Disclaimer: I do not own Encanto. This story is not for profit.
Chapter 15
October 27th
Lying awake after everyone else was asleep, Mirabel gazed at her sleeping family illuminated in the moonlight angling through the church windows and thought about Abuela's apology to the family. It still seemed self-centered, but there was a growing acknowledgement that she had sacrificed closeness in favor of control. Relief and anger warred in Mirabel's chest. She wanted to hug Abuela. She wanted to shun Abuela. The conflicting desires made it difficult to sleep; her mind was too active, too churned up. At least no one told her she had nothing to apologize for. In the end, Bruno had spoken up for everyone's sake and thanked Abuela. That had uncorked Julieta and allowed her to voice her hopes for the future. And then dinner had gone on, relatively silent as everyone ate in earnest.
Mirabel rolled over on her side and closed her eyes, dutifully trying to sleep, talking to herself about the long day ahead. There is still so much work to do, even if Abuela is sincere. Then: How will we know when the miracle comes back?
xxx
After breakfast the village as a whole, Madrigals included, made plans for what to do at the building site today.
Bruno and Dolores discussed building materials. Bruno double-checked that the village had enough soil, clay, and sand in the right ratios to keep making spackle and plaster. Dolores, with her still superior but not magical hearing, was needed to help test the bricks that had been kiln fired. When tapped, correctly fired bricks made a certain sound. Cracked bricks would make a duller sound. Hundreds of bricks, floor tiles, and roof tiles would need to be sound tested.
Luisa was assigned to the transport team bringing more building materials to the site by cart. Antonio volunteered to help, since the carts were drawn by donkeys, and he wanted to help take care of them. Camilo threw himself into the transport team so that he could watch over Antonio.
Félix and Agustín were assigned to the architect team to make sure the blueprints were followed correctly and help measure that the walls were at perfect 90 degree angles and the floor was flat and other such tasks. The hope was that if all Agustín had to do was look at something, he couldn't find a way to injure himself. But they didn't want to single him out, either, thus Félix. Mirabel thought the attempt at sensitivity probably wouldn't work, given that her dad was hyperaware of his own clumsiness, but it was nice to see the family trying to respect each other.
Julieta organized her cooking crew, including Mirabel, Luisa, Isabela, and Pepa. Mirabel and Luisa were put on grocery duty to pick out produce while Julieta, Isabela, Pepa, and the half a dozen other women went ahead to the construction site to set up the outdoor grills and get them hot.
The farmers helped educate Mirabel and Luisa on what good examples of each fruit and vegetable were and what to look for that indicated ripeness. Julieta already knew, but Julieta wasn't here, and it was refreshing for Mirabel to get taught something that 'belonged' to someone else. Because this food was for the whole village, it was donated freely from the harvest, and because of the sheer quantity needed, they loaded up an entire cart and still had a some bags left over.
One of the farmers drove the cart, and Luisa automatically shouldered the four bags of groceries.
Mirabel ran and caught up to her. "I'll help!" She grabbed one of the bags.
Luisa let her have it, probably more out of surprise than anything else. "Thanks. But – uh – I can carry the rest. I'm still pretty strong, even without the magic."
"OK," Mirabel said, giving her sister a wry smile.
They headed out toward the construction site. Mirabel was amused to see little kids splashing in the puddles left by the rain.
They lapsed into silence, but only for half a block.
"I want you to know that I'm grateful for everything you've done for me," Luisa said, talking so quickly that her words almost ran together.
"Huh?" Mirabel met Luisa's gaze with confusion. "I didn't do anything."
"You let me talk to you." Luisa acted like that was the most obvious thing in the world.
Mirabel laughed. "You're my sister."
Luisa shook her head. "No, I mean, really talk to you. About my –" She looked around warily. Then she met Mirabel's gaze again. "Feelings," she whispered, face tense and eyes fearful.
Mirabel felt incredibly sad. "Well, yeah. Everyone has feelings. And it does no good to keep them bottled inside. That just hurts. I don't want you to hurt by keeping them in."
Luisa whimpered, suddenly on the verge of tears, but she didn't cry, and she didn't stop her determined march toward the construction site. But she did spontaneously offer Mirabel a second bag of groceries to carry.
Mirabel accepted with a smile. That's right. I'm part of the family Madrigal.
When they arrived on the construction site, Julieta and the women of the village had already set up the cooking stations.
Julieta hugged her daughters. "Thank you for bringing the groceries." She smiled. "Now, let's get to work." She directed them, teaching as she went. They finished the rice and the soup first and kept them warm. "Mirabel, I've been thinking about our breakfast conversation."
"Yes, Mamá?"
"The side of me I show when I help someone with something, or listen when you tell me something, or when I teach you and Luisa and Isabela how to cook, isn't fake. It is a real part of me. When I say I love all of you, that is real, too."
Mirabel sighed. "I know, Mamá. But I want to know the you that is unique to you." She gestured with a ladle. "You just said you're helpful, and a good listener, and you love us, and you know how to cook. Think of how many mamás and abuelas and hermanas and primas that describes. There are a lot of people who are helpful and good listeners and loving and know how to cook. But there is only one you. What is your favorite thing in the world? What is your least favorite? What makes you angry? What makes you laugh? Thanks to Abuela, you held it all in. I don't know the answers. You didn't want anyone to feel left out, so you made sure not to like or dislike anything, so no one could disagree with you. You held in your anger, because it scares you, and you held in your laughter because you were afraid to offend somebody if they didn't share your sense of humor. But these, likes and dislikes and pet peeves and sense of humor, are part of what make someone unique!"
"Maybe I'm not unique," Julieta suggested a little anxiously.
Mirabel frowned at her. "Yes, you are. Everyone is unique. Everyone is special." She gestured with both hands in frustration. "But if I had to tell someone else about you, to let them know how special and unique you are, I wouldn't know what to say, and that's not fair. I love you. I should be able to tell people more about you than anyone except Abuela and Papá and Tia Pepa and Tio Bruno."
Julieta's hands made a little, fluttering motion. "Maybe it's hopeless. Maybe I spent too long being nothing more than my Gift, nothing more than la madre perfecta, and it's too late to figure out what I would have done instead if I had figured out I was using my Gift as a crutch." She sighed. "I was so concerned with making sure I wasn't like my Madre that all these things you talk about, these likes and dislikes and hobbies, it all fell by the wayside."
"You can go back for it," Mirabel insisted.
Julieta shook her head. "I don't know where to begin. The more I try to think about who I am, the less sure I am."
"Don't think, feel," Mirabel said. She felt the pressure to do anything necessary to help her mother. "Please, Mamá. You can do this."
Luisa came over bearing chopped up chicken for the dish their mother was working on. "It's really hard to let the feelings out, but it feels so good."
Julieta shook her head slowly. "I don't think the feelings you're talking about, how I really feel about everything, are going to come out easily. I honestly can't even feel them. How do I feel about Bruno leaving? I don't know. How do I feel about him coming back? I don't know. I know how I should feel: sad that he was gone, happy that he is back. But I feel as though I'm guessing."
Isabela came over with diced vegetables. "Mamá, I lost track of my feelings, too. When – sorry, Mirabel – when Mirabel invaded my room and then finally had a real fight with me, my feelings came out as a cactus. Maybe you could set aside time and cook the first thing that comes to mind. It might tell you something."
They all cooperated to put together the stir fry, Mirabel adding the seasonings. She had already soaked and chopped the dried chiles.
"I'll try," Julieta murmured.
Mirabel figured that her mother said it only to avoid disappointing them, but right now, she didn't care. Maybe it's not bad to exert this kind of pressure on her. She needs someone to push her in the right direction.
A scream coming from the interior of the nearly complete first floor of the new Casita startled everyone. Three or four village men let off curses that made Mirabel blush. Señor Orozco rushed Agustín over to Julieta, dragging him by the arm. "He cut his hand open on the T-square!"
"What do you expect her to do about it?" Isabela demanded. "We lost our magic!"
"But you still know how to do first aid, don't you?" Señor Orozco asked Julieta.
Agustín was pale. His left hand was covered in blood. "I don't know how I did it. I was trying to be careful, I promise. It just…slipped, and I grabbed it, and…"
Julieta was ghastly pale and sweaty. Mirabel didn't understand the look on her mother's face.
Bruno came running. He yanked his hood down and became Hernando. "Out of the way. You there, get a clean towel. Someone boil water. Luisa, get Dr. Herrera. Dolores, get Señora and Señor Navarro. Rápido por favor!"
Mirabel grabbed a clean towel and handed it over when the woman Hernando addressed froze.
Hernando wrapped the clean towel around Agustín's hand and made Agustín sit on the ground with his injured hand elevated. "Keep it elevated and it will bleed less. The town doctor is coming. Deep breaths, cuñado." To Julieta, he said, "Don't look. Isabela, take care of your mother."
Isabela grasped Julieta's shoulders and physically turned her mother away. "It's OK, Mamá. Papá will be OK."
Julieta's shoulders shuddered, and she took a deep breath. "I am so sorry, esposo."
"No, I know how you get," Agustín said. "Please don't apologize."
Mirabel hovered, unsure about what she could or should do. She stayed close to Isabela's side.
Isabela glanced at her and then hissed in her ear, "Mamá is hemophobic."
"What's hemo–"
"Afraid of blood," Isabela said, still whispering.
Mirabel's eyes widened. She looked from their mother to their father. Afraid of blood? But – Mamá heals people all the time! How can she be afraid of blood?
Señora and Señor Navarro and Dr. Herrera arrived with Luisa and Dolores. The doctor uncovered Agustín's injured hand calmly. "Ah, Agustíto, hurt again. That's a nasty laceration. You need stitches." Dr. Herrera sterilized the cut and a needle. The Navarros administered pain medicine straight to the cut and something to make Agustín sleepy enough to not squirm around. Then Dr. Herrera stitched the deep cut with a firm and steady hand. He protected his work with a sterile bandage.
Mirabel watched everything and went to thank her uncle, but he was gone. Huh? When did he leave?
"You can look now, Mamá," Isabela said.
Julieta instantly turned and dropped to her knees, hugging her husband.
He patted her back with his good hand. "It's OK, querida. I feel fine. The doctor fixed me all up."
"Ay, Agustín, what will I do with you?" Julieta asked, probably rhetorically.
"I did try," he protested.
Bruno reappeared, popping up amongst them. "I'll take you back to the church, OK? You can rest there. You can't do anything with the medicine still in your blood." He hoisted his brother-in-law, pulling Agustín's arm over his shoulders and holding it there by the wrist. His other arm wrapped around his waist. "I'll support you. Here we go. I'm stronger than I look."
"Yeah, living inside the secret passages in Casita made him super athletic," Mirabel said at her mother's doubtful expression. "I saw it myself. I thought I was fit, but I couldn't keep up with him."
At lunchtime, Mirabel volunteered to be the one to bring food to Bruno and her father. Luisa was obviously worried, but seemed to think if she left the construction site that she would get in trouble, even if it was to check in on her own father. Mirabel promised to find Luisa and let Luisa know how their dad was doing.
Mirabel worked the church door open with a plate in each hand, propped it open briefly with her butt, and slid inside. "Papá, Tio Bruno, Mamá sent lunch," she called. The church door shut behind her, also announcing her presence.
The nave seemed empty. Mirabel walked through it carefully, remembering that under stress, Bruno sometimes liked hiding places. But the nave of the church really was deserted. Mirabel walked down the hall to the records room and called, "It's me, Papá, Tio Bruno. Mamá sent lunch."
Bruno opened the door. "I put him on the cot. He sh-shouldn't be on the floor." He backed up and allowed Mirabel to enter. A few candles were lit for light to see by. Bruno shut the door.
Agustín lay on the cot with a few pillows propped up behind him to create a semi-sitting posture. The arm his injured hand was attached to was in a makeshift sling. "Mi vida, a welcome sight. That smells delicious."
Mirabel approached and put the plate on his lap. She handed off the other plate to Bruno. "Why is your arm in a sling? It's just your hand. Right?"
"Your tio did this. It's to keep me from moving my arm around and accidentally whacking my injured hand into things. It's genius, really. So true that I'll probably try to pick things up with my injured hand, or worse, if my arm isn't in a sling." Agustín ate carefully with his good hand.
"How does your hand feel?" Mirabel asked.
"Oh, he'll be fine for a few more hours before the pain starts creeping in," Bruno said. "The Navarros used a topical application of coca leaf extract to numb up his hand for the stitches." He gave Agustín a look. "The bigger issue is that they were so afraid of him moving around and spoiling things that they gave him their patented sleepy juice."
"Sleepy juice?"
Bruno smiled tiredly. "Before your time. We used to need a way to get people relaxed or even to go to sleep so that we could set bones and do major stitches, that sort of thing. As Julieta's powers grew, we needed the sleepy juice less and less, until the villagers aged and they started needing small doses to go to sleep at night with their chronic aches and pains and arthritis bothering them."
"I feel fine," Agustín said.
Bruno glanced at him, caught him before he spilled food down the front of his shirt, and started patiently feeding Agustín, handing off his plate to Mirabel. "Here."
"I don't need help," Agustín said.
"You always need help. That's one reason Julieta got married to you. She loves being needed."
"Not lately," Agustín said morosely.
Mirabel suddenly felt like an intruder. "Um." She set down Bruno's plate on the nearest surface. "I'll tell Luisa you're feeling OK. Bye!" She ran out of the room, down the hall, through the nave, flung the door open, and exited out into the fresh air. Mamá doesn't love Papá anymore?
After she'd gone a couple blocks, she calmed down enough to go over that unexpected turn in the conversation again. No, that's not what Papá said. He said Mamá doesn't love it anymore that he needs her all the time. Still… She gripped her bag strap. I don't want to think about this! I don't want to think about my parents having problems.
When she made it back to the construction site, she went up to Luisa first. "Papá says he's OK, and Tio Bruno said the pain medicine the Navarros put on the cut should last a little while longer."
Luisa looked relieved. Her shoulders relaxed. "Oh, good. It scares me when Papá gets hurt. I can't kill or destroy whatever hurts him. That wouldn't leave anything in the whole Encanto. He hurts himself on pieces of paper. I can't just destroy all paper. His own shoes might trip him and hurt him. He still needs shoes. So I don't know what to do." She sighed.
"I guess the only thing you can do is let go of the idea that the reason you're here is to protect him," Mirabel said.
Luisa winced. "Y-Yeah."
Maribel felt uneasy again. If this is how Luisa feels, how does Mamá feel? Sometimes Papá can't manage to stay healed for more than an hour. I can't even remember the last time he went a whole day without getting hurt somehow.
Julieta came up to her daughter, drying her hands on her apron. "Well? How is he?" She gave Mirabel a hopeful smile.
"Papá's fine," Mirabel said quickly.
Her mother's brow furrowed gently. "There's something you're not telling me, isn't there?"
Mirabel ducked her head, feeling like Luisa. She squeezed her mother's forearm, led her mother away from the others, and looked around fearfully, wanting to make sure they weren't overheard if she was going to dare to ask this question. "Do you and Papá have…marital problems?" she whispered.
"What? No! Who told you that?" Julieta whispered in return, also looking around fearfully before locking gazes with Mirabel.
"Tell me the truth." Mirabel felt a tearing sensation in her chest. "Please. I'm old enough to know. I'm 15. I'm not a little girl anymore."
"My Papá died three months after I was born. How am I supposed to know what a good marriage looks like?"
Mirabel's eyes widened. That's right. She's never seen Abuela with…anyone. She finally realized how weird it was that Abuela hadn't simply gotten remarried.
Julieta's shoulders trembled. "Sure, your Papá and I don't look like his Papá and Mamá together, but what does that mean? Mis suegros were nice people, but we are not them, we are different people. So we look different together. That is what I keep telling myself. But –" Her expression froze. "Was your Papá the one to bring this up?"
Mirabel cringed. She had the feeling that her Papá was in trouble and it was her fault. "Not exactly? I mean…" She fiddled with her skirt. "Not directly." Her shoulders tensed as she looked away. "It was just…something he said, and the way he said it."
Julieta clamped her mouth shut and breathed in deeply through her nose. She looked furious. Slowly, she exhaled. "I see. Well, that was very inappropriate of him, mi vida. What is between him and me is between him and me, and it shouldn't have anything to do with you. Or Luisa. Or Isabela." Her voice dropped to an almost imperceptible mutter. "¡Dios mío! Thank god Dolores has lost her hearing." She shook her head. "Mamá would be at my throat in an instant for setting a bad example. That is the last thing we need."
She smiled brightly and gripped Mirabel's shoulders, making Mirabel jump slightly. "Everything is fine between me and your Papá. Do you understand?" Her eyes pleaded with Mirabel.
Mirabel got the message: keep this from other members of the family. "Yes, Mamá." What if others find out anyway?
Julieta relaxed halfway and released Mirabel. She cupped Mirabel's cheek. "The man adores having daughters, doesn't feel bothered by my status in the village compared to his, and has withstood Mamá all these years. As far as I'm concerned, he is the perfect man."
Mirabel thought she was probably going to get in trouble, but she opened her mouth anyway. "Then maybe tell him that?"
Julieta didn't look angry, only stunned. She gave Mirabel a quick hug. "Will you ask Luisa to please take over my role for a little while? I've got to stop by the church."
Mirabel grinned, relieved. "Sure, Mamá. We'll hold down the fort. You've taught us a lot in the past few days. You can count on us!"
"Thank you. Thank you so much." Julieta picked up her skirts and ran into the village.
Luisa came over. "Where is Mamá going in such a hurry?"
"She forgot something she needs to tell Papá, and it's adult stuff." Mirabel shrugged as nonchalantly as she could, keeping her facial expression casual.
"Oh. Well…is it bad?"
Mirabel shook her head. "I don't think so." She turned to Luisa with a grin. "The best part? We're in charge until she comes back."
Luisa brightened. "Really? Mamá said that?"
"She sure did!"
Luisa hugged Mirabel. "That's great! This is a chance to prove myself." She recruited Isabela and Mirabel as her seconds in command and coordinated the village women in whipping up dinner for the village with a passion, exuding a natural confidence that Mirabel had never seen before. It was totally different than her fake confidence in her super strength.
When their mother returned an hour later, she said breathlessly, "I'm sorry that I took so long."
Luisa turned to her with a grin. She held a whisk, having just scrambled some eggs. "That's OK. We've got this."
Julieta looked around at the coordinated, busy cooking stations with an expression of wonder. Then she flung herself at Luisa and hugged her tightly.
Mirabel glanced over with a grin from where she stirred a pot of stew.
xxx
At dinner, Abuela chose to interrogate everyone one by one again, but this time, the family was ready. Mirabel noticed that no one had anything to say about their day except the good parts.
After dinner, Bruno slipped away, and Mirabel followed him, curious. Bruno climbed the market tower. Mirabel made it up after him by herself, remembering how he taught her the way. She sat down next to him, but not close. "I'm worried about you. Are you OK?"
"Just need some quiet. And some air." Bruno petted one of his rats. "You can be here. I don't mind." He paused. "You're not like the others."
Mirabel was flattered. She smiled and enjoyed the night air and the stars visible against the sapphire sky. It wasn't yet fully dark, but the sun had gone down.
Bruno eventually patted the roof beside him.
Mirabel took him up on the invitation and scooted closer to him, until there were only about six inches between them.
"What about you? You ran out of the church this afternoon like you were going to puke. I should've asked you how you are about injuries."
Mirabel shook her head. "It isn't that. Also, how come Mamá is afraid of blood? When did that start?"
Bruno shrugged. "Who knows? Phobias are rarely straightforward. A crossed brain association, stress, boom, a phobia." He tilted his head. "If it wasn't like Julieta, then what was it?"
"I felt like I was hearing something I shouldn't." Mirabel looked down at her shoes and flexed her feet.
"Huh? Like what?"
"Papá said…he didn't think Mamá appreciated him anymore. Or something like that. I felt like that's what he meant, even if he didn't spell it out."
"He feels sorry for himself sometimes, that's all. It's tough to be a clutz in a family of perfect people." Bruno looked away. "I know the feeling. Before he came along, I was the clumsiest one in the family, and let me tell you, it's not a nice position. I was glad to give it up to him. But also guilty. Because I know the family better than he does, and I was there before he took over, I feel responsible for helping him cope. And, well, we just sort of get along. Mostly."
"I didn't know you got along with Papá," Mirabel said.
Bruno shrugged. "We're both village outcasts. So…it's natural. I was friends with him before Julieta dated him, and honestly, it always felt kind of cheap for her to marry my friend. Like, can't you expand your circle a little more?"
Mirabel winced. "Papá is an outcast?"
Bruno laughed.
"I mean, he's clumsy, but I never thought anyone minded," Mirabel said, deeply uncomfortable and rattled by her uncle's laugh.
"No one will give him a job. No one wants him to mess it up." He smirked. "Like me, and no one wanting my 'help'."
Mirabel felt nauseous to think about the villagers all turning their backs on her Papá when he asked for work. Oh, no. Oh, no, no…The truth slammed into her. I got my drive to prove I'm helpful from both sides! Not only had Abuela always challenging her or criticizing her, not only had Isabela picked on her, but the people in the village had also expected her to prove her worth, too, expected her to prove that just because she didn't get a Gift didn't mean she was exactly like her father. Another thing suddenly clicked with her. "Tio, how come my parents are together? Mamá is always helpful and Papá is never helpful."
Bruno shrugged. "Because opposites attract? That's what they say, anyway. I always thought Agustín was attracted to Julieta because if a woman like Julieta is interested in him, it means that he's not so bad after all. And I thought that Julieta needs to be needed, so the perfect man is someone who will always need her. Makes abandonment impossible, you see." His smile was sickly and pained. "And we're all terrified of abandonment."
Mirabel fiddled with the applique of a butterfly on the shoulder of her blouse. I've got to re-stitch this. A corner is coming loose. "Then…doesn't that mean you kind of got revenge on Abuela by leaving the way you did? Here she was always threatening to leave you, but you're the one who left her."
Bruno looked dumbfounded. Then he laughed. "I guess you're right. I was so terrified of her that I was hiding, but I dealt the harsher blow by getting out of arm's reach. It must have tortured her to have one of her kids abandon her." Slowly, his amusement faded and his brow furrowed. "Oh. It must have tortured her." His eyes widened. "I get it. That's why I got hugged down at the riverside when I came to rescue you from her, when I thought she'd gone there to attack you!"
"And that's why she's trying to be so nice to you," Mirabel said. "She's trying to keep you from leaving again. You proved you can, and you will, so it's a threat that's always hanging over her head."
"I feel bad saying this, but I'm sure I'm safer for it," Bruno said.
"Safer?"
"If she becomes convinced that I'm staying and won't leave again, she'll go back to treating me worse," Bruno said.
Mirabel's stomach plummeted. "Oh. I bet you're right. Because she's abusive. As soon as she thinks she has power over someone, she starts treating them like garbage."
"And such habits are tough to break. Might never be broken. If we want to stay with her, we've got to have as much power – or more power than she does – because when she's in power, she doesn't do anything good with it."
"Love her from a position of power?" Mirabel found that to be a foreign way of thinking.
Bruno patted her shoulder. "Think of it this way, kid: We're trustworthy and we know that. But she isn't, and we know that too. We can be trusted to have power and not abuse it, but she's shown that all she'll do is use her power to hurt people. We have to take the reins in this relationship and set the tone. And you've been doing a fantastic job. Don't let up."
