Read the Disclaimer!
Disclaimer: The information regarding the ages of the characters in this chapter have been taken directly from the official Disney Wiki page. You can correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm just going based on what I figured out through research. I don't necessarily understand it, but there you go.
Now without further ado - Chapter 6!
Once inside, Héctor immediately went to work setting a fire in his fireplace. Becca just stood in the entryway surveying the area. It was a really – modest – house with only one bedroom and a main living room. When she thought about it, she figured having a bathroom or a kitchen was no longer a necessity here, so why have them?
It didn't take him long to get a good blaze going. It not only provided light, but warmth as well. He set a stool next to the fire and indicated that she should sit down. Without a word, Becca took the seat. He then took her soaked hoodie from her and traded her for a blanket. He hung up the hoodie over the fire before taking a seat in a nearby chair.
Becca wrapped the blanket around herself, grateful to have the cover. Seeing her exposed bones still kinda weirded her out. She also just felt awkward in general. Héctor was still being nice, and trying to take care of her, even though she really didn't feel like she deserved it. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do, or say, except for maybe. . .
"Héctor," she said timidly.
"Hmmm?" he questioned, looking over at her.
"I just – wanted to thank you – for everything," she told him.
"Don't even worry about it," he said smiling, waving off her comment.
Even so, Becca was worried about it. She stared deep into the fire with a heavy look on her face. It seemed like every time she had one of her questions answered, a dozen more would crop up to take it's place. Even every step she took was undetermined, with the next one always remaining in uncertainty. It was like being in a constant state of 'where do I go from here'?
Héctor picked up on her brooding attitude. "Hey, would you relax? You're making me nervous, chi—" he cut himself off. Probably not wanting to get snapped at again.
Becca looked back at him and smiled. "You can keep calling me that, if you really want to. I'm sorry I yelled at you for it," she told him.
"I – never meant it as an insult. It's just – what I'm used to. My little girl was so young when I left, I—" he froze, apparently realizing what he'd just said. He looked carefully over at Becca, wondering if she'd picked up on that.
She had.
"You – have a daughter?" she asked. If that was the case, it would help to explain some things.
He shook his head. "I – don't wanna talk about it," he said quickly.
"I thought you said you didn't have any family," Becca reminded him.
"Well – that is –" he stuttered.
"And you told me the only way to leave this world is if no one remembers you in the living world. So obviously there's someone that remembers you. Is it your daughter?" she added.
He looked pretty flustered as Becca continued to unravel his story.
"Also you complemented me on my singing, and then told me you didn't like music. What's up with that?" She gave him a sly half-smile. He glared at her.
"Just how long do you plan on keeping this up?" he asked irritability. "Little sabelotodo!" he muttered under his breath.
Becca didn't know what that meant, but he seemed to be mad at her now. She probably shouldn't be pushing her luck.
"Uh – I'm sorry. I should just mind my own business," she corrected, going back to her brooding.
Héctor signed. He didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable, or like she couldn't talk to him. It had been so long since he'd had anyone to really talk to, he was afraid he'd forgotten how.
"Why so curious?" he finally asked her, sounding less cranky. She gave him an unsure look, then quickly looked back at the fire.
"It's nothing," she said nervously.
"Ay! You wouldn't stop pestering a second ago, and now you won't talk to me?" he complained.
"Well—" he seemed to be sincere, so she ventured forward. "It's just – you've been trying to help me, and invited me here and everything, but – I don't know anything about you. And every time I've tried to ask, you've either made something up, or just brushed me off." She paused for a moment to think.
"I don't know what you – plan on doing with me, or how long you're going to let me stay here, or anything!" She just felt so unsure about everything, and it scared her. "But, I'm here for now, and I just thought it might be nice to – learn a little bit about you?" she suggested carefully. Couldn't he see that she just wanted to know somebody, so she didn't feel so completely alone?
Héctor stared at her for a long moment, thinking. Why would he do anything with her? And why would she think there was a time limit on how long she could stay? It seemed like everything he took for granted as a given, she assumed the complete opposite. He realized that if Americans were really as selfish and self centered as she claimed, then all this would seem strange to her. He sighed again, what harm would it do to tell her the truth? Besides it being painful for him to talk about, but she was already piecing it together anyway. . .
"You sure you want to hear the sad story of Héctor Rivera?" he asked.
Becca's response was to grab the stool she was perched on, and drag it all the way over to where he was sitting. She looked up at him expectantly.
He let out a soft chuckle. "Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you, chiquita. The truth is – I used to love music, so much so that it's what I did for a living," he confessed.
"So, you were a singer-songwriter?" she asked.
"That's right, and I had a dream. A dream to play my music for the whole world."
"Isn't that every musician's dream?" Becca asked.
Héctor narrowed his eyes at her. "You gonna let me tell this?"
"Sorry." Becca looked embarrassedly down at the floor and tried to stop interrupting.
"Problem was, I also fell in love, and together we had a beautiful baby girl. I didn't want to give up on my dream, but my wife, she wanted to settle and put down roots. I was working with a fellow musician at the time, and he convinced me to leave and go traveling with him," Héctor said.
Becca looked up at him in surprise. She opened her mouth to comment, but then closed it when she realized she'd be interrupting again. It was just, after everything he'd just been saying about the importance of family, she couldn't believe he would just leave his like that.
She didn't actually have to ask, because he seemed to pick up on what she was thinking. "I know, it was a stupid thing to do. Actually, after several months of traveling, I got really homesick. So I tried going home, but–" he paused. Seemed like he didn't want to continue, but Becca waited patiently to see if he would. "I never made it."
"Because you – died?!" Becca couldn't contain her horror. She couldn't image what it would be like to lose her father. It would have been devastating to their whole family.
He nodded that she was correct.
"How – how old were you?" Becca asked carefully. "How old was she?!" she added, quickly realizing that was the more pertinent question.
He looked up at her questions and seemed to study her for a minute. Again, Becca waited for an answer, not sure if she was going to get one.
"I was – twenty-one," he told her slowly. "My daughter – was three."
That wasn't very much time, especially when you were a baby. "You were only twenty-one? That's so young. . ." He had just barely been able to start his family. It didn't seem fair.
"How old are you?" he suddenly asked her, breaking her musings.
"Oh, uh, twelve," she said.
"Nine more years than you got, chiquita," he reminded her.
Becca glanced down at her arms. "Oh – right," she muttered, mentally slapping herself. She had been so focused on Héctor's story, she'd almost forgotten. This whole after-life thing was pretty trippy.
"I never should have left! Music ruined my life! My family – disowned me because of it. I never got to see my wife, or my little girl again. I can't even cross the bridge on Dia de Muertos, because they refused to put up my photo. What I wouldn't give to be able see my Coco. . ." he trailed off.
Héctor sat staring off at nothing for a long moment, before remembering he wasn't alone, and looked back up at Becca.
She was watching at him with huge, anime-like streams of tears pouring down her face. "That's so sad!" she blubbered out. "I'm sorry I was singing!"
"Don't be," he told her simply.
Becca sniffed hard and swiped at her eyes.
"What about you?" he asked her.
"What about me?" she wondered.
"Que pasó?" he gestured at her.
Becca had to think about that one for a second. She silently repeated what he'd said, mouthing the words. She lit up when she figured out what it meant.
"Oh! Yeah – guess it's my turn." It was only fair, after all.
"Ummm, we were visiting my mom's family in Mexico. She said she hadn't seen them in a really long time. We took a day trip out to a beach in Puerto Vallarta. Things were fine, until my little brother got restless. He wanted to go exploring, so I went with him down the beach. We eventually got to this cliff. There was a grass hill along the back that led up to the top." Becca was motioning with her hands to demonstrate the sheer cliff and the slope behind it.
"He wanted to see what was at the top, so I followed him," Becca shook her head. "Stupid kid. Before I knew it, he was dangling off the edge of the cliff, cuz he thought he saw a bird's nest or something. So I ran over to pull him back away from the edge, which I did, but then–" this time it was her turn to pause. Remembering what had happened was still scary.
Héctor didn't rush her though. Just sat, silently waiting for her to finish. It was probably obvious what had happened by now.
"The edge of cliff broke away, and I – fell," she managed to get out. Becca reached up to feel the back of her head. Sure enough, there was a crack in the back of her skull where she'd hit. It made her shiver. She took a deep, shaky breath to steady herself so she wouldn't start crying again.
Héctor instinctively reached out to put an arm around her, but then remembered what she'd said before about that and decided against it. He dropped his arm back down to his side.
"You sacrificed yourself to save your hermano. Eso era muy valiente," Héctor told her.
Becca smiled but shook her head. "You make it sound more noble than it was. It was just an accident – a mistake. I didn't plan on dying to save him."
"But, if you hadn't, he'd be the one here instead of you," he pointed out to her.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. That would have been worse, I think." Better it was her than her little brother – lost and scared in this strange world.
"It's terrible that you had to pass away so young, but, at least you have an end you can be proud of," he assured her.
Becca just blinked at him. "Okay – if you say so," she acknowledged slowly.
Neither of them said anything for a while after that. Both were absorbed in their own thoughts, each reflecting on their own sad situation. However, to Becca, it sounded like Héctor's story was much more tragic. She wished there was something she could do or say to help him feel better. She then decided it wouldn't hurt to try.
"For what it's worth," Becca began, shifting her gaze back up to him. "I'm sorry about what happened to you. It sounds like you were a really good dad."
"Not good enough. A good padre would have gone back to his daughter," he said sadly.
Becca placed one of her hands on top of his much larger one. "Héctor, it wasn't your fault. You were trying to go back," she reasoned with him.
Héctor stared awkwardly down at her hand for a moment, before casually shrugging it off as he got up from his chair.
"Voy a tomar un poco de aire," he mentioned as he left the room.
Becca had no idea what that meant either, and she was left wondering why he was acting uncomfortable now? But then she was painfully reminded about her rag doll comment. She really needed to watch what she said from now on, lest she end up regretting it later.
I think we finally might be coming out of the heavy woods. Hoo! Things should start to get a little lighter from here on out. I think our characters deserve some happy events by now.