Getting Acquainted

Rosa had never run from her family, and she couldn't believe she was doing it. Maybe this was only a dream, one she'd soon wake up from. Yet she was aware it was not, but she was having a hard time processing all this.

"You okay, kids?" Héctor queried after they'd reached the safety of a dark tunnel, far from curious eyes.

"Yeah, just… Give us a second." Miguel puffed, slumping against a cold brick wall, Rosa joining him.

Skeletons must have more endurance to physical work. She thought as her eyes quickly scanned their guide. Surely, his long legs were of great help for fleeing danger, even with his limp, but it wasn't just that. The lack of muscles on skeletons' bones had to play a huge part in their stamina.

"Uhh… Héctor?" she said almost fearfully, as if her popping up a question would annoy him.

"Yes, chiquita?" His eyes held more kindness than she'd expected to receive.

"You don't… get tired easily, right? I mean, after running and this kind of stuff."

His brows raised, but he smiled. "If you're referring to skeletons in general, then no. I guess you've already figured out why."

He rotated his right arm to make a perfect circle, tapping his humerus.

"But for me… Let's just say things aren't so easy."

"Doesn't doing that hurt?" Miguel butted in.

"Nope. No muscles, no ligaments, things don't work here the way they do in the Land of the Living, chamaco."

Miguel glanced at her, sharing her opinion. Héctor was obviously in a much poorer and unhealthier condition than the other skeletons they'd come across, including their own family. But they wouldn't ask him about the reason that was, it'd be extremely rude and inconsiderate.

Héctor squinted. "Now, we need something to cover up your faces. There's a long way to De la Cruz, and we don't want people staring at you."

The boy searched his pockets, smiling when he pulled out two tins of black and white shoe polish. Rosa felt so proud of him that she could have hugged him.

"Will these help?"

It suddenly clicked in her mind. "Are these the tins your father said went missing weeks ago? What did you wanna do with them?"

"Shhh!" Miguel scowled. "That's none of your business, and it's not important."

"If you're saying it like that, it definitely is important." She smirked. He rolled his eyes.

Héctor looked like he was in a trance whilst watching them, but it vanished as soon as he took the tins.

"They're perfecto! Hopefully these will be enough for you both."

He sat down on a wooden box, gesturing to the other box in front of him. Miguel extended his arm towards it, regarding his cousin.

"¿Señorita?"

"You're such a gentleman, primo."

She took the offered seat. It might have just been her imagination, but for a second, it seemed to her that Héctor had a melancholic, nostalgic look on his face (which one, she couldn't tell) as he eyed the surface of the tins, where the Rivera family name stood out, but he rallied fast.

"Héctor, have you painted anyone's face before?"

"Oh, sí, Rosa, don't worry. I know what I'm doing." He uncapped the white polish, pushing down the sting of familiar hurt of his beaming daughter's face on Día de Muertos from long ago as she'd used to squirm and giggle continuously when he'd made her make-up for the celebrations.

"Could you make her look like a clown?" Miguel snickered.

Rosa turned to him so fast Héctor was taken aback by her speed. "How dare you?!"

"What? It'd really fit you! Give her half a sad face, half a happy face."

Miguel's smugness equaled her ire. She raced up, taking off her flat and swinging it in his direction. Héctor was swift enough to grab her arm, terrified that the boy would actually get hurt.

"¡Ay! ¡Por Dios, prima! ¡Sólo era una broma!" Miguel reflexively flinched away, but his smile didn't waver.

Rosa huffed. "You'll pay for that. Just wait."

Héctor had to stifle his chuckles at the scene.

"Oh, you think it's funny?" The girl faced him again, a fierce stare penetrating his skull.

"No! Not at all!"

She was about to hit him with her shoe, but her cousin held her back.

"Now, prima, you wouldn't want our new guide here not to help us, would you?" A twinkle made its way onto his features again. He said to Héctor: "Forgive her, she's a little loco."

Rosa uplifted her chin. "I'll take that as a compliment. But you're a terrible liar, Héctor! Just like someone else I know," She peeked over her shoulder before facing him again, "and just like you were back there in that Frida costume."

The tension was nearly tangible. Héctor's eyes were wide in astonishment, while Miguel softly called her name in a warning. She apologized with a jab of remorse.

"Héctor… I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

"Nah, it's okay, chica. I had a feeling I wasn't very convincing anyways. Who knew Frida was over six feet tall, huh?" He joked, but the sparkle in his eyes was gone. "Ahora, come on, sit." He patted the seat in front of him.

Nice work, tonta! She mentally slapped herself. That was a brilliant way to start on the wrong foot with the guy who's willingly helping you.

She obeyed without another word. It was clear he was trying to mask his pain. She had no idea what else she could say to assure him it hadn't been ill-intentioned.

Héctor started applying the polish onto her face. She did her best not to recoil at his cold bony fingers and smudge everything.

"But how did you know it wasn't Frida?" he questioned to enlighten the tense atmosphere. He masked his frustration at the reason why he hadn't been able to cross over for almost the hundredth time.

"My cousin is very good at playing detective." Miguel joined his game as if on cue.

Héctor let out a chuckle. "Then Rosa is a spectacular cerebrita."

The girl couldn't wrap her mind around the unpredicted compliment. "I just offended you, and you're complimenting me?"

"You didn't offend me, Rosa. You just spoke the truth. Don't feel bad for it."

And suddenly, Rosa felt as if the thick, sturdy wall she'd built between her and this stranger was tentatively beginning to descend, a sentiment akin to the one she'd had about her and Miguel's relationship while they'd been on the bridge.

"You did fool me, though." Miguel smiled lopsidedly.

Héctor laughed. "So, I was at least good, then."

"For me, yeah."

When he painted Miguel's face, Rosa noticed he was looking at her cousin as if he were lost in his memories, as if the mere sight of Miguel made him relive his past somehow. Which was oddly, yet perhaps understandably weird. Maybe the boy resembled someone Héctor had once known.

Héctor worked quickly yet orderly with deft fingers, something that she greatly appreciated.

"Why were you running back there? Did something happen?"

Rosa's heart skipped a beat. Miguel responded, his eyes downcast in shame:

"We… we are wanted by the authorities."

"No need to say more. Those guys are always chasing upstanding citizens like you and me." Héctor shook his head.

"So… you're not gonna report us?" Rosa croaked.

"Prima, he's literally helping us look like real skeletons. Do you need any more proof?"

When the skeleton finished both their disguises, they admired his craft in a skull-shaped pocket mirror he'd offered them.

The calavera make-up was actually pretty well done on both of their faces, she deemed. He'd applied black polish around their eyes and onto their lips, had covered the rest of their faces with white polish, except for the few places where he'd "drawn" a few swirls on their foreheads and dots and petals around their supposed eye-sockets by leaving some parts of their skin untouched.

Dante licked some polish from one of the tins, and Rosa couldn't help but snigger when he wailed at the obviously disgusting taste.

"Miguel, you should teach your dog to eat what is actually good."

"Ha! You believe I haven't tried?"

Seeing her primo face-painted with calavera make-up ignited memories within Rosa. Despite her reservations towards music in the last months, she was still thankful for the fun they'd had on the night of the previous Día de Muertos.

"If we both wear our hoods up, won't people think we have something to hide?"

"You're worrying way too much, prima."

"So listen, niños," Héctor began, "This place runs on memories. When you're well-remembered, people put up your photo and you get to cross the bridge and visit the living on Día de Muertos…"

So that's why Abuelita insists so much on putting photos up.

"…unless you're me."

"You don't get to cross over." Miguel stated sadly.

"That means your foto isn't on any ofrenda." Rosa added.

"Exactly. But you can change that!" Héctor exclaimed, taking a small photograph out of the inside pocket of his jacket and handing it to them.

They stared at the head of a man with the biggest grin possible. Rosa could hardly distinguish two dimples on his cheeks, set in a face with a long nose, and big ears oddly similar to Miguel's. Her eyes travelled a few times between the picture and the actual Héctor in front of her. If her gut was right, the photo hadn't been taken long before he'd died, judging by the identical sharp angles of his cheekbones and jaw. His gold tooth wasn't present either. Perhaps he'd gotten it sometime in death?

"This is… you?" Miguel asked, somewhat puzzled.

"Eh, muy guapo, eh?" Héctor flashed a twin grin to the one in the foto, wiggling his brow ridges.

"You…" Rosa stumbled, "don't look much like this guy."

Miguel elbowed her.

"You mean you don't think that's me, chiquita?" The man was amused as he stroked his chin.

"That's not what I said."

His hair and goatee were the same, though.

"You just… used to look a lot more different. Being all fleshy, you know? But that's not an insult, okay?"

The last thing she wanted was to hurt him again in the span of fifteen minutes.

"Wow, Rosa! You needed a picture to figure that out? Anyway, so… you get us to our great-great-grandpa, then we put up your photo when we get home?" Miguel tilted a brow.

Héctor nodded fervently. "Such a smart boy! Yes, great idea, yes! One hiccup. De la Cruz is a tough guy to get to, and I need to cross the bridge soon, like tonight!"

"But you're not related to us." Rosa cut in. "How will that help you see whoever you wanna see on the other side?"

"No worries, chica. I know where to head, I'll find the place."

A revelation struck him. If my Coco still lives there. But he couldn't think of any reasons why she wouldn't, unless something had happened to the house in his painfully long absence. No! He wouldn't allow himself to consider any nightmarish scenarios to get distracted. Things were already complicated enough.

He shook away the bout of jitters, continuing: "So you got any other family here, you know? Someone a bit more, hm, accessible?"

"Mmm, nope." Miguel eyed her from the side, and they communicated silently; she nodded ever so slightly as if to give her confirmation for the lie.

"Don't yank my chain, chamaco! You gotta have some other family!"

Héctor searched their eyes, looking for any signs for dishonesty. Suddenly, Rosa realized that an entire year of stashing things and feelings came into play at this crucial moment. She didn't feel too bad about lying right now, especially for their cause, but she still despised it.

Her determination plopped. What was Héctor's cause? Who could be waiting for him in the Living World if his attempt at the bridge had appeared that desperate? His child? His wife? How long had he been in the Land of the Dead? How old - both life and death included - was he? There were so many questions Rosa wanted answers to.

Would dragging this poor, feeble man across the entire land for their own pursuit waste his precious time? Would it cost him where it would make them win?

She got rid of the questions, even if only temporarily. Family came first, and Miguel was her family. She'd go to the end of the earth for him, and in this case, it meant that she could finally, finally redeem herself. She'd unknowingly been waiting for this opportunity since what seemed like forever.

That didn't mean a part of her didn't feel selfish and disappointed in the both of them for agreeing to this course of action. This skeleton was probably in desperate need of help and time, and they were just going to throw it away…

Not all of our time! She internally screamed. We'll get to boastful Señor Chin before sunrise comes! Calm down, girl!

"We only have De la Cruz." Miguel passed him the photo before getting up with a sassy grin. "If you can't help us, we'll find him ourselves. Right, prima?"

It was apparently a rhetorical question, because before Rosa could respond, the boy had already started walking away, whistling for Dante to follow, who barked as if to alert them to keep up.

She inwardly smirked at his guile. Oh, did she wish she were able to get out of conversations so slickly!

She rolled the cuffs of her capri jeans down to her ankles in order to shroud the rest of her legs. Héctor was rendered speechless as she skipped to her feet on Miguel's trail.

"What do you say, guapo? You up for an exciting journey?" she called out over her shoulder.

The skeleton gawked at them, dumbfounded. He rolled his eyes, throwing his arms in the air. The reaction was… juvenile, similar to what Abel did when he was annoyed.

"Argh! Okay, okay, kids, fine. Fine! I'll take you to your great-great grandpa!"

Rosa's tone quieted. "Well, look who's become a master at getting what he wants."

"Watch and learn, prima. Watch and learn."

The pedestrian row Héctor had led them to was less crowded, which was perfect.

"It's not gonna be easy, you know. He's a busy man." Héctor let them know.

"I can imagine." Rosa deadpanned, "Uhh, primo?"

"What are you doing?"

Miguel's gait was strange.

"I'm walking like a skeleton. Blending in."

She rolled her eyes. "Stop with the nonsense, will you? Do you see these guys?" She gestured around.

She knew he was trying to imitate Héctor's tread and hunched posture, who seemed exasperated.

"No, skeletons don't walk like that." He debunked.

"See?"

"That's how you walk."

"Miguel!"

"No, I don't. Stop it!" Héctor shoved the boy's shoulder, but not in a scolding manner, as she'd expected.

He was… sensitive about his limp. She knew Miguel was only goofing around, but she had no clue why Héctor wasn't walking normally like the other skeletons. Perhaps it had something to do with his yellowed bones? But, of course, she didn't want to bring that up and make him uncomfortable.

Miguel's attention was attracted by a billboard.

"Whoa… Ernesto de la Cruz's Sunrise Spectacular?! ¡Qué padre!"

Héctor grunted. "Blah! Every year your great-great grandpa puts on that dumb show to mark the end of Día de Muertos."

"Why are you saying it's dumb?" Rosa voiced.

He hadn't anticipated that.

"Well, ..."

"And you can get us in!"

Miguel had been too caught up in the heat of the moment to pay any attention to their short exchange.

Héctor's gaze darted to the side. "Ahhhh…"

"Hey! You said you had front row tickets!" The boy was visibly displeased.

"That… that was a lie. I apologize for that."

Rosa was struck by the flashback of the same apology he'd delivered in the exact way to the agent lady at the gate towards the bridge.

His playful smirk only irritated Miguel more, who eyed him with a frowny Are you for real?; Rosa couldn't blame him. She wasn't surprised, however, since she'd already presumed Héctor didn't have any tickets during his talk with the officer.

"Cool off, chamaco, come on… I'll get you to him." He patted the young Rivera's hooded head, much to Miguel's dismay, who drew back at his touch.

"How?"

Héctor strolled ahead. " 'Cause I happen to know where he's rehearsing!"

"Can we trust him?" Miguel threw his thumb over his shoulder to point at him.

"You dragged us into this, primo. I should be the one to ask you that."

Anxiety suddenly settled in. "Miguel, what if he finds out that we lied to him?"

"He won't, okay? There's no way that will happen."

"But what if it does?"

"Pfft, shut up!"

"Oh, really? Then what will we do if this plan ends up like your guitar, huh?"

He froze. "Thanks, Rosa. Very encouraging."

Why did she have to keep saying the worst things at the worst time? Why couldn't her big mouth just keep quiet for once?

"Miguel, I'm sorry." She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he brushed it off.

"Yeah, I can tell."

She didn't know if his sarcasm was good-natured and sincere or mocking.

Excellent job, Rosa! Another mistake to add to tonight's list.

A light bulb went off in her head. "Hey! I just thought of something!"

"What is it?"

Her eyes searched around for marigold flowers. She plucked a petal from a nearby cempasúchil bush.

"Do you think we could… bless each other?"

Miguel's eyes widened. "¡Eres una genia, prima!"

He grabbed her petal and looked her dead in the eye.

"Rosa… I give you my blessing."

The petal didn't glow, to their disappointment.

"Oh, man! Anyway, I give you my blessing to go home…"

She squinted at his goofiness, smiling to herself.

"... to put those photos on our ofrenda…"

She had a feeling something important was coming her way.

"...and to play the violin and go to the plaza whenever you want. To forget about the stupid rules, and just follow your passion."

She grinned. "Blessing accepted."

"Really?" Miguel perked up; she understood the hidden meaning of his words.

Rosa faltered. She wasn't sure what she wanted. She'd been able to play music before, but had tempered that desire most of her life. Now, she realised she did want music to be a part of her life, even though she wasn't sure she'd still have the courage to play or dance again.

But Miguel was her family. And now, she was going against the rules by having chosen to stick to his side. He was her family as much as Mamá Imelda and the rest of the dead Riveras were. Regardless of what side she would have chosen, she would have done it to help her family either way, and that was the most important thing in all of this unforeseen journey.

Mamá Imelda might have been right in her own way, but Miguel also was. It had taken her some time to conclude that. Following what made one happy was also crucial to having a fulfilling life, besides family. And that's all Miguel had ever wished for. He'd never said he wanted to leave the family, his true desire was to find a balance between music and family.

She'd been searching for that as well.

"Yeah. Really!"

Miguel's grin reached his eyes.

One step closer to making peace with him, Rosa praised herself.

"Ehh, I think it's somehow better this way. We'll get to see de la Cruz."

She didn't seek to ruin his exhiliration by revealing she was nowhere as thrilled.

He let the petal dance to the ground. Dante leaped after Héctor as they followed, who was waiting for them to catch up.

"How did you know I said I had tickets?" He wanted to know when they were near him again, resuming their trip.

"It's classified." Miguel humorously replied in the most nonchalant way he could muster, making Rosa titter. "Or let's just say that we spied on you."

"Spying isn't nice, Miguel." Héctor crossed his arms. His stance and expression reminded Rosa an awful lot of her parents whenever they tried teaching her something and sought to ensure she remembered it for the rest of her existence.

"I know, Papá!" Miguel rolled his eyes.

Héctor seemed dazed at being called "father", though ironically. Rosa might have imagined it, but for a moment, his eyes turned glassy.

"It's a long story, okay? Don't ask us to recite it, por favor."

"I won't, chamaco."

She smugly jabbed him. "But only one of us was smart enough to tell you were lying. Right, primo?"

"You just love to brag, don't you?"

Fireworks exploded above them, causing Dante to cower at Miguel's feet. Somehow, these fireworks didn't shine as brightly as they did in the Land of the Living, most likely because the buildings were very lit themselves.

"Héctor?"

"Hm?"

"Are all buildings in the Dead World so colourful and bright?"

"You're one curious chica, aren't you, Rosa?"

Rosa bowed her head, gripping her right forearm. "I'm sorry, I won't ask anything else if it bothers you."

"No, no, no, pequeña, I don't mind. Ask anything you want. It's always good to ask questions about what you don't know. The answer is no, not everywhere in the Land of the Dead is like this. There are many places where there is little or even no light, unfortunately." A shadow crossed his face, but he cheered up almost instantly.

"Then, I have another question." Miguel raised his hand as if he were in class.

"Do tell, chamaco." Héctor smiled, making Rosa wonder if he was always this patient; sometimes she got told to quiet down because of so many questions. But Héctor seemed genuinely pleased to have a conversation with them.

"Are there other plants here besides cempasúchil? They're the only plants I've seen so far."

"No, there aren't. Some people are happy about that, others… not so much, including me. I believe you understand why marigold flowers are the only ones here."

"Because they are the flowers that are put on ofrendas." Rosa whispered in comprehension; he nodded in approval.

Two minutes of silence passed, until Héctor said: "So which one of you is older?"

"No offence, Héctor, but why do you want to know that?" Miguel dragged the words for as long as he could.

"Just curious, but don't tell me if you don't want to."

"Which one of us do you think it is?" Rosa challenged him.

Héctor stroked his goatee, squinting in concentration as his eyes flicked from one child to another. Both kids awaited his reply with bated breath as if it were their lifeline.

Say me. Say me! Miguel desperately prayed in his mind.

"Stop staying on your toes, primo! You're embarrassing us in front of our judge here."

At last, Héctor sighed. "Sorry, chamaco."

Rosa jeered triumphantly. Miguel face-slapped, shoulders slumping.

"Dang it! You betrayed me, Héctor!"

"He's just envious because I'm older. And more mature. He's pretty sensitive about this." She said matter-of-factly. "I have been chosen to grace this planet first. I must confess that the first fifteen months of my life have been the happiest I've ever felt." Rosa teased her cousin in mock emotion.

"You've always been so boastful about that." Miguel crossed his arms in a way that reminded Héctor a great deal of his estranged wife. "Why does it matter to you so much? You see what kind of torture I've been sentenced to endure, Héctor? I haven't had one peaceful minute in my entire life! But I'm taller, you know." It was his turn to smirk.

"By one inch!" She exploded.

Héctor burst out chortling. "I think you're both awesome." He said after he'd calmed down, ruffling Miguel's bangs and patting Rosa's head.

Their eyes went wide. Finally, someone who didn't compare them to one another, which they absolutely despised! Finally, somebody who saw them side by side and noticed each for who and what they were!

Rosa couldn't help but wonder about his age. He seemed young, definitely not older than thirty. But would that question come across as impolite?

Because of the uncertainty, she chose not to risk hurting him once more.

After ten minutes of content ambling down the streets, they reached a four-storey building that lacked the usual fairy lights. Héctor straightened to look up before taking off his left arm. He used his suspenders to slingshot said arm to the window of the third floor of the building, where it swung on the railbar, then his hand knocked on the window.

Miguel and Rosa watched in silent awe. He was the first person they saw embracing, using his skeletonness that way.

"Héctor, did you know these incredibly useful things called doors have been invented?" she sassed.

"Ah, where's the fun in that, chiquita?"

"I think you and my cousin are gonna be good friends."

Miguel grinned, totally glad.

A woman opened the window, pointing at Héctor with his arm. Or better said, he used it to point at himself.

"You better have my dress, Héctor!"

Why did her voice have to be so similar to Mamá Imelda's?

"¡Hola, Ceci!"

Did she mean the Frida design? Rosa questioned herself.

Cecilia dropped his arm, which he caught right before the ladder she released landed with a screeching sound on the ground. All three climbed up while Héctor easily reattached his arm. It was clear he'd done this sort of thing plenty of times, perhaps he'd even practised it.

They climbed through the windows into what turned out to be a costume room.

The cousins greeted her, Héctor beginning to apologize as soon as he set his foot onto the floor.

"Ceci, I lost the dress."

"¡Ya lo sabía! I gotta dress forty dancers by sunrise! And thanks to you, I'm one Frida short of an opening number!"

While the man kept trying to calm her down, Rosa suddenly became immersed in one of the dresses on a mannequin. The dresses were identical to the one Héctor had possessed at the bridge.

"I wish I could wear this. So these costumes are for some kind of show." She daydreamed, touching the soft fabric. It was far lighter than their own clothes. Perhaps this aspect had to do with this world's laws too.

"Maybe they're for de la Cruz's show from the billboard." Miguel spoke.

But her attention was plagued by something else.

"Frida? You mean Frida Kahlo?"

The adults changed their focus to her.

"Sí, niña." Cecilia informed.

The girl's heart filled with hope. "Is… is she here?"

"Yes."

The cousins shared a knowing look.

"If we get to meet De la Cruz, why not meet Frida too?" Rosa said, to which Miguel gave an avid nod.

Amped, they tailed along Dante into the warehouse, as if he knew where the renowned artist was.

"I guess your dog is worth keeping around." she admitted.

"Well, he led us to Héctor in the first place."

The huge art studio was divided into multiple workspaces for artists, with huge portraits on easels and beautifully dressed mannequins. One in particular drew Miguel's heed.

A female skeleton was posing nude for a painter in one of the areas, her back turned to them.

Rosa had to force herself to stop staring. Despite the skeleton body looking way more different than the living body, she'd never been - and would never be - able to understand how one, especially a woman, had the guts to not only strip in front of strangers, but also to pose.

"Come on, primo. This isn't for us." She pushed him forwards right when the woman's skull rotated towards them. "Excuse us, Señora!"

They suddenly heard barking.

"¡Ay, Dios! What did he do now?"

They rushed to find Dante with a monkey alebrije on his head, bounding wildly around the place.

"No, no, Dante! ¡Ven acá!" Miguel chased him as the dog knocked over chairs and small tables.

"Sorry!" he called to the people who had been disrupted.

Rosa attempted to catch the dog by positioning herself in front of him, but she failed when Dante leaped past her. The multi-colored monkey hopped from table to table, ultimately landing on a woman's shoulder, who was scrutinising a painting.

They seized Dante before he could have launched himself at the monkey.

The woman turned around.

Before them stood none other than Frida Kahlo herself.

A/N: Alright, so Rosa starts warming up to Héctor, but she's still a little reluctant to trust him, I'm not sure how well I depicted that. And Miguel still has some indignation towards her, but things will get better for them.

If I remember correctly, Lee Unkrich said somewhere that the only plants growing in the Land of the Dead are marigolds, so any other plants found there are just made of metal/plastic. I just had to add that detail to the story.

I think you picked up on the fact that I used the novelization for a bit of inspiration. This will happen in some of the next chapters too.

Anyway, thanks a lot for reading, as usual! I'd love to know what you think!