Chapter Text
The room was blurry without her glasses, but Mirabel didn’t care. They always got in the way when she cried, and she had cried a lot tonight.
What had she done wrong? Perhaps she had walked oddly or not turned the doorknob correctly?
The party had ended abruptly, Abuela ushering everyone out, making promises. Her Mama had taken her upstairs as she’d asked questions no one could answer. Then came the deafening silence of her room as the grownups tried to figure what had gone wrong.
Why the casita had not given her a gift.
The door to the nursery creaked open and Mirabel turned to where two big brown eyes were looking at her. Camilo dashed in, the door thudding shut behind him.
“What’s going on?”
But her cousin did not know. He sat on her bed next to her, his shoulder the safest place for her head at that moment.
“The adults are in the kitchen. Papa sent us all back to our rooms. I don’t think they know what to do.”
Mirabel sniffed as even more tears filled her eyes. “Why didn’t I get a gift, Camilo? I thought…I thought our family was special. I thought I was special.”
But Camilo was just as lost as his favorite cousin.
“Well, why don’t we go ask Dolores what they’re saying?”
And so the two young children snuck along the halls of their home to knock on Dolores’s door. She answered before their knuckles could hit though, already wearing her nightgown.
“I can’t tell you,” she hissed.
Neither child asked how she knew. She was always listening, after all.
“But Mirabel’s upset! Please?” Camillo whined.
Her eyes flicked to Mirabel for a moment before she shook her head and shut the door. But Camilo just grabbed his cousin’s hand and dragged her down the stairs.
“If she won’t tell us, we’ll just find out for ourselves.”
They crouched, two little balls outside of the kitchen. It was not hard to hear the grownups as they shouted amongst each other.
“And what if Bruno sees something bad? What are you going to do then?” Julieta yelled.
“We will know when he shares his vision,” Abuela shot back. “Until then, nothing is certain.”
Another door slammed open as Bruno ran in.
“The vision!” he breathed, sucking in air from running all the way. “I…I have…man am I out shape.”
“Let me see, let me see!” Abuela demanded.
Mirabel was tenser than a pulled wire as she waited. What had her Tio seen?
The adults gasped practically as one.
“Oh no…”
“Ay…”
“Our casita. Cracks in our casita.”
“This…this can’t be right. Mirabel would never do this.”
“Mirabel is five.”
“The candle almost went out!”
“She is a child! My child!”
“And she is going to destroy us all!”
Silence after Abuela’s scream.
“Mami, what are you going to do?” Julieta asked softly.
“What I have to do to protect this family.”
Her heels clicked along the tiles of kitchen. Camilo had the sense to grab Mirabel and start racing to their rooms. He had just managed to get her back to the nursery by the time Abuela finished climbing the stairs.
“Camilo, what are you doing?” Abuela asked as she spotted him outside of the nursery door.
“I…I wanted to see Mirabel,” he replied timidly. For the first time, he was scared of his family.
“I will speak to her. Go to your room,” she snipped and shooed him off. He had no choice but to leave Mirabel to their Abuela.
Abuela entered to find her granddaughter shaking on her bed. She crossed the room and stood over the child, trying to force the vision she had seen out of her head. But she had seen it. And Bruno hadn’t been wrong yet.
“Mirabel. Are you alright?”
“Why didn’t I get a gift?” Her tiny voice shook as she asked.
Abuela drew herself up taller. “I do not know. Bruno is looking into it. But you should sleep. Your Mami is coming with some warm milk to help you. We’ll decided what to do tomorrow. Alright?”
“Alright.”
And Mirabel watched as her Abuela left her room, her back turned on her.
***
Bright and early that next morning, Mirabel was woken by her Mama and stuffed full of breakfast. Then Abuela and her parents took her on a surprise trip into town. Then walked through the streets that were just beginning to wake, bakeries opening, and farmers headed to their fields. People waved to Abuela but avoided looking at Mirabel. No one quite knew what to make of it.
Finally, the group came to a small stone house with an orange stucco roof on the edge of the Encanto. Sheer cliffs from the mountains were just in the backyard and dirty smoke was curling out the chimney. Mirabel did not know who lived there.
Abuela, calmer than she had been last night, walked forward and rung the bronze knocker. Shortly after, an old man opened it. He was a tall reedy thing, with nearly no white hair and bent wire glasses. He wore pressed olive pants and matching vest over a cream button down. Mirabel had only met him a handful of times.
“Abuelo Oscar?” Mirabel asked, peeking out from behind her mother.
“Ay, this the little tike? Sorry I couldn’t make the ceremony but suppose I didn’t miss much. Come in, come in,” he grumbled, gesturing for them to follow him.
Inside, the house seemed even smaller. Wooden furniture sat in a corner on top of a bright orange rug, facing a stone fireplace. A small kitchen with splintering cabinets was tucked to the right and three doors lined the back wall. Oscar shuffled back to one of the doors and swung it open. An open window beckoned in a breeze that blew the dust off a wooden dress and rustled the blankets on a skinny wire bed.
“I know it ain’t much but your Pa liked it enough what he was here. If you wanna repaint or anything you gotta do it yourself. I’m not much of a heavy workload guy anymore.”
“Mama?” Mirabel was holding tighter to Julieta’s hand.
She turned and crouched down so she was eye level with her little girl. “Mirabel, you’re going to stay with Abuelo Oscar for a bit, okay? Just until we can figure everything out.”
“But…I want to stay with you.” Tears will forming again and her little lip trembled.
Julieta frowned and looked at her mother. But her face remained still and impassive.
“You need to stay here, okay? We’ll come visit and you can help Abuelo around the house.”
“It will be good for you, Mirabel,” Abuela added, stepping closer so she appeared to loom over the mother and daughter. “Being surrounded by other children with gifts…you would feel inferior. It would be very hard for you. Living here, amongst people like you, will be much easier.”
Mirabel was shaking but she nodded. Abuela hadn’t steered her wrong yet.
“Alright then,” Oscar clapped his hands together. “Welcome to your new home, Mirabel.”