Show Me Chapter 28

Hi guys! Hope you're all doing well and staying safe! Just as a heads up that there might be some more English phrases going forward and those will be in bold. Enjoy this chapter!

The next day was a flurry of activity—Enrique, Gloria and Martinez had driven up to México City to speak to one of his colleagues about the new lead they had found. At Elena's request, Enrique and Gloria did not mention how they found this information out and Martinez seemed to go for the "anonymous" note-writer theory. After all, people submitted information anonymously all the time, Miguel reasoned.

"So what's going to happen after Señor Martinez leaves for Los Estados Unidos, Mamá?" Miguel asked Carmen one night as they set the table for dinner.

"It's difficult to say, Miguelito," Luisa answered. "We may find answers, we might not. We have to be prepared for that possibility that this could be another dead end."

Nodding solemnly, Miguel continued on and said, "What about Araceli's daughter? She could be anywhere, and she needs to know who her parents were."

Knowing that this ventured into dangerous territory, Luisa sent Miguel out to the workshop to retrieve the other members of the family. Elena walked in, becoming concerned when she saw the look on her daughter-in-law's face.

"Qué pasò, mija?" Elena asked. "Did Miguel ask about it again?"

"I'm not sure what to tell him, Mamá Elena," Luisa said as she finished getting food out on the table. "I don't feel like this is appropriate for him. Some of this implies that Araceli was, well, taken advantage of by de la Cruz. And I don't know how I feel about Miguel knowing that. He's way too young."

Elena understood. She was aware that this could possibly be the answer behind Araceli Torres' death. But she also knew that regardless of who this woman's biological parents were, someone out there was Torres' daughter. And she had no idea who her parents were or where she came from.

"Recuérdamelo de nuevo*, why are we doing this, Mamá?" Enrique asked as he set up the video camera. "You hate using the computer!"

Feeling a sense of confidence overtake her, Elena answered, "We need help, Quique. That's no secret. If anyone out there knows or is Araceli Torres' daughter, the Internet can help us. Besides, I can't keep standing up on orange crates in the middle of Plaza de Mariachi!"

Cracking a tiny smile, Enrique finished setting up the camera and said, "Okay, Mamá if you're sure about this. Just start talking whenever you're ready, just like we rehearsed."

Taking a deep breath, Elena looked at the camera and started to talk. While Elena didn't speak any English, she knew that Gloria could help with subtitles later if need be.

"My name is Elena Rivera, and I am the matriarch of the Rivera Shoes in Santa Cecilia, México. We need your help…"

Ten minutes and three takes later (mostly due to loud noises off camera, courtesy of the twins), Elena was able to post the video online. While she never understood videos and the Internet, she understood that time was of the essence.

"How long do you think it will take, Berto?" Elena asked that night at dinner.

"It can take some time, Mamá," Berto answered truthfully. "You only posted the video an hour ago."

"We need to get some answers, Berto!" Elena said. "That pobre niña needs to know who her real parents are. After all, we didn't divulge detalles específicos."

When the video started, Elena was careful not to mention any specifics, wanting to do what she could to protect the woman's privacy. All she said was that she needed the public's help in locating a daughter of a Mexican American film star who was born in the 1940s and was raised in New Mexico. A sketch was even included in the thumbnail; one that Martinez had drawn based on the likenesses of both Torres and de la Cruz. Much to the Rivera's relief, it looked like Torres' daughter inherited a great deal of her mamá's looks.

"There are hundreds of actresses who grew up in Los Estados Unidos, Mamá," Enrique said. "Hopefully one of them can provide an answer."

When Elena woke up the next morning, the first thing she did was make her way to the computer, where Rosa and Miguel were being supervised by Carmen. Turning around briefly to say 'buenos dias' to Elena, Miguel hopped off the chair and headed over to his abuelita.

"The comments are in, Abuelita," Miguel said. "We have over 1,926 comments on the video. Most of them are in English, but several are in Spanish. We can ask Tía Gloria and Abuelito to help us go through them when they get back."

Deciding to sort through the Spanish comments first, Elena's eyes widened. This was a lot to look through for just one person. And some of the comments were clearly from disgruntled people from Santa Cecelia. But there were some good comments in there too.

I like tacos.

Have you tried looking up a census?

Can you put my sandwich inside a shoe?

SHOOT ME A MESSAGE FOR A FREE TAMALE! CLICK HERE AT THIS LINK!

"What do people think I own?" Elena grumbled in annoyance. "Un restaurante?"

Can't you just leave that poor woman alone? You've done enough damage already.

You're a nutcase.

I grew up next door to someone who lived in New Mexico in the 1950s; her mother was adopted and never knew who her biological parents were. She's since passed away but her daughter moved back to Ecatepec City. DM me for deets.

"Detalles, Mamá," Enrique clarified when Elena's brow furrowed in confusion. "And it does sound like that comment is saner than the others, but we'll have to have Gloria translate the English comments when she wakes up."

As Elena found out, Gloria's translations proved effective but most of the comments were either insanely off-point ("Why do I need a free vacation to Iceland?") or threatening ("Who does this person think she is to tell me how to raise children?")

"That one comment Miguel found sounds like something, Mamá," Gloria said as she turned the computer off. "We should get in touch with that person. Find out what they know."

Leaving Abel to get in touch with the person (helped by Gloria in case there were translation issues), Elena and Miguel left to head back to the living room.

Along the way, Miguel quietly said, "Abuelita?"

"Sí?"

"I've been thinking about that camp. Ya sabes, the one that Señor Talles mentioned en enero?"

Elena had almost forgotten about the music camp and Miguel did too. Between what was happening with the investigation to Gloria's situation, it had been three months of non-stop crazy. Turning to face her grandson, Elena said, "Sí mijo?"

"I don't want to go," Miguel said. "I don't want to leave mí familia. And I'm not sure I'd want to leave them. There's a lot going right now. And how would I contact our ancestors?"

Sitting Miguel down on the couch, Elena said, "Miguel, más lento. You don't have to make a decision right away about this camp. Take some time and think it through."

"But I have, Abuelita," Miguel answered earnestly. "I don't want to go. I want to stay here and maybe go to a camp locally."

Knowing that her grandson was serious, Elena said, "Okay, mijo. You don't have to go if you don't want to. But know that I'll support you no matter what you decide, bueno?"

"Bueno."

Translations

*remind me again