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“Where is it? Where is the surprise?”
Mirabel was getting impatient, but she kept her eyes shut and let her father guide her.
Pa chuckled. “We’re almost there, Mirabel. Don’t peek.”
They stopped walking. She felt her father go of her hand.
“You can open your eyes now, Mirabel.”
She’s disappointed when she opened her eyes to find nothing but the piano in front of her. It felt just like her ceremony last year. Had her present disappeared like the door did?
Her lip started to quiver and she’s about to cry when she noticed something hidden just behind the piano.
It’s nothing like she’s ever seen before. It was a green box, with all sorts of buttons and keys just like the piano. The box was heavy and it takes Mirabel some time before she can pick it up.
She’s dismayed when it broke in half and one half stretched as it fell to the ground.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to break the box!”
Pa chuckled as he took the box from her and she was surprised when he pushed the two pieces back together. It made another funny sound.
“You didn’t break it, amor. It’s an accordion. It’s supposed to make music when you press the keys and push it around.”
She gasped. “An instrument? And it’s really all mine?”
Pa nodded with a smile. “You said you wanted something nobody else played, so I found this. A special instrument for my special Mirabel.”
It was the best instrument of them all. Mirabel laughed and jumped to give her father a hug. It was hard with the accordion in the way and Pa stumbled around.
“Thank you! Thank you! I’ll be the best accordion player in the Encanto.”
She'd later learn that she was only person with an accordion in the Encanto, but she still didn’t let that deter her from her goal.
Mirabel scowled when she came out of the closet door, accordion still too big for her arms.
“Dolores, you cheated! I didn’t even giggle this time.”
It was Isabela who spoke up while Dolores and Luisa only rolled their eyes.
“Mirabel, Dolores didn’t need to use her hearing. We could all hear your accordion from our hiding spots.”
“Can’t you just leave it? You carry that thing around with you all the time.” Luisa's voice was calm and Mirabel almost found herself almost agreeing with her sister until she remembered her Pa's words.
“No! Pa said that if I want to learn how to play the accordion, I’ll need to know the instrument from the inside out!”
“Mirabel, I don’t think he meant that you need to carr-"
Mirabel didn’t listen to her as she dashed off. She spun around mid-step and stuck her tongue out.
“How would you know? You’re not even a musician!”
Mirabel slipped as she dashed excitedly into the kitchen, and the accordion slid out of her hands. Thankfully, Casita was there to catch the both of them.
She started talking before Mama and Tia could start their lecture and waved the accordion in front of their faces.
“Mama! Tia! I learnt how to play a new song!”
“That’s lovely, Mirabel.” Her mother’s voice was warm and Mirabel felt herself swell with joy.
“That’s your fifth song, isn’t it, Mira?” Her tia asked as she brought the glass to her lips.
“Yep! And Tio Felix told me the two of you wanted to hear all of them!”
Mama’s eyes only widened but Tia Pepa had started to cough violently for some reason. She was confused when Mama and Tia share a look.
“You...You didn’t want to hear me play?”
“NO! I mean- yes! I mean-" The wind was starting to pick up as her Tia gestured wildly with her arms, struggling with an answer.
“What your Tia Pepa meant to say,” Mama said as she took over, “was that we would love nothing more than to hear you play.”
“Yes. Yes. That’s exactly what I meant.”
The first three songs had gone wonderfully, aside from the occasional missed note here and there. She had to keep on starting over during the fourth song, only remembering how the melody went on the sixth try.
Mama and Tia were kind. They never said a word when she had to restart and didn’t seem to notice when she played off-key or missed a note.
Maybe she was a better musician than she thought.
She had just finished the last song, not a note missed, when she heard Tio Felix call out.
“Mirabel! You should play that song again, I think Pepa really liked that one.”
Mama and Tia only blinked. Mirabel looked at their faces eagerly but they were only staring ahead.
“My... what a thoughtful husband you have, Pepa.” Mama’s voice was low.
“Yes. So thoughtful . I’ll be sure to...thank him.”
Tia then turned to smile down at Mirabel. “Well, you heard him. Play it again. I really did love it.”
Mirabel gave a bright smile and played the song again, just as perfect as she had done so before.
.....
She would cringe at the memory, years later, when she remembered just how badly she had played that day. She used to be so tone-deaf when she was seven.
That last song had been so bad, she’s surprised her audience didn’t go deaf the first time she played it.
Mirabel’s wince would turn into a smile when she remembered how Mama would clench her dress whenever she had to restart or how Tia would bite the side of her cheek whenever there was a missed note. All of which they had done so that their smiles didn’t slip into a wince instead.
They had hugged her when she finished and had told Mirabel to save the first performance for any future songs, just for the two of them.
Mama and Tia were really the best audience she could have asked for.
She didn’t pity Tio Felix though. Hopefully, Tia got a chance to properly thank him.
Mirabel idly played a few notes as she spun around the Casita. It had been a slow day, and she was looking for something to do.
As she twirled by the courtyard, Mirabel saw Isabela decorating the courtyard. Her sister would raise and lower herself on the swings as she grew flowers all over the pillar in front of her.
A mischievous grin appeared on Mirabel’s face. She had just found her fun for the day.
Whenever Isabela would raise her swing upwards, Mirabel would stretch her accordion as wide as possible. When her sister lowered herself, Mirabel would bring the accordion tightly together.
“Very mature.” Isabela rolled her eyes but continued to work.
The grin on Mirabel’s face grew. It wouldn’t take long for Isa.
And it didn’t take long. Isa had only worked through two pillars when she snapped at Mirabel.
“Would you stop it?!”
Mirabel only made a gagging face and played a frantic tune as if to mimic Isabela’s words.
“Stop copying me! I mean, stop playing it like that.”
Stop playing it like that. The accordion's notes were playful.
“That’s it! I'll...I’ll...” Isabela had gotten off her swing and was stomping towards her, petals flying in every direction.
Mirabel played a few long, exaggerated notes to mock Isabela’s steps, and laughed as she twirled away from Isa's fingers, just as her sister lunged for her.
She'd get an earful for this later but it was worth it.
Mirabel played a jaunty tune as she dashed around the house. It paired well with Isabela’s grunts and shrieks.
Another missed note. Mirabel put down the accordion with an exasperated sigh.
“I can’t do it!” She grumbled.
“Those don’t sound like the words of the best accordion player in the Encanto, Miraboo.” Her father murmured as he tuned the piano.
“It’s hard!”
“Well, it takes time. It took me years till I could play the piano right. You’ve only been playing for these three years and you’ve come so far.”
“But I can never play this one right!” She whined.
“That’s fine. You’ll get it right someday.”
“How do you know?”
Pa’s voice was gentle as he leaned down and patted her head.
“I know because my Mirabel never gives up.”
She had snuck out from her room to practice under the moonlight.
There was something about the moon that calmed Mirabel. It was bright, but the moonlight never blinded her like the sun would. It would just watch over and listen, never judging Mirabel for her mistakes. She felt at peace when she played for the moon.
The clouds had parted and the stars were shining tonight. That didn’t happen usually.
It was almost-
She heard the whispers and the footsteps as a door opened. With a jump, she ran into the small room nearby. The family used it as a storage room of sorts and Mirabel had to take great care to not knock anything over and give herself away.
She could hear the voices clearly now.
“Finally, some peace and quiet around here.” Tio Felix.
“Yes. And look how beautiful the sky is.” Her aunt’s voice never had the dreamy quality like it did at the moment.
“Not as beautiful as you.” Tio’s voice was warm. “Happy anniversary.”
Mirabel gagged as her aunt started giggling. “Oh, you shouldn’t have.”
“Anything for you. What really would make this moment perfect would be some music.”
Had Mirabel been a little bit older and just a little bit wiser, she would have come out of the room and made her presence known. Give the two an awkward smile and a hurried excuse and run for her room.
But she was only ten and naïve and eager to help. So, she did the only thing that had made sense to her at the time.
She started playing a vallenato. It was the only romantic song she knew.
“Oh, Felix.” Tia had that dreamy hint to her voice again. “It’s just like that scene in my favorite book. You’re wonderful. The song is heavenly.”
There was an awkward pause, but Mirabel kept on playing.
“Felix?”
“I...I didn’t arrange for any music.”
The music stopped and Mirabel could hear the wind start to pick up outside.
She’s caught off-guard when the door suddenly opened, and Mirabel tumbled outside and fell on her back.
The two stared down at her. She gave them a cheeky smile.
“Uh...happy anniversary?”
She had never seen Tia Pepa’s face turn that shade of red before.
Baby Antonio loved to hear her play. Mirabel had learned that when she randomly started playing a song, out of desperation to distract the baby when he was being particularly fussy that day.
He had immediately stopped and looked at her, transfixed.
Gradually, a day didn’t go by when she didn’t play a song for him. When he had started bringing his hands together after she finished a song, Mirabel knew that it was just a random movement that babies did.
Still, she liked to imagine that he was clapping for her.
Mirabel hummed as she played and watched the setting sun.
It was a tune she had come up with by herself. The song was different than the ones she usually played. It had a melancholy and softer flow to it, a personal touch that she had added. It went well with the scenery.
“Your accordion. It has a butterfly now.” Mirabel almost dropped the accordion when she heard Abuela.
“Y-yeah.” She stuttered as she looked down at the instrument. A yellow butterfly had made its way into the bellows, spreading its wings towards the ends.
“I... I painted it on.” Mirabel finished nervously. Abuela only nodded.
The two look around awkwardly, and Mirabel moved to enter the house.
“I’m sorry, Abuela, I didn’t mean to bothe-”
A hand stopped her, cutting Mirabel off mid-sentence.
“No. I’d like to listen to that song again.” Abuela’s face was expressionless.
Mirabel was too stunned to speak but gave a slow nod. As Abuela sat on the steps, Mirabel faced the setting sun and started to play again.
Abuela never moved from her position, and only stared ahead. Her expression was still unreadable.
As the sky started to turn pink, Mirabel dared to sneak a glance at her Abuela. She had only looked for a second, but Mirabel wondered if she had imagined the teardrop that was trailing down Abuela’s cheek.
Mirabel neared the final notes just as dusk started to fall. She couldn’t see Abuela’s expression now; shadows had formed indiscrete images on her face; her hands were clenched around her black shawl.
Mirabel finished the song when the sun had finally left the sky. Abuela hadn’t moved ever since the song stopped, and she sat there, motionless; the night had obscured Abuela from Casita’s candlelight.
Mirabel hesitated before she extended a slow hand towards her grandmother.
The hand hadn’t made it halfway when Abuela suddenly stiffened, as if she had just awakened. Mirabel brought her hand back as her grandmother rose from her position with a grace she could only dream to have.
In the light, Mirabel could see that she had imagined the teardrop. There wasn’t a trail on her Abuela’s cool and impassive face. She expected her Abuela to leave without a glance, and isn’t surprised when Abuela turned towards the house.
Mirabel was stunned for the second time when she felt Abuela place a hand on her shoulder. There was a firm squeeze and Mirabel felt as if Abuela was on the cusp of saying somethin-
The moment went as quickly as it came. The hand was gone and Mirabel only looked back at Abuela as the woman walked back into the Casita, head held high.
She’s surprised when Antonio asked for her to play a lullaby. He hadn’t asked her to play one for over a year now.
Still, she smiled and reached for the accordion. It was his final night in the nursery, and it was such a simple request. How could she say no?
He drifted off to sleep before she had finished the entire song. The worried expression had slipped from his face and replaced with one of peaceful bliss.
“Sweet dreams.” Mirabel whispered as she put the accordion down and moved towards the window.
The clouds have covered the moon and the only light tonight was that of the candle.
She gave a worried look towards Antonio before looking back at the candle.
Please don’t let him down tomorrow.
There was a grin on her face as she pressed the final keys and brought the song to an end.
Pa clapped as she curtsied. “I told you, Miraboo. You’d figure out how to play that song eventually.”
“If by eventually, you meant seven years, then I guess you were right.”
Her father chuckled and gave her a gentle nudge. “And to think, it was only yesterday that you told me in this very room that you couldn’t do it.”
Pa had a slightly sad smile. “Now you’re sixteen. How time flies. Guess we can finally call you the best accordion player in the Encanto, hm?”
“Ha. I’m the only accordion player in the village. Being the best doesn’t mean much then, does it?”
“It does to me.”
Father and daughter shared a smile as they enjoyed the peace.
“What will you do now, Mirabel?”
She didn’t have to think for long. “You know, I always wanted to try a duet. You on the piano. Me on the accordion.”
“Of course. It would be my honor to play alongside someone as talented as you.”
Seasons had come and gone. They had all grown older and wiser. The young had taken over from the old.
Mirabel rarely had time for the accordion as the years went by. Eventually, she had put it away in a box under her bed. Whenever she would come by it, she’d tell herself she was waiting for the perfect day.
That perfect day had come when she had woken up one day to find the sun just starting to creep up over the horizon. Mirabel wasn’t sure why, but she had the sudden urge to play like she did under the moonlight and sunsets all those years ago.
As she took her first steps outside, she wasn’t sure what song she wanted to play or if she could even remember how to play.
The first rays of sunlight hit her face as she remembered the moment she had shared with Abuela, just after Casita had come back.
…....
Mirabel was playing that song again- the one she had composed and played for Abuela. There was something personal about that moment and she had never played it again.
But the sunset was just as beautiful as it had been that day. It was impossible to resist the urge to start playing those first few notes.
Mirabel was about to stop when she heard the footsteps but the whisper had come before she could.
“Mirabel. Please. Don’t stop.”
Abuela joined her this time and Mirabel found that she didn’t sit this time.
The two stood side by side as they watched the twilight sky and Mirabel looked over to find the tears were freely trailing down Abuela's cheeks.
Once again, Mirabel finished the song with the sun’s departure. This time, Abuela didn’t reach for her shoulder.
Abuela pulled Mirabel into her arms and sobbed into her hair instead. The accordion between them didn’t register with either of them in the moment.
She cried with her Abuela and the two of them did their best to wipe the other’s cheeks. When the tears didn’t stop flowing, the pair just let them be.
Eventually, they had stopped crying. Mirabel still remembered the loving manner with which Abuela had cupped her cheek when they pulled away.
“Thank you, Mirabel. My wonder.”
…..
The tears were starting to gather in her eyes again and Mirabel quickly moved her fingers over the keys and buttons. It had all come back to her by reflex, and she played for the sky.
She didn’t play that song she played for Abuela. Or the one she played with Pa. Or the one she had played for Tio and Tia.
Mirabel played an entirely new song today. It was different than anything she had ever played; it was her ode, her tribute.
She filled her song with her love for the ones that had departed. Each one had shattered her heart and the tears- the tears- they were flowing down her cheeks as she remembered the pain again.
But today, Mirabel wanted to celebrate them instead of dwelling on the pain.
So, she filled her song with her memories of those dear ones. She made every part of the song unique, just as they all had been. Each and every one of them special.
She started with a sombre and mysterious tune for her Tio Bruno. She wished that he never had to leave, but the bond they had shared after his return was unshakeable.
The tears that were falling on the steps reminded her of rain and of Tia Pepa. She played a vivacious tune with a hint of the vallenato from the fateful day. Mirabel hoped they were dancing along up in heaven.
A hint of a sob escaped her as she remembered Mama and Papa. Oh, her dear Mama and Papa. Nothing fit them more than the calm and loving lull she was playing now. Their love had never been loud, but they had loved with their entire hearts. What a love it had been.
She was sobbing as she played the last part of the song for Abuela and Abuelo. There was a hint of Abuela’s song creeping in but Mirabel changed the melody to a happier one. Mirabel had wanted to thank them, to remind them of the brief but happy days they had shared on this earth, and of the happy days they were surely sharing in the sky.
The sun had risen as Mirabel played the final notes. Her ballad finished, she curtsied to the sky and gave a weak smile.
“I hope you all liked it. I miss you all.”