Last Light

Colorful ribbons connected the rooftops for the Dia de los Muertos celebration. Those lights you always see at bars with an outdoor patio were also strewn around. I liked that. 

I grabbed a concha from a street vendor, not because I particularly liked them—they always drained the moisture out of my mouth—but because they reminded me of grandma. Anytime she was with us as kids she always had to buy us conchas or those empanadas with pumpkin. 

I was by myself this year and had snagged a candle with a base to catch the wax. I walked around the courtyard and looked at the murals with skeletons. Some were playing instruments. And some were in ridiculous dance poses. But they were all happy. 

I wasn't unhappy or happy this year. I was as indifferent as could be. And that felt worse. I wanted to feel SOMETHING. Especially with the death of my grandma having been so recent. I was SUPPOSED to feel something looking at these scenes. The only thing catching my eye were the gorgeous Mexican girls mourning their deceased—and realizing that made me feel even worse.

I found an altar that had been set up but no one was there anymore. I felt drawn to it. It was lonely. Just one candle and one picture. It was a picture of an old woman. Probably someone's grandma. There was a half eaten sugar cookie in front of the picture. Those hard sugar cookies that leave you feeling empty. 

I stood there and noticed the woman had short gray hair. Much like my grandma. But unlike my grandma, this woman wasn't smiling. She almost looked angry. I never understood why those older pictures always looked angry. Like were people just pissed off back then?

But then something really strange happened. She shouted at me. I swear to god her mouth opened in the picture and she shouted "pendejo". It was thunderous and I felt actual wind smack my face. It snuffed out my candle.

WTF. 

I looked around and no one had noticed. 

"WHAT?" I said, frightened and braced myself for a smack. She looked ready to hit me. 

Then, without any warning, I felt nauseous. And, I promise there is no other way to say this... I was pulled into another scene. 

I was suddenly at that woman's deathbed. The room was hot but the woman could not stop shivering despite her many blankets.

I watched her loved ones gathered around her bed. They were not speaking. I had the eerie suspicion that this old woman was not loved by them. That this was a gathering of obligation. 

The nurse came in and one of the little ones said, "Is she dying".

The nurse whispered to someone who I guessed was the dying woman's daughter, "It'll be any minute now."

The old woman's face was sunken, her eyes lifeless. It looked like she wanted to scream but could not. I felt cold sweat running down the back of my neck. I was frozen in place. Unable to look away as this woman gasped her last, broken breath. 

"See what happens," I heard her desperate voice in my head. "See what happens."

I came to and I woke up with people gathered around me. 

"He's ok," someone said. 

"Yes, I'm fine," I said, face reddening with embarrassment. I was so stunned I couldn't process anyone's concerned faces. 

I looked back at the altars, and did not see the altar I had stood at. In its place was a family, gathered around a large altar with plenty of candles and goodies. Some were laughing and some were crying. 

I walked over to them and thought, "But see what happens here."