When Miguel and his primos came home, they greeted their parents and grandparents with hugs and kisses. Last they embraced their beloved bisabuela, Mamá Coco.

"Hola Julio and Victoria!" The old woman smiled as her great-grandchildren kissed her.

"Hola Mamá Coco!" Miguel hugged her.

"Como estás, Julio?"

Miguel's smile turned upside down. Her memory was not doing so well. Sometimes she forgot names or confused her grandchildren with other relatives.

"Oye, I thought I was Julio!" Abel said.

WHAP!

"Ow!" the teenager yelped, rubbing the back of his head.

Abuelita "Elena" Rivera, had hit him from behind with her chancla. "Stop confusing your bisabuela, and get back to work on those shoes for Señor Gomez!"

Abel shrank and backed away from her. "Yes, Abuelita." He dashed before Abuelita could hit him with her shoe again.

"Rosa, deliver these shoes to Señor Hernandez!" The old woman put a box of shoes into her granddaughter's hands.

"Yes, Abuelita!"

She walked away, happily, as if delivering shoes was her most favorite thing to do in the world.

Miguel rolled his eyes. Unlike the rest of the family, he found working in the Rivera shoe shop, to be quite a bore. Why didn't Mama Imelda and Papa Hector start a family business in something else like candy, toys, or fireworks? Anything more fun than shoes! Too bad doing a music shop was also out of the question. Otherwise, they would have been selling guitars. Then the boy remembered the talent show that Carlos and Maria told him about. He would have asked his parents but they were busy with working on new shoes. Tío Berto, Papá Franco, and Tía Gloria had just left to deliver shoes to someone who lived in a different town next to Santa Cecilia. Tía Carmen was watching his younger cousins, Manny and Benny. So Abuelita was his only option. His grandmother rushed to the open window of their shop when she heard an impatient customer calling for her.

"Señora Rivera? Where's my shoe order?"

"Hold your horses, Diego, it's coming!"

Grumbling about customers being impatient and annoying, she went to fetch a box of new shoes, while her grandson followed her like a duckling following its mother.

"Abuelita, I need to ask you something."

"Not now, Miguel," Abuelita shooed him away. "I am busy!"

"But Abuelita-"

"Go and see Señora López next door, her shoes need shining!"

"Yes, Abuelita," the boy sighed, deflating. He would had have continued to ask but, he knew better than to pester Abuelita when she was working. He supposed that his request would have to wait.

Later, dinner came around. Miguel was sitting next to Mamá Coco.

"Mamá, Papá, Abuelita? May I ask you something?"

"Yes, Miguel, what is it that you wanted to ask?" Enrique smiled, ruffling his son's hair.

"There is a musical talent show coming up, Carlos and Maria are going to sign up and they also want me to um...s-sign-"

"Sign up?" his mother raised an eyebrow.

Yes, Mamá."

Abuelita frowned. Tío Berto and Abel spit out their drinks. Tía Carmen dropped her fork. Tía Gloria dropped her glass of water which crashed to the floor. Rosa and Franco gasped.

"Uh oh!" chorused Manny and Benny.

"No, absolutamente no!" Enrique spoke firmly, without any hesitation.

"But Papá!"

"You know the rules: No music!"

"Which I have told you that many times before!" Abuelita glared at him.

"But it's only for one day on Dia Dos Muertos, and I really want to sign up!"

"Good luck!" Rosa snickered. "You need talent to be in the talent show. It's not like you can play an instrument, like a violin!"

"Yeah," Abel sneered. "Or an accordion!"

"Hey, that's enough!" Franco chided them.

Abuelita's frown deepened even more, when she heard what day the talent show was on.

"Dia Dos Muertos is a holiday that you spend with your familias, not at some silly musical show! Come with me to the ofrenda after dinner."

Miguel shrank in his seat, wishing that the ground would swallow him up. He knew they were going to say no. Why did he bother asking them?

After dinner was over, Miguel followed Abuelita while she pushed Mamá Coco, who was in a wheelchair toward the ofrenda. They walked inside, both grandmas and grandson standing in front of the family ofrenda.

"Like I said, Días Dos Muertos is a holiday when we all spend time with our family. Especially with our ancestors! We put their photos and memorabilia up on the ofrenda so they can cross over and visit us, once a year. Being here for this family is very important to them."

"What does this have to do with the music ban?"

"It has everything to do with the music ban! Music ruined your Papa Héctor's life!"

"How?"

Her grandson was curious. While he knew the music ban, he didn't know what really happened that made his great-great grandparents to enforce it. He had asked before but nobody would tell him why, because they didn't know themselves. And they didn't want to receive Elena's wrath for bringing it up. Perhaps...Abuelita is telling him now?

Fear flashed through the old woman's eyes.

"I cannot tell you!"

"Por qué? What happened to Papa Héctor-"

"Music ruined his life-that's all you need to know!"

"But-"

"No more questions!"

"Papá?" Mamá Coco asked. She had been so quiet that Abuelita and Miguel almost forgot that she was here.

"Is Papá here?" The 99-year-old woman asked, again. "Is Mamá here?"

"No Mamá, Papá and Mamá are not here. But I am here."

"Victoria, mija, is that you?"

Abuelita let out a sad sigh. Her mother cannot recognize her anymore.

"Mira Miguel, that's all I can say. Music ruined Papá Hector, almost cost him, and I don't want that to happen to you." She didn't hear a response or a question from the 12-year-old. "Miguel?" She looked up and saw that the boy had disappeared. Where did he run off?

She sighed, again. He was always running off to who-knows-where. She had attempted to tell him something important and he ran off! Abuelita looked up at the photo of her grandparents.

"Papá Hector and Mamá Imelda, what am I going to do? I wished I can tell him why but that would mean revealing your secret. "

"I can tell him," Mamá Coco suggested. Her voice was weak and soft, but Elena managed to hear her.

"No, Mamácita, it is best if I tell him myself," the 60-year-old woman answered. "Besides I need to figure how to do it delicately." Her shoulders sagged, and her eyes became cloudy. "Oh, but even if I do, he'll never forgive me!"