Sanando Tu Corazón

Pérdida

Deep in the Colombian jungle, where the trees grew so thick that the sun didn't reach the ground, a man stumbled through the brush. No one in their right mind would have been out there, but he wasn't out there because he wanted to be. His arm was broken below the shoulder, his jaw was dislocated, and he had two black eyes. He had lost track of how long he had been walking, but it had to be at least two days since he had last eaten or drank water. It was a miracle he hadn't been attacked by a wild animal. People always said there were jaguars in this jungle. Every step hurt and took more and more energy. When he tripped on a root sticking out of the ground for the fiftieth tune, he was 90% sure he broke his ankle too. Taking a few steps confirmed it. He wasn't in danger from those people after going so deep in the jungle, but he couldn't just stay put. He had to find help or he would be dead in maybe a day. So when he saw the faintest outline of a trail up ahead, he quickened his pace, but that was a terrible idea. Right as he reached the trail, his ankle snapped, sending him to the ground. The man let loose an agonizing scream before hitting his head hard. Everything went black, and he laid motionless on the ground.

Dinners were always chaotic in la casa Madrigal. Everyone talked about their days and anything interesting that happened. Camilo typically shifted and told stories and jokes, and Isabela would throw flowers at him when the jokes were bad, which happened a lot. Julieta spent a lot of time shooing animals away from the table because Antonio and, surprisingly, Agustín kept sneaking them food despite a strict ban on animals at the table. Mirabel would sit near Abuela and Bruno and talk with them, having successfully tuned out the chaos unless she suddenly got hit in the face with an arepa thrown at her by Camilo. But there was no chaos at dinner tonight.

Just over two years after Casita was rebuilt, the dinner table was silent. Everyone had food, but no one felt like eating. The anxiety in the room was palpable. Everyone's eyes kept moving between two chairs at the table that sat empty. Actually, there were three empty chairs. Dolores wasn't at the table. Mariano's seat next to her had been empty for six months. The third empty chair was Félix's, and his empty place was the main source of anxiety at the table. Pepa stared at her full plate with no appetite as a gray cloud hovered over her head. Antonio looked at Mirabel, unsure why everyone was so upset.

"Mira?" he asked.

"Yes, primito?" Mirabel replied softly.

"Didn't papá say he would be home in time for dinner?"

Everyone else heard Pepa's breath hitch in her throat. "Yes, he did."

"Then why isn't he home yet?"

A drizzle started descending out of Pepa's cloud, which stretched over the entire table. "I don't know, buddy. But I'm sure he'll be back soon."

Antonio nodded. "Why did Dolores go back upstairs?"

"She said she could listen better for your papá in her room."

"But her room is soundproof."

Dolores's room was soundproof, yes. But she had other reasons to be up in her room instead of with her family downstairs. First of all, she was exhausted. Félix had only been going on the monthly trading missions to the city outside the Encanto for about five months, and Dolores refused to sleep from the moment he left until the moment she could hear him step through the crack in the mountains and say her name. It had been 36 hours. She hated that the trade missions happened at all. Up until six months ago, Mariano had led the monthly trading trips, along with a few other villagers. But in December, he went to the city and got in a disagreement with one of the market vendors. The vendor was confused over something Mariano said and got angry, so he pushed him. Mariano lost his balance and hit his head hard on the concrete. They didn't have healing food on hand in order to protect the Madrigal magic from outsiders, so they took Mariano and rushed him home. He held on long enough for Dolores to say goodbye, and then he passed in the arms of his wife of one year. So Dolores hated the trading missions, and she would not rest until she knew her father was home safely. Three months after Mariano died, Dolores gave birth to Gabriel, her little boy, her sunshine that helped her out of the darkness. When he opened his eyes for the first time and Dolores saw deep brown eyes identical to Mariano's staring back at her, she knew everything would be okay eventually. When her father didn't get home for dinner like he promised, her brain immediately went to the worst-case scenario. She just knew he was dying or dead somewhere out in the rest of the world she had never seen, the world that took her husband away from her. And she couldn't just sit downstairs with her family and worry. She had a baby to take care of. Gabriel was asleep at the moment, so Dolores sat in a rocking chair next to his crib with the window open, silently pleading for her father's voice to reach her ears. Instead, she heard a knock on her door. "Go ahead, Casita," Dolores whispered. Ever since Gabriel had been born, Casita had been helping Dolores in her room with things like rocking Gabriel's crib, moving things for her, or, in this case, opening her door. She knew who it was, and it was the only person she wanted to see (other than her father or Mariano, but that goes without saying). Camilo walked in with a pot of tea, two cups, and a few arepas on a tray.