Chapter 3

I felt so ashamed of myself. I really screwed up this time, both in my life, and in the afterlife. I never have been in jail before, and I never imagined being in one when I was dead. I thought the afterlife was like heaven, but despite all of the good things that have happened to me here, it doesn't feel like it, far from it.

Stupid rule! Dia de los Muertos traces back hundreds of years. How did the dead visit before photography was invented? By paintings and portraits? I honestly didn't know. I may have learned it from school or home or somewhere, but it was so long ago that I forgot.

I don't like to condone to violence. But I punched that guy; I did the crime, so I deserve the time. I try to keep my cool whenever someone pissed me of in the past, but it hasn't aways worked. But ever since I became a father, I became better at thinking before I act.

I imagine I might get fired over this, and I'll understand. I won't complain. If I do get fired from my job, I have to think of a new job while I'm here. I'll have a lot of time. I don't want to even think of it, but if it has to be, it has to be.

"Hector!" A guard said to me from the bars. "You have a visitor." I followed the guard to meet my visitor.

Once in the room, I saw Emilio sitting on a chair.

"You have ten minutes." The guard said, and left the room, closing the door behind him,

"I'm sorry, Emilio." I said to him. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I just wanted to go home."

"I know, Hector." He said to me. "We all make mistakes. If I was you, being denied to cross over time and time again, I would've done the same thing if I had a family. It tells me that you love your family, and would do anything to see them again." I smiled at this, and then frowned, changing the subject.

"I need to get out of here, Emilio. I don't belong here, but I deserve it."

"No, you don't, Hector. Si, you messed up, but under good intentions. You're a good guy. You have enough money to get out of here?"

"Probably."

"Then get of here. Tell the guard that you'll post bail."

"I don't know."

"Aw, come on, Hector." I thought about this.

"Okay, I'll post bail after you leave."

"Good. Oh, and I told your boss on what happened." I frowned at this.

"Oh."

"But don't worry. If you explain everything, I'm sure he'll understand. I did talk to him about this being a misunderstanding, but you have to do the rest. I can't win and battle all of your battles."

"I understand, and I very much appreciate it. I'll take it from here. I'll talk to my boss when I get a chance." Emilio smiled.

"I know you will, Hector."

After ten minutes were up, I did what Emilio wanted. I posted bail.

"Gracias!" The head officer said when I gave him the money. "And thank you for clearing this up. Luckily, you don't have to go to court over this. However, just because you want to see your family, and things don't go your way, that doesn't give you an excuse for what you did."

"I know, and don't worry, it won't happen again."

"Good. Gosh, I can't imagine having to go though what you are going though."

"Thanks." I'm kind of getting tired of hearing people pitying me all the time when I tell them my sob story.

"Well, I'm going to see my family now. Try to enjoy the rest of the holiday, and don't get into anymore trouble."

"I'll try, and I won't get into anymore trouble. Adios!"

"Adios!" And with that, I left the police station, and headed towards the bus stop.

I didn't get fired from my job. Carlos was really cool about it. However, he did warn me that if I land in jail again, that is when I was going to be terminated. He said that it would look bad if he has a employee with a criminal background working for him. I promised that he had nothing to fear, and went right to work.

"Hector!" Emilio said as soon as I came home that night. "Look whose here." I turned around, and couldn't believe it. It was my father.

"PAPA!" I shouted. I was so happy that I ran up, and hugged him on the spot. Now I can finally get some answers!

"Hey, hijo." He greeted. "It's been a long time. So, this is where you've been to after all of these years."

"Si. I have so many questions. How's Mama? How's Coco? How's Imelda? How's life after I died, and before you died? How did you guys find out about my death? How did you die? Did Imelda ever..."

"Whoa, slow down. One thing at a time." I withdrew from him. Now, before we get into anything else, I have to know. Were you coming home when you died due to homesickness?" I could see that he was now serious, so I got serious too.

"Si. I was."

"Emilio told me because I was hesitant of seeing you."

"You were; why?"

"Imelda, she hates you now. She banned music from her life, from Coco's, and convinced the family to do the same. She thinks you have chosen music over family."

"That's not true. Yes, I messed up big time, and shouldn't have gone to begin with. But that's why I was trying to come home, but I died of food poisoning on the way to the train station. I never got the chance to say that I was sorry, and she was right. Family comes first. Family always comes first before anything else."

"They never found your body." I was shocked about this.

"What? But that's insane! Ernesto was with me. Didn't he say anything?"

"He never came home, either." Now I was even more confused.

"Did he die too? I haven't seen him here."

"No, he didn't die. He's been starring in some movies. My favorite one was El Camino A Casa. It was his first, and his finest. It came out a few years after you guys left. Do you guys have a movie theater here? Have you seen it?"

"No."

"You should. Man, it's good. The actors, the plot, everything! It won an award for best picture, and a few others; that's how good it is."

"Well, maybe I will when I get the chance." I changed the subject. "I'm glad that Ernesto's now a movie star, and is happy with life, but he should've told you that I was dead. Imelda might've understood. She would've still been mad, but at least she and Coco would've had closure on what happened. I wonder why..." I then thought of something, but dismissed it. No, he would never do that. "I wonder why he didn't come home, and told you guys."

"I wonder that too, hijo. I wish I could go back, and tell them what happened, that you're safe and sound in the Land of the Dead, but I can't. Maybe if they knew the truth, Imelda would ease up, and finally put up your photo."

"Imelda's an impossible woman; you know how she got."

"True, but anything's possible."

"Yeah, you're right on that." If anything's possible, then...no. Again, Ernesto wouldn't do that, could he? No, he said he'd move heaven and earth for me. Amigos help their amigos. I have to stop thinking of the worst of him, he would never do anything like that. I'm positive. Anything is possible, but anything but that.

"Imelda didn't want to find out where you and Ernesto went to, but I wanted to. Both your mother and I. Unfortunately, we never found out." He changed the subject. "Boy, good thing your mother's not here, otherwise you'll get the shoe." I chuckled at this.

"Yeah, good thing."

"So whenever she gets here, you better watch out."

"Thanks for the advise."

Like me, Emilio invited Papa to stay with us. I was overjoyed by this. Papa said he'd stay, but when Mama passes, he wants to move out with her. We agreed. We will be sad when Papa moves out, but like life on Earth, we have to enjoy his company while it lasts!

Until my papa started his new job, he, Emilio, and I did all sorts of activities together. We all went to a wrestling and futbol (soccer) game, drank in a cantina (thank goodness Gustav and his buddies weren't there. That'll be a major embarrassment too if they started their sophomoric behavior of teasing me again about how I died in front of Papa and Emilio.), saw temples, the pyramid, ancient civilizations, saw a museum, ate at restaurants, went on a hike in the jungle, and saw some street art. Nearly everything in Mexico is here in the Land of the Dead.

"Papa!" Emilio called as soon as he came home from work. "Hector! I'm home, and I bought cake!" We went to him, and indeed, in his hands was a cake container.

"What kind of cake is it?" Papa wanted to know.

"Banana Tres Leches Dessert Cake." Emilio answered.

"Yum! You know me so well!"

"Si, that and it was someone who got hired last month's birthday today, and she told me that I could take one home for you and Hector."

"Such a gentle soul." Emilio noticed my expression.

"Hector, what's wrong?"

"Today would've been Coco's 21st birthday. She's now my same age. Next year she would turn 22, a year older then me, her Papa. She's going to get older while I stay the same age."

"Hijo." Papa said to me, serious now. "I knew today was Coco's birthday. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to upset you."

"Me too." Emilio added. "If you want, you don't have to have a slice of cake."

"No, are you loco? Of course I want cake! Just because Coco and Imelda are preventing me from crossing over, I still love them with all of my crozon."

"We know you do." Papa stated. "We do too, and we always will no matter what."

"And plus," I added. "Who would deny cake?" They both smiled, and Papa wrapped his arm around me.

"That's my hijo!" Tres Leches was Coco's favorites, along with flans, enchiladas, sapodillas, churro bowls, and other Mexican goodies.

Minutes later, the three of us were sitting at a table having tequilas and slices of Tres Leches. We each said 'Salud' before drinking our tequilas, and began eating our desserts.

We were listening to the radio a few years later. The radio has channels from the living word, as well as this one. It's good to stay up to what's happening in the living world, as well as this one. We hear good news and bad news. The news can be still depressing as ever.

Then one day, my now dead friend, Ernesto sang a song on the radio, but not just any song, it was my song for Coco, word for word, it was Remember Me, only it was much livelier than mine.

"Isn't Remember Me a song you wrote for your daughter, Hector?" My father asked me.

"Si." I said. Why is he singing my song? I wrote it for Coco alone, not for the whole world.

"Maybe it's his own version." Emilio suggested as if reading my mind. "Maybe he's singing it to remember you, Hector. Such a generous friend."

"Yeah, maybe. But I wrote it for my little girl, not for the world. Ernesto knows this. I told him when we were on tour I didn't want to sing it for anyone else."

"Well, he obviously didn't listen for its on the radio. Maybe at least he'll credit you for the song."

"Yeah, maybe." But I was still kind of mad. I didn't give him permission, granted I was dead, but still! He had no right to!

"And that was Ernesto de la Cruz's hit when he was alive," The announcer said over the radio."Remember Me! And Ernesto's here in the studio with me right now." I stood up like a bolt.

"What?!" I snapped. "That was my song; that sneaky rat!" I folded my arms across my chest. "I don't want to hear any more. Turn off the radio."

"Hector." Papa warned. "Let's see what Ernesto has to say before you just accuse." I became calm.

"Fine." We all listened to the radio some more.

"First off," The announcer spoke again. "I'm really sorry you died tragically by being crushed by a bell at your last public performance."

"Thank you." Ernesto's voice said to him. "It was a shame to leave my fans so tragically like that, but as my song Remember Me states, my fans will remember me, remember my movies, and my legacy forever. It was almost like singing Remember Me as my last song was a sign from the universe that my short time on Earth was up, and I'll forever be thankful for that, and still will be as I continue living my dream, and doing what I love right here, in the Land of the Dead."

"Truer words have never been spoken."

"He's lying!" I spoke. "He should be ashamed of himself, singing my song that he wasn't suppose to sing, and claiming it as his own. I'm sorry, but, he deserved to be crushed by that bell. That's what I call karma." Okay, he didn't deserve it, nobody deserves to die, no matter what the vile and wicked deed they do/did, but he deserved something.

"Hector, please!" My father stated. "I'm trying to listen."

"Why you want to listen to this traitorous sleazeball is beyond me." My father hushed me yet again, so did Emilio. I don't know why, but I stayed to listen, but continued doing my childish sulking.

"What made you write Remember Me?" The announcer asked.

"Here comes your credit, Hector." Emilio said.

"I wrote it for my fans." Ernesto answered. "I want them to remember me. I love my fans, and my fans love me. My fans made me who I am. That and music of course. I don't know who I'd be without them."

"That's sweet. So, any plans on any future performances in the Land of the Dead?"

"I'll keep you and my other fans, and near future ones, posted."

"You do that, Ernesto. This is Fernando on Dead Radio. Adios, folks!" Papa turned off the radio.

"Do you believe me now?" I asked.

"We have always believed you, Hector." Emilio told me. "Somewhere down the road, Ernesto changed for the worst. I'm really sorry about how he betrayed you like this. I can't believe it."

"Did you two have a falling out while you two were on the road?" Papa questioned.

"We had an argument when I decided to leave." I admitted. "But it wasn't anything major. He eventually let it go, and offered me a toast of tequila shots. He also walked me to the train station, and you know the rest." Papa looked like he was about to add something when he saw Emilio shaking his head, so he didn't. I didn't know exactly what he was going to say, but it was probably for the best.

"Well, he still stole your song, Hector, and that is something I won't stand for."

"Me either." Emilio added. "Some day his fans, both old and new, will see what he's done, and they, just like us will not be pleased." I smiled.

"Thanks, guys. You're the best familia a fellow could ever ask for. He may have stolen my entire songbook, but thanks again." They smiled back.

"Of course, son." Papa stated. "Families support each other though thick and thin, no matter what." I smiled yet again. This is such a bittersweet moment that I couldn't help it. I was just so happy.

I finally saw Chicharron after all of these years. I couldn't believe it when I was assigned to serve him when he came to Carlos' Loco Tacos.

"Can I get your..." I looked at him and froze like I just saw the president of Mexico.

"Hola, Hector!" He greeted. "Long time no see!" I went back into reality, and beamed.

"I'll say; where have you been all of these years? Why haven't I seen you on the bus?"

"I moved."

"Moved where?"

"ShantyTown."

"ShantyTown? I haven't heard of it."

"You haven't heard of it?" I shook my head.

"It's where the forgotten spirits go to spend their last days or years."

"Last days or years? What are you talking about?"

"I'll tell you later."

"Why can't you tell me now?"

"I don't want to keep you from your work. Take my order, and maybe I'll tell you later." Once again, I snapped back into reality, and remembered what I was doing.

"Oh, right, sorry. What will you like to have?"

"So, you know him?" Carlos asked me as soon as I was done taking Cheech's order. I nodded, looking at him.

"He and I met on the bus years ago almost a year after I passed. One day, we had a fight. I wanted to apologize, but I haven't seen him since."

"I thought you knew him. That's why I sent you over to take his order." I was shocked at this.

"Wait, you?" He nodded. "H-how did you know?"

"When he came in, he pointed you out to me, and I thought you two should reunite after years of bing apart."

"Well, gracias. I really appreciate this."

"De nada."

I gave Chicharron his food.

"Here's your food." I announced, and put it on the table. I looked to see if anybody else wanted food. When I didn't see any tables that needed serving, I sat down across from him. "Okay, tell me more about this place."

"Why tell you when I can show you? When do you get off work?"

"8:00."

"Perfect. I can meet you outside after your shift, and I can take you to ShantyTown."

"As much as I want to, I don't want to worry Papa and Emilio."

"Wait, you're living with your Papa now?"

"Si. He just passed a few years ago. My Mama's still living though. Once she passes, he's going to move out, and live with her."

"I see. Well, you can either come with me now, and call to tell them on my phone at home, or we could do it tomorrow." I thought about this.

"Tomorrow might be best."

"Okay, I'll see you at eight tomorrow."

"Tomorrow's Friday. On Friday and weekends, the restaurant closes an hour later."

"No problem. I'll see you at nine then."

"See you then." I left him to eat in peace.

At home, I told Papa and Emilio that I was going to be late coming home tomorrow. They both were fine with it like I knew they would.

"I was going to ask if you want to move there, Hector." Emilio stated. "Since that's where spirits who don't get to cross over goes to, but I felt that it would upset you, and you like living here anyways, so why bother?"

"You made the right call. I don't want to label myself, and I feel like living here has done me good. I like living here with you and Papa. I don't see myself moving, and leaving you alone. What kind of brother would I be? I already made that mistake in life, and I'm not going to do it again in the afterlife." He smiled.

"That's sweet, but I'll be fine either way, lonely but fine. If you ever change your mind, you know you have the option."

"Thanks, but no. I'm fine just where I am."

After work the next day, I met Chicharron outside of my workplace.

"Ready to go?" He asked. I nodded. "Then, what are we waiting for? Let's go." And so, we went to the bus stop, a different one then I'm used to.

"Welcome to ShantyTown, Hector." Chicharron announced as soon as we got off. I looked around. ShantyTown was a real shanty town. I looked at my friend.

"You live here?" Stupid question! He said he lives here, dummy! But as soon as the words left my mouth, I couldn't take them back. The damage was already done.

"Si, it may not look like much, but it's home. I made friends here. Down here we're all family, every single one of us. I belong here."

"That's nice and all, but you live here because you are being forgotten, Cheech. You all are. No one deserves that. Can I call you Cheech? It's shorter then to call you Chichcharron all the time."

"You may. I don't mind a nickname. But I'm not calling you 'Hec'

or 'Tor'."

"I wouldn't want you too. Just Hector is fine."

"Good, and you're right. A nice soul like me doesn't deserve to be forgotten. All the kind souls here don't, but sometimes that's how it is, and you can't stop it. It happens to everyone eventually, and it's no fun. But here I'm not alone. Here, I'm with my own kind, however sad it is."

"I still feel bad about you living here, but whatever, it's your makes you happy I guess." Cheech smiled at me.

"You darn tootin'! My house is just this way." I followed him,

As we walked, he greeted his many titos, tias, and cousins (Again, not his real relatives, but he's been around them long enough that it feels that way to him).

"Then I'm your Cousin Hector!" I declared. I then looked at him. "If you want me to be your cousin that is."

"I'd like that very much, Hector. Cousin Hector. I like that. Has a nice ring to it."

"Your darn tootin' it has a nice ring to it!" I noticed him looking at me. "Too much? Yeah, too much. Sorry."

"Well, this is the place." He announced once we were there. It was a little bungalow. We went inside. I looked around, and was impressed. There was a mini fridge, a hammock, and to my complete surprise a guitar. I pointed at it.

"You play?" He nodded.

"A little. I'm not a musician like you were, Hector. I like playing it when I'm feeling down. It soothes me."

"I agree. Music soothes the soul. You know I use to play it, and every instrument imaginable back when I was alive. Music and my family was my whole life until, well, you know."

"I know." He changed the subject. "So, any luck crossing over on Dia de los Muertos, and reuniting with your living family?" I grew sad again.

"No. Not even once since I last saw you."

"Oh, that's a shame."

"Si, it is. I was going to give up, but Emilio convinced me otherwise."

"Smart brother you have there. You don't want to be forgotten, then it's too late. You can never get back." This got me confused.

"Wait, what?"

"Aw, I said too much. I don't want you to worry about that now. Forget about it. Come, I'll give you a tour of this place." But my mind was still on what he said before.

"What do you mean too late?" He didn't answer. "Cheech, what do you mean by..." We then heard a knock at the door. Cheech went to answer it.

"Aw, hola Jose." He said to a skinny, hunched spirit.

"Hola, Chichcharron." He handed him a music box. "Here, I want you to have this before it's too late. You're right. It did lift my spirits."

"Gracias. I'm glad it helped, amigo." He was about to go off when something happened.

I don't know what it was. Jose just collapsed to his knees after a flicker of orange flickered though his body. Cheech ruched to his side, and aided him to the hammock.

"Here, amigo." He said. "For your comfort until you go." He smiled.

"Thanks, and who's your company?"

"I'm Hector." I stated, going over to him. He smiled.

"That's nice. I'm Jose."

"What was that flicker of orange going though your bones, Jose? Are you alright?"

"He's almost forgotten, Hector." Cheech answered for him. "He's fading away from this word." I looked at him.

"What? What the heck does that mean? What's happening?" But they ignored me. Cheech turned on the music box.

"Thanks for being my amigo all of these years, Jose."

"De nada." Jose thanked him.

Suddenly, all of Jose's bones glow bright orange again, then he turned to dust and blew away in the wind. Cheech looked sad, and took off his hat, and closed the music box, ceasing the music. I was confused by all of this. Why isn't Cheech telling me what just happened?

"Well, it finally happened." Cheech said. "He finally succumbed to the Final Death."