It felt weird to dress in all black, especially since Héctor was used to bright, joyful colors. The black suit that he wore offended him somehow. Thankfully, he and Ernesto would only have to wear them for a short time.
After Mamá's funeral, they would immediately take them off. Héctor's didn't fit him right anyways.
It was Ernesto's old one, so it was a bit more stretched out and wider than what Héctor was used to. He adjusted the collar of his shirt for the fourth time and went to go find Ernesto.
The funeral started in twenty minutes.
"I'm almost ready, alright, Héctor?" Ernesto asked as he slicked back his hair. Facing another direction, he stared out the window. His hands were folded in front of him, and his eyes were narrowed. The long jacket of his suit made him look older and more dignified. His mouth was pressed into a line so thin that Héctor couldn't see his lips.
Héctor stared at him from his stance in the doorway. "Are you okay, Superhero?"
Ernesto groans. "Don't call me Superhero."
Héctor walked over to him and pulled on his arm. "C'mon. We gotta go."
"No." The word was bitten off, almost sounding harsher than Ernesto's usual tone.
Héctor continued to pull. "Mamá would want us both there. You know that." He stopped pulling for a second and stared at Ernesto. "It's only for a short time, Superhero. Then it'll be over."
Ernesto turned to look at him, a sadness in his eyes that didn't belong. "I don't want to see her." His voice was heavy and tears were brimming in his eyes.
Héctor put an arm around Ernesto, looking into his eyes. The first tears had started to fall. Ernesto looked empty, sullen, and upset.
Héctor sighed and continued to look at him. "It'll be okay, Ernesto." His voice cracked when he said Ernesto's name.
"I don't want to see her," Ernesto repeated, his voice sounding hoarse.
Héctor squeezed Ernesto's hand. "It will be fine. I promise. Now, let's go."
Ernesto allowed himself to be dragged away.
Mamá didn't look like herself.
Her hair was wispy and flowing in separate directions, thin strands of silver looking more distinct. Her makeup was smudged on her face, her cheeks looking pinker than normal. She wore a red sparkly dress that she'd worn for the holidays last year. And that weird smile was on her face again, making Héctor's heart clench. She looked too carefree and fun loving. He reached to touch her clasped hands. Her skin was cold.
He watched them carry her away after the funeral, hearing Ernesto's sniffs and soft cries beside him. He squeezed Ernesto's hand and lead him away.
Mamá's friends came to visit them three days after. They talked about her, positive things like her cheery personality or her kindness that she showed. Héctor listened to all their stories, remembering how he'd held Mamá in her last moments.
Ernesto refused to see anyone. He seemed to have a depression relapse, locking himself in his room and blocking out all company. All he seemed to do was stare blankly out his window.
Héctor folded each one of her outfits and dresses, laying them out on her bed when finished. He gathered all pictures of her and put them in his nightstand for safekeeping. Her makeup was put away as well.
Mamá.
He would miss her terribly, but one day, he knew he would see her again.
I know you'll grow up to be a great person someday.
As he gazed out her bedroom window toward the cemetary, her words stayed fresh in his mind, filling him with feelings of sadness and joy.
