Disclaimer: Encanto does not belong to me. This story is not for profit.
Chapter 7
October 23rd
Morning
Abuela entered the church as everyone was preparing to leave for the construction site. Everyone tensed as one, like a single herd facing a threat.
"Madre," Julieta said blankly. Mirabel knew her mother had expected Abuela to give everyone the cold shoulder for at least a week after yesterday's argument.
"I am sorry that I did not join you for dinner yesterday." Abuela spread her hands. "I love you all very much. You know that, don't you?" She gave them a pitiful look.
Julieta spoke first. "Yes, Madre, of course we know that."
Mirabel sucked in all her feelings and shoved them down so that she didn't make any faces. OK, what's the catch? Why the sudden turnaround?
Abuela extended a hand toward Isabela. "And Isabela, mi vida, you are no longer a child, you are a woman. I respect your decisions. You are of course allowed to break off your engagement to Mariano."
Isabela's shoulders relaxed, and she gave Abuela a genuine smile. "Really? You're not mad at me after all? I just want what my parents have."
Abuela nodded and placed her hand over her locket. "Mm-hmm. I chose my Pedro. I could have had anyone in the village – I was quite a beauty – but I had my heart set on him." She lowered her hand. "After a suitable period of time, if you are still not interested in Mariano, you may break off the engagement with no hard feelings on either side."
Mirabel couldn't keep the snarl off her face. I knew it!
Isabela's smile faltered and died. "I – ah – I know that I am not interested in Mariano, Abuela."
"I know you think that now, but you need to give the young man a chance," Abuela said. "The Guzmáns and the Madrigals have been friends for as long as I can remember. A sudden refusal with no explanation is sure to offend Benita Guzmán. Mariano is the apple of her eye, the joy of her life. And he has chosen you, mi vida. You should be honored."
Isabela forced a sickly smile. "I am, Abuela. I am honored that Mariano would consider me. But that's not the same thing as being in love with him."
"Love will come," Abuela said earnestly.
All emotions except disgust seeped out of Mirabel's awareness. "OK, stop," she said, holding up her hand.
Abuela looked at Mirabel with wide-eyed innocence. "What is it, Mirabel?"
"Isabela already said no," Mirabel said.
Isabela froze.
Abuela gave Mirabel a blank look.
Mirabel frowned, then smirked. "You're acting like yesterday never happened."
Abuela drew himself up with an expression of dignity, lifting her chin. "I am aware of what transpired yesterday. After sleeping on it, I know that cooler heads have prevailed." She smiled at Isabela. "On both sides. We are having dinner with the Guzmáns tonight to smooth everything over."
Her airy tone of complacent finality made Mirabel grind her teeth. "You're going to smooth Isabela right out of existence."
"Mirabel, that was rude," Julieta said.
Mirabel turned to her. "But, Mamá –"
Julieta turned a calm smile on her mother. "There has to be a nicer way to tell you that Isabela doesn't feel respected right now. She is an adult, Madre, but she is also my daughter, and will never not being that. And I can see that right now, my daughter needs my help to help you hear what she is saying. My daughter is an intelligent woman who knows herself. She doesn't need any longer to know whether she can love Mariano. She already knows. They aren't a match. I know that is disappointing for you, Madre."
"The people who will be most disappointed are Benita and Mariano Guzmán," Abuela said with a half-lidded expression of disapproval.
"I am sorry, but disappointments are a part of life," Julieta said in the same gentle tone.
"Señora Guzmán will be more than disappointed if we cancel this dinner," Abuela said, her tone sharpening.
"Then I will speak with Señora Guzmán myself," Julieta said. "Madre to Madre. Surely she will understand."
"You can speak to her at dinner when Isabela apologizes to Mariano for being too hasty in breaking off their engagement!"
"Isabela has the right to change her mind. Even if it were ten minutes before the wedding ceremony, or thirty seconds, or two, or one, she would still have the right to decide not to marry Mariano," Julieta said. Her calm tone increasingly had an undertone of tension. "Madre, I think that you are not being as reasonable as you could be to Isabela, and I think you are making this about yourself. Perhaps not intentionally, but you are."
"What horrid accusations," Abuela said in a tone as if she were going to cry.
Julieta's lips quivered, and her eyes widened slightly, but she otherwise did not show her emotions.
Mirabel was silent with amazement, watching the two of them duke this out.
Isabela stepped in. "Actually, Abuela, Mariano understands. I don't think you understand, but Mariano has been very understanding. And I don't want this dinner to confuse him, lead him on, or make him angry. What Mariano probably needs is space, not to see me the same week I broke off our engagement."
"Isabela, what you need to do is not give his passions a chance to cool," Abuela said. "Trust me, a man like Mariano is worth chasing after. If you apologize now, you can still have him. There is no one in the Encanto who is a better match –"
"He doesn't even know me!" Isabela cried out, gesturing with both hands, schooled prettiness forgotten.
"Then give him a chance to know you! I know he will love you. He will love you as much as I do."
"I have a headache," Bruno announced. His voice cut through the church, even though he hadn't raised his voice, and everyone went silent instantly.
Abuela took a step toward him. "Is it a vision coming? Oh, what am I saying? Our miracle is gone." When he didn't flee, she crossed the room to him and took his hand. "Brunito, how much does it hurt?"
"I think I need to sit down," Bruno said.
Mirabel watched with wide eyes. It's like she forgot all about Isabela.
Julieta motioned at Isabela frantically. Isabela ran to her mother. "We are going to speak to Señora Guzmán, Madre."
"About the dinner? Yes, good idea," Abuela said without taking her eyes off Bruno. Her tone was uninvested and distracted.
Julieta took Isabela's hand and led her daughter out of the church.
Mirabel glanced from this to Abuela and Bruno. Abuela was bent over a sitting Bruno, still seemingly absorbed in her son's condition. "Do we need to call a doctor?" Abuela asked.
"It couldn't hurt," Bruno said. He grimaced. "I'm getting dizzy. I think this is a gonna be a real bad one."
Mirabel was confused. Is his headache real, or is he causing a diversion to stop the argument? Tio Bruno, is this how you tried to hold the family together before? By getting headaches?
Pepa hovered nearby uncertainly.
Abuela glanced at her. "Pepa, a doctor."
"Yes, Madre!" Pepa ran out of the church, disappearing with such speed that Mirabel suspected her aunt was relieved to be dismissed under the pretext of fetching the doctor. The village still had an elderly doctor from before the Encanto had been created. He was about Abuela's age.
Abuela knelt and guided Bruno to lie down.
Antonio silently ran forward and put a pillow under Bruno's head, watching everything unfold with wide eyes.
"Thank you, Tonito," Abuela murmured. "How considerate."
"Is he going to be OK?" Antonio asked.
"I hope so," Abuela said. She looked at Bruno with sorrow that was either real or very skillfully faked.
Félix came over and picked up Antonio, hugging his son. "Let's all try to be very quiet, OK?"
Antonio nodded.
Abuela patted Bruno's hand with her free hand. "Living in the walls. Brunito, what were you thinking? Ay, the damage that must have done to your health."
"Can't…can't really hear you. Head's pounding too hard," Bruno whispered.
"We'll talk another time," Abuela promised.
Mirabel resisted the urge to rub her eyes and clean her glasses. Tio Bruno has got to be faking. Right? The timing is too perfect. She glanced at the open church door with a frown. Unless stress brings it on. Then I totally believe he has a splitting headache. Why wouldn't Abuela leave Isabela alone? She crept over to where her dad stood. "Papá," she hissed. "Is Tio Bruno –"
Agustín shushed her, then put an arm around her. "I saw this all the time," he whispered in her ear. "Your tio will be OK. I wish he still had his room. He needs to rest somewhere away from other people. I don't know how we're going to manage. Maybe one of the church offices?" He squeezed her. "But I promise, this is just a normal part of living with Bruno."
Mirabel frowned, but she didn't pull away. While she hadn't entirely forgiven her dad for treating her like an enemy when she'd had a disagreement with her mom, at the moment he was trying to comfort her.
Pepa returned with Dr. Herrera, who carried his black doctor's bag and wore his beaten up fedora. His suit was out of style and had been fitted for a younger him, so the shoulders were too broad. He had shrunk with age. His salt-and-pepper mustache contrasted with his iron gray hair. His features could have been fierce, but he had the kindest eyes. He always smelled a little of cigar smoke. "Well, well, well, what's this, Bruno? Your headaches are back?"
"Hi, doc," Bruno whispered. "Sorry…can't hear you. If you're asking how I feel, I feel terrible. Head's pounding. I'm seeing lights. Can't stand up."
Dr. Herrera went through the comforting motions of taking Bruno's pulse, listening to his heart and his breathing with a stethoscope, and taking Bruno's temperature with his glass thermometer. "Temperature's good," he said, shaking the thermometer back down – it had mercury inside – and cleaning it with alcohol. "Pulse is high." He felt Bruno's temples, lightly massaging. "Muscles here are tight." Then he stepped back, got a sleeping mask out of his bag, and fitted it over Bruno's head. "To block out the light with." He gave Bruno two little white tablets with a sip of water. "That's for the pain. Try to rest." He glanced at the rest of the Madrigal family. "Make sure he does. No strain. Also, he has signs of malnutrition and dehydration. Get him to drink more, at least. Plenty of fluids."
Then he tipped his hat and was on his way.
"Can't – Can't do the dinner tonight," Bruno whispered, squeezing Abuela's hand. "Can't bear not to be there, either. Please, Mama. Postpone dinner with the Guzmáns. I wanna…I wanna be part of the family again."
Abuela made a little noise a cross between a sob and a whimper. "You are part of the family, Brunito. You will always be my Brunito. I am so sorry how things have turned out between us. I didn't mean it to be this way. Please forgive me."
"Can only kind of hear you, Mama. I love you."
Tears dripped down Abuela's cheeks. "Someone, please deliver the message to Señora Guzmán that Brunito is too unwell for the dinner party. We will eat at the Guzmán's some other time. When Brunito is up to it."
"Julieta has already gone to tell them that," Pepa said.
"Oh, yes. That's right. Julieta is taking care of it." Abuela's shoulders slumped. "I am so sorry, Brunito."
Mirabel thought she was going to develop a headache. I can't tell how much of what I'm seeing is real and how much is acting. She remembered Bruno's claim to her inside the walls of the former Casita that he used to say his real Gift was acting.
"Don't cry, Mama," Bruno said softly. "I can hear it. Please don't cry. Be strong for the Encanto. It's only a little headache. Tell – Tell the village I'm fine. Really. I just need a little rest. Maybe – a little – little rest today. I'll be fine tomorrow. I'm almost sure of it."
"We will all take turns watching over you," Abuela said. "Oh, how I wish that we still had our miracle. I don't understand why it left…but I know it has something to do with me. Why was I deemed unworthy? I carried the miracle so long. And then…"
"Miracle? What about a miracle?" Bruno asked.
Abuela squeezed his hand again. "Nothing." She let go of his hand and stood. "You are right. I need to be brave. Even if I don't feel it on the inside, I need to be strong for the village. They mustn't see us further weakened." She wiped her cheeks quickly and composed her expression.
As she turned to leave, she looked at Mirabel as if noticing Mirabel for the first time. "Mirabel, please look after your uncle. I'd like you to take the first shift."
"I'm glad to, Abuela," Mirabel said. "Because I'm worried about Tio Bruno, too. He spent too long inside the walls."
Abuela nodded and left the church, probably headed for the construction site.
"I suppose we need to decide who goes in what shift," Agustín said.
"Oh, uh, no, that won't be necessary," Bruno said.
"You can hear us?" Félix asked.
"It's my eyes that're covered, not my ears," Bruno said. "Madre's gone. There's no need to pretend I can't hear her."
Agustín gave a start. "What? All this time, you've been –"
Camilo burst out laughing. "Tio, I seriously thought you couldn't hear her! You've got to teach me how to do that."
"Believe me, kid, this ruse took a lifetime."
"Then there is no headache," Félix said.
Bruno winced. "Yes, there is. My head's killing me. Oh, uh, not literally, Antonio. It's an expression. It means something hurts. A lot. But hearing loss was never part of my headaches. I just made that up to get my mother to stop talking to me when I already don't feel good."
"We'll keep your secret," Dolores said.
"Yes," Antonio said quickly.
Agustín came over and sat next to Bruno with a sigh. "Thank you. You saved Isabela for us. I should have spoken up, and instead I left it all to Julieta. What kind of father am I? Maybe I really am spineless."
"Papá, I never said you were spineless," Mirabel said, following him. She knelt at Bruno's side. "Um, I'm not trying to be mean or rude, I promise, but I've got to know. Did you get a headache on purpose?"
"Unfortunately, I can't have a headache on command," Bruno said. "This isn't going to work as a way to protect Isabela. Somehow, we have to get Madre to accept that Isabela doesn't want to marry Mariano."
"I think Julieta and Isabela are working on that right now," Pepa said. "If I don't miss my guess, Julieta is going to try to postpone this dinner indefinitely."
"Good for them," Bruno said in a heartfelt tone of relief. "It's about time that we started standing up to Madre and living our own lives."
"Perhaps it's overdue," Pepa admitted.
"Only perhaps?" Bruno asked.
Pepa nodded and swept a loose lock of hair away from her face. "It's long overdue. I'm sorry, Bruno. Things didn't get better with you gone, no matter what you thought. I missed you. Without you, it was just –" She glanced over her shoulder, seeming to remember suddenly that she had an audience. She forced a smile and returned her gaze to her brother. "Hard. That's all. It was hard."
"Then you forgive him about ruining your wedding day?" Camilo asked.
"I never said he ruined it," Pepa said quickly. "I said I had things under control until he suggested it was going to rain." She met Félix's gaze for a moment and then cringed. "All right, it probably wasn't what you said, hermano. It was probably going to end up raining anyway." She petted her hair. "For once, just once, I wanted to pull something off perfectly in front of Mama, and I – I felt sabotaged."
"I guess it was my wishful thinking that you'd stop trying to please her," Bruno said. "She can't be pleased. She hates it. Or acts like she does. It's like she hates being happy. I don't know. I never figured it out." He took Pepa's hand and squeezed it.
Pepa looked at Mirabel. "You know, you're a lot like Bruno used to be. Before he gave up and Madre turned him into a nervous wreck."
Agustín hugged Mirabel. "And that's not a bad thing. I don't want you to think that I ever thought it was a bad thing that you turned out to be a lot like your tio. It's that independent streak. It's who you are. And who you are is wonderful."
Mirabel wished she could believe her parents really felt that way. They demonstrated that they knew it was right for them to love and accept her, but she didn't think they could actually do it with their hearts. The only person who had ever accepted her with their heart was Bruno. "Tio Bruno…Papá says you need to be able to rest away from other people. Is that true?"
Bruno hesitated for a moment, then said, "It's probably for the best."
"I'll go find Father Agudelo and ask him for his permission," Pepa said. She squeezed his hand and then let go, standing and shaking out her skirts. "Don't try to move around."
Bruno groaned. "I won't. The idea makes me nauseous."
xxx
Father Agudelo set up a cot for Bruno in the records office of the church, which was away from the other rooms and the nave where the Madrigals currently slept. The room had no windows. Windows would let in natural light that might harm the precious documents stored here. Other than a single candle, with the door closed, there was no light. The candle was an accommodation for whoever watched over Bruno, and in case Bruno felt better or needed to use the bathroom, which was down the hall.
Mirabel sat on a folding chair nearby. The light was too dim for her to read or knit, and she tried to be quiet because everyone else had been trying to be quiet around Bruno's migraines.
Bruno himself broke the silence. "It's going to be really awkward if you don't talk to me the whole time you're here."
Mirabel shot to her feet, startled, and then settled back down on the chair. "Sorry. I thought you were…sleeping?"
"Can't sleep. Too much pain."
Mirabel cringed. "Oh. Sorry."
"You're a good kid."
Mirabel didn't know what to do with that. Her mom and dad always told her she had nothing to prove and that they loved her, and she was smart and talented in non-magical ways, but no one had ever precisely told her that she was 'good'. She let out a small, awkward laugh. "I mean…"
"You've been trying to take care of the family in my absence. That used to be my job. I'm sorry it fell on you at such an early age. That wasn't fair. Five years old is way to young to…to…be tasked with keeping everyone happy."
Mirabel shifted a little. The folding chair wasn't as comfortable as she would have liked. "But if I was too young to be doing it, then when you started, you were definitely too young. It was just you and Tia Pepa and Mamá and Abuela back then."
"Well, in the beginning, it was kind of everyone's job to keep Mamá happy." Bruno's face was unreadable, but his voice was strained. "She'd lost Papa, and we were in a brand new world, this Encanto, a place Mama insisted was safe, but we didn't really know, and there's some pretty dense jungle around here. There was malaria sometimes, and that took a lot of lives, before Julieta had her Gift and before Pepa's Gift rearranged things and got rid of the swamp."
"What's malaria?" Mirabel asked.
Bruno smiled. "You see? You don't even know. That's good. That means it stopped." He paused. "Malaria is an illness you catch from stagnant pools of water. See, that's where mosquitos live. And mosquitos…they carry this deadly parasite that kills."
Mirabel shuddered. "I had no idea. That's awful."
"Julieta's food can heal it. No ordinary medicine can. And Pepa, Pepa's Gift allowed her to pull all the water out of the swamp and dry it out. No more breeding ground for mosquitos. No more malaria."
Mirabel suddenly looked around the dimly lit room at its rows and rows of filing cabinets. "Wait…what kind of records are these?"
"Oh, birth records, marriage records, death records, anything that people brought with them like that, like their citizenship papers or photos they didn't want to get damaged, baptisms, that sort of thing."
"So…my birth certificate and my baptism would be in here."
"Yup." Bruno paused. "Why?" Now he sounded curious.
Mirabel let out a short laugh and shook her head, leaning back in the chair and trying to find a comfortable position. She gripped the seat of the chair with both hands. "Oh, nothing. I used to have this dumb idea that I was adopted. You know, that Mamá and Papá aren't really my mom and dad, and that's why I'm…" She shrugged uncomfortably and stared at the ceiling. "…normal."
"You're anything but normal," Bruno said with a tone of quiet conviction. "Mirabel, you are exceptional. You just can't see it."
A shudder went through Mirabel as she tried to hold back all the years of bitterness and anger that she'd been covering with toxic positivity. These feelings were still difficult for her to embrace and accept as part of her identity, too. She wasn't full of boundless optimism and limitless love for her family. She had resentments. She had pain. "You're right. If I'm exceptional, if anything about me is more than ordinary, then I can't see it."
"That's really sad. It's like you see everyone clearly but yourself." Silence fell over them for a minute or two. Then Bruno mumbled, "I wish I had a magic mirror, so that when you looked into it, you could see yourself as well as you can see everyone else. It would clear everything up. You'd see."
Mirabel was struck through. Her chest was on fire, and her chin quivered. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," she whispered, her voice scratchy from holding back tears. Mamá's said that she wishes I could see myself the way she sees me, but I don't know…it's different coming from him. Maybe it's because I feel like Tio Bruno understands me, and Mamá doesn't.
"You're not adopted," Bruno said finally. "I think maybe things would be easier – would make more sense – if you were. But I was there when you were born. You came out of Julieta, just like everyone's always said. Sorry, kid."
"It's OK." Mirabel removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes, determined not to cry. "I like being Mamá's kid. I'd hate to have to give it up and figure out who my parents really are."
"Well, adopted kids end up with two sets of parents. They don't give up one set just because they find the other. But I know what you mean. You're trying to find yourself by looking at your family. I think everyone does that, up to a certain age. But when you get to be an adult, I hope you'll be able to understand that your family can't tell you who you are."
"It's not just that Abuela's expectations are too high. It's that she's telling us who we are – even the adults." This revelation was enough to drive off Mirabel's urge to cry.
"Exactly. That's wrong. I figured it out. Adults are supposed to tell themselves who to be. Their mamas can't define them for their entire lives. That's grotesque. Or – or papas, either."
Mirabel put her glasses back on. "Then who are you, Tio Bruno?"
"I'm an actor. A writer. An animal lover. I – my Gift doesn't really have anything to do with me. I worry about the future as much as the next person, but my outlook is that the future will get here when it gets here, and then we'll know. In my experience, getting a preview doesn't do anything except make people anxious. That's why I stopped using my Gift."
"I'm sorry I pressured you."
"It's OK. It was important."
A more comfortable silence fell between them.
"You know, you've seemed a lot less…um, worried, since the house fell down," Mirabel said, idly kicking her legs. She'd never sat still for this long without a sewing needle or knitting needles or a sewing machine.
"Well, I think the anticipation was the hardest part. Every day got a little scarier. I was hoping the cracks would stop one day and that Casita would stop groaning and start acting like herself again. But, uh, instead she fell down. Oops. Still, I think I'm relieved. Or in shock. Whichever it is, it doesn't feel so bad. Yeah, waiting was definitely the worst part."
"Do you think the miracle is capable of coming back?" Mirabel asked in a tiny voice. She only asked because she felt so safe with him. Otherwise, there was no way she would admit to having doubts.
"Your thought about the feelings is a good one. Maybe that is where the light of the candle came from. That would explain why hugging a sister would help a miracle. That would mean it's all our feelings for each other, like, averaging them all into one. That's why my Madre's negative feelings for you, and yours for her, snuffed the candle out – but, but that's not to say that holding in feelings is the answer, because if that were true, the miracle would never have been in danger. Holding in feelings just leads to resentment, and resentment makes it difficult to love somebody, especially the person you're holding in the feelings for, so that's no good. Nope. We'll have to learn to love each other, that's all. If everyone can learn to love each other for real, then the miracle will come back. And – and you can't make people love each other, so there's nothing you can do except try to show them. Which you're already doing. So…you've got to take a back seat on this one and not be so controlling."
Mirabel's shoulders slumped. "You're right. I was trying to control how everyone feels. I thought I was doing it for a good reason, but trying to keep everyone happy is the same thing as trying to force everyone to be happy, and that's like trying to reach inside them and take away who they are and all their rights."
"It's OK. It's not surprising you have control issues. You come from an entire family of people with control issues. Like me. I thought if I did enough spackling, if I did enough to appease the bad luck, then it wouldn't come and hit us. My Gift was seeing the future, but that kind of turned into controlling luck in everyone's minds, including mine. But there was no way to throw enough salt or hold my breath well enough or cross my fingers long enough."
Mirabel got out of her chair, leaned over the cot, and hugged him. "We'll all have to learn how to let go of control."
