Ratón didn't get very far, but not for lack of trying.

By the time Mirabel was able to stand up and find her flashlight he'd only made it out to the courtyard. Every time he tried to take a step, Casita's tiles would roll under him, pushing him back, and he was arguing with the house in a loud whisper.

"Esto es una estupidez, Casita, just let me go por favor—"

"You call the house Casita?" Mirabel asked.

Ratón jumped and whirled to face her. "Oh, hey, uh, didn't–didn't see you there," he said, rubbing his neck. "Uh, sí. But I should really be calling it La Casa Traidora!" He shook his fist at the house.

Casita rolled its tiles again in response, knocking him off balance and into Mirabel.

She managed to catch him before he fell and took her with him, and was surprised to feel how thin he was. Due to his height and fur and ruana and just…overall presence, she thought he'd be a bit more substantial. As it stood, she wasn't sure he weighed any more than she did.

He leapt away from her instantly. She held up her hands in apology.

They looked at each other.

"Um," Mirabel said, breaking the silence. "Are you…hungry?" She gestured behind her, toward the front door where she'd left her bag. "I have food."

Ratón sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I…I could eat," he said.

Mirabel nodded. "Great, uh. I'll be right back."

She turned to retrieve her bag, and found it exactly where she'd left it, untouched. But when she returned to the courtyard, Ratón was gone.

"What—" she said, but Casita's tiles tapped her foot again, demanding her attention. The tiles bounced toward another room off the courtyard. Mirabel could see Ratón inside, starting a fire.

He looked up when she entered. She smiled, holding up her bag.

"I have arepas," she said brightly. "And mangoes. Fair warning: the arepas may, uh, be a little bit squished."

"That—that's fine," Ratón said.

He was watching her closely as she sat down on the dusty floor beside the fire and rifled through her bag for the food she had packed before leaving home yesterday.

That realization gave her pause—had it only been a day, truly, since she'd left home? It felt much longer.

The fire popped as Mirabel unwrapped the food and handed Ratón four arepas and a whole mango. He gratefully accepted them, holding the arepas in his hands like a rat would, before turning away from her and eating quickly. She tried not to stare as she ate her own food, but she couldn't help but sneak glances out of the corner of her eye.

So, sue me, she thought. It's not everyday I get to meet a giant talking rat.

It was during one of those furtive glances that she noticed the large tear in the back of his ruana.

"Oh no!" she cried, making him jump. "When did that happen?"

Ratón followed her gaze. "Oh, look at that," he said, twisting to pluck at the rip. "That–that's new."

Mirabel furrowed her brow. "Must have happened when you—"

"Knocked you over?" Ratón asked wryly.

Mirabel rolled her eyes. "I was going to say 'saved me,'" she said. "Thank you, by the way."

Ratón inclined his head but didn't say anything.

"I can fix it," Mirabel said. "I'm a seamstress back home, and I have my sewing kit with me—"

"No–no, it's fine, Mirabel—" Ratón was already interjecting, holding up his hands. "Really, you don't have to—"

"No, I want to!" Mirabel said with a smile. "Honestly, it would be my pleasure. As a way to say thank you."

"It's really no trouble," Ratón said. He rapped his knuckles against the stone floor.

"It's really no trouble for me to fix it, either. It'll probably take me, what, fifteen minutes at most? C'mon, Ratón, you can't wear something ripped like that, it'll only get worse."

"Watch me," Ratón muttered, but he was already pulling the ruana over his head. He passed it to her, around the fire, and without it he seemed a little less imposing—just tall instead of tall and broad. His clothes underneath were looking a little worse for wear, Mirabel noted, but she wasn't about to make him take everything off just so she could inspect it.

The ruana had definitely been green once, a long time ago, but the fabric was now severely faded. Except for the dust from their earlier adventure, however, it looked to be well-maintained. It smelled clean at the very least. As she took out her sewing kit and dug through it for a thread that matched, she realized that it must mean a lot to him, for him to have kept it for so long, and that he was demonstrating great trust in her by allowing her to do this.

With that in mind, Mirabel threaded her needle and carefully got to work. The only green thread she had was several shades too dark, which irked her, but as the needle moved steadily in and out, in and out, the familiar motion soothed away her irritation.

"So…" Mirabel said, after a moment. "How did you know the ceiling was going to come down?"

Ratón glanced at her nervously. "Oh, uh, Casita-Casita told me. It can't always help it, you know, so when something is-is about to give it'll try to-try to let me know, heh."

Yeah, sure, Mirabel thought. That explanation was fine, but didn't explain the glowing eyes and the fact that he somehow knew before the house started rumbling, but she didn't press him.

"Okay…so, if you don't mind me asking…how long have you been, um." She gestured at him vaguely. "Or have you always…?"

"Oh, uh…no, I was-I was human," Ratón said. He laughed, but it sounded hollow. "Guess this is what happens when you tangle with brujas—"

"Witches? Ow—!" Mirabel yelped, stabbing herself with her needle. She shook her hand, staring at him with huge eyes.

Ratón looked like he wanted to crawl into the nearest hole. "Just-just one, actually…but I don't—I don't really want to-to talk about—" He shifted and in the light from the fire Mirabel could see something metal wrapped around his left ankle before he curled his long tail around himself, hiding it from view.

Mirabel felt sick. "Oh, Dios, por supuesto," she stammered. She returned to her sewing, refusing to look at him. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't've—"

"No, it's-it's fine," Ratón said. He snorted. "Can't fault you for being curious—a giant rat living in your-your family's magic house, heh. Can't be too common."

Mirabel smiled despite herself.

"So, your family…is it just you, or do you have any siblings…cousins…?" Ratón asked, picking up the mango she'd given him and rolling it between his palms.

"I have two older sisters," Mirabel said, grateful for the subject change. "And three primos. I was—I was traveling to their farm, actually, before I came here. Dolores, my prima, she's getting married in a few days." She rolled her eyes. "You should hear her ramble on and on about Mariano and his poetry and his flowing hair—"

"You don't like him," Ratón said drily.

Mirabel laughed. "No, he's fine—perfectly nice and definitely handsome. But Dolores got so over-the-top in her letters that even Luisa started skimming them. And she's always been a diehard romantic."

Ratón snorted, his whiskers twitching in amusement. "Who's Luisa?"

"My sister," Mirabel said. Her needle went in and out. "I have two older sisters: Isabela and Luisa, and three cousins: Dolores, Camilo, and Antonio. Dolores is Isa's age, Milo's my age, and Toñito just turned eight. They wanted to come with me, but we couldn't all go without our parents finding out. I mean, the only reason I could get away is because mis padres are Dolores' godparents, so they had to leave for the farm early, and Pá needed someone to stay behind and finish some things up at the shop, so I volunteered.

"I was supposed to leave on Wednesday, but I got someone to cover for me and left two days earlier than planned. I wanted to come here," she said, gesturing around her. "And see the Encanto for myself. My hermanas y primos were so jealous when I told them," she added. "They'd give anything to be here. And Antonio would have loved to meet you. He's such an animal guy, uh—I mean, no offense."

Ratón waved his hand dismissively. "I'm not so sure about that," he said. "But he'd probably get along with Gabriela and Enrique and the others alright."

Mirabel frowned. "Others?"

"The other rats," Ratón said, drawing himself up a little. "The, hm, normal ones. You met one already—the rogue, Hernando. He, uh, was the one on the piano."

"Ooooh," Mirabel said, recalling. "Can you…talk to them?"

"Sure," Ratón said, shrugging. "I mean, I don't speak rat, if that's what you're asking, not like Antonio, but they tend to follow me around anyway. Probably think I'm some sort of super rat, or–or something." He chuckled.

"Right…" Mirabel said. She finished her last stitch, tying it off and clipping the thread with her scissors. The rip was still noticeable, because of the color, but at least he could wear the ruana without risking it falling to pieces.

"Wow, you did that quick," Ratón said, impressed.

"It's a gift," Mirabel sighed, flipping her hair.

"Hmm."

Mirabel stood and walked around the fire to hand the ruana back to him, and he slipped it on, giving it a once-over.

"You can't even tell," he said, sounding genuinely pleased. "Thank you, Mirabel."

"Of course," Mirabel said. "It's the least I could do." A yawn caught her off guard, all the exhaustion from her early morning and the long day rapidly catching up with her. What time was it?

"Ay, you should—you should get some sleep," Ratón said, standing. "Wait here."

Before Mirabel could say anything, he disappeared into the darkness beyond the light of the fire. He was only gone a moment and returned with several blankets in his arms.

"You'll want to sleep by the fire," he said, spreading one of the thicker blankets out on the floor, and arranging the others to make a sort of bed for her. "It can get a little cold at night. I'll, uh, I'll keep it going until I go to bed."

Mirabel watched him fuss about with the blankets, oddly touched by the gesture. "Thanks," she said softly. "You really don't have to, if you're tired—"

"No, no, it's fine," Ratón said. He looked away, sheepish. "I don't—I don't sleep much anyway." He stepped away from the blankets.

Mirabel yawned again.

"I'll just be over there," Ratón said, gesturing vaguely into the dark. "If you need anything."

Mirabel nodded. "You really didn't need to—"

"Mirabel," Ratón said, cutting her off. "You are…the first person I've spoken to in a—in a very long time. Believe me, this is the least I could do." He sighed and turned away. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Ratón," Mirabel said, and then he was gone.

She took off her glasses and settled into the blankets, trying to get comfortable on the hard floor. She stretched out a hand and patted one of the tiles.

"Goodnight, Casita," she whispered. The tile shifted slightly under her hand and she smiled.

It wasn't until she was almost completely asleep that it occurred to her: wait…how did Ratón know about Antonio's Gift?

But before she could follow that train of thought to its conclusion, exhaustion overtook her and she was asleep.


Translations:

1. Esto es una estupidez - This is stupid

2. La Casa Traidora - Traitor House

3. Dios, por supuesto - God, of course