Cemetery Gates

4 days before Legends...

The scene opens on Ruben Ricardo León walking back through the rows of headstones towards the St Joseph the Worker church in Villahermosa. He is still wearing the suit he was wearing when talking to his father's headstone. The church is still some way away, but Ruben notices that a large crowd has congregated outside the front of the church, all dressed in black. He stops and examines the crowd for a moment. He recognised a few faces, but most of them were new to him. he spotted Christina's family, all being comforted by various mourners. He spots a few people he doesn't recognise that are around his age. He wonders who they are and how Christina knew them. From work, or college maybe. He was sure he would be introduced to them all at some point. Such was the nature of funerals.

He wondered how they all felt, if they felt the same as he did. The regret that he had let his friendship slip out of contact like that, the gratitude that he felt because she had always been there for his when he needed her the most. Or maybe the guilt that he felt for not being there when she needed HIM the most. He shrugged those feelings off. Feeling bad about himself wouldn't bring Christina back, nothing would now, and the people that were closest to her needed the rest to be strong for them. The crowd had grown even larger since he had been stood there. He estimated that there must have been 150 people there now. Taking one last look back in the direction of his father's headstone, he continues walking to the church.

When he arrives at the church. all eyes turn attention to him. He scans the crowd, and spots Jauro on the other side, talking to his wife. He makes his way through the crowd, in their direction.

Ruben Ricardo León: Jauro, hey.

Jauro: Hey, Ruben. Glad you could make it. Sorry I couldn't hook up when you got in last night, Pepito was sick.

Ruben Ricardo León: That's cool man, I think I needed to be alone anyway, you know?

Jauro: Yeah, I understand. You remember my wife, Theresa?

Ruben Ricardo León: Of course. It's great to see you,

Theresa: And you, Ruben.

Jauro: So, how's things? We didn't really get a chance to talk on the phone. How's the career?

Ruben Ricardo León: So so, I'm fighting a Swedish sex god at a PPV in Moscow in a couple of days. And that's something I never thought I would hear myself say.

Jauro and Ruben both laugh.

Jauro: I've been trying my best to follow your progress, but NLWF and FTW have never been syndicated down here in Mexico.

Ruben Ricardo León: I don't know much about that side of the business really, but I'm sure they're working on it. How's things with you, anyway? How's the job?

Jauro: Good, good. I got promoted to manager recently. Corporate says I'm not far away from moving up to the executive.

Ruben Ricardo León: Wow, that's great news. You'll be earning more money than me soon!

Jauro: Here's hoping!

Ruben Ricardo León: Is Pepito not here today?

Jauro: No, we left him at Theresa's mothers. He was still feeling sick and we didn't think he would understand. He had only met her once anyway. Didn't think it would do any good to upset him unnecessarily.

Ruben Ricardo León: Sensible, I think.

Jauro: How was the flight?

Ruben Ricardo León: So so. I never really got on with flying, but it was relatively painless. The tequila helped, I think.

Jauro laughs. Out of the corner of his eye Ruben notices someone else walking towards the group. Ruben recognised him as Horatio, Christina's brother. Ruben had known Horatio since he was born. He was nearly a decade younger than Christina, and Ruben had always thought of him as the little brother he never had. Ruben was an only child. His parents could barely afford to keep him, let alone any more kids, and he had always thought of his friends, who all had big families, as lucky to have brothers and sisters. But Horatio had grown up with Ruben around, and they had that kind of bond. Ruben had actually seen Horatio quite recently. Horatio had been up in Los Angeles for College, and Ruben had run in to him one day when he was looking for places to live. Horatio walked up to Ruben and shook his hand, followed by Jauro's.

Horatio: It's great that you could both make it. Jauro, Ruben, are you guys still up for what we talked about earlier?

Ruben looks at Jauro, who nods at him. Ruben nods back and turns back to Horatio.

Ruben Ricardo León: Absolutely. When do you need us?

Horatio looks at his watch.

Horatio: About 5 minutes, in front of the church.

Ruben Ricardo León: You got it, buddy.

It had been Horatio at the door of Ruben's hotel room, earlier that day. Ruben hadn't been expecting to see anyone until he got to the church. He didn't think anyone knew where he was staying, not even Jauro or Maria, but when he opened the door, there he was. Little Horatio. He looked like a shadow of what Ruben remembered. He was hunched and pale, like he hadn't been eating right. Ruben understood, in a way. Death took its toll on people in different ways. Ruben had dealt with it pretty calmly in the past, but it seemed that Horatio had been affected pretty bad. He looked a bit better now, at the funeral, but Ruben guessed that was as much to do with putting on a face for the mourners as anything else.

When Horatio arrived, he had something to ask Ruben. It's the reason that he had come all the way from being with his grieving family to see him. Horatio had told Ruben that he had found a box which Christina made, with a load of personal letters and items inside. One of the letters was in a sealed envelope, and marked 'Only open if the worst happens.' Figuring it couldn't get much worse, Horatio had opened it, and found inside a list of instructions that Christina had left in the event of her death. One of them was that she wanted him, her father, Jauro and Ruben to be her pall bearers, if circumstances allowed for it. He had wanted to make sure Ruben was OK with that. How could he say no? The last chance he had to honour his friend.

Horatio had gone back to talk to more mourners, and the 5 minutes had passed, so Ruben and Jauro left Theresa to talk to one of Jauro's cousins, and went over to the church entrance to take their place. Just as they got in to position, the hearse pulled around the corner and in to the church grounds. Christina's mother took one look at it and burst in to tears again, burying her head in her sister's shoulder. When he saw the coffin, even Ruben had to choke back some tears. The car pulled up to a stop, and the four men walked round to the back, where the undertaker had opened the rear door. The automatic rollers began to move the coffin along to the arms of the men, who took the weight equally, before shifting it to their shoulders. They steady themselves for a second, before moving slowly in to the church, taking one step a second.

Finally, upon reaching the podium, they shifted the coffin back down from their shoulders and placed it on the pedestal. A song began at almost exactly the same as the coffin was laid down. Ruben didn't recognise it initially, but after 30 seconds, he realised it was Christina's favourite song, 'A Kiss To Build a Dream On', by Louis Armstrong.

The congregated mourners began to file in to the church as the song played on. Ruben and the others stood and waited for them all to seat themselves, before taking their own seats. The last person in to the church was the Priest who would be conducting the ceremony. The congregation rose from their seats as he walked through, looking solemn, towards the pulpit. Everyone sat again as he took his place. All eyes were trained on him.

Priest: Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Father Hernandez, and I will be conducting the ceremony today. We are gathered here today, to mourn the passing of Christina Roberta Jimenez. She was taken from this world too young, too soon. She had so much left to achieve, so many hopes and goals that went unaccomplished. So much life left to live. I look out at your faces today, and I see some people that I recognise, and some that are less familiar. Whether you rea regular attendee or not, it saddens me that we have to meet like this, under such tragic cirucmstances.

Personally, I knew Christina very well. I presided over her baptism, and am proud to count the Jimenez family amongst some of my greatest friends. This tragedy has touched everyone in this room, very deeply. This why we're all here. In one way or another, Christina touched our lives. I cannot speak for everyone here, but I personally am very grateful for that. During her short time on this earth, Christina did her best to help everyone around her. Those who knew her, knew that she was kind hearted, generous, and always willing to help someone in need. She was a wonderful daughter, sister and friend. This service is not for me to talk about my memories of Christina however. Christina's brother Horatio would like to say a few words about his sister.

Horatio stood up and moved up to the pulpit. Reaching in to his inside jacket pocket, he produced a sheaf of folded paper, which he unfolded nervously, his hands visibly shaking. Clearing his throat, he began to read.

Horatio: Christina was a wonderful person. She was the kindest, warmest sister that I could have wished to have. Whenever I needed to talk to someone, she was always there for me, without fail. I remember one time, when I was 16, I called her up to talk to her because I was feeling pretty down about a girl that had broken up with me. She was living in Carmen de la Plata, about 70 miles away, at this point, so the phone was the only practical way of talking. But when she heard how down I was about the whole thing, she simply said 'Give me 2 hours,' and hung up the phone. I was confused at the time, and a little bit angry that she had just hung up on me, but sure enough, two hours later, there was a knock at the door, and when I opened it, she walked in and gave me the biggest hug ever. She had walked to the bus station and got the first bus back home that she could, just to give her stupid kid brother a hug, just because he was a bit down about a girl. I don't know anyone else that I can say would do that for me, barring my mom and dad, and I think that is a testimony to just what kind of person she was. What kind of person we will all miss.

Pausing, Horatio took a deep breath to steady himself.

Horatio: Christina was never happier than when she was with her friends, laughing and joking. Whoever she was with, wherever she was, and whatever she was doing, she was the life of the party. I would like to personally thank two people for coming today, whom Chris considered to be two of her best friends ever, even to this day, though she hadn't seen them much in a while. Ruben and Jauro, who helped carry her in here today. It wouldn't have been the same if you guys hadn't been here, and I don't think we would have been able to give her the send off she deserved if either one of you guys had been absent. I know that wherever she is right now, she is looking down on us all smiling that so many people, including so many of her closest friends and family, have come here to honour her like this. From the family, and from myself, I would like to thank you all for coming and being here for us on this saddest of days.

The service continued on in that way for about an hour. Ruben sat, patiently, and listened to all the hymns and the tributes from family members and other friends. Horatio had asked him if he would like to say anything, but he had declined. It was too short notice, and besides, he had never been the best orator in these situations. Nothing that he could have said would have improved on anything that the other people who gave eulogies had said. The ceremony gave Ruben time to think about the future. Initially, he still could not reconcile his future without thinking about the possibility of it ending in a second, just like Christina's had, but then eventually he came realise that if he let thoughts and worries of death rule his life, then he might as well just end it now. Christina didn't go along every day thinking, worrying that it might be her last. She just got on with it, lived her life as best she could, and hoped that there would be a tomorrow to achieve even more. Ruben thought this was a good philosophy.

When the service ended, Horatio nodded to Ruben and Jauro, who both stood up and went to retrieve the coffin, with Horatio and his father. Slowly again, they carried the box back out to the hearse, moving one step at a time. Ruben couldn't hold it in any more, and beneath the mask, tears began to roll down his cheek as he placed the coffin containing the body of his friend back in the car, to be sent away to its final resting place. Goodbye, Christina, thought Ruben. I'll never forget you.

Cemetery Gates

Cemetery Gates

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