And it does.

6

KATRINA

I sit at the front of the stage with my notebook in my lap and the printed script in front of me. Brody and Tabitha are running through the opening scene where Hector and Imelda meet at the Día de los Muertos, or the Day of the Dead. It’s a nod to the movie Coco, where my inspiration emerged, but I also chose it because I knew how beautiful the stage could look lit up with fake candlelight as the backdrop to the start of an epic love story.

The stage crew is working on the creation of the large canvas that will eventually be painted and have lights strung through it and it’s already more beautiful than I ever could have imagined.

“It needs something.”

I glance over at Willa’s words to find her studying the stage intently, playing with her lip piercing. She continues, “I’m not getting the historical or the Mexico vibe.”

My stomach drops at her words, which were said kindly but don’t make me panic any less. She nudges me with her elbow. “Hey, it’s a great story and it’s going to be amazing. I’m sure the costumes and props will bring it all together.”

I sigh. “No, you’re right. It feels contemporary and American because that’s what I know.”

“What made you decide to write a historical play anyway?”

Bite the corner of my lip and wonder the same thing but don’t say it out loud. I can only shrug. Honestly it wasn’t intentional. I never dreamed it’d be so difficult to translate the culture and time of Mexico in the early 1900s. Apparently a lot was going on in Mexico, the whole world actually, that I failed to consider.

“What we need to do is research.” She claps her hands together. “Ooooh, let’s plan a trip to Cabo. We can get a tan and ask around about history and whatever.”

I smile at her wide-eyed excitement. Willa writes the most beautiful and insightful words, primarily poetry and short stories, but she talks like a nineties valley girl which makes me laugh. I adore her.

She’s also probably the closest thing I have to a college friend. We’re in all the same classes and are both part of a critique group that meets once a week to share our writing and bounce ideas off one another. Her enthusiasm and creativity make her a great critique and brainstorming partner, but I wonder how she’s able to put her thoughts on paper so poetically when she ends sentences with things like “and whatever.”

“I think I’m gonna have to solve this problem from Valley, but that’s not a bad idea. Maybe we can chat with the Spanish department and see if they have some recommendations. In the meantime, I need to work on the ending. I can’t figure out the last scene where Imelda receives the last letter from Hector a month after his death.”

I bring the end of my pen to my mouth as I try to visualize it. I want it to be perfect.