El Viaje de Coquita
El Capítulo Veinticuatro
Héctor's breathing steadily grew more rapid as he sized up Ernesto. "You... poisoned me!"
Ernesto looked up from the book in his hands. "Y-You're confusing movies with reality, Héctor."
"All this time, I thought it was just bad luck. I never thought you might have..." his fingers tightened into fists, "that you..."
With a mighty roar, he jumped over the pool and tackled Ernesto to the floor, laying every punch he could manage on the late mariachi.
"Papá!"
"Héctor!"
"Papá Héctor!"
"HOW COULD YOU?!"
"Security! Security!"
Two guards burst in through a pair of doors and rushed to Ernesto's aid.
"You took everything away from me!" Héctor clawed toward Ernesto as the guards dragged him away. "You rat!"
Ernesto got back on his feet. "Have him taken care of. He's... he's not well."
"I just wanted to go back home! NO! NOOOOO!" The doors slammed shut as the guards left with Héctor.
Imelda had a lot to take in. Her husband's story was compelling, but a large part of her wanted more definitive proof before coming to a conclusion of whether or not to believe that Héctor was murdered.
Coco found the pedal she was using on Socorro. "I think you've had enough adventuring for one night, mija."
"Sí. Adelante." Ernesto walked over to the two Cocos. "S-Socorro, um... m-my reputation is, uh... jejeh,... muy importante to me. I-I would hate to have you think..."
Socorro slowly pulled her sombrero on tighter. "...th-that you... m-murdered Papá Héctor? F-For his songs?"
Ernesto laughed nervously. "Y-You don't think that,... do you?"
"N-N-No. ... E-Everyone knows y...you're the... g-good guy?"
Imelda looked at the book still in Ernesto's hand. It contained everything there was to know about her husband, and in tandem with Socorro's newfound knowledge, could spell her nieta's ultimatum as prophetic. She had him on theft and plagiarism; whether murder would join the list now hinged entirely on what de la Cruz did with the book.
If he returned the book to Socorro, that would mean Héctor had died an accidental death and had truly confused his own death with the movie scene.
If not, that would mean Héctor was correct that Ernesto had murdered him for wanting to return home.
Five seconds passed.
Ernesto clapped the book shut, lifted the inside of his jacket, and tucked the book in an inside pocket.
There was no longer any doubt in Imelda's mind. "Alright, Socorro. Time to go home."
Sensing the urgency in her mother's voice, Coco raised the pedal to begin the ritual.
Before she could start speaking, Ernesto plucked the pedal from Coco's fingers and crushed it into flakes.
"Security! Take care of the girls; they'll be... extending their stay."
Imelda lunged toward Ernesto, but was promptly restrained by two guards.
Two more apprehended Coco. Another two grabbed hold of Socorro.
The living girl couldn't believe what was happening. "You did murder Papá Héctor!"
"It was what needed to be done," Ernesto coolly replied as he swaggered to the staircase. "Success doesn't come for free, Socorro. You have to be willing to do whatever it takes to... seize your moment. I know you'll understand."
With a wink, the demented mariachi left the screaming girls to be dragged to their fates.
The half dozen guards marched the trio onto a rocky cliff, inside of which was a deep pit. One by one, they threw their prisoners into the cenote; Imelda went first, followed by Coco, and finally Socorro.
FOOSH!
FOOSH!
FOOSH!
A large patch of water cushioned their fall to the bottom of the sinkhole.
They resurfaced and swam to a dry patch of rocks within the cenote.
Imelda wrung out her dress as Socorro set her sombrero on the rocks to dry. Coco started wandering around the confines of the cenote.
It only took a few seconds for her to find her father. "Papá!"
"Coco?"
She immediately ran to give him a hug. "¡Ay, pobrecito!"
"Hey, it's okay, mija." Héctor returned his daughter's hug.
Imelda walked over to the two, only to be tackled to the ground as she reached for her daughter.
"This is all your fault, bruja!"
"¿Qué me llamaste?"
"You almost murdered Papá a second time and let his killer get away with his first murder for over a century!"
"This is no way to speak to your mother, Socorro!"
"You're not my mother!"
Imelda was flabbergasted. "You take that back right now!"
"Why should I, De la Crucita?"
"You will listen to me!" Imelda plucked off her boot, but Coco ripped it out of her hand, threw it into the water, and kicked Imelda back down onto the rocks.
"No, YOU listen! You left Papá to be forgotten by the living world because he was murdered for trying to come home, and if Miguel hadn't kept his letters safe from the family, he would've vanished as soon as I died! You never tried to find out what happened, nor did you allow anyone else in the family to look for the truth! Even after you died, the family wouldn't open their minds to finding out what happened to Papá because they were scared of destroying your legacy! Even with Elena taking after you in every way, she was twice the matriarch you will ever be; she sought answers to what stopped Victoria from coming home and made sure she was remembered when she found out about her plane crashing in the mountains outside Mexico City! You're no mother of mine; you're Ernesto de la Cruz as a woman! You're a coward who would throw anyone under the bus so you could do what it took for you to... seize your moment."
She stepped on Imelda's midriff as she stormed to the edge of the dry rocks.
Héctor picked up his hat and slammed it onto his head, his marrow boiling at what he had just witnessed.