Día de los Amorosos

Fingers lace together, head bows in silent prayer. The scent of marigolds illuminates treasured memories that transport her back to a time when love blossomed on Día de los Muertos.

“Maria…Maria!” Her mother called from the kitchen. Maria Flores was lost in thought again, a common occurrence. “Mija, you’re going to knead that dough to death. We’ll have to build a separate ofrenda.” Mrs. Flores giggled.

“What?” Wide eyes trailed down to her work. Her mother was right, the dough was quickly losing its air bubbles. She jerked her hands back. “Sorry!” she yelped.

“No worries, mija. Let’s get the pan de muertos baking.” Mrs. Flores placed Maria’s lump onto the pan with the others and quickly popped them into the oven then dusted the flour from her hands. “What should we do next? Oh, could you please go to the shop and buy some fresh marigolds for Papa’s grave?”

“Sure!” Maria answered. She reached for her bag and pulled it up onto her shoulder. “I’ll be back soon.”

Maria walked through the streets of Janitzio. Stall after stall was packed with traditional decorations, foods, and toys for Día de los Muertos. She loved this time of the year. The late autumn weather was invigorating, and the sights and sounds lit up the world around her. “That will be 400 pesos,” the florist said as he handed Maria a fresh bouquet of marigolds. “Gracias, señor.”

Her task completed, she took a detour through the cemetery before heading back home. Several families were spread throughout the cemetery, cleaning headstones and preparing their offerings for their loved ones’ visits from the Spirit World. “Those are beautiful marigolds.” Maria jumped at the voice that floated from behind her. She quickly turned to meet the kindest pair of green eyes she had ever seen; their color complimented by tanned skin. The young man’s dark hair was disheveled from the breeze that swept across Lake Pátzcuaro. He grinned, “Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“N-no I wasn’t frightened, you just surprised me.” She waved her hand in defense.

He chuckled, running his fingers through his messy locks. He extended his hand. “Let’s start over. Hi, my name is Diego. What’s yours?”

She raised her eyebrow, a bit taken aback by his forwardness. “Maria...” She said as she cautiously shook his hand.

“That’s a pretty name.” He gazed into her chocolate brown eyes. Maria felt her heart thump. “Thank you. I was named after my abuela on my father’s side.” A shadow clouded Diego’s bright emeralds, her chest clenched. “Have I said something wrong?”

He quickly shook his head. “No, not at all. I just got lost in thought there for a minute.”

Maria giggled, “I do that all the time.” A comfortable silence fell between the pair as they smiled at one another.

“So…” Diego started. “As I was saying before, those are beautiful marigolds. You know, legend says that their bright petals and scent guide souls back to their loved ones. Are they for someone?”

Maria looked at the bouquet in her hand. “Yes, for my Papa’s grave.”

Diego averted his eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that he passed.”

“No! It’s okay really. He’s in a better place now.” Her gaze fixed on a point somewhere far beyond the horizon. “He was sick for a long time…I’m just glad that he’s not suffering anymore.”

Diego sighed.

“Something the matter?” Maria cocked her head.

“Just thinking.” He walked to a nearby bench and sat, motioning for her to join him. He stretched and put his arms behind his head, looking out over the lake. “I’m a bit envious of you Maria.”

“Why?”

“I never had parents. I’m an orphan.”

“I’m so sorry Diego. This time of year must be hard for you-” She snapped her mouth shut before speaking again. “That was rude of me. I’m sorry.”

He cut his eyes in her direction and smirked. “You apologize a lot, you know that?”

“I’m so-” Her cheeks turned crimson as she began to apologize again. Diego snickered. “I like you, Maria.” She didn’t think her cheeks could get any warmer. Her heart beat uncontrollably in her chest. Letting her off the hook, Diego stood. He offered his hand, “C-mon, you probably need to get ready for tonight, right? Celebrate with your family?”

Pulled from her panic, Maria took Diego’s hand. It was slightly calloused, weathered from a hard life. She felt sympathy for the boy, who too early, had his childhood snatched away. She could only squeak out a sound of gratitude. He responded with a friendly squeeze of her hand, sending pleasant jolts of electricity through her nerves and lighting her face on fire once more. She cleared her throat to regain her composure. “Um…Diego?”

“Mhm?”

She looked to their entwined fingers, “You-you’re still holding my hand.”

He looked at her with an impish glint in his eyes. “What, you don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that.” She blushed furiously, but allowed him to lead her out of the cemetery.

“Which direction is your house?” He pointed when they reached a fork.

“That way.” She motioned to the right.

“Can you get back on your own from here?”

“I believe I can manage.” She inhaled deeply before asking her next question. “Diego, would you like to celebrate Día de los Muertos with my family?” She gazed up at him expectantly.

“Here’s the thing…” He scratched his neck. Maria interrupted him before he had a chance to answer. “I’m sorry, that was very forward of me. Maybe I’ll see you later this evening for the festivities, yeah? Alright bye!” She turned and waved over her shoulder leaving Diego in a stunned silence. He brought a hand to rest on his hip and shook his head. He let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “Good job Diego.”

That night, Maria and her family visited her father’s grave. The cemetery was brilliantly lit with candles of every shape and size, the light reflected in the tranquil waters of the lake nearby. The youth of the town dressed in traditional costumes; their faces painted to match the sugar skulls that dotted the grave sites. Maria laid out a picnic blanket and they ate tamales and the pan de muerto she and her mother made while sharing stories about her father.

Maria tuned out the chatter from her cousins as she carefully scanned the area. Her stomach fluttered nervously and her eyes ached from straining to pinpoint Diego amongst the crowd. “I’ll be right back,” she said to no one in particular as she stood up and smoothed her skirt across her hips.

She wound her way through the myriad of families toward a quiet place where she could let her mind wander. Sitting on the cool grass behind a mausoleum in the corner of the cemetery, she plucked a marigold from the ornament in her hair and began pulling off the petals. A childish game she knew, but her heart settled as she said, “He loves me, he loves me not.”

“Whatcha doin’?” A friendly voice piped up from behind her.

“Diego!” Maria immediately hid the flower behind her back. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!” She glared at him. “It’s not polite to sneak up on people.”

“True, but it’s definitely more fun. You can find out all sorts of secrets,” he teased then plopped down beside her. “Why are you here all by yourself? I thought you were celebrating with your family.” He lightly tugged her hand, bringing it out from behind her back. Maria blushed, embarrassed from the scenario she was dreaming up in her mind. She looked away from his intent gaze. “I just needed to get away for a minute. My family can be rather…loud.” She said the last word slowly, afraid she might hurt Diego’s feelings if she continued to talk about them.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he held Maria’s hand gently in his own. He curled his fingers around hers, rubbing his thumb over her dainty knuckles. “Yeah, but I’m sure you still love them, right?” His voice softened.

“I do…it’s just. I don’t want you to feel like I’m rubbing them in your face.”

He gasped and his eyes widened as he dropped Maria’s hand. Too suddenly he was cupping her cheeks, emerald green searched chocolate diamonds. Her heart hammered against her rib cage at his touch. “Don’t ever think that. Don’t ever take your family for granted or think you have to hide them, especially from me.” He released his hold on her and turned away. “You’ll never understand how precious life is until it’s taken from you.”

Maria didn’t understand why, but a tear stung her eye. She quickly wiped it away before Diego turned to face her again. “Come with me. There’s something I want to show you.” He stood and yanked Maria from the ground pulling her close. A tingle ran down her spine and anticipation flooded her veins.

Diego led her to the darkened edge of the cemetery; no candles, no offerings, no pictures, only a small wooden cross stood as a marker of the person buried below. “Who’s grave is this?” She looked up at him. He gripped her hand tightly.

“Diego?”

He lowered his eyes and whispered, “Mine.”

She scoffed. “Stop teasing me. Seriously, who does it belong to?” Diego remained silent. “Y-you’re not joking?” She stumbled backward, tripping over a small rock.

“Maria! Are you alright?”

She raised her arm, shielding herself from the apparition that was kneeling down to help her. He recoiled and put his hands in his pockets, a hurt look marred his boyish features. “How? I mean, how are you here? Why can I see you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re the first person who has ever been able to.”

Maria slowly lifted from the ground, bringing herself to her knees. “I have so many questions. How long have you been-”

“Dead?” Diego responded flatly. Maria bit her lip and nodded. He looked up at the inky sky. “Hard to say. Time is irrelevant when you’re a ghost…” He dusted off the small cross.

“How old are you?”

“How old are you?” Diego returned her question.

“Sixteen.”

“Yeah, that seems about right.” He knelt down beside her, taking her hand in his again. “Maria, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Maria held her breath as Diego gathered his thoughts.

“Do you believe in destiny?” His gaze pleaded with hers.

She stifled a laugh, releasing a strained sound from her throat as she lowered her eyes. Sure she fantasized quite a bit in her spare time, but really...fate? It seemed like the stuff of fairy tales. However, here she was, in the real world, holding hands with a lost spirit; someone only she could see, hear, and feel. Diego patiently waited for her response, but his grip tightened with nervous tension. Her eyes wandered back to his. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

He brightened and hugged her tightly to his chest. Maria was shocked by how warm he felt. “I’ve been alone for so long.” He mumbled into her ebony hair. He breathed deeply, imprinting her scent then he pushed her away slightly, holding her at arm's length. “Will you promise me something?” She silently nodded, her heart once again picking up speed. “Promise me you’ll remember me, and each year on Día de los Muertos you’ll bring marigolds to my grave so you can call me back to you.” The sun peaked just above the horizon as Maria and Diego sealed their promise with a chaste kiss.

Maria touches her lips at the memory. The soft glow of the candles illuminates a smile stretching across her face. Warmth spreads through her chest as a familiar hand touches her shoulder, she turns once more to gaze into kind emerald eyes.