It was another sunny day, and Miguel and Genoveva were training in the courtyard. Business was flowing well in the shoe-shop, filled to the brim with the Riveras and their customers, trying on shoes, asking and answering questions, and making payments. Hector was out at the plaza and Coco was knitting indoors today.
While the teenagers trained with hand-to-hand combat, they chatted as normally as possible.
"So, when will you teach me how to use a weapon?" Miguel asked as he dodged a kick.
"What do you call your fists, amigo." Genoveva teased as she tried to punch the boy. "Besides, you still need to work on your kicks and offense."
Miguel aimed a perfect punch on Genoveva's jaw and then kicked her to the dirt. She looked up at him and smiled. The musician held out a hand for her.
"Not bad, muchacho." Genoveva complimented and took his hand so he could help pull her up. "You still need some work, but I guess you're ready to learn how to duel."
Miguel grinned and they went into the house for a moment. Genoveva grabbed a fencing sword from her room and met Miguel in the kitchen for some lemonade. Once their craving was met, they went back into the courtyard and Genoveva stabbed the sword into the dirt. She motioned to it, wanting Miguel to grab it, but he only glared at it and clenched his fists.
"I don't want that sword." He growled, making Genoveva frustrated until he added, "I don't want anything from him."
She remembered that she earned the sword from beating Ernesto in a fight and finally putting him in jail. She had no problem using the weapon (a good weapon is a good weapon, no matter where it came from) but she respected Miguel's hatred towards it and pulled out her dagger and handed it to him, handle first.
Miguel relaxed and gently took Guachimines' claw and Genoveva pulled the fencing sword free from the ground.
"Okay, remember what I taught you about your stance." She instructed. "The same goes for dueling, or whenever you use a weapon. Be strong, but able to move at a moment's notice."
Miguel nodded, remembering the day they spent entirely on his stance and why it was important. He took a strong stance and pointed his dagger at Genoveva, ready to fight. It looked like he was going to rob her.
Genoveva moved to him and positioned him more appropriately and Miguel understood. She then merely tapped the dagger with the sword and slowly started to teach him how to strike and block with blades. Like children beating sticks together, they gently hit their weapons together, waiting for an opening or trying to make one.
"Think of the dagger has an extension of your arm, not just a tool." Genoveva hinted as they trained and Miguel nodded.
This went on for a while until they saw Oscar and Felipe walk up to them with smug grins on their faces and something hiding behind Felipe's back. The two teenagers stopped their basic combat and smiled at their uncles.
"For you, mi amor." Oscar chuckled as his brother pulled out a beautiful bouquet of flowers in a glass vase from behind him.
Genoveva blinked at them and didn't know what to say. The orange marigolds were beautiful, but there were also green ferns and tiny blue flowers that decorated the set and the glass vase had a blue ribbon tied around it. A little note-card poked out of it on a metal stick.
She carefully accepted the flowers and breathed, "Gracias. W-what's the occasion?"
Felipe shrugged. "Beats us, niña."
"Julio found them at the door this morning." Oscar added.
Genoveva was too captivated by the gift to notice that the twins were eyeing Miguel, as if thinking he had left them there for Genoveva to find, but Miguel only rolled his eyes and watched his friend.
"What's up, Veva?"
She blinked to clear her head, but did not look up. "Nothing, it's just… I've never been given… flowers before…" Genoveva pull out the little card and read it. Slowly, her smile turned into an ugly scowl and Miguel grew concerned for her. "Oh, really?!"
"What?" Miguel asked and tried to lighten the air. "Too cheesy?"
Genoveva ignored his comment and crunched the card in her hand. "I'll see if Rosita wants these flowers. I don't want them."
The twins dropped their smile and asked at the same time, "Are you sure?"
"Positivo." Genoveva said coldly and walked off for the workshop.
The boys watched her walk away and were not sure where this anger was coming from.
"What was that all about?" Miguel asked.
His uncles only shrugged.
After dinner that evening, Rosita was admiring the flowers once more while Imelda washed dishes and Genoveva dried and stacked them. When Rosita could finally pull herself away from the marigolds she grabbed a rag and wiped the table.
"Whoever sent those flowers has good taste." Rosita commented. "I should be able to keep them looking well for a long time."
"Bien." Genoveva said, smiling down at the plate and towel in her hand. "I'm glad you like them."
"Not much of a flower girl?" Imelda asked as she handed her another plate.
Genoveva took it and smiled, "I like them, but I knew Rosita would like them more."
Rosita hugged the teenager from behind and it was a good thing Genoveva didn't need to breathe anymore. "Gracias, hija. I've always loved flowers! You should have seen the arrangements I made for Julio and Coco's wedding! Elena and Franco's flowers were beautiful, too!"
"Franco." Genoveva repeated, still trying to get ot know her new family. "That's Elena's husband, right? Miguel's grandfather? His father's father."
"Si!" Rosita said. "He's a good man! He always loved Elena very much and was always very proud of her! He's very level-headed, patient, and laid back."
"They both sound nice." Genoveva said and she stacked her finished plate and took the wet cup Imelda offered her. "I wish I could meet them. Not that I…"
Imelda and Rosita laughed and Rosita ruffled Genoveva's short hair. "We understand, niña. Maybe one day you will."
"I dunno, Tia Rosita." Genoveva said with a shrug and put down the glass to work on the next one Imelda had ready for her. "It's not like I can cross the bridge to see them. They'd have to die, and…" She trailed off, not sure if there was much more to say.
Imelda, as wise as she was, understood and nodded solemnly. "Sabemos. They may not make it in time to meet you. You're not like us, but that's why we love you so much."
Genoveva smiled. "I love you, too. All of you, even Elena and Franco. Tell me more about Elena, what is she like?"
Imelda giggled and started to talk about her granddaughter that favored her so much. Imelda told Genoveva how Elena looked dangerously like Coco but had Imelda's spirit. She then began telling stories of her as a child and Rosita listened, remembering many of the stories, and Genoveva listened intently.
While the girls were laughing about the time Elena slapped a boy who was interested in Victoria with a sandal, Miguel walked in and waited until the laughing submitted.
"What is it, mijo?" Imelda asked when she saw him.
"The deputy of the police is at the door."
Genoveva threw her towel on her shoulder. "Deputy Lopez? I'll go talk to him."
She led the way out of the kitchen and down the hall and Miguel and the women followed. In the living room, Victoria peered at the door from her book, Julio and Coco tried to ignore the action from their rocking chairs (but were not very good at it), and Hector tuned his guitar on the couch next to his granddaughter, but kept an ear out for what was going on; Felipe and Oscar were too heated in their game of checkers to care who was at their front door.
Genoveva opened it and saw the deputy of the police standing with a smile and a gift-basket so big he had to hold it with two hands. Unlike Chief García, Deputy Lopez was tall and lean, much like the twins, and had a busy mustache and kind eyes. Genoveva had always favored him.
"Hola, señor."
"Hola, Señora Genoveva." The deputy said politely and held out the giant basket wrapped in clear plastic and topped with a blue bow. "Chief García sends his compliments and urges you to reconsider his offer."
"Tell him I haven't changed my mind." Genoveva said firmly as she took the giant basket.
Deputy Lopez dipped his hat and smiled before leaving. Genoveva balanced the basket on her knee and closed the door. She sighed, not like she was sad, but exhausted (which is saying a lot since the dead can't get tired).
"You better watch your back, mijo." Oscar teased, not taking his eyes off the board game.
"Si, looks like someone's trying to steal your girl." Felipe joked, just as focused as his twin.
Imelda took off her boots and threw each one at a brother's head, knocking them clean out of their chairs. Miguel laughed and walked to Genoveva, who was unsure of what to do in the situation.
"She's not mine to stop from being taken." He said with a grin and a shrug and Genoveva smiled back, "Chief García really sent that to you?"
Genoveva gave a cheeky smile and looked like she would have blushed if she could have. "Here, I don't want it."
Miguel was handed the big basket before he could stop her. "Are you sure?" Miguel sat the basket on the floor and untie the ribbon. The plastic fell off and he looked at the contents. "There's chocolate, candles, whitening cream…"
"I'm sure." Genoveva said with a wave of her hand. "You have it. Share with everyone."
"Did you say whitening cream?!" Rosita asked excitedly and went up to Miguel.
The young man held out the small bottle to her and she happily took it. Miguel was happy to keep the chocolate for himself, but when Genoveva walked down the hall for a hot shower, he questioned if she wanted the blanket, the small teddy-bear, or the mints. She denied all the little gifts once more and went into the bathroom without another word.
"Wow, García must really want Genoveva to change her mind." Miguel thought out-loud as he read the labels on the candles.
"Change her mind about what?" Coco asked.
Miguel shrugged. "I dunno. She wouldn't tell me. Chocolate, Mama Coco?"
"Gracias, mijo." Coco thanked as she took the offer piece of dark chocolate and began to free it from it's aluminum prison.
"My guess is García wants her to join the police." Julio speculated as he rubbed his chin.
"That'd be cool!" Miguel said. "Anyone want a mint?"
"Por vavor." Felipe, Oscar, Julio and Victoria all answered and Miguel tossed them all a piece.
"I mean," Miguel went on from his statement earlier. "Fighting crime, hunting down criminals, I thought she'd like that."
"Yo también." Hector admitted. "But if it has to do with corruption, she may want to stay out of it."
"But she's never backed down from a fight before." Miguel pointed out. "Why would she now?"
Before she even got undressed or turned on the water, Genoveva had heard everything while preparing her bath. She had listened carefully as she picked her soap and was against the door when hearing what Miguel said. She shut her eyes in shame.
"Miguel!" She heard her Mama Imelda scold. "She has her reasons; respect them."
Genoveva didn't want to hear anymore, so she turned on the faucet in the tub and clogged the drain. "I've never back down from a fight in my life." She muttered to herself. "And I never will."
The next morning, when the mailman delivered Julio's copy of the newspaper, he also delivered a case full of the nicest red wine the dead could get their hands on for Genoveva. The bottles were cushioned with blue tissue-paper and a tiny card begged Genoveva to think about what Chief García had said to her.
When Genoveva opened the box at the kitchen table and read the card, she threw the card in the trash and told everyone to have as much wine as they wanted. Before anyone could argue or offer her some wine or even ask what the card had said, she left and crawled up the tall tree in the courtyard and hang upside down from one of it's sturdy branches.
She was left alone most of the morning until Miguel was brave enough to tell her that she had received another gift. Genoveva reluctantly followed him to the living room where Rosita handed her a white flat box tied with a blue ribbon. Genoveva opened it to find a sparkling violet dress with a black shawl that looked like it was cut from the sky. Rosita awed and begged her to try it on, but Genoveva closed the box and said she'd see if it'd fit Imelda.
Hector was there when Genoveva pulled an unconvincing smile and handed Imelda the white box to give her a break from hamming at a boot. Imelda tried to deny the dress, but it was too beautiful and Genoveva pushed too hard that all Imelda could do was smile and thank her. Imelda got up from her stool and said she'd put it away in her room. Hector normally would have pleaded with her to try it on first, but he wanted to talk to Genoveva.
As Imelda closed the door, Hector studied the girl closely. She didn't look unhappy per say, but like she had a lot on her mind. Her face was almost bland and expressionless; Hector missed her smile.
"Genoveva," He said kindly to get her attention. "Are you alright?"
She snapped her head up at him and smiled. "Si, Papa Hector. I'm fine."
Hector gestured to Imelda's empty stool. "Sit."
Genoveva obeyed.
"You know," The musician said wisely. "You can always talk to me if something is bothering you. We can tell García to back off and leave you alone if…"
"No, it's nothing like that!" Genoveva said quickly. "It's just…" She took in a deep breath and looked out at the courtyard to watch the tree leaves dance in the wind, rather than look at Hector. "He wants me to join the police and personally work on finding a solution to corruption, but I don't think I should."
"Por qué no?" Hector asked calmly. He agreed with her decision, but he wanted to know her reason behind it.
"I don't trust García." She stated plainly. "I told him nearly treinta years ago that this would happen. I told him that it would reach humans, I told him to do research and to make sure he's one step ahead of the pandemic, but he didn't listen to me. I don't trust him to make the best decisions and I don't want to be tied down by the law when I can do this myself."
Hector tried to meet her gaze, and asked, "And you really think you can do it by yourself?"
"Si." She said boldly and finally looked at Hector. Once she did, her confidence died a little. "No?" She cringed and leaned back against the small desk Imelda was working on and closed her eyes. "Es complicado."
Hector looked at Genoveva for another moment or so and wondered how someone so young could be so old. Oh, the beauty of the dead. "I don't think you're worried about the police or Chief García." He said and touched her shoulder. "I think you're afraid of corruption."
Genoveva opened her eyes and shook her head and she sat up, and Hector removed his hand from her. "I can't afford to be afraid. Not now."
"Genoveva, it's okay to be afraid." Hector said gently. "We're all really scared right now about what's happened, but the important thing to do is to talk about it. And… you know I'm always here if you want to talk, right?"
"Look, just don't worry about me, okay?" She said as she stood up, her back to him. "I'll figure it out."
Genoveva walked into the house and Hector could hear the front door open and close; his guess was that she went out for a walk. Hector sighed and stood up, but he didn't go inside. Instead he went out into the sunshine and put his hands in his pocket as he looked at the big tree.
"What are we going to do with that girl?" He sighed to no one in particular.
No gifts came for Genoveva until the day after she and Hector talked. She was playing checkers with Miguel in the living room when Deputy Lopez knocked on the door. Already in a foul mood because she couldn't figure out the whole corruption issue and she was losing to Miguel in the third time in a row, she stood up so quickly she knocked over her chair and threw open the door.
"It doesn't matter how many gifts that bastardo sends, I'm not joining the police!" She yelled and looked ready to break a bone.
"It's not a gift!" The frightened deputy quickly spitted out as he used a small envelope as a shield for his face. "It's an invitation!"
Genoveva's anger dwindled, but she did not relax. "Para qué?"
"A gala at town hall. All the big names of this corner of the Land of the Dead will be there." Lopez explained and held out the invitation to Genoveva. "Chief García personally put it together and requests your presence, and anyone you wish to bring with you, of course."
Genoveva took the invitation and thought about it for a moment. It could very well be a trap or a rouse to blackmail or trick Genoveva into joining the police, but maybe she was just getting paranoid.
Miguel was suddenly at her shoulder and wrapped an arm around her neck. "She'll be there!"
Genoveva gritted his name through her teeth and Deputy Lopez bid them both a good evening and left.
At dinner, when Miguel told the story, Hector perked up and said,
"This is perfect! It'll be fun! You could use some fun!"
Genoveva narrowed her eyes at him, but he was too distracted by his wife to tell.
"It does sound nice." Imelda admitted. "But only if you're comfortable, Genoveva."
She looked down at her food and gave it a final thought. A nice night out with her family did sound like fun. She had been in a funk because of everything going on and this might just be the thing to get her back into the groove.
Genoveva smiled a true smile and said, "Si! We'll all be there! But if we're going to do this, let's do it right."
The town hall of the Land of the Dead was where most office work and other important documenting took place. The Department of Family Reunions, the Department of New Arrivals, the Department of Records and History-Books, and the Department of the Forgotten were all connected to the grand building that came crashing together in a huge glass-ceiling lobby that glistened with gold. This was where the fiesta was being held.
The lobby looked more like a ballroom when decorated with silver streamers, dazzling lights, and a stage of mariachi players was set in the back of the lobby. Tables had been scattered along, but plenty for room for dancing and walking about had been made. All the doors were locked and the offices were secure.
Bodyguards looked after the grand entrance for guests with invitations and the doors to the departments, giving the police the night off to enjoy the party that created mostly to politicians, law officers, and big company owners. It was an excuse to have a good time, and most of the skeletons were, enjoying the red wine and small snacks and the beautiful music.
The Riveras, led by Genoveva, waited in line dressed in their finest. Most wore what they wore to the Hernández wedding, except Imelda wore her new sparkling purple dress and black shawl and Genoveva wore a gold-colored mariachi suit and sombrero, much like Miguel (except he wore a maroon outfit). When it was their turn, Genoveva showed her invitation to the guard and bowed low as he and his co-worker opened the doors for them.
"It is an honor to serve the Rivera family." The bodyguard greeted in a low voice.
Thanks were exchanged and the family walked into the fiesta to find it in full swing. Miguel found himself reminded of Ernesto's party, but not as crowded so one could walk comfortably and more lit so you weren't standing in the dark.
Genoveva caught sight of Deputy Lopez with a beautiful young woman on his arm, wearing a turquoise dress. She had her hair pinned up with a peacock feather and looked about a decade or two younger than the deputy, but not quite a teenager. Lopez saw Genoveva and he brought the woman with him to her.
"Señora Genoveva," He greeted warmly. "Welcome. I'm so glad you could make it. This is my wife, Ingrid."
"It's nice to meet you." Genoveva said politely and shook her white gloved hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you as well." Ingrid said with a sweet smile. "Antonio told me so much about you."
"Really?"
"Genoveva!"
Genoveva cringed and Lopez shrugged apologetically as his partner and boss came from behind him and grabbed Genoveva's hand and shook it enthusiastically.
"It's an honor to see you here!" Chief García greeted loudly. "And the Riveras, how wonderful!"
Genoveva yanked her arm out of his hold, but her hand popped off of her wrist and was still in García's, so she yanked it back and attached it to her harm, shaking her hand to get some feeling back into it.
"Si, it's a nice fiesta." Genoveva muttered darkly.
Chief García ignored her cold attitude and moved next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. "Come, señora! So many people to meet!"
Genoveva had enough time to look back at Miguel and give him a pleading look, but before Miguel could act, she and García were lost in the crowd. Most of the family members had dispurced, but Imelda and Hector were with him and saw the whole thing.
"Cool off, chamaco." Hector said lightly as he patted his sombrero, making it cover Miguel's eyes so he had to straighten it. "She'll be fine."
Miguel entertained himself by following Imelda and Hector and meeting owners of successful companies. Miguel was introduced to José Fimbres Moreno, the founder of Calimax, and Rodolfo Junco Voigth, the founder of Grupo Reforma. It was all exciting and the party was fun, but all the while he kept an eye out for Genoveva.
About an hour into the party, Miguel had wandered from his great-great-grandparents and explored the party. He saw his Papa Julio and Mama Coco sitting and eating some chips and guacamole, and Oscar and Felipe were chatting with a pair of cute girls about their age. Miguel cringed with a smile and kept on walking. Finally, leaning against a pillar and hiding in the shadows, was Genoveva, her sombrero so low he couldn't see her face and wouldn't have recognised her if he didn't know her so well.
Miguel slipped in quickly and stood close to her as to not be seen.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"Hiding?"
"Si." Genoveva grunted. "I needed a break. Having fun?"
Miguel shrugged. "Yeah, but it just got a lot better."
Genoveva gave him a lopsided smile and peeked out at the party for intruders. "This was a bad idea." She muttered.
"That's only because you're hiding and not allowing yourself to have any fun, amiga." Miguel argued, and as she gave him a funny look, he added, "Look, forget García and Lopez. Forget corruption and everything else. Come back out there with me and have a good time! You deserve it!"
Genoveva laughed and grabbed Miguel's wrist. "Okay, muchacho, vamanos."
The fiesta took a turn for the better as Genoveva pulled Miguel onto the dance floor and they danced in the crowd. They laughed and had fun and later went to get snacks. They feasted on meatballs and cheese and chips and salsa, and Genoveva offered Miguel some red wine and he took a glass before a family member could stop him and told him he was too young. He was eighteen by now; he should drink if he wanted to.
The wine was bitter and Miguel accidently gagged and spat some out, choking and coughing. Genoveva laughed and held her ribs. No one had ever told Miguel that it was so bitter and that it burned! Genoveva explained how you don't drink it for the taste, but the , being dead, alcohol doesn't have the same effect, so most people drank it out of habit, or for the strong taste.
Miguel settled for water and Genoveva was happy to sip her red wine as the two chatted away, every once and a while, they'd be joined by a family member of a friend or a celebrity who wanted to talk for a moment. Miguel caught sight of García and pulled Genoveva to the opposite side of the room, nearly ruining her suit with wine.
After the quick save, they found themselves talking with Rosita, Julio, Coco, and Aarón Sáenz Garza as they listened to his stories of World Affairs in life. Later into the night, Miguel and Genoveva took to walking in laps around the edge of the lobby and talking. Finally, the musician could not help himself any longer and asked Genoveva to dance with him again. She agreed without hesitation and they ran out to the dance floor.
Genoveva grabbed Miguel's hand and started to do a tango with him. He went with it and they both had fun, being over-dramatic with kicks and stances and pretending to be serious, all the while they laughed their non-beating hearts out. The dance floor was slightly emptier than it was earlier, so it was easy to see the famous pair of young adults dancing and laughing and having a good time. Hector and Imelda watched them from a table and smiled.
"Wow, they both look really good." Hector commented before busying his mouth with wine too much to talk.
"Si," Imelda agreed with a nod. "They make quite the pair. It seems only yesterday Miguel was telling us about a strange girl who won a duel against a commander. Now she's a part of our family."
"Two years can fly quickly here." Hector said. "Only for Dia de los Muertos do we really count the years, but apart from that, time means nothing."
Imelda continued to watch Genoveva and Miguel, and as Miguel dipped her friend, Imelda noticed that this was the first time in a week she had seen the girl give a true smile like that. It wasn't fake or just a mask to hide a negative emotion. It was real.
"That girl puts too much on her shoulders." Imelda let slip.
Hector looked at the pair dancing carefree and nodded, not taking his shiny eyes off of them. "I talked to her the other day about it."
"And?"
"She's got it in her head that she needs to deal with the corruption crisis all by herself." Hector sighed. "I understand if she doesn't trust the police or wants to work with them, but she should let her family help her."
"I'm not sure she even knows how to do that." Imelda speculated.
Hector nodded again, still watching Genoveva and Miguel dance. It was scary how similar Hector and Genoveva were; they were both orphans and both made a life for themselves when no one else would.
When Hector was Miguel's dying age, he had left the orphanage with his best friend, his brother, Ernesto, and the two had big dreams of performing music for scrap money and to earn their freedom as adults. By the time the boys were eighteen, they had travelled to Santa Celia and met a stubborn-headed young lady with a big heart and a woeful voice. It wouldn't be too long after that that Hector married Imelda and took her last name and they started to have a family. It was when money got extremely tight that Hector agreed to travel again with Ernesto.
Back then, when their little family was just that, a little family, he adapted to marriage and parenthood extremely quickly; Hector had always wanted a family of his own. However, after… erm, certain instances… he was without a family for nearly eighty years, and after their little adventure, they were all slow to adjust.
Most of the family members were quick to welcome Hector home and to put the whole thing behind them, all except for Victoria and Imelda, but by the next Dia de los Muertos things were as normal as normal could be. During that awkward year, Hector was not his usual excited, quick to act-self, rather cautious and slow, afraid of ruining everything, but once he relaxed and was himself around his family, things couldn't have been better.
Hector had watched Genoveva very carefully ever since she first joined them for dinner. She was very polite and hardly intruded at all. She loved to play checkers with the twins, talked to Victoria about books, swap stories with Imelda and Hector, and she was always perfectly happy just to sit in the living room with everyone and watched with a peaceful smile on her face. But, she was hesitant.
She seemed to keep a part of herself away, not like she was hiding a secre,t but she hadn't yet exposed herself to the Riveras one can only do with a family. Genoveva, despite being adventurous and brave, when it came to her new family, was hesitant and unsure and - no matter how many times she denied it - afraid.
"We just have to be patient." Hector advised. "She'll come around. And when she needs us, we'll be right there."
Imelda took her husband's hand and smiled. He was always very kind and wise and patient, even as a young man back in the day. Now, at night, she was entranced and wanted nothing more than to dance with him.
"Vamos, guapo." She smirked and got up and led Hector to the dance floor, forcing him to abandoned his half-empty glass of wine.
The song was much slower now, and so Hector took Imelda's waist and hand and she put her free arm around Hector's neck. Slowly, the two swayed and were silent, enjoying each other's company.
Meanwhile, a could of couples behind them, Miguel and Genoveva slow-danced, too, just for the fun of it, and for a chance to talk.
"I feel like I'm doing it wrong."
"Qué? You're saying a beautiful señorita like yourself has never slow-danced?"
Genoveva only shrugged.
"Here, let's try…" Miguel moved her hand so it was around his neck, like her other hand, and he then held her by the waist with both hands. Height wise, they were eye-level. "Better?"
"Much." Genoveva said as they swayed side-to-side.
"Listen," Miguel said. "I know you didn't want to come, but I'm glad you did. I'm having a great time."
"You know what, so am I." Genoveva said kindly "This is nice."
Miguel gave a smile. "Yeah, I… I've never slow-danced before, either."
"Really? You don't show it, mariachi."
Miguel snorted. "Gracias. Hector's actually the one to taught me how to dance."
"Go figure."
"I was at the courtyard and I was dancing to a song on the radio and he scolded me and then started to dance 'the right way'. Suddenly it was a dance-off, and he was much better than me, so he started to teach me how to dance, and when the radio played Amor O Costumbre and before he knew it, he was instructing me how to lead!"
Genoveva laughed and said, "Well, he's a very good maestro."
"Gracias, Genoveva!"
Miguel turned his skull one-hundred-and-eighty degrees and Genoveva looked over his shoulder to find Hector and Imelda doing a two-step hand-in-hand and smiling at the younger pair. If it was possible, his great-great-grandparents would have told Miguel he had grown pale. Genoveva laughed even harder and had to free a hand from Miguel's wrist to hold her quivering ribs.
"Cleary I haven't taught you enough, mijo." Hector teased, his eyes on his wife as they danced. "You've been planted at that same spot!"
"Well, let's do some gardening." Genoveva smirked and placed her hand back around Miguel's neck.
He turned his skull back to Genoveva and nodded with a slow song ended and an up-beat tango song played. Miguel and Genoveva took two steps forward, two steps back, in perfect sync, but with flare in each step. After a while, genoveva swung herself around so she was next to Miguel and they started clicking the floor with their feels, a pair of arms entangled and keeping them together. Meanwhile, Hector spun Imelda and then literally swept her off her feet, making her laugh as the couple did a spin together and Hector then put his wife down so they could do a nice tango together.
When the song was over, all four Riveras were hot and sweaty, but more than happy, and so they clapped loudly for the mariachi players and Hector and Imelda left the dancefloor to speculate a new plan. Genoveva and Miguel were about to dance again, when a hand touched Genoveva's shoulder.
"Excelente, Señora Genoveva!" Chief García complimented, a little too enthusiastically for belief. "Absolutely stunning! Couldn't have done it better myself! Course, Lord knows I have two left feet!" He laughed.
Miguel and Genoveva did not laugh, but the boy held Genoveva close with one arm over her shoulders. To make sure the chief could not separate them, she put an arm around Miguel's waist.
"Gracias, Chief García." Genoveva said professionally. "For the compliments and the invitation."
"El gusto es mio." He said politely as he nodded his head. "I trust you've given my offer some more thought."
"I have and my answer is still the same." She said firmly.
García's eyes flashed in frustration, but his facial features were still the same. "Oh, that is a shame. We would love to have you working with us."
"You mean 'for us'." Genoveva said coldly.
Chief García was losing his patience and his smile was more fixed. His eyes were not afraid to appear menacing and it was clear that his grin was fixed. "I was hoping we could work together…"
"So now you want my help?" Genoveva asked darkly. "Now that you've seen how out of hand the situation had become, now you have come to me on bended knee, asking for help?"
The chief could not hold up even a faint smile anymore and now scowled at the teenager who dared question his judgment.
"I can recall telling you nearly treinta years ago exactly what to do, but you ignored me and said you could handle it, so now you must face the consequences."
"Eso es suficiente." García growled and took a step closer.
Miguel held Genoveva a little bit tighter.
"Now you listen to me, you little street-rat. If you aren't going to work with me, then you better stay out of my way. There are laws preventing vigananties like you from getting in the way of police-business. We should be working together…"
"No me gusta ser usado." Genoveva snapped.
"We should be working together," Chief García went on. "But if you're not going to do so, then you are working against me, and I have a way of removing people who are in my way."
Miguel heard enough and stepped in front Genoveva, frowning at the chief. This caused García to regain his little smirk and he chuckled.
"Aw, the little musician is your bodyguard now." He said in a low voice. "I've heard of your journey down here when alive. Couldn't stay away, could you?"
Genoveva snapped. She shifted her jacket to reveal her belt and dagger and she whipped out the claw and was between Miguel and Chief García, pointing her blade at the policeman's neck. Many people had been oblivious to the quiet argument, but were now aware of the drawn-out weapon at the chief. Only the dance floor seemed to notice as the other guests were too soaked up in their own conversations to notice or care.
Rather than cower in fear, Chief García grew a wicked grin. "Pulling a weapon on an officer, eh? That could land you in a nice little cell right next to Ernesto De La Cruz." He sneered.
Miguel put a hand on Genoveva's shoulder and whispered by the side of her skull. "Veva, stop. He's not worth it. Let's just go home."
Genoveva did not move, but could feel Miguel's skeleton shaking in rage. How easy would it be to chop off García's stupid skull and kick it to the other side of the lobby to remind him who's boss. How simple would it be to humiliate him and make him rue the day she looked down at Genoveva. But he was right. The only thing she cared about was being with her family.
The young warrior pocketed her dagger and grabbed Miguel's wrist. Without another word, she led the way off the dance-floor, across the lobby, and out the front doors. Miguel was tempted to stop and gather his family, but they could leave when they wanted to. They needed to be alone right now.
Miguel walked with Genoveva down the street and into the crowded city. It was a quarter after ten, but since most people didn't bother with sleep in the dead, the streets were only slightly calmer than what they would be during the day. They passed all the shops and cafes and did not slow down their angry marching until they reached the bridge they showed the huge stadium.
Before De La Cruz was revealed to be nothing more than a murderer, the city had renamed the stadium after him to thank him for the lesson he taught them: remember us. Through his music, people in the Land of the Living were inspired to truly remember their families and so many of the dead were spared. No one even remember what the stadium was called before The Cruz Stadium, so when he escaped the bell before he could be arrested, there was the question of what to do about the stadium.
Some people wanted to tear it down and build a new one. Some wanted to rename it The Rivera Stadium. After months of discussion and getting Hector's request to not name it after him, they decided to make it more open to the public for anyone to use and so it was renamed La Musica's Home. A statue of a giant music note had been placed over the entrance and Miguel was pleased with how the stadium looked now. It was currently closed for the night, but the complex still looked grand. Genoveva leaned on the bridge and looked at it, deep in thought.
Miguel stretched his spine and said, "I'm sorry for what he said. He was way out of line."
Genoveva shrugged. "I don't care. Let him pitch a fit that I'm not a cop."
Miguel leaned over the rail, too, but looked at his best friend. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened between you two?"
"Es complicado." Genoveva answered plainly, but thankfully, she elaborated. "He died back in 1971 and immediately went to work as a cop, working his way up to chief when the old one retired. A few years later, a corrupted alejibre attacked and I beat the police to the punch. We worked together, just like a few days ago, and got the poor creature under control. I met with García the next day and told him all I knew and how he should act next, but he ignored me and I was eventually thrown out."
"That imbécil!" Miguel yelled.
"Si, so I left him to deal with the crisis on his own, and I've seen it steadily get worse. Now it's almost at a point where if something doesn't change, the whole city could be in danger." Genoveva gave it some thought and added slowly, "Maybe I should join the police. They have resources and… I dunno, if I truly believed García would listen to me I would join, but I think he only wants me for my combat skills and to keep me out of the way." She looked at Miguel and asked, "What do you think I should do?"
"I think you should trust your instincts." Miguel said and smiled at her. "You're one of the bravest, selfless, strongest people I've ever met, and if anyone can figure this out, you can."
Genoveva smiled and leaned against Miguel and took his arm. "Gracias, amigo."
Miguel smiled, finding himself very comfortable, and so they two stood there and watched the city of lights go about their usual nightly routine.
Imelda led the way home, shaking she was so mad, and her husband was close behind her, but far enough to dodge a flying shoe if needed.
"That bastardo!" She yelled into the quiet street. "Trying to manipulate us to make our Genoveva join the police! I saw her almost slice his skull off! I'm not an idiot! There's no doubt in my mind that the coward cannot be trusted!"
"Si, I was disappointed when I heard he had been promoted to chief." Hector commented, remembering when he had read the headline in the paper down at the docks with his old amigos. "But we shouldn't waste our time worrying about him; Genoveva can take care of herself, mi amor."
Imelda swung around and stopped walking, making Hector flinch and Julio try to hide in his suit and straw-hat. "I know THAT! But the very NERVE of him! I swear, if he EVER comes near my Genoveva ever again, I'll…"
Imelda swore the rest of the way home while Hector silently rubbed his forehead, ready for a nap. Behind them, Rosita walked with Coco and Julio and chatted quietly about what a pleasant time they had; Victoria now had something to tease her great-uncles about as they had each gotten a phone number from a woman. Imelda was still ranting about García when they reached the door of their home and Hector pulled out his keys.
"You know what, I don't even want to talk about him anymore!" Imelda squacked as she crossed her arms and turned her back to her husband, as if he had started talking about the subject, too. "He's not worth my time!"
Hector closed his eyes tightly and tried not to make a smart remark, quite liking not having a cracked skull. He unlocked the door and let Imelda enter their home first.
Everyone filed into the living room and saw Genoveva and Miguel at the checkerboard, still wearing their mariachi suits, apart from the fact that their jackets and sombreros were sitting on the back of their chairs.
"Hola, Riveras." The teenagers said together, not looking up from their game.
"Hola, Miguel. Hola, Genoveva." The little crowd said.
Julio collapsed into his favorite rocking chair and picked up his newspaper. Coco sat in the rocking chair next to him and resumed her knitting. Victoria, Oscar and Felipe went into their rooms and Hector mumbled something about coffee, so Rosita followed him into the kitchen.
Imelda walked up to the little table and asked, "Who's winning?" She had never gotten into checkers the way her brothers had, but that didn't mean she didn't like to watch others play.
"It's dangerously close, Mama Imelda." Miguel answered while Genoveva moved a red piece. "We're tied now, but only half of the pieces are gone." He glanced up and asked, "Did you have good time?"
Imelda smiled. "Si, mijo. Did you?"
Miguel moved a black piece and answered, "Si, we both had a great time!"
"Papa Hector was right." Genoveva commented as she jumped a black piece and took it. "It was nice to get out and have some fun."
Imelda put a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "I'm glad. I'm also glad you didn't let that bastardo push you around."
"Well," Genoveva said with a shrug as Miguel stole three of her pieces in one move. "I learned from the best." And she flickered a smile up at Imelda.
The old shoe-maker gave the teenager's shoulder a loving squeeze and went to her room for the night. Genoveva focused on the game and moved a piece, only to groan and notice her fatal mistake as Miguel stole the last of her pieces in one fail swoop and he jumped up from her chair and cheered.
"Woo! This is how we do it!" He sang and started to do a little victory-dance.
Genoveva leaned back in her chair and rolled her eyes in their sockets as she watched the boy have his moment of championship. Coco giggled at her great-grandson and went on knitting while Julio started to doze in his rocking chair. Give him a few more minutes and he'd fall asleep.
