Under the Butterfly Tree

Chapter 6: To Fall Apart

In the morning, I slipped into the kitchen as quietly as possible, and began reviving the banked coals in the stove. My hope, faint though it might be, was to avoid any mention of the previous night. The best chance of making that hope a reality was to do my chores and keep out of my parents' sight as much as possible.

I scooped the ashes. Though I frequently disagreed with my mother, I was not often given to disobedience. Certainly, never in my life had I transgressed on the level I had been accused of the night before. I arranged fresh logs. It stung to know my parents could so readily assume the worst of me.

I gently breathed on the coals, encouraging them to spread their heat into the wood above. The emerging flames were somehow satisfying. As I watched, I considered that if my parents thought so little of me, maybe I shouldn't care about their expectations anymore. Maybe I should let my need for their approval burn with the fire.

I'd sneak off as soon as I could manage. I had to see Bruno. I needed to tell him --

My mamá appeared next to me and started organizing ingredients. "Your papá and I have been talking," she began, not looking at me.

Remembering the muffled sounds of arguing I'd heard after going to bed, I suppressed a sarcastic yeah, I could hear. I didn't look at her, either, or answer her at all. I wondered how long I could keep my silence. Not long at all, as it turned out.

"Now that a path has been found, we will be leaving the Encanto."

My heart froze. "What?"

"My sisters are out there, somewhere. I know they are. Your papá's family, too. We have been apart from them for too long."

"But ... this is our home!"

"It wasn't always."

Well, it had always been my home. I'd been born under that very roof. But that didn't seem to matter.

"When ..." I swallowed. "When will we go?"

"Soon. We need to leave before the heavy rains start, otherwise the way may be closed off. But before we go, we will need to trade off as much as possible. We will only be able to take what we can pack on donkeys, because carts cannot go through." She turned to me at last. "Still, that will be more than we had when we arrived. Your papá and I carried one bag each." Smiling, she ruffled my hair, as though she had not just told me she was ruining my entire life. "And I carried you, in my belly."

"Mamá," I protested, barely holding back my tears. "Everything I know is here."

"I know it's hard, mija. But think of it -- there are so many things and places out there that you haven't even dreamed of. There's a whole family you've never met. There is a whole world out there waiting for you -- this place is just the end of it."

"Everything I love is here."

That was the wrong thing to say. Mamá's sympathetic demeanor evaporated as she turned stone-faced. "You are not talking about that boy, I hope. Did I not make myself clear?"

"Are we really picking up our entire lives and leaving just because I'm friends with Bruno Madrigal?"

"Believe it or not, not everything is entirely about you. Did your papá and I make plans to leave because of him? No. Are we expediting our departure because of him? Yes. Your behavior has made things very uncomfortable between ourselves and Alma Madrigal."

"She doesn't dislike me. Or she never seemed to."

"Maybe not before last night."

"Can I at least tell him" -- I need to tell him I love him -- "goodbye?"