Chapter Text
Antonio was confused.
Minutes ago, his oldest prima had gathered each of the family members from the village into the courtyard of the Casita. She looked nervous, pacing and brushing flowers out of her hair. He thought that if she were his mamá instead, she’d be kneading at her braid. He could almost see her lips syncing to ‘Clear skies, Clear skies.’
“What’s wrong?” He whispered to his animal friends. “Why does prima Isabela look so worried?”
“Not sure,” Croaked one of the toucans, the one with the bent tail feather. “Her and the one in the apron entered that door-“ It gestured to Mirabel’s room with its beak. “-and came out looking frazzled.”
“Mirabel?” His nose scrunched up in worry. “Is she okay?” But the toucan could only give what Antonio interpreted to be a toucan’s equivalent to a shrug.
He tried to ask Isabela, who barely answered before she was quickly sidelined by Abuela. Then all of a sudden he heard his t ía shouting for Mirabel to wait, and then he saw his favorite prima, looking smaller and around his age.
In an instant, his familia seemed to react. Camilo tried to leave, Luisa started crying, Tío Bruno tripped on nothing, Abuela seemed to freeze, Tío Agustín fainted, his mamá started raining and Dolores just winced and covered her ears. He didn’t see why they had all reacted this way, it was just Mirabel! Not wanting to stress out any of his family any further, he stood there, dumbfounded.
Dolores eventually joined him, eyelids wrinkled from the sound overload and warily sidestepping to avoid his jaguar, who had flopped down beside him, jaws outstretched into a lazy yawn.
“How are you taking the news, Tonito?” She lilted, coaxing him to sit down on the floor with her. He took her invitation, curling up and leaning against her.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” He mumbled from underneath his crossed arms. “Why is everyone treating Mirabel like that? She just became small. I’m small, and no one’s yelling, or upset, or fainting. Are they angry at her?”
Dolores’ pained expression caved into a soft frown, placing a hand on his shoulder. “They’re not angry, Antonio. They’re afraid and worried for her because it’s not normal for Mirabel to become small again.”
“Oh,” Her little brother said. “That’s it?”
“Yeah,” Dolores could almost admire how calm and nonchalant he sounded. “I think it’s because it might have something to do with the magic.”
“It’s okay for prima Mirabel to be small again,” He puffed up his chest. “I’ll play with her, and I’ll make sure she isn’t sad!”
Dolores gave him a gentle smile, her face a little less scrunched up from the commotion. Everyone was starting to calm down and now talked amongst themselves to figure out what had happened to Mirabel. She caught the tail end of Camilo exclaiming to mini Mirabel that he would introduce her to Antonio, and she spotted Mirabel starting to run towards them, excited to meet her younger(?) cousin.
“That’s your cue, hombrecito.” She nudged him lightly with her elbow as she stood and brushed her dress off. “I’m going to check on Abuela.” And with that, his hermana mayor left without a sound. Antonio smiled at the familiar nickname, but he honestly liked it best when Mirabel said it to him.
Would she…
Would she even remember him?
He fiddled with the handkerchief around his neck, rubbing the silky fabric between his fingers. His jaguar, seemingly noticing his anxiety, pushed its broad muzzle into his arms. “Relax,” it rumbled, sending gentle tremors through his hands. “It will be okay.”
“You’re right,” Antonio said softly. “It’s just Mirabel. I promised Dolores I would make her happy.”
The girl finally came up to him, pushing up her glasses and grinning. “Hello! Are you my cousin? I didn’t even know I had another cousin!”
“Yeah, I’m your primo. I’m Antonio.” He offered with a timid wave. Her smile was infectious and he couldn’t help but smile too despite the sadness that Mirabel couldn’t recognize him.
Mirabel’s attention turned onto the parade of colorful animals around Antonio, and her eyes lit up in awe. “Woah, there’s so many animals here! Is this your gift?”
“Yeah! I can talk to animals. These are my animal friends.” He gestured to his posse of animals, who all acknowledged her with a chorus of hellos. “They’re all happy to meet you.”
“I’m glad,” She said, before hesitantly adding, “Um… Can I pet your jaguar? They just look so soft and cuddly, and I’ve never seen one up close, so…”
“I’m sure Parce doesn’t mind, right Parce?” The jaguar gave a grunt of approval, and dipped its head down to let the little girl pet them. She ran the length of the jaguar’s head and neck with her hands, admiring the sturdy build of its muscles and the surprising softness of its fur. Mirabel patted down the fur between its eyes and the big cat let out a relaxed purr. She startled a little when Parce leaned in, bunting her lightly and she laughed, its long whiskers tickling her face.
“She’s a good human,” Parce mused, half-drunk from its drowsiness. “Almost as good as you.”
“Oh please, you’re only saying that because she’s petting you like an oversized housecat, and besides, you’d take a pet from anyone,” Antonio scoffed playfully. “I remember the blizzard when you decided mamá of all people would be okay with you entering her room at 4 am for pets.”
“Her room was nice and warm.” It protested.
“She threw a pillow at you and we had to shovel snow for a day.” But he smiled in good humor of the silly cat. He turned to Mirabel, who had gotten her fill for pets, not wanting to make the jaguar uncomfortable.
“Wanna play in my room?” He asked, gesturing to the second floor.
“Of course!”
“Okay, get on.” Parce lowered to the floor, belly brushing the flagstones as he let the two children climb upon his back. “Hold on tight.” Mirabel squished her face against his shirt and hugged his waist, not wanting to fall off. Antonio patted the jaguar’s neck and they were off, his prima squealing in shock and exhilaration.
+++
Meanwhile, Bruno was getting battered by his mamá and his two hermanas. They weren’t angry, but Julieta’s anxieties and Pepa’s ever-growing storm cloud were already overwhelming him, coupled with Abuela’s silent stares that spoke volumes and even seemed to drown out the thunder.
“Bruno, please, could you look into the future and see how this all turns out?” His sister was saying, and he fidgeted nervously, his hands already twitching towards his pockets to throw some salt or sugar. The only reason he wasn’t was because Dolores had approached him to say that it was a little frustrating to sweep up, so he had tried to keep the salt throwing outside. He took to rubbing the soft little heads of his rats instead, their tiny warm bodies coiled up around his thin frame.
“Bruno!”
“I-I don’t know,” He stuttered, grimacing at the way he stumbled on his words. “What if I show you something worse? Besides, I-I don’t really use my gift anymore.” He smiled wryly. “Unless you’re talking about my acting, Heh heh…”
“ Bruno, ”
Oh, Bruno knew that tone of voice. It was Julieta’s concerned, slightly reprimanding tone. “Bruno, I know you don’t want to use your gift after what has happened, but we’ve had a fresh start, and now, the family might be in danger and we don’t know it unless you tell us .” She pleaded, but Bruno could see another reason in Julieta’s eyes that was left unsaid, hanging in the air.
“I want to know if this is because we treated Mirabel badly over those years.”
Bruno sighed.
“Okay.” He agreed weakly, a weary smile barely forming on his lips. “Let’s go to my room.” Julieta gave him a thankful one of her own. Pepa had calmed down considerably at this point, and only a hazy grey cloud hovered over her head.
“I’m coming too,” She huffed, wringing out her frizzled braid and picking up her skirts. “I want to see if Mirabel will be okay.”
“Mamá, ¿vienes?”
Abuela looked up at her children and shook her head lightly. “Ah, vete sin mi,” She waved them off. “I’m going to tell the town that we have a family emergency, and that we cannot help the community indefinitely.”
“That would be wise,” Julieta nodded. “Let’s go, Bruno.”
As they walked away from the matriarch, Bruno decided to make small talk to distract himself. “Y-you know, Mirabel reminded me of you when she first found me,” He said, and Julieta quirked an eyebrow in interest.
“How so?”
“She was headstrong, kind, and very empathetic,” He said, climbing the steps to his door. “She had the exact same tone of voice as you when she asked about the vision. Now I can clearly see where she gets it from.” He rapped his knuckles on the door. “She’s a good kid, Julieta.”
“All of the niñas and niños of this family are good,” His eldest sister stated fondly. “But out of all of them, my Mirabel burns the brightest and lets the others burn just as strong as her. My little miracle.”
“She’s our family’s miracle,” Pepa piped in. “She fixed the cracks in our family.” Behind them, Casita jingled the floor tiles in agreement, the musical clinking of ceramic calming to the triplets.
When Bruno opened the door and they passed through the entranceway, his sisters were pleased to see that the once intimidating spiral of stairs had been replaced with a quiet oasis, bushes, and greenery with waterfalls pelting down on the layered sandstone walls. In the middle of it was a paved, raised pedestal with an engraved circle for sand, perfect for Bruno’s vision rituals. At the back was a little sandstone house, where they could only assume was where Bruno slept and cared for his rats.
Bruno gestured for them to go to the pedestal as he gingerly yanked a few sticks and leaves from a nearby bush, and his rats scuttled out of his ruana to play. He came back and started setting up, lighting a match with an expert flick of his wrist. Julieta and Pepa were already holding hands, knowing the gist of what was about to happen.
Lighting the pile of twigs and leaves, he threw some salt over his shoulder and took a deep breath, and the familiar onyx of his dark eyes being quickly eaten away by an ominous emerald green. He held both of his hermana hands as the ring of sand around them began to swirl and turn into a miniature hurricane. Julieta and Pepa began to look around, searching for any glimpse of a vision.
Julieta’s eye snagged on a familiar form and the sand shifted to shape into recognizable silhouettes. “There’s one!” Pepa shouted, gesturing with a nod as Julieta looked over.
Mirabel’s tiny face was enraptured by a mini play seemingly performed by Bruno and Camilo, as Antonio laughed and clapped beside her.
Mirabel entering Isabela’s room, looking frightened.
Mirabel with her two older sisters sitting on a hill somewhere, braiding hair and weaving flower crowns.
Mirabel bawling her eyes out, surrounded by cracks and splinters.
Mirabel laughing as she danced in the rain with Pepa, and bundled up inside with Dolores, reading together.
Mirabel nervously reaching out towards a sad-looking Abuela, tentatively trying to comfort her.
“There’s too many to keep count!” Bruno yelled over the howling wind, his brow furrowing in discomfort. “I can’t hold on much longer, there isn’t a clear ending!”
“Wait!” Julieta cried out. “There’s more!”
Alongside the smaller, scattered visions, a bigger one was forming, and the three siblings huddled together to take a closer look.
Mirabel together with the whole family, all of them fast asleep, as she fluctuated from her normal self to her five-year-old self.
Abruptly, the sandstorm ended, showering sand on all three of the triplets. Bruno shielded himself from most of it using the newly-formed tablet, but his sister got a generous amount on their clothes and in their hair.
“I didn’t miss this,” Pepa grumbled, shooing away a stormcloud and shaking the grains of sand from her dress.
Julieta wordlessly dusted off her hair and apron as she came over to take the vision from Bruno’s hands, who was groaning and rubbing his temples. It was the very last vision they had seen, the one with Mirabel asleep and changing forms.
“What does it mean?” She whispered, tilting the tablet from side to side to alter the diorama.
“Wow, my visions really do like playing favorites,” Bruno muttered as he came over, blinking out the remaining green from his eyes. “If it’s anything like last time, the future will be decided by all of our choices this time, instead of Mirabel’s.” His gaze dropped, darkening. “Mirabel may be stuck in this state if we make the wrong ones.”
Julieta’s breath caught in her throat at her brother’s sinister words.
“But y’know, just a hunch,” He shrugged, brushing his shaggy hair out of his face. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to take a nap from that hell of a vision.” He sidled over to the little sandstone house, a few rats skittering out of the brush to join him inside. “I’ll be up for dinner, just call me down!” And with that, the seer retired for the afternoon with a click of the door.
“Bruno really has a way with jokes and reassuring people,” Pepa remarked sarcastically as she joined her sister’s side. “Woah, Julieta, maybe you should sit down, Te ves medio muerta. ”
“No, no, I’m okay,” She inhaled and exhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just… worried about the future.”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay to be worried,” Pepa comforted, taking the tablet and setting it down on the floor before taking her sister’s hands in hers. “The future is scary, but some things are not set in stone, sí?” Julieta nodded, and her sister took that as an invitation to go on. “The vision of Mirabel and the Casita was like that, we thought she would break it-”
“She did-”
“-She did, but not only did she fix it in the end, but she brought our Bruno home and made us all closer and happier.” She got Julieta to look her in the eyes. “For now, let’s not worry about the future and stick to the present, okay?”
“Okay.” Julieta said, heaving out a small sigh before she gave her sister a worn-out grin. “When did my little hermana become so wise?”
“I’m only younger than you by 11 minutes,” She sulked in protest. “You learn a few things when your husband is the only thing keeping your mood swings from drowning the entire town.” She gave Julieta a hug, which her hermana melted into, the tension leaving her body.
“Don’t worry, we’re all in this together.”