“I have an idea!” Pea said on the walk from Limonero Park to the SS Lucky Alley. “We should make an altar for Pinky. We’ll carry it in the Día de los Muertos procession.”
Lou Lou, who had been quiet and gloomy, perked up. “Great plan, Pea! If Pinky doesn’t recover, of course.”
“Oh, of course,” Pea replied. “I didn’t mean to…” She trailed off.
Lou Lou put an arm around Pea’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ve spent five whole years—half my life!—as a horticulture enthusiast. I know that Pinky’s chances are slim. If we do make an altar, we’ll have to do it soon. Día de los Muertos is coming right up!”
“We could redo Bisabuela Nellie’s altar for Pinky,” Pea suggested. “The frame already has flowers painted on it.”
When Pea’s great-grandmother Nelida Soto had passed away last year, Lou Lou helped Pea make a Día de los Muertos altar to remember her. They decorated the altar with painted flowers, crepe paper, a photo of Bisabuela Nellie in her favorite chair, and construction-paper dogs to symbolize Pea’s great-grandmother’s beloved terriers. Alongside Pea’s family, Lou Lou and Pea had carried the altar in the twilight procession. Then they sat on Pea’s front porch to eat pistachios, Bisabuela Nellie’s favorite food, and tell each other her terrible jokes.
“But that altar is so special to you,” replied Lou Lou.
“It is special. Even more reason to pass it along. We made it for someone I loved, now we can reuse it for something you loved. I want Pinky to have it, and I bet Bisabuela Nellie would, too.”
“Thanks, Pea. That’s really nice of you.” Lou Lou hugged her best friend.
“We will just need to make a few changes.” Pea had her dreamy planning-an-art-project look on her face. “Maybe add more flowers, a photo, and some things that remind you of Pinky.”
“My mom might even have perfume with camellia notes. We could spray the altar with it,” Lou Lou suggested.
“What a wonderful idea. Bisabuela Nellie would be proud, Lou Lou,” Pea said.
Lou Lou thought of one of Bisabuela Nellie’s bad jokes. “Why shouldn’t you write with a broken pencil?”
Pea grinned. “Because it’s pointless! What kind of flower is on your face?” Pea asked.
“Tulips!” Lou Lou replied, and giggled, even though she’d heard the joke a hundred times. This was the first time Lou Lou had laughed since the morning’s tragic events. A Día de los Muertos altar for Pinky was definitely a good idea.
Not far from Lou Lou’s house, Lou Lou pointed to another favorite mural.
“We have to say hello to School Is for the Birds,” she said. School Is for the Birds was a painting of a classroom filled with students looking at a map of the world. From the inside, the school looked like Lou Lou’s, but the outside view revealed that it was in the middle of a jungle. Monkeys peered through tangled vines and an array of colorful birds perched on tree branches.
Lou Lou nodded to acknowledge the mural, then stopped short to examine it. Between two monkeys was a burst of lemon yellow and purple that had not been there before. But instead of being another bird amid the leaves, the new colors belonged to a familiar dress.
“Pea!” Lou Lou exclaimed. “It’s a grape-juice-dyed quinceañera dress!”
“What?” Pea, who’d been brushing cupcake crumbs off the sleeve of her coat, looked at the painting with wide eyes. “Why is Magdalena’s dress in the mural?”
“I dunno, but it’s loco!” Lou Lou said. “You were right before that the murals change, but until now it’s always been because someone replaces an entire old scene with a new one.”
“It is also strange that someone painted a bad thing that actually happened,” Pea added. “The murals are not usually so realistic.”
“Something funny is definitely going on here, Pea. We need to figure out what it is! We’re so good at sleuthing. Remember the treasure hunt in second grade when we found enough tamarindo candy to last us a year?”
Pea nodded. “We need to investigate,” she agreed. “The least we can do is find out what happened to my prima’s beautiful dress!”
Pea is right, thought Lou Lou. They definitely needed to help Magdalena. Lou Lou also remembered Helado the bunny.
“I bet Helado is real, too, just like Magdalena’s dress.” As these words came from Lou Lou’s mouth, she heard footsteps and rustling. A teenage girl emerged from a nearby alley. Her long hair was clipped back into a ponytail and she was wearing a skirt that was a waterfall of red-and-white ruffles. Lou Lou recognized her from an art show she’d attended with Pea.
“Pea, isn’t that—”
“Rosa!” Pea finished. “I bet she designed that gorgeous skirt herself. She is so creative!”
“¡Hola, Rosa!” Pea said. Rosa looked in their direction.
“Hello, Peacock,” Rosa called softly, and waved. “And hello…”
“I’m Lou Lou.”
“Of course. La mejor amiga de Peacock.” Rosa walked up to the girls. “Hola, Lou Lou.”
“Your skirt is lovely. Did you make that?” Pea asked.
“Sí,” replied Rosa.
“Maybe you can show me how you did the design?” Pea was always eager to polish her fashion skills.
“I’d be happy to, but right now I am late to meet a friend,” Rosa said, her eyes darting off into the distance. “I have to go. Hasta luego.” Rosa waved again and turned down the next alley.
“Rosa! Hold on a minute!” Lou Lou called, thinking maybe she’d seen who had changed the mural. But she was too late. Rosa was gone.