El Viaje de Coquita
El Capítulo Dieciocho

Héctor entered the studio. "¡Mijitas! You can't run off on me like that! Come on, stop pestering the celebrities."

Socorro resisted Héctor's attempts to pull her away from the window. "You said we need to find de la Cruz before sunrise, right?"

"Sí."

"He's having a party at his tower, so if we go there, we won't have to wait until the concert to talk to him."

Héctor saw the tower in question. "That bum! Who doesn't show up to his own rehearsal?"

"What do you mean?"

"The guy can't just expect to be performance worthy without preparing himself."

Coco began to grow suspicious. "That is strange. We really do need to talk to him."

Héctor looked to the orchestra. "¡Oyé! Gustavo! Do you know anything about this party?"

The violinist chuckled. "Sí, it's the hot ticket! But if you're not on the list, you're never getting in, Chorizo!"

The cello player turned to look at Héctor. "¡Oyé! It's Chorizo!"

The entire orchestra burst out laughing, with the trombone player letting off a teasing riff.

"Ja ja, very funny, guys," Héctor grumbled.

Socorro was confused. "Chorizo?"

Gustavo snickered. "¡Oyé! This guy's famous! Go on, ask him how he died!"

Socorro was befuddled that people could make jokes about how people died.

Héctor let off a heavy sigh. "No quiero hablarlo."

"He choked on a chorizo!" The musicians laughed again with the same trombone riff.

"Um... how is that funny?"

"I didn't choke, okay? It was food poisoning; there's a big difference!"

Coco patted Socorro's shoulder. "Someday when you're older, mija."

Héctor ground his teeth together. "This is why I hate musicians. They're all self-important jerks!"

"You are a musician, Miguel."

"Papá Héctor!"

"S-Sorry!"

Gustavo shrugged. "Bueno, if you really want to get to Ernesto, there is a music competition in La Plaza de la Cruz; the winner gets to play at his party."

Héctor could see the wheels turning in Socorro's head. "No! ¡Chiquita! You are loco if you think - -"

"We need to find de la Cruz and ask him what he knows about you."

Héctor sighed with resignation. "I'll get my guitar."

As soon as Héctor, Dante, and the two Cocos were gone from the studio, the rest of the Riveras arrived led by Pepita.

"Have you found her, Pepita?" Imelda asked. "Have you found our girl?"

Pepita looked up the fire escape at the back of the studio and gave a soft growl.

Ceci threw the window open. "Keep it down out there!" She immediately noticed Imelda on Pepita's back. "Imelda? What are you doing here?"

"We're looking for my husband and daughter."

Ceci lowered the fire escape for the family.

"Alright, let's play a game. Every time you call me Miguel adds one more time that you have to tell your family you love them when you get your blessing."

Socorro was too busy looking through her book to pay any attention to her tatarabuelo. "How unlucky do you have to be to die from eating chorizo just as you're starting to head home?"

"I don't know what else to tell you, mijita." Héctor started to jump off the catwalk, but suddenly changed his mind and took the ladders.

"I just wish that Mamá tried to find out what happened to you like Elena went looking for Victoria when she never came home from her vacation to Puerto Vallarta."

Socorro pocketed her book so she could climb down the ladder. "I wonder what Mamá Imelda thinks of Miguel since he's almost exactly the same person as Papá Héctor."

Héctor whistled through the open archway into the ghetto, and skeletons began emerging from within, greeting him with cries of "Primo Héctor!"

Socorro looked around as Héctor returned everyone's greetings. "So, this is where you live, huh?"

Coco nodded. "Mamá won't let him live with us, and I spent the first six months after my death here because I didn't want to leave Papá behind."

Héctor picked up the storytelling. "These people are all the ones with no fotos, ofrendas, or families to go home to; almost forgotten." He grabbed a loaf of pan dulce and broke it into several pieces, passing them out to some women playing canasta.

Socorro watched a frog-rabbit alebrije cross Dante's path before jumping into the water below them.

Héctor kept the end piece for himself and retreated to his bungalow to retrieve his guitar.

While he was inside, one of the women started talking to Socorro. "It's always a sad sight, seeing a child in the Land of the Dead."

"Well, actually, I got myself cursed from trying to bring Papá Héctor's guitar back home. He wants to give me his blessing to go home as soon as possible, but..." she showed her the book in her hand, "...I thought this would be a good opportunity to find answers about why he never came home from his music tour."

"Sí, he's made a name for himself with his attempts at crossing the bridge every Día de los Muertos, and he's borrowed a lot of things from his old roommate as part of those schemes."

Coco nodded. "Papá told me all about them. My favorite one was when he tried to build a hang glider out of napkins."

"Mine was when he tried to disguise himself as an alebrije."

"What about when he tried to mail himself over the bridge in a mini-fridge? I'm surprised he managed to fit in there!"

Héctor came back out with the guitar Miguel offered him nine years earlier. "Alright, I got my guitar. ¡Vámonos!"

As they turned to leave, one of the skeletons suddenly began to flicker, and she collapsed to the floor.

Héctor ran to her floor. "Tía Chelo!"

She started panting. "This is it... I'm not long for this world..." Her eyes drifted to Héctor. "Por favor... play me a song..."

Héctor grabbed a pair of pliers and tuned the guitar. "Any requests?"

Chelo chuckled. "You know mi favorito."