Chapter Text
Bruno breathed heavily, his head pounding. One more. Just one more.
He opened his eyes and raised his hands. Sand began swirling around him. A familiar green glow ebbed.
Just one more, and he would call it a day. One more vision for the stack he’d neatly piled in a far corner of his new vision room. Just one more, and he could rest. He had been working hard for weeks, taking visions for almost anyone who asked, trying to redeem himself in the eyes of the villagers who had lived in fear and contempt of him for a decade. He needed them to forgive him. He couldn’t let the legend of the malevolent Bruno Madrigal live on any longer. It still hung over him, despite the smiles he got in the streets, the handshakes offered to him by men he’d never met, the coffee and empanadas forced upon him by women close to his mother’s age. He could see it in their eyes, feel it in their looks; “that’s Bruno, the man who sees disasters”. For his own good more than anyone else’s, he had to rewrite his reputation.
And so ‘one more’ turned to three.
“Is he still going?” Mirabel asked Dolores, as they sat in Casita’s courtyard. Her cousin nodded.
“I can still hear the sand. He hasn’t stopped at all for over an hour.”
Mirabel bit her lip, and Félix, who, as well as Camilo, was also sitting with them, cleared his throat nervously.
“Maybe we should interrupt him. It’s almost time for lunch, he already missed breakfast,” he said.
“And dinner,” Camilo chimed in. Mirabel tapped her fingers tensely on her knee.
“I don’t know,” she said, conflicted, “he doesn’t like to be interrupted.”
Félix shrugged, looking defeated and a little concerned.
“All the same, perhaps soon.”
They all sat in silence, as they had been before, for another five minutes or so, before the tiles beneath their feet began twitching and tapping.
“Alright, Casita,” Mirabel said, rising from her seat.
“Time for lunch, I guess,” Camilo muttered, following her lead. However, as the four of them began walking towards the kitchen, the tiles in front of them fell quiet, and the ones behind them started clapping up and down rapidly. They all turned around. The staircase closest to them shook, each stair rising and falling before going still again.
“I think Casita wants us to go that way,” Mirabel guessed, and the stairs moved again, as though in agreement. Félix walked over to them.
“Well, I suppose we listen to the house.”
The rest of them followed him, and once they reached the next level, the tiles to their left began clapping again. They walked along the coridor, passing each of their doors; Luisa, Dolores, Antonio, Bruno…
The tiles stood completely vertical, as if asking them to stop, and they found that Casita had led them to Bruno’s door.
“Dolores, can you still hear him?” Félix asked.
“The sand, yes… but not Tío Bruno,” Dolores replied quietly.
“Can you usually hear him?” Mirabel asked her. She nodded.
“Oh, yes, all the time. You know, always muttering and mumbling…”
“Casita probably wanted us to fetch him for lunch,” Félix reasoned.
That made sense to Mirabel. Tío Bruno did need to eat, and Casita still couldn’t completely reach into his room to remind him, though it did seem it had more influence in his new room than his old one. Félix reached and opened the door, immediately releasing a rush of sandy wind. Mirabel spluttered, covering her eyes.
“Bruno, lunch!” she heard Félix yell. She didn’t hear any response, though she reasoned that the roaring of the sand could have drowned it out. She opened her eyes. The sand had mostly stopped leaking out of the room, but it was still fiercely spinning around inside, forming a wall that completely obscured anything else within.
“Tío Bruno, come have lunch!” she called, moving closer to the doorway. She still heard nothing, and looked at Dolores, who shook her head without even hearing her unspoken question. She looked to Camilo, who in turn shrugged and looked at Félix.
“Alright, I won’t be a moment,” he said, taking a step closer to the threshold of the door. Dolores and Mirabel simultaneously grabbed onto his arms.
“Papá, are you sure it’s safe?” Dolores asked. Félix turned his head, smiling his usual reassuring grin.
“What harm can a little sand do?”
He stepped into the room, and, as if on cue, the sand came to a sudden halt, falling to the ground. With the dizzying storm gone, the room was bright. Mirabel saw small particles of settling dust floating through the air, then turned her attention to the huge pile of sand that had formed on the floor. Bruno sat on top of it, bolt upright, his eyes glowing green. He was half-covered in the sand.
“Tío, are you okay?” Mirabel called timidly. Bruno didn’t respond.
“Bruno, lunch. Time for a break,” Félix said, concern in his voice, though Mirabel could tell he was trying to hide it. Still, Bruno did not respond. Mirabel looked to Dolores, who in turn looked at Camilo, who shrugged, then walked up to the pile of sand.
“Tío Bruno, hola, lunch time,” he called nonchalantly as he stumbled up the mound. He waved his hand in front of their uncle’s face, then appeared to grow more serious when Bruno still didn’t react. He grabbed onto his shoulders and began shaking him.
“Aye, Bruno, snap out of it.”
“Camilo, stop that,” said Félix.
Mirabel took a step forward, but halted when, just as Camilo let go of him, Bruno’s eyes faded back to their usual brown. The change was instantaneous. Bruno looked around frantically, then tried to speak.
“What’s going-” he began, but stopped as he erupted into a horrendous coughing fit. Camilo staggered back, raising his arms.
“Papá, what do I do?!”
Félix ran up to the sand pile and climbed it with surprising ease. Mirabel followed with less grace, struggling on her hands and knees until Camilo reached down and dragged her the rest of the way. Bruno was still coughing, his hands now over his mouth. Félix grabbed him under the arms and pulled him upwards.
“Aye, Bruno, are you okay, bro?” he asked. Bruno’s hands dropped away from his face, spilling a small amount of wet sand.
“Papá, I hear sand in his lungs,” Dolores yelled, still at the base of the mound. Félix’s face fell, still struggling to hold onto Bruno as he retched.
“Alright, let’s not panic. Come on, Bruno, get it all out now.”
Mirabel looked into her tío’s eyes, bulging with each rattling cough. They were panicked.
“Tío, I don’t think he can-”
Mirabel was cut off by Dolores.
“Papá, you need to help him, he can’t breathe!”
“Nobody panic, everything is fine…”
Bruno wheezed awfully.
“Does he look fine to you?!” Camilo exclaimed, waving wildly.
“Camilo, calm down. Dolores, go find-”
“Papá, hurry!”
Félix lowered Bruno down, then picked him back up from the front, throwing him over his shoulder like a toddler. He pounded on his back. Mirabel rushed to his other side to get a better look. Bruno’s coughing grew louder, and sand poured out of his mouth.
“Mirabel, is it working?” Félix asked, his voice still shockingly calm.
“Yes, Tío, I- I think so.”
Sand now fell out each time Bruno coughed, coming in large clumps. Each splutter was less raspy than the last.
“I’m- I’m okay now,” Bruno finally wheezed. Félix still hit him a few more times before stopping.
“Help me lift him down, Mirabelita, por favor.”
Mirabel awkwardly stooped and grabbed Bruno under the arms. They placed him carefully on top of the sand, laying down.
“No, stay right there,” Félix said firmly as Bruno tried to sit up, “don’t move. Camilo, Mirabel, make sure he stays down. I’m going to find Julieta.”
“Dolores’ already gone,” Camilo said, piping up for the first time in a while.
“I’m fine,” Bruno muttered.
“No, you’re not, hermano, now sit still. I’ll be right back.”
Félix slid down the pile and left the room, apparently not having heard Camilo. Mirabel shuffled to sit next to Bruno. His eyes were unfocused. She took his hand.
“Tío, do you feel alright?” she asked.
“Yes, Mirabel…” Bruno murmured.
“No way… Tío Bruno, you did all of these?” Camilo exclaimed. Mirabel hadn’t noticed him moving, but he now stood in the furthest corner of the room, next to a stack of green slates that could only be Bruno’s visions. Bruno sat up as if he’d seen a ghost.
“Camilo, be careful, don’t touch-”
He was cut off by a coughing fit. Mirabel hit him on the back until he stopped, expelling more sand, then forced him to lay back down.
“Don’t worry, Tío, Camilo won’t do anything stup-”
“Fifteen!”
Mirabel faltered.
“Fifteen? she repeated, looking down at Bruno, who had closed his eyes.
“It’s fine, nothing to worry about…”
“Bruno?! Brunito?!”
Mirabel recognised Tía Pepa’s voice. A moment later, she burst into the room, her cheeks flushed, a dark rain cloud hanging above her head. The room temperature instantly dropped by at least half. She was closely followed by Dolores, then Mirabel’s mother. Pepa clambered up to join them, dropping to her knees on Bruno’s other side. Mirabel felt water droplets falling on her cheeks.
“Mami, you’re getting us wet,” said Camilo. Pepa either ignored him or simply didn’t hear.
“Brunito, are you alright?” She looked at Mirabel, her eyes hysterical, “Is he alright?!”
Bruno coughed softly, and opened his eyes slightly.
“Sí, Pepa, everything is fine… I’m just tired.”
He coughed again. The rain fell harder. Mirabel watched her mother ascend the mound of sand. She placed a hand on Pepa’s shoulder.
“Mana, please, let me see him,” she said quietly. Pepa did not move. Mirabel let go of Bruno’s hand and stood, letting her mother take her place. She joined Camilo in the corner by the pile of visions.
“Mira, will he be alright?” he whispered, a very un-Camilo-like fear in his voice. Mirabel began nodding, but stopped.
“He should be,” she said.
“ Should be?”
“ Will be,” she corrected herself. She watched her mother, leaning down to listen to Bruno’s chest.
“There’s still sand.”
“I feel fine.”
“You’re not.”
Mirabel looked at Camilo, trying to seem reassuring. His expression told her that her attempt had failed. Raindrops still fell gently around them.
“Pepa, maybe you should go and find Félix,” her mother suggested.
“He’s already coming,” Dolores said, cupping her ear, “with Abuela.”
“Not Mamá,” Bruno groaned dramatically, covering his eyes. Despite the tense atmosphere, they all chuckled, swiftly cut off by the predicted entrance of Félix and Abuela.
“Brunito, are you alright?”
“Yes, Mamá, I’m fine. Just like I’ve been saying this entire time. Nothing to worry about.”
Unfortunately for Bruno, the rest of the family disagreed, and Mirabel, grabbing onto Camilo, followed as he was reluctantly carried off to a spare room to rest.