Suddenly, the day of the talent show finally arrived.
Everybody from Pátzcuaro, had gathered around at the plaza to see many aspiring musicians perform.
A tall lady wearing a long white and pink dress slid across the stage up to the microphone. "Who's ready for some música?" She shouted. Everybody cheered. "The winner will win the grand prize money! Let the show begin!" There was thunderous applause. One by one, all the musicians performed. Some were great. Others gave a so-so show.
Behind the stage, Ernesto and his band were made sure their guitars were perfectly in tune. "So If we perform, we will be chosen to go on a world tour with you, isn't that right?" Ernesto whispered to the talent agent. "Sí," Señor Molina replied. "But only if you win."
Do you hear that boys? it is time to show the world just how talented we truly are!"
Antonio and Gustavo nodded without hesitation.
But not Héctor. Even though he had been rehearsing "The World Es Mi Familia," religiously, the songwriter was still feeling apprehensive of his performance. It was as if there butterflies in his stomach.
"Okay, Héctor," he muttered to himself while looking into his reflection at the fountain. "You can do this! You've been practicing a lot!" He sighed, still feeling the butterflies. He scooped up some water with his hands and splashed them onto his face. Then, he shook his arms a few times. The songwriter took a deep breath and let out the best grits he could muster. "Boy, that felt good!" he sighed, in relief.
Suddenly, the emcee lady announced that Héctor and his band were up next!
Héctor picked up his guitar and walked toward the stage.
"Presenting to you our last act, Ernesto and the Three Caballeros!" The emcee announced.
The round of applause and cheers was music to Ernesto. "Showtime!" He whispered, fondly, facing the audience. "Hit it Héctor!"
His best friend smiled. He let out a grito and began strumming his guitar fast, before singing.
"Señoras y señores
Buenas tardes, buenas noches
Buenas tardes, buenas noches
Señoritas y señores
To be here with you tonight brings me joy, que alegria
For this music is my language, and the world es mi familia
For this music is my language, and the…"
When the song ended, everybody broke out into applause! Héctor frowned, for he had noticed something quite odd. During their performance, the women had been swooning and fainting whenever Ernesto gave them a flirtatious wink or kissed their hand. Didn't Ernesto tell those girls he was married? Another thing he noticed was that Ernesto whispered something into the emcee's ear. Whatever he had said to her, she beamed and walked toward center stage, as the crowd ceased their clapping and cheers.
"Wow, wasn't that wonderful? Before we can announce tonight's winner, Ernesto and the Three Caballeros have another song to play!"
Another song? Héctor wondered. What is she talking about? We only wrote one!
"It is called-what was the name of the song, again, Señor De la Cruz?"
The muscle man stepped forward and took the microphone. "This song will be performed by Héctor Rivera and it is called...Un Poco Loco!"
"WHAT!?" Héctor cried while everybody cheered and clapped. The musician didn't know what to think. "How could you?" He hissed at Antonio and Gustavo.
"Simple," Gustavo said. "We took your book, showed it to Ernesto and he approved!"
The songwriter was so surprised he could hardly speak.
"Don't worry, break a leg!" Antonio said softly. "This is your time to shine!"
The men exited the stage right, leaving a nervous skinny guitarist alone. His eyes widened and his heart was beating faster than usual. Oh, mierda What do I do? What do I do? His thought raced in his head. He wrote Un Poco Loco only for Imelda. What would people say if they find out that he wrote it for a married woman? Does Ernesto know? He never planned to sing his personal number in front of the crowd! Héctor looked at his band helplessly.
Ernesto was angrily ripping his charro suit into two. Antonio made a guitar with his hands, signaling him to play. Gustavo started eating his hat. Do something! Ernesto mouthed at him. With his finger, he drew a line across his neck.
Sweating and swallowing a gulp, the songwriter moved his fingers across the strings once more. Instead of a graceful sound, it was clumsy.
"What color is the sky
¡Ay, mi amor! ¡Ay, mi amor!
You tell me that it's red
¡Ay, mi amor! ¡Ay, mi amor!
Where should I put my shoes
¡Ay, mi amor! ¡Ay, mi amor!
You say put them on your head
¡Ay, mi amor! ¡Ay, mi amor!
You make me
Un poco loco
Un poquititito loco
The way you keep me guessing
I'm nodding and I'm yessing
I'll count it as a blessing
That I'm only
Un poco loco!"
Although his voice was on-key, it sounded less energetic, compared to his last song. Héctor continued singing anyway, knowing that the show must go on. As he sang the words, one thought ran through his mind: I wish I was singing this in front of Imelda!
The songwriter felt as if he couldn't move his feet across the stage. It was as if his legs were made of wood.
"The loco that you make me
It is just un poco crazy
The sense that you're not making
The liberties you're taking
Leaves my cabeza shaking
You are just
Un poco loco...
Un poquititi-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-to loco!"
After Héctor belted out the last note, he couldn't wait to get offstage! So he ran as fast as he could while the crowd clapped out of politeness. He couldn't bear to look at his friends' looks of disappointment. "I ruined it!" He said to himself.
"Héctor you idiota!" Ernesto barked at him. "What the hell was that?"
Backstage, Ernesto was yelling at his friend who looked so downhearted. Gustavo and Antonio just crossed their arms and glared at him.
"You had one song to sing!" The large man snarled. "One song!"
"Technically, I had two songs," Héctor sassed back. And I had no intention to sing Un Poco Loco, just the World Es Mi Familia! How was I supposed to know that I was going to also sing the former?"
"I gave you a nice surprise so you can shine as your own musician and to boost up our chances at winning! Now we are going to lose all because of you!" Ernesto grabbed Héctor by his collars and glared daggers at him. "I am going to k-"
"Perdóneme señors," a male voice interrupted Ernesto's threat. Seeing that it was the talent agent, the muscle man abruptly dropped his friend and wiped his frown with a huge smile.
Héctor slowly sat up and glared at his friend, while rubbing his head.
"Señor Molina! What a delightful evening this has been, hasn't it?"
"Oh sí," Molina nodded. "In fact, they are just about to announce the winner.
"And the winner of this grand prize money goes to...Ernesto and the Three Caballeros!" the emcee announced. The crowd broke out into applause.
"We won!?" Ernesto asked in disbelief. "We won! Woohoo!" He was so happy that he hugged Héctor-and almost crushed his arms! Antonio and Gustavo danced around in joy.
"And here are the three contracts for the world tour!" Señor Molina said, holding the papers holding in a neat pile.
Ernesto dropped Héctor, not caring that he repeated the same mistake again. When Molina gave each contract to the three men, Ernesto shouted excitedly: "This is fantastico! I get the prize money and a world tour! Woohoo! I'm saved! I'm saved!" He gave his contract a kiss!
"Hey...," Héctor smiled awkwardly. "Is there a contract for me, too?"
"Oh no, you won't be able to go on the world tour with your band," Molina said apologetically.
Héctor didn't know what to say. "P-por que?"
"Well...how do I say this nicely?" Molina said. "I am sure you are a great musician, but your last performance was mediocre. I am looking for someone who shows perfection and star appeal."
But señor!" Héctor protested. "I beseech you to reconsider your decision. Give me another chance!"
"I am sorry Héctor but my decision is final!"
Desperate to prove himself, the songwriter began playing his guitar. He meant to play it sweetly but his playing sounded aggressive.
His friend snatched his guitar out of his hands.
"Héctor, didn't you hear what Señor Molina said? You failed and you can't come!"
"Oh yes I can!" the tall man laughed, coldly. "Who is going to write your songs then? Hmmm? You can't, Antonio can't, and neither can Gustavo! I may not be the best musician ever but I am the greatest songwriter ever!"
Before one of his bandmates could respond with an angry retort or comeback, Molina beat them to it.
"Au contraire, I already know a man, Señor Lopez, who is a marvelous songwriter. He has also won a couple of awards and has years of experience in songwriting! He will be joining your band in the tour!"
"Will someone vouch for me?" the skinny musician asked, desperately. "Ernesto, you are my best friend, say something!"
"Disculpa Héctor," Ernesto said, firmly. "But I can't let you fail me again like you did tonight. Besides, this Señor Lopez sounds promising. After all, he is experienced."
Héctor felt as if his world came crashing down.
He couldn't believe he had failed!
Several minutes later, Héctor had walked into a bar of Sol Inn. It was the only bar that was still open late at night. It wasn't crowded-only one bartender, and a group of six men playing cards at one table.
"Hola señor!" The bartender waved to him from the counter. He waited until his guest sat down on one of the stools. "What can I get for you?"
"Tequila, por favor," the songwriter answered, sadly.
"Coming right up!" The bartender smiled. He washed his grubby hands and began mixing drinks.
As Héctor waited for his drink, he couldn't help but think how everything didn't work out! When he was a boy, it was always his dream to become a Musician! Music was his passion! He had hoped that he and Ernesto, who also shared the same dream, would become the best musicians together! But he was wrong. "Oh, I failed everything!" He cried, covering his face. He looked at his two money wraps in his pocket. Even though the whole band was bestowed the grand prize money, and Héctor received half of its money (after splitting it with the band), he still felt like a failure. The only upside he could think of was that his reward money would help him support Tío Chicharron, Tia Juanita, and himself.
The bartender served him tequila. Héctor thanked him, and as he was sipping his drink, he heard distant giggling that sounded like Ernesto and a woman. When he turned around, he saw something that caused him to drop his glass. There was his best friend making out with a woman that was not Imelda! He could not believe his eyes! Why was Ernesto doing this? He knew that as children, Ernesto liked every girl but he thought marriage had changed him. Apparently, it didn't look like it. The songwriter hopped off his stool and silently approached them. He had to clear his throat a few times to get his friend's attention.
His best friend and the blonde woman stopped kissing and both turned to see Héctor glaring at them.
"Ernesto, what are you doing?" the skinny man questioned, angrily. "And who is this woman in your arms that is not Imelda?"
"Yo soy Camille!" the woman answered, in a ditzy voice. Her lavender perfume traveled to Héctor's nose, which scrunched up. Now he knew why his best fried smelled like lavenders days ago.
In response to his question, the large man just simply said he has his needs. When his skinny friend looked dumbfounded, the man laughed, "Oh come on, Hector! You are a man! Surely you understand what it is like to have needs. I have my needs and they need to be met."
"But-but you are married!" Héctor stammered.
"Sí! Y?"
"You should love her and be faithful to her! Just like how Jacob loved Rachel."
"Hey, my 'Rachel' didn't satisfy me! She failed her only duty as a wife! Which is why I am visiting my Leah."
"How do you live with yourself? Does Imelda know about this?"
"Of course she knows, you dimwit! That's why she never asked me where I was going or where I was staying. She knows that I was seeing other woman like Camille here and staying at Sol Inn!"
"Ernesto this is wrong!"
"And so was being married to Imelda! I never loved her and she never loved me, so why should she be bothered by that?"
"Unbelievable!"
"Héctor, you must understand! My reputation is very important to me. People think I am no man just because I married an outspoken woman, who can't produce children! Having sex with many women makes me a man!"
"If having sex with a lot of women makes you a man, then does that make a dog any more of a man too? How is it that as a married man, you are still an 'ojo alegre?' You repulse me!"
"Gracias!" Ernesto said, with a smug smile. "Now if you excuse me and Camille, we need to retire to our room. Tell Imelda I won't be home for the night or so!" Ernesto and Camille walked off together arm in arm away from a jaw-dropped and disgusted Héctor. The angry man threw a punch at the wall (and sheepishly apologized to the annoyed bartender, before paying for his drink and walking out ). "What do I tell Imelda?"
Back at home, Imelda was cooking some food for herself, Héctor, and Ernesto. She had not attended the talent show for going there for it brought back painful memories from two years ago. Although her mind was full of sorrow, there was a tinge of guilt in her. Héctor had invited her to come. He told her that it would be fun for her, and she would have a good excuse to get out of the house. But she had declined, not wanting anything to do concerts for a while. She needed another year to recover. "Should I have gone there to give him
my support?" she asked Pepita. Then she shook her head. "Probably not. I am sure Héctor is doing all right," she said to herself. At the sound of the door knocking, she went to answer it. "It must be Héctor!"
Pepita let out a happy meow. When the woman answered it, she expected her friend to dance into her house with joy like always. But when he walked in, his eyes were downcast and his back was hunched over. Her heart sank at the poor sight.
"Héctor, what's wrong?"