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Four years in the walls dragged on by. After the first year, it went much faster, Dolores providing all the interaction Bruno could want at least once every two weeks. She loved to gossip about the town, about su familia, and about his stories. Bruno was careful not to impose on her, never asking to chat when he felt himself go stir crazy. That's what Paula and Ratteo were for, and Dolores had a life to live outside the walls of Casita.
Her relationship with Isabela was temperamental, the older of the two icing out Dolores for reasons she couldn't figure out, even trying with all her might to overhear anything Isabela said to anyone. Camilo took on the role of town jester and overall jack of trades. He delighted in making kids younger than him laugh, and being told “good job!” by the adults around him, always able to hang things levelly or trick a baby into sleeping. He never tired of irritating Dolores. Luisa was always taking on more than her fair share of chores, helping Dolores with any of the tasks she had around the house, even when she didn't want or need the help, and secretly Dolores thought Luisa was looking for company. Mirabel had taken up textiles, and had embroidered her own skirt and those of her relatives until they all were well adorned with the skillful, elegant work. It was far beyond what a normal ten year old would be capable of, but, Dolores confided in Bruno, Mirabel was determined to be good at something the way everyone’s Gift was for them, creating works of art after the accordion didn't pan out.
Bruno looked forward to the updates on his family more than anything else. It was why he had stayed so close, yet so impossibly far away, after all. He didn't want to miss anything, even if it was as a voyeur.
Mirabel’s sixth birthday, the first after the failed Gift ceremony, was a disaster. Each member was grappling with the fact it was simultaneously the last time they saw him, and soon Mamá had forbidden mentioning him, annoyed with how Pepa's mood would sour and the air of grief it brought to the room. He didn't think she was that disappointed in him as a son, but over dinner she made the announcement and he felt his stomach grow cold, appetite evaporating into nothing, the few bites he already took felt like lead. It was fine, he reasoned. If they didn't talk about him, Dolores wouldn't feel the urge to share their secret, and he wouldn't have to hear about how he ruined Pepa’s wedding for the tenth time.
He peeked through the wall, mostly somber expressions in his view. He consoled himself that at least they were a little regretful about never mentioning him again.
Each birthday after that was easier. When he wasn't mentioned, and barely thought about, Mirabel got the attention she deserved, and was happy, despite the mess her fifth had created. Each party was a reminder of why he had to stay hidden away, so she could keep having them.
Not two weeks after Mirabel turned nine, Dolores shoved a note through the wall, her graceful cursive writing out, We need to talk tonight! Kitchen. and a signature. Bruno didn't notice until after he woke up from his siesta, and he muttered an assurance that he would be there, knowing that wherever his niece was, she would hear it.
Dolores always kept an ear out during their chats, careful to keep his existence hidden. Camilo was the most common interruption, Bruno darting outside more than once to hide from his always hungry sobrino. Luisa would sometimes sneak down for a drink of water or hot chocolate, but it was rare. Her gift of hearing everything was the only reason Bruno felt comfortable doing more than sneaking around for a few moments at a time.
Nightfall came and when he heard the last of the doors close, he waited a few minutes for good measure, then stepped out of the painting. It was easier to push it closed with his fingers crossed than pulling it behind him, and Bruno was happy Casita had made the painting naturally want to close. He crept to the kitchen, avoiding the boards that creaked no matter what Casita did, grabbing a piece of fruit for lunch along with the food Julieta had made that day.
He waited only for a few minutes before Dolores appeared, whistling so he wouldn't startle at her appearance. He looked at his fifteen year old sobrinita, shocked by how tall she was. He felt slighted by his own diminutive stature, but knew that was what happened when there were multiples, and if Dolores was growing taller than him, it meant she was healthy and strong.
She was practically vibrating, skipping towards the counter before silently jumping on it, feet kicking into the air.
“I have good news!” she whispered excitedly. “Guess what it is!”
He tried to think back to the last information dump Dolores had given him. Most of it had been resolved, but a few of the things she overheard had been ongoing. Something about the Rodriguezes cat going missing as well as Enrique’s anniversary gift for his wife.
“Did Enrique find something for su esposa?” Bruno was rooting for him to find the perfect thing. At the very least, Isabela could make him a beautiful bouquet if his other ideas failed.
Dolores shook her head, “No, no, it's about nuestra familia!”
Bruno furrowed his brow, thinking. There wasn't unresolved family drama that Dolores was telling him about. “Did Agustín finally stop finding the only beehive in el encanto?”
“No, tío is never going to stop doing that. You think you're bad luck, when the man can barely go outside without being stung! Guess again.” She grinned at him, free and joyful in a way that she so rarely was.
“Has Luisa finally started wearing flowers in her hair again?” Dolores mentioned that once, months ago, but otherwise Bruno was drawing a blank for good news.
“Well. Yes! Isa and I worked on that and finally convinced her it would be fun. But that's not it.” She wiggled a few more moments in anticipation, “¡Mamá está embarazada! She and Papá were talking and she's going to announce it later this week but I’m gonna be una hermana mayor again!”
Dolores clasped her hands together in excitement, smiling at him. Bruno looked at her, shocked. Part of him wanted to yell, the part of him that despite five years of near silence was so exuberant at that vision coming true, he knew each sister would have at least three niños for him to love, for it to finally be happening. A smile crept over his face, hands coming together in an almost inaudible clap. He ignored the part of him that wasn't overjoyed, he could deal with that later, when he was alone.
“That's great! Does she know if it's a boy or girl?” Bruno asked, unsure of when that information was discovered. His sister was having another kid! A new sobrino for him to love!
“Papá says it’ll be a boy again, so Camilo won't be alone and Mamá isn't saying anything, so I don't think they know for sure. I miss having a little bebé around Casita, even if they are loud. They're so cute!” Dolores squealed, hands wringing besides her.
“I can't wait to see them at dinner.” Bruno said, trying to match Dolores’ enthusiasm and coming up short. “Está embarazada, wow! She's so old!” He had thought the vision was wrong, considering they were now 44 and the last child hadn't been born yet.
His niece giggled, “Sí, sí, that's what Mamá said too, that she was demasiado vieja, but she was happy! A new baby! I can't tell anyone because Mamá would kill me, but I'm nearing bursting with this secret, tío, they need to make the announcement soon!”
She hopped off the counter, bare feet making little noise against the tile. Dolores held out her hands, picking up Bruno’s where they lay in his lap and pulling him upright. She twirled around the room, spinning Bruno. His ruana flapped around, significantly less graceful than her skirt, but he didn't misstep, so familiar with being moved by exuberant siblings as for it to be second nature.
Dolores squealed again, stopped spinning, and threw her arms around Bruno. He startled, hesitantly patting her back. She withdrew, clasping their hands together once more. “I can't wait to introduce them to you, tío.”
Bruno looked at her strangely, squeezing then withdrawing his hands to run them over his ruana. He would see the baby at dinner like he saw everyone else. What was Dolores talking about? “Huh?”
She rolled her eyes, “Mamá and Papá always ask me to babysit through the night and whenever that happens I’ll introduce you, of course. A little bebé can keep a secret, and you can help me if something goes wrong.”
“Oh. Um. Thank you, Thank you, Dolores, cariño. This is the best thing I’ve heard in years.” Bruno usually shirked babysitting until the kids could at least walk, but was more than happy to make an exception for this one. He looked at the clock on the counter, jumping in surprise, “Ay, mija it's late, we should go to bed.”
She glanced at the clock, “Oh! I didn't realize what time it was. Buenas noches, Tío Bruno!”
Dolores disappeared, Bruno’s mumbled “Buenas noches.” following her as her door shut.
He followed her lead, climbing back through the painting, fingers crossed, and making his way towards his new room, one devoid of sand and unwanted visitors demanding things he didn't want to give.
——
Dolores was smiling softly at the baby in her arms, Toñito’s wide, sleepy eyes looking adoringly at his sister. She had woken up to the sound of his cries, and went about feeding him with the bottle her mama had put in the fridge. She knocked on the wall, whispering, “Come out, tío, someone wants to meet you!”
Bruno knew she could hear the few crashes he made knocking over his meager belongings in his rush to get out of the walls. He used to try and keep his entrance hidden, but Dolores could hear the hinges and asked him if the hole had always been there, or if Casita had made it just for him. Ever since Pepa had started showing, he was bouncing with eagerness, and he was crawling out of his skin at the child's chair that appeared at dinner. Antonio was rarely in his line of sight, as narrow as it was, and Bruno contented himself with just glimpses of his new sobrino.
He practically ran to the kitchen, nearly bumping into Dolores in his haste. He quickly stepped backwards, before approaching again at a much more reasonable pace. Dolores held out her hermanito, and Bruno looked at her for a moment and shook his head.
“I– I don't think I should hold him? Since I might have to, you know, make a quick getaway.” Bruno mimed running with his fingers. “Plus, ha, it's not good luck for un adivino to hold the new baby.”
He reached into his pockets, throwing salt and sugar over his shoulder. Bad luck chased away for the moment he crept closer, one finger reaching out to touch Toñito, tracing his naricita gently.
“Tío Bruno, you don't believe that, do you?” She asked softly.
Bruno dragged his eyes from Antonio and looked at Dolores for a few seconds, confused for a moment. “Huh? I didn't hold you all until you were at least six months old. It's muy mala suerte, Lola. And I definitely didn't babysit until you could walk and talk.”
“Who told you that?” She demanded. Bruno remembered Dolores marching up to her schoolmates, barely seven, demanding they stop insulting Luisa for crying, and if they didn't she would make them stop.
No one had to tell him. It was something he just knew, like how he knew that he would have seis sobrinitos, or how he knew that knocking on wood would push away the bad luck. “Oh, no one. El encanto, I guess. I just know.”
He stopped for a moment, turning his attention back to tracing Toñito’s little eyebrows and ears, causing the baby to giggle. He didn't mean to hurt her feelings or upset her, and he wanted to scold himself for doing so. Later, when he wasn't on a time crunch to appreciate his new family member. Bruno pursed his lips, quickly transforming it into a smile for the bebé, getting one in response.
“Can you do me a favor?” Bruno felt stupid for asking, but he didn't want Antonio to have the same fear other kids did. Dolores nodded, and Bruno continued, voice light, “Do you think you could stop Camilo from trying out his version of me on Antonio? I don't want him to be scared of me. Camilo can keep doing it, I don't care, but not in front of him.” He really didn't care, Camilo knew he wasn't that horrific, had even preferred him to Julieta at the end, before everything happened, and it was just an act. Maybe an act fueled by Pepa’s grudge and vicious village rumors, but an act nonetheless. Bruno understood that, with Hernando and Jorge. Sometimes he wanted to change shapes, and if he really did look as scary as Camilo made him out to be, people would be more hesitant to bother him for a reading.
This kid wouldn't ever properly meet his tío, and there were enough stories that he could paint a picture of his uncle. He didn't need a frankly terrifying form to seal the deal that his tío was a monster. His door was already creepy enough, void of light with an intense depiction of him. All other images of him as an adult in the house were hidden away or he wasn't included. If he ever was to come back, the last thing he wanted was to scare him.
Dolores said nothing, and Bruno looked up to see tears in her eyes. He wiped them away. “Mija, why are you crying? No tears here, this is a joyous occasion! You don't have to even think about what I asked, it was silly, niña, don't cry.”
His words only appeared to make things worse and his drew his hands close to himself, wringing them before hitting the table in his usual staccato. He started to apologize, regretting having said anything, he wouldn't ever really meet Toñito, what did it matter if he was el diablo personified?
Dolores cut him off, “Hold him. You're going to hide before he can really remember so hold him now.” She shoved the bundle towards him again, more insistent this time, and Bruno did as she ordered, carefully holding his nephew. He readjusted, one hand knocking quickly, Bruno mumbling his ward against bad luck over his sobrino.
He leaned down, his nose almost touching the baby in his arms. Bruno kissed his forehead and cheeks, rewarded with the sound of happy gurgling. “Tan pequeño, Toñito, tan pequeño. Gracias a Dios tienes la nariz de su padre.”
They sat mostly in silence, the only sound the occasional babbling of Bruno, trying to make his nephew happy, covering his face with his hood, changing his voice to Hernando’s. Dolores was quiet, appreciating how everyone was sleeping, except the only adult in her life who knew how to whisper and a baby that was so much quieter than Camilo had been.
Casita rustled around them, knocking a clock on the counter top. Bruno looked at the time and his heart sank, wishing he could spend all day staring at his new family member. That was not possible. Pepa would notice if su niño disappeared, and she would not be happy, if his own disappearance was anything to go off of.
He handed the sleepy child back to Dolores, who accepted the bundle tiredly. She needed to sleep, and Bruno felt only a little guilty keeping her up so late. She was always more than willing to tell him when she was tired, so it couldn't be that bad. He stood taller than her for once as she stayed seated at the table. Taking advantage of the moment, he darted and kissed her forehead, needing her to know he loved them with all his heart. “Te quiero mucho, Lola. Les quiero mucho.”
“Yo sé, tío Bruno. Le quiero también. Le queremos.” She reassured him. “You'd better do this again, you hear? Mamá wants me to watch him again next Thursday night, and I want the help.”
Bruno nodded at the order, saluting his bossy niece. “Of course. I'm at your service! Buenas noches, Dolores.” It didn't matter if he knew nothing about young childcare. He would figure it out, if only to relieve Dolores of babysitting duty.
“Buenas noches, tío.” Dolores stood with her hermanito, following in her uncle’s footsteps as she put Antonio back in his crib. Mamá would be furious in the morning with his sleep schedule all ruined, but it was worth it to see the unbridled joy on Tío Bruno’s face. “Buenas noches, hermanito."
She kissed his forehead, turning off the lights.