9. Chapter 9

The bed shook a bit, rousing the occupants to wakefulness. Mirabel stretched and yawned a bit, replying to a jitter of the alarm clock with a (“Morning Mama”). Then, noticing that Antonio wasn’t quite awake yet, and taking into account the day, she pulled the blanket back up onto him. (“Go back to sleep, Mijo. I’ll handle the breakfast plates.") Her response was a quiet murmur, and two rough knocks as the lump under the sheets wiggled farther in.

She quickly dressed, slipping on her usual dress and glasses. She then slid over to a small vanity and popped in her earrings, attaching her pocket watch to its pocket and giving it a few winds. Her path to the door was only hindered by a few stops to toss last night’s clothing into the laundry basket, not even stopping as her Mama helped her slip on her flats. Finally, ready for the day, she knocked twice on her door and jogged out. She slid down the stairs giving a wave to her Abuelo’s portrait and rode a wave of tiles all the way into the kitchen.

Mirabel ignored the slight grumble of her stomach as she set the table; she was going into town early this morning anyway, so she would have a nice quiet breakfast with her Tia before the trial today would likely end up being. She had already cleaned the house more thoroughly than usual this week. Partially because if it was less than perfect, Alma would be annoyed and partially in the vain hope that if nothing was wrong today, then her Hijo wouldn’t need to go through what she has. She was nervous about her baby’s gift and worried that he would also become too busy for her. She trusts her little boy to try and keep their relationship; it’s her relatives she doesn’t trust.

As she mused upon this, she got to waking everyone up, knocking on most of the doors. Then, hip bumping her Prima Dolores’s door, and shaking her little boy awake, reminding him that she had errands to run that morning, so he would need to let Pepa watch him today. Her tight-lipped expression and his scrunched-up face clearly marked their thoughts on it. She would have loved to be with him all day today, making the most of her time with him while she still could. But instead, she had to go get the suit he could be leaving her in.

Not helping matters was that her Mama had been quieter than usual like she was deep in thought about something she couldn’t share. It made Mirabel nervous, but her mama always assured her it wasn’t currently a problem. The implication of a future problem had been looming for years, though, so while the assurance was nice, it didn’t help her nerves about her baby’s ceremony. She was of split opinion on what the best outcome tonight would be. On the one hand, she hoped that he got a gift, was accepted by her relatives as the special little boy that she already knew he was, and avoided the hardships that she had persevered through for the last ten-ish years.

On the other, slightly more selfish hand, she kind of hoped that he also wouldn’t get a gift. So that they wouldn’t be separated by her little Tonio’s new “duties.” So that she could give him the childhood he deserved instead of a life of servitude to the village. She was honest enough with herself to know that secretly, selfishly, she hoped that his lack of a gift would prove that there wasn’t anything wrong with her should it come to pass.

She had been preparing herself for either eventuality. Psyching herself up for either consoling a bitter and/or heartbroken toddler or her own personal heartbreak about the possibility of losing the little bundle of joy she’d been raising for 5 years. The thought of either hurt her soul, but she'd survive, she always had before. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the hairline fractures spreading from her feet as she left the house towards the village, healing themselves as quickly as they formed.

Ever since the little nine-year-old had slipped into her heart, Ayla had been trying to learn about the girl’s family. Any family who ignored a little girl like Mirabel’s had deserved at minimum a talking to but were now likely to receive much worse from several people. Over the last six years, Mirabel had gained a decent silent, unknown following among the intelligent women of the town. Her quiet, reserved demeanor had earned her the regard of many of the town’s mothers. Her exceptional skills and adorable adoptive son had drawn in the unmarried girls trying to draw in suitors with her beautiful embroidery. Dolores Madrigal had even ordered a few things over the years, even if Mirabel hadn’t been there to receive or deliver the order. But, of course, these supporters were also at a loss as to her family, really only referring to her as Mirabel. Although some just assumed she was a Rojas, likely a cousin considering her address towards the town artisans.

The inkling something big was on the horizon had been itching at Ayla’s brain for about a week now. Ayla’s gut hadn’t been proven wrong yet, and it was currently screeching that something terrible was going to happen to the child she had come think of as a niece or even daughter. She was sure it had to do with the poor girl’s family relatives. Ayla sighed as Mirabel rushed in from a late breakfast with Daniella to help her finish tailoring and package then deliver the suit that the Madrigals had ordered for their newest child’s gifting ceremony. This child was something of a mystery to the village. The big family kept the child swaddled in the shadows of obscurity, never talking about him. The most that they knew was that the child was Pepa’s and Male. Ayla sighed, she and her sisters were going, but she wasn’t looking forward to it, what with the weird feeling she was getting thinking about it. What was going to happen now? The last time she had felt like this was the week before Mirabel had appeared lugging around little Tonito in a big basket. That didn’t bode well for whatever realization was coming up.

“Mirabel?” The seamstress asked as the girl finished the last few stitches on the pants’ hem. Her apprentice looked up and gave the nod to continue, “Are you going to the Gifting Ceremony tonight?” The girl gave a tight smile and another nod before explaining: (“Don’t really have a choice. My entire family’s going to be there”). The seamstress took a bit to parse the string of sounds, the silence stretching a bit with the quiet swish of touching up the light golden floral design on the white vest. “Do you think you could introduce me to your mama? You talk about her all the time, and she sounds like a great woman. I’d love to meet her.” Mirabel’s eyes grew a bit in thought as she finished folding the clothing into a box for delivery. (“Maybe, it might be a bit hard since she’s been a bit quiet recently. I know she’ll be there with us though, so it’s not impossible.”) Ayla smiled; at least something good could come from this feeling that gave her the jitters. “I’ll look forward to it.” Seeing that Mirabel was ready to go, she tacked on, “See you tonight, stay safe, mi sobrina.” Mirabel nodded and gave her usual goodbye.

The walk back to Casita wasn’t all that eventful, just a few waves towards some of her previous clients. Although the pleasant mood was lost soon after she returned her mother’s wave of greeting.

“Ah, lucky I caught you!” So came a voice from behind her. She turned and saw Osvaldo approaching on his donkey, which he got off of and pulled out a basket of decorations.

“Signora Alma ordered some decorations last minute. I’m lucky someone was here to receive it.” Mirabel nodded skeptically; Osvaldo wasn’t a very nice man in her experience. Of course, he never got physical, but he wasn’t brilliant either. Moreover, he was susceptible to the sheep mentality the villagers tended to have towards rumors, which made him something of a chore to deal with.

"I gave you the special." A pleased smirk appeared on the man's face as he set the basket in front of her.

"I call it the not-special special. You know, 'cause you're the only madrigal without a gift."

Mirabel stared at him blank-faced. Her mama seemed to wake from her thoughtfulness and rumbled ("I swear if he doesn't..."). The girl stomped on a tile that had started swirling in rage to stop her, gaining a small yelp from the house.

Thankfully the man had started walking away after she nodded her thanks for the basket. Maybe she would be freed of this trying man sooner than she expected. Then he turned, "Oh, tell the newest madrigal Good luck." She smiled a bit. Maybe he wouldn't- "The last Gift ceremony was a bummer." Her smile became more forced, and the shingles started rattling incoherently.

"The Last one being yours." The smile dropped, and the shingles were hopping now as the whole patio started quivering. Mirabel didn’t respond to her mama’s rage this time. If he continued, he deserved whatever Cassie did to him. He knew very well what happened to the gossipmongers when they flapped their gums about her around her mama.

"That did not work." That was the last straw for the house as every entrance burst open, and the shingles started flying as quickly as they could be magically replaced at the man, who beat a hasty retreat to his donkey. The Doors and windows fluttered, then all snapped shut again ("And don't you dare come back!")

Mirabel just huffed in amused exasperation and placed the box with Antonio’s suit in the abandoned basket. A small grunt of exertion, and she was on her way into …. (Organized?) Chaos. There was a tornado in the middle of the courtyard, flowers were all over the place, and people chaotically setting up for the party. The tornado was courtesy of a catastrophizing Pepa, who was slowly calmed down by Felix reminding her of the decorations she was whirling up in her nerves. Then Seniorita Perfecta Isa swings in on a vine swing and lands in front of Mirabel. A whole new burst of flowers appeared with a flick of her hand, bumping into Mirabel as the younger sister headed towards the kitchen. Isa huffed, “A little sisterly advice if you want to keep in Abuela’s good books, stay out of the way like you’ve been doing.” Mirabel’s hackles rose, and she raised an eyebrow, replying somewhat bitterly, “I was minding my own business on my way to the kitchen. You’re the one who flew in and didn’t look where she was going.” Mirabel left before Isabella could get the slapped fish look off her face, dodging the tree that sprouted in her path to prove her point.

Her pit stop in the kitchen hadn’t been all that long, just unpacking the basket while weaving out of Julietta’s way as the woman cooked up a storm for the party and healed Agustin. He apparently had a run-in with the bees again, cutting more firewood for the oven. Casita had quickly shuttled the decorations to where they were needed. She had also delivered the suit to the nursery for her to help Antonio into before the ceremony. Then Mirabel had slipped off to aid in the decorating.

She had been putting up some streamers over each of the claimed doors, using tiles that Cassie had stacked to work as a stepladder. She had just finished with some nice mauve ones over Alma’s when a loud “Get it Done!” had echoed just off to her left, startling her and causing her to pull down the entire string she had spent a quarter of an hour putting up. The string wrapped her up as she turned to catch herself. She rolled over just in time to see the disturbed look on Alma’s face before she quickly smoothed it over into concern.

Mirabel quickly disentangled herself and stood, brushing off her dress, feeling the judgemental gaze on the back of her neck as she gathered up the streamers she had pulled down. “Maybe you should leave the decorations to someone …else.” Seemingly aware of the townsfolk watching her, Alma added some compassion to her voice. “I’m aware that you want to help out. But. Sometimes the best way … some of us … can help is to step aside. Leave the job to those more suited to them.” Mirabel just looked back flatly and nodded once, almost shoving the streamers into the nearby Jose’s arms as she walked off. But before she did, Mirabel barely heard Alma muttering, “If tonight doesn’t go perfectly, oh, I don’t even want to think about what could happen.” Shaking her head, she leaned against the wall around the corner, her mama tilting the tiles against her arm reassuringly to calm her down. Unnoticed by everyone but Cassie, more defined fractures that had sprouted from Mirabel’s figure as she retreated from Alma sealed up as the girl calmed down. In the distance, she heard, “PEPA, you have a cloud.” Before a distressed voice replied with, “I KNOW Mama! I can’t find Antonio anywhere! The ceremony is in two hours, and I haven't even gotten him into his suit. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!”

Mirabel sighed. Well, here was one way she could help today.

Mirabel carefully shouldered open the door to the nursery, seeing the box that held Antonio’s suit empty on his dresser. She slowly paced over to the bed and dropped down onto it, opening her bedside table, moving aside the embroidery project that she had worked on last night to find the wrapped present she had made a few weeks back and hidden there.

Giving a huff, she bounced on the bed twice and got up, spending a good while pretending to look around in all the weirdest places in the room. When no giggles were produced from the little gremlin she knew was under the bed, a worried look crossed her face (“Mijo? Pepa’s looking for you. Didn’t you promise me that you would let her watch you today?”) No response from the bed. Mirabel gave a sigh (“Well, I guess if you aren’t here, I can’t give you your birthday present. Too bad, It’s pretty –“) before she could finish, two hands reached out and grabbed the present, pulling it under the bed. Mirabel snorted and slipped under the bed next to Antonio. ("What’s wrong?”) Knocking in a confined space was harder for her, but she could probably manage. Her hijo just let out a tiny, “I don’t know.” Mirabel produced something akin to a hum of thought and took a hunch based on experience.

(“It will work; I’m pretty sure it will. And if it doesn’t, you’ll stay with me in here, and Mama will probably toss Candle out of his window.”) Cassie gave a few tile clicks of approval when Mirabel produced a razzberry as she mimicked the candle landing after flying through the air. (“If Candle doesn’t go splat and you just so happen to not join my exclusive club of one. I promise that I won’t stop loving you. Even if you get the most enormous awesomest room and never visit my little nursery again.”)

“But what if I forget about you too? I don’t want to be like the rest of our relatives. I don’t want to just be another person to you like everyone, or only watch you around town like Dolores. I don’t want to lose you, Abuelita, or any of our Titas. And If I get a gift, I won’t be able to spend time with you anymore." Antonio said worriedly.

Mirabel sighed, knowing that knocking wouldn’t be able to handle what she wanted to say to her little boy. So she mustered up as much willpower as she could and opened her mouth, “Ay, Mijo. You’ll never lose us.”

Antonio looked a bit shocked, knowing that today wouldn’t be one of Mami’s vocal days.

“You know that song that I always hum.” She hummed a bit of it, and Antonio nodded. “Julietta used to sing it to me all the time before my Gift Ceremony, and she told me that Alma sang it to her and her siblings before that. I don’t think I’ve ever sung you the lyrics, have I?” A head shake.

“Well, the chorus goes:

Oh, Caterpillars,

Don’t you hold on too tightBoth of you knowIt’s your time to growTo fall apart, to reuniteWonders await youJust on the other sideTrust they’ll be thereAnd start to prepareThe way for tomorrow.”

She sang, her arm draping over his shoulder, giving him a squeeze as the bittersweet lyrics flowed over him.

“Sometimes, when you love someone so much, you need to let them go and trust that they’ll find their way back to you. Cause if you hold onto them too tightly, you’ll just crush them and never let them spread their wings.” She sniffled a bit.

“It’s hard, letting you go, knowing that you may never come back. But I trust you and know that you will find your way back to me no matter what. Because I love you, Mijo, and I know you love me too.”

Antonio hugged her back, “I do love you, Mami. I’ll fly back to you, I promise.”

Mirabel’s willpower petered out at that confirmation, and she breathed out, (“Well, that’s enough talking about sad junk. I just happen to have an awesome birthday gift for an awesome birthday boy.”) She pushed over the gift.

Antonio opened it to find three things. A stuffed Jaguar and a silver neckerchief slide engraved with a Chess rook behind a Jaguar cub with a butterfly on its ear. Both were wrapped in a brown and red neckerchief with animals embroidered over it, his name embroidered on a corner in his Mami’s fancy cursive, a little yellow butterfly in place of the ‘I’ in his name.

(“I figured out pretty quickly that you were an animal guy. And the other two are because I want everyone to remember that above all else. No matter what gift you get, no matter what awesome room you may sleep in: you are my hijo, and nothing will change that.”)

Antonio smiled and put his head against her shoulder. She squeezed a little tighter, wanting this moment to last as long as possible. But, instead, they got about five minutes before her Mama started bouncing the Jaguar plush and brought over the alarm clock.

(“Is it really that time, Mama?”) Mirabel asked, double-checking against her pocket watch. (“It is. Well, looks like we have to go see how far you’ll fly before coming back and telling me all about it. You ready, Mijo?”) She asked, giving him a bump on the shoulder at the end.

Antonio nodded. Mirabel gave a somewhat pained smile and started to crawl out, only to pull him back one more time. The floorboards under them made waves. Antonio giggled and said, “Ok, Ok, Abuelita, we’re going. We’re going.”

After they had gotten out from under the bed, Mirabel had smoothed out Antonio’s suit and sent him outside the room as she changed into her party clothes. The earings stayed in, but she traded the dress for a stone grey blouse, a terracotta red-orange skirt that went to her ankles, and a brown shawl over her shoulders as it was a bit chilly at night right now. Now wearing her battle dress, she went to the door, breathed in and out, and took Antonio to the entry hall.

When they got there, she gave Antonio a little push towards Felix and Pepa, the two gushing about how adorable and grown-up he looked. Antonio looked a little awkward but accepted the compliments. Once he was in his birth parents’ custody, she slipped over to Dolores and pulled her out of normal earshot. Once more gathering her willpower, despite knowing that Dolores could somewhat understand knocking, she whispered to her. “Dolores, Promise me that if he gets his gift, you’ll watch over him.” Dolores went to say something, but Mirabel rode over her, “I know that we don’t talk anymore, but you are my favorite Prima, so PLEASE, even if Antonio forgets me, I need to know that he'll be ok. PLEASE, watch over him if I can’t, PLEASE.” Mirabel’s eyes got a little misty, but she held in the tears and settled a severe gaze on her favorite (only, the bitter voice cajoled) prima.

“Mirab-“ “PROMISE, please,” Mirabel asked.

“Of course. I promise, Mira. I know I haven't been the best sister or prima. But I’ll make sure he’s safe." Dolores responded a bit teary herself, “And if you need anything, ask. I’ve regretted letting our friendship fall on the wayside for all these years. So if you want to do anything, just let me know.”

Mirabel nodded and hugged Dolores. She knew she could trust her.

Dolores straightened, gave Mirabel one more squeeze, and walked over to her parents. “Abuela says it’s time.” The four of them walked through the curtain, giving Antonio vague words of encouragement. Mirabel just stood in the doorway, leaning against a pillar, watching and waiting for the curtain to rise and her little caterpillar to pull away.