The Telling of Tales
That seemed to settle the argument mostly because clearly, Abuela valued her image in front of a stranger.
Mirabel wondered why bother and so did her sisters and cousins. Clearly, Sirius wasn’t an idiot, as the look in his eyes as he glanced at Abuela and the adults throughout the meal were any indication. And it didn’t take a genius to see that his presence had created a disagreement in the family’s adults.
Antonio scrambled to take the seat closest to Sirius next to Félix, “Are you feeling better now?” the little boy asked, completely oblivious to the implications of a stranger in the house and to the internal struggle of the adults.
Sirius looked surprised for a moment. Mirabel wondered if he was aware that he was a little scary-looking and was surprised that Antonio wasn’t afraid of him. Nevertheless, Sirius smiled at the child, “Yes, thank you,” he replied easily.
“Good,” Antonio said, “Because it’s my birthday today, and I don’t like it when people are feeling bad.”
Sirius beamed at Antonio with ease, and no one pondered whether with ‘bad’ Antonio meant ‘ill’ or ‘sad’. The boy probably meant both anyway, “Is it really?” he asked him, “And how old are you now?”
“Five!”
“Five!” Sirius echoed, “That’s an important age! You’re a little man, then!”
For a while, little Antonio engaging the stranger in conversation entertained them enough, as they could see what kind of person Sirius was. Despite his rather gruff and scary appearance, he sat straight and had table manners that clearly came from years of ingrained education. The manners of Abuela, a rather refined woman, were the only ones that compared to the table manners of this man who looked like a starving street bum and moved like a prince.
It was uncanny how good he was with children. He listened patiently to Antonio’s cheerful chatter as the little boy explained each member of his family and told him about the big party he was going to have that evening.
Luckily, they had all been instructed not to show off their gifts, even though Mirabel thought it was rather useless to do so when they had a magical house and glowing doors showing how their family was different. Sirius would have to be blind not to notice, though the guest room he’d been in was on the ground floor, whereas the glowing doors were on the first floor. So it was possible that he hadn’t noticed the magical doors over his head, especially if Félix and Agustín had led him to the breakfast table quickly.
As soon as the younger ones were done eating, Abuela sent them away to their duties, and Julieta offered another round of coffee.
“Do you have children, Sirius?” asked Félix, who, as usual, was easy-going and calm about anything.
Sirius looked up from his cup, “Excuse me?”
“I mean,” said Félix, “You seem to have a way with children.”
“Oh,” Sirius replied with a weak chuckle, “No, no. I like children just fine, but that is not in the cards for me. I am a godfather, though, to my best friend’s thirteen year old, Harry. He’s back in England.”
They all tensed. He had touched a subject they were all dying to know about.
“Ah, un Inglés!” exclaimed Agustín, with a nervous smile, “We knew you weren’t from around here, people don’t really get in this area, but England – you’re far away from home.”
Sirius smirked, “I was wondering when you would ask,” he said easily, “I imagine having a stranger in your home is rather distressful, isn’t it, Madam?” he addressed Abuela.
The woman was surprised but recovered quickly, “Sí,” she said with a dignified tone, “The world is full of dangers, and we have to think of our home, our people.”
Sirius nodded, “Oh, don’t I know,” he said, “I am ready to tell you all you wish to know about me, and I will be completely truthful though it can put me at great risk,” he smiled ruefully at their surprised looks, “That is how much I value your hospitality. Please, do whatever you have to do to feel reassured that I will tell you the truth.”
Sirius and Abuela locked eyes and stared at each other for a long time, though in the end, Abuela must have been satisfied, “Dolores,” she said, talking casually, as if her granddaughter had been in the room. Sirius blinked in surprise, “Could you join us in the kitchen, please?”
A few moments later, the girl strolled into the kitchen and casually sat down.
Sirius stared at them, confused, “What –?” he started.
“If we’re happy with your story,” Abuela said but they all knew she meant ‘if I am happy with your story’, “We’ll share our story.”
Still confused, Sirius smiled, “Fair enough,” he said and started his story.
He told them how he’d been accused of betraying his friend’s location to someone who had gone and killed him and his wife, leaving their child an orphan. He had been framed for the mass murder of thirteen people too and had been locked up in prison for twelve years. He then learnt that his godson was in danger, so he escaped from prison to defend him, but, of course, everyone thought he wanted to kill his godson instead.
He had managed to tell his godson the truth in the end, but he hadn't been able to prove his innocence to the rest of the world and was forced to go into hiding.
“I am sorry I cannot go into further detail. My memories are all a little blurred. But that’s why I was flying over – er – where are we exactly?”
There was a pregnant pause as they all pondered the story he told them. All eyes went to Dolores, who nodded immediately, “He’s telling the truth.”
Sirius blinked again.
Again, no one spoke for a while, until Abuela nodded, “Alright, we believe you,” she said and visibly relaxed, “As Julieta said, you’re welcome to stay until she deems you fit to travel but when you do leave, how do we know that you won’t tell anyone about our home?”
Sirius held her gaze, “You want me to keep this place a secret?” he asked, and they all nodded, “You must be joking. Why would I tell anyone where I am or where I was? So they can find me and chuck me back in prison for a crime I didn’t commit? No, thank you. Of course, I wouldn’t tell anyone. Not even my godson knows exactly where I am.”
Once again, Abuela glanced at Dolores, who nodded.
“Alright, then,” Abuela said finally, “We believe you. As Julieta said, you’ll stay with us until she thinks you’re well enough –"
“And it might take some time,” Julieta intervened.
“And it might take some time,” Abuela conceded while frowning disapprovingly at her daughter, not used to Julieta’s defiance, “So you might as well know how you ended up here, unconscious.”
“Yes,” Sirius said, “I was wondering when we could talk about that. I just remember falling into the forest… how did you find me?”
“It was actually Antonio,” Félix said, “He saw a black dog from his bedroom window and he ran outside so we chased after him but when we arrived there was no dog, just you unconscious on the ground.”
Dolores, who had left at Abuela’s request now that she was no longer needed, came back with a basket, setting it in front of her aunt Julieta.
“Ah, Padfoot, yes,” Sirius said.
“It’s your dog?”
“Yes,” Sirius replied in a non-committal voice.
“Oh but then we must go look for it!” Agustín said quickly, “A domestic animal alone in the jungle –!”
Sirius shook his head, “There’s no need. Padfoot is very well-trained to be in the wild and he had his fair share of encounters with wild animals. He’ll be fine till my Healer releases me,” he smiled at Julieta, then he paused, “So did I assume correctly or not – is this a magical house?”
“Yes,” said Abuela, her relatives all letting her take the lead as usual, “You don’t look shocked, though.”
Was she upset at Sirius’s lack of excitement? For sure, his reaction was calmer than that of anyone in town. The people knew all about the magic family Madrigal but they were always very excited to see the Madrigals and their magic exploits.
“Well, it is kind of obvious it’s magical, I was just being polite –”
“Abuela!”
They all turned to see Mirabel who paused on the kitchen door to catch her breath. They waited for her to speak but it seemed as if she was taking too long for Abuela.
“Mirabel, you just interrupted our guest while he was talking,” she chastised and though she spoke gently, it still felt out of place, when the girl looked up, finally ready to say what she had come to say.
“I’m sorry, Abuela,” she said breathlessly, trying and failing to appear as if the chastising didn’t faze her, “They need you in town, something about the new house. They sent me to tell you.”
Abuela looked at her pocket-watch, “Ah, it’s very late. I have to meet with the builders.”
Sirius’s face held an odd expression for a moment, before he smiled easily when Abuela looked at him, “Please, do not hold yourselves on my account,” he said, “I am sure we can continue this conversation later.”
“Mirabel, run along now,” Abuela said dismissively, and Sirius tilted his head at the needless sternness of the order, “We have to prepare for Antonio’s ceremony tonight and everything has to be perfect.”
“Sí, Abuela,” said Mirabel softly.