Coco Middle Grade Novel

by Diana Lopez

  There’s no time for explanations or apologies. It’s almost sunrise, and Miguel must go home. Pepita glides into the cenote, landing on the rocky island and letting Héctor and Miguel climb onto her back, joining Mamá Imelda and Dante. Then the graceful alebrije rises out of the cenote, ascending above the clouds where the tallest skyscrapers pierce through.

  Miguel’s hood falls off and his hair flaps in the wind, just like Dante’s goofy tongue. Miguel pets him and suddenly remembers that it was Dante who revealed the hidden picture on the ofrenda, Dante who found Héctor in the security office when Miguel first ran away, and Dante who urged Miguel to stay with Héctor after the Battle of the Bands.

  “Dante,” Miguel says, hugging the dog fiercely, “you knew he was my papá Héctor the whole time! You were trying to bring us together. You are a real spirit guide!” He switches to his doggie-praising voice. “Who’s a good spirit guide? You are!”

  Dante smiles dumbly, and then, right before Miguel’s eyes, neon patterns spread outward from the dog’s paws. His tongue goes green, his nose turns yellow, and his body becomes a beautiful mosaic of red, blue, and pink!

  “Whoa!” Miguel says as a pair of little wings sprout on Dante’s back. Dante spreads and flaps them as if to see if they’re sky-worthy. Then he jumps off Pepita’s back, but instead of flying…he plummets beneath the clouds!

  “Dante!” Miguel cries, worried for his friend. A few seconds later, the little dog is back up, flapping goofily and barking loudly. Instead of the smooth, even flight of Pepita, Dante dips down and zigzags like an erratic butterfly, but it doesn’t matter—he’s a full-blown alebrije!

  Finally, Pepita starts to descend. Miguel peeks over her shoulder and spots a small plaza with a group of people waving at them. It’s the rest of his family! He has never felt so happy to see his relatives, and he can’t wait to be reunited with his living family in Santa Cecilia.

  As they get closer, Papá Julio jumps up and down excitedly, his head springing off and on like the ball on a paddle toy. “Look, there they are!” he says.

  Pepita lands, and the Riveras surround her, everyone talking at the same time.

  “Miguel!”

  “Miguelito!”

  “Ay, gracias!”

  “It’s Miguel! He’s all right!”

  “Oh, thank goodness!”

  Héctor dismounts first. He raises his arm to help Imelda, but she responds with a withering stare and climbs down on her own. Then Miguel gets down, all the while looking up at Dante, who’s circling above, not quite sure how to land.

  “C’mon, Dante,” Miguel says, “you can do it!”

  Dante comes in for a landing but loses his balance and skids on his rump before coming to a stop. He shakes himself off and trots over to Miguel, who hugs him again. Dante responds with a sloppy lick.

  Now that they’re on firm ground, Mamá Imelda folds Miguel into a tight hug. “M’ijo,” she says, “I was so worried! Thank goodness we found you in time!” She touches his shoulders and hands to make sure he’s all there. Then she releases him and turns her attention to Héctor, who is sheepishly holding his hat. “And you!” she scolds, pointing and angrily poking him. “Must I always clean up your messes?!”

  “Imelda—” Héctor says, but she won’t hear it.

  “Seducing him with promises of…of music and fame!”

  “Mamá Imelda—” Miguel starts, because he wants to defend Héctor, but he’s shut down, too.

  “I spent my whole life trying to protect my family from your mistakes, and he,” Mamá Imelda points at Miguel for emphasis, “spends five minutes with you and I have to fish him out of a sinkhole!”

  Miguel can’t take it anymore. Poor Héctor has been blamed his whole life for something he didn’t do. Before Mamá Imelda can say more, he steps between them.

  “It’s my fault,” Miguel says. “I wasn’t in the cenote because of Héctor. He was in there because of me. He was just trying to get me home. I didn’t wanna listen, but he was right—nothing is more important than family.”

  The Riveras nod, for this has always been their philosophy, but Mamá Imelda seems shocked to hear that Héctor believes this, too.

  Before she can comment, Tía Rosita says, “But why were you in the cenote in the first place? And why were you in Shantytown? And how did you slip away from the plaza before we saw you?”

  “We don’t have time for all these questions,” Tía Victoria says.

  Tío Oscar agrees. “That’s right. It’s time to send Miguel home, so he can get back to his family and we can get back to poking out eyes.”

  Miguel flinches, imagining a bowl of eyeballs.

  His tíos notice. “Not the eyes you see with,” Tío Oscar says.

  “Or the windows to the soul,” adds Tío Felipe.

  “Or the eye of a potato.”

  “Of a storm.”

  “Of a—”

  “Okay, okay,” Miguel laughs. “You mean eyelets for shoelaces.”

  Everyone nods as if this were the most obvious thing.

  Then Miguel turns to Mamá Imelda. “I’m ready to accept your blessing, and your conditions. But first, I need to find de la Cruz to get Héctor’s photo.”

  “What?” Mamá Imelda sounds scandalized.

  “So he can see Coco again,” Miguel explains. “Héctor should be on our ofrenda. He’s part of our family.”

  “He left his family!”

  “He tried to go home to you and Coco, but de la Cruz murdered him!”

  The Riveras gasp, and Mamá Imelda takes a step back, startled. Then she looks to Héctor as if seeking confirmation.

  “It’s true, Imelda.”

  Her face softens a bit, her eyes full of pity and regret—but then she steels herself. “So what if it’s true? That changes things? You leave me alone with a child to raise, and I’m just supposed to forgive you?”

  “Imelda, I—” Before Héctor can finish, his body shimmers, leaving him winded. Imelda gasps. “I’m running out of time,” Héctor says weakly.

  For a minute, Mamá Imelda looks at him, confused. Then she figures out what’s happening. “It’s Coco. She’s forgetting you.”

  “You don’t have to forgive him,” Miguel says, his voice urgent. “But we shouldn’t forget him.”

  Mamá Imelda sighs. Miguel can hear her sadness. “Oh, Héctor,” she says, “I wanted to forget you. I wanted Coco to forget you, too, but…”

  “This is my fault…not yours,” Héctor says. “I’m sorry, Imelda.”

  Mamá Imelda looks as torn as Miguel feels. He can only guess how difficult it must be to put so many years of bitterness aside.

  Instead of formally accepting Héctor’s apology, Mamá Imelda turns to Miguel. “If we help you get his photo…you will return home? No more music?”

  Miguel nods. “Family comes first.”

  She considers this a moment. Then she addresses Héctor. “I…I don’t forgive you. But I will help you.”

  Miguel smiles. It isn’t a true reconciliation; the wound runs deep, but at least it’s a start.

  “So how do we get to de la Cruz?” Mamá Imelda asks Miguel.

  He furrows his brow, thinking. “I might know a way.…”

  The Sunrise Spectacular is about to begin. Hundreds of skeletons have gathered in a huge coliseum, located in one of the tallest skyscrapers in the Land of the Dead. Fireworks explode above like colorful lightning, and their loud booms mix with the excited murmurs of the crowd. The attendees study the aisle and row numbers printed on their tickets and make their way up and down the stairs, looking for their seats. Soon, nearly everyone has settled in, so the stragglers have to say “perdóname” a dozen times as they trip and stumble past knees and shoulders in the crowded rows. They talk excitedly, predicting what they’ll see, which songs they’ll hear, and as they wait, they enjoy offerings from the Land of the Living, the sodas and dulces their loved ones have left behind.

  Finally, the moment they’ve been waiting
for! Symphonic music comes on, and everyone hushes to watch the show. A spotlight shines upon a giant papaya and then flits about the stage, teasing the audience, for they expect Ernesto de la Cruz at any moment. Suddenly, the papaya ignites, and the audience gasps in delight! Smoke rises, and for a moment, the round bowl of the coliseum seems like a cauldron. As the shell of the papaya burns away, dancers from within unfurl themselves. The audience oohs and aahs when the Frida Kahlo clones are revealed—short, tall, plump, skinny, male, female—they seem to be caricatures of the famous artist, and all are dancing nonsensically.

  Finally, a giant cactus is illuminated. It is Frida, the cactus mother! One by one, the dancers slink into the cactus, but eight familiar-looking dancers—the dead Riveras and Miguel—inch their way out of the spotlight and into the wings of the stage. Waiting for them is Frida Kahlo—the real Frida. The whole family is starstruck.

  “Good luck, muchacho,” Frida says, for she has helped them sneak into the coliseum.

  “Gracias, Frida!” Miguel says, and when she exits, the family waves goodbye.

  After a moment to catch their breath from the dancing and excitement of meeting a celebrity, Mamá Imelda says, “Now let’s get out of these contraptions.”

  Tío Oscar lifts his skirt, revealing Dante, who’s been hiding underneath. Miguel rips off his unibrow and cries out, “Ow!” Héctor manages to remove the entire costume in one swift move, which seems to irritate Mamá Imelda because she’s tangled in her dress and because it’s…well…it’s Héctor.

  “Here, let me help you,” he offers.

  She turns a cold shoulder. “Don’t touch me.”

  His shoulders droop. A guilty look flashes across Mamá Imelda’s face, but only for a tiny second.

  Then Papá Julio removes his pumps and slips his feet back into his western boots. “So how did I do?” he wants to know. “Did I make a convincing Frida?”

  “Very convincing,” Miguel says, “except that you’re a lot older.”

  “And shorter,” Tía Victoria adds, “less curvy, and a little too squat.”

  After they’re free of their costumes, Mamá Imelda gathers everyone in a huddle. When Héctor squeezes into the spot beside her, she shuffles over to get away from him, using her twin hermanos as a shield.

  After she reviews the plan, Miguel asks, “Everyone clear?”

  Tía Victoria says, “Find Héctor’s photo.”

  “Give it to Miguel,” Papá Julio adds.

  “Send Miguel home,” Mamá Imelda concludes.

  When Héctor asks if they have their marigolds, each of them holds up a petal. This means that whoever finds the photo can send Miguel home. They have a moment of quiet reflection and then tiptoe out, Mamá Imelda leading the way. “Now we just have to find de la Cruz,” she says, wondering how they will ever find him in the maze of corridors backstage.

  Then she turns the corner and…nearly bumps into Ernesto de la Cruz!

  “Yes?” he says.

  “Ah!” Mamá Imelda shrieks.

  The family behind her freezes in their tracks and stays hidden. She must face him alone.

  She should be afraid of him after learning about the terrible things he’s done to her family, but instead, her anger begins to swell.

  “Don’t I know you?” de la Cruz says.

  Instead of answering yes or no, Mamá Imelda grabs a huarache from her apron pocket and slaps him with all her might!

  “That’s for murdering the love of my life!” she shouts.

  De la Cruz rubs his cheek, disoriented. “What the…? Who the…?”

  Then Héctor leaps out. “She’s talking about me!” he says, then to her, “I’m the love of your life?”

  “I don’t know,” Mamá Imelda says. “I’m still angry at you.”

  “Héctor,” de la Cruz says, recovering, “how did you—”

  Before he can say more, Mamá Imelda slaps him again. “And that’s for trying to murder my grandson!”

  “Grandson?”

  Now Miguel leaps out of the corridor, and when de la Cruz sees the three of them, he puts the pieces together.

  “You!” he gasps. “Wait. You’re related to Héctor?”

  Instead of answering, Miguel points to de la Cruz’s pocket. “The photo!” he says.

  The rest of the Riveras rush out, and de la Cruz’s eyes widen when he sees them. He’s outnumbered, Mamá Imelda realizes, satisfied. Surely he’ll surrender the photo without a fight. But they aren’t that lucky. De la Cruz bolts away.

  “After him!” Mamá Imelda charges.

  They chase him through dark corridors, up stairwells, and into mess halls and equipment storage areas—circling the coliseum like horses circling a corral. When they reach an intersection of hallways, they lose him momentarily, and when they spot him again, he’s running toward the stage. They waste no time and sprint in pursuit.

  “Security!” de la Cruz cries. “Ayúdame!”

  The family floods out onto the stage, Héctor running beside Imelda. He says, “You said ‘love of your life.’”

  “I don’t know what I said!”

  “That’s what I heard,” Miguel chuckles from behind.

  She couldn’t be more embarrassed. “Can we focus on the matter at hand?”

  Before the family can reach de la Cruz, the guards respond to his call. They’re quick to engage, and a brawl ensues. But the family will not be stopped. Papá Julio knocks down a guard with a well-placed karate kick. Tío Felipe pulls Oscar’s arms off and swings them like bolas to trip a few more guards, and Oscar pounces on them, keeping them pinned down. But de la Cruz is still on the loose.

  “Places, señor, you’re on in thirty seconds!” a stagehand says.

  De la Cruz shoves him aside. While the security guards wrestle with the Riveras, Mamá Imelda sees an opening. She sprints forward and gets close enough to grab Héctor’s photo from de la Cruz’s pocket. He scuffles with her to get it back, slapping at her arms as she juggles it back and forth, and then grabbing her apron, refusing to let go. This man has no respect for women! she thinks. Luckily, she manages to hold him off, and then Miguel gets through the guards and tackles de la Cruz to the ground, making him lose his grip. Mamá Imelda tumbles backward, photo still in hand.

  “Miguel!” she calls. “I have it!”

  He turns toward her, but before he can grab the photo the guards recover and start chasing him. Then it’s too late. Miguel’s out of reach because, suddenly, Mamá Imelda is rising into the air! That’s when she realizes she’s on de la Cruz’s rising platform.

  She peeks over the edge. As the platform rises, stairs unfold along the edges, and de la Cruz is not far behind!

  “Miguel!” she calls.

  And then she spots him, still struggling with a guard. He gets smaller and smaller as the platform goes higher and higher. She’s nearly in a panic. How will she deliver the photo?

  She’s about to lose all hope when Dante flies in. After a few clumsy flybys, he manages to knock off the head of the guard holding Miguel.

  Miguel breaks free, shouting to the family, “Hurry, come on!” And while the uncles and Papá Julio block the guards, Miguel, Héctor, and his aunts run up to the platform, right behind de la Cruz.

  Meanwhile, the show must go on. Mamá Imelda hears the emcee’s voice. “Ladies and gentlemen. The one, the only…Ernesto de la Cruz!”

  Suddenly, a spotlight falls on Mamá Imelda and neon letters blast brightly behind her, spelling out ERNESTO! The audience bursts into applause!

  “Nesto!” a fan shouts, and then the audience begins to chant: “Nesto, Nesto, Nesto!”

  She doesn’t know what to do. She’s the center of attention with this bright light upon her. Music starts to play! She sees de la Cruz in the wings, flagging down a guard. “Get her off the stage!” he demands.

  The guards hustle onto the stage, scaling the platform to get to her. Meanwhile, Miguel, Héctor, Victoria, and Rosita emerge on stage left, opposite de la Cruz.
“Sing!” Miguel yells at the moment the guards scramble onto the platform. Mamá Imelda is still in a panic, but then Miguel yells again, “Sing!”

  She closes her eyes to concentrate on the music and catch the tune. Then she grasps the mic, holding it close to her mouth. The next part is very difficult, for it goes against every fiber of her being. For years, she has warned against singing, but more important than rules, shoes, and ofrendas is saving her family, especially Miguelito, who needs to go back home.

  She begins to sing, her voice quivering from nerves. She’s not sure she can pull this off, but then she hears a guitar riff, amplified through the stage speakers. It’s a familiar tune Héctor used to play.

  She takes a deep breath, determined to sing without shaking. Her voice grows stronger, richer.

  She spots a guard at the edge of the spotlight, but he stops, confused. She can tell he’s afraid to interrupt the show, so she takes advantage. She moves away, the spotlight continually on her, serving as a protective shield against the guards. She starts to descend the staircase at the edge of the platform, and then she sees him: Héctor, in the wings, playing his guitar. He smiles, and she smiles back, genuinely happy for his accompaniment.

  She continues her song. With every note, she gets more confident. Soon the audience is clapping to the beat, and the stage conductor brings in more instruments, kicking it into high gear.

  Mamá Imelda feels herself getting carried away by the music, and as much as she’d like to resist, she just can’t. This is too much fun! She doubles down, taking the spotlight with her as she continues to put distance between herself and the guards, trying to reach Miguel so she can give him the photo. One of the guards catches on and tries to block her way. Without missing a beat, Mamá Imelda grabs him and forces him to dance. He freaks out and runs away the first chance he gets. Once the coast is clear, she makes her way across the stage and is about to leave the spotlight when a hand grabs her wrist.

  The crowd goes wild! It’s Ernesto de la Cruz, and he’s harmonizing with her!