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“I’m dying! Casita, please, help me!”
Mirabel’s desperate plea was not left unanswered. The floor tiles clicked and danced around her, creating a huge wave. To the accompaniment of banging and smashing, the girl was transported from the courtyard straight to the living room. The door opened and closed, Casita stopped moving, and Mirabel collapsed face-first on the couch.
“Graffiaf,” she muttered against the fabric, too tired to turn on her back.
Only when it became hard to breath did she push herself up. With great effort, Mirabel leaned against the cushions, her head tilted back, her legs stretched. She was positively exhausted, unable to move a muscle. It felt like she was galloped over by a drove of donkeys.
And it wasn’t even noon.
Once her body relaxed, and her arms became limp against the soft upholstery, she allowed her thoughts to drift away. With a deep breath, the girl slowly shut her eyes, just for a tiny moment. There was no harm in taking a short break, no one would even notice…
A click of the door made her jump. Her eyes shot open as she looked around in alarm. She was disoriented from waking up in a room that was not hers. It took the girl a moment to locate the newcomer, and then another to register his face. She relaxed almost at once.
“Hey, it’s you, Tio,” said Mirabel, her heart hammering in her chest. Bruno gave her a confused look.
“Yeah, it’s just me,” he smiled apologetically. Must have thought that she expected someone else. Mirabel shook her head.
“No, I mean, you’re early.” She sat up straight, readjusted her glasses. A sideway glance at the clock told her that she was out for less than a quarter. “Why are you back already?”
“Well – um, I’m not used to doing much chores, really,” he admitted with a shrug.
“Oh, right! Your first day,” said Mirabel, as if she’d just remembered. “How was it? How did it go?”
Bruno’s eyebrows went up, and he made a half-step back. There was a mix of surprise and fear on his face; a common initial reaction to his gift being brought up into a conversation. The man strongly disliked talking about his work, quick to refuse when asked to. And yet, despite all odds, something in Mirabel soon made him want to open up. She asked with such a genuine concern and interest that Bruno was instantly reminded of why he loved this girl so much.
His features softened. He went to join his niece on the couch, sitting so close that their shoulders touched. Humming under his breath, he sought for the words that would best describe his latest experience.
“Actually, it went relatively well. Better than I feared, that’s for sure.”
Mirabel giggled, visibly amused by his vagueness. “You’ll have to tell me more.”
“Oh, okay. Where to begin…” Her Tio looked at his joined fingertips. It helped him collect his thoughts. “I woke up in my room, brushed my teeth, and went down to eat breakfast with everyone –”
“I know,” she interrupted with an eyeroll. “I was there.”
Bruno blinked, confused. “In my room?”
“No!” Mirabel chuckled, slapping him playfully on the forearm. “At breakfast. Can we move to after you left the house?”
“Uh, right.” The man became pensive once more. “So, I walked to the town square with your mom. She went to set up her food stand, there being a line of people waiting – a huge line. I stood to the side, not to interrupt, but it turned out that there was this group, and they wanted me.”
When he took a breather, still amazed that someone would ask for him directly, Mirabel put her hand in his in a reassuring way, encouraging him to speak. He brushed his thumb over her fingers, letting her know that he was not backing off.
“The first vision, I – Well, I screwed it up,” he admitted matter-of-factly. “There was this teenage boy that came with his mother, and I saw his friend breaking up with him. It was nasty, mind you. They didn’t like it.”
“I’m sorry…”
“The first time is always like, ugh.” said Bruno in a more cheerful voice – not so much because of what he’d said but to make his niece feel better. “But then, I remembered your words.”
He put his arm under Mirabel’s elbow, his hand resting on her forearm, as he often did, even when they were not alone. She expected this; would be disappointed if he didn’t. From the very start of their relationship, touching came naturally to them and was not at all awkward. They both enjoyed it, even if it was Bruno who craved it more, having been long deprived of any form of human affection.
More softly, he continued.
“When this young pair asked me about their future, I didn’t tell them at once. I took my time, asked people to give me more space, just like you suggested. I took the vision plate in my hands, gave it another look, and – well – applied a filter, as you put it. I said only the good things that came to my mind. I made them focus on the positive instead of the negative, even though the not desirable effects were more obvious.”
“Did it help?” asked Mirabel, leaning against Bruno, her head resting on his shoulder.
“It did,” he said with such disbelief and amazement that it made her heart ache. “People weren’t hostile, they didn’t shout. I think they appreciated more of what I had to say. Some even thanked me!”
“As they always should,” his niece reassured him, anger on his behalf creeping into her tone.
“There was also that woman who gave me a pat on the shoulder. She said I look good in green, and that my eyes are in her favorite shade. What a coincidence, right?”
Mirabel shifted to look her Tio straight in the eye. She was smirking. Her elbow nudged him lightly in the ribs.
“She was flirting with you!”
Bruno stared back at her like she’d said something silly.
“Nah, she couldn’t have. Why would she?”
“Why not? You’re a handsome guy.”
With a nervous laugh, the man fidgeted in his seat. This was uncomfortable, being called someone he knew he was not. To relieve the tension, he raised an eyebrow, gave a sly smile, and jokingly flipped back his hair. All in attempt to recreate a seductive face he once saw Camilo make to tease Dolores about her boyfriend.
Mirabel burst out laughing. It was contagious. He joined in soon after.
“And what about the visions that were strictly bad?” she asked on a more serious note. “Did you have any?”
Like with the flip of a switch, Bruno’s face turned solemn. His muscles tensed, and he avoided his niece’s gaze.
“This one vision, yes, it was pretty horrifying.”
The girl felt instinctively that the mood had shifted. She could tell that her Tio was forcing himself to answer her question.
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” she said, putting her hand on top of his, letting him know that remaining silent was indeed a valid option.
“Good, because I’d rather not,” he replied, giving her arm a light squeeze.
For a moment, they were simply sitting there, holding each other, taking comfort from each other’s presence. It felt good, being able to share this time together.
Finally, it was Bruno who broke the silence.
“Enough about me. How was your day?”
But Mirabel refused to change the subject just yet. In a low, affectionate voice, she stated,
“I’m so proud of you, you know?”
In response, he shifted his head, so that their temples touched. She could feel his breath against her skin when he repeated his question, indicating that they were definitely done talking about him.
“Buuusy,” answered the girl, stifling a yawn. “Remember these skirts I showed you the other day?”
“Uh-huh. They were very nice. I liked them a lot.”
The corners of her lips went up. She appreciated the praise.
“Mrs. Gonzales – the woman who ordered the skirts – liked them, too. She placed another order, for a pair this time, and so did her neighbor.”
Bruno whistled, impressed but not shocked. “Wow, that’s great! Good job.”
“Yeah, but now I have sooo many orders, I’ll have to pull another all-nighter. And I still haven’t recovered after last night.”
As she said it, Mirabel put her legs on the couch, shifting to cuddle up to him. He felt soft and warm, and she was so tired, having worked long hours to finish her assignments in time. She could sleep then and there – if only the girl didn’t have another day’s worth of tasks already waiting for her.
Bruno’s brows furrowed in worry, almost meeting in the middle. “Wait. You mean, you spent the entire night sewing skirts?”
“Nah, of course not. I had three more orders to finish.”
He sighed in resignation. They’d already had this conversation, but apparently thrice is at least once too little.
“Ay, Mirabel. Don’t overwork yourself next time. Please?”
His niece rolled her eyes and made a frustrated noise. She knew there was some truth in what the man said, yet there was also so much that he couldn’t understand.
“But it feels so great when someone finally appreciates my work,” she said in a whiny, overdramatic voice. “Besides, I love what I’m doing, so it’s not really work, am I right?”
“Uh-huh. I see where you’re coming from, and there’s a lot of truth in there. Just remember: it’s okay to take a break. You told me not to force myself out there before I’m ready. Listen to your own advice?”
Muttering under her breath, Mirabel refused to meet his gaze. She fiddled with some loose threads in his ruana in an attempt to distract herself, hesitant to admit that Tio Bruno might be onto something. He got back her attention by playfully touching the tip of her nose with his index finger. This earned him an amused smile and a wrinkled nose.
“Okay! Okay, I’ll try,” she said in conciliation, making a mental note to be more careful with giving advices. Otherwise, more might go back to bite her in the rear. “Starting tomorrow. Today I promised Mama to prepare ingredients for lunch.”
However, Bruno observed that, despite being convincing when voicing her final decision, the girl made no effort to get up and go back to work. Instead, she rubbed her prickly eyes and rested heavier against his shoulder. He couldn’t help the affectionate smile that crept onto his lips.
“You’re tired. Get some sleep,” he whispered into her hair as he kissed her forehead. “I can help with the lunch, don’t you worry. Stay here. I’ll do the rest.”
His offer sounded so very tempting, and yet Mirabel found the strength to put up one last line of resistance.
“You sure it’s okay?” Her question was undermined by a loud yawn.
Bruno smirked. “You really want me to rethink that?”
She mumbled something inaudible in response, already drifting off. The sounds around her were muted, her vision blurred despite her wearing glasses. Bruno lifted himself off the couch, making an effort not to disturb her, and placed her gently on the seating. His shoulder was quickly replaced with a pillow.
When he asked if she wanted something from the kitchen, it was already too late.
“Mirabel?” the man whispered. There was no response. The girl was fast asleep.
He put a blanket over her, so that his niece wouldn’t get cold, and left her alone to get some well-deserved rest.