*P*A*R*T**F*I*V*E*
The house was alive with excitement for Antonio's gifting ceremony; however, Bruno could almost physically feel the tension that hid behind the terse laughter and careful preparations. This ceremony would either prove that Mirabel's lack of gift had been a fluke…or that the magic was fading and that no more children would be gifted with miraculous powers.
Bruno felt uneasy himself. He knocked on every piece of wood he came across until his knuckles were raw and sore, and he had run out of salt and had resorted to his limited supply of sugar. He didn't know why he hadn't stocked up on salt before today. Of course he'd be nervous…the last time he'd been to a gifting ceremony, it had not ended well.
But what made everything worse was Mirabel. He could hear her upbeat voice through the walls, doing everything she could to help. Despite her positivity, Bruno recognized the desperateness in her tone. The twinge of sorrow had edged his own voice once upon a time, when he had tried to help his family do anything. Because of his undeserved reputation, he had been asked to step back and to let others bear the weight. It had made him feel useless and unnecessary. As hard as these past 10 years in the walls had been, at least he finally felt that he was doing something, protecting someone.
He understood Mirabel's heart as she tried to rise to the unreachable standard his mother had set long ago, before Mirabel was even a thought.
And yet, he knew and understood something Mirabel did not. As much as she admired and longed to be like her gifted family members, not even their gifts were enough to measure up to the perfection Alma had established. They had a reputation to uphold in their community, and anything less than was an ugly mark in her mind. Bruno had been that mark for many years, and now Mirabel seemed to have inherited it in his absence – no matter how hard Julieta and Augustin tried to protect her from Alma's scrutiny.
Bruno wondered how much worse it would be if his mother had seen his vision.
*E*N*C*A*N*T*O*
"Bruno, you are not being fair to the girls," Alma said, "They were so excited!"
Bruno smiled irritably. "Mama, I am not the one who promised them a vision. That was you."
"You have always struggled using your gift," she said angrily. "Instead of using it to help our family and our community, you search for ways to create dissension."
Bruno's mouth gaped. "Dissension?" Heated fury climbed up his neck and spread like wildfire across his cheeks. The warmth burned cold. The word anger could not begin to describe the emotion that consumed him now. He bit back the venomous words that threatened to burst out. "I don't think you understand how hard I've tried all my life to be exactly what this family needs, but I always fall short. I will never live up to your expectations."
He was seething, but the placid disappointment on his mother's face made him realize that he either hid it well, or she refused to be affected by it. "Bruno," she responded evenly, as though calming a temperamental child. "You know that is not true. I want what is best for you, our family, and our community. So yes, I will push my children to use their gifts to the best of their abilities. You understand that."
Bruno weighed carefully the words he spoke next. His body trembled with barely restrained frustration. With the exception of Julieta, his family had made little effort to understand his "gift". He was not a fortune teller or a soothsayer in the typical sense. His power was much more complicated, and almost impossible to control. It was as if he opened a window and looked into a raging storm…and tried to understand which cloud had started it. He was not wiser or smarter or more discerning because of his power. He was only himself. And he felt weak and unequipped for the burden this miracle had decided to bestow on him.
"I do understand," Bruno said finally, "and I have practiced my gift for many years. And there have been many visions I have decided where not wise to let anyone else see. I will not show Isabela or Dolores their futures. I regret having seen them at all."
Bruno walked away, leaving his mother too shocked or too angry to try and stop him.
He went to his room and sat on his bed. He thought that eventually Alma would realize the implication of his words, that he was telling her no for what might be the first time in his life. Bruno waited for what felt like hours; however, the knock that came at his door was familiar, and did not have the demanding urgency of the matriarch.
"Julieta," he said, opening the door. He felt relief seeing her gentle and questioning expression. She was not here to demand anything. Bruno invited her inside.
Julieta took his hand. "Mama told me everything," was the first thing she said.
Bruno frowned, an unfamiliar twinge of betrayal tainting his warm feelings toward his most understanding sister. The way she said it seemed to preface the reason she had come. Maybe she was here to demand something after all…
"Then she must've also told you that I will not be giving the girls the visions," Bruno said, more icily than he'd intended.
Unlike Alma, Julieta reacted to his tone. Her face fell and she nodded. "She did. I don't disagree with you, Bruno. I just came to see if you were okay."
"Why wouldn't I be?" Bruno asked irritably. He felt annoyed by her words, even though he knew she did not mean to offend him at all. She always offered a listening ear if there was ever an issue amongst the family. She was a healer through and through.
"Obviously you're upset," Julieta observed. "But I did not come in here to argue with you. If you don't want to talk about it, I won't press you." She turned to leave the room.
"Wait," Bruno said. "I'm sorry. You're right. I am upset."
Julieta only turned partially. She didn't intend to stay, even with his apology. "Standing up to our mother isn't easy, but it is necessary sometimes. But she really does care…about all of us. She just crosses the line sometimes."
Bruno watched his sister leave the room, disheartened by his own behavior. He didn't know why he had automatically assumed that his sister would be coming in to defend their mother's actions. It was something Pepa might do, but not Julieta. And even if she had hoped to know about Isabela's future…wouldn't he want to know if it was his daughter and it was someone else who had had a vision?
Isabela's future was not even bad. It was actually a wonderful vision. She would have the power to grow any plant her heart desired. She would grow more powerful overtime, and she would be influential and gracious. He would have loved to give that vision to her…that the life she most desired would be hers.
It was Dolores' future that made him decide otherwise. The vision he had had for Dolores had stopped short, refusing to go past a moment of heartbreak she would experience. The man she loved would ask for someone else's hand. Whether or not this man actually married this other woman was never revealed and Bruno was not about to give that vision to his niece.
Although it wasn't every his idea to give the girls visions of their future, he was disappointed that he could not use his power for something good for once. He always felt that he was the bearer of omens that brought fear and anxiety. He had hoped that this time would be different. But in the end, it was the same as it always was.
*E*N*C*A*N*T*O*
Bruno was almost tempted to leave the walls to see Antonio's ceremony. Almost.
He settled for listening from behind the large picture that also acted as a door into his passageways…his home for the past decade. He had long since stopped imagining what it would be like to be part of the family again, to sit at the table for meals, to walk in the open sunshine, to be cared about and loved. Somehow, in spite of all of this, he still knew and loved his family. He had seen his nieces and nephews grow up, his siblings grow older…he knew about the inside jokes, and the local gossip that found its way to the dinner table. He still adored his family, loved them relentlessly, even if they would never know he was there.
Bruno heard the ceremony begin, his mother recite the familiar summary of the Encanto's history, and then a still silence as the attention turned to five-year-old Antonio. To Bruno's surprise, a stifled gasp broke out. He dared to peek out from behind the painting just enough to see the aisle. It took several moments before he knew what the commotion had been about. Mirabel was walking up, hand in hand, with Antonio. She looked tentative, but there was a stiffness in her gait that expressed her unwillingness to be persuaded to leave Antonio's side. Bruno knew it had not been her idea. Antonio clung to her like she was his only confidence.
Bruno crept back into the shadow of the walls, pulling the door shut completely. Now that Antonio and Mirabel were alighting the stairs, numerous eyes would be almost directly on him. He could not risk being seen, not even to see if this ceremony would work.
The murmured words of Alma asking Antonio if he would use his gift for the good of his family and the Encanto signaled that the time was almost at hand. Bruno crossed his fingers, closed his eyes, and held his breath. His rats squeaked restlessly at his feet, clawing at his pant legs for treats. Bruno ignored them, trying to hear anything that would signal good or bad. A gasp from the crowd meant nothing until he heard celebratory shouts and claps. He released his breath with a sigh and a smile. It had worked. The magic had worked.