#berto rivera

Despite all the big opportunities he was presented, he rejected the offers as he was content to just being a plaza singer. The other mariachis around him thought it was a huge waste of talent.

The thought of travelling to another city for his dream was absolutely scary to Héctor. Every time someone asked him why, he couldn’t really give an answer, so he would just resort to saying he loves Santa Cecilia a little too much and he would get homesick very quickly.

Many other musicians have wanted to collaborate or form a duo or band with him, but he would always decline the offers. He just didn’t trust them for some reason, no matter how close they were.

Currently, he was in his apartment, changing out of his orange charro suit into something more casual. Today was Dia de Muertos, and the Rivera family invited Héctor to come celebrate with them since he lives alone.

He had been a family friend of the Riveras ever since the incident with Luisa. Even when he was still living in the orphanage, he would come visit regularly to help out with Miguel to whom he is a godfather to. They even allowed him to put his mother’s photo on their ofrenda. Eventually, the Riveras had him as a part-time delivery boy and he would help deliver orders to clients.

When he first told them that he wanted to be a musician, they weren’t too happy with his choice of career. But since he wasn’t really family, they couldn’t really stop him from pursuing it. The rules they had for him were that he couldn’t bring his guitar and he couldn’t hum, sing, or dance whenever he visited. Though he thought it was weird, he never went against the rules. Not purposely at least.

“Tío Héctor! You’re here!” a pre-teen boy exclaimed while running up to him.

“Miguel, how have you been?” Héctor greeted as he ruffled the boy’s hair.

“I’m doing great! I’ve been getting better at the guitar as I’ve been practising the chords you’ve taught...” Miguel was immediately cut off with Héctor putting a hand over his mouth.

“Shush, chamaco! We can’t have your Abuelita thinking I’m a bad influence on you.”

“Héctor, so glad to see you could come!” an old lady greeted him.

“Hola, Abuelita.” Héctor greeted back.

“Both of you follow me. I need some help in the ofrenda room.” Abuelita instructed.

The three of them made their way to the ofrenda room. Once there, Héctor was greeted by his mother’s smile in the photo he left.

“Hola Mamá.” Héctor greeted as he planted a kiss on the photo.

“Now, Miguel. You will be setting up the offerings on the ofrenda. Héctor, do help me with the cempasúchils, please.”

“No problem, Abuelita.” The both of the answered.

The both of them began their work. Miguel arranged the offerings on the ofrenda and Héctor got to work on plucking cempasúchil petals to scatter later. Miguel decided to join him after he was done with the offerings.

“So, chamaco...” Héctor began.

“Hmm?”

“I never really asked your family this before, but what is it that made your family hate music so much?”

“Oh, it’s a long story.” Miguel exasperated. “You see, back in 1921, my great-great grandmother and great-great grandfather got married and had a little girl, my Mamá Coco. He was a musician, like you. One day, he had a dream to play for the world and never returned home since then. My Mamá Imelda wasted no time in ridding everything related to music, including him. That’s why you see his face on the photo ripped out.” Miguel explained as he gestured to the photo on top of the ofrenda.

Héctor looked up to see the ripped photo sitting on top of the ofrenda. The more he looked at it, the more familiar it became. Hadn’t he seen that woman before? And the little girl in her lap. Something about the both of them gave him a sense of nostalgia and deja vu. As weird as it sounds, he could almost picture himself being in the moment when that particular photo had been taken.

All of a sudden, his head started pounding as it tried shutting out the distant memories. Héctor dropped the cempasúchils as he gripped his head in pain.

“Tío Héctor? Are you alright?” Miguel asked worriedly.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just got a bit of a headache.” Héctor said with a reassuring grin. “So because of that situation, hence the music ban?”

“Sí. It’s taboo to even mention him.”

“That’s tough, chamaco.” said Héctor as he continued with his task.

“I wish I had a chance to become a musician, just like Ernesto de la Cruz.”

“de la Cruz? That’s your idol?” Héctor snickered.

“Hey, he’s the greatest musician of all time!” Miguel argued with faux annoyance.

“Haha! Greatest butt chin of all time, but his music? Eh, not so much.” Héctor countered.

“You’re so mean to him!” Miguel giggled at Héctor’s remark on Ernesto.

Evening falls and Dia de Muertos has begun...

Miguel’s music collection and guitar were thrown onto the ground right in front of him.

“What is all this? You keep secrets from your family?” Abuelita exclaimed.

“It must be all that time he spends in the plaza.” Tío Berto remarked.

“It filled his head with all these crazy fantasies.” Tía Gloria added.

“It’s not a fantasy! Music is what I love, and I know it’s something I can be good at.” Miguel argued.

“Héctor! Is this your doing? You’re the only one here who is a musician.” Abuelita accused.

“Uh... I.... Yes, kind of...” Héctor admitted.

Everyone in the courtyard gasped.

“But I never let him play, I only showed him chords on the guitar.” Héctor reasoned.

“It doesn’t matter. Now he’s influenced into liking music, because of you.” Abuelita snapped.

“But you said my family would guide me, Mamá Coco’s papá is family. I’m meant to be a musician. It’s not Tío Héctor’s fault.” Miguel protested.

“Never! That man’s music was a curse! I will never allow you to follow in his footsteps.

That remark made Héctor feel really small. Music? A curse? Wait, why is he getting his feelings hurt? It’s not like he wrote that man’s songs.

“But if you would just...” Miguel begged.

“No buts, Miguel! You will listen to your family, no more arguments.” Tío Enrique scolded.

“Just listen to me play.”

“End of discussion!”

Miguel ignored his father’s words and began plucking a tune in an attempt to convince his family. His performance was cut short with Abuelita snatching his guitar away.

“Do you want to end up like that man? Forgotten? Left off your family’s ofrenda?” Abuelita retorted.

Miguel gasped as he looked at Abuelita, taken aback by her words. He then turned to the rest of his family. His eyes finally landed on Héctor, who looked as shocked as he was by her words. He began to tear up.

“So you’re saying, if I play music, you’ll leave me off the family ofrenda?” Miguel asked with a tearful expression.

Everyone looked at him speechless. Tía Luisa spoke up amidst the silence.

“No, Miguel. Abuelita just meant...”

“Then I don’t want to be in this family!” Miguel cried out before running out of the courtyard.

“Miguel!” Héctor called out as he ran after Miguel.

Héctor felt extremely guilty. He never should have shown his music to Miguel, then maybe he wouldn’t have gotten chewed out like that. He had to follow Miguel, to make sure he was safe.

In the streets...

“Miguel, come back! It’s not safe out there!” Héctor called out once more.

“They don’t love me at all, Tío Héctor!” Miguel exclaimed. “They‘re willing to forget me if I play music!”

“Miguel, that’s not true! Abuelita didn’t mean it that way.”

“Yes, she did!”

“Miguel, look out!”

Miguel looked in front of him to see a car speeding towards him. He stood there in shock before feeling a hard push on his back that caused him to tumble forward. He heard a loud crash behind him. He looked back to see Héctor’s body a few feet away from the car that collided into him.

“No... no, no, no, no, no, no!” Miguel muttered as he made his way to Hector’s lifeless body.

“Tío Héctor! Tío Héctor, can you hear me?” Miguel kneeled beside Héctor and placed his hand on Héctor’s chest. There was no heartbeat.

“No, Tío Héctor, please! Wake up! I’m sorry I shouldn’t have run away from you! This is all my fault! Tío Héctor, please wake up! I’m so sorry...”

Abuelita, Tío Enrique, Tío Berto and Abel were able to catch up with the two of them. They stopped in there tracks at the sight in front of them. Miguel cradling Hector’s body and begging him to wake up.

Tío Berto immediately dialled the emergency number to phone an ambulance over. Once it arrived, the paramedics immediately loaded Héctor onto the vehicle with Miguel and the other four Riveras coming along.

At the hospital...

“The Rivera Family?” the doctor called out.

The five of them immediately came up to the doctor. She immediately gave out a sad sigh.

“I’m Doctor Martínez. I regret to inform you that Héctor García was unable to be resuscitated and therefore has passed on. My condolences goes out to you.”

At that point, Miguel collapsed on his knees and started sobbing uncontrollably.

“No, no, no! He was still talking and walking a few hours ago! We were plucking cempasúchil petals just a while ago! He can’t be gone! He can’t be!”

Miguel’s father, uncle and cousin comforted him as best as they could while trying to hold back their own tears. Abuelita stood behind them, hands clasped onto her mouth, silently muttering to herself.

“What have I done?”