Disclaimer: Encanto does not belong to me. This story is not for profit.
CW: Mentions of physical abuse
Chapter 3
October 19th
The next morning Julieta sought out Mirabel and made sure they had breakfast together. They ate at the house of one of Julieta's friends, the village midwife. The woman was nice enough to give them the run of the house. Mirabel was wary, but her mother seemed penitent as she served up her friend's arepas, fresh fruit, and coffee. They stood in the kitchen instead of sat. Mirabel didn't want to be trapped into having to escape from a table.
Mirabel chewed her first bite of arepa slowly and then washed it down with coffee. The different taste of it reminded her of all they had lost.
Julieta set her plate on the counter and cradled her cup of coffee. "Hija, I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me yesterday. No matter what we are talking about, I should never raise my voice to you or threaten you."
"It really hurt, and it really scared me," Mirabel admitted. Her chest was tight. She set aside her plate of food and her coffee.
Julieta sighed and set down her coffee cup. "It's very scary when your mother threatens to hurt you. I have no idea why it came out of me, and I'm so sorry. I don't know why it happened. And I said horrible things about Bruno…" She rubbed her tired-looking face with both hands. "I swore I would never become my mother."
This crack in her mother's armor revealed a vulnerability and a deep family issue that made Mirabel feel small and scared inside. She hugged her mother gently, irrationally terrified her mother might break in her arms and crumble like Casita had. "Then change. Pressure brings out the worst – or maybe shows us who we are. So take what we're learning and stop being Abuela."
Julieta hugged her daughter and patted her daughter's back. "My mother has always been under incredible pressure. She found herself the leader of a whole community – the protector of a miracle – the one people looked up to – and she was so young. The pressure had to go somewhere."
"I don't believe that, and you just said you don't believe it, either," Mirabel said. She pulled away to look into her mother's eyes. "Abuela had no excuse for hurting you or Tio Bruno – or Tia Pepa. And her hurting you doesn't make you hurting me – or Isabela – or Luisa – right." A lump formed in her throat. "If you don't accept that what Abuela did to you is wrong, really wrong, then you will end up hurting me. Mom, don't hurt me. I love you. Please don't ever hurt me. Because I won't forgive you if you do. How can I? That would be saying that what you did was right. And it won't be. So please don't do it."
Julieta cried and hugged her tightly and stroked her hair. "You are an incredible young woman, Mirabel Madrigal. I want to always be a part of your life. And it is more clear than ever that I must earn it. And I don't believe you're responsible for making Casita fall. Bruno's visions never make sense until after they're over. And seeing you in his vision doesn't mean that you caused anything. It just means you were there when it happened."
"I really wanted to save the miracle." Mirabel let herself cry.
"Mi vida, you could never have saved the miracle. Only my mother could do that. And you tried. You tried to help her. But I don't think the miracle is coming back, because your Abuela is too old to face the truth now. She's too set in her ways." Julieta stroked Mirabel's cheek and cupped her youngest daughter's chin. "We are going to have to learn how to be brave and strong without any Gifts."
Mirabel wanted to say, I already had to learn how to do that. But she had just made up with her mother and didn't want to fight again. The worst part is, I don't think she means to insult me. She can't see past her own pain to see me.
They finished breakfast in silence.
xxx
At the building site, Mirabel, Luisa, and a line of villagers all helped raise a wall, and another line of people on the other side of the wall put in the supports that would allow the wall to stand on its own.
"Luisa!" Mirabel flagged her down and followed her. "I figured it out. Your anxiety comes from Mom."
"Mom?" Luisa looked astonished. "Mom's nice. Why would Mom make me anxious? Don't you think you're thinking too hard? I mean, it's like you said. I carry too much. I'm so scared to let down the family I never relax."
"But why did you start carrying so much?" Mirabel insisted.
"I don't wanna talk about it right now. The sooner we can rebuild Casita the sooner we'll have our own beds to sleep in."
"It's not all up to you," Mirabel said. She followed her sister. "And I'm not saying that Mom did it on purpose. Mom had a similar pressure put on her by Abuela."
"Maybe you should leave Abuela alone," Luisa said nervously.
"Why? Casita already fell down," Mirabel said. "What's the worst that could happen? I don't see what's left to worry about. Besides, I'm more worried about Mom. And you."
"Don't worry about me," Luisa said.
Mirabel frowned doubtfully. "You're saying that because you're used to no one worrying about you."
Luisa slowed down. "Maybe that's true."
"Then I need to get you used to someone worrying about you," Mirabel said. "You. Not your performance. I'm not worried about you letting anyone down. I'm worried about how you feel and if you're OK."
Luisa's lower lip quivered. "Not really." She spoke quietly. "I'm scared. Who's gonna protect us if I can't do it?"
"We'll all have to help protect each other." Mirabel gave her a hug.
Luisa hugged her in return.
Agustín intruded into this moment. "Uh, Luisa, Mirabel and I need to have a father-daughter chat. Is that OK?"
Luisa wiped her nose and squared her shoulders warily. "Sure, Dad." She put on a bright tone of voice.
Agustín took Mirabel aside, out of the construction site and into a quiet alley of the village. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I really put my foot in my mouth. You were trying to tell me how you felt, and I wasn't listening."
Mirabel took a deep breath. "Then you talked to Mom."
He grimaced and looked away. "Your mother and I love you very much. But sometimes – OK, maybe most of the time – we don't know how to help you. I always told you it's OK to be you, and I meant that." He looked at her earnestly. "You take after me. You're normal. Just normal. Not unexceptional, not – not broken – and I'm going to tell the villagers not to make jokes about you anymore."
Mirabel frowned. "You mean like Senor Orozco?"
Agustín cringed. "I'm sure he was trying to be nice." He wilted as Mirabel glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "Or not. I'll speak with him."
"Is that all, Pa?" Mirabel asked.
He frowned and puffed up his narrow chest as if that could someone make him more commanding. "No. I want you to be understanding toward your mother."
"I am," Mirabel said.
Agustín smiled. "Good."
"I spoke with Tio Bruno about it."
"Bruno?" Her father seemed almost comically surprised. "What did he say?"
Mirabel raised her eyebrows. "He said that Mom keeps everything inside until she explodes like a firecracker. That Tia Pepa lets it out and Mom doesn't."
"Your mother really needs your understanding right now."
"You're talking like Bruno isn't being understanding. How would you know? Have you spoken with him today?"
"I just don't want you to get the wrong idea about your mother," Agustín said.
"The wrong idea like what?"
He held up his hands defensively. "All I'm saying is that your mother could use a little understanding right now."
"She threatened to slap me!" Mirabel's voice went shriller than she wanted it to.
Agustín fell silent for a moment. He looked at the ground, his hands in his pockets. Then he met Mirabel's gaze. "Your mother has had a very hard life."
"If you're talking about Abuela, she makes everyone's life hard."
Her father panicked. "Not so loud!"
Mirabel felt an unfamiliar lurch of disgust. She stared at him. "We can't pretend Abuela isn't doing what she's doing and hasn't done what she's done."
"Mirabel-"
"No! I'm done listening to excuses. I thought the best of everyone – everyone, Dad – and everyone except Antonio and Bruno backstabbed me." Mirabel shook. She was so angry, she felt like a can of cola: shaken up inside. "No one would face Abuela with me. No one except Tio Bruno – and I forgive Antonio because Antonio is 5 years old." She stared her father down. "What's your excuse? You say you love me. You and Mom say that you love me. All the time. But when it came down to helping me talk to Abuela about how to save the miracle, I was all alone. The only person who came to save me was Tio Bruno. The only person brave enough to face what this family does to each other – because of Abuela – is Bruno." Her jaw clenched. "And you all hate him."
Agustin looked startled. "What? Who said we hate Bruno?"
Mirabel narrowed her eyes and pointed at him. "Fine. You don't hate him. But you don't love him enough to stand up for him when he's in danger, or being picked on, or putting himself out there for this family by trying to stop Abuela from hurting us anymore."
"I'm an outsider here," Agustín pleaded quietly, spreading his hands. "Try to understand, mi vida. Standing up to your Abuela isn't my place. Speaking out isn't my place. Your mother, she's kind of a peace-keeper in the family, and if I'm anything but that, your grandmother has had the power all along to make me go away. She is the most important person in the Encanto. Your grandmother Alma might even be the Encanto in some people's eyes. Anyone who displeases her is dirt. I can't step outside my role. I might not like it, but I don't have the power to speak up."
"Then Bruno is collateral damage, right? How he's treated and what happens to him might be sad, but it's none of your business?" Mirabel was furious. She had liked her father's gentleness until now. Now she had to ask herself, Is it gentleness or weakness?
Agustín frowned and pulled himself up straight, somehow looking like a parody of an authority figure instead of an actual one. "I know that I'm pretty lax with you girls, but I am still your father, and I still expect you to talk to me like I am."
"You didn't answer the question," Mirabel said quietly. Her throat was too tight with anger to get any louder. Her hands were clenched at her sides. "You're all prepared to sacrifice Bruno. First you blame things on him. Then you don't even try to find him when he goes missing. Then you refuse to talk about him."
Agustín let out a desperate, offended scoff. "Those were Alma's orders! She said it was up to him to come back and beg forgiveness for abandoning the family, but that she wasn't going to waste time looking for him, because that would inconvenience everybody."
"If you'd wanted to find him, you would have. Dolores did." Mirabel turned and walked away toward the building site.
Agustín's jaw dropped. "What? Dolores? Wait!" He caught up to her and turned her around to face him. "What do you mean, Dolores found him?"
Mirabel glared at him. "Bruno never left."
Agustín squeezed her shoulders tightly. "He never left the Encanto?"
"He never left the house," Mirabel spat.
Her father let go of her shoulders, his hands going slack. "Oh, my god…"
Mirabel whirled and stomped away. "I'm going back to helping rebuild Casita. And I've noticed you're not doing very much to help us." She knew that was a little unfair, since her father was so clumsy he could easily be killed trying to help them, given all it would take was being hit in the head with a single adobe brick or for a wall to fall on him wrong, but in this moment, she didn't care.
When she looked over her shoulder, her father was slinking back to where her mother cooked food over an open grill. Pepa, Isabela, and Dolores were also there. He said something to her mother, gesturing with both hands, and her mother frowned and gestured with a spatula.
Mirabel rolled her eyes. What, am I in trouble again? But her parents didn't wave at her to come join them, so she did menial tasks around the building site with the villagers. The village plumber, Senor Villegas, shows her how to lay pipes for the new kitchen sink.
Luisa carried a stone brick under each arm and set them down with a grunt. "Mom wants you."
"OK." Maribel was determined to act like nothing was wrong. She waved goodbye to Senor Villegas and came over to the cooking stations. "Yes, Mom?"
"Do you know where Isabela is?"
Even a couple of days ago, that question would have made her furious. She was still a little angry. But at least she didn't say I have to apologize to Dad. Mirabel looked around, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand. Siesta would be soon. "I haven't seen her in, like…half an hour? And I don't see her right now."
Julieta frowned. "I don't want her to wander off. Being by herself right now isn't good for her." She cupped Mirabel's cheek and kissed it. "Please find her and talk to her. She was acting strangely before we lost the miracle, and now that we have…I'm worried about her."
Dolores returned to the cooking station for more food to deliver. Her hand faltered as she picked up a plate of arepas. "Isabela?"
"Do you know something?" Julieta asked.
Mirabel pinned Dolores with a stare. "If you know where Isabela is, you could save me a lot of time and trouble."
Dolores looked away. "She is outside of town. To the south." She hurried away with the arepas.
Mirabel sighed. "At least she actually told me, instead of saying, go talk to Luisa, or, 'Isabela just wants to be alone'."
xxx
Outside of the village to the south was nothing but rainforest. Someday Mirabel knew that the village would probably expand to take up this space, but for now this land was an untouched wilderness.
Mirabel ducked around a tree. "Isa…" She parted the tall bushes in front of her and walked through them.
Isabela turned to face her, so close they almost collided.
Mirabel scrambled back a step. "…bela." She tripped, fell, and picked herself up, frowning. "Why did you run away?"
"I need to be alone, and there is no place to be alone anymore, unless I come out here," Isabela hissed. "And everything out here reminds me that I can't make any of it anymore. These trees, these bushes, these flowers."
Mirabel looked around. "You're right. This is a very difficult time for you."
"How could this happen?" Her eyes were filled with tears and her eyebrows were furrowed. "What caused this? I still don't understand. Why did Casita fall apart when you yelled at Abuela? I thought the miracle came from the candle."
Mirabel stiffened, every muscle in her body tensing. Her hands clenched at her sides and her shoulders hunched. "I'm not your enemy. I thought we went through this!"
Isabela dashed the tears from her eyes with her fingertips. "I'm not saying you're my enemy. What you said at Antonio's party was true. The magic was always going to disappear. You tried to save it, but you couldn't. You're not the reason this happened." She sobbed with fury. "But I just learned how to use my Gift for myself and then it went away!" She dropped to her knees and pounded the earth with her fists. "No matter how hard I try, I can't get anything to grow! Not even a blade of grass!" She let out a scream. "It's not fair!"
Mirabel's shoulders sagged as she let go of her tension. "No, it's not fair." She sat down on the ground. "And I didn't want it to happen. I didn't want us to lose our home. I didn't want us to lose our miracle." Tears filled her eyes. "And I still don't know where our miracle comes from. No matter how many times Abuela tells the story, it doesn't make any sense. Something has to be missing. Was it an act of…God?" She'd stopped believing in God after she didn't get her Gift. "God wouldn't refuse to give me a Gift. I don't believe it. I'm not saying this magic comes from Satan. I don't believe in him, either. I'm just saying…" She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "I'm exhausted, you're exhausted, and it really hurts right now to do everything right and still lose everything in the end. The villagers helping us rebuild doesn't take away the fact that we lost everything in the first place."
"I had just learned how to let my feelings out." Isabela's voice cracked.
Mirabel got up slowly, putting her glasses back on. "But that's what you haven't lost. You're still letting your feelings out." The weird bubble of pressure in her chest reminded her of when the golden butterflies had swarmed around her and Abuela down at the river.
Isabela unclenched her hands and stared at them. Then she looked at Mirabel. "You're right." She grinned and snarled and lashed out at the ground, punching it and kicking it and screaming. "This sucks! This really, really sucks! I hate it! I hate this right now! I want a bath and I want my hanging bed and I want my flowers!" She threw herself at the ground and rolled back and forth. "I'm not going to hold it in! Everyone's going to give me space to feel my own feelings!"
Mirabel winced at the shrill note her sister's screams took, but she grinned at the same time. "That's right. You deserve space for your own feelings, and no one has the right to take your anger away from you. You don't have to be perfect."
"I'm not going to be perfect ever again! I refuse!" Her dress becoming smeared with grass stains and little twigs getting into her hair underscored her point.
"You never were perfect," Mirabel said. "You were pretending – trying to act like whatever Abuela thought perfection meant. None of us are perfect, ever. You were always just yourself. What changed is that you decided to show me – show us – who you are."
Isabela stopped kicking and punching the ground, and her body shook as she cried. "I want my Gift back – but not if I have to be perfect to earn it. I want to know where the miracle comes from. Can I have a choice? Can I choose not to take my Gift back if the price is too high?"
Mirabel knelt and hugged her. "You're not the first person to say they don't want their Gift back if the price is too high. Tio Bruno doesn't want his Gift back if it's just going to make everyone afraid of him again. You're not alone."
"I wish there was a way to start over."
"Isn't that what this is? Starting over?"
Isabela got up off the ground and pulled Mirabel up with her. She frowned. "But if we're the same old us, then nothing is going to change." She tossed her hair. "Put the same old us in a new house and it becomes the same old house. Houses are made by who is in them. We need to change." Her gaze bored into Mirabel's. "And the first change I want to make is to apologize to you for being so cruel to you for not being perfect. I was so jealous at how easily you showed your imperfections all the time, and I was equally jealous that no one expected you to be perfect. I thought that was an easier life and I was wrong. It took you running away, and thinking you might be dead, for me to think about how hard we made life for you."
Mirabel was so stunned that she couldn't reply. She had never expected Isabela to apologize, even when they were old and gray and had grandkids. "It really hurt," she admitted in a whisper. "It hurt every time you told me I was in the way. It was always when I was most trying to help."
"I've been afraid of Abuela all my life, and I let that make me even crueler," Isabela said, her expression changing to desperation, her chest heaving. "I knew Abuela didn't like you and I knew that if I wanted Abuela to like me, I had to hate you."
Mirabel felt chilly. "I always told myself that Abuela was trying to like me, and I was just so unlikable that she couldn't. If I screwed up less, if I had a Gift, then she wouldn't treat me like –" She took off her glasses and cried.
Isabela hugged her and held her. "I've been an awful older sis. I'll try to do better now. I promise." She hesitatingly stroked Mirabel's hair.
Mirabel clung to her. Why can't Abuela say this? Why can't Abuela do this? Why is it so hard for Abuela to admit her mistakes? "Thank you," she choked out, her throat tight with tears. "That means a lot to me. I just wanted…an older sister…" Then she was digging her fingers into the fabric of Isabela's dress and sobbing out years of repressed pain.
Isabela cried, too. "I don't know what was wrong with me. I was always so angry. This perfection act, it's like a poison. Our grandmother is very, very poisoned. She's very, very sick. Sicker than you know." She stroked Mirabel's hair. "We'll do sisterly things all the time, now. We'll make up for lost time. We'll make up for what Abuela did."
"Mom says Abuela hurt her and Tia Pepa and Tio Bruno." Mirabel's chest was heavy.
Isabela's arms tightened around her. "Hurt? Like, hurt them…physically?"
"Mom threatened to slap me yesterday and then apologized this morning and said she didn't want to turn into Abuela," Mirabel whispered.
Isabela tensed. "That's so wrong," she hissed. "I knew Abuela was mean to everyone, but I never thought she was the kind of person who would hit her kids. I thought she felt like words were enough."
"Who is Abuela, anyway? The more I learn, the more I feel like she's a stranger."
"That's kind of true. We're too young to know who she really is," Isabela said. She dried Mirabel's cheeks with her hands and frowned with determination. "We're not going to be deceived any longer. All of Abuela's secrets are going to come out. That's what Tio Bruno's coming home means. I think it's a sign."
xxx
That evening over dinner, the adults of the family all huddled around, minus Bruno and Abuela. Abuela was eating with the Guzmans and Bruno was probably on top of the market building again.
Mirabel ate with her siblings and cousins, for once included by everyone and no longer feeling invisible and unwanted by them. Still, she couldn't help getting distracted and looking at their parents over and over again. Their faces looked serious.
"What're you looking at?" Antonio asked.
Mirabel retrained her attention on him. "Nothing. I was just wondering what our parents are talking about."
"Bruno," Dolores whispered.
"How do you know?"
Dolores shrugged with a habitual little, "Hmm." Then she added, "I can also lip-read."
Isabela tossed her hands in the air dramatically. "What a spy!" She laughed.
"If I still had my Gift, I could pretend to be someone else and work my way close enough to them to hear details," Camilo complained.
Antonio sighed. "If I still had my Gift, I could ask one of my friends to tell me what they're saying."
Mirabel hugged him.
Camilo frowned.
Mirabel rebelliously kissed the top of Antonio's head as she let go. Ugh. There's that frown again. Why does Camilo hate me so much?
At bedtime, Bruno was the last one to join them in the church for the night. He returned to the corner he had staked out. Mirabel was saddened that he wanted to be in the corner instead of with the rest of them.
