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Bruno sighed as he walked through the woods, silently contemplating the emerald green color of the thick foliage coating the trees as he tried to keep himself from minding the slightly damp soil getting in his sandals. He made a mental note of washing his feet when he came back home, of course at night so that no-one would notice him. It had been a few years since he had made the fateful prophecy involving his niece, and he still did not have the guts to come out of his hiding spot inside his house’s walls, not only afraid of other people’s judgment but also feeling way too guilty about the vision to allow himself the luxury of socializing with another human being again.
After all, who would even want to speak to him of all people? He was “Bad Luck Bruno”, “Bruno el brujo”, “The man who killed Osma’s pet fish”. Not a single soul in the world wanted anything to do with him.
So, as a last resort, he had decided to go visit a soul that wasn’t in the same world as him anymore.
The walk from Casita to where his padre was buried was quite long and exhausting, but he didn’t really care. All the mountains he had to climb didn’t seem too tall when he felt like he might have broken down at any second, and the only way to feel better was talking to someone, even if that someone wasn’t alive anymore.
He would have loved to talk with someone in the family, but unfortunately none of them were interested, between his mother who had basically disowned him, his sister who saw him as a bad luck bringer and his other sister who had virtually no power against their mother’s will. All of it essentially meant that excluding his brothers-in-law, sobrinas and sobrino -who were all very much conditioned by the matriarch’s way of thinking- the only person who was actually going to listen to him was his father, who had died the very day of his birth and had been buried near the river where he was killed.
When he finally reached his destination, the very first thing he did was sitting down on his knees, so that he could better read the name etched on the tombstone. Pedro Madrigal, it read.
-“Hola, papá…”- Bruno started.
-“Soy tu hijo, Bruno. Hope I’m not bothering you. Is it true that when people die, they fall in a deep sleep? If that’s true, then forgive me for waking you up…”- he chuckled briefly, before clearing his throat and continuing.
-“Anyway…I needed to talk. Now, I don’t know whether or not you have seen everything that has been going on, but I’ll try to make it short: when me and the girls where five we got a magical gift each from the magical candle in our magical house, I can see the future, and now everybody hates me because they say I bring bad luck and make bad stuff happen. But I-I can’t help it, I swear! I can’t actually shape the future, just see it!”-
He took a breath, and glanced once more at the name engraved in the smooth rock surface. What if his father hated him, too? What if he knew about Mirabel and the vision, and hated him just like the rest of his family?
No, it could not be. Because either he didn’t know at all what had been going on after his passing, or knew but changed his mind when Bruno had told him the truth about the limits to his powers.
Trying his best to keep it in mind, Bruno took a breath and spoke again.
-“Right now I don’t have anyone, you know. Mamá has disowned me, Pepa fears me like the plague and Julieta can only save some left-over food for me, but not much more, or else who knows what Mamá will say if she finds out. Oh, right, by the way now I live in our new house’s walls. Sounds weird, I know, but between the walls inside of the house and those on the outside there’s just enough space for a person to live in.”-
He stopped for about a second to recollect his thoughts and come up with something else.
-“Don’t worry, I still technically have someone to talk to, but you know, my rat friends can’t really give me advice on what to do, can they?”- he chuckled as a small brown mouse climbed out of the breast pocket on his shirt, much to his surprise.
-…Thinking about it, papá, you can’t really help me either.”-
-“But well, thank you for listening regardless. I feel like a weight as been taken off my chest. And thanks to you too!”- he said, muttering the latter thing to the little rodent, who gleefully squeaked as its owner gently rubbed its back.
Although, Bruno felt like he needed to say a last thing to his father. A very last confession, before he went back to Casita.
-“I wish you were alive, papá…”-
He almost didn’t notice how quiet he had been when he said that, or how much his eyes were stinging with tears. He slowly wiped them away from his eyes regardless, before putting the small rat back in his pocket and softly leaning over to kiss the top of his father’s tombstone, as to lightly kiss his forehead. His heart broke at the thought, as he wondered how it might have been like, with his padre still alive, and him kissing his wrinkly forehead when either needed comfort, like his mother used to do to him and his sisters.
Taking a breath he rose to his feet, and one last time looked at the grave before turning around, slowly marching back to the Encanto.