The Day of the Dead

Ms. Marlowe sat at her desk, her fingers tapping lightly on the surface as she reviewed her Journal of Curiosities. She seemed deep in thought about the situation between Ben and his family. She had come up with a plan.

She didn't like it. She was being a tad deceitful. Yet couldn't think of any other way to help the family. The father had shown very little interest in engaging with her. The mother was passive to say the least but there was a chance with her. She was the key to getting Ben out of that house. Away from the violence.

Yet, Ben had expressed his frustration not just with his father, but with his mother’s complacency. He resented her more for her inability to change her situation, for her acceptance of a life defined by her partner’s dark moods and her own resignation to fate.

Ben had shown her a photo of his mother, when young, who looked like a typical young Australian back packer lapping up every experience beyond. She was embracing her pen pal Isabella Mendoza while visiting The Day of the Dead celebrations in 2008. This photo gave him hope that this vibrant young woman was still inside and needed rescuing from her current self. This was a woman who wouldn't accept her lot. That was the mother needed to save her son.

The silence was broken when most of her misfits ventured into the room. They were gossiping and jeering each other, looking forward to their next trip. They still couldn’t get over meeting the real James Bond.

*Catch up on this adventure in the blog post - Meeting Ian Fleming.

The room was abuzz with anticipation for the upcoming trip, but today’s atmosphere was particularly charged with excitement due to Ben’s arrival. Dressed in an elaborate Day of the Dead costume, complete with vividly painted skull makeup, he was the center of attention.

Jake leaned back in his chair, a smile lighting up his face as he took in Ben’s ensemble. “Mardi Gras wants their costumer back!” Ben poked out his tongue childishly. The kid was definitely not his usual type, but Jake just couldn't stop the flutters. They were getting stronger, "I'll bite that tongue off if you're not careful."

Instantly, Jake turned bright red after considering the implication. Getting any closer to his mouth would be too enticing. This usually assured young man was acting so out of order. Ben titled his head to one side curiously studying his friend for a moment until Emma spoke up.

She shivered slightly. “Ducks! Honestly, I am a little creeped out participating in something a little gawdy. Death is supposed to be solemn and respectful not a party.”

Lily, meanwhile, was admiring Ben’s face paint with genuine awe. “I think it’s incredible! The artistry of the Day of the Dead makeup is just so beautiful. It’s like wearing a piece of art.”

Ben grinned, appreciating the mixed reactions. The elaborate costume and makeup were his way of escaping the stresses at home, where his mother remained trapped in an unhealthy relationship with his father.

Sam leaned back in his chair, casting a thoughtful glance toward Ben's vibrant Day of the Dead costume. “You know,” he began, “Honouring the dead is deeply embedded in my spiritual practices.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “In Aboriginal culture, ceremonies often involve storytelling, music, and dance to celebrate the lives of the deceased. They serve to connect the living with their ancestors, preserving cultural heritage, ensuring that the teachings and stories of the past continue to influence the present.” Sam’s expression grew more reflective. “Much like the Day of the Dead, these practices are not just about mourning but celebrating the contributions and legacy of those who came before us.”

Ms. Marlowe, sensing the growing excitement, stepped into the conversation with a warm smile. “It seems like everyone’s getting into the spirit of the trip. Remember, our goal is to experience the cultural significance of the Day of the Dead.”

Ms. Marlowe knew this trip to Mexico, with its rich cultural backdrop, would be more than just a historical exploration. She had timed it so the boy could get to see, in reality, the person in the photo, his mother. She was worried that Ben would see this trip as interfering but was willing to risk it.

Ms. Marlowe and her Time Sleuths stepped from the portal standing amidst the lively festivities of Día de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead, in Oaxaca, Mexico, in the year 2008. She just hadn't mentioned the year, and her student as always, did not ask.

The air was electric with the scents of marigold flowers, incense, and the tantalizing aroma of traditional Mexican food. The streets were awash with vibrant papel picado, delicate cut-paper banners fluttering in the breeze. Altars adorned with candles, photographs, and mementos of the departed lined the sidewalks, each a testament to the rich traditions of the celebration. Music from mariachis and local bands filled the air, mingling with the laughter and chatter of people in elaborate, colourful costumes.

As he wandered through the bustling street, Ben’s eyes caught sight of a young woman with a radiant smile, adorned in a floral dress that danced with the rhythm of the music. Her mood was carefree, her laughter infectious, and her presence seemingly untouched by the weight of responsibility.

He reached for the photo in his pocket, taking it out. His heart raced with recognition. This was his mother—young, vibrant, and full of life, looking like a completely different person from the weary figure he knew. He felt a pang of nostalgia and sorrow, seeing her in this unburdened state. But she moved through the crowd, chatting animatedly with locals, her attention focused entirely on her surroundings.

Jake sidled up to him. He wanted to test the waters. See what Ben was into. He really didn't talk about his attractions, “Hey, Benny, she’s pretty cute.”

Ben thumped him, “That’s my mother!”

Jake instantly his face toward him, “Are you okay!” Ben glanced over at Ms. Marlowe who looked on calm and contented. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“This is for me! This whole trip!” He glanced over at the teacher with resentment. “I don’t like being manipulated.”

“Hey! There are no expectations! You don’t have to do anything but watch and learn.”

He glanced over at his mother, “She looks so…different. So alive.”

“We forget that they didn’t arrive worn out and ancient. They were like us once.”

"Maria!" Isabella exclaimed, her eyes shining with delight. She had a warm, inviting presence, with long, dark hair and an infectious smile. “This is going to be one fortunate night. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Maria took out her cheap disposable camera. and they took a picture together, the same one that Ben now held in his hands.

"Isabella! You are such a corruptible influence" Maria replied, embracing her friend tightly. Her laughter was light and free, a stark contrast to the subdued and weary woman Ben knew back home. ‘And I love you for it.”

“I have something special planned for us. I’ve organized a seance at the cemetery tonight. I thought it would be a meaningful way to connect with our loved ones."

Maria's eyes widened with curiosity. "A seance? I’ve never done anything like that before."

"Well, you are on your trip of self-discovery," Isabella grinned. "It’s a chance to feel close to those we've lost. The cemetery is beautifully decorated with candles and marigolds. It’s really a sight to behold."

Maria squeezed her friend’s hand. "I can’t wait. Being with you means a lot to me."

As Ben watched his mother and Isabella share this moment, he felt a pang of bittersweet emotion. Seeing his mother like this—so alive and full of joy—was both heartwarming and painful. He knew that the carefree woman in front of him would eventually become the worn-down mother he knew.

Isabella turned to Maria with a playful twinkle in her eye. "And maybe, during the seance, we can ask the spirits to tell us about your future adventures. Who knows what surprises are in store for you, Maria."

Maria laughed, the sound echoing through the vibrant streets. "I’d like that. I've been adrift since Henry, and I broke up. Maybe they'll have some good news for my future."

Ms. Marlowe, sensing Ben's internal struggle, gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Benjamin, I'm sorry for bringing you here without asking, but I thought this might be important for you. Look at her—this is the mother you never knew. Vibrant, joyful, full of life. You deserve to see this side of her." Ben's eyes were locked on his mother, Maria, as she laughed with Isabella. Ms. Marlowe continued; her voice soft but firm. "Why don't we follow them? Learn more about who she was before life changed her."

With a reluctant nod, Ben agreed, "Can I talk to her?"

"It's best not to draw attention." Ms. Marlowe mused. "Mothers have an uncanny intuition."

The Time Sleuths trailed behind Maria and Isabella as they made their way through the bustling streets towards the cemetery.

The mood shifted as they approached the gates. The once vibrant and bustling city gave way to a sombre, sacred atmosphere. The cemetery was bathed in the soft glow of countless candles, their flames flickering in the gentle breeze. Marigold petals, bright and fragrant, were strewn across the paths, creating a golden carpet that led them deeper into the heart of the burial ground.

Maria and Isabella, unaware of their followers, walked arm in arm, their voices hushed with reverence. The air was thick with the scent of incense, mingling with the earthy aroma of freshly turned soil. The tombstones, adorned with intricate decorations and photographs, stood as silent sentinels, each telling a story of a life once lived.

As they reached the center of the cemetery, a large altar came into view. It was a breathtaking sight—covered in a rich tapestry of flowers, candles, and offerings of food and drink. In the middle of the altar was a small, ornately carved box.

Isabella placed her hands on it reverently. "This is a sacred box," she whispered to Maria. "Inside is an amulet that has been passed down through my family since the 16th century." She opened the box to reveal a gawdy amulet with a luminous stone, in the centre, not unlike Ms. Marlowe's medallion. "It is said to have the power to connect us with the spirits."

Maria's eyes widened with awe. "It's beautiful, Isabella. I can't believe I am experiencing this with you."

The class found a hidden spot nearby, close enough to watch but far enough to remain unseen. Ms. Marlowe whispered to her students, "Stay close and quiet. This is a moment of great significance for them. We must respect it."

The night deepened, and the sounds of the city faded away, leaving only the soft murmurs of the living and the whispers of the dead. Ben watched as his mother, free from the burdens of her future, embraced the magic and mystery of the Day of the Dead.

As Maria and Isabella prepared for the seance, a group of figures emerged from the shadows, joining them in the circle around the ornate altar. The new arrivals, dressed in traditional Day of the Dead attire, wore painted skull faces that gleamed eerily in the candlelight. Each carried a small offering, adding it reverently to the growing collection at the altar's base.

Seizing the opportunity, Ms. Marlowe gestured for her students to join the circle as well. Ben, his heart pounding, slipped into the group, trying to mask his nerves.

Isabella glanced up and caught Ben's eye. She smiled, a knowing twinkle in her gaze, but said nothing to Maria. Her serene expression remained unchanged, but there was a hint of recognition that both comforted and unsettled Ben.

Maria, oblivious to the silent exchange, held Isabella's hand tightly. "Isabella, thank you for including me in this," she whispered. "It feels... important, somehow."

Isabella nodded, her voice soothing. "It is, Maria. Tonight, we honor our ancestors and connect with the spirits. They guide us and offer us wisdom. Let us open our hearts and listen."

The seance began, and a hush fell over the circle. Incense smoke curled into the air, creating a mystical atmosphere. The flickering candles cast dancing shadows on the surrounding tombstones, their flames reflecting in the wide, intent eyes of the participants. Isabella began to chant softly, her words rhythmic and melodic, calling upon the spirits to join them.

Ben, standing among the other figures, felt a shiver run down his spine. The air seemed to thrum with energy, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was on the brink of something profound. He found himself captivated by the ceremony, drawn into the ancient tradition that Isabella and Maria were part of.

Ms. Marlowe and the other students watched with a mix of awe and trepidation. They were there to support Ben in his journey.

As the chanting grew louder, the veil between the living and the dead seemed to thin. Ben glanced at Isabella, who nodded subtly, encouraging him to embrace the moment.

Isabella's chanting grew more intense, her voice resonating through the cemetery. The atmosphere thickened with an otherworldly presence, and the air felt charged with electricity. Her eyes fluttered closed as she reached out to the spirits, her hands raised towards the sky. Suddenly, her body stilled, and when she spoke again, her voice was different—softer, more ethereal.

"I sense a spirit," Isabella said, her eyes still shut. "She is gentle, yet strong. She speaks of love and protection. Maria, your grandmother is here with us. I am getting a...Nancy?"

Maria gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes as she whispered, "Gran..."

Isabella continued; her words guided by the spirit. "Your grandmother wants you to know that she is proud of you, Maria. She sees your struggles and knows your heart." Isabella squints up her face, opening her eyes to stare at the woman, “Maria! Are you pregnant?”

“No! I can’t be!” There a weird expression come over her face, “Oh God!” She laughed, “It’s possible.”

Ben looked shocked. Lily placed a hand in his, “I didn’t know you had a sibling.”

“I don’t!” Ben muttered.

Isabella glanced over at Ben. She looked pained for a moment before sucking up her emotions and beaming her warm smile. The future could wait, "Your grandmother remembers the times you spent together in her garden, the stories she told you, the songs you sang. Nancy says she will always be by your side." Isabella frowned suddenly, "She is saying...don't forget about the boy. She keeps mentioning the boy." Isabella glanced over at Ben giving him a curious look.

Maria sobbed quietly, her shoulders shaking. "I miss her so much," she whispered.

"She misses you too, but she is always with you," Isabella said gently. "She wants you to know you are never alone even in your darkness moments.”

Maria nodded, tears streaming down her face, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. The presence of her grandmother was palpable, a comforting warmth that wrapped around her heart.

As the séance reached its crescendo, a sudden shift in the atmosphere caught Ben's attention. Two shadowy figures at the edge of the gathering exchanged a quick glance before making their move. One of them snatched the box from the altar and the two dashed into the surrounding darkness.

"Hey! Stop!" Ben shouted, breaking the trance-like state of the séance. The intruders did not stop, vanishing into the night.

Without hesitation, Ben and his friends sprang into action. Ben took off in pursuit. The others followed.

As chaos erupted around her, Maria found her thoughts drifting to the new life growing inside her. The excitement and tension of the seance faded into the background as she placed a gentle hand on her abdomen, contemplating the tiny heartbeat that would soon become her child.

Unaware of the urgency and danger surrounding her, she wandered away from the group, seeking solace in the quiet corners of the cemetery. The ancient graves, bathed in the soft glow of the moon, provided a serene backdrop for her musings. Her heart swelled with a mix of fear and hope, the significance of her pregnancy overshadowing all other concerns.

Maria had to make a call to Henry. She needed to speak to him. Maybe it wasn’t too late for them after all. She walked among the tombstones, her thoughts solely on the future she was about to embark on as a mother, perhaps even a wife, oblivious to the frantic chase happening nearby.

Ms. Marlowe turned to face, Isabella, who had not moved from her spot. Isabella's knowing eyes met hers, and a faint smile played on her lips.

"You are not from here." Isabella said quietly, her tone cryptic and thoughtful. "Not from this time."

Ms. Marlowe's eyes widened slightly, but she quickly composed herself. "What makes you say that?"

Isabella's smile grew a little wider, and she leaned in closer. "I have a sense for these things," she said softly. "Your aura is different. It carries the weight of many ages."

Ms. Marlowe sighed, realizing there was no use hiding the truth from Isabella. "You are perceptive."

In the shadows of the cemetery, Ben and his friends could hear the faint rustling and hurried footsteps of the thieves. "They can't be far," Sam panted, trying to keep up with the pace.

"Split up," Jake suggested. "We'll cover more ground."

The group nodded and spread out, moving through the dark, overgrown paths of the cemetery. The flickering lights of the candles from the altar cast eerie shadows, adding to the tension of the chase.

Ben’s eyes adjusted to the dim light as he caught sight of the two figures ahead. They had stopped to admire the amulet. They were now marveling at the luminous stone.

Ben signaled to his friends, and they converged silently, surrounding the thieves. "Give it back!" Ben demanded, his voice steady despite his racing heart.

“Have it!” The taller thief, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek threw the box at him preparing to take the amulet and go, “This amulet is all I need.”

"Yeah, and it's not yours to take!" Jake added, stepping forward with a makeshift weapon—a metal spike he had picked up along the way.

A tense standoff ensued. The smaller thief, a wiry figure with darting eyes, glanced nervously between his partner and the advancing students.

Sensing their hesitation, Sam took the opportunity to rush forward, tackling the smaller thief to the ground.

The larger thief stumbled from a blow to his back dropping the amulet. Emma had come up behind him with her own weapon. A fallen branch from a nearby tree.

Ben lunged for the amulet, but the larger thief blocked his path, swinging a fist. Ben ducked, narrowly avoiding the blow. Emma managed to snatch the amulet from the ground and legged it away from him. She felt an ice-cold sensation grip her body.

"Everyone back away!" Jake shouted. He grabbed Ben dragging him away from the disoriented thieves. Sam and Lily followed hot on their heels.

They sprinted back through the cemetery, hearts pounding and breaths coming in gasps. Behind them, the thieves shouted angrily but did not pursue, likely realizing they were outnumbered and beaten.

As they burst back into the clearing where Ms. Marlowe and Isabella were waiting. Emma held out the amulet triumphantly. "We got it!"

Isabella smiled, accepting the amulet from Emma, "Thank you." Before turning to Ben. She gazed at him as if looking into his soul, “Remind your mother of what she has lost and help her to embrace what could be.” Isabella's eyes were filled with urgency as she turned to Ms. Marlowe and the students. "I am grateful it is not lost. The amulet has the ability to connect the living with the spirits, a bridge between our world and the afterlife. In the wrong hands, it can be exploited." She took a deep breath, glancing around the darkened cemetery. "I must find Maria.”

With a resolute nod, Isabella hurried off into the night, her silhouette blending into the shadows as she went to find her friend and protect her legacy.

Ms. Marlowe touched her watch, and the time portal once more appeared before them. The class passed through back to the classroom. Ben didn't stay a minute longer. He ran all the way home.

Ben bounced through the back door into the house. He found his mother in the kitchen with a cup of tea, playing Candy Crush, "Mom," he began, his voice trembling slightly. "I know about the baby."

His mother split her tea, turning her shocked face toward him. The day had finally come to tell him about Adam. It was a little disconcerting when he was dressed in Day of The Dead apparel, but the woman pressed on before losing her nerve.

Maria sighed, exhaling a long-held breath, telling her son about the brother he never knew. Adam had died unexpectedly from SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome).

Ben didn't feel as resentful toward her anymore. He was feeling a mixture of sadness for her and guilt that he hadn't been more understanding before now.

Maria told him, that when his father found out about the pregnancy, Henry was dating someone else by that point. He adored this other woman but had to give her up for a family. When Adam died, the reason for getting married was no longer there, which fueled his discontent. This discontent quickly turned to anger.

"So, we're the reason for his unhappiness?"

"Look! Don't think he doesn't love you or your brother." Marai smiled, caressing his face. "He was such a devoted dad when Adam was born. Little Adam made everything worth it for him...until he died." Tears slowly crept down her face, "I blame myself for who he has become. I got in the way of his happiness." She shook her head, "I made both our beds now we have to lie in it. Together."

"And what about me! I am sick of getting smacked! Adam may be gone but I am still here!"

Maria couldn't look at him anymore, feeling the guilt, "I've been thinking about everything Ms. Marlowe said. You should feel safe. I want that for you...but I can't leave him. Not on his own." She finally looked at him, taking his hands in hers, "We need to find you somewhere safe to live."

"I'm not going without you!"

"Yes, you are! End of story!" Somewhere in that determined stance, Ben finally saw the woman in that photograph. "I am setting you free from this house. I'm giving you up for your own sake."

Maria abruptly got up and left the room. Ben could hear her crying all the way to her room that was silenced when the door closed behind her.

#TimeTravelAdventures #DayoftheDead #FunReads #LGBTIQAFiction #YAAdventures.