Imelda felt guilty for ruining dinner last night. The woman didn't know what she was thinking. Maybe she was annoyed at her husband. Maybe she was trying to prove that she could make the best chorizos ever! But all it did was drive her friend into a violent coughing fit! Imelda had never felt so frightened on that evening. Even though he was all right, the woman couldn't help but feel responsible for his health.
In the mid-afternoon, she was sitting on the floor, sewing, with downcast eyes. Héctor had been sitting beside her on a chair, playing his guitar. When the songwriter saw her saddened expression, he asked her what's wrong.
"Oh, you don't want to know!" Imelda said, trying to end the discussion.
"Come on, you can tell me anything," Hector said, solicitously.
Imelda tried to conceal her emotions but when her annoying handsome guest kept asking, she finally decided to reveal her thoughts. When she was finished, Imelda had expected him to laugh at her or be disgusted. His true reaction surprised her.
"Is that all that you are worried about?" Héctor asked, his voice softened. "The chorizo?" He clasped her hands with his. "Está bien! I know it was an accident. I know you didn't mean to do it."
Imelda pulled his hands away and looked away. "You could have died!"
"I'm not dead!" Héctor shook his head. "I'm fit as a fiddle!" He jumped off the couch did a little twirl.
"But you can't eat spicy food anymore," Imelda said sadly.
"Oh, it is only for a few years. in the meantime, I'll eat something else!"
(How about milk or fish tacos? Pepita suggested).
"I could cook some rice and beans for you," Imelda thought out loud.
"Well, we'll worry about lunch later," Héctor said, looking at the grandfather clock. It was only ten o'clock. "Since it is Saturday, why don't we do something for fun?"
"Fun?"
"Yes, fun! What do you like to do for fun?"
Imelda recalled what she used to enjoy.
"Horseback riding," she said, truthfully. She missed doing that before she got married. "I know someone who provides that."
Soon, Imelda and her friend traveled to a stable that was close by. The stable was owned by a farmer, Señor Mora. Although his profession was farming fruit, Mora also had horses that his customers are allowed to ride. Horseback riding was something he did to make extra money.
"All right, Señor Rivera and Señora De la Cruz," said the farmer, bringing out two horses from the stable. "Here are my horses that you will be riding today." One horse was light brown with a black mane and tail, called Copper. The second horse was cream-colored with a white mane and tail, named Orianna. Héctor chose the first horse and Imelda chose the second one. After assisting the couple onto their respective horses, Señor Mora mounted onto his own black horse, Eclipse.
The Farmer led the group through a journey to enjoy the view. Héctor was mesmerized at some parts of Pátzcuaro that he never saw before such as Lake Pátzcuaro. They also spotted some men doing butterfly fishing.
Imelda, who was the last in line, felt Orianna slowing down to eat some grass. Imelda gleaned. Her horse decided to stop to eat and the men didn't notice! They all kept trotting on. The woman knew she needed to catch up or else she'll get lost. She clicked her tongue and tried to pry the horse to get back on track. But the horse wouldn't lift her head up and follow the men. When Imelda clicked her tongue again, Orianna still kept her head down. Finally, Imelda yanked her reigns a bit and kicked her horse's both sides. "Giddy up Orianna!"
And so the horse obeyed her. As Orianna galloped, Imelda smiled. She spread her arms out, feeling the wind. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this elated.
Suddenly, a snake popped out of nowhere from behind the trees. When Orianna saw the snake, she became so startled that she raised her front legs up and neighed very loudly. Imelda screamed, not knowing what was going on, and fell off her horse. With a loud thump on the ground. Everything went black. Did she hear someone frantically calling out her name?
Darkness. Nothing but darkness was all Imelda saw.
All she heard was one voice saying over and over: "Imelda, Imelda!"
The woman groaned and her eyes slowly opened. A tall lean figure loomed over her. Was that Héctor?
"Oh thank God, you are awake! What color is the sky?"
"Red?" Imelda answered, in a groggy voice.
The man looked up. Obviously, it was not red, but blue. He lifted Imelda up as if she were a baby and carried her.
"Is she all right, Señor Rivera!" Farmer Mora called.
"Sí, but she needs a doctor!" Héctor answered, worriedly.
Dr. Olvera arrived at the stable and checked on Imelda.
"Caballeros, Señora De la Cruz is going to be fine," he answered when Héctor asked about her health. "She is a very lucky woman. Other people had suffered much worse than her. Tell me, Señor Mora, what caused her to be thrown off your horse?"
Farmer Mora looked a bit unsure.
"I don't know why she got thrown off my horse Dr. Olvera, but I will make sure this never happens again!"
"See that you do!" The doctor nodded. He turned to Héctor. "Another thing I must tell you, Señor Rivera, is that she needs lots of rest. Can you nurse her?" He asked Héctor this question because he could not trust Ernesto. When the midwife had confided him about Ernesto's reaction to Imelda's stillborn baby, he was horrified. Whenever Imelda got sick, he always made sure that Imelda got healed completely so that she wouldn't have to depend on Ernesto. Now Imelda may have trouble walking for a while.
"Sí, Dr. Olvera," Héctor responded, kindly.
The doctor smiled. As he watched Héctor carry Imelda home, he knew that his patient has someone she could trust.
When they had reached home, dark clouds covered the sky and started to rain. Flashes of thunder made the couple relieved that they were safe inside. The songwriter had laid his hostess on the couch and sat beside her. While nursing Imelda back to health, the songwriter immediately, apologized to her over and over. He felt awful that she got hurt but Imelda told him right away that it wasn't his fault.
"Héctor don't blame yourself! My horse got startled by a snake or something, and I fell off."
"But I should have made sure that you were still with me! I should have realized that you were left behind! You could have been killed by that snake!" Héctor said, fretfully.
"The snake was harmless," Imelda assured him, patting his hand. "And you didn't lose me. How did you find me, anyway?"
"Well, Farmer Mora was showing me this great view of a distant village over Lake Pátzcuaro. When I turned to ask you for your opinion, that was when I realized you weren't with us. I called for your name and turned my horse around. When I heard your scream, I galloped toward you and found you lying down." The songwriter breathes o it a shaking sigh. "You weren't moving. I was so scared!"
"Héctor, I'm fine! Nothing to worry about! I'll be back on my feet sooner than later!"
A stroke of lightning flashed in the sky. "Well, it is a relief that we rode horses before the storm came, right?" Imelda chuckled, looking out of the window. Despite Imelda's attempts at using the weather for distraction, her guest still looked crestfallen of her accident. She thought of something else to help take his mind off of her condition. Remembering that he had a guitar, she told him to fetch it. "Play me a song, por favor!"
"As you wish!" the songwriter left the room and came back in a minute with his guitar. He sat down on a chair across from the woman. "What song would you like me to play?"
"La Llorona."
"Great choice!" he smiled, strumming his instrument. Everyone knew that song. What musician didn't know it?
He strummed the guitar and began to sing.
"Salías del templo un día, Llorona,
Cuando al pasar yo te vi,
Salías del templo un día, Llorona,
Cuando al pasar yo te vi.
Hermoso huipil llevabas, Llorona,
Que la Virgen te creí,
Hermoso huipil llevabas, Llorona,
Que la Virgen te creí . "
Imelda's heart fluttered at his musical voice.
"Todos me dicen el negro, Llorona,
negro, pero cariñoso,
Todos me dicen el negro, Llorona,
negro, pero cariñoso.
Yo soy como el chile verde, Llorona,
picante, pero sabroso,
Yo soy como el chile verde, Llorona,
picante, pero sabroso."
Héctor blushed when his hostess joined in vocalizing. Imelda slowly sat up from the couch so she could sing better. Her alto voice synchronized so nicely with his tenor voice.
"La pena y lo que no es pena, Llorona,
Todo es pena para mí,
La pena y lo que no es pena, Llorona,
Todo es pena para mí.
Ayer lloraba por verte, Llorona,
Y hoy lloro porque te vi,
Ayer lloraba por verte, Llorona,
Y hoy lloro porque te vi."
"Ay de mí, Llorona, Llorona,
Llorona de azul celeste,
Ay de mí, Llorona, Llorona,
Llorona de azul celeste,
Y, aunque la vida me cueste, Llorona,
No dejaré de quererte,
Y, aunque la vida me cueste, Llorona,
No dejaré de quererte."
As the song progressed, the musician leaned closer to the woman.
"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 muy tierno, Llorona,
Al verme llorar, lloraba,
Como el pino era muy tierno, Llorona,
Al verme llorar, lloraba."
Their eyelids felt heavy, as their faces inches closer to each other.
"¡Ay de mí!, Llorona, Llorona,
Llorona llévame al río,
¡Ay de mí!, Llorona, Llorona,
Llorona llévame al río.
Tápame con tu rebozo, Llorona,
Porque me muero de frío,
Tápame con tu rebozo, Llorona,
Porque me muero de frío!"
Their eyes closed, each focusing on the other's lips.
"Dicen que no tengo duelo, Llorona,
Porque no me ven llorar,
Dicen que no tengo duelo, Llorona,
Porque no me ven llorar.
Hay muertos que no hacen ruido, Llorona,
¡Y es más grande su penar!
Hay muertos que no hacen ruido, Llorona,
¡Y es más grande su penar!"
Their lips were inches apart.
"¡Ay de mí!, Llorona, Llorona,
Llorona de ayer y hoy,
¡Ay de mí!, Llorona, Llorona,
Llorona de ayer y hoy.
Ayer maravilla fui, Llorona,
Y ahora ni sombra soy,
Ayer maravilla fui, Llorona,
Y ahora ni sombra soy."
Suddenly, a stroke of lightning, followed by thunder, jolted them awake from whatever romantic spell they were under. The forbidden couple quickly pulled away from each other.
"W-we didn't kiss?" Héctor stammered, staring at Imelda as if he had seen a ghost. "D-did we?"
"No, idiota!" Imelda cried, abruptly. "If we did, I would have tasted your lips, and you would have tasted mine! What are you asking me that dumb question for!?"
"J-just...checking," Héctor said, meekly.
Each was surprised by their sudden romantic feelings for each other and it scared them.
"It was a nice duet," Imelda mumbled.
"Yes, it was," Hector agreed, awkwardly. He cleared his throat and released he needed to retire to his bed chambers. But not before putting a blanket over Imelda.
After he went upstairs, Imelda replayed in her mind what just happened. Thankfully, they didn't kiss, but they could have! How close were his lips towards hers? What would happen if the thunder didn't save them from committing such a forbidden act? What would his lips taste like? Were they sweet like honey?
"Imelda, what are you doing? You're married!" She chastised herself.
Pepita climbed up to her and rested beside her.
"Oh Pepita!" she hugged her cat. "What am I going to do?"
Upstairs in the bedroom, Héctor laid in bed, pondering the same thoughts as his hostess. He didn't unexpectedly what happened. He's always been a gentleman. So why did he have an inclination to bestow his lips upon Imelda?
"Héctor, usted loco? This is your best friend's wife!" The songwriter scolded himself. He fell back on his pillow with a thud and covered his face. "Oh, what am I going to do?"
During the next several days, Imelda and Héctor tried to conceal their romantic feelings for each other.
Even though the musician was good at
keeping his feelings for Imelda bottled up, he had hoped they would fade away. But they hadn't, they kept getting stronger. He had to find an outlet for his thoughts or else he would foolishly blurt out a love confession to Imelda (and possibly be killed by Ernesto!)
A couple of days later, Hector was sitting on a bench at the plaza, writing a new song. He had scribbled the lyrics down, this would capture all his feelings. This song told a story of a woman who had captured his heart and drove him crazy.
"Hey Chorizo!" Gustavo piped up. "What are you writing?" His interest was piqued, as his eyes laid on the red book.
Hector groaned. Ever since that fiasco dinner, Gustavo and Antonio have been calling him, chorizo. He had told them many times to stop but his words fell on deaf ears. So his only option was to grit his teeth and ignore them. Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention back to his songbook. An alarm rang through him when his bandmate snatched his book out of his hands.
"Oye Gustavo, what the heck? Give me back my book!"
"No way!" the short man said in a teasing voice. He ran over to show it to Antonio. Hector had to chase after him.
As the two men looked over the songbook, Hector caught up to them, demanding for the tenth time to give his book back.
"'Put them on your head?' What kind of pick-up line is that?" Antonio laughed.
"Cállate, it's a personal song!" Héctor barked, snatching the book away from them. "It's written for a girl I love!"
"Quien es ella?" Antonio asked.
"No one you know!" Héctor blushed, clutching the red book.
"Come on, Héctor! You can tell us!"
"No, I won't tell you!"
"A secret?"
"Sí, none of your business!"
"Okay, fine!" The bandmates said, putting their hands up in surrender.
"Bueno!" Héctor snapped. "Now if you excuse me, nature's calling."
Before Héctor entered into an outhouse, he had put his book down on a nearby bench.
Antonio and Gustavo swiftly picked up the red songbook and found the same page again.
"Oh, this song would be a great addition to our talent show!" Antonio said as he studied the lyrics.
"I wholeheartedly agree!" Gustavo beamed. "This will boost up our chances of winning the show and impressing the talent scout!"