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Leaving the family home behind, Miguel breathed the crisp [1] air of another sunny morning in Santa Cecilia. As he headed into town with his shoeshine box, he passed a woman sweeping a stoop [2] . She waved.
“Hola, Miguel!”
“Hola.” Miguel waved back. Closer to town, Miguel smiled at a lone guitar player plucking away at a song. The farther in Miguel went, the more music f illed the air. Church bells chimed in harmony. A band played an upbeat tune. A radio blared a swift cumbia [3] rhythm. Miguel soaked it all in. He couldn’t help tapping out a beat on a table covered with brightly colored wooden animalf igurines [4] .
As Miguel rushed past another stand with pastries [5] for sale, he grabbed a pan dulce and tossed the vendor [6] a coin.
Smelling the sweet bread, Miguel’s canine [7] sidekick [8] , Dante, sidled up to him. Miguel tore of a piece of the bread and Dante chomped it down.
Everywhere Miguel looked, people were preparing for their loved ones to return from the Land of the Dead by hanging colorful papel picado
and laying marigold petals at their doorways.
As usual, Mariachi Plaza was full of musicians strolling around, waiting for their chance to serenade
[9]
a couple or a family with a love song or a classic corrido
. Soon a tour group gathered around a large statue of a mariachi player in the center of the plaza.
“And right here, in this very plaza, the young Ernesto de la Cruz took his f irst steps toward becoming the most beloved singer in Mexican history,” said the guide.
Everyone in the group nodded, familiar with the legendary [10] musician and singer.Along with the tourists, Miguel gazed up at the statue. He’d seen it a hundred times, but it always inspired him.
After a moment, Miguel found a spot in the plaza and pulled out his shoeshine box. A mariachi plopped [11] down for a shine.
Miguel knew the mariachi would enjoy this story. After all, everyone loved Ernesto.
“He started out a total nobody from Santa Cecilia, like me,” said Miguel. “But when he played music, he made people fall in love with him. He starred in movies. He had the coolest guitar. He could f ly!” Miguel had seen that special efect in some old f ilm clips [12] . “And he wrote the best songs! But my all-time favorite?It’s—” Miguel gestured to some musicians nearby, who were playing “Remember Me,”Ernesto’s biggest hit. “He lived the kind of life you dream about. Until 1942, when he was crushed by a giant bell.”
The mariachi looked pointedly [13] at his shoes, which Miguel was only halfheartedly shining.
Ignoring the musician, Miguel shrugged off Ernesto’s unfortunate death. “I wanna be just like him. Sometimes I look at Ernesto and I get this feeling, like we’re connected somehow.Like if he could play music, maybe someday I can, too.” Miguel sighed. “If it wasn’t for my family.”
“Ay-yi-yi, muchacho [14] ,” said the mariachi,snapping [15] Miguel out of his story.
“Huh?” said Miguel.
“I asked for a shoeshine, not your life story,” replied the mariachi.
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Miguel lowered his head and polished the man’s shoe. As he worked,the mariachi casually plucked [16] at his guitar strings. “I just can’t really talk about any of this at home, so—”
“Look, if I were you? I’d march [17] right up to my family and say, ‘Hey! I’m a musician.Deal with it.’ ”
“I could never say that.” “You ARE a musician, no?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I only really play for myself—”
“Ahh!” the mariachi howled [18] . “Did Ernesto de la Cruz become the world’s best musician by hiding his sweet, sweet skills?No! He walked out onto that plaza and he played out loud!” The mariachi pointed to the gazebo [19] , where a giant canvas [20] that read talent show was being unfurled [21] . “Ah! Mira,mira! They’re setting up for tonight. The music competition for Día de los Muertos. You wanna be like your hero? You should sign up!”
“Uh-uh—my family would freak,” Miguel said. “Look, if you’re too scared, then, well, have fun making shoes.” The mariachi shrugged.“C’mon, what did Ernesto de la Cruz always say?”
“‘Seize your moment’?” Miguel said.
The mariachi looked Miguel over and then ofered him his guitar. “Show me what you got,muchacho. I’ll be your f irst audience.”
Miguel’s eyebrows rose. The mariachi really wanted to hear him play? He glanced down the street to make sure the coast was clear of any family members. He reached for the guitar. Once it was cradled [22] in his arms,Miguel spread his f ingers across the strings,anticipating [23] his chord, and—
“Miguel!” a familiar voice yelled.
Miguel gasped [24] and threw the guitar back into the mariachi’s lap. Abuelita marched toward him. Tío Berto and Prima Rosa followed close behind with supplies from the market.
“Abuelita!” Miguel exclaimed.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Um ... uh ... ,” Miguel stammered [25] as he quickly packed away his shine rag and polishes. Abuelita didn’t wait for Miguel’s answer. She barreled [26] up to the mariachi and struck [27] him with her shoe. “You leave my grandson alone!”
“Doña, please—I was just getting a shine!”
“I know your tricks, mariachi!” She glared at Miguel. “What did he say to you?”
“He was just showing me his guitar,”Miguel said sheepishly [28] . His family gasped.
“Shame on you!” Tío Berto barked at the mariachi. Abuelita’s shoe was aimed directly at the area between the musician’s eyes.
“My grandson is a sweet little angelito querido cielito—he wants no part of your music, mariachi! You keep away from him!”she threatened. Miguel wasn’t so sure he was the sweet little angel from heaven she’d described, but he wasn’t going to argue when she was gripping her shoe like that.
The mariachi scampered [29] away, pulling on his hat before leaving. Miguel watched apologetically [30] over his abuelita’s shoulder.
“Ay, pobrecito!” Abuelita pulled her grandson protectively [31] to her bosom. “Estás bien, m’ijo?”Miguel gasped for air. “You know better than to be here in this place! You will come home. Now!”she ordered, and turned away from the plaza.
Miguel sighed and gathered his shine box. He spotted a plaza talent-show f lyer [32] on the ground. Behind his abuelita’s back, he snatched [33] it up and put it in his pocket.
[1] crisp adj. 新鲜的
[2] stoop n. 门廊
[3] cumbia n. 坤比亚舞
[4] figurine n. 小雕像
[5] pastry n. 糕点
[6] vendor n. 小贩
[7] canine adj. 犬的
[8] sidekick n. （非正式）伙伴
[9] serenade v. 为……唱小夜曲
[10] legendary adj. 传奇的
[11] plop v. 扑通坠落；让身体沉重地落下
[12] clip n. （电影、广播、电视节目等的）片段
[13] pointedly adv. 明确地；直截了当地
[14] muchacho n. （西班牙语）小伙子
[15] snap v. 突然打断
[16] pluck v. 拨（弦）
[17] march v. 前进
[18] howl v. 咆哮；怒吼
[19] gazebo n. 眺望台；露台
[20] canvas n. 帆布
[21] unfurl v. 展开（伞、帆或旗帜）
[22] cradle v. 轻轻地抱或捧
[23] anticipate v. 预判；预见
[24] gasp v. 倒抽气
[25] stammer v. 口吃，结结巴巴地说
[26] barrel v. 飞奔
[27] strike v. 攻击
[28] sheepishly adv. 胆怯地
[29] scamper v. 惊惶奔跑
[30] apologetically adv. 抱歉地
[31] protectively adv. 保护地
[32] flyer n. 传单
[33] snatch v. 一把抓起
