Chapter 2: Strength
63 years before Encanto
"Mama said not to go downtown." Ramona sighed.
Alma glanced back at her sister, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"Mama doesn't need to know."
Cora giggled, her hand slipping into Alma's as they skipped ahead. Ramona watched them, slowly shaking her head before following begrudgingly.
"Come on," Alma called over her shoulder, long hair flowing loosely as they walked. "We got dressed up, we might as well enjoy it."
"You guess which one has the coin, you win." The villager explained, gesturing to the three overturned cups at his stall.
Alma and Cora leant in, excited eyes examining closely.
"Hard to say." Cora whispered, but Alma rushed it, feeling competitive energy rise within her.
"That one." She pointed to the left cup with a sure tone.
The villager began to shift them, scraping fast circles around the table. Alma's eyes followed quickly, then she smiled as he stopped. She went to point out the cup, but Ramona interrupted.
"None of them, Almita." Her tone was dry from where she stood, arms crossed and body leaned against the stall. "He swiped the coin off the bench."
The villager frowned, opening his mouth to protest, but Alma snatched up the cups to be sure.
"No coin." Cora seemed disappointed. She liked to see the best in people.
"Cmon." Ramona sighed, but Alma was stubborn.
"Again." She insisted, still holding the cups. The villager scowled and reached for them, but Alma stood her ground, determined for a fair chance.
"Look kid, I'm just trying to make a coin." He sighed.
"You lied." Alma frowned. "Give us another go."
"One time only."
Alma's eyes flashed as furious energy rose within her.
"You cannot do that to us!" Alma was shouting now. Cora flinched, while Mona just rolled her eyes. They were both used to Alma's quick temper. "I don't know why you think you can just trick us like that, but you will make it right!"
"Show's over, kid." The villager insisted. "Throwing a tantrum's not gonna change that."
Alma shouted some more, cursing as her sisters dragged her away.
They headed off, Alma grumbling between them.
"Oh come on, hermana." Mona laughed, nudging her. "How many times have you tricked people?"
"When we pretend to be eachother." Cora reminded her with a knowing smile, "Swapping places, hm?"
"Hm." Alma couldn't help but smile at the memories. There were definitely advantages of being an identical triplet.
"Deep breaths." Ramona tried, but Alma shot her a look.
"Don't you start." Alma muttered.
"Look." Cora's face lit up as she spotted musicians ahead playing in the square, people gathered around and dancing.
They hurried over, laughing as they danced together. As they moved to the rhythm, Alma felt the last of her anger melt away. She exhaled, glad to be rid of it. She'd never admit it, but Alma didn't like when she got angry. It reminded her too much of Mamá.
It started to rain and the musicians packed up, the townsfolk groaning in protest as the party began to dwindle. Alma threw a hand to express her disappointment, the three of them heading to a covered area to sit down.
Cora stayed out in the rain, smiling as she held out her arms and leaned back to feel the rain on her face.
"They're actually so beautiful." Cora called to them, her eyes on the clouds.
Alma watched her sister adoringly. Cora loved the clouds, and the rain. She would often go out to dance in it, when she knew Mamá wasn't watching. Sometimes she'd stay out till she was sopping wet and shivering, but she never seemed to mind.
"They're so pretty, don't you think?" Cora admired the clouds. "I think it's heaven's way of sending us love."
"Or it's heaven crying." Ramona sighed, "Because now the party's over, and we have to go home to Mamá."
"That's true." Alma smiled in amusement, looking up at the clouds too. Alma was more of a cynic like Mona, though she could appreciate the beauty in what her other sister saw.
"You aren't scared of her?" Cora glanced over at Alma. "Of Mama?"
Alma straightened up, feeling proud as she shook her head. "I'm not scared of anything."
Cora smiled. "I think you're the strongest person I know."
Ramona scoffed. "Wow."
Cora bit her lip, feeling embarrassed, but Alma chuckled, getting up and putting an arm around her sister's shoulders.
"Come on," Alma smiled. "Let's go home."
The sisters spent the afternoon cutting paper together, making chains of different patterns and shapes.
Alma made paper butterflies, because they were her hyperfixation. She'd read all the books she could on them and would talk at length about caterpillars and butterflies and chrysalis to anyone who would listen.
It made it easy for her sisters to find Alma gifts, any clothing or decor with a butterfly on it was an easy win. Alma loved having something she could always turn to, for a never ending source of strength and happiness.
"What is this mess?" Mama came in, eyeing all the paper, then pointed to their wet coats at the door. "Did you go out?"
Ramona went quiet while Cora whimpered softly, leaning into Alma.
Alma glanced at her sisters, then turned to Mama with a scowl, standing up.
"Why is it always you?" Mama said in disbelief, incredulous eyes on Alma. "Why can't you be good? Just once?"
Alma didn't respond. Her eyes turned to her sisters once more, gesturing to their room, then back to Mama.
"I will speak with all of you." Mama called after them.
Cora stopped at the door, turning back with worried eyes, but Ramona grabbed her arm and pulled her in.
Mama tried to follow them but Alma stepped in front. She was the strong one, it was her job to protect them.
"Enough, Alma." Mama scolded, grabbing her daughter's arms to pull her aside. "I've had enough of you."
Alma watched Mama head for the room and she panicked, deciding there was only one thing left she could do.
As Mama headed for the door, Alma kicked her from behind. Mama yelped in surprise, furious eyes turning back to Alma.
"Well, I've had enough of you!" Alma taunted, her chest puffed as she stood tall and defiant. "Panzona!"
Her sisters audibly gasped from the doorway, and Alma shot them a cheeky grin before turning and running as fast as she could for the front door, Mama in hot pursuit.