A Corpse for Cuamantla (21 page)

Chapter
53

B
ack at the hotel, María unlocked the door and Juan followed the women inside. "I'm not staying Maestras, only retrieving the room key I believe Miguel left on your nightstand," he said. "Let me know when you're ready to leave for the funeral, and if neither of you mind, I'll use the bathroom first. I'll knock when I'm done." Turning to María, he added, "please let me know if you need me or if I can help with something."

María nodded. "I will, Juan. Give us some time to dress. When we're finished, I'll rap on the door."

"Gracias
."
Juan stepped into the bathroom and turned to wink at María before closing the door."

"All that Sangria is getting to me," Anna said. "I hope he doesn't take too long in there."

"I don't think I can go through with this." María sank onto the bed and covered her head with a pillow. A wave of grief swept over her and she curled into a ball. "I can't cry, I just can't, and I won't."

Anna went over to the bed and sat beside her. "María, you don't have to attend the funeral. There are no expectations. You should do whatever you feel is best for you."

"The expectations are my own, Anna. I have to go and I have to keep from crying, even now. Why is grief so physically painful? These waves of sadness make my whole body ache. Then they go away for a while and I feel fine. I need another pill," she said, confirming Anna's suspicion about medication and María's mood swings.

"Can I get anything for you?" Anna asked, wishing she could help in some way.

"Yes, my purse, thank you. I have a bottle of tranquilizers in there. They help. The one I took before lunch seems to have worn off. There's some bottled water in my purse as well."

A knock on the door from Juan signaled the bathroom was free. Anna deferred to María, even though she felt her bladder would give out soon.

"No, Anna, you go ahead. I can wait. I need to take my medicine and lie down for a few minutes."

By three forty-five, the trio was dressed for the funeral and sitting around the hotel room looking glum. Anna got up to stretch her legs and stood at the window watching the church. She noticed an empty park bench directly across from the main entrance, nearly hidden among the zócalo vegetation.

"Would you two mind if I left for a short walk, or in my case, a hobble, around the zócalo before the funeral? I can meet you at that park bench across from the church."

"Are you sure you want to go out alone, Maestra?" María asked.

"I really won't be alone. You can see the whole zócalo from this window, so you can check on me whenever you want. It's all very public. I'll be fine."

"Not a problem, Maestra," Juan said. "We can meet you in half an hour. How's that?"

"Great. I'll see you then." Anna grabbed her backpack and left the two alone, happy to extricate herself from third wheel status. She would worry about María's reaction later, if, in fact, María resented her hasty exit. Somehow, she believed it wouldn't be a problem.

Part IV. The Second Death

Chapter
54

A
t the home of Pedro's parents, Father Diaz announced the time had come to honor Pedro with a reading of the Rosary. Pedro's father slipped over and whispered that he would talk with Miguel later. Miguel nodded his agreement and moved into the front room followed by Yolanda who positioned herself next to him.

The priest began by intoning the First of the Five Sorrowful Mysteries in a low droning monotone, causing Miguel's mind to wander. This boyfriend of Yolanda's was an interesting revelation. Miguel wondered why Yolanda created such a scene at Cuamantla, why she traveled to Cuamantla at all? He wanted to discuss the matter with Anna, see what she thought about this new information. She'd be surprised and interested to learn about the boyfriend and about the tense relationship between Yolanda and her father-in-law.

Pedro's mother, on the other hand, seemed quite attached to Yolanda, probably due to the boy. He wondered what else Señor García knew about Yolanda and whether Yolanda knew or even cared. This whole episode felt like a nightmare. He would try to use his association with the funeral to gather as much information as possible, maybe spend a little more time with Yolanda and see if she opened up to him about the boyfriend, or anything else, like the real purpose of her visit to Cuamantla.

"One condemned to death by crucifixion is forced to carry the cross to the place of execution. . . ," the priest's voice lifted slightly at the beginning of the Fourth Mystery, ending Miguel's reveries and returning his thoughts to the present. He should make an effort for Pedro's parent's sake to seem more involved, although he certainly had no plans to return to Zocatlo for the
Novenario
, the nine days of prayer and Rosary recitations following the funeral. Maybe he would show up for the last day and the dinner since it would include large helpings of posole, his favorite soup. Yes, that might motivate him, although he wouldn't admit it to anyone, particularly not the idealistic gringa currently consuming his thoughts and emotions.

". . . have mercy on us and on the whole world. Amen," the Priest concluded.

"Amen," the mourners replied.

Yes, have mercy on us
, Miguel thought, glad the reading was over.

Satisfied at having lulled the crowd into servility if not sleep, the Priest faced his tasks with renewed vigor.

"Pallbearers," he called out in an authoritative tone, "and just the pallbearers, please. Assemble here for instruction as we prepare to move the coffin to the church."

Miguel watched seven men join him in gathering around the priest. Their ages ranged from late twenties to over seventy. He wondered if Yolanda's boyfriend was among them, but a glance at Yolanda suggested otherwise. As she moved among the crowd greeting mourners and accepting their condolences, a good looking man somewhat younger than Pedro followed nearby, never taking his eyes off Yolanda.
I don't recall having seen him before
, Miguel thought to himself, now anxious to check the video and see whether Anna captured Yolanda's mystery man at the Cuamantla fiesta.

Father Diaz lowered the lid of the coffin and positioned the pallbearers, placing each person's hand on one of the handles and whispering instructions in his most somber tone.

"This coffin is heavy, you will need to lift very carefully. Let me know when you are ready and I‘ll count to three. Whatever happens, don't let go of the handle with your other hand. Remember, the dignity of Pedro's funeral is in your hands. Ready? One, two, three, lift."

The Priest wasn't exaggerating about the weight of the coffin. "This thing must be lined in lead," one of the pallbearers complained as they struggled to squeeze through the front door of the house. Hoisting the coffin onto the truck was an easier matter and the men breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"
Muy bien
," the oldest pallbearer sighed, glad they were riding instead of balancing a coffin on the back of a burro cart or worse, walking it to the Church. Once the doors slammed shut, the driver honked the horn and a line of vehicles, gray pickup in the lead, began the slow crawl down the narrow streets toward the Virgin de Guadalupe y Todos Los Santos
Catholic Church whose ornate architecture dominated the placid zócalo of the village of San Juan Zocatlo.

Miguel sat with his head bowed and eyes closed for most of the ride. His fellow pallbearers assumed he was praying for the soul of his departed friend. They would have been surprised to learn his thoughts were consumed instead with his future and his feelings for the uniquely impassioned woman who arrived in his life unexpected and unplanned. Miguel checked his watch. Two fifty-five. They were scheduled to deliver the casket at the church by four.

Looks like we might actually arrive early
, he thought.
The priest must have a dinner date.

Chapter
55

S
tepping out of the dark hotel onto the sunlit streets lifted Anna's spirits. One of the agreeable aspects of living in Mexico for Anna was freedom from Seasonal Affective Disorder, thanks to Mexico's clear blue skies and abundance of sunlight. Even the rainy season brought sunshine nearly every day. Now that her slightly sprained ankle restricted her jogging routine, she would need another excuse for connecting with the sun on a daily basis.

Babying her ankle, Anna strolled through the zócalo's gardens keeping an eye on the church. If anything interesting happened, she could be there in two or three minutes. Her mother would love the plants and trees in Zocatlo's main square, many of which bore tags with genus and species name, place of origin and other interesting facts. A pang of homesickness crept over her and she turned her attention to the flowers in the park's collection, dozens of agaves, purple sages and Mexican salvia.

She crossed the center of the zócalo near the bandstand amid a rowdy group of people laughing and shouting to one another. As a young woman passed by Anna, she carelessly bumped into her nearly knocking her to the ground. One of the older women in the group immediately stopped and helped Anna regain her balance, apologizing for her companion's rude behavior. Anna brushed herself off assuring the woman she was fine. Others in the group stopped to offer a helping hand surrounding her with apologies. Anna reassured everyone and they left, quickly disappearing into the sidewalk crowds.

Slightly shaken from the encounter, Anna tested her ankle, which seemed to be no worse. Nevertheless, she decided to give it a rest. By the time she reached the bench at the end of the path, she'd nearly forgotten about Pedro's funeral. The vacant seat served as a glum reminder. She sat down, shifting her body for the best view of the church. The clock tower at the corner of the zócalo told her she had ten minutes before Juan and María arrived to join her. Small groups of mourners drifted through the entrance to the Church, but no sign of Yolanda and friend.

Anna lifted her pack onto her lap and noticed for the first time the long open slit running up the side of the canvas bag. Inside, she found her wallet and DVD missing. With some dismay she realized the helpful group had staged a clever robbery and she was the star victim. A sinking feeling hit the pit of her stomach, and she wondered whether the group had been hired by Pedro's killer to steal her DVD. A chill ran through her. She glanced around beginning to worry about sitting alone across the street from the site of Pedro's funeral, knowing his killer could be lurking nearby. She readjusted her position to see down the length of the path trying to maintain her composure and stay vigilant until her friends arrived. If a stranger approached she could run across the street to the safety of the Church.

Her thoughts turned to the missing wallet, which contained less than ten dollars in pesos. On the advice of her next-door neighbor whose travel suggestions included removing everything from her wallet except a few pesos, she followed the custom of Mexican women and carried most of her money in a small pouch inside her bra. She patted her shirtfront just to be sure it was still there. Marianna had sewn the tiny bag for her, which tied around the shoulder strap and tucked inside. Thanks to Marianna's warnings, Anna's driver's license and credit cards remained safely stashed under the bed in Belén. Still, she'd lost ten dollars in addition to the cheap wallet. Too bad Miguel insisted on paying for lunch or the thieves' profits might have been even less.

Irked at her own carelessness, especially since she ignored Marianna's third warning to carry her pack in front where she could watch it rather than slung on her back, she grimaced at the thought of having invited the theft. Fortunately, the original DVD lay securely in the hands of Commander Cortez. Maybe the mugging had nothing to do with Pedro's murder, she reasoned, despite the thieves having stolen her DVD. Pickpocketing incidences were not uncommon.

The din of honking horns caught Anna's attention. She looked up to see a gray pickup adorned with flowers advancing on the church. A long line of cars followed behind the truck, accompanied by a straggling group of pedestrians carrying flowers and running to keep up with the slow-moving vehicle. Traffic in the opposite direction stopped as Pedro's funeral procession passed by.

Within minutes the truck pulled up in front of the Church directly across the street from Anna. She spotted Miguel immediately. He was a stone's throw away, but the emotional distance might have spanned continents. Her heart wanted to cross the street and join the crowd just to be near him as Miguel and his companions clambered down from the truck. Last to touch the ground, Miguel reached up for the casket. Anna watched him instruct the others on how to handle the coffin. Miguel the Director, always the Director. He was complicating her life. Art wouldn't approve.

Pedro's pallbearers maneuvered his casket up the cobblestone sidewalk and into the abbey. The crowd followed the coffin, strewing flowers onto the walk with the disturbing consequence of distracting the advancing pallbearers, one of whom tripped and nearly toppled the casket. Anna wondered about Pedro and his enigmatic nature, curious about how a man could command such devotion on the one hand and stir such hatred on the other. Who was this teacher who drew so many mourners to his funeral? Were they coming to honor Pedro, or his family? Or were funerals simply a different kind of fiesta?

The procession neared the Church entrance drawing Anna's attention to the last pallbearer on the left now disappearing through the arched stone doorway into the darkness beyond. The same momentary emptiness welled up in her again. Why did she find the sight of Miguel walking away so disturbing?

"There you are, Maestra. We found you."

Juan's voice echoed from behind the bench and she turned to see him strolling contentedly along the gravel path, María at his side. The pair followed the same winding walkway to the bench, minus the misadventure of a mugging. She decided to wait until later to break the news of the robbery.

"I've been watching the funeral procession," Anna said. "The pallbearers have taken the casket inside. I guess it's time for us to go in as well."