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Chapter 3
"Where is Papá?" Imelda asked, pulling away from the hug, but still holding on to her mother.
Tears welled in Maria's eyes, and she whispered, "Forgotten."
Imelda glanced around confused, still searching for her father. "What do you mean?"
"When the last living person who remembers you, or whose been told stories of you in such great detail that they feel that they know you, dies… then you are forgotten and you vanish from this world," Héctor chipped in. "We call it the final death."
Imelda pursed her lips, annoyed that Héctor felt as if it were okay for him to speak to her, but grateful for the information. She arched an eyebrow at her mother to elaborate.
"He-he just disappeared as you died," Maria sniffed. "You were the last person to remember him… and he began to fade. Began to disappear and grow weaker, until he glowed with the dying golden light and faded from my arms all together."
Imelda swallowed hard, trying to keep from crying. "Wh-where did he go?"
"No one knows," Héctor sighed sadly.
"C-can this be prevented?" Imelda whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Yes," nodded Maria, "By putting up a photo or a momentum of the deceased on an altar for the dead."
"But that in itself requires a bit of knowledge of the person who passed, which helps keep them tethered to the world," Héctor added.
Imelda buried her face in her hands in a moment's weakness and moaned, "So it's all my fault that Papá is gone!"
Maria, placed her hands over her daughter's and held them tightly. "No, mi amor, it's not your fault! We didn't raise you celebrating that tradition!"
Imelda swallowed, squeezing her mother's hands as she contemplated the inevitability of her own second death. She sighed, "And I didn't raise my family to celebrate that tradition either so I, too, will be forgotten…"
Héctor took a deep breath, then took several cautious steps closer to the women, at a distance acceptable to include him in the conversation. "Not exactly…" he started. "Coco and Elena celebrate day of the dead."
Shocked by this information, Imelda finally acknowledged her husband's presence, and turned to him with a gasp. "What?"
"Remember our granddaughter, Elena's, friend who died when she was eight?" Héctor asked.
Imelda nodded, remembering the tragedy of Elena's childhood friend, Rosalinda, an innocent child who died too young drowning in a lake one summer. Then, the realization that Héctor had been long gone by the time this occurred hit her. "Yes- wha- how did you know about that?"
"Let me finish and I'll explain. Well, after that Coco and Elena would make a mini-altar in Elena's room every Dia de los Muertos for that girl… something that Coco had been doing every year since she was fourteen… for me," Héctor replied.
Staring stoically at Héctor, Imelda rubbed her arms as she contemplated this information. "Coco has been making a secret day of the dead altar for you since she was fourteen?" Héctor nodded with a sad smile and Imelda continued, "You've been dead since she was fourteen?"
"Before that, actually-" Héctor started.
"I don't want to know," Imelda interjected, raising a hand to silence him. Then she shook her head, refusing to accept her daughter's defiance. Day of the Dead was perfectly fine to Imelda, especially now that she was dead, but she couldn't accept that Coco would make an altar for the man that abandoned them, a man she still believed would come back to her one day. "No, no, no, Coco believes you're still alive!"
"I know, and it kills me," Héctor murmured. "It was just like any other Dia De los Muertos, I found myself at the cempasutchil bridge, trying to cross to see if by chance you had set up an altar for me. Before then, I had no idea how much you resented me, whether you knew that I was dead or not, how you were doing. All I knew was that you and Coco were alive and I prayed with every ounce in me that you were doing all right.
"I waited in the long line to cross the bridge, and when it was finally my turn, I wasn't expecting much. I grinned sheepishly for the camera and fully expected to be declined but instead, the light turned green and the woman behind the camera let me know that there was a picture of me on my family's altar.
"At first I believed that they were playing a trick on me, it couldn't be true! You and I never really celebrated day of the dead… Then, as I started to make my way towards the bridge, my heart shattered. I foolishly figured that you must have realized that I was dead and were heartbroken. I made my way across the bridge, excitedly, to look for you and Coco. Despite the fact that I was gone, in that moment everything seemed right. I was finally forgiven for leaving, and you guys decided to put up a photo of me on your altar.
"Back in Santa Cecelia, I broke down and wept as it hit me for the trillionth time, though this one harder than usual, that I should have never left our beautiful pueblo. I made my way to our old home and saw a sign outside in the shape of a shoe that read Rivera. Imelda, I can't tell you how proud I was to see our name on that sign. It had to mean that you still loved me, that Coco still carried my name. I passed through the door and saw the two of you for the first time in years.
"I cried, I'll admit, I sobbed... I ran up to you and threw my arms around you. I know you felt it, Imelda, because you froze as soon as my arms were around you. Coco asked you what was wrong and you shook your head, snapping back to reality. I know you were thinking about me, because later that night when you were in your room alone, you hummed La Llorona… but I'm getting ahead of myself.
"After hugging you, Coco asked you what was wrong. Oh, her voice! Hearing it all grown up! Coco was fourteen now, my big girl! I dashed down to sit next to her on the desk and watched, mesmerized, as my baby worked on making a shoe. Her fingers moved so quickly, with such agility that I knew she was a pro. Then I looked up at her beautiful face. She looked like you, Imelda, but I couldn't deny her features that were like mine. She wasn't loud like either of us, no, but she had that same shy smile that I hate so much about myself… but on her… I died a second time that night seeing her all grown up and knowing that she wouldn't know that I was with her.
"You asked Coco where some certain tool was, I don't remember what it was, and then she casually replied that it was in her room. You stood up to go and get it but were too distracted in your shoe making process to notice our daughter jump at the thought of you going into her room. 'No, Mamá, I'll get it for you!' Coco insisted before gently patting you on the shoulder in reassurance and speeding up into her room. Her reaction to the thought of you entering her room made me suspicious and so I followed her to make sure everything was all right.
"Coco made it into her room, and I was in after her. She clicked the door locked and then dashed to the right side of her bed in a tight space between her bed and the wall. She sat on the floor in front of something that positioned so that you couldn't see it from the doorway, because it was hidden by her bed. I made my way to her slowly, and that's when I saw it! A photo of me! Hidden between her bed and the wall, the photo stood with a single wrinkled cempazutchil before it. She must have smuggled the flower in, I realized. And a small candle also lay flickering next to the photo. Coco sat before it and admired her work for a moment before she began talking to me!
" 'Papá,' Coco whispered, 'I know you're not really dead, but my friend Julio was telling me about how he includes his uncle who went missing's photo on his family's altar for Dia de los Muertos just in case. He says it helps him feel connected to his uncle and he hopes it might help his uncle find his way home. I want to feel connected to you too, Papá.'
"I wanted to die when I heard that, Imelda. I would have given anything to be with her in that moment. To let her know that she really was connected to me! Coco continued, 'So I set up this altar for you. And I'll make one for you every Dia de los Muertos. I love you, Papá.' Suddenly, your voice rang out from down stairs, 'Coco, where is that tool?!'
"Coco jumped at the sound of your voice and got up to grab the tool from her desk. 'Mamá can never know that I've done this,' Coco whispered to me, or my altar, 'She's still mad at you for leaving, but I know she still loves you like I do. I love you Papá.' And with that she ran back downstairs. I didn't quite know the extent to which you resented me. I figured that you still talked about me, and that you acted angry but really did love me. And then I went downstairs…
" 'Mamá, Julio was telling me the other day-' Coco started. 'Julio? What a nice boy! I really think that boy would make an excellent match for you' you replied. 'Anyways,' Coco continued, 'Julio was telling me about the ofrenda he sets up for his family on Dia de los Muertos.' Without looking up from your work, you responded with, 'Ah, is that so?' 'Sí,' Coco nodded. 'I was wondering, if perhaps, we could make an ofrenda?' At this you looked up, knowing she meant she wanted an ofrenda for me. I thought you were looking at her like this because you were in denial of my death. So you asked, 'Who for?' We could both tell by Coco's nerves what she was going to say next. 'For my Papá?' At this, you stopped sewing and stared straight at your daughter. 'Coco, that man left us when you were only a child. He does not deserve an altar, he is dead to this family!' 'Mamá, Julio puts one up for his missing uncle hoping it'll help guide him home-' Coco tried to explain. 'Even if he were to come home, you know Coco that I would never allow him to stay! He's been gone for too long, I never want to see him again!' Tears welled in Coco's eyes, 'Mamá-' 'Enough!' you shouted, 'That's the last we'll speak of ese desgraciado.'
"Hearing you say those words, Imelda, brought back all the guilt I'd been harboring since the day that I left. I genuinely believed I would return to you and Coco but when I woke up, dead, the guilt hit me like a ton of bricks and has been gnawing away at me ever since! I could hear it in your voice how much you blamed me, how mad you still were at me and it was like I was being crushed by my guilt. 'No, Imelda, please, forgive me', I begged-"
Imelda had been captivated by his story up until this point. However, hearing about his guilt, and hearing his meaningless apology brought back the coldness to her heart. "Get to the point of the story," Imelda interrupted sharply.
"Well ever since Julio introduced the concept to her, Coco has been keeping an altar for me every Day of the Dead. I've been with you for two days every year, and I've been keeping tabs on our family. I've seen Coco grow into the beautiful young woman she is now, and I've seen Julio be the husband that our daughter deserves. I'm so grateful I even got to see our granddaughters Elena and Victoria! I've been keeping tabs on you all, like I said, so one year I noticed Elena playing with Rosalinda which is why I was able to recognize her when she wound up here, almost a decade ago. She stayed with me the first year and I even helped her cross the bridge her first time which is how we discovered that Elena had also began to celebrate Dia de Los Muertos. Then she got family over here and went to live with them…" Héctor trailed off.
Imelda was moved by what he said, but she knew she couldn't show it. It was what he wanted, to woo her with his words like he always did. Well, Imelda no longer cared for his words or music. Actions, she had learned through her short, hard life, were the most meaningful way to demonstrate one's feelings towards another. So she carefully worded her expression of gratitude, looking up at him frankly. "Thank you, Héctor for watching over Rosalinda." Héctor's eyes met hers nervously and a shy smile began to sneak its way onto his face. "But," Imelda continued, stumping the growth of his stupid grin, "I still cannot forgive you for abandoning us. You left me, you left our daughter, and in those times Héctor, we could have wound up in a terrible place. I had to overcome my heartbreak, and I had to give up hope that you were ever coming back as well as my feelings for you in order for Coco and I to survive. Héctor, I had to give up music, my third love, because you chose music over our daughter. I sacrificed everything for you, Héctor, and you didn't deserve it. You never came back. I have spent the second half of my life resenting you and using that resentment to build a life for our daughter. So you can't just show up here with that stupid grin and your stupid words expecting me to fall for you like I did all those years ago. I am not the Imelda you fell in love with and through your actions, you've proven that you're not the Héctor I fell in love with either. I wanted nothing to do with you in life, and that remains true even now."
Imelda's voice was shaky by the time she finished her speech. Héctor could tell that she was on the verge of crying so he kept his mouth shut because if she cried in front of him she would just build up even more walls. He'd have to go about this carefully if ever wanted a chance to be with her again.
"I-I understand," Héctor said quietly. "I'll leave you be, then."
Héctor started to leave and took several steps away, but stopped to turned back and vow, "This isn't the last you'll see of me, Imelda. I will make things right."
And with his promise lingering in the air, he offered her a sad smile which she did not return. Héctor turned back and continued to walk away. Maria wrapped an arm around her daughter and began to turn her away from Héctor and out the other exit of the building. The last thing Imelda thought before Héctor left her sight was, I truly wish that you could.
Dia De Los Muertos: Day of the Dead
Ese Desgraciado: that disgraced man (it's a really bad thing to call someone)
Cempasutchiil: Mexican Marigold/ Orange day of the dead flower