10. Chapter 10

Ayla didn’t like the growing feeling of unease resting on her gut. It had been gaining weight as the party continued and had settled like her hermana’s anvil when the lights had cut out. The seamstress looked for her apprentice during the small party before the ceremony but couldn’t find her anywhere. She had decided to look for her after the ceremony, assuming that while she may be very timely, her family may be making her late. She tuned out the speech that Senora Alma recited at each of these, having heard it four times by now. She was instead focusing on the unease, growing tension seeping through her caused by some consciously unknown fact her brain was trying to get her to piece together. The seamstress felt like she was on the cusp of fitting the pieces together, but every time she attempted to put one into place, it was barely the wrong shape. It was like she was putting together a jigsaw, and she already had the edges together in a frame. She had globs of somewhat intelligible pieces of the picture, but she couldn’t find the indistinct bits to fit those globs together in the frame. She was pulled from her mental puzzle solving by the sound of polite clapping and tuned back into the event just in time to see the tiles to the staircase flip into a red pathway as the curtain dro-

“What is Tonito doing there?”

White noise. That was what filled Ayla’s mind at Daniella’s murmured question. And through that white noise, the unease shot up at least three notches to almost terror. Because standing there, looking for all the world like a scared kitten, was her little sobrino. Because he was in the suit that she had finished just this morning for the newest madrigal. Because he was reaching out, pleading in a language only her family and two others knew to her knowledge, soulful eyes staring over at a column, begging for help. Because Mirabel walked out from behind the column and took his hand, a tight fake smile plastered on her face as she tried to calm him. Because she walked her son up to a magical door that only members of one family would be allowed to approach right now.

Because Mirabel was a MADRIGAL.

That thought caused puzzle pieces long cast aside to finally snap into place. Then, the whole picture solved itself in a cascade of realization until almost the entire horrifying tableau came into relief.

Mirabel was the giftless madrigal. And Ayla knew from her experience with the girl that the rumors were solely malicious slander. There was no way that that girl was an attention hog, not with the silent way she would fade into the background given even a fraction of a chance. Her little sobrina was in no way a layabout, considering the effort she put into the three, possibly four soon, apprenticeships she juggled alongside chores. And she was absolutely NOT giftless, even if her gifts weren’t sourced directly from a magical candle. That girl had more artistic talent in her pinkie than many seamstresses had in their entire bodies. Which wasn’t even including her amazingly maternal side, one look at her with Antonio was enough to say that Mirabel was miraculous, even without some sorcerous gift.

And if she took that to be accurate, some other things that she had set aside became clear. Julietta was more than a mother figure who got too busy to supplement the upbringing of another’s child. She was an absent mother who pawned her child off on another, or worse, abandoned her child and left her to find her own upbringer. Ayla thanked her lucky stars that Mirabel had found whoever Cassie was because if the girl had raised herself, Ayla worried what would have become of her.

Another stark realization was that Alma Madrigal, the village’s mayor for all intents and purposes, had isolated a CHILD to the point that the child hid their last name and stopped talking. Furthermore, the woman had frequently degraded a child for not holding up to a perfect standard and had allowed vicious rumors to spread about said child due to that degradation. It hadn’t been hard to guess the source of those rumors, even if it wasn’t the woman who actually started them. And the best reason that Ayla could infer for the woman to do this was that Mirabel hadn’t gotten a gift and muddied the perfect magical image of the Madrigal family. And that reason was just unacceptable.

But the realization that she and Daniella were sharing was that of Pepa. A woman they had viciously mocked togeather when faceless became so much worse when a face could be applied. The woman was emotionally challenged, they could accept that, but she had already raised two other well-enough-adjusted children despite that. The fact that she had pawned off her one-year-old onto a barely ten-year-old was inexcusable in their minds. If it had been a new or unprepared mother, they could at least justify that she wasn’t ready, even if she could have chosen a better replacement caretaker. If someone whose job involved something a baby couldn’t be around, they could justify it for the child’s wellbeing. But no, this woman had no excuse. And the fact that she was standing up by that door, looking proud of a child she barely raised while his true mother was and would have continued hiding behind a column had he not brought her to light, was even more despicable in their eyes.

The only piece that kept the relief from completion was the elusive “Cassie’s” identity. No madrigal had a name that would accommodate that as a nickname. It was the only piece that still didn’t fit, but she was pretty sure that Mirabel would keep her promise to divulge that identity should she find her tonight.

Her sister tensing beside her snapped her out of her contemplative fugue as she saw something occurring at the door.

Antonio’s hand was on the door, but it was flickering. One moment it was there, the next, blank wall. The boy looked confused and worried, not removing his hand from the wall. The two women on either side of the boy were an exercise in juxtaposition. The younger appeared concerned for her child, nervous that he would be an outcast like herself. The older’s face seemed annoyed, a step away from anger, and almost constipated at the ceremony going awry.

The scene held for a moment longer before the house itself rumbled threateningly, a sound like an earthquake mixed with a mother bear’s roar. The candle sputtered, almost seeming indignant at the house’s sound. Then the wall tiles tinkled, somehow sounding threatening like the house was promising some form of retribution. The candle’s flame lowered almost to the wick. The shutters fluttered, and some more tiles jingled, sounding like a sort of compromise, before the flame suddenly flared violently, almost singeing Alma’s eyebrows. Gouts of magic flowed from the tall flame, picking up the door and moving it, stable and whole, next to the only blue door on the level. Then the remaining magic carved an image on the door of Antonio, surrounded by animals of all kinds.

Ayla could see Mirabel’s face fall in some form of defeat before a smile forced itself onto her face when Antonio turned towards her to ask if Paco’s friends could come. That defeat on her sobrina’s face made the dregs of horror fuse with her realization and birth bitter, cold anger in the depths of Ayla’s heart. Of course, she wouldn’t ruin tonight for her sobrina’s son. But she would be plotting because she knew that others in the room would come to similar conclusions to her and be equally appalled. And those similarly minded people may wish to help her release that anger. It wasn’t looking good to be a Madrigal after tonight, some for different reasons than others.

“We have a new gift!” The relieved voice proclaimed, casting the sentence for Mirabel and her son’s future. Mirabel felt something break a little inside, only holding the pieces together because her little boy held his hand out to her again.

She gave a small smile that she didn’t feel and ensured that Antonio was the first to step into his room. It was terrific, a wonderland for the animal-obsessed boy. A massive treehouse in the middle of a jungle. It was quite picturesque, but it just heightened Mirabel’s sense of melancholy, knowing that Antonio probably wouldn’t be given the time to explore here. Her five-year-old child would be too busy outside the room, likely forced into serving as a translator for the townsfolk’s many animals or possibly settling disputes with the animals of the jungle around the town. She felt a few pieces of that something chip off and barely caught them.

She had barely caught her bearings before Antonio was pulled away from her again, a real-life jaguar pulling him onto its back and running off. Looks like my efforts are lacking compared to the relatives yet again. The bitter voice that was now a constant companion in her mind muttered. She sighed; at least he was happy, and Dolores would watch out for him. She could force herself to be content with that.

She heard Alma call over Antonio, an event that she couldn’t remember ever occurring before now. She sidled closer just in time to hear, “A gift just as special as you are.” The words cracked the something where her heart was even more.

She only vaguely heard Alma calling for a picture in her hurry to catch the fragile pieces. She silently hoped that they might remember her. Instead, she noticed that her hijo and prima were both fidgeting and trying to get someone’s attention. They even tried to wave her over, only to be chastised for ruining the poses. They were ignored, drowned out, and barely ready as the flash went off. The shards started slipping through her fingers.

Mirabel bolted to the now empty courtyard, trying to save her little boy’s night from her bitterness. She made it to the courtyard’s center before the shards finally slipped all the way and tore into her. The girl let go. Harsh sobs shoved themselves from her throat as feelings she had been stuffing down for so long blossomed. Fat tears dribbled from her eyes, fogging her glasses and covering her face as the shards of her bitterness stabbed her heart.

She felt somewhat silly, crying over a missed picture when she hadn’t for the last three birthdays her relatives had ignored. It felt odd to be so bitter about her son in all but blood, who she loved dearly, getting a magical gift when she hadn’t. It made her feel sick to feel this way when she didn’t feel like she had a right to feel this way. She rationalized her grief as the last straw on a stack already towering due to a horrible day. Her tias had to know who her family was now, and Antonio had gotten a gift and would probably be pulled away from her now that Pepa’s angst source was removed. Her family left her out of some minuscule source of recognition of her existence, and she now found herself in the oddly familiar position of crying by herself at a gifting ceremony.

Her wracking sobs lessened slightly as she noticed something odd. Her mama wasn’t trying to calm her. Usually, when she was crying or even just feeling down about something, the house would rush to console her, reassuring her of her place in the Genius Loci’s metaphorical heart, that she was special, that she was loved. But there were just her sobs echoing in the silent courtyard. Then, she heard something shatter as it hit the ground next to her. (“Mama?”) she asked, looking over to see a shattered tile on the floor, not dissolving into magic to re-manifest fixed on the roof.

Breaking out of her self-pity, she looked up and let out a gasp, finally seeing the cracks, no, fractures snaking their way around the place. They flowed and spiderwebbed across the courtyard, originating where she kneeled, going up the walls and over a few doors, eventually making their way up to the ledge where the candle rested. His flame lowered like it had earlier when her mama argued with him about her hijo’s door. Candle had wanted to do … something. Mirabel had trouble understanding Candle compared to her Mama. Still, her mama had made some form of deal regarding Mirabel helping to fix something to ensure that Antonio got a decent power. The whole thing was akin to a one-sided phone conversation that Mirabel hadn’t been able to follow, but she was sure that her Mama wouldn’t get her into a situation that they couldn’t handle.

She breathed in and out and tried to calm herself enough to think coherently about the situation so that she could either figure out a way to help or go find someone who could. She tried to rationalize that Antonio wouldn’t let himself pull away from her. That he had promised to fly back to her. She just had to trust her hijo would come back. Some of the cracks receded, but she didn’t notice.

She assured herself that her tias wouldn’t toss her out for being a madrigal, even the much-maligned Giftless one. That wasn’t what her tias were like. Instead, they would most likely try smothering her and get her to move in with Tita Ayla rather than end her relationship with them. The candle glowed a little brighter, and the doors the cracks had crossed shone again.

She breathed in and out again. So what if what she did wasn’t acknowledged. Relatives helped each other, even if their work wasn’t recognized. She should take pride in her work and the satisfaction of a job well done; any external praise was just icing on the cake. And the courtyard was back to normal again.

She had looked up and seen that everything was fixed, sans the lone tile that had made her recognize. She carefully picked it up as her Mama groggily said, (“We need to talk about this.”)

Mirabel hummed and replied, (“After everyone else is asleep, I can’t be caught discussing cracks. Anything like that would just make my relatives even less likely to help.”)

The house clicked affirmatively and pulled over the hook with her bag on it. She placed the lone shingle into the bag, which was whisked back to … her room. Wow, that was a bad feeling. The nursery was just her room again. A space that she had outgrown but never left… Cassie made a warning clatter of her shingles, breaking Mirabel out of her spiral before a larger crack could be made. Mirabel breathed, trying to find the positive. At least I have my own space again. For once, her inner voice was helpful, calming her down and healing the minor fracture that had started forming.

Mirabel hoped that the cracks weren’t just her doing. They didn’t seem to appear due to her general sadness. She was still feeling bad, so she didn’t think it was just her. But for the life of her, she couldn’t come up with a good reason mama’s body would be shattering around her.

She heard a voice yell her name, and she looked over to see her Tita and Tias making their way towards her. They all had some form of negative emotion on their face: her Tita’s blank face, like she couldn’t even process her anger, her Tia Daniella’s grimace, Mel’s smile had been replaced with a scowl, and her Tia Elena’s was oddly serious (odd since she was never serious).

It was her Tita who spoke first, her voice eerily calm, as she let a small smile appear, “Buenas Noches, Mira.”

She gave a nod, (“Good evening Tita, Tias, how are you.”)

Daniella piped in, as her Tita’s smile dropped again and some odd mumbling leaked from her mouth that Mirabel couldn’t make out, “Not amazingly, but as well as we can, given tonight’s revelations.” Mirabel gave a nod and a sheepish shrug, “We hope that you could answer something for us.”

(“Sure, I suppose you deserve at least that much.”)

Ayla took a large breath, “Who is Cassie?”

Mirabel hummed thoughtfully and seemed to say to the open air, (“Well, she asked. We might as well come, clean Mama.”)

There was a moment of silence before the house roused, and the shutters gave a happy wave. The tiles also did a little flippy dance in welcome.

The Rojas sisters and spouse blinked. Elena was the first to clarify, “The house. Cassie is the house….”

Mirabel nodded nervously, whispering, “Well, my relatives call her Casita. She kind of became someone as I got to know her while she helped me with chores, so I started calling her Cassie. Then eventually, she just kind of became Mama.”

Her tita’s muttering grew even more frenzied, slowly raising in volume until she could hear, “raised by a house. A f*ing house. What is wrong with this family. Seriously, they ignore the sweetest, most talented child I’ve ever met. Neglect her upbringing. And leave it to a HOUSE.” She devolved back into muttering, hands flying now, making grasping motions as though to choke someone. Unnoticed by the angered woman were the tiles skittering away, as though saddened and hurt by the words.

Mirabel gave the tiles a few pats to try and make her Mama feel better. Then she stood, and straightened to her full height, stomped, and yelled for the first time the sisters had ever heard, “MAMA ISN’T JUST A HOUSE!”

The sisters were shell-shocked; even Ayla stopped her muttering and looked at the girl wide-eyed. Mirabel just continued, more subdued but still talking, “she isn’t just a house. She’s a person. She has feelings, hopes, and thoughts. She made me feel better when I was sad, praised me when I did a good job at something and supported me. She’s a thinking, feeling being like you or me, and if you think that she’s just a house, then you aren’t the people I thought you were.” A tear started making its way out of Mirabel’s eye as she gave that assertion.

Silence reigned for a while as the sisters tried to get over the shock of hearing the usually subdued girl yell at them with such anger. Mel finally reacted, kneeling down to Mirabel’s level and muttering. “It was just shock, kid. She didn’t mean that your mama wasn’t a person. She just was surprised that Cassie wasn’t human. She had some imagined notion of what and who Cassie was, and you just blew that image to kingdom come.”

Daniella joined Carmella on the ground, sitting down next to the girl who had crumpled after her fury died down. “She’s right. Ayla has been gushing to me about how good a job Cassie has been doing raising you ever since I met you.” The tiles changed shades slightly at the implied compliment, giving Daniella a shy little nudge of thanks. “I don’t think she actually cares what Cassie is. She’s just angry about how your family treated you. And Cassie’s situation just made her even angrier at them. She shouldn’t have had to raise you, no matter how good a job she’s done. There are just some things that a human needs to learn from other humans, things that she as an … ensouled house? … probably has no clue about. Honestly, we’re lucky that your first period happened when you were staying over at Ayla’s. That could have been a real mess.” Daniella chuckled a bit as the girl’s face flushed when she remembered the terror and the embarrassing talk that had followed as her Tita calmed her down.

Finally, Ayla opened her mouth, “Yeah, that could have been. I’m sorry … Can I call you Cassie?” She tried directing the question at the house. Casita made a hesitantly affirmative creak, “I’m sorry, Cassie. I didn’t mean to imply any lack of personhood on your part. I was just furious at your … inhabitants?” another less hesitant, almost angry, affirmative creak, “At the way your inhabitants have treated your daughter. I just… you shouldn’t have had to raise a human; that wasn’t fair to either you or Mirabel. I don’t want to intrude in your relationship, but if you ever need help with the human side of things, you can send Mirabel to me or my sisters, and we’d be happy to help. Or we could come up here now that we know and explain it to you maybe.” You could tell that Ayla felt awkward about how she had handled the situation. Still, a smile had bloomed at a different flipping of tiles, which Mirabel told her was an enthusiastic yes, as well as accepting her apology without hard feelings.

That acceptance opened the floodgates as Elena and Ayla started asking the house every question they could think to ask of the sentient building. Daniella and Carmella seemed happy to just sit on the ground next to Mirabel and listen to the replies to the increasingly outlandish questions.

Mirabel smiled shyly while she translated for her Mama as her Tita and Tias tried to get to know her. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be all bad after all. Sure, she had the mystery of the cracks to solve and her hijo’s place in the family to worry about. But for now, everything seemed decent in the world, and she’d take that for as long as she could get it.