaching for his fork to start eating, he stopped when he heard a small harrumph!
Looking up, he blinked when he saw that Victoria and Rosita were both reaching out to him. Although, they seemed understanding.
"Oh." He said and took their hands, bowing his head in prayer.
Together, they thanked God for the meal, just like he had done with his living family.
He tried to take spiritual solace in that fact.
He wasn't alone, and he would one day see them again…
Letting go, he finally picked up his fork and scooped some food onto it.
Feeling the heat radiating off it, he started blowing gently on it to cool it down. Raising it to his mouth, he stopped suddenly and stared at his plate.
"What is it Miguel?" Victoria enquired, as Rosita already had her mouth full and thus couldn't talk.
"Where does it go?" He asked concernedly.
"What?" Victoria said, sounding completely confused.
"The food. If I eat this, will it go through me and end up on the floor?" He said.
Before Victoria could answer him, a tap on his right shoulder made him look over at Rosita.
She smiled at him and then swallowed her food.
It didn't end up on the floor. In fact, it vanished into nothingness.
"No one knows Mijo. I mean- we still get nourishment from it, and if we don't eat, we feel hungry." She told him.
"It probably goes into an invisible stomach." Victoria deadpanned.
Miguel laughed lightly at her stern humour.
Rosita smiled warmly.
"Come on, let's eat up before it gets cold. And yes Miguel, you can give Dante a little bit." She said.
The rest of the meal passed by in comfortable silence.
Every now and then he swiped a bit of sauce on one of his hands, or a small piece of chicken, and let Dante eat it.
After emptying his plate, he felt much better than before.
Victoria cajoled him into coming with her while Rosita cleaned up, but he only left after she assured him it was okay and that she didn't need any of his help.
They passed by a sitting room as they walked through the house and Miguel peaked inside. It had all sorts of chairs and a big sofa, with a small old timey tv at the far end. There was also a desk piled high with papers.
Dante ran ahead of them, woofing happily, even when Victoria told him to shut up as Imelda was still asleep.
First on their agenda was the library, a small rather dusty room with lots of books precariously stacked on wide shelves. The only furniture in it was a worn sofa and armchair with a small table in between them, in the middle of the room. It was free of books aside from a small orderly pile. The windows were rather tall and thin, but still brightly illuminated the room nonetheless.
Dante rushed into the room as soon as Victoria opened the door wider, and ended up crashing into a shelf at the far end. But he quickly bounced back and resumed wagging his tail, completely unperturbed by his accident.
Victoria rolled her eyes but Miguel laughed and smiled at his Alebrije, who beamed back at him.
"Stupid Xolo…Here, Miguel, make yourself comfortable." Victoria said and sat down on the sofa, patting the open space next to her.
Miguel slowly approached her and sat down uneasily. The sofa was mushy, but very comfortable.
To be truthful, he was a bit intimidated by the sight of so many books. He'd never seen so many.
Dante joined them a moment later, curling up snuggly next to his legs. He understood that he wasn't allowed on the furniture.
"This is my little sanctuary. It's the quietest place in the house. You're welcome to come here as much as you like. Just tell me before you take a book. I like keeping track of all of them." Victoria said sagely.
"All of them?" He said, unable to believe it.
"Si. You see, I worked in the main library back in St Cecilia. In fact, I was the head librarian for a while. I had to organise all the books and deal with all the customers- you wouldn't believe how many overdue books there were. People came up with so many excuses to avoid returning them, and then they had the gall to complain when I fined them for being late. It was a pittance." She muttered heatedly, looking really annoyed.
Miguel supressed a snicker. He found her exasperation funny.
"What was your strangest story?" He asked.
"Bah. There were too many. But this one old woman -I remember her because it was more than once- she loved borrowing old romance novels and holding on to them for weeks upon weeks. The annoying thing was, she would cry when I eventually harangued her into returning them." She complained steadily, then frowned.
Miguel smiled. Victoria looked a lot like Mama Imelda in that moment.
"She cried?" He said.
"And she begged me not to take her "romance" away from her. It made no sense- she had a loving husband and four grown up children. So, she was never lonely. And when she came to pick up books, she was always going on and on about her "lovely family and husband". I never understood her." She said, throwing an arm out exasperatedly.
Although he didn't quite understand her, Miguel couldn't help but laugh openly at her gesture.
"Why are you laughing?" Victoria said, seemingly affronted.
"I'm sorry." Miguel apologised genuinely. "It's just- you look so much like Mama Imelda."
"I get told that a lot. Neither of us are very amused by it. So- do you like reading Miguel?" She ventured, trying to make conversation.
"I never read many books. In fact, I can't remember when I last read anything." He confessed.
"Dios mio! Really?" She said, looking stunned.
"Y-yeah…" He stuttered.
My father, and Rosa, were always the main readers in the family. He thought sadly.
"Well then! We will have to change that." Victoria said strongly, distracting him from his worries with her seriousness.
"Hmm Hmm Hmm…I don't have many children's books, and you don't strike me as the type who would like old fashioned classics. Moving on, there was that one series everyone was raving about a few years ago…" She added, muttering to herself.
Then she abruptly got up, and began walking towards one of the shelves with a focused gaze.
He watched her go with a furrowed brow, confused at her departure. Even Dante raised his head and stared at her.
"Ah! Here it is!" She said and removed a book from a low shelf with a flourish, before coming back and brandishing it at him.
It had a colourful cover of a boy on a broom over a lake, with a white owl flying next to him. He could make out the words "Harry Potter and the Philosophers stone" on the front.
"Harry Potter?" He said out loud.
"It's English- about some boy who goes to a school for wizards. It's a long series, but it's good. I read all of them a few years ago, but I can't remember much of it I'm afraid. I read so many books I get lost in them." Victoria said breezily.
He took it from her and thumbed over the cover, admiring the fine illustration.
The boy on the broom looked like he was having fun, and the owl next to him almost seemed to be his Alerbije…
"Do you want to read it now?" Victoria said gently. "I'll stay with you- we can read together a bit?"
"N-no. I'd rather just talk. If that's okay?" He said, putting the book aside. He was genuinely interested in it, but he'd look at it later.
He was afraid that If things got too quiet, his thoughts would wander back to his living family and he would be swallowed by despair.
And I have to be strong! He repeated to himself, unconsciously clenching his fists slightly.
"Sure. Do you want to ask me some more questions?" Victoria helpfully suggested.
"Yes!" Miguel piped up, almost desperately, dragging himself away from his dark thoughts.
He had to be strong.
Victoria raised a brow, surprised at his outburst.
"I mean- can you please tell me more interesting stories from when you were a librarian?" He said quickly.
"Of course! I have so many. In fact, it feels good to vent to someone. I'm remembering so many annoying people...and many not so annoying people." Victoria stated evenly, but with a hint of humour.
Miguel settled in and listened to her as she began recounting her years in the library, and all the customers she'd served.
He eventually recognised a few family names and their conversation coalesced into talking about the history of St Cecelia, something he knew very little about.
Even if it was a little painful to talk about his hometown, Victoria was just so animated and knowledgeable about the subject, that he found himself carried along with her enthusiasm.
At one point he almost asked her why she hadn't married and started a family of her own, but forced himself to keep quiet.
His…living family had never spoken much about Tia Victoria, because they'd wished to respect the "privacy" of her memory. So, even if she was right in front of him and probably would've welcomingly answered his questions, he did the same.
She'd tell him about her personal life when she wanted to, if at all.
As they were talking about St Cecelia's more recent history, Victoria suddenly leapt up and cursed softly under her breath.
"What is it?" Miguel said.
"We've been chatting for far too long- it must be mid-afternoon by now!" Victoria chided herself. "I need to show you the rest of the house."
"I- I didn't mind. I had fun taking to you." He admitted readily.
"Well- thank you Miguel. That's very kind of you to say. But come on, I need to show you around, and then you need to have a bath in the hot springs." She ordered.
"Why? I can always have a bath here later. Why do skeletons need to bathe anyway?" He blurted out before he could stop himself.
No one had said anything about having to wash. Surely, he didn't need to-
"You're beginning to smell Miguel" Victoria stated bluntly. "You haven't bathed in more than a day. We still need to bathe here- little boys especially."
"But- "He began
"No excuses. I've heard them all. But I'll let you have this; you can bathe after the tour." She contended, as if it was a real consolation.
Miguel pouted at her sullenly.
"Don't look at me like that. That expression might've worked on Rosita, but not me. I grew up with a younger sibling- ". She stopped briefly, looking uncertain of herself, then sighed and continued. "- so, I know all the tricks."
He froze.
"You're talking about Mama Elena." He said sadly.
"Yes." She confirmed.
He took a shuddering breath and focused.
His dear Mama Elena- the family member he'd been the cruellest to…
A few tears fell, but he hurriedly wiped them away with his shirt and took a shuddering breath.
"Was she like me?" He said.
"Yes…you have the exact same expression. When she was forced to do something- a job she hated, like sweeping the courtyard, she'd complain and complain and make that face…" Victoria said softly, seemingly lost in the past. She was crying as well.
They spent a few minutes just softly weeping, silently mourning the family member they mutually missed.
Eventually, Victoria sighed and removed her glasses. Drying them with a small handkerchief from one of her pockets, she slowly stood up and turned to him.
"Let's-let's move on and go somewhere else. Try to continue the tour." She said unsteadily.
Miguel mumbled his agreement, and together, they left the library. Dante walked sullenly next to them, his tail low.
Howzat?
Victoria has a secret…
Also, the lullaby Imelda sings Miguel is a real song. Will link later.
La siento-I'm sorry.