Mackenzie Moore walked down candle-lit streets, avoiding the marigolds with careful steps and keeping his head down.
When he was small, his mother used to bring him and Alexandria close, whispering to them old stories from home: traditions and tales and holidays. She would tell them of Finados, and the day after the Catholic's All Saint's Day, she would take them to the cemetery, and they would celebrate the lives of their dead there.
Their dead were lost siblings and infant murders, but Adriana wanted her children to understand their culture, even a little bit, and they lit candles and prayed over little headstones and little graves. And then they would leave, and on Sundays Johnny would drag them into church to reflect on their sins and repent, and Mackenzie would stare up and wonder why it was that the Catholics celebrated Jesus' death more than his life.
It had been a long time since he had stepped foot in a church or stopped to celebrate the lives of dead loved ones on Finados, however; when he died himself, but came back something hollow and cold and unholy. He thought it would be a little bit too ironic for a dead thing to remember the dead as they were.
And sometimes, Mackenzie didn't want to remember them at all.
Stopping at a crosswalk, he stared across the street at a few crowded apartment buildings with day old Halloween decorations and flower petals drifting lazily in front of them. He knew that all around the Isle, those who had moved on had come back to visit their loved ones. To say their goodbyes, and to catch up on time lost, and to apologize or be apologized to - that it was Dia de los Muertos and a time to celebrate.
He knew he should probably do something to pay his respects, at least. It would only be polite, and if he was nothing else, 'Kenzie was polite. But he knew he wouldn't, and instead he made his way home; climbing up the stairs to his third floor apartment that he knew had no one inside right now because Dom and Elisa were probably doing something and Goose hadn't been around for a long while.
Opening the door, then, he froze when he heard laughter down the hall.
"Oh, mamãe, don't be so silly! You were always good to us!"
"Your lies ease an old woman's heart, amado, but really. I know what I was."
Slowly closing the door, so as not to startle the familiar voices, Mackenzie made his way towards the kitchen. He could hear what seemed like the echoes of pots and pans clanging together; the old cast iron ones, not the new ones with the no-stick bottoms that he bought in case anyone from work ever wanted to come over. Or in case Lyron wanted to practice new recipes and 'Kenzie wanted to avoid the critique on his dishware.
He stopped by the doorway, watching the scene in front of him with a dawning sense of hope and dread mixed together.
Adriana Moore stood in front of the stove, her dark, smooth skin an opaque, smoky brown that suggested she was not quite there. Her dark curls, with their reddish hint that only showed in the right light, was tied up and back, out of her face, as she moved about the kitchen as if she were cooking. Her face was somewhat aged, and she wore clothes that she wouldn't have worn when 'Kenzie knew her, but she was his mother, alright. The curved-in shoulders and slouched posture screamed Adriana's perpetually tired existence, even after death.
Seated around the table, Alexandria, Maria, Katrina and Elizabeth were all there, looking towards their mother with various expressions of contentedness. Alexandria was beautiful, with soft, curling brownish red hair and the Moore eyes. Johnny's eyes made far more kind than they had ever been on Johnny himself. She was pale, freckled, and she wore simple clothes, plain clothes and a large engagement ring. She and 'Kenzie had always looked the most alike. He could almost see it.
Maria was sprawled out across the table next to Alexandria, her dark hair spilling out around her tanned face. Here was Adriana's girl, but more lively than her mother had ever been. She dressed well in sequins and lace, a box-like dress and rings on each finger. A bead of pearls wrapped twice around her neck, and he remembered the photographs, remembered her beaten and bloody and barely recognizable, and it was so good to see her whole.
Katrina sat slightly separated from Maria and Alexandria, holding a cup of smoky, steaming tea in her hands. Dark hair and dark eyes blended in to a dark face to become something understated and soft and warm. Her hair was braided and she wore a nightgown and slippers and she looked tired, just like mamãe. He remembered her as only small, a young girl watching him make his way to the train station; clinging to her mother's skirts.
Elizabeth was completely apart from the others, leaning back in her seat, nigh-unrecognizable to 'Kenzie except for the freckles that he had always known she would grow into. She was older, a woman fully grown, and her dark hair was cropped short and her dark eyes were sharp and vicious, but there was a gentleness to her mouth and she wore an engagement ring as easily as she wore her nice clothes. She had been four when he had left, four, and he never saw her grow up - only saw her buried.
They all turned to him, then, and he froze where he stood, caught by a mix of light and dark eyes by all the women he had failed.
"...Well, Mackenzie, meu filho, aren't you going to come here and give your mamãe a hug?"
Without seeming to think about it, 'Kenzie walked over to Adriana and put his arms around her. She was cool but solid enough and he buried his face into her shoulder and curved around her; never realizing just how small his mother had always been. Her hands reached around him, fingers burying into the hair she gave him, and he let out something like a sob.
"Oh, my boy, my love, amor, it's okay - I'm here, now, it's okay."
"Mamãe, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I meant to come back, I swear I meant to, sinto muito, me perdoe."
"Bebê, 'Kenzie, no, no it's okay, you did nothing wrong."
He pulled back, staring down at her; her hands framing his face. She stared up at him with love; happiness and tiredness and trepidation, but love over all of that. She had always looked at him as if he were going to be her saviour. Always looked at him with hope and fear and expectation. This was different; this was new.
"How could you fail me, hm? Tell me that, filho, tell me how you could fail me. You were killed. You were taken away from me; taken by another, brought into a family that was not mine. You cannot have failed me, then. You could not have come back to me. You weren't mine, anymore."
"Listen to mamãe, okay? Listen to me. I failed you, Mackenzie. I failed you. I raised you to think you had to save me, and I encouraged it. I encouraged this thought that you had to protect your mother. And bebê, you did - you always protected me. You took more beatings from that man than any of us combined. You were black and blue and green and yellow all of the time, and you left school to make sure we could live in our home, and you became a father to your sisters. You were everything. And you shouldn't have been." She patted his cheeks, sighing and shaking her head. "Plain as that, you shouldn't have been. You should have had the chance to be a boy. I made you grow up too fast."
She let go of him, stepping back and looking towards her daughters, all who watched the two of them quietly.
"I made all of you grow up too fast. Forgive your mamãe?"
The girls all looked to each other, and 'Kenzie stayed next to his mother as Adriana stood there and waited for their answer. Then Katrina stood up, followed by Maria and Alexandria - Elizabeth last, always last, the youngest there and the angriest.
They came up to Adriana, and as one they all wrapped their arms around her, resting their heads against her shoulders and back and chest. Katrina whispered something against her skin and Alexandria brushed back silvery tears; and Maria, brash and irresponsible and lively Maria, reached out to 'Kenzie and dragged him in as well.
He buried his face in Maria's hair and pretended that he could smell wildflowers and for the first time since he had died, his heart didn't ache so much when he thought about his family.
Elizabeth then pulled back, turning to 'Kenzie and smiling at him with that surprisingly gentle mouth.
"Now that we have that out of the way - big brother, who is Raymond Morales?"
Mackenzie stared at his sister for a long moment before letting out a startled laugh, grinning and shaking his head.
"Oh, come now irmão, tell us! Tell us!" Katrina cried, turning to him and grinning. He smiled.
"How about this - you tell me about yourselves, and then maybe I'll tell you."
areudirty
theartofmadeline