Manolo Had Been Different Since His Resurrection.

Manolo had been different since his resurrection.

Maria didn’t notice it right away. The changes were so subtle, so small that one had to look closely to know they were there at all. But something was… off.

For instance, Manolo was colder now.

Not as cold as his corpse (his corpse) had been. But his skin definitely had a cooler quality to it now. His skin tone was still tan (not pale like he’d been lying still so still on his bed) and he was still warm.

Just not as warm as he was before.

Manolo would sing for them. For she and Joaquin both. He sang of love, friendship, apology, forgiveness, and more. His voice was beautiful, his music was beautiful.

But sometimes his music was off.

The tune, starting out so melodious, would turn darker, more ominous. The notes turned sour and twisted, and Manolo seemed not to notice. Carrying on as though his song was not beginning to frighten them. He would open his eyes and see their scared faces. He would stop and ask if they were alright. And Maria and Joaquin would share a look. They would not tell him.

Sometimes Joaquin could swear Manolo’s eyes glowed. If it was really dark or Manolo was displeased he would see a flash of yellow.

At first he told himself he was imagining it. His relief at having his best friend back (alive) was so great he was seeing things.

But then he kept seeing it.

An eerie yellow glow emitting from Manolo’s eyes for a brief second. The warm brown completely enveloped by the unearthly light. Maria saw it too, he knew she did. And that wasn’t all.

Sometimes during a storm, lightning would flash and for a brief instance the warm, alive musician was replaced with the skeleton. When walking down the street with his two friends he would see someone look at Manolo and do a double take, looking terrified. So it wasn’t just him.

He supposed he shouldn’t be so surprised. Manolo had been dead (no matter how Joaquin had pleaded with him to wake up wake up please I’m sorry). There had to have been some side effects, some lingering results of death.

Manolo used to love animals. He would pet every dog, cat, chicken, every creature that crossed his path. But he was beginning to rethink his opinions.

Animals hated him now. They refused to come near him and growled and hissed whenever he came close. Chuy would skirt around him, try to tug Maria away from him. Even the bulls in their pens would snort and back away.

After his got his life back, his two amigos would not let him out of their sight (we’re not losing you ever again). But they’d sometimes recoil slightly at his touch. Or refuse to look him in the eyes. The people of San Angel would often look warily at him. Some would turn to smile at him but start in terror, before peering closer at him, confused. He wondered what they saw.

He would sometimes catch Maria and Joaquin looking at him with strange, unreadable expressions on their faces. A hint of apprehension or outright fear.

“What’s wrong?” He would ask them.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost”