Visit the cemetary.

Dago decided to skip going to the house for now. At sunrise, he’d have to come back here and spend the rest of the day doing whatever he could to amuse himself. There was a lot more daylight than nighttime here, so he’d have plenty of time to get to work on it, eventually. He started to walk down the road, toward the cemetery on a hill. On the way there, he bought some things to leave at the grave. It was early November, meaning it was Dia de los Muertos. All of these things would be handy in making a small ofrenda. He wished he had a little bit more, but the ofrendas have to be personal. He wasn’t sure how much of her stuff was left in the house.

Once he got to the cemetery, there were already people there, who greeted him in a friendly manner. There were families around graves, holding candles, candy, bread, and guitars, singing and talking. They all seemed bitter sweetly happy to be there.

Dago climbed the small hill to where he knew his grandmother was buried. She spent a lot of her life helping the people of the town; she was touted as a medicine woman and had a lot of mystery around her. They were all grateful for the things she’d done and gave her a place of honor to be buried. Dago approached the grave and saw a large patch of new grass and some slightly upturned soil. That was strange; he didn’t recall a grave being next to hers. He ignored it for now and set up the little ofrenda. He lit some candles and put the marigolds in the fixed vase after he carefully placed some bread on the headstone. It read ‘Consuela Esperanza Vivar’ and then had the words ‘Buena Alma, Buena Mente, Buena Corazón’ written underneath, along with her birth and **** date. The big stone box was standing alone over here, it looked a bit out of place when one turned around and looked at the crowded graves at the bottom. That was why that in-ground grave next to hers was so strange. It was plainly out of place.

Dago pressed his hands together in the appearance of praying. He wasn’t so much praying as he was hoping she was alright in the afterlife. He didn’t want to investigate where she ended up; there wasn’t anything he could do about it if it was bad. He turned around; satisfied he’d fulfilled enough tradition to make his abuela’s memory happy.