Chapter 2

"What?" I questioned.

"I said..." Emilio started, but I interrupted.

"No, no, I know what you said, but that's impossible."

"No, it isn't because..." I held up my hand.

"Stop. I know. I'm saying it's impossible because why wouldn't they put up my

picture? I've been dead since December. It's been eleven months, so why no photo? I have a photo of myself at your house, but I have more pictures of me back in Santa Cecilia, so why? It doesn't make any sense."

"I don't know what to tell you, Hector. My apologies, but..." I got an idea.

"Maybe they forgot, and are doing it as we speak."

"I kind of feel that's wishful thinking."

"I feel it is too, but I'm trying it anyways..." So I tried crossing over again with the same result. Emilio walked over to me.

"Like I said, wishful thinking." He offered to help me up and I accepted it.

"Maybe it's early, and they have a late start. Maybe they'll put my picture up later today."

"Possible, but a bit unlikely I'm afraid. All of Mexico knows of this holiday, heck even other countries know we celebrate it, so they wouldn't likely forget." I sighed.

"You're right. But they might've. I died near the end of last year, so they might not think of me gone yet, no that's stupid, I was there every day before I went on tour with Ernesto. But I still have a very little chance, but a little chance is better then no chance at all. Maybe now. I'm going to try again." I tried again with the same effect. "Maybe I'll try later in the day."

"Hector, I love you, I really do. Don't hurt yourself. Go home. I'm going to my family. See you soon." I sighed again.

"See you soon." And with that, he left. I watched him go along with other skeletons crossing the bridge, all except me.

"Señor!" I heard the agent call. "You can't stay there forever. You're blocking the way."

"Right. Sorry." With one last look, I left as well.

As I was riding the bus home (I was the only passenger), I thought of Imelda and Coco, and when I told them I was going on tour with Ernesto.

"You're making a big mistake, Hector." Imelda had said the night before I left. "I can't believe you're leaving us. What about Coco? She's three. I can't take care of her on my own. What about me? What about family?"

"Imelda," I had told her. "I'm not leaving forever. I'll come back. I'll still be in your and Coco's lives. In the meantime, I'll write letters."

"They won't be the same."

"I'll return home. I promise."

"Yeah, well, I still think you're making a huge mistake." I felt bad as she had her hands folded across her chest. I didn't really know what else to say to her, so I just kissed her, and left her to her sulking.

As I passed by Coco's room, I heard her sad sniffles. I looked, and walked into her room. She sat on her bed.

"Aw, don't cry Coco." I said to her. "You know it breaks my heart when you do." She looked up at me.

"Do you have to go, Papa?" She asked. "I don't want you to. I want you to stay here with me and Mama forever."

"I know you do." I wiped away her tears. "But Ernesto wants me to go on tour with him, and I don't want to disappoint."

"I want to go with you."

"But you have to stay here with Mama. I'll be doing important music stuff with Ernesto. I'll have no time with you or Mama if you both came. You don't want that. You two are better off here. Mama can work, and you can play with the other kids. I told your Mama I'll be back. It won't be forever, Coco."

"I know, but I can't wait that long." I frowned. It really saddens me to see my little girl upset. I thought of something. "Hey, I know we sang this song hundreds of times before, but why not again? For ol' times sake?" That cheered her up.

"Yeah!"

"Okay, don't move." She giggled as I went to Imelda and my bedroom to get my guitar.

The next morning, I had my guitar packed, and everything else that I needed in my suitcase. I was all ready to meet Ernesto at the train station.

"Papa, wait!" Coco raced in for a hug, "Don't go yet! Not without my goodbye kiss and hug!" I picked her up.

"Wouldn't dream of it." I said, and kissed and hugged her.

"Are you sure you still want to go?" Imelda, who had come to my side, asked. "It's not too late to back out." I looked at her, and put Coco back on the floor.

"Ernesto's waiting for me." I told her. I kissed her. "I cannot just not show up. I have to go. I'll be back when the tour's over."

"Adios, Papa!" Coco said to me. I smiled down at her.

"Adios, Coco." I looked back at Imelda. "Adios, Imelda. I'll write to you and Coco tonight, and every night." I then left before Imelda could say any more. I heard Coco calling her farewells to me over and over. I looked back, and did the same until I decided enough was enough, and resumed on walking forwards again.

"Is this seat taken?" I was transported back into reality, and looked up at an elderly skeleton. A hat was on his head.

"No," I replied, and let him sit next to me.

"Gracias." He thanked me. "I figured you were the only one here, considering you seem to be the only other passenger on this bus, but figured I'd ask anyways. I had a hard Dia de los Muertos, and it's not even seven yet, heck, it's not even six thirty."

"Not as hard as me I bet." He chuckled.

"Hard to imagine that. You look young, and it's Dia de Muertos."

"It would be one year in December since I passed."'

"I died in a mine explosion in 1899."

"That's the year before I was born."

"Is it now? So you are young! In your twenties I reckon."

"21."

"Well, I''m not going to say how old I am. Let's just say I'm way older, then you."

"Fair enough." I offered him my hand."I'm Hector." He shook it.

"I'm Chicharron. Anyways, it must be nice being young, seeing lots of relatives who remembers you." I frowned at this.

"That's where you're wrong. I wish that were true, but it's not. That's why I'm having a tough Dia de Muertos." He looked at me, not believing what I just said. And I don't blame him. I still don't believe it myself.

"What? Come on, that can't be right. A young man such as you must have at least two hundred family members still living."

"I do. It's just that nobody in my entire family put up my photo on the Ofrenda."

"But you said you died last December, so..."

"Yeah, I know. It doesn't make any sense why no one put up my photo. My amigo, Ernesto, saw me die from food poisoning as we were going to the train station to take me home from being away for months. We were musicians."

"I see."

We talked a bit more about our past lives, until Chicharron had to go. It was interesting.

On my way home, I saw a line of little girls led by a woman. One of them was...

"Coco!" I shouted. I ran as fast as I could, and scooped her up in my arms, hugging her. "Oh, Coco." The little girl who I held was yelling, but I didn't care. I was just glad to have her in my arms again. "Oh, Coco! Papa promises to never ever leave you again. Family comes first. I know that now.".

"Let go of her!" The woman shouted. I looked at her.

"But this is my daughter, miss. I'll never let her go ever again."

"No, she's not. Both of her parents are still alive."

"What are you...?" I then saw the little girl in my arms. She clearly didn't look like Coco. "Oh." I put her down on the ground. "Sorry. I thought she was someone else."

"Well, she's not!" The woman looked at the little girl. "Are you alright, Camilla?"

"Yes." The girl answered.

"Good. Now let's see Mama and Papa. That'll make you feel better." Camilla cheered up, and went back in line, and she and the other kids followed the woman. I looked at the building that they came out of. It was an orphanage, only instead of it being kids who parents are gone, it was dead children whose parents are still alive in the living world.

Poor children! And those poor parents in the living world having to go on without their kids. Parents should die first, not the other way around. But I know it doesn't always work like that. I'm kind of glad now that it's me down here, and not Coco. I can't imagine her here now, alone and scared, in an orphanage, and us up in the Land of the Living, and other kids we might have had. Though I want her in my arms again, she should live her life for as long as she can.

When I came home, I sat on the couch, and looked at the photo of me in my past life. I was stupid! Why did I leave Santa Cecilia? Why did I drop out of college to pursue music? Why did I listen to Ernesto? He wanted fame and fortune, not me. And I had to pick the bad chorizo, eat it, and pay the ultimate price for ditching my family. If I haven't done all of that, I wouldn't be here, wondering what could have been. I didn't feel like going back to try again for some reason.

Hours later, Emilio came home. I expected him to brag how his visit went, but he didn't. He probably didn't because he knew I would feel bad, and it would, but still it would be nice to know.

"So, how did your visit go?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't want to make you feel bad, Hector."

"I know you don't, and I appreciate that, but how did it go? Was it good or bad? You were gone a long time, so I'll say good. You don't have to tell me the details."

"I saw Mama and Papa."

"And? How are they?"

"Good."

"Good. They were good grandparents to Coco, and I imagine they still are. Coco loves them, and I know Coco would've loved her Tito Emilio too." Emilio smiled.

"Thanks, Hector. I wish I was a great father like you."

"I know you would've made a great one."

"Thanks, again." He then frowned. "I wonder what happened to Violeta." I frowned as well. Violeta was his girlfriend. They met and fell in love in high school. She fully supported him going off to war. She agreed to marry him when he got back from war, of course, that sadly never happened.

"She's good." I just said. I didn't mention that she got married herself. He didn't want to tell me about his visit to spare my feelings of me not having a chance to visit my family. I wanted to return the favor.

"I imagined she married someone else, right?" I just stayed silent, not wanting to lie, not wanting to tell the truth. "Hector, tell me. You don't need to hide it. Did she marry someone else or not? Look, I know you're not telling me to spare my feelings, and I appreciate it, but there's no need to. I'll understand. I'll get over it. I just want her happy. Tell me. Hector."

"Si, she got married to someone else." He got sad.

"Oh."

"I made you upset. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you."

"No. I'm glad you told me. I want to know. It's 'til' death do us part' if we were married. At long as he makes her happy is all that matters to me."

"He does. Last time I saw them, she was pregnant with their first baby." He looked like he just got punched in the stomach. "Are you okay?" He nodded.

"Si. If she's happy, so am I. She deserves it. I was just being paranoid." I understood. I can't imagine Imelda with another man, and Coco with a new Papa. I just can't picture them with another family. But I have to be strong. If Coco and Imelda are happy, so am I. Just because my life ended, doesn't mean theirs has to. I can't imagine it, but if that's the way it has to be, then so be it. I just want the very best for them.

"Hector, you okay?" Emilio wanted to know.

"Yeah. I'm alright." Emilio smiled.

"You know, they'll be alright. No need to fear. They, too, deserve to be happy." I smiled back.

"I know. I know they will."

"I know they will be too, same for Violeta, her husband, and future kid or kids."

The next day, Carlos asked me how my holiday was. I told him, and he felt sorry for me. People kept on talking about how their day was yesterday. I was jealous, but I didn't let it get to me. I faked my smilies, and did my job. Carlos noticed, and asked if I was going to be alright I told him that I was, He asked if I needed time off. I declined the offer, and told him I'll work, and I did. He never bothered me about it again.

After work on the bus ride home, I saw Chicharron again. He sat down next to me.

"So?" He asked. "How did today go? Were talks about their live relatives all people could talk about today?"

"Yeah." I answered. He clearly has been though this time and time again.

"They do that. It's like they have no idea that, people like us, lead different lives. They just assume we do the same things that they do. I just ignore them, and pretend to be happy for them. After all, there's nothing we can do."

"I ignored them too, and just kept to myself."

"Good."

"I just don't understand why this happened in the first place, you know? I died last December. They had eleven months to realize I wasn't coming home."

"Who knows? Maybe your friend didn't tell them that you were dead." I just looked at him. He had complely gone loco. This got me mad.

"Ernesto's my friend!" I snapped. "He may not have been a family man himself, but he knew I loved my family, so he would've told them, as hard as it may be." Chicharron put his hands up in defense.

"I'm sorry I offended you, Hector. I'm just stating the facts. It could be a possibility. Friends may turn on each other. They change over time."

"Not Ernesto. He was going to be my amigo for life! He would never go so low, and betray me like that."

"How do you know he was going to be your friend for life? You can't see the future, nobody can. I'm sorry, Hector, but..." I then had enough.

"Leave!"

"Uh, I can't get off until we get to my stop." I huffed.

"Fine, then sit far away from me." He got up from his seat.

"Okay, but I just want to say that I'm sorr..."

"Leave, I don't want to see you in my afterlife ever again." He looked like he would've said more, but he just sighed, and went off.

"You okay, Hector?" Emilio asked after I slammed the door as soon as I come home. "You slammed the door, so you seem pretty steamed. Mind telling me about it?" I didn't really want to, but knew that once I told him, I would feel better, so I did.

"I'm sorry about that." Emilio said when I was finished. "He had no right to tell you that, but he may have a point." I was shocked.

"You're taking his side?" I questioned.

"No. I'm just agreeing to that friends do change. What friend you made when you were five could not be your friend any more. As you grow, the way you see things changes too. It's kind of sad, but it's the truth." He then noticed my mad glare at him. "But I'm sure Ernesto's not like that. I'm sure he told your family as soon as he possibly could, why your photo wasn't up, I have no clue." I didn't buy it.

"I can't believe you're on his side." I just said to him.

"I'm not. I didn't say. All I said was..."

"You may not have said you were, but I know you are when you agreed to him."

"Look, Hector, I..."

"I want to be alone. I don't want to talk about this any more."

"But..." I left before he could continue. He didn't stop me.

I decided to go to the bar to help calm me down. When I got there, I went to sit down.

"One tequila, por forvor." I said to the bartender.

"Right away, señor." He started, then started mixing. Someone then took the barstool next to me.

"Give me the usual, Mateo." He said to the bartender. He nodded at him.

"So, how was the concert, Gustav?" Mateo asked as he gave me my drink.

"Oh you know." He said to him. "Same old, same old. We had a full house!"

"Oh that's good."

"Si, it was." Mateo gave Gustav his drink, and he took a sip, then sighed. "Aw, that's good stuff."

"I used to be a musician." I said to him. He looked at me.

"You were?"

"Yeah, I was."

"What made you quit?"

"I died."

"No way! Well, hate to tell you this, but we all are. That's why we're here. But I loved music so much that I continued to be one in the afterlife."

"I don't think I will be. My heart's not in it anymore."

"Oh, that's too bad. My heart is, and, will always be in music."

"I still like music, don't get me wrong on that. I just don't want to make music anymore."

"Okay, Whatever."

"Here's your chorizo." Mateo said to Gustav, giving him his pork sausage.

"Yum!" He stated, and started eating it. "Man, I love chorizos; so nice and spicy!" He looked at me. "Chorizos is the best food in the whole world." He said to me. "No doubt about it. You agree?"

"It's pretty tasty." I admitted. Then I muttered under my breath. "Unless you die from it."

"What? What did you say?"

"I said that they were tasty.."

"No, no, after that. It was so soft that I didn't hear it."

"It's nothing."

"No, it's something all right. Otherwise, why would you say it at all?"

"It's not important."

"Okay." He resumed drinking. I sighed.

"I said 'unless you die from it.'" I explained. He looked at me again.

"What are you..." I could see the gears working in his head. "Wait, did you choke on a chorizo?" I didn't want to say it, but I did anyway.

"No. It was food posening." He burst out laughing. "What? It's not funny. Quit it!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't stop. I never met anyone who was foolish enough to eat a bad chorizo."

"Well, congratulations. I am the foolish enough person to do it. I just ate a bad one, okay?"

"I'll say! This is too good; I have to tell my friends."

"No, you don't have to." He called his friends. They came over to us. I groaned, and did a facepalm.

"What it is, Gustav?" One of them asked.

"Get this," Gustav stated. "This guy died by eating a bad chorizo."

"Really?"

"Yeah, poor sap, right?"

"Poor sap is right!" He laughed with his friends. I rolled my eyes. Why is my death so funny to them? I didn't get it, and feel like I never will. I should've kept my mouth shut. I jumped to my feet, mad.

"IT'S NOT FUNNY!" I exploded. They all looked at me.

"Look, we're sorry if we offended you." Gustav said. "But, you have to admit, it was pretty funny."

"No, it's not! Laughing about death, or someone's misfortune is not remotely funny. It's downright disrespectful!

"Chill, man. You have to learn not to take everything so seriously. You have to look at the humor in things. Don't be so sent..."

"I do like to see the humor in things, but I didn't see any humor in that. I came here to cheer myself up after a fight with a friend and my brother, but you and you buddies made it a lot worse."

"Hey, you said you ate the chorizo. So, it's kind of your fault."

"You know what? I don't need this." I finished my drink. "I'm going home." And with that, I stormed off, but not without putting the money on the counter, and called Mateo to take it.

The next morning, and all thoughout breakfast, I didn't talk to my brother, not even when he tried to convince me to.

"Please, Hector." Emilio pleaded. "You can't stay mad at me forever." He sighed when I didn't make a noise. "Whatever! Maybe tonight."

At work, I overheard some people chatting about their former friends in life. They each said they made them when they were all really young. However, as they grew older, so did their interests. They were so different that time forced them to drift apart. I was so saddened by this that I walked over to their table.

"Don't you miss them?" I asked. They all looked at me, so shocked by my sudden question.

"Yeah, we do." The woman answered. "It's a shame that we're not together anymore, but you know, that was life. Every good thing has to come to an end, and we had that. You have to hold on to those moments, and the time you had with them, because you never know when things will change."

I mulled this over as they continued talking to each other. And I suppose she's right. This made me remember the time when I was sixteen, and in school, my friends and I invited a 15-year- old to our table due to a huge fight he had with his friend the previous night.

"Thanks, ladies." I said to them. They all looked at me again. "You made me realize something. Enjoy your meal." I let them be.

I hoped to see Chicharron on the bus ride so I could apologize, but I didn't. I didn't see him in the morning either. Either he was avoiding me because I was mad at him, and said I didn't want to see him ever again, or of the crowds of people riding the bus, or something else. The best thing about being dead is you can't get sick, ever, so that was no excuse for Chicharron's absence. Oh well, at least Emilio will be able to accept my apology.

"Emilio." I said to him at home. "I'm sorry about the other night. Friends do not always stay together, not even the best of friends. I know that now."

"That's okay, Hector." Emilio said back. "I accept your apology. Have you apologized to Chicharron yet?"

"No, I haven't seen him."

"You will. It's never too late to say you're sorry."

Years went by with me trying to cross the bridge with my brother and the other spirits. I failed each and every time. No one put up my photo. I didn't understand. I knew Imelda was upset that I didn't come home, but was she that angry with me? Was Coco angry with me too? I needed answers, and I wasn't getting any.

Coco was growing up. She was no longer the sweet, innocent little girl that I left. She was now becoming a woman.

"Are you ready to see if you can cross the bridge yet?" Emilio asked me one Dias de Muertos.

"No." I just said. "I decided to give up." He looked at me, surprised.

"What? You never gave up before after all of these years, so why now? I don't get it."

"I should've gave up long ago, but instead it was disappointment after disappointment, year after year. Coco's a grown woman now. I missed her quinceanera. I missed practically her whole childhood. I wasn't her father for almost her whole life. She must hate me now, and not want anything to do with me. I was a bad father, and a terrible husband, selfish and only thinking of music, not seeing what was most important, my family. So what's the point of trying to cross over? I failed them, and let them down big time. If I couldn't cross over last year, and the year before that, etc, what makes you think this could be any different? You go, and have a great time. I'll stay here doing whatever." Emilio shook his head.

"No, Hector." He said. "I can't let you do this. Where is that determined brother of mine? Where is that guy that I love, huh? You're not him. If you're staying behind this year, then so will I."

"What? No, Emilio, you have to go. They're our family! They're expecting you. I'll be fine like always, please, just go."

"But you're my family too, and families, they don't give up on each other. They support each other, and never give up when the going gets tough no matter what. So what if you can't cross over again? If you give up, you'll never know. You keep trying until a miracle happens."

"Sorry, Emilio. I'm not feeling it, and I don't think I ever will ever again." He sighed.

"Fine, then I'm staying with you." I groaned. "I'll see them again, we both will, when they come here, but who knows how long that'll take." I sighed.

"Fine; I'll go."

"Great, then what are we waiting for?"

We were next in line. I looked out at the many spirits crossing over, and succeeding, I wondered to myself. Could this be the year? Nah, then on second thought it could be. I won't know unless I try, right? Ah, what the heck! It might be crazy, but I'll do it; I'll try again for my brother and my family!

And so I walked on the bridge...and my feet started sinking. No, no, no! I fell down, and tried to paddle my way out again to no avail. I was hopelessly flailing like a fish again.

"Señor!" The agent called to me. "You have to go." But I didn't listen. "Señor!

Don't make me get security." She sighed, and got her security.

Two muscular looking skeletons picked me up.

"No, no!" I screamed. "Put me down! I have to see my family." But they didn't put me down, and started dragging me away. "NOOOOOOOOO!"

Suddenly, I lost control of myself, and began to fight them. They tried to calm me down.

But the next thing I did was punch one really hard where his nose would be, He looked at me, not believing what I just did. I didn't believe it ether. He then was mad, and I don't blame him. I would too.

"I'm sorry." I apologized, "I don't know what came over me." But it was too late. For the next thing I knew, I was in jail.