One hour. One hour until Don Julián arrived for supper. Imelda sighed and watched the sunset. Just last night he had been there with her, watching the sunset. She forced back a shudder at the memory. Now what was she supposed to do tonight? Her mother was practically already picking out her wedding dress. It was pretty much expected that she would end up with Don Julián. The other men who had come to woo her were not quite as important as him. He was a major member of the community, not to mention wealthy. Also, the other suitors had been very insistent, but fleeting with their wooing. Don Julián, on the other hand, seemed quite serious in his statements no matter how bored he sounded when he made them. But was he truly someone Imelda could marry? She tried to picture it. Her and Don Julián together; her on his arm, her running his household, her kissing him... yeesh. It did not seem to come together all that smoothly. Was there really no one else out there for her?
"¡Hola!"
Surprised by the voice, Imelda looked to the gate. Through the dim light, she saw a tall thin figure standing outside of it, but could not make out a face. She squinted, trying to decipher the person. "Who's there?"
"It's me. Remember? The guy you hit with your boot?"
Imelda furrowed her brow, recognizing the scruffy young stranger she had attacked a couple days earlier. He no longer carried his guitar and was now wearing neater clothing, but he still wore the same straw hat, giving him an impish look. He was casually leaning against the gate, wearing a dopey smile. Imelda was baffled as to why such a misfit would be at her doorstep.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I am here on behalf of Ernesto de la Cruz," he responded, pushing open the gate and entering the yard.
"Ernesto? You know him?"
"Sí. I'm his partner."
Imelda laughed. "Ernesto would not have such a low life as his partner."
"Low life?" he repeated, affronted as he approached her. She could now see him clearly. He looked half offended, half amused at her comment. "I'll have you know, I am probably the most distinguished musician you'll ever lay your eyes on. And the most handsome too."
He stuck out his bony chest proudly and grinned the most ridiculous grin. Then, he winked at her. Imelda frowned, unamused. He was teasing her and she did not appreciate it.
"What do you want?" she asked flatly.
"I told you, I'm here for Ernesto."
"If you are really his partner, like you claim, why didn't he come himself?" Imelda asked suspiciously.
"He uh... doesn't know I'm here."
Imelda raised an eyebrow, then looked him over for any trace of dishonesty. He was an oddity and she did not like oddities, but she did recall Ernesto mentioning a partner and the two of them did seem to appear around the same time. She would trust him... for now. "What did you say your name was?"
"Héctor," he replied, removing his hat and holding it meekly with both hands, "Héctor Rivera."
"Well, Héctor Rivera, Ernesto did mention that he had a partner," Imelda stated, "So I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."
"How generous of you," Héctor replied with a hint of sarcasm.
Imelda scowled at him. "So why are you sneaking over to my home without him knowing?"
"Well, señorita, he told me about the challenge you gave him. You know, writing an original song?"
Imelda crossed her arms. Where was he going with this?
"And, you see, neither of us have ever written a love song before and the idea is a little daunting since neither of us have actually been in love before."
"That's why I gave him the challenge," Imelda stated, "Music needs to come from the heart. When he really feels something for me, the music will come."
Héctor pursed his lips doubtfully. "I don't know if it's that simple."
Imelda crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you would know?"
"I would!" Héctor responded defiantly, "I've written my share of songs."
"Well, if Ernesto really cares for me, the inspiration for his love song will come," Imelda insisted.
"I don't think you understand songwriting."
"I think you just don't understand love."
Héctor crossed his arms. "Maybe not, but I do think that love is not something that is just forced out of someone for a song."
Imelda shook her head in annoyance. "Did you just come here to argue your ideas about love and songwriting with me? Or did you actually have a purpose?"
Héctor narrowed his eyes with equal annoyance. "Now that you mention it," he said squarely, "I came to help Ernesto with his song."
"Help? In what way?" Imelda wondered.
"I came to ask you some questions," Héctor replied, shrugging, "What's your favorite type of music, what are your likes and dislikes? What's your personality like so he can choose which metaphors to work with. Are you a star in the sky, the sun rising, or a flower blooming?" He paused and looked her up and down, pondering. "Personally, I think you're like a trying to hug a cactus, but I suppose Ernesto thinks otherwise."
"Trying to hug a cactus!?" Imelda repeated, outraged, "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I mean, if anyone tries to get close to you, they get pricked," Héctor stated simply, "I think you're a little tough to love."
"Me? Tough to love?" Imelda said, with a slight laugh, "I have had more suitors than you can count."
"And how many of those suitors have stuck around?" Héctor asked, eyebrows raised.
For once, Imelda had nothing to say, no snarky remark or anything. Instead, she glowered at the talking stick with hair in front of her and placed her hands on her hips, fury pulsing through her. "You know what your problem is? You think you know everything when you don't."
"And your problem is that you're not impressed by anything," Héctor shot back, his voice cool and collected, but still full of passion, "You think everyone has an agenda."
"I do not!"
"You do! Think about when you first met me, you hit me with a shoe! And I was just passing by then. And just now, you didn't believe I was Ernesto's partner. What reason did you have not to believe me?"
Imelda stared at him in shock. This was the first man to ever argue back. The other men usually just sputtered and backed off. But, her surprise wore off almost as quickly as it came and her anger rose up again. What right did this stranger have to tell her what she thought and what she did?
She inhaled deeply, straightening up so that she appeared taller, though she was still not as tall as Héctor. "Look here," she said sharply, "I don't need the opinion of some no account, unimpressive musician!"
Héctor's face remained stoic as he frowned at her, but she could tell that her words had struck a chord. "Unimpressive?" he repeated, stepping closer to her until he was right in her face, "You think I'm unimpressive? You just wait, I'll... Ernesto will have a song like you've never heard before!"
With that, he stuffed his straw hat over his scruffy hair, turned on his heel, and stomped out of the yard, slamming the gate behind him.
Imelda stood in stunned silence staring at the gate where he had disappeared for what seemed like eternity. What had just happened? She had never argued with someone like that before. No one had dared challenge her. Who was this Héctor that he would even consider standing up to her? Not acting as the gentleman or the coward, but actually letting his emotions ride free?
"Imelda!" her mother called from inside, "Come inside now. We have to get ready for Don Julián's arrival."
