As she stood there, in the lobby, with nothing else to do, Victoria wondered why she got the hardest jobs! Finding Miguel's lost friend was easy compared to this! She had to look a pair of grandparents in the eye and...

What felt like the fifth trolley that day pulled up, and Victoria walked outside to scan it, as she had the others, for...whatever the Perez couple would look like. Think, you saw Antonio once or twice right? He was only slightly older than Elena. She'd never paid much attention to him, despite some of her friends in town doing such, until the kid went and broke many of the young girls' hearts by leaving. That was being unfair, he never once lead any of them on, or rewarded the silly school girl crushes, and they were fickle crushes anyway, all of the girls she could recall tittering about him at Fourteen, tittering about other boys too, and going on to find love in town.

Talk of Antonio had been the typical scanning the herd and looking for any crumb of attention. And yet, as she spotted his gray locks, she instantly saw the kid from before. Ah, right, that's him.

She walked forward as he helped another woman, who didn't seem that much older, though they were probably talking about seven years if she'd died even recently and Antonio when Trent was four, as he said. As the crowd of people walked over to desks to ask for help, or people waiting for them also, if any (though it was mostly desk traffic), Victoria was able to make her way over.

Oh boy, what was she going to say?

"Antonio?", she held out a hand, "I don't know if you recall me, Victoria Rivera, your grandson Trent got wrapped up with ours", she tried to explain.

"Oh, yes, of course, your own Abeula was the one that would pelt people with shoes...um...I mean", Antonio said, shaking hands with an inclination of the head, then looking discomfited.

Victoria just smiled, "Yes".

"Well I never had any talent with an instrument, so she left me alone...Uh, this is my wife, Daisy", Antonio introduced, and even in her gray hair, Victoria saw the light color that might be hereditary and also might have lent her her name, though some of her skull markings were also flowers, "Daisy, uh, well, as I said, the Riveras were in Santa Cecilia".

"Oh yes of course", Daisy shook hands next, "I...was a Texas farm girl myself, and so...like Trent don't know, he...cursed himself? Stealing from an ofrenda?".

Victoria nodded, "Yes, apparently it's stealing from the dead, we didn't know either...until last year when my own great-nephew did the same thing".

Antonio grimaced, "It's my fault, after I left...I just let the ofrenda tradition die. I...might have been half afraid of my relatives after leaving...".

"Why did you?", Victoria asked, just curious, but then caught herself, "Sorry, we have no right to talk if you know why Abeula was so...harsh". Antonio just let that last go without comment, since he felt he had no room either.

"I was going to be a rodeo star", he answered, sounding critical of that childish dream now, "no tie in with the Larsons in that until Cecilia...yeah...", he acknowledged the name, "and Phil started hanging out as childhood friends years later".

Victoria just hummed, "Well did it pan out?", she was stalling.

"I...did stop shortly after she was born, when another rider, Billy Barton,...got thrown and killed", Antonio said soberly.

"Went the next day, asked my father about his carpentry business, and that was that", Daisy said, a bit amused at how complete One-Eighty it had been, though she of course had seen even then the thought process. He could die...he could actually die...

Antonio had known this before, but, still a young kid in many ways, just a young kid with a family, it had made it into his head a bit more. "I still blame that old injury for just cropping up years later", he said, in terms of his later death.

Then Daisy Perez went and realized, not that Victoria was surprised, she'd been lucky to stall this long. "But...where is Trent?".

Victoria took in a breath and let it out, "About that...".

***

Trent frowned at the house the cart pulled up in front of, "This isn't a trolley or train station...".

"No, it's running late, we had to detour", Ernesto said quickly, hopping down, and a strong grip pulling the boy along with him.

"W-wait...", Trent went to wiggle free, unsure.

"Everything will be fine, Niño, don't worry, I sent the Riveras your note, and your grandparents will be here shortly", Ernesto reassured, heartily shoving him over the threshold and then baring the door after, with a smile to his guest, "Solicitors are so bad out here".

With no other option, Trent glanced about him at the odd house. It looked to be the type any family would have had, with three, maybe four rooms. Small. Quaint, but stuffed with...junk. Not just any junk, mostly junk pertaining to Ernesto. Posters, VHS tapes, records, bobble heads and figures. Even mugs and a dish rag maybe. The kitchen stove was clear, for a pot to sit on, and one bowl on the table, but figurines there even.

Ernesto left briefly, but so quickly that Trent couldn't have darted out the door if he'd thought of it. He was still just trying to think if he should think of it. He was then back, carrying one of the Chihuahua alebrijes. "Had to let them off the cart", he explained. More flew in at the windows.

"Afraid I've moved down in the world", Ernesto went on, motioning to the house, still holding one Chihuahua. Not that the boy would know that. "I had to grab up all of my posters and movies or they would have destroyed them, all...well again, because they believe I meant Héctor Rivera harm!". The man sunk into a chair, stroking his pet.

Trent walked up, "They...hate you because, Senor Rivera got sick?", he just tried to sort the facts. He, again, had wondered about the massive hate shown by the village graveyard and offerings. But Miguel's great-great-grandfather didn't seem like the kind of guy to misunderstand that...he'd have clung to Ernesto helping even in the face of...maybe.

Yet what did Trent know, really; on either. Ernesto sighed sadly, "Sí, he has this charm, you may have seen". Trent nodded.

Ernesto shook his head again, all his acting skills coming to play, "I wish...with all mi corazón, I could get my amigo to believe me...but it is no use", he hung his head, then glanced up, "but...you believe me? That I meant no harm? Yes?".

"I...I guess", Trent didn't commit. Ernesto had known this would take some work.

He stood, putting on a smile, "I'll get you el chocolate caliente. Tell my tale, then you'll see", he sounded bright, perhaps covering a bit of sadness with it, but not pushy, desperate for this one bid to work, like he actually was inside.

That's it Ernesto. He's your chance. Convince him you're good, send him back. Maybe...it turned so easily before, all due to one kid...

***

"W-why would he be down that alley way?", Julio asked, peering at where Pepita was trying to stick her nose. She backed out, shaking her head, and giving a snuff.

Imelda walked over to pet her, "It's alright, bebé, just try".

Héctor walked back over from asking two of the locals, sitting on a nearby porch, watching the proceedings, "Nada", he shook his head, sighing. "I don't like this".

"Because you lost him?", Oscar wasn't harsh with the question, more actually curious.

Héctor frowned at his brother-in-law, "It...kids don't just wander like this...not unless someone takes them off for a purpose", he thought back to his all but coning Miguel!

"But Trent would see through that", Miguel argued...even though he had not. He had been half coning himself though! This was different, he was sure! Trent had no purpose but to go home.

He wants to not be stuck at the Tannery...like you wanted music. Miguel reminded himself. He knew this much, but...no he wouldn't try to do something about that here; and like he said, his Tío Grant was an answer to that. He was good. He wouldn't follow some random musician or anything!

Pepita turned, preparing to go on, when a small yelp caught everyone's attention, and partly because a small alebrije peeked it's head out of the alley way Pepita had just turned from. As it got closer, Rosita suddenly recognized what it was, "A coyote!".

The coyote alebrije was orange and yellow, the colors alternating to make flame patterns on the more dominate colors behind. It wandered up, hesitant and sniffing. Coco and Rosita both bent to it and it rushed up with more confidence to pets. "Are you Trent's alebrije?", Coco asked, again, off just guessing. The thing yipped as if understanding and lifted up to lick her face, then Rosita's. Both women giggled, almost like little girls again, and pet it back, "Well you are adorable!", Rosita added. Miguel bent to join his relatives in the Greeting the Coyote team. Wild animal or not, he seemed just like a puppy! Even though he was clearly grown.

"Wouldn't the Larson's alebrije be a toro or cow?", Julio wondered, though again, they were never easy to predict, especially during life and until you saw yours or your family's after death.

Oscar suddenly got it though, "No...".

"Unless it wanted to always be coming back", Felipe added.

"After being killed"

"And a coyote"

"Could easily spy from fields and such"

"Even now, if it was an actual farm"

"Santa Cecilia might have been harder, but...", Oscar glanced to Pepita, who just gave a low rumble. If she helped it like she helped Dante, it would be no problem. And the Larsons did have a farm.

Ofrendas had nothing to do with whether or not you got an alebrije. Everyone did. Pepita walked up to the coyote and gave another low growl of seeming communication. The coyote yipped and took off.

"He's gonna get the Perez'?", Héctor guessed.

"And Dante stayed back in case he came there!", Miguel got the rest of the plan.

Imelda sighed, wondering if they should follow instead of just waiting here, but glanced to her spirit guide and Pepita just watched where the coyote had gone calmly. "I'm not entirely sure I approve your plan", she said. Pepita turned and nudged her before getting a smile out of her person. "Alright...alright...", Imelda knew Pepita was as nervous as she to get the boys home quickly as possible. Being tied to her specifically, their emotions were the same.