Chapter 27: Desperation

Coco guided her bow expertly across the violin's strings, producing soft and delicate notes that flowed through the air gracefully. Her audience was only her mother as she lay in bed listening to the sweet music playing with a soft smile on her pale face. The gentle music was soothing to the soul, but her insides squirmed in discomfort and her head was pounding. Still she kept her complaints to herself. It was Dia de Muertos after all, and now was not the time to worry her family over an upset stomach when there was celebrating to be done.

The song gently finished and Coco spoke in a soft radio voice. "And that was Sérénade Mélancolique by the great Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, performed by the lovely young Socorro Rivera de Magallanes. We hope you enjoyed this program, as always sponsored by Coca-Cola." She picked up a bottle from the bedside table and took a long drink from it as Imelda chuckled.

"You played so beautifully Coco. Gracias." Imelda said tiredly.

Coco rubbed a hand over her stomach and smiled. "The baby kept kicking and rolling the whole time I was playing. I bet it's going to be a dancer just like her parents."

"Hmm…" Imelda sighed and closed her eyes. "Coco, you should go on outside with the rest of the family and enjoy yourself. I'm going to turn in early tonight… I can barely keep my eyes open…"

"Are you sure Mamá?" At Imelda's weak nod Coco leant over to give her mother a kiss and rubbed a hand over the bump protruding from under the bed sheets. "Alright then, you rest. One of us will check on you after the concert. It shouldn't be more than an hour. Goodnight Mamá."

And with that Coco heaved herself out of the chair and walked out of the bedroom. Unbeknownst to her Imelda was not alone as three glowing spirits stood around her bedside and looked down on the slumbering woman.

Mirasol sat in the chair that had been previously been occupied by her granddaughter and placed her hand on Imelda's cheek. "Pobrecita…" She whispered worriedly. "She looks so tired. So thin."

"She'll be alright." Gaspar reassured both his wife and Leti. "If there's one thing we know about Imelda is that she's strong. She'll pull through this and come next year we'll have a new grandchild to fawn over and you Leticia will have a new brother or sister."

"I always wanted a little brother or sister." Leti said as she looked down at her mother. "I mean technically Matty is my little brother but five minutes doesn't really count, you know? And you can bet that it's going to learn to play an instrument too! I wonder what it'll be… Maybe a tuba! That would be pretty funny. Or the clarinet. Oboe?"

"Speaking of instruments," Gaspar interrupted his granddaughter's prattling. "I think that your Papá and Mateo are about to head out to Mariachi Plaza for their little concert. We'd best get going!"

"If you don't mind Gaspar I think I'm going to stay here with Imelda." Mirasol said with concern. "I know it's not every day I get to see my grandson perform but… I want to stay here with my daughter. It doesn't matter that there's nothing that I can do for her, I don't want her to be alone…"

Gaspar's brow furrowed and looked down at Leti. "Maybe we should stay as well…" The little girl nodded in agreement.

"No no, there's no need. You two go have fun and you can tell me how it went when you come back. I'll be right here, so don't worry." Mirasol smiled at the two of them in reassurance.

"Well if you're sure… Okay we'll go." Gaspar bent down and kissed his daughter on the cheek, and Leti followed suit. "We'll be back soon. C'mon Leticia."

Mirasol watched the two of them exit the room before turning her attention back to her sleeping daughter. She placed a hand on Imelda's large stomach and another on her face, worried at the heat she felt. "It's alright cielita. Mamá is here. Don't you worry…"

Leti skipped over to where her brother and Barto were conversing in their charro suits near the courtyard entrance. It was surreal to see how Matty had grown to look exactly like their father, only with slightly more muscle mass and softer features. And the height! Only seventeen years old and he was already a good inch and a half taller than Papá! As she craned her neck back to look at the two teenagers she caught the tail-end of their conversation.

"… so lucky, amigo!" Barto exclaimed as he hefted the giant bass drum over his large gut. "All those nights studying away while the rest of us were out partying have finally paid off. It's not enough being the first person in Santa Cecilia to go to university, but going to an Ivy League school in America! I tell you, Yalé won't know what hit 'em!"

Matty rolled his eyes. "It's Yale Barto, not Yalé. There's no accent… Besides, just because I applied there doesn't mean I'm going to get in. I doubt such a prestigious white school is going to let in some ratty little brown kid from the middle of Nowhere, Mexico."

Barto shoved Matty on the shoulder. "Don't talk like that! You are the son of Héctor Rivera and the godson of Ernesto de la Cruz! I'm sure once they're done shoving money down those pendejo's throats then they'll be begging you to study there!"

"That's just it… I haven't told my parents I applied there yet." Matty looked down to the ground and nervously fingered the valves of his trumpet. "What with Mamá being so sick I didn't want to upset her with the prospect of leaving, especially out of the country. But I want to help expand Rivera Shoes to America, and I can't think of a better way of doing that than by getting a business degree in one of the best schools they have. Once the baby is born and everything settles down I'll tell them, so let's just keep this a secret for now."

Barto placed a hand on his chest. "You're entrusting me to keep this life-altering decision a secret? Amigo, I'm touched."

"Alright chamacos, its showtime!" Héctor said as walked up to the two boys carrying his white guitar. "We got to hurry over to Mariachi Plaza, perform and then head straight back. I don't want to leave your Mamá alone for too long, but she's sleeping right now so it should be alright. Vamanos!"

As the group exited the courtyard and walked down the street, Gaspar couldn't help but beam with pride. "Did you hear that mija? My grandson going to university, and one of the top schools in America to boot! Ay, I can't wait to brag to all mis amigos at the cantina tomorrow!"

"But Abuelito, isn't it far away from Santa Cecilia?" Leti asked with worry. "What if we don't get to see him again next year because he'll be too far away? I don't think it's a very good idea…"

"Leticia, I'm sure that Mateo will put your foto on his own ofrenda in America. Yes it'll be a pain to visit two ofrendas in one night, but after tangling with the Department of Family Reunions it will be a breeze… Ooh, actually it'll be three ofrendas for you. I forgot about Oscar and Felipe." Gaspar shook his head. "The point is that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for your brother. When I was his age I didn't even know how to read, let alone go to university. We should welcome any chance to better ourselves, mija."

"Hmm." Leti slowly nodded and let the subject drop. She still wasn't too keen on the idea, but if it was what Matty really wanted and it would help out the family business than who was she to judge? It wasn't like she had any say in it anyways. As the family, living and dead, continued their trek down to Mariachi Plaza a frantic voice pierced through the air.

"Gaspar! Leticia!" At the sound of their names the two of them whipped around to see Mirasol barreling towards them. She took her husband's hand and began to pull frantically. "It's Imelda! Something's wrong! I think the baby is coming!"

"What?!" Gaspar cried out and Leti gasped in fear. The three of them sprinted back towards the house at break neck speed. "No no no! It's too soon for it to be time! I heard that she's only seven and a half months along!"

They all raced through the doors and made their way into Imelda's bedroom, where they found her weakly tossing her head and moaning loudly, her face pale and covered with sweat. Mirasol went back to her side and helplessly tried to soothe her child but to no avail. They all jumped when Imelda suddenly shouted out in agony and Leti grabbed Gaspar's hand and shook it hard.

"Abuelito! We need to go back to the family! We need to make them come back so they can help Mamá!" Leti cried out.

Gaspar ran a hand through his hair as he frantically looked back and forth between Leti and Imelda. "Leticia, there's nothing we can do! They can't see or hear us, it'd be pointless to even-"

Suddenly Imelda let out a long, keening wail and weakly managed to fling the thick blankets off of her body. The three spirits gasped in horror at what they saw: the front of Imelda's white nightshirt was stained red with blood. Imelda looked down and moaned at the sight of the blood, and then softly began to cry. "H-Héctor…"

Gaspar stiffened at the sound of his little girl crying and glared hard. "Screw it, we have to try! Mirasol, stay with Imelda! Leticia, vamanos!"

Leticia took one last look at her mother before running back out into the streets with her grandfather beside her. Her ribs heaved with exertion and fright as she rounded the corner and managed to catch up with her family. She grabbed onto Coco's wrist and pulled back hard as her older sister continued to walk obliviously. "Coco! Coco, stop! You all need to come back! Mamá's in trouble! Coco, please- ah!" Leti flew back and crashed to the ground, having pulled so hard that her arms had popped off at the shoulders and left her body. With a groan she sat up and watched as Coco continued forward with her hands still clutching at her wrist.

"Héctor! Go back!" Gaspar waved his hands in front of his son-in-law's face, but Héctor continued to stare blankly ahead. "Imelda's having the baby, yerno! It's bad! C'mon, you must have some sort of spiritual connection with her! You must sense that your wife is hurt, pendejo!" Héctor didn't even blink. "Ay, carajo! I swear that when you die cabrón I am going to kick your skull into the deepest, darkest sinkhole that I can find!"

"Spiritual connection… That's it!" Leti went to her brother and took hold of his hand as he walked. "Matty, escúchame por favor! I know you can't hear me, but I've always known that you've been able to at least sense me in the past! We've got a bond that can never be broken. So please sense me! Mamá is hurt. She and the baby could be dying! Please go back! Please!"

It was almost miraculous the way Matty suddenly stopped in his tracks with a thoughtful expression on his face. Leti gasped in surprise and hope while Gaspar gaped in astonishment. The rest of the family stopped as well as they turned to look at Matty, who looked up at Héctor with a strange look. "Hey, Papá. I've been thinking…"

"What is it, mijo?" Héctor asked, while Gaspar and Leti waited with baited breath.

"… Do you think I could play some Louis Armstrong on stage?" Matty asked with a grin. "You know, try something new?" And with that he started playing When the Saints Go Marching In with gusto, not hearing two furious screams erupt from behind.

Héctor laughed. "You need to know your audience, chamaco."

"Pinche idiota!" Leti screamed as her kicks phased though Matty's legs. "I'm going to knock your skull off too!"

"It's no use, mija." Gaspar said softly in defeat. "We tried. C'mon, let's hurry back!"

As they ran back to the house Leti prayed that maybe her Mamá would end up pulling through, that this was just a scary symptom of pregnancy that would soon fade and she would be back to normal. When they entered the bedroom her hopes were shattered. Imelda had managed to stumble out of the bed and was slumped onto the floor, rocking back and forth and moaning in pain. Mirasol looked up at the two of them, daring to hope that the living family had followed, only to sag in defeat. "They aren't coming."

Gaspar sank to his knees beside his daughter, his face crumpled in agony as he stared at his baby girl. He had failed her in life, and now he had failed her in death too. He wrapped his arms around Imelda and a dry sob burst out of him. "I'm sorry mija… I tried… I tried…"

As Leti watched her grandparents embrace her mother she too collapsed in grief. For years she had wanted to be with her living family again. She had wanted them to be able to see and hear her. To be able to talk to them and be loved them. She knew one day they would be reunited and couldn't wait for the day. But not like this. Not in a way that would surely rip a giant gaping hole in her family's hearts. Papá would be destroyed if anything were to happen to Mamá. She couldn't let this happen. There had to be a way. Any way! Please!

"Aroo?"

Three skeletal heads shot up and looked towards the intruding sound at the doorway, and their jawbones nearly dropped off of their skulls at what they saw. Standing there, having finished gorging himself on the leftover food and covered in mole sauce and beans, was…

"DANTE!"

Dante yipped happily and came forward to lick Leti on the cheekbone. It was a shock and an absolute delight to the little skeleton when during one past Dia de Muertos she had discovered that Dante had been able to see and interact with her and her grandparents. Abuelita had said that this was because Dante was a Xolo dog and in ancient times they were known as guiders of wandering spirits. Over the years Dante had been one of the highlights of Leti's visits, but it seemed that this time he was going to be her savior.

"Dante, come over here!" Leti said as she guided the dog over to Imelda. "Dante, Mamá is hurting! We need your help, boy!"

Dante's goofy expression turned serious as he saw Imelda weakly moaning on the floor next to the bed. He sniffed the air and snorted as the metallic scent of blood flooded his nostrils, following the trail until he came up right next to her. He sniffed at her gray face and then started to lick her urgently, his slobbery tongue bringing some alertness back to Imelda. She cracked open her eyes and stared blearily at the dog and grunted in pain. "Dante… Héctor… Go get Héctor… Please."

Suddenly she lurched forward and screamed sharply, causing poor Dante to jump back and cower. When he felt a skeletal hand on his hand he turned to Leti. "Follow me boy! We gotta get the family back!"

As Leti and Dante raced back out the door, Gaspar and Mirasol cradled their daughter close to them. "Don't you worry now, mija." Gaspar whispered as hope flowed back into his bones. "Help is on the way!"