Cemetery Boys(94)

One by one, he placed each calavera atop a headstone. His mother’s parents had a matching set of understated worn stone. Lito’s was a huge slab of jade carved with intricate Maya glyphs, befitting of a passed brujx leader.

Yadriel’s mother’s tombstone was made of polished white marble. Sinking down into a crouch, Yadriel placed her calavera, careful to make sure it was straight and wouldn’t slip off the slick stone.

He ran his fingers along her name carved into the front in gold lettering.

CAMILA FLORES DE VéLEZ.

Her picture smiled up at him from the ofrenda, illuminated by the soft glow of white candles.

In less than an hour, he would be able to see her again. They would be a complete family again, if just for a couple of days. She would talk to his dad, and she would see all that he had accomplished. Tomorrow night, Yadriel would be part of the aquelarre, and his whole family, and all the brujx, would see. Finally, he would be a brujo.

He should’ve been excited. He should’ve been thrilled. He had been fighting for this moment for years.

But there was a growing ache in the pit of his stomach. An anticipation of impending mourning was looming over him.

Tonight, he would get so much back, but he was also going to lose Julian.

He needed to get back to him, while there was still time.

The bustle of the celebrations began to fade as he ran deeper into the cemetery. The old church loomed before Yadriel. A soft glow from inside the church flickered through the dusty glass windows. As Yadriel stepped through the small gate, a strange, tingling sensation went from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

Maritza sat on the steps, her white skirts splayed out around her.

She stood when he approached. “Is it time?” she asked as Yadriel came to a stop in front of her.

He gave her a jerky nod, unwilling to tear his eyes away from the wooden doors. Yadriel’s fingers trembled, so he clenched his hands into fists and pinned his elbows tight to his sides.

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, and neither did he.

Then Maritza stepped to the side. “Go on.” She gave his side a soft push and said in a gentle voice, “I’ll stand guard.”

Yadriel forced himself to walk up the steps, breath shaky as he struggled to fill his lungs.

When he pushed the door open, his breath hitched in his throat.

Dozens of candles lined the windows and stone walls. From tea lights to thick pillar candles, they adorned sconces and sat on the floor, lining the pews.

Yadriel reached for Julian’s necklace around his neck. He squeezed the St. Jude medal in his hand. It was warm in his sweaty palm. Yadriel’s heavy feet carried him down the aisle, past the steadily burning flames. Tall gold stands, stocky prayer candles, and ornate candelabras crowded the main altar, creating a sea of gently swaying light.

Julian stood before them at the foot of the altar, his back to Yadriel. His chin was tilted up to where Lady Death stood in her black mantle.

Every sluggish heartbeat pulsed painfully through Yadriel veins.

Hearing his approach, Julian looked back over his shoulder. When he saw Yadriel, he turned and smiled.

Julian stood with his hands tucked into his pockets, his head tipped to the side. The flames of hundreds of candles shone through his blurry edges, like he was putting off his own light.

“I was starting to think you’d stood me up,” Julian said. He squinted at Yadriel, a playful grin tugging the corners of his lips. The warm glow caught in his dimples. “Which one of us is Cinderella in this scenario?”

Yadriel’s mouth was dry, making it hard to speak. “I’m the fairy godmother,” he managed to croak out. “I think that makes you the pumpkin.”

Julian’s melodic laughter echoed through the church and danced through the gaping hole in Yadriel’s chest.

“So…” Julian’s gaze shifted to Lady Death.

She waited for them at the altar.

When Julian looked back, that crease between his thick eyebrows was back. “What’s next?”

Yadriel wanted to give Julian some kind of comfort, but he didn’t know what to say. He was having a hard time reining in the flood of emotions tearing through him. His heart thudded dully in his pulse. “Give me a minute to set up.”

Gingerly, he dusted the cobwebs off Lady Death’s faded black mantle and plucked a couple of dead moths from the golden embroidery. He swept his fingers over the delicate feathers of her headdress, letting their colors show their true vibrance.

His backpack sat on the nearest pew. Yadriel took out Julian’s favorite snacks they had bought earlier. He set the desserts, Takis, and smelly duros at Lady Death’s feet, along with a pan de muerto. He could feel Julian hovering behind him as he worked. He pulled out a St. Jude prayer candle he’d snuck into his basket at the store when Julian wasn’t paying attention. When he lit it, the flame trembled. A tiny bottle of mezcal and container of salt joined the snacks.

Yadriel pulled out the picture of Julian and his brother held under their father’s arms. Carefully, he propped it up in the center. The marigolds he’d grabbed were a little rumpled and wilted, but he popped the flowers off their long stems and made a small ring around the makeshift altar with the petals.

Lastly, he pulled out a calavera decorated with swirls of neon green, yellow, and blue. Piped orange flowers bloomed from its eyes. Julian was scrawled in lopsided letters across its forehead with magenta icing.