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Bruno woke to the sound of thunder.
As he flinched awake in his threadbare chair, Bruno heard the rumbling of footsteps down the hall, and into the kitchen. His heart sank. Was it breakfast already? Had he missed it? He scrambled up and out of his seat, wincing at the pain of what another night of sleeping upright, cramping his neck into place had done to him. He quietly fumbled towards the crack in the wall, bracing his palms against the wood, and looked out. No, no breakfast yet. It must be around seven or so. Julieta was preparing the ingredients for (what appeared to be,) Arepas de Huevo. Bruno smiled to himself. It already smelled incredible. He would certainly have to try to sneak some after the familia had gone.
Bruno watched his older sister work, stirring something (couldn’t see from this angle,) on the stove, humming a low sweet tune he recognized as el preso. He huffed through his nose. How fitting.
How he missed talking with her. He hummed to himself softly, disguising it under the hiss of the kettle that boiled on the stove. He flapped his hands happily as he watched his sister work.
Pepa, the obvious source of the commotion from early stormed (Heh.) in, a dark cloud hovering over her. Julieta turned, concern evident on her kind face. Behind Pepa, Felix, the good man, came following behind.
“Que?” Julieta said, her voice soft and comforting. “Did Mama say someth-”
“Por supuesto! What else from her?” Pepa snarled, reaching for a hand towel, which she used to wave away the dark cloud. “Clear skies, clear skies, clear skies…” As she leaned against the counter, arms folded, Felix gently took the towel away, using it to chase off the last of the cloud that tried to make its presence known, then going to wipe the last of the water off of her face. For a second, Pepa smiled at him, then a frown overtook her face once more. Julieta sighed, and set aside her stirring spoon, wiping her hands on her apron. Felix was always such a nice guy. Bruno was grateful he was so kind to his sister.
“Pepa. What did she say to you?” She asked.
“It wasn’t what she said to me. It’s what she said to Dolores!” Pepa growled. “Do you know what Dolores said to me? She said, last night, Mama told her not to take so much at dinner, that she was getting ‘too big’. Puedes creerlo?”
Julieta’s brow furrowed. “Dolores doesn’t need to listen to that. She’s lovely.”
“Of course she’s lovely! She’s beautiful! What does Mama have to pick on her for? And why would it be so bad if she got bigger, huh? What, she can’t be big and beautiful? My bebita is perfect as she is, no matter what.”
Julieta laid a hand on Pepa’s shoulder. “You know Mama doesn’t think of what she says, she only-”
“She knows enough to say what hurts. Why does she have to pick on Dolores? Lo juro, I could hit her with a lightning bolt, I’m so angry!” True to her word, a new dark cloud settled over her head, a lightning bolt flashing within.
Felix looked nervous. “Mi vida,” He said, rubbing her arm, deep voice soothing. “I know you’re very angry, but Dolores knows better than to be insulted by-”
Pepa whirled to face him. “Does she?” She demanded. “I may not have my daughter’s ears, but I heard her crying last night, I know you did, too. What, you think she cries for fun?”
Felix raised his hands. “No,” He said. “Lo siento. But let’s talk to her about it, before we go straight to… killing… your-”
Julieta loudly cleared her throat as Alma walked in. Pepa stared at her mother, stricken, before quickly waving away the cloud, and snatching the towel out of Felix’s hand, so she could quickly wipe her face. Alma watched her, eyebrow raised.
“Mama, I-” Pepa began, unlike earlier, when her voice was strong and confident, now, it was timid and quiet. Alma interrupted her, gesturing at Pepa’s face.
“Hija. Your mascara. It runs. Be certain to fix it before we go to work today. You look like La Llorona."
Pepa’s mouth dropped open, as did Bruno’s, behind the walls, but all Pepa could say in response was, “Si, mama.”
Alma left after questioning whether breakfast would be ready in time. Julieta promised a few more minutes, as Mirabel walked in to collect the plates Casita rolled towards her across the countertop.
Pepa walked out, Felix in tow, to go and rouse their children. Mirabel smiled at her mother, arms stacked with the plates.
“I think we’ll be having breakfast inside, this morning,” Julieta said. “I don’t think there will be much… er, ‘clear skies’, today.”
Mirabel shrugged. “That’s alright. Maybe after breakfast, I’ll work on that present for Antonio.”
“Really? His ceremony still isn’t for another two weeks!”
Bruno nodded. Antonio would get his gift soon. How special. He could only pray that it wouldn’t be such a curse as his was. Or that… he got a gift at all. Poor Mirabel. Bruno could only imagine how it would affect her if Antonio would be giftless, as well.
In the kitchen, Mirabel shrugged. “I know, mama, but I want it to be perfect! You know how scared he’ll be…”
“Si. What a sweet girl you are.” Julieta said, coming forward. She brushed Mirabel’s hair out of her face and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Now, vamanos Hija. We better get the table set.”
“On it! Casita, a little help?” The creaking of the casita around him showed Bruno that the Casita was obeying immediately. It was funny to him how much more the Casita seemed to take to Mirabel than any other members of the familia. Of course, the Casita interacted with everyone, familia, and guests alike, but it seemed to be different with Mirabel. Like she was closer, somehow. Not more loved, just more understood.
Bruno rubbed at the stubble on his chin. Interesting. He would try his best to watch Antonio’s ceremony from the cracks in the walls, but if Antonio got a room, it would be complicated to see inside of it. The rooms in Casita weren’t quite the same as other houses. The walls didn’t quite intersect. Of course, that was because the secret tunnels were made for him, but still…
In a few minutes, the rest of the family came in, sitting at the table. Bruno smiled, flapping his hands in excitement. He took his seat as well. He had no breakfast to share with them, but that was alright. Just to be there with them… that was enough.
The clink and clatter of dishes allowed Bruno to knock on the wood to his heart’s content, as only Dolores would hear him, and he knew very well by now she wouldn’t tell. He peeked through a slimmer crack, finger tracing over the carving on his little table.
Dolores was slumped slightly over her plate, face downcast. Unlike Camilo, who seemed to have made a personal goal to fit as much as he could into his mouth at once with every bite, Dolores picked lightly at her food, which was already a very tiny portion that she had dished out. Bruno felt tears pricking his eyes. Poor, sweet girl. Why did his mother have to seek out where you were the most vulnerable? He wished he could be there, to speak up, stand up for his sobrina.
…Then again, he never did much ‘standing up’ or ‘speaking up' for himself, or anyone else when he was there. Qué demonios, his mother still frightened him like not much else.
“Dolores,” Alma said sharply, startling both Dolores and Bruno at once. “Dejar de andar encorvada. Sit up. You’re a lady.”
Dolores nodded, biting her lip. Unsatisfied, Alma cast a look at her plate. “Finish your food. We do not waste, remember that.”
“Si, abuelita.” Dolores whispered. Camila lowered his fork, looking at her with an unidentifiable expression on his face. He glanced at Abuelita, now locked into a conversation with Isabela, and then at Pepa. Pepa was biting her lip so hard, you could almost see it breaking the skin. Felix’s face went stony, but he did reach out and cover Dolores’s hand with his own.
Bruno tried to settle into his seat. Okay. Now, pretend you’re there. Close your eyes…
I am sitting next to… Dolores, no, Mirabel and Dolores. Antonio is across from me, and Camilo is as well. I am making faces at Antonio to make him laugh. I am talking with my nieces.
“Where do you plan to go today?” Abuelita asked Luisa, in the kitchen, in the real world. Bruno locked himself into his fantasy, pretending the question was directed at him. As quietly as he could, he whispered his response.
“I am going with Mirabel, into the village.” He mouthed. If he had been looking, he would have seen Dolores’s head snap up, looking directly at the mural he hid behind.
Luisa answered instead, “I'll probably go to set up the new bridge. The widow, Mrs. Franca said she couldn’t get to Mama as quickly as she could have when she cut her hand.”
“Bueno. Such a responsible girl. Afterward, I would like you to go and check the foundation of the church. Dolores tells me she hears it cracking.”
“Of course.”
I am rustling Camilo’s hair. I am telling my nieces a very funny joke… because I can tell funny jokes. They are laughing and having a good time. Dolores is not thinking about what she is eating, or what she looks like. Mama isn’t even thinking of talking about her, because she is talking to me, instead. She is telling me she loves me, they are telling me they love me, and I say I love them. Julieta and I clear the table, she hugs me and tells me she couldn’t do it without me. I am-”
“By the way!” Antonio said brightly. “Last night, I was getting water for the cat I found in the yard, and I heard something scratching in the walls. I think we’ve got mice!” He said in excitement.
Dolores dropped her fork, flushed brightly as she bent to pick it up with a little “Eep!”.
Mirabel leaned over to rustle his hair. “Trust an animal lover like you to find an animal, even if they’re in the walls.”
“I don’t think rats are all you have to worry about in the walls,” Dolores muttered. Bruno’s blood went cold.
“Que? What did you say, Carina?” Pepa asked.
“No es nada mamá.” Dolores said into her juice glass.
“I hope they’re not rats, that’s all.” Julieta said. “I wouldn’t like rats getting into the food.”
Isabela wrinkled her nose. “Ugh,” She said. “They better stay out of my room.”
“We will lay down traps, si? Augustin, you will buy some.” Abuelita directed.
“Nooo!” Antonio cried out in dismay. “They won’t bother us! They’re little!”
“I’m sure the Casita would take care of any vermin,” Augustin said helpfully. “I didn’t hear anything, after all. Dolores, what about you?”
Bruno waited, tense on the edge of his seat. He peeked through the crack. For a second, Dolores looked directly at him, making eye contact through the crack, and he flinched away.
Finally, Dolores spoke. “No,” She said. “There’s nothing in the walls.”
“That’s good to hear. Alright, finish your food, everyone. It’s almost eight. Do you want to keep the villagers waiting all day?”
Bruno whispered a quiet “Gracias” Under his breath. Dolores responded with a very tiny nod.
As the familia spoke their morning mantra, Bruno whispered along. One by one, the Familia began to file out of the kitchen. Dolores waited. She waited a minute more until she knew no one was coming. Then, she picked up a clean plate out of the cupboard. Carefully, she portioned out a serving of breakfast onto the plate, then filled a cup with leftover coffee. She placed these onto a tray, then walked over to a cabinet that was seldom used, except to store towels and the like. It was small. A very thin, short person would probably have little trouble fitting inside. She opened the cabinet, and set the still-hot plate inside, then closed the door. She took a step back, then knocked. She waited a moment, and then nodded, and walked away. Bruno waved goodbye, though she couldn’t see.
Bruno stood away from the wall, stretching methodically, and stiffly. His neck cracked dully. “Que tenga un buen día, Dolores.” He said. He watched her raise her hand in farewell through the crack in the wall before she left.
Once he was absolutely certain the Casita was empty, Bruno walked towards a rectangular hole in the wall. It was covered by a loose board on hinges, like a door. Bruno counted to ten, then swung it up. He found himself looking directly into the kitchen cabinet, right at the hot meal Dolores had left him. He carefully pulled it out of the small space, setting it on the little table, before putting the board back into position. Once set back into place, anyone looking into the cupboard would never know anything was amiss.
Bruno ate the rest of his meal in silence, sharing what he could with the rats. Dolores had given him quite a lot, but he was hungry. Antonio, true to what he said, had been up in the kitchen late that night, and it had made it quite difficult to sneak food. No one was harder to fool than a five-year-old.
Bruno stood up, finally. “Knock knock knock, knock on wood.” He methodically thumped the little table, before reaching for his bucket. He had seen more of those strange cracks growing behind the wall. It would be for the best to work on them, lest they reach the outside, where the familia could see. Bruno shuddered at the idea of the familia having any reason to investigate the walls of the Casita.
Bruno opened his door. “Casita, do you think they’ll have a good day? I hope they do.” Casita rumbled in response. Bruno wandered through the tunnels, knocking on wood as he went. As he walked, he felt the walls brush against him, not in an oppressive way, but as if Casita was embracing him.
He really did hope their days were easy. He wished his familia could get some rest now and then, but even on Sundays they worked, helping out wherever they could, hosting dinners, visiting the elderly inhabitants of the village to make sure they were well cared for.
It was a pity he was so worthless. He wouldn’t have minded helping out so much, if only he had a decent gift.
Ah well.
Bruno-Ernando, as he took up the role, spread the spackle onto the newly-forming cracks. After this, maybe he’d go and ‘borrow’ a book from Casita's library. There were plenty of hiding places and secret tunnels, and the familia would have no reason to be in there. He could read for a little bit in peace. Then, he’d go and try to sneak some lunch, and after all of this, when the familia had returned, he would sit up for dinner with them, and then, the best part of the night, he’d start the next episode of his telenovelas. Dolores loved them, and it would be nice to take her mind off of everything. It would be nice for him to take his mind off of everything, as well.
Just another day to get through, in the end.