El Viaje de Coquita
El Capítulo Doce
Socorro ran toward la plaza with her brother and cousins in hot pursuit. Unknown to all of them, Coco and Héctor were also participating in the chase. Héctor whistled down an alley, summoning Dante to take part in the chase as well. The crowds began to thicken, causing the living people to gradually lose Socorro's trail. She was unable to shake Dante, but she figured it was just because he was a dog.
By the time she reached the gazebo, the only ones still following her were Dante, Coco, and Héctor.
She sat down on a bench to catch her breath, pulled her sombrero down lower over her head, and started searching her pockets.
All she could find was her copy of her brother's book.
Unknown to her, Héctor and Coco sat down next to her.
The girl began talking to the picture on the book's cover. "Papá Héctor... what am I supposed to do?"
Héctor knew she couldn't hear him, but couldn't resist answering. "You really should apologize to your abuelita."
"I know you didn't abandon us. I know you would've returned home if you could've. But nobody seems to want to find out what stopped you coming home. I want to find that out however I can."
"I wish there was something I could do about that, too, mija."
Her gaze drifted to the guitar in the picture. Then she looked up at the statue of Ernesto de la Cruz in the plaza, then the inscription on the base.
¡Vive tu momento!
A final look at the guitar on the book cover sent Socorro walking to the cemetery with her sombrero pulled tightly over head.
By the time Socorro reached the cemetery, the entire dead family had caught up to her. The twins crossed back over to see if Elena had joined them, while the rest followed the youngest of the Rivera family.
"Where's she going?" Rosita asked.
Coco shrugged. "All I know is that she wants to figure out why Papá never came home."
Héctor nodded. "There's not really anything we can do about it."
Imelda sighed angrily. "I swear, that girl would have a dropped pumpkin for a head if I wasn't dead!"
Victoria looked around. "So, why are we following Socorro? What are we thinking is going to happen?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out." Héctor gestured toward Dante. "And maybe the xolo can convince her to go home."
The dog barked at Socorro, trying to pass on his master's message. She responded by tossing a drumstick down the hill to get Dante off her trail, and she continued to trek up to de la Cruz's tomb.
Her peering through the window filled the dead family with foreboding.
Imelda watched her gently rattle the window. "She wouldn't!"
Socorro brought her body back as she watched a firecracker soar into the sky. "¡Ay, perdón!"
Victoria sighed. "She would."
As soon as the firecracker exploded, Socorro thrust herself into the window, shearing the latch off the window and allowing the 9-year-old girl to enter the tomb.
Héctor and Coco went up to the windows and watched as she snuck up to the marble coffin that housed the remains of Ernesto de la Cruz.
"What could she want with your guitar, Papá?"
"Your guess is as good as mine, mija."
She hopped up onto the coffin, jarring the lid slightly. As she composed herself, she reached out and touched the guitar's strings before wiping off the layer of dust that had built up on the instrument.
The girl's eyes drifted to the oil painting of the famous mariachi. "Señor de la Cruz? Please don't be mad. I'm Socorro Rivera. My great-great-grandfather, Papá Héctor? He said he used to play with you."
She took hold of the guitar, unaware of the pedals on the floor giving off a faint glow.
"My family thinks music is a curse because Papá Héctor never came home from a music tour. And my brother wants to be a musician just like you. This guitar could be the key to fulfilling our dreams; it could hold the answer to what happened to him." She hopped back down on the floor of the tomb and got ready to play a chord. "My family can shut away music. My family can make us shoemakers. My family can forbid us from talking of Papá Héctor. But they will never get in the way of me making this life my own!"
She squeezed her eyes shut and brought her fingers down on the strings with all her might, playing a chord as loud as she could manage.
The pedals around her glowed as bright as a dozen lanterns and blew out in a circle around her.
The dead Riveras stared with dazed confusion, trying to process what they had just witnessed.
The flash from inside the tomb had attracted the attention of a handful of living souls as well.
People started peering inside with flashlights.
"The guitar!"
"It's gone!"
"Somebody stole de la Cruz's guitar!"
"The window's broken!"
Socorro tried to hide from the flashlights and the eyes of the people outside.
But then, the crypt keeper unlocked the gate. "Alright, who's in there?!"
Socorro put the guitar down and stepped out with a sigh and her hands up. "How can this night get any worse?"
To her shock, the guard walked right through her like she was nothing but air.
"There's nobody here!" The guard picked up the guitar. "Check around the back!"
Héctor watched as Socorro staggered out of the tomb, passing through the living people who had gathered to see what happened to the guitar, and trying to comprehend what was happening.
She heard Miguel and Rosa calling out further down the path.
"Socorro!"
"Socorro, where are you?"
"Miguel!" She ran up to her brother and cousin, but she went right through them as she did all the other people in the cemetery.
Neither Rosa nor Miguel reacted to her presence.
"Socorro! Come home!"
Before she knew it, she fell backward into an open grave.
Her sombrero fell on top of her face as she landed.