Chapter 5
"IMELDA!" I cried. "IMELDA, IMELDA!" She stopped, looked at me, and continued going I was confused. Was she pretending not to see me? "IMELDA! IMELDA; IT'S ME, HECTOR, YOUR LOVING HUSBAND! IMELDA!" I couldn't believe it; she was pretending that she didn't see me! It was as if I was invisible to her! I caught up to her, and grabbed her arm. "Imelda, why are you..." I pulled her arm off. She looked at me, and gasped. I grinned nervously. "Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to do that." She was now angry, and made her other hand slap me hard on the cheekbone. She grabbed her detached arm, and put it back on. She was about to go when I ran in front of her. "Imelda, why are you..."
"Oh, can't you take a hint, Hector?!" She snapped. "I'm mad at you!" I frowned.
"Oh, Imelda, I know. And you have every right to be. I did an unfair thing to you and Coco. It was never my intention to hurt you two. You must believe that. I'm sorr..."
"Well you did. Where were you!?"
"Look, I swear, I didn't cheat on you or choose music..." She slapped me again.
"Don't give me those excuses, and don't say that awful M word to me! Why didn't you come home?!"
"Well, it's simple. I died. I tri..."
"No, duh! We're all dead, Hector. You're going to have to come up with a better excuse then that."
"I think dying is a pretty solid reason why someone doesn't come back, Imelda. Be reasonable. Don't think the wors..."
"I can think what I want to think! How could you, Hector?! You really hurt me and Coco."
"I know, and I'm sor..." She scoffed.
"You know, the first Christmas that you were gone, Coco didn't wish for toys, she wished for one thing, for her father to come home." I was touched by this.
"She asked Papa Noel for you each year. I had enough of it, so one day, I sat her down, and told her the truth."
"Well, that's funny because I wanted to come home as a..."
"Leave, Hector." I was shocked by this.
"But mi amour, if you just let me explain. I..."
"Leave! This is the first and last time I see you here. I wish to see you no more."
"But..."
"Please, Hector." She began to cry. "Just leave." I was about to comfort her when she ran off. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" I ran after her.
"IMELDA, WAIT, I..." I gasped when a winged jaguar Alebrije landed in front of me. The beast gave a loud roar at me. I shielded myself, shaking all over. "N-nice kitty. N-nice Alebrije." Imelda ran to the beast's side, no longer sad. "Imelda, save me from this horrible beast. I..." To my surprise, she petted the animal. "Imelda?"
"Nice, Pepita." She said. She then glared at me. "This is Pepita, Hector. My Alebrije. Don't make me sic her on you because I will if I have to." A guy came up to us.
"Is this man bothering you, Señora?" He asked. I looked at him.
"No." I said to him. "I'm her husband."
"He's lying, and si, he is bothering me!" She told him. "We are divorced. I have no husband." I was even more shocked then before, not believing what Imelda just said.
"Imelda, no, I..." The man looked at me, not looking happy.
"I'm going to ask you to leave, Señor." He informed me.
"But, but, you don't understand. I..."
"If the Señora wants you to leave, you leave, capeech?!"
"I capeech, but I..."
"LEAVE!" I sighed, not wanting to protest any longer.
"Si, I'll leave."
"Good, and if I see you harassing her again, I'll call the cops." I wanted to say that I wasn't harassing her, but I didn't. I just did what he and Imelda said. I left sadly.
I got determined. I knew what to do. It might be loco, and I'll be a real fool if I fail, but I had to. My afterlife was sad with no one realizing Ernesto stole my songs, me being forgotten. and Imelda not wanting to see me. If I can correct one of those, my afterlife will no longer be as depressing. I can't make the living remember me since no alive person can come visit (that'll be a miracle if they can, then one of them can help me put up my photo, but that is wishful thinking and will never happen in a million years). It'll be hard, maybe impossible, for Imelda to forgive me. That just leaves me with just one thing, and it has me scared. I have to go on Dead Radio, and tell my fellow spirits about Ernesto. I know it'll be a long shot, and it probably won't work, but anything to shed some light on my miserable, depressing afterlife. Yeah, that's what I'll do. With that in my head, I went to the bus stop.
At home, I found Emilio...and Violeta. Emilio just gave her a drink from the fridge. He then saw me.
"Oh, hey, Hector!" He greeted. "Look who came to visit."
"Hola, Hector!" Violeta said to me.
"Hola, Violeta!" I said back. She then frowned.
"Emilio told me about how you died, and about your many attempts trying to visit the living world, and I'm so sorry. I can't imagine never visiting my family because they hated me. I can imagine it must be awful."
"It is pretty awful."
"He also told me about Ernesto's thievery."
"That was also awful. I trusted him, and he stabbed me in the back when I was dead no less, and couldn't do anything about it. But luckily, I have a plan that'll make my very tragic afterlife less tragic and depressing." This got them both interested.
"Oh, really? Tell me. Or I can leave if you want. I don't want to impose."
"No, no, you're not imposing anything. I can tell you."
So we all sat down. Emilio gave me a drink, and I told them the plan.
"Well," Violeta spoke once I was done. She stood up. "I have to go now. I hope your plan works, Hector. That jerk must pay to how he treated you after you died. He won't get away with this. If he wasn't already dead, I wish him to be."
"Oh, he can die again. Believe me; I've seen it, and it's not pretty."
After she left, Emilio told me what went down with Violeta's visit. Apparently, both her and her husband died in a horrible car crash.
We found the number to call Fernando of the Dead Radio in the Bone Yellow Pages. I called him, and was going to go on air with him in a week. I thanked him, and hung up. I was so excited!
I also told Cheech about it the next day. He wished me luck.
"I hope you're successful with your plan, Hector." My brother said that morning of my interview with Fernando. "I really do. It's about time spirits learn the truth."
"Thanks." I thanked him. "I hope so to."
I stood outside Dead Radio headquarters a week later. I was nervous. If I had a corozon, it would be beating in my ribcage right now.
Okay, Hector. I told myself. I know you're nervous, but relax. You waited a week, no, almost your whole afterlife to expose this backstabber. Do not under any circumstance screw this up. You got this. Give them your attention, and don't let go. With a deep breath, I walked into the building.
"I'm here for Fernando." I told the clerk behind the front desk. He looked at me.
"Aw, si, you must be Hector Rivera." He spoke. I nodded.
"Si, that would be me." He pointed at the door behind him.
Fernando's waiting for you. His office is through that door, and to the right."
"Gracias." With that, I walked to the door.
When I reached Fernando's door, I knocked on it, stood back, and waited. I was still pretty nervous. I have never done this before. What if I mess up? What if they don't believe me, and I turn into an idiot on national radio? I can't possibly do this, can I?
No, Hector. You can do this. You've gotten too far to quit now, Do it for Coco, for Imelda even though they don't care, and Coco doesn't have a clue. Do it for your entire familia. The door opened.
"Aw, you must be Hector." A short spirit said, He offered me to shake his hand. "I'm Fernando. Pleased to meet you." I shook his hand.
"Pleased to meet you too, and I know you're Fernando. Who else will be behind your door?"
"Good point." He shut his door, and locked it. We went onwards.
"So, nervous?"
"Si, I am."
"It's normal. I was nervous too when I first took the job as a radio host, both in the living and in the dead worlds."
"My Papa always say 'grab their attention, and don't let go.'
"Smart man."
"Si, he is."
"It's just around this corner here. And don't worry; this won't take long." We entered the door around the corner.
I never been in a recording studio in over fifty years, and was in awe. We both took our seats.
"Okay," Fernando began. "We're on in uno, dos, tres!" And with that, he pressed the 'on air' button as soon as the current song ended (and it wasn't one of my songs, thank goodness).
"Good morning my fellow Mexican spirits of the Land of the Dead!" He greeted into his mike. "How's death treating you? Pretty good I bet. I'm Fernando, and you're listening to Dead Radio! Today, I have a special guest claiming all of the songs from everybody's favorite musician, Ernesto da la Cruz were written by him, and Ernesto stole them, and made them his own after this guy's tragic death. Please welcome, Hector Rivera!"
"Hola, everybody!" I said into my mike. "Hola, hola, hola, hola, ho..." I saw Fernando's face, and stopped, but not before I finished "...la! I know that's too many holas, and I'm sorry. I'm just very friendly, it's in my nature, so I'll say it one last time. Hola, and I'm glad to be here!" What am I doing?! I didn't intend to be an idiot, but I apparently am. I wanted to die if I weren't already. Fernando talked into his mike again.
"Now Hector, tell me, and the listeners, about your story, and this song stealing
business."
"I'll be glad to, Fernando." And so I told him, and the listeners, everything.
"Well that's horrible." Fernando said when I was done.
"I know it is." I told him. "Everyone who I ever told my story has agreed, and said almost the same thing."
"That because it is terrible. Whoever disagrees has no soul. Someone like Ernesto." I laughed.
"Yeah."
"This is a lot to take in. Someone everyone idolized for decades turned out to be a fraud. And your daughter was only three when you left?"
"Si. She was far too young to be without her father."
"And you're 21?"
"Si again."
"So if I have this right that means you were 18 when you had her?" I shook my head.
Actualy, I was 17. She was born in January, and my birthday is November 30th. I died in early December, a few days after I turned 21."
"Gosh, so you and Imelda were really young when you had her."
"Well, it was the early 1900s,1918 to be more precise. People can have kids late in life, and people can have them early in life. As long as they're happy, and the kid is happy, healthy, and you all love each other deeply, that all that matters in the end."
"So, true. Gosh, I can't imagine ever leaving my kids that young."
"You were much smarter then I was. I wished I could turn back time."
"So, true. Your daughter's still in the living world I hope."
"Si, she is."
"You don't know what life she had?" I shook my head.
"No. I tried talking to Imelda, but she doesn't want anything to do with me. She thinks I abandoned them, so she banned music from their lives."
"Hold up, so when you didn't show up, she thought you abandoned her?"
"Yep."
"She just came to that conclusion, and nothing else, even after decades?"
"Yes."
"If you don't mind me saying, it sounds like Imelda's fault. She shouldn't have done that, and trusted you." He had a point I supposed, but it I was too ashamed with guilt to admit it. Plus, he's wrong. I knew how Imelda was. She begged me to stay with her and Coco, and I ignored both her and my little girl.
"It is my fault. Imelda was and still is very stubborn. She takes family very seriously, and when I left to her, it was like I didn't really respect her values. I disappointed her, Coco, my family, and Imelda's. I let them down. They were right to have done what they did. I don't deserve this afterlife, but I kind of do if you can understand what I'm saying."
"I think I do, but it's such a shame either way." I agreed with another nod, then remembered I was on the radio.
"Si."
"Anyways, despite you not being able to cross over, you still try to every Dia de los Muertos?"
"I'm still a part of their famila whether they like it or not."
"That's also very true. Well, I think that pretty much wraps up this interview. Thanks for being with us, Hector."
"Thanks for having me." We both shook hands.
"Well folks, you heard it here. The truth about Ernesto da la Cruz exposed. May he be arrested, and rot in prison for all eternity. And now, here's Ernes...Hector Rivera!" The interview was now over with. I sighed with relief, finally having that over with. I was proud of myself, and knew a lot of spirits were too.
"Well, Hector," Fernando said to me. "Gracias for coming to do this interview. I know it wasn't easy. It really took guts for what you did, standing up for yourself. And for that, I appreciate it. We're all going to see Ernesto in a whole new light. You must be so proud of yourself."
"De nada." I said back to him. "And I am proud of myself. It's like a whole new me, and it feels great."
"Well, you're welcome to come back to my show anytime."
"Thanks." With that, we both bid our farewells, and I left.
As soon as the whole Land of the Dead found out about Ernesto's misdeeds, they hated him, and locked him up. Me? I was loved, and moved into his enormous mansion. It wasn't all exactly how I wanted it, but it was good enough for me. The end.
Again, that's a lie. Unfortunately it got worse from there. A lot worse.
On the bus ride home, I heard Ernesto talking to Fernando on the radio. Wow; that was fast! Was he just waiting outside when my interview was done?
"Hector is confused." Ernesto told Fernando. What?! "He is not well. He is jealous because he died during his music career and I didn't. I feel bad for him. I'm sorry this led to him lying to all of you. I can guarantee, I wrote all of my songs 100%. I wouldn't lie to my fans." I stood up like a bolt, and looked at my fellow passengers.
"He's lying though his teeth, can't you tell?!" I snapped. "Don't tell me you all believe him, do you? I'm the one that should be loved and adored, not him. He's nothing but a sneaky dirty rat."
I was then kicked off of the bus. I had to walk the rest of the way to Emilio's.
"Hey," I overheard someone say to his friends at my job the day after my radio interview. "Did you hear the radio yesterday on Dead Radio with the Hector Rivera interview?"
"I sure did." Someone else at his table answered. "I recognize that name as a waiter who served me a few times here." He shrugged.
"Could be him. Could not be."
"It sure sounded like him." Spoke someone else.
"He may be in trouble then." I stopped dead in my tracks then, and listened, ignoring the fact that I had a job to do, and had to serve this food that I was carrying. I didn't care. I had to hear the rest of this.
"Why?"
"I don't believe him." The first skeleton said. What?! "I think he's just a wannabe musician that wanted attention. That is why he straight out lied to Fernando, just like what Ernesto said in his right after."
"Yeah, I think you're right." His friends agreed. "Poor guy. I don't know to hate him or feel sorry for him."
"Well, I don't feel sorry for him. He attacked Ernesto's reputation, and I won't stand for it. He should be fired and in prison." Again, his friends agreed.
I was about to march over to yell at them when the guy who had ordered the food that I was carrying cleared his throat, clearly impatient having to wait for his food.
"I'm hungry!" He said. "And this is my lunch break. I only have fifteen minutes left!"
"Sorry." I said and walked to his table. "Here you go. Sorry to keep you waiting."
"You should be! Say, you're not Hector Rivera, are you?"
"Uh..." Should I lie to him in case he heard the radio, and didn't believe my interview too? I was going to hide my nametag, but he saw it anyways.
"You are aren't you? You know, you shouldn't have lied. You really made a fool out of yourself. I don't want you as my waiter." What?! Is this guy serious? He looked at me again. "But give me my food. I'm starving!" I didn't want to, but continued to serve him.
The rest of the day went by just the same. Apparently, everybody had listened to my interview on the radio, and Ernestos's, and they all didn't believe me. I just couldn't believe it. Had they all been brainwashed by listening to Ernesto all of these years? I couldn't come up with any other explanation, so that must be it. I didn't even want to be in a TV, or anymore interviews. I was donewith them.
They say that 'the customer is always right.' Not today. Today, they're wrong, Every single one of them.
"Hector, can I see you?" Carlos asked me when work was done for the day. I went to him, dreading this.
"Please tell me this isn't about the interview." I said.
"It is." I groaned.
"Let me guess. You don't believe it either. All of you are brainwash I tell you, every single one of you."
"Well, I don't know who to believe, But I do know this, Hector. I know you're a good guy, and won't do this just to get attention."
"Oh, thanks, That's so good to hear."
"I'm not mad at you, and you can keep working here, just don't overreact on what rumors you might hear."
"I'll try not to."
"Thanks. You may be dismissed." We both bid our adioses, and I left.
I told Cheech what happened, and how I felt about it.
"Well, that's a bummer, Hector." He said. "I'm sorry, truly I am."
"Thanks." My eyes began to well up with tears. I didn't mean them too, they just came.
"Are you crying?" I wiped away my tears. I thought about lying to him, but what was the point? He could already see me blubbering like a baby.
"I hate my afterlife."
"I know you do. I'll hate it too if I were you."
"I feel like I tried everything, but no matter what I try, it fails miserably every time. I was a nice guy who never hurt anyone. I don't deserve this. I never did."
"I know. No kind soul does." He then stood up, and walked off. I was confused as I looked up.
"W-where are you going?" He picked up his guitar, and sat in his hammock.
"This song is my favorite. It always cheers me up when I'm down, so I figure, why not you?" I listened as he began strumming it, and then sang in a smooth voice.
"That was beautiful, Cheech." I told him when he was finished, wiping away another tear, only this was a joyful one. He stood up to put his guitar away.
"Thanks. It's called 'Everyone knows Juanita'. Do you feel better?"
"A little." He smiled.
"But you know, I was shocked at some of the lyrics." He was confused at first, then got it.
"That's just the parent in you."
"I know."
"What would you change them too?" I shrugged.
"I don't know. Something to make it more kid-friendly."
"Well, we're both adults here. But if you sing this in front of a kid, you can change it all you want. But not me. I like it just the way it is."
"Okay. Say, Cheech?"
"Yes?"
"I've been thinking about it, and I want to move here." He was shocked.
"I suppose I'm going to the gym a lot more now, huh?" I smiled.
"Si, but that's not the reason I want to move here. I like this place, despite why this place exists in the first place. I like you, and everyone is so nice here. I feel like my second family is here, and I want to be closer to all of them."
"I thought you said you didn't belong here."
"I did, but I do now. If this place will have me that is."
"Of course you can stay here. But what about Emilio?"
"He'll be fine. He told me years ago."
"When do you think you'll move in?"
"As soon as I can."
I told Emilio my plan to move to ShantyTown.
"That's great, Hector!" He complimented. "You do whatever you feel like." I smiled, then frowned.
"Will you still be okay with it?" I wanted to know.
"Si, I'll be lonely without someone else here, but I'll manage." I smiled again.
"I know you will. I'll miss you too. I'm going to go back there tomorrow to look for a house."
The next day, I went back to ShantyTown to start looking at houses. They had no houses for me, so they were going to build me one. The estate agent said that my new house will be ready to live in in six months. So I said 'Gracias', and went back to my current house.
When I got home, I gave Emilio my six month notice. He vowed that he was going to make the next six months the most enjoyable ones of my entire afterlife. I told him he didn't need to, and that I was going to come back to visit, but he insisted.
One day, I was taking a stroll when I heard music coming from a nearby building. I looked, and decided to investigate. I went over to the source.
I looked though the windows, and couldn't believe it. Inside was Ernesto. He was singing, and strumming his guitar.
I then grew mad. This was his fault! If he had told people and spirits about my music, I wouldn't be getting forgotten, and I wouldn't be living the afterlife I do now. It would've all been different. I thought Ernesto was cool with me with just giving up, and going back to my family with my music. But no, he had to literally pry my music away from my dead body. He used me. I trusted him, and he betrayed me.
I was about to barge right in, and give him what for when someone spoke up.
"Hey, Chorizo!" Oh no! I looked, and sure enough there was Gustav, and his friends. "Long time no see."
"Por forvor." I said to him. "I like to be left alone." But he continued.
"Chorizo,"
"I have a name, and it's not Chorizo, it's Hector."
"Right, so anyway Chorizo, I like for you to meet my twin brother, Gustavo." I looked at the spirit beside him. Indeed, it was a splitting image of him.
"Cool, so anyways, I got..."
"Mateo, the bartender from when we met, has a twin brother too. His name is Matias."
"Fanstasico, now if you don't mind, I got a bone to pick with Ernesto da la Cruz, so I don't have time for your bullying today."
"Wow! We never heard that joke before. Does it have to do with your and Fernando's radio interview?"
"Si, now, go and mind your own business elsewhere. What are you all doing here anyways?"
"We come here to practice for Ernesto's Sunrise Spectacular." I was confused.
"But isn't that months away?"
"It's never too early to practice. Practice makes perfecto, mi amigo. Luckily, we get to practice in the same place as Ernesto and Frida Kahlo." That got my attention.
"Frida rehearses here too?" He nodded.
"Oh yeah, ever since she died, she had opened the show with an amazing performance each year. I wonder what she'll do this year."
"Yeah, me too." I then changed the subject. "So, I'm going to pick Ernesto's bone now."
"I don't think that's a wise decision. I wouldn't do that if I were you."
"Yeah, well, you're not me. You don't fully understand Ernesto like I do." I walked off.
"Ernesto!" I shouted to him going into the room he was rehearsing at. A security guard came into view, blocking my path.
"You can't go in there." He said.
"I have to." I told him. "I need a word with him." He blocked my path again.
"Hey, I know you. You tried to come into Ernesto's mansion. You're Hector Rivera."
"Yeah? What about it?" I then took one good look at him, and instantly recognized him. Indeed, he was the security guard that I met at the mansion.
"You couldn't talk to him then, and you still can't talk to him now. Ever since you backstabbed him on that interview with Fernando, Ernesto got outraged. I'm afraid you're have to leave."
"Well. I'm not. He backstabbed me when he stole my songs!"
"Yes, you will leave."
"No, I'm not."
"Do you want me to call the cops on you?" I folded my arms across my chest.
"Go ahead. I don't care."
"Okay, I will. Suit yourself."
The police came, and took me away. Fortunately, I only spent the night in jail.
Unfortunately, I got fired from my job. I was devastated when my boss told me. I had this job for over fifty years. Now with nearly all of the Land of the Dead hating me, I don't think I'll get another job anytime soon.
Months after, a few days before my big move, and the day before Dia de los Muetos, I passed by a clothing store. I would've skipped passed it, but something caught my eye. I ran back to the window, and pressed my face to it. It was a row of Frida Kahlo costumes.
Wow, since Frida's famous, her photos must be on hundreds of Ofrendas. This got me an idea, so I went inside.
I searched for one in my size, grabbed one, and tried it on.
I was amazed when I was done, and looked in the mirror. I looked just like Frida!
Next, I tried impersonating her voice.
"I'm Frida Kahlo!" I talked to my reflection. "Some of my works are inspired by Mexican artifacts and nature. I was disabled when I was a young child." I repeated this over and over in different high pitched voices, seeing which one I liked better, From the mirror, I could see skeletons staring weirdly at me. I turned to all of them. "Sorr..." I went back to my normal voice. "Sorry." I took off the costume, and went to the front desk.
"I want this Frida Kahlo costume, por forvor." I told the cashier as I plunked down the right amount of pesos. The cashier took the costume, and the pesos.
"You want this in a bag?" She wanted to know.
"Yes, please." After she put the spent money away, she took out a bag, and put the costume into it. She gave the bag to me, and my change.
"Here you go, Señor."
"Gracias."
"Have a nice day"
"I will. Adios!" I left the store.
At ShantyTown, I showed off Cheech my new costume.
"So, what do you think?" I asked him in the costume. I then talked with my Frida impression. "Pretty convincing, huh? It is, I, Frida Kahlo, no?"
"Well, your voice needs work." I was disappointed.
"Aw, come on! I thought I was doing a bang-up job." I talked in my normal voice again. "You try impersonating her voice."
"No, thank you, I'm good."
"Well, this costume will help me cross the bridge. I guarantee it."
"If you're sure. What if you cross paths with the real Frida as you're trying to cross?"
"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, literally." He sighed.
"Whatever you say."
And just as I said, I tried crossing the bridge with the costume on, and yes, I failed miserably.
I kept trying year after year, and some new tactics like me stuffing myself in a lady's purse, me holding on the back of a abreije, me throwing Cheech's femur for an abreije to catch (he ate the femur so Cheech will not be happy with that. I decided not to tell him), and other stuff that often times landed me in jail. One time like Chech said, I crossed paths with the real Frida Kahlo (that was awkward). They may be illegal, but hey, a desperate guy like me will do anything to cross over!
I also tried again, and again to connect with Imelda, again, with no luck. She sic Pepita on me a lot. And I try to talk to Ernesto. Oftentimes I felt like I didn't want to talk to him, but felt like I had to. I needed to be heard.
Also, over the years, my clothes got torn, and my hair got into a mess.
It got so bad at one point that I had to go to the dentist. The good news on that is they had to put a gold cap on. So now I have a gold tooth. I felt so special!
The process of crossing over changed too. Now you have to stand though customs, and a machine will tell you when or when you can't cross over, so you don't have to cross the bridge right away, you'll know already and don't need to see yourself.
Also, the Living lets kid spirits go before us adults, because they believe that kids are so eager to visit, so they go a day early. So November 1st is for the deceased kids,, or fallen angels, and November 2nd is for the adults like me. I get jealous of them sometimes. That means the holiday last for three days, October 31st (Some kids celebrate Halloween in Mexico too)- November 2nd, but the last day is the main one.
Sometime after the new millennium, I lost my Frida costume. Now how was I going try to con my way over?
Fortunately, a nice lady, named Cecilia, Ceci for short, makes Frida costumes for Ernesto's shows, so she told me that I can borrow them whenever I wanted. Such a generous lady!
Unfortunately, I'm bad at returning stuff, or keep losing them. Whitch reminds me, I still have some of Cheech's good napkins he lent me for my 100th birthday party. I wonder what happened to those.
The radio said some more news, most of them depressing. There's a president elect in America that I don't like because of all the lies he's saying about Mexicans, blah, blah, blah, and that he wants to make a border to separate the two countries. Sorry to go all political, but it's true! Man, I can't stand that guy, and I think most Mexicans, and even a handful of Americans agree. I fear for America. Truely I do.
It is now 2017, and the morning of Dias de Muertos. I'm probably going to fail, but I'm going to try yet again with my Frida costume.
Coco's now 99, next year she would be 100, so she doesn't have a lot of time left, and I fear that I don't either. I'll fade away soon like Libertad, and Jose. I might not even last the night. I haven't began to fade yet, but I can feel it in my bones,
So Coco, please, if you can hear this, your father is begging you, por forvor, recuerdame, for gosh sakes, remember me.