Christmas in the Land of the Dead

Synopsis:   Miguel receives a visit from Hector and Imelda during Las Posadas.   One would think that only Dia De Los Muertos gives free range for the spirits to cross the marigold bridge to the Land of the Living and back to the Afterlife.  One, however, would be mistaken.

Chapter 1--Las Posadas

Other than El Dia De Los Muertos, the holidays were Miguel’s most cherished time of year.   He adored walking the symbolic route of Santa Maria and San Jose, looking for a place for bebe Jesus to be born.   Oftentimes, there was a designated location where family, friends and others could gather and have a large feast in preparation for Christmas.    

Miguel couldn’t help reminiscing and contemplating how Imelda and Hector were doing.  He prayed that they had made amends even after years of misunderstandings.   It had come with a near loss of his life, Miguel thought, but seeing the family repaired was enough of a reward for him.   

Miguel was a budding guitar prodigy.  He definitely took after Hector.  His little sister, Socorro adored hearing him play and she had quite the set of pipes on her.   She was learning to play pan flute and the accordion.   The Riviera gene for music was definitely in her blood and she had a fever for dancing too.   Miguel felt laughter bubbling up inside him when Socorro danced.  She was perfectly poised for her age.  

‘I wonder if they celebrate in the Land of the Dead.’, she said.

‘I don’t know Socorro.’, Miguel answered.   Socorro nabbed another churro from the table for the road to return home.   They were going to mass later on that night before they went to bed for the evening but the question remained in his mind long after mass was over.

Chapter 2--An Unusual Experiment

Marigold petals weren’t terribly hard to come by in Miguel’s village.  The Rivera family had plenty in storage so he laid a path from his room all the way to the ofrenda.   

‘Alright.  I know it’s not El Dia De Muertos, but let’s see if this works…’, Miguel thought to himself.   Suddenly, Hector’s photo seemed to be moving.  Imelda gave him a playful wink and he gawked, unable to speak.  

‘Miguelito !’, she said, emerging from the photo with her beloved right beside her.  

‘The marigolds did the trick.   And I heard you wondering about other celebrations.  Sure we have fiestas, just like you do here.’, Hector said, trying to hug his grandson.   His ghastly body didn’t give Hector the ability to hug his grandson but the gesture was highly appreciated.   

‘Ah, seeing you up close and personal is even better than I can imagine.’, Imelda said, beaming with pride.   Coco had come along too, decked out in Luchadora gear.   

‘Looking good grandma Coco !’, Miguel said, giving her a huge thumbs up.  In the Otherworld, she had all her faculties and got around without any aches or pains.  In fact, her dancing skills were second to none.

‘Where is Socorro ?’, Coco queried, taking off her luchador mask and placing it in her purse.  

‘Asleep.  At night, she’s typically out like a light.  Hector, you should hear her play, ai mi, it’s really spectacular.’  Miguel boasted with a massive grin.   

‘Oh, I’ve heard her.  I’ve dropped her some inspiration.’, Hector said with a wink.

‘Wait, she can see you ?  I thought you guys could only visit us on El Dia.’, Miguel said, clearly confused.  

‘You’re right, but the spirit world doesn’t really adhere to so called ‘rules’ as it were.   We come and go as we please.   There’s just more power and ability to move on November for some reason.’, Imelda said, explaining the best way she knew how.   

Chapter 3--Marigolds Might Be the Key

Daylight was coming and Hector gave a small, sad grin.

‘We have to go back.’, he said.   

‘Keep the marigold petals out.  I think they have the ability to let us connect with the physical world.’, Imelda said.

‘Or provide a pathway.’, Coco concurred.  

‘I’ll be sure to do that.  Take care, everyone.  I hope I’ll see you on Christmas.’, Miguel said after waving a fond farewell to his family members.   They seeped through their photos on the ofrenda as quietly as they came in, the marigolds glowing as they made their transition.

‘Coco was right about the pathway !  Genial !  I’ll definitely keep those petals handy, I may need more.’, Miguel mused as he threw himself into bed next to his faithful Xolo dog, Dante.   Dante roused from sleep only momentarily, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.   He gave Miguel a lick on the cheek and promptly fell back to sleep, dreaming of all the glorious skeletos he had seen in the Land of the Dead.   Being a spirit guide meant he could go back whenever he wanted.  Little did Miguel know that Dante often visited the other realm.  He would accompany him into the Land of the Dead someday.   For now, Dante dreamt of running after all those effulgent bones, drooling a puddle onto Miguel’s bedding.  

Chapter 4--La Reunion

It was Christmas, the most tremendous day of the year.   Breakfast had been cooked for the whole Riviera family, which was massive, boisterous but merry.   Gifts had been exchanged and everyone had begun a frenzy of unwrapping them.   

Later on that evening, the whole family went to visit the ofrenda as they usually did as a courtesy to their legacy and heritage.   Socorro had to smile at Grandma Coco’s photo.   

‘I look a lot like Coco !  Don’t I ?’, she said, puffing her chest out in a dramatic way.  

‘Yes, in fact you do.’, her mother said, picking her up and placing her on her shoulders to ride piggy back for a while.   

‘I’m not a baby anymore, mama.’, Socorro asserted.  

‘I’m sorry.  Sometimes your mama forgets.   You’ll always be her daughter, though, no matter how old you get.’, Mama Rivera said, tickling her.   

Luckily the marigold pathway had become illuminated.   As if on cue, Coco, Hector, Imelda and the whole clan emerged.  As if by some Christmas miracle, they had been given temporarily solid forms and could play and embrace the living.  

‘Oh, but this is a dream !’, Hector said.   He began to sing the familiar, festive, fun Tony Orlando song Feliz Navidad.    Everyone joined in, dancing, clapping singing and belting out their best gritas.   It was quite the sight to behold.   

Chapter 6--And What of Ernesto ?

Of course Mama Riviera wanted to know what happened to that no good low-life De La Cruz since he had been put in his place.   He had almost nearly been forgotten by most people after he was found out.   

‘He is starting to fade away.  Justice has been served.’, Imelda stated with a glistening grin.   Ernesto had been living in the Land of the Forgotten.  Even there, not very many residents thought of him kindly or even dared to engage him in conversation.   It was what he deserved for murdering Hector and trying to off Hector’s grandson in front of myriads of witnesses.   

No one wished Ernesto an ill word or snide remark.  His fate was sealed and that’s all there was to it.   

Hector picked up his guitar and played Emmanuel, an old melody he learned from when he was young.  His angelic, melodic and somewhat tragic voice held everyone captive.   At the end of the song, no one was certain whether clapping would ruin the sacred hold the melody had on them.   Boldly, Miguel’s father applauded Hector.   

There was non-alcoholic sangria and plenty of food to be eaten, almost too much.  Of course, Miguel was getting fed more tamales, churros and whatever his grandma could try and stuff into his mouth.

‘Oh, but you’re too skinny, Miguelito.   You gotta put more meat on those bones.’, she averred lovingly.   Miguel, begrudgingly, ate what he could but saved the rest for later.    

Under a sky full of stars, Hector sat close to his love and spouse, Imelda.  Not too far from them was some mistletoe.   Hoping no one else would see them, he leaned over and playfully nudged her literally in the ribcage.

‘Look, cara.  Mistletoe.’, he stated, with a vulpine grin.   Imelda raised her eyebrow and sexily dipped him into her arms, giving him the biggest kiss ever.

‘Ay mami…’, Hector drawled, as if he were drunk.  It was exactly like the first kiss he had shared when they were youngsters.  The fire, the passion, the embers of desire.   All of it, sealed with a kiss.   

‘I love the holidays.’, Hector stated, amorously.  

‘There are children present.’, Imelda said, knowingly.   Hector gave his usual trickster smile and pointed off in the distance.  

‘Oh, is that a pinata ?’, he said.  Perfect distractionary technique.  He and Imelda said their farewells and disappeared into their photos again.    Only Coco and the family remained for the evening’s end.    

Epilogue

Hector actually decided he would have one last visitation that night with Miguel.  He wasn’t certain when he was going to be able to see him again.   Spirit could do as it pleased but the ‘rules’ were sometimes unusual and fuzzy in how they were to be followed, or in their case, not followed.    He gave Miguel a composition that he had written.   It was a Christmas song, a special one that he had written for the family to commemorate their reunion.

Happy moments in this fiesta

Sacred times when we are together

Smiles and laughter, love everywhere

Makes our Christmas grand beyond compare

We are unique and rare

We celebrate with Rivera flair

We shout it loud loud from the rooftops, too

Merry Christmas to our village, Merry Christmas to you !

It was definitely going to become a hit some day.  Miguel had actually been working with agents and since he was excelling in his courses at school, he was going to be headed to Juilliard in America to study.   It would be trying, but he would do his best to become the best flamenco player anyone had ever heard.  He would be the ultimate mariachi, a musician even more famous than the revered Carlos Santana.   These ambitions were gargantuan, but with Hector’s inspiration, he knew that the universe was expansive, as was his imagination.   

With the evening coming to a close, everyone said their farewells and headed to bed.   Hector was eager to see Miguel growing into quite the handsome and talented young man.   He had big dreams, but Hector knew he would go far.  After all, spirit was on his side and he had received Imelda’s blessing so long ago; all of that still lingered around him and on him.  It would indeed culminate.   For the present, Miguel kept pen and paper handy on his nightstand when his muse spoke to him.   Someday, all his dreams would be realized.   He simply never gave up, kept reaching for the clouds and pushing forward even when things became rough.  

The End