Music was banned from the Rivera household. It was their most important family rule. No music.
That meant no dancing. No singing or humming. No listening to the mariachis that do their performances in town. No leaning out the window to listen to the tunes that occasionally drift through the house when some musicains work up the nerve to play their melodies close to the hacienda late in the evening or early in the afternoon.
And if anyone in the family went against that rule, in any way, Mamá Imelda was always ready with punishments. Elena knew from her own past experiences. Once when she was little she'd started to hum to herself while doing her schoolwork. Imelda was right there with a scolding-- and an order clean the dishes after the family meal. Another time Victoria was caught absentmindedly dancing to a rythm she could hear traveling through the open kitchen window. She was ordered to clean up the discarded pieces of garbage that sat in a large pile outside the hacienda courtyard.
So when Elena found that note-- the one with a song written in it, of all things-- she was suprised. She never thought that things had been different back then, back when someone must have loved Mamá Imelda the same way Elena's parents love each other. And what's more, whoever wrote that song wrote it for Mamá, adressing it as "their song" in the note. She'd showed it to Victoria when thay had a moment alone before bed, and she'd looked just as dumbfounded.
"I thought we weren't allowed to have music," she'd said.
Elena had studied the the letter again, the lyrics filled with love for their mamá. "Maybe things were different," she'd answered.
What else could she say? There was no way that Mamá could've had a song written for her if music was banned when she was little. It just wasn't possible.
And as she layed awake in bed late at night, she still couldn't stop thinking about it. Those letters were wrote with love. But why didn't the person who worte them ever come back?
Elena's thoughts were interrupted when she heard voices outside her door. And... singing. Inside the hacienda. More confusing, that sounded like Mamá's voice. Rich, soft and sweet, breaking the most important Rivera family rule.
Curiosity briefly took Elena over as she peered at her half open bedroom door. Then, after glancing over her shoulder to make sure Victoria wasn't stirring in bed, she quietly tiptoed out the door.
Coco wished she could go back in time, to a time when she was allowed to sing or hum without being scolded or having to do it in secret. She wished her mamá would be herself again, that her face would loosen up and stop giving people that stone-cold look whenever she heard the faintest musical note. Coco wished she could dance with her friends in Mariachi Plaza in the evening, hear them cheering for her when she showed off the moves that her parents taught her.
But most of all, she longed to hear her papá's voice again, to see his smile whenever he saw her or Mamá. All Coco had left of her father were a few hazy memories from childhood. She'd forgotten what it felt like when her father was around. She'd forgotten the feel of his hands whenever he picked her up and spun her around. She couldn't remember his name. She'd forgotten almost everything about him.
And knowing that he existed, and that she couldn't remember anything about him when she was his daughter, that left an unnatural pang in her heart, a dull ache that had become a part of her ever since her father's memories started fading.
But she could remember his voice. A deep tenor singing voice almost always accompanied by his guitar. His voice was the one thing that stuck with her, because it was the easiest thing to think about. Coco could still hear that voice in her mind, and see herself seated in front of her father whenever he played their song. Coco didn't need his face memorized. As long as she could still condure up the memory of his voice, she'd be fine. As long as she could still remember the words to their song, the one he used to sing her every night, that would be enough for her.
So Coco kept singing. And each time she did, she imagined her papá beside her, playing his guitar to keep time with her voice and rythm. Coco prefered to do it late at night, when Mamá was asleep and couldn't yell at her or remind her of the music ban. There were three songs of Coco's father that were the most concrete in her mind: the one for her, the one for Mamá, and another one that Papá had written for somebody else. She couldn't remember who the third one was for. But she remembered all the words, and the feeling the music gave her: a feeling of joy, freedom, and love, all rolled into one big emotion that Coco didn't have a name for but loved feeling nonetheless.
Mamá was outside, standing in the middle of the courtyard, staring up at the clear night sky sprinkled with stars. Her right hand gripped her wrist in a nervous manner, but her stance was relaxed. The moon casted bright lights on her hair, making white streaks on the top of her head and a little down her back. It made her body look outlined and pronnounced as she stood, the night air making a breeze and softly tugging at the hem of her nightdress.
Elena ducked behind a corner, feeling an urge to yell out but not having the heart. Now that she was closer to Mamá, Elena could hear the exact words coming from her mouth. Even without the assistance of a musical instrument, her voice was pure and vivid as she sang. Elena realized that the words Mamá was singing were the words in the letter she'd read earlier.
For even if I'm far away, I hold you in my heart...
The wind was playing with the braids in Mamá's hair, almost as if it appreciated her voice. Elena watched as Mamá started to sway and sidestep to the music.
I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart...
Mamá's face turned slightly in Elena's direction, and Elena could see a tear sliding down her cheek. Elena's stomach tightened at the sight. Mamá almost never cried or showed the slightest indication that she was about to. Elena felt as if she should pry her eyes away, but she couldn't. Mamá continued to sing, obviously unaware that Elena was watching her.
Remember me, though I have to travel far...
Remember me, each time you hear a sad guitar...
Mamá was no longer gazing upward. Her head was bowed down to her chest. Her voice shook for the last lines.
Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be.
Elena felt tears pooling in her own eyes. She hated seeing her mother so sad.
Until you're in my arms again...
Mamá took a deep breath and started to sing again, but just before she could, Elena saw the hallway lights switched on. Moments later the front door opened and Papá came walking out. Elena ducked further out of sight when she saw him. She listened as they started to talk, and watched as Mamá turned to face him with shock in her eyes.
Coco felt a blush creep up her neck as Julio approached her. The wind seemed to pick up and it made her shudder when she saw him. Julio gave her a questioning look as he stopped moving.
"What are you doing out here?" he asked.
Coco sighed and let go of her wrist as she stared at him. For a minute she wanted to lie, to change the subject. Tears prickled at her eyes as she tried to keep them at bay.
Coco started to walk toward him. "It was nothing," she answered. "I couldn't sleep and I needed some fresh air."
Julio gave her a knowing look and shook his head. "You were singing again, weren't you?" He stepped closer and embraced her as a silence followed.
Coco gave a defeated nod against his chest. "I couldn't help it. I miss having music here. And I miss my papá." The tears in her eyes finally pushed through as she felt a lump in her throat.
Julio an a hand through her hair. "I know you miss him, but he left."
Coco closed her eyes, squeezing out more tears. "But I can't just forget about him." Her head was buried in Julio's shirt, which was getting soaked with her cries.
Julio lifted her chin and kissed her cheek. "No one's asking you to," he told her as he drew back.
"Mamá is!"
"Huh?" Julio cocked his head at her. "What do you mean?"
Coco sucked in her breath. "She said no one can bring up his name. No one can speak of him. We can't have music. Mamá doesn't want to remember Papá at all! It's as if she hates him!" Here she wheezed out a breath as she started to cry again.
Julio pulled her closer to him as she sobbed. "I'm sure she doesn't hate him."
Coco looked into his eyes as she spoke. "What other reason is there for Mamá's rules?"
Julio brushed his thumb against Coco's cheeks to wipe her tears. "Maybe it's too painful for her. Think of what you would do if I left your side one day."
Coco sighed heavily and turned away. "I wouldn't force out of everyone's minds, though. Or ban music from the house."
Julio put an arm around her. "You can't argue with your mother. It won't change her mind." He started to pull her toward the house. "Come on. It's too late to be out here."
Coco brushed Julio's arm away and strided ahead of him as they went inside.
After the doors shut and lights were switched off, Elena made her way back to her bed, her mind racing even more than before.
