El Viaje de Coquita
El Capítulo Dieciséis

Héctor led the way down the street as he skimmed through Socorro's book with gusto. "So, your brother wrote an entire book about me?"

Socorro checked the ear covers on her sombrero to ensure they were in place. "Sí. He actually taught me how to read with that."

"He must have been a very good teacher, then."

Socorro nodded. "He and I would sneak out to Mariachi Plaza all the time. He would play a guitar he made all by himself, and I would sing the songs you wrote."

"Just like me and Imelda before I went on that music tour?"

"Sí. He also wants to know why you never came home, but he promised Mamá Coco that he would keep all the letters and your foto safe from the rest of the familia, so he's afraid to look for answers and risk having the others find out."

"Is that why he wrote that book?"

"Sí. It was so he wouldn't have to keep the secrets bottled up, and also to ensure that nothing can happen to Papá Héctor's memories."

"Hey! You got my name right this time!" Héctor suddenly noticed that Socorro was walking with bouncing steps, as if there were springs on her heels. "Eh, what are you doing?"

"I'm walking like a skeleton so I can blend in."

"Eh, skeletons don't walk like that, mijita."

"It's how you walk."

"No, I don't."

"Papá hasn't been remembered for a long time, so he doesn't recover as easily as the rest of the familia."

Socorro noticed all the twine and duct tape holding Héctor's bones together. "Ah. I see." Her attention soon drifted to a large billboard. "Ernesto de la Cruz's Sunrise Spectacular?"

Héctor heaved a sigh. "Every year, Ernesto puts on a dumb show to mark the end of Día de los Muertos."

"So, if we get tickets for the show, we can talk to Ernesto about what he knows about you?"

Héctor grimaced. "Not... quite."

Coco nodded. "He's not going to let just anyone talk to him during the show. And you need to get home before sunrise."

"So, do either of you have any ideas on where we can find him?"

Héctor stroked his chin. "Bueno, I do know that Frida Kahlo will be performing the opening act."

"Frida Kahlo?" Socorro gasped. "You mean the Frida Kahlo?"

"Sí. I'll take you to the rehearsal hall."

Socorro followed after Héctor, Coco, and Dante with wide eyes.

The rest of the deceased Riveras followed Pepita as she sniffed after Socorro's trail.

Imelda watched as the giant jaguar sniffed along a row of garbage barrels. "She couldn't have gone far. Keep looking."

Rosita looked to her brother and niece. "I do hope we find Coco soon; I have so many questions for her."

Julio nodded. "It's not like her to defy her mamá like that."

"I have a feeling it has something to do with Abuelito."

"She told me about him every night when I was alive. But I didn't want to get her hopes up that her papá hadn't abandoned his family."

"Abuelito has been tearing the family apart in life and in death. Why would Mamá choose him over the rest of the family?"

Her father laughed nervously. "Bueno, Mamá Imelda did kind of hold Socorro in a tight spot with going back home."

"Even so, the rest of the living family would be against Socorro singing, especially since she might have put Elena on an early train here."

"At least she made it as far as Julio."

"So, she has that to be proud of."

"Even if her death wasn't from old age."

"Or from a natural disease."

"But there are worse ways to die."

"And we can name a few."

"Will you two cut that out?!"

The twins gulped. "Sorry, hermana."

That's when something occurred to Rosita. "Did anyone else notice that Miguel looks almost exactly like Coco's papá?"

Óscar pondered this. "They do look quite similar."

As did Felipe. "They even sound the same."

"And act the same way."

"There's hardly any difference."

"Apart from Miguel having flesh."

"Though not much of it."

"That's enough!" Victoria took a calming breath. "Even if the implications of this are true, that still doesn't absolve Abuelito of the pieces he left us to pick up."

"What do you mean, mija?"

"Music still tore the family apart because he lost his life while pursuing music."

"You do realize that you also died away from home? In México City, no less."

"No me recuerdes, Papá. And we can thank Elena for finding out what happened to me."

Rosita was still confused. "But why did la familia know about your death but not your abuelito's?"

"Probably because there were un ciento y sesenta y seis other people that died with me. And it was diecinueve ochenta y seis, so news of what killed me spread a lot faster."

"And you were going to Puerto Vallarta to see if Rivera Shoes had any potential in America."

Rosita pondered this. "So then, Coco's papá must have died alone or in a way that wasn't all that notable."

Julio nodded. "I remember reading about Ernesto de la Cruz's death in the newspapers shortly after Viquita was born."

"But he was already a famous musician and actor before the bell fell on him."

"At any rate," Rosita bit her jawbone in worry, "I'm starting to wonder if Mamá Imelda is missing some details about Papá Héctor."

"I still don't know if I'm willing to trust Abuelito or not for everything that's happened because of his disappearance."

"We can ask questions once we find them and Socorro is sent home." Julio peered toward Imelda as she was led under a bridge. "But why did Elena go looking for you when you never came home, while Mamá Imelda never made any effort to look for Papá Héctor when he never came home?"