Héctor sat in the corner of the cantina with his guitar and a pocket knife, whittling at the handle of his guitar. When he had first seen the shiny white guitar in the shop window when he was very young, he pointed it out to Ernesto, "That is the most beautiful guitar I have ever seen!" Ernesto had only shrugged in response. "One day I'm going to own that guitar," Héctor had said. "Oh, sure," Ernesto had told him sarcastically, "Do you have any idea how expensive that is?"
Héctor had walked by that window everyday to admire it. He loved the way the sun sparkled on its surface, he thought it made it look like an angel's guitar. Then one day when he was about twelve or thirteen years old, as luck would have it, a contest had arisen: first prize winner took home the white guitar. Ernesto had discouraged Héctor from signing up, "You barely know how to play and you expect to win?" But Héctor was determined.
That was when he wrote his first song, "The World Es Mi Familia". The crowd went wild for him. Much to his and Ernesto's amazement, he actually won first place and got the guitar. Ernesto had been so impressed with Héctor's success and the crowd's response that he decided to join in Héctor's plight to play music.
Now, Héctor carved a mouth into the handle of his guitar. He had always thought the handle looked like a skull's head. Gradually over the years, he had been adding little details to the guitar, painting little designs here and there. Now, he was finally adding onto the handle. He had already added the nose of the skull and was just finishing up the teeth. He brushed the shavings off and looked at his handiwork. Yes, it definitely looked like a skull.
"Barman! Get me a tequila!"
The sound of a woman's voice surprised Héctor and he looked towards the door. To his surprise, he saw Imelda. She looked magnificent, all dressed up in a deep green dress, gold earrings, and her hair perfectly pinned to her head with a large clip. Her face, however, told a story of exhaustion and distress. She approached the bar and plopped down on one of the stools.
The bartender handed her a shot of tequila. She immediately picked it up and swallowed it in one go. "Another."
He complied and poured her another glass. She immediately swallowed it again. "Another."
The bartender raised an eyebrow, but still he poured her another. She repeated this steps two more times. "Another," she said, her head beginning to sag.
"Eh, señorita," the bartender said, "Maybe you should slow down?"
Imelda scowled at him. "Have a night like me and then you try to slow down," she told him, her speech already starting to sound slurred. "Another!"
The bartender shrugged and poured her another glass. Héctor stood up and walked over to her, slinging his guitar over his back. "Mind if I join you?" he asked.
Imelda looked up at him, then she rolled her eyes. "Ugh! You are the last person I need to see right now," she groaned.
"Gracias," he said perkily, taking a seat.
"Where is Ernesto?" Imelda wondered, drinking her next glass and then shoving it back to the bartender. He hesitated, but then filled it up again at the sight of her death glare.
"Practicing for the show in a couple days," Héctor replied.
Imelda looked sideways at him. "Why aren't you practicing with him?"
"I'm supposed to be writing an original song for the show."
Imelda smirked. "You write songs too?"
Too? ...Oh. Héctor had forgotten that Ernesto had told her that he wrote songs. "Er, yes," he replied, "I write uhh... most of the songs for our performances."
"Hmm," Imelda replied as she swallowed her next glass of tequila, "And how is Ernesto's song coming along for me?"
"I uh..." Héctor had been struggling with writing his songs lately. Something was blocking him. His emotions seemed to be all over the place and he couldn't focus. "He's... working on it."
Imelda snorted drunkenly. "Sure," she said, sounding a little unconvinced. Her tone puzzled Héctor, but he did not address it. She then peered at him, squinting her eyes. She leaned closer and Héctor had to lean back so that she didn't collapse on top of him. "What do you know about love?" she asked.
Héctor was surprised by the question. "Not a whole lot," he admitted, "I love a lot of things: music, my guitar, and Ernesto is like my brother. But if you're talking about romantic love, I can't help you much."
Imelda nodded and leaned back again. She exhaled sharply. "I just got proposed to tonight."
Héctor raised his eyebrows. "From that rich guy you were telling me about?"
Imelda nodded again and then buried her face in her hands. "It was perfectly horrible! He offered me everything, but I just couldn't accept it." She looked over at Héctor once more. "Is there something wrong with me? Am I that difficult to please?"
"No... No, I don't think so," Héctor replied.
Imelda sighed heavily and rested her cheek in her hand. "Maybe you were right before. I really am never satisfied with anything."
Héctor bit his lip regretfully. "Look," he said, "A beautiful girl like yourself with a lot of personality and spunk shouldn't have to settle for just anybody who doesn't make her happy. Like you said, you have your pick of pretty much anybody. You'll find the right person eventually."
Imelda turned to look at him, her face squished unattractively against her hand. "You think so?"
"Sure!"
Imelda smiled. "That's sweet of you to say."
"Hey, just be that charming and caring person that I am sure is buried in there somewhere and you'll be anyone's dream girl."
Imelda put her other hand up on her other cheek, completely squishing her face. "Even yours?" she asked through awkwardly pursed lips.
Héctor was taken aback by the question, but he nodded. "Sure," he replied, "If you stopped insulting me and throwing shoes at me for ten seconds and I got to know the real you, there is the slightest possibility I might find you attractive."
Imelda giggled, her eyes drooping slightly from all the alcohol swirling inside her. "You're funny," she remarked, "And sweet."
"Now I know you're really drunk because you just complimented me," Héctor said with a laugh.
Imelda laughed as well and then sighed. "Would you play something?"
"Play something?"
"Sí. I want to hear some music. Some real music." She made a face. "After what I had to endure tonight..."
"You were serenaded, eh?"
Imelda rolled her eyes and scoffed. "If you want to call it that."
Héctor removed his guitar from his shoulder. "How can I resist a lady in need?"
Imelda smiled again. Héctor had never seen her smile so much in one sitting. The tequila really did a number on her. He decided this side of her was not such a bad one.
He began to play a slow, haunting melody. Imelda closed her eyes and swayed to it. Gradually, she began humming along, recognizing the traditional tune he had chosen. Héctor allowed her to do so and continued to play.
After a moment, Imelda was waving her hands to the rhythm, still humming, but much louder. Suddenly, she broke out into full song: "No dejaré de quererte!"
Before Héctor knew what was happening, she was standing up and raising her hands above her head dramatically. Everyone in the cantina looked towards the source of the commotion. Héctor decided to simply continue playing, partially out of curiosity of what Imelda would do next and partially because she sounded quite good and he hated to cut it short. She continued with her song:
"Me subí al pino más alto, Llorona
A ver si te divisaba
Me subí al pino más alto, Llorona
A ver si te divisaba
Como el pino era tierno, Llorona
Al verme llorar, lloraba
Como el pino era tierno, Llorona
Al verme llorar, lloraba"
Imelda twirled around the cantina like any natural performer would. She stumbled slightly because of her drunkenness, but for the most part, she executed it flawlessly. She pulled out the large clip that held her hair in place and shook her head so that her long dark hair fell over her shoulders like a dark chocolate waterfall. She shook her head dramatically to the music.
As Héctor played his guitar for a short solo, Imelda jumped up on a table and raised her hands above her head again, tapping her feet to the music. Héctor could hardly believe what he was watching. Imelda, the uptight and temperamental girl he had been associating with all this time was actually letting loose and performing like this.
"La pena y la que no es pena, Llorona
Todo es pena para mí
La pena y la que no es pena, Llorona
Todo es pena para mí
Ayer lloraba por verte, Llorona
Hoy lloro porque te vi
Ayer lloraba por verte, Llorona
Hoy lloro porque te vi
Ay de mí, Llorona, Llorona
Llorona de azul celeste
Ay de mí, Llorona, Llorona
Llorona de azul celeste."
Imelda jumped off the table and began making her way back towards Héctor. He was not entirely sure what to do, so he continued to play. She began gesturing to him, but he couldn't figure out what it meant. Stand up? Come here? Breathe deeply? But then he understood. She wanted him to sing. He cleared his throat and complied, joining her in harmony:
"Que aunque la vida me cueste, Llorona
No dejaré de quererte
Que aunque la vida me cueste, Llorona
No dejaré de quererte
No dejaré de quererte
No dejaré de quererte!"
They finished the song just as Imelda reached Héctor's side, she dramatically placed a hand on his cheek for the final note. The entire cantina burst into applause. Héctor stared into Imelda's eyes as she looked up at him, breathing deeply. Suddenly, she began leaning closer. Héctor's eyes widened as her face closed in on his. What was going on? But then she ended up collapsing into his chest, unconscious.