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foreveranevilregal · 6 months

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Encantober Day 25: Quiet

Dolores loved the quiet.

She loved when everything was silent, and she could hear her own heartbeat. When the hustle and bustle of daily life would die down and stillness would reign over all, like a blanket of rest draped over their town. Once the sounds of everyday life would cease, her mind would clear and she could just stay in the respite, away from the noises assaulting her for most of her waking hours. Just perfect calm quiet; the backdrop to which Dolores would journal.

She was as thrilled as the rest of the family when Antonio had gotten his gift. But…she could have done without the fireworks. The explosions felt like they were ripping her chest apart. And the booming music- as much as she loved to dance, she preferred quieter, more unassuming pieces that took the time to build their beauty as opposed to this party fare. After a few obligatory dances, she retreated to the back of the crowd, hanging out with her tía Julieta who also wasn’t a big party person.

Finally, the party wound down. Guests trickled out in small groups, heading home. Dolores assumed some would continue the party, but as long as it wasn’t right next to her eardrums, it was all right by her. She helped pick up the dirty dishes and cups strewn about by the partygoers and placed them in the kitchen gingerly, careful not to knock them against one another to create that ringing sound that echoed for a small eternity. Feeling tired, she excused herself and retired to her bedroom. Her refuge, her haven, in which Casita had mercifully dampened the noise levels to be more tolerable.

As she wrote in her journal, her ears wandered unconsciously. She could hear her tía and tío in the kitchen, washing the dishes. Crashing ensued, followed by a soft tinkling noise that could only mean broken glass.

“Ay, Agustín…” tía Julieta murmured, exasperated. “How many times must I tell you to leave the dishes be? I’ll take care of them.”

“Well what am I supposed to do then?” Tío Agustín asked, making a small humming sound as if something was blocking his mouth. Then a smacking sound like lips leaving skin…Nope. Nope nope nope. Dolores shuddered.

“You go say good night to the girls.” Tía Julieta set down the plate she had presumably been washing. “And check on Mirabel, will you? I’m worried about her…” Her voice trailed off. “That whole thing with the cracks in the floor…maybe we’re putting too much pressure on her?” Her voice lilted upwards uncertainly. “Maybe she’s the one cracking, mi amor.”

“Of course.” A softer kiss, probably on her tía’s cheek. “I’ll check on the girls. You take care of these dishes. And then I’ll take care of you.”

Dolores didn’t need superhuman vision to know her tía was blushing. “Ay, Agustín…” she purred.

And Dolores had heard enough. She really didn’t need to know any more about her tío and tía’s love life. She was so grateful that Casita had somehow soundproofed their room completely. There were some thing Dolores simply did not need to hear.

But the part about Mirabel was interesting…was she really that upset as to make up a story about seeing cracks in the floor? Could her abuela possibly be right about Mirabel being jealous? Mirabel really didn’t strike her as the jealous type, but no one else had seen the cracks. Maybe there was something there…

Dolores wrapped up her entry and closed her journal. She could hear the other members of her family beginning to wind down as well; changing into sleep clothes, washing up, doing everything they needed to do before bed. Her papá sang a cheerful tune as he showered. Dolores giggled. He was so cheesy, but she loved him. He just made life more fun.

Right next door, Camilo was putting on some kind of performance. She figured he was playing all the characters, changing into each one as needed since she heard a variety of voices coming from his room. He was very creative, but Dolores hoped he’d keep it down soon as it was Antonio’s bedtime.

Down the hall, Antonio didn’t seem overly concerned about bedtime. He was laughing, the sound distorted as he moved through the room. Was he running? Riding the jaguar again? Carried by a toucan through the air? Who knew? Either way, through the cacophony of animal calls, she could hear him whooping and asking questions. He was halfway through naming all the animals when Dolores decided she couldn’t stand the din anymore and shifted her attention elsewhere.

Across from them, Luisa set down her weights with a thud. How she had the discipline to do her exercises every night, Dolores had no idea. It was honestly admirable. She heard the sheets rustle as Luisa got into bed and a muted creak as she opened a hardcover book. She’d seen her mamá talking to Luisa a few days ago and mamá had lent Luisa a book. Probably one of the romance novels she and Dolores were so fond of. Dolores heard the pages flutter as Luisa read onward in silence, broken only by a sharp gasp or a dreamy sigh. Deep down, Luisa was a hopeless romantic too, just like the two of them. Dolores really hoped she found someone special.

To one side of Luisa’s room, Dolores heard muffled crying. She wasn’t sure who it was; it wasn’t a cry she had heard before. But then she heard the slithering of vines and scraping of a leaf against skin as Isabela presumably wiped her tears on one of her plants.

“I’m going to marry Mariano,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I can’t believe it.”

As if Dolores needed to be reminded. She loved Isabela like a sister, but it hurt her deeply that Isabela would get to marry Mariano, the man she loved, just because she was older. Older! Ha! Isabela wasn’t even a full month older! A matter of a few weeks decided which one of them got a happy ending, and which one a broken heart. Dolores was seething. As she heard the sound of Isabela’s hairbrush gliding through her hair, Dolores hoped one of the one hundred strokes would yank it all out.

Dolores shook out her head. It wasn’t right for her to be thinking like that. She had been raised to love her family and support them, no matter what. Even if seeing them happy twisted a knife into your own heart…

A different cry broke through; more plaintive, desperate, a series of sniffling sobs. The sound was muted by a pillow, based on the weird low echo that resulted. Who was this?

“I was just trying to warn them,” Mirabel whispered quietly, followed by a hiccup. “I would never ruin Antonio’s night. I’m so happy for him!” It sounded to Dolores like Mirabel was trying to convince herself it was true. “He gets to have a gift. It’s what we all wanted.” It occurred to Dolores that Mirabel was sleeping in the nursery all by herself for the first time in years. “I just wanted to help my family…for once…” A choked back cry was followed by more quiet sobs.

Dolores’ heart broke. Poor Mirabel. She had no idea it was so hard on her. Voices floated through the air, growing louder as their speakers grew closer.

“…making a scene on Antonio’s special night,” her mamá whispered. “It’s not like Mirabel. Why would she act out like that?”

“I don’t know, mi vida, but let’s not worry about it anymore tonight, eh? Let’s just get some rest.” Dolores could hear the fabric of her mamá’s dress moving as her papá rubbed her back soothingly.

“Don’t tell me not to worry,” her mamá grumbled, punctuated by a low roll of thunder.

“I’ll give you a nice massage, and then you’ll forget all about it,” her papá offered.

Her mamá giggled. Their voices grew quieter as they went towards their bedroom. “And then we can…”

Dolores gagged. She heard the words, but her mind blocked out any meaning they had so they were just noises going into one ear and out the other. She was especially grateful their room was soundproofed too.

Instead, she let her ears wander back down towards the kitchen again. She had left some food out for Bruno, hoping her tía wouldn’t notice the “accidentally” forgotten food that no one had cleaned up. The scurrying of the rats told her it had found its intended recipient.

“Mm, this is good,” Bruno mumbled around a mouthful of food. “Not sure who keeps leaving food out for me, but thanks!”

Dolores smiled. You’re welcome, tío, she thought. She waited patiently for him to finish eating, but her attention was drawn by another unexpected sound.

A door across the hall creaked open. The sound of tiny footprints pitter-pattering across the wooden floor, stopping when another door creaked open.

“Mirabel?” Antonio’s voice called out unsurely.

“Mm, what is it, Antonio?” Dolores heard the hoarseness in Mirabel’s voice that she was undoubtedly trying to pass off as being awoken from sleep, based on the extremely fake yawn she gave, but that really stemmed from her crying.

“I can’t sleep. My new room is really big and the animals won’t leave me alone. Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Come here.” Dolores heard the rustling of sheets and creaking of the mattress as Mirabel made room for him on the bed.

Antonio climbed in, humming contentedly. “Thanks, Mirabel.” His voice was slightly muffled. He was probably snuggling up into Mirabel.

“You got it, kid.” Mirabel tucked the blanket around them. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Dolores was touched by the moment. But just as she was about to wipe a tear of her own from her eye, she heard a loud scraping echoing from down below. Moving furniture. Which could only mean…

“Yes!” Dolores cried out quietly. Tío Bruno was performing another installment of his latest play (she had heard him refer to it as a telenovela, though she didn’t know why, since as far as she knew, novelas came in books). She snuggled in under her blanket, beaming from ear to ear as the action began.

It picked up right where it had left off the last time, with José and María about to kiss, when smoke billowed and José cried out in surprise.

“Carmen!” He recoiled, jumping back. “You look just like María! But how-“

“I have my methods,” she answered slyly. Dolores squeaked. She could hear the sound of footsteps, no doubt Carmen walking around José. Carmen thought she was so clever, but Dolores knew she’d probably bought a potion from the witch featured in the last installment.

“It was that witch, who was traveling through town! She helped you change your appearance,” José deduced.

Dolores muffled her triumphant cry with her pillow. Called it!

“Aren’t you smart?” Carmen crooned, her hand trailing along José’s stubble. “If only you were smart enough not to fall for it.”

“But I didn’t fall for it!” He protested.

“Oh no?” Carmen let out a delicate cackle. “I’m not sure María would agree.”

Dolores’ stomach sank. What had Carmen done to María?

“María?” José spun around wildly. “Where is she?”

“How could you?” María’s voice echoed hollowly around them. “I loved you.”

That past tense hit Dolores in the gut like a load of bricks. She had really been rooting for those two to end up together.

“Where are you keeping her, you-“

“Now, now. Let’s not do anything you’ll regret. Otherwise, poor María might pay the price.”

Dolores’ eyes widened in shock. Carmen wouldn’t hurt María…would she?

José growled in frustration. His hands must have closed around Carmen’s neck because Dolores could hear a strangled gagging. “Tell me where you’re keeping her!” He demanded.

“I’ll tell you, but first you have to do something for me.”

“What is it?” He sounded curious.

Dolores was curious too. What did Carmen want him to do?

“And scene!” Bruno called out dramatically.

Rats chittered around him.

“I know, but we have to save something for next time,” Bruno explained.

Dolores let out a frustrated exhale. How could she sleep now? Not knowing what would happen would keep her up all night!

“Besides, I haven’t come up with what’ll happen next yet,” Bruno said under his breath.

That was a more reasonable explanation. She really hoped he’d come up with it soon.

She tossed from side to side, trying to find a comfortable sleeping position. Today had been long and tiring. It seemed like all the other inhabitants of the house were able to fall asleep. Even Bruno, the perpetual night owl, was snoring away in the walls.

At last, it was silent. Dolores could hear her heart thumping in her chest. She could hear the floors creaking (Casita had done much weirder things, she didn’t worry about a little creaking). She could hear, as always, the rats running freely through the house, no doubt collecting more food for tío Bruno. She could hear…an eye twitch? She focused in on the sound. It was coming from Luisa’s room. Luisa’s eye only twitched when she was nervous about something. What was she nervous about?

Dolores listened intently to make out the garbled mumbles Luisa let out in her sleep. “Cracks…floor…magic…weak…” With a grunt, she flopped over and fell silent.

Dolores frowned. Luisa was worried about the magic? First it was Mirabel, now Luisa. Could there actually be something to worry about?

Her abuela’s voice drifted in through the window. She was praying to abuelo Pedro, holding the candle. Dolores could hear the wax dripping onto the small plate that held the candle. It sounded like she was worried too…

And now the rats scurried by, sounding even more agitated.

Groaning, Dolores shoved her pillow over her head. She just wanted it all to stop.

Dolores loved the quiet.

If only she could ever experience it.

#dolores madrigal #mirabel madrigal #bruno madrigal #antonio madrigal #luisa madrigal #pepa madrigal #felix madrigal #julieta madrigal #agustin madrigal #alma madrigal #isabela madrigal #camilo madrigal #encantober #encantober 2023 #quiet #foreveranevilregal writes #writing encanto #i'm actually really proud of this one

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