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Camilo groaned when he heard small footsteps behind him. “Mira, stop following me.”
Mirabel giggled. “Aww, Milo, play with me!”
“I don’t want to.”
“Now that’s a lie!”
“It’s not.”
“It is.”
“Is not. ”
“It is. ”
Camilo sighed, trying to ignore her. He didn't want to play now. He wanted to eat. He was starving.
Mirabel skipped over in front of him, bouncing happily backwards. “Why are you so grumpy today?”
“I’m not grumpy.”
“You are!”
“Ugh, I’m not!”
“You ar–hh!”
Mirabel stumbled into a flower pot and fell there on her bottom. Camilo used that chance to break into running and hurrying down the stairs, changing into Luisa, then Isabela.
He sighed contentedly, not seeing his prima anywhere in his Isabela form. The entrance to their kitchen was the only thing he had his eyes on and the only destination of his little trip, for the moment.
“Camilo!” he heard, then loud steps upstairs. “Isabela doesn’t slump like that, I know it's you!”
“Camilo’s not here, hermanita!” he called back in his best Isabela voice.
Mirabel groaned. “Casita, help me down!”
Camilo glanced over his shoulder to see Casita turning the stairs into a slide. Before Mirabel managed to get down, he started running and hurried into the kitchen. Upon seeing not seeing tía Julieta here, he turned into her and approached the counter, pretending to clean it with the nearest rag.
“Milo!”
Louds steps.
“Milo!”
The steps were getting closer.
“ Milo! ” the steps stopped. “Mami, Mami, have you seen Camilo?! He’s running away from me and I just want to play with him!”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Are you sure? He ran there! He must be somewhere here, is he hiding from me?”
“He’s not here, Mira.”
“But I saw him running in here,” she repeated, tugging at the apron. “Mami, tell me, please–”
“Can’t you just leave me alone?!” Camilo barked, though instead of his voice, it was Julieta’s voice, sounding like any of them ever heard it. Mirabel yelped, jumping back in shock. “You’re following me all the time. Do you know how annoying it is?!” he asked, turning around, looking down at her. Mirabel started wringing her hands. “Go play with Casita or something and stop being such a baby!”
Mirabel’s big eyes stare back at him, fat tears gathering in them as she sniffled, backing away. Then, without a word, she turned around and ran out of the kitchen.
Camilo huffed, grabbing a plate with arepas his tía prepared earlier that day and turning back into himself.
He was starving and now he could eat in peace, he hoped.
It was slowly getting dark when Julieta called her family for dinner. It had been a long day spent in the village and their last meal together was a little later than usual, so she was sure they all would assemble in a matter of seconds. Her family must have been hungry. Especially Camilo.
Unsurprisingly, her sobrino was the first one to come to the dining room. Julieta raised her eyebrow, not seeing Mirabel with him, because she and Camilo always seemed to be connected by a hip and did everything together, but the dinner was just beginning, so she gave her another few minutes.
Isabela and Dolores walked into the dining room together, Luisa trailing after them, talking with Pepa about something that made the redhead laugh.
The next to walk in were Félix and Agustín, who walked over to her to greet her with a quick peck on the lips.
“Have you seen Mirabel?” she asked, glancing back at the family, not seeing her youngest anywhere.
“No, but someone was in the bathroom when I was walking there, so she’ll probably be there soon.”
Julieta nodded and wordlessly handed him the last plate to carry to the table.
Alma walked into the dining room soon after and stood behind her chair at the head of the table. “Mi familia,” she said, admiring all the food placed on the table, then looking at her family. “Let’s start with a prayer–”
“Wait, mamá,” Julieta stopped her, looking around. “Mirabel’s still not here yet. Have you seen her?”
Alma raised one eyebrow, noticing the empty chair next to Julieta. “No. I came here straight from the bathroom and didn’t see her anywhere.”
“Maybe she fell asleep?” Pepa suggested. “You know how dead on their feet are our niños after spending a whole day being little troublemakers,” she smirked, patting Camilo's head.
The boy whined, trying to escape from under her hand.
“But I saw Camilo a few times since I came home a few hours ago and Mira wasn’t with him,” Dolores said quietly.
Isabela nodded. “I saw him sleeping in a hammock outside and Mira wasn’t there.”
Julieta felt a pang of anxiety but did everything she could to keep her cool.
Luisa stood up from her chair. “Maybe she’s sick? You know she’s always very sleepy when she’s sick.”
It was true. Her little Mirabel got a better immunity over the years, but since she was born much earlier than she should have, even the smallest cold could make her feel like she was fighting the worst of the cases of flu.
Julieta stood as well. “I’ll check on–”
Casita’s tiles rattled.
Alma tilted her head. “Go on.”
It was clear she had some sort of conversation with their house.
“Are you sure?” she asked, placing her hand over her heart. “When?”
“ Mamá?”
Alma raised her hand, silencing her. Casita moved the shutters, then a squeak followed. The matriarch pursed her lips. “Mirabel’s not home,” she announced.
Julieta’s throat tightened. “What do you mean she’s not home? It’s getting dark outside, it’s late. Dangerous–”
Not to add that Mirabel was scared of darkness. And she wore glasses. And she didn’t have any source of light with her. It was so easy to get lost. And the wild animals–
There were jaguars encounters in the past few months–
She flinched when Agustín clenched her hand, anchoring her in reality. She squeezed it back, her anxiety rising.
Alma stood from her chair. “Casita says Mirabel left the house a few hours ago and ran into the forest.”
The forest–
Dolores looked at Julieta with worry, for sure hearing how her heartbeat suddenly sped up.
“Why?” someone asked.
Camilo made a weird sound.
All eyes fell on him. Pepa laid her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. “Camilo?”
Félix looked at him as well. “Do you know something about it?”
“Your heartbeat is awfully fast,” Dolores remarked, her wide eyes focused on her brother.
“I–” he squealed and cleared his throat. “We kinda… fought.”
A grey cloud started gathering over Pepa’s head. “You kinda fought and…?”
“And I told her she was annoying and that she should leave me alone…”
Félix raised one eyebrow. “And…?”
Camilo took a deep breath and blurted out a quick: “ And I was shape-shifted into tía Julieta and Mirabel thought it was tía Julieta and she grabbed her apron, and she asked about me, and I got annoyed, and I told her she should leave me alone and stop following me because she’s annoying and that she should stop being such a baby and she might think it was tía Julieta who said that, she started crying and ran away? !”
A cactus sprouted in the middle of the table, a glass Luisa was holding broke, Pepa’s cloud thundered and Dolores squeaked, covering her mouth, then moving to cover her ears as Pepa shot out of her chair.
“ You did what?! ”
“I wanted to be left alone!” Camilo shouted and tears appeared in his eyes. “I didn’t want to play with her but she wouldn’t leave me alone!”
“Camilo Pedro–”
“Pepi–”
“When it was?” Julieta asked, and the table fell silent.
Camilo didn’t look at her. “Around three.”
Around three. It was almost eight in the evening.
“ Dios mío…”
Alma clapped her hands. “Dolores!” she called out and the girl in question uncovered her ears. “Can you hear Mirabel anywhere?”
Dolores closed her eyes and tilted her head, trying to listen. She winced and scrunched her head, but said nothing. Then she stood up from her chair, approached the window, opened it and tilted her head again, waiting for a sound.
Seconds passed, then almost a minute without her saying anything.
Julieta thought her heart must have beaten so fast it was probably distracting for her sobrina but she couldn’t calm herself down. Her motherly instinct and worry for her little girl were too strong to resist or control.
Dolores turned around, her lips pursed and her dark eyebrows pinched together. She folded her hands together. “I can’t hear her anywhere.”
Julieta gasped, feeling Agustín’s arm coming to rest on her waist.
They knew Dolores had trouble with understanding her gift fully and with recognising people by the way they breathed or cried, though she was getting better with her family members, but not hearing someone at all… Usually meant one.
Death. Or a serious injury.
Both things were bad.
Alma clapped her hands again. “We need to gather search parties and search the forest. This night would be colder than the rest,” she said, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders for the emphasis. “We need to find Mirabel quickly.”
When Mirabel first ran into the forest, she was a sniffling, crying mess that didn’t pay attention to the direction she was going in.
Now, a few hours later, she wished she did.
It was so dark and she hated it here, in the middle of the wilderness, where the leaves rustled loudly in the wind and once in a while, she could hear a branch nearby breaking under some weight.
Just a few minutes before she stumbled into a herd of capybaras that scared her so much she almost shrieked. But they turned out to b very calm and even friendly, walking around her, mainly ignoring her and treating her like she was just a natural part of their life.
She spent some time with them, tired, lost, thirsty and hungry, not knowing what to do next. But she felt safe there, or at least safer than when she was completely alone.
Mirabel looked around again. It was so dark and the trees were growing thick here, she couldn’t see much.
If it wasn’t for the full moon tonight, she was sure she would trip over her own feet with every step she took.
Instead, she sat down on a long log and curled her legs up to her chest, keeping them in place with her arms. She rested her chin on her knees and looked forward, trying to feel warmer in that position.
It was getting quite cold and she didn’t expect it. She just wanted to be hugged by someone, to be buried in the warm embrace by her mamá or–
No, not her mamá.
Her mamá didn;t like it. She didn’t want Mirabel near. She was annoyed by her.
Mirabel sniffled, feeling another wave of tears overcoming her.
Her mamá was always so kind and nice to her, and she gave the best kisses and hugs and always found time for Mirabel but now… Now she said she was tired and she didn’t like Mirabel’s company.
It broke her small heart.
Her mamá was the best and Mirabel loved her so much but it seemed mamá didn’t love Mirabel back.
Now, she had only her papá… Unless he didn’t love her as well.
She sobbed, hugging herself closer. What if her parents didn’t love her anymore? Was it because she didn’t get a gift? They always said she was special no matter what but what if they lied?
Maybe it was good she got lost. She disappeared, just like tío Bruno. And they would forget about her soon, just like they forgot about tío Bruno.
Suddenly, she heard loud squeaking. The herd of capybaras that kept her company started running in all directions, making all kinds of loud, squealing noises.
Then, Mirabel heard a low rumble. Something that sounded like a roar.
She turned her head and spotted a pair of eyes glowing in the dark metres away from her.
The animal growled again.
Mirabel screamed.
Julieta whipped around when she heard a loud scream coming from the forest. She didn’t have to have Dolores’s superhearing to hear it. It was so loud, so full of fear, so… Like Mirabel.
Her sobrina, who volunteered to accompany her along with Isabela, ran to her side, her hand cupped behind her ear.
“She’s there,” she pointed in the direction of a small trail that encroached a long time ago, probably not used very often by the villagers. “ Tía, I hear some animal, a jaguar, I think.”
Before any of them could move, Isabela was running forward, her vines pushing the wild plants aside, clearing the way for them.
“Isa, wait!” Julieta called after her and both she and Dolores followed her deeper into the forest.
The trees were getting thicker the further into the wild they went. The lamp Julieta had in her hand just by the sheer miracle hadn’t gone out yet, with how much it was shaking and swinging from side to side.
Dolores was still listening, commenting every few seconds with another ‘I hear a growl’, ‘she’s crying’, ‘the jaguar’s still there’, ‘she’s terrified’. Julieta understood, she was terrified as well. If something happened to her baby–
Isabela was now a great distance ahead of them, her own lamp dimming and burning anew with her every movement.
Suddenly they heard another scream, a loud crying, and Isabela shot forward, pulling herself on her vines.
Then a loud growling, more screaming, Isabela shouting something and a loud rustle of leaves and branches as something big ran into the forest, running away from them.
When Dolores and Julieta emerged into a tiny clearing close to a small, rather shallow body of water, they saw Isabela and Mirabel clinging to her with her arms wrapped around her older sister’s waist.
Isabela whipped her head to look at them. “I got her, mamá.”
“Mirabel!” She hurried to them, still panting after a running session they just made, not in the shape to run so much and for so long, and collapsed to her knees next to Mirabel, grabbing her face and looking deep into her brown eyes. “Are you hurt?”
There was the tiniest shake of her head.
Julieta exhaled a relieved breath and stroked Mirabel’s chubby cheeks. Her hija trembled.
“You’re freezing,” she said and pulled Mirabel in for a hug, wrapping her arms around the girl’s small frame and running her hand down Mirabel’s head and back. “Oh mi amor, I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“But–”
“No buts,” she said and broke their embrace to cup Mirabel’s face between her hands, stroking her temples with both thumbs. “You have no idea how worried I was about you.”
“But you said–” Mirabel’s lip wobbled and she sniffled again. “That I should leave you alone. So now you’re lying, you were glad I was gone.”
“No, I wasn’t. I was so, so worried. I thought you were hurt or worse,” she stopped, looking Mirabel over instinctively. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Stop treating me like a baby,” Mirabel whined, trying to push her hands away. “I’m not a baby!”
“You’ll always be my baby, Mirabel,” Julieta grabbed her hands, rooting her in place. “And it wasn’t me who said all those things, mija. It–”
“It was Camilo,” Dolores stated quietly.
“He was angry and stupid and didn’t think, ” Isabela crossed her arms over her chest, rolling her eyes.
Mirabel sniffled again. She looked Julieta in the eyes. “It wasn’t you?”
“No, mi vida.”
“So you don’t think I’m annoying?”
“Not at all.”
“And you’re not angry that I like to spend time with you?”
“No, mi amor. I love it. I love my baby,” she said with a smile on her lips. “Some of my hijas don’t like to spend time with me,” she drawled, glancing at Isabela. The girl huffed, looking away. “So I’m cherishing that at least my youngest still loves me.”
“Mamá…” Isabela rolled her eyes again; her tone exasperated.
Mirabel giggled. “Te amo mucho mamá!” she exclaimed and threw her arms around Julieta’s neck, hugging her tight. “I was so scared,” she whispered.
“Lo sé.”
“This jaguar was so big and loud. It looked hungry, too.”
Julieta held her a little tighter. “Lo sé.”
A bit of silence and–
“I’m hungry too. And I wanna some orange juice. And I wanna papá.”
Julieta smiled. “It all can be arranged.”
“And I’m tired…”
Julieta recognised that pleading, innocent tone. Mirabel wanted to be carried.
She was glad her youngest was smaller than her peers, at this moment. It made things so much easier in situations like this one.
Mirabel giggled when Julieta scooped her up and she wrapped her legs around her mother’s waist and her arms around her neck, burying her face in Julieta’s neck.
Julieta adjusted her and turned to her oldest hija and sobrina.
The girls led the way back, and for a moment, Julieta was pitying Camilo for the talk Pepa and Félix would give him as soon as they returned home with Mirabel all safe and sound in Julieta’s arms.
She kissed Mirabel’s head, thanking God her daughter was safe. She never wanted to live through something like that ever again.