Chapter 6: Hugs

55 years before Encanto

Alma quickly braided her hair, excited eyes meeting her reflection's as all she could think about was Pedro.

"Do you think I should tell him?" Alma asked her reflection, then her eyes shifted.

No. It was too soon, way too soon.

Time had passed, and the travellers were continuing on their journey, which meant the time had come for Pedro to leave. Alma had been trying to work up the courage to ask if she could come too, but she hadn't known him for that long, and knew it was a big ask.

She looked back at the mirror and sighed, wishing she could hug her. "You would tell him, Cora. I know you would."

Her reflection stared back, and Alma sighed.

"Alma!"

Mama's voice sounded panicked.

"Where are you?"

Alma frowned.

"Busy, Mama!"

"Come here, right now."

Alma groaned in frustration, throwing her head back.

"No! I said I'm busy!" Alma's shouts became a little too hostile, and when they were met with silence, she swallowed.

Great. Now she'd done it.

Alma quickly kissed her finger, tapping it to her reflection as she ran for the window.

She slid it open and got about halfway out before Mama grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her back inside.

"What do you think you are doing!?" Mama demanded, while Alma held onto her hand, trying to lesson the pain.

Mama threw Alma down, her body hitting the wooden floor and rolling to a stop.

Alma climbed back to her feet, staring defiantly at her.

"How many times must I tell you?" Mama asked, using her hands to emphasise her words as she paced anxiously. "You must be on your best behaviour today, Alma. Papa is coming home, and I need everybody's help to make today perfect. I need you to be good. And here you are, climbing out a window!"

"I don't want him to come home!" Alma snapped. "He's not good, Mama. He's not a good husband. He'll just make you upset, and then you'll be worse!" She threw a hand at her. "Look at you! You're already worse."

Seeing her Mama's eyes flash with anger, Alma ducked under her fist, running for the bedroom door. She went to open it, but Mama grabbed her hair first.

Alma's head was slammed forward into the door with a thud, then pulled back and slammed again, and again. Alma screamed at first, then went quiet, her head becoming foggy and her body limp.

Mama turned Alma around to face her, slamming her back into the door and pointing a finger in her face.

"Don't you ever speak to me like that again, do you hear me?" Mama shouted, her eyes burning.

Alma blinked slowly, trying to navigate through the fog.

"Didn't quite catch that, Mama."

Her words came out ruder than intended, and Mama's eyes widened.

Alma couldn't help but laugh. She couldn't tell if it was the head injury, the confidence of her newfound love, or just a matter of time, but Alma had enough. This was just some sad old woman, and Alma was sick of her.

A fist collided with Alma's stomach and she moaned in pain, doubling over. Something hit the back of her head and then she was slammed into the door again. Alma went quiet, closing her eyes as her head flopped forward.

There was a moment of silence.

"Look at me." Mama's held Alma's jaw, tilting her head back up.

She slowly opened her eyes, feeling disorientated. Mama's grip was tight and it hurt.

Alma went to speak but a soft sob came out instead. She winced, feeling betrayed by the sound. She closed her eyes again, determined not to cry.

Mama sighed, and Alma could feel her becoming calmer. She loosened her grip, hand stroking Alma's hair now.

"Are you going to do that again?" Mamá asked in a tired voice. "Just answer me."

Alma shook her head.

"And you're going to listen?"

Alma nodded, then stopped because the movements made her head hurt.

"Good girl." Mama muttered, letting go.

Alma wiped her nose, then looked down to see blood on her hand.

"This is what happens, Alma." Mama told her. "Your bad behaviour leads to these consequences. You can see that, can't you?"

Alma took deep breaths, leaning into the door. The room felt like it was spinning and she felt tired and groggy.

"Do you have something you'd like to say?" Mama prompted.

Alma looked back at her, knowing Mama was waiting for an apology.

She blinked slowly, noticing the window behind Mama was still open. A single butterfly fluttered past, landing momentarily on the windowsill, then flying off.

"Well?" Mama asked again. "What do you have to say to your Mama?"

Alma smiled at the question. She slowly straightened up, eyes on Mama, who seemed confused.

She spat in Mama's face.

"Didn't hurt." She grinned.

Alma took the moment that Mama froze in shock to shove her down, kicking her so hard she couldn't get back up.

Alma sprinted for the window, and this time she slipped through.

"Alma!"

Mama's shouts rang out as Alma laughed, running across the roof tiles. She jumped off, grabbing the tree branch as she quickly climbed down.

Later

The travellers prepared their carts for the long journey, while Pedro stood waiting by his cart, eyes searching the crowd.

She had to come, surely she wouldn't let him go without saying goodbye?

Secretly Pedro had been hoping Alma would ask if she could come too, but he knew it wasn't his place to push it. Her whole life was here, her family-

His thoughts were interrupted by a thump and shuffle from behind as someone jumped into his cart, scrambling under the drop cloth. He smiled as he saw the familiar shape of a girl sit up, shuffling closer under the cloth.

"Hola." Alma's muffled voice spoke.

Pedro burst into laughter.

"Hola." He grinned, scratching his head in confusion. "What are you doing under there, Mariposa?"

"Mariposa?" Her tone was playful. "That's my sister. We look the same, it's an easy mistake. My name is Cargo."

He raised his eyebrows. "Cargo?"

"Mm-hm." She nodded from under the cloth. "If you could transport me to the next town that would be great. And I don't want to impose. Even if you drop me off a little down the road, I just-"

"Why are you hiding your face?" Pedro asked softly.

He noticed red blotches starting to stain the cloth. He went to pull it off, but Alma held on tight.

"Are you okay?" Pedro gently put a finger to one of the stains and the shape under the cloth flinched. "Sorry- are you hurt?"

"Just the leaking cargo." Alma tried, but Pedro wasn't in a playful mood anymore. His heart sunk at the thought of Alma getting hurt.

"Can I see?"

There was silence, then the shape shook its head.

"Can I... hold you?" Pedro tried again.

There was more silence, then she nodded.

Pedro hopped up into the cart to sit beside her, gently putting his arms around the shape, feeling Alma's warm body underneath. Alma leaned into Pedro and he carefully held her.

Alma rested her covered head against Pedro's chest and felt him kiss it from the other side of the cloth. It was dark under there but she could still make out his shadowy silhouette against the sunlight.

Pedro held onto Alma, gently stroking her. Alma relaxed into his embrace, closing her eyes. She felt grateful for the cover, as for some reason the moment Pedro started holding her Alma's eyes wouldn't stop watering.

She didn't know she'd fallen asleep until Pedro gently shook her shoulder.

"Mariposa." He whispered from the other side of the cloth.

"Hm." She mumbled.

"I'm going to take it off now, okay?"

She shook her head.

"Just so we can see your face." He reassured her. "You can still stay under it. There's someone here to help you."

Curiosity got the better of Alma as she lifted the cloth a little, just enough to see her sister's face staring back at her.

Alma groaned and pulled the cloth back down.

"Wow." Ramona scoffed. "You're welcome."

The cart wobbled a little and Alma realised they were moving. She peeked out again.

"We left." She realised, one eye peeking out, searching the moving landscape, then turning to her sister. "Wait. Why are you here?"

Ramona poked at the eyehole and Alma moved back to avoid her. Alma grinned, re-emerging with a hand over her eye this time, peeking between her fingers.

"Oh Alma, just come out!" Mona sighed. "No one cares."

"I care." Pedro interjected.

"Yeah." Alma's muffled voice came from under the cloth. "He cares."

"Well I don't." Mona frowned. "So if you want me to help, I need to see your face. Quick, before I change my mind."

Alma surrendered, sitting up and keeping still as Mona gently pulled back the cloth, revealing her bruised and bloodied face.

Pedro's expression softened in concern, while Mona seemed unsurprised. Alma avoided his eyes, her hand holding her braid.

"She got you good." Mona commented.

"But I got her back." Alma couldn't help but boast, her eyes sparkling a little at the memory.

"You did." Ramona smiled, looking down at the rag and bowl on her lap as she squeezed out excess water.

Mona flicked her long black hair over her shoulder so it wouldn't get in the way as she leaned in close, carefully wiping blood from around her sister's nose and mouth.

"Why are you here?" Alma repeated, her tone gentler this time.

"Because," Mona dipped the cloth in the water again. "That place was a nightmare. Mama told me to go find you, and I did, and when you were leaving... Well." She shrugged, dabbing the cloth along her sister's brow. "What else could I do? Stay?" Mona's eyes widened at the absurdity of the idea.

Alma smiled. Despite their differences over the years, she was glad her sister was here.

"And where you're going has an a hospital." Mona added. "I could work."

Ever since their sister had died, Ramona had become obsessed with working in medicine.

"How do you feel?" Pedro asked, offering her one of his hands for Alma.

Alma took it, seeing Pedro had that same soft worried expression he'd had for her on the rooftop. Alma sighed in relief, because he wasn't judging her, he wasn't gawking.

She felt herself glow from how much Pedro seemed to care for her, and the knowledge that her life was about to change for the better. No more Mama, no more hurting. Now Alma would be able to spend every day with him, not having to ever worry about going home, because home was going to be with him.

Alma glanced up at the clear sky, and the moving carts around them. She turned back to Pedro, eyes warm with love.

"Mariposa?" He gently prompted. "How to you feel?"

Alma smiled, cuddling up to him.

"Free."