You're the Real Gift
The last forty-eight hours was an emotional rollercoaster for the Madrigals. First, there was Isabela's disastrous engagement dinner. Mirabel disappeared for the rest of that night, only to be seen splashing multicolored pollen onto Isabela's dress and hair the following day. A misunderstanding led to a fight between Mirabel and Mamá. It felt like that last night with Bruno all over again.
"Bruno loves this family! I love this family! We all love this family! You're the one that doesn't care!"
Bruno in present tense?
Julieta wasn't able to contemplate on the thought because the house crumbled like a sandcastle only moments later. Mirabel disappeared again that night, and Mamá found her in the morning.
This girl would be the death of me.
But when Julieta and Pepa saw Bruno behind Mamá and Mirabel, Julieta thought she was dreaming. She had dreamed of her brother frequently in the last ten years. Waking up was always a painful process. The family was convinced that he was dead, and they avoided mentioning his name because it summoned the pain. It had been agonizing to overhear Mirabel asking Dolores and Camilo about their Tío Bruno in the afternoon before the engagement dinner. What a cosmic joke it was that her youngest daughter no longer remembered her uncle that loved her so much.
This has to be a dream.
Julieta felt like she was watching her younger self smiling at Bruno. He was thinner, paler, and his hair was grayer. Even his facial hair was flecked with gray. But it was him. Julieta and Pepa embraced him. Everything was right in the world again, even with their house in rubble around them.
Everyone in the family was asleep in the shade of nearby trees by the afternoon on the first day, after having spent the whole night just looking for Mirabel. Julieta was one of the first to wake up near sundown. Moments later, Pepa woke up, too. They found Bruno awake and stroking Mirabel's hair. He still looked at her little girl the way he'd looked at her all those years ago.
The triplets sat in one of the ornate benches that were recovered from the rubble. His words riddled with apologies, Bruno explained everything—why he left, where he went, and that Dolores and later Mirabel discovered him but didn't reveal him. Julieta and Pepa couldn't stop their anger. Soon, they were all on their feet again, and their voices were rising. This talk—fight—didn't take long to finish. Despite the anger, it was a conversation that they all needed.
"Mirabel doesn't remember you anymore," said Julieta, wiping her tears.
"Neither does Camilo," added Pepa.
"I know," Bruno whispered. "But I'm here now, and I'll make it up to them, okay? You raised such wonderful kids. And Mirabel—I thought I was saving her, but really, she saved me."
They returned to the rest of their family, who were waking up. Mirabel was sitting up on the grass, looking worriedly at her mother. Julieta approached Mirabel and held her hand. "Did you hear us arguing? It's alright now, Mira. It's just a long-overdue talk."
Bruno did make up for lost time with the children. He comforted Antonio, who was mourning the loss of his new gift, by introducing him to the rats. Mirabel and Camilo stayed close. Mirabel had already been acquainted with Bruno before her fight with her Abuela, and so she was eager to know him better. Camilo initially kept near for Antonio's sake. Antonio was too young to be wary of strangers; and there were no strangers in the Encanto anyway, except their uncle back from the dead. But the boy was drawn to the Bruno's animated style of storytelling; by bedtime, Camilo was discussing telenovelas with Bruno.
Julieta noticed, though, that her two oldest daughters kept distance.
"He's a lot less scary than I remember, Mamá," said Luisa.
"When did he ever scare you?" Julieta asked.
"I do remember him entertaining us like that, but somehow, it's the other times that stick out in my memory. I remember him laying around the house just staring, staring at nothing. It was spooky."
Julieta had forgotten about those spells. She hadn't realized that the children thought much of it.
Isabela explained, "His gift made him sick sometimes. He suffered migraines and became moody."
Nearby, Pepa was scolding Dolores. Out of habit, Pepa was not shouting, but she was whispering and hissing and was exasperated with her daughter. "The whole time that the rest of us thought that your Tío Bruno was dead, you heard him in the house with us? Why didn't you say so?"
"He asked me to keep it a secret, Mamí. And besides, any time I start a sentence with his name, you go, 'We don't talk about Bruno!'" Dolores said defiantly.
Pepa covered her face with her hands, realizing that she herself was partially at fault for the problem.
The first week was a monumental process of repairing both the house and their bonds with one another. Julieta felt her heart nearly bursting with joy as she watched Agustín and Félix telling Bruno how glad they were that he was back and how scared they had been when they'd thought that Bruno had killed himself. Isabela overheard and flinched at the memory. Meanwhile, Abuela was comforting Luisa, who was tearfully confessing her own struggles with her gift and how she had grappled with the fear that her worth was directly tied to her usefulness. One day, Isabela, Dolores, and Luisa were getting reacquainted with Bruno. The three girls collectively shed tears of relief that the uncertainty of their uncle's loss finally had closure: He was alive, after all. Conversely, Camilo, Mirabel, and Antonio looked on in confusion at this open display of emotion. Bruno gathered all six of them into his arms—well, as much of them as he could with his small frame, anyway. Seven heads of beautiful curly hair—the image gave Julieta déjà vu.
Julieta noticed other things that cemented to her that her brother was back. Bruno looked visibly uncomfortable whenever anyone that was not family got too close. And even if it was family, even if it's their mother, Bruno flinched from touch that he did not initiate himself. In moments of quiet, Julieta often spotted Bruno staring into space, just as Luisa had described. It reminded Julieta of when he was having a vision. She remembered how scared she and Pepa had been to see their brother's eyes glowing for the first time. The empty, faraway look was still there now, and it still disturbed Julieta without the eerie green glow. It disturbed hers and Pepa's children, too, but Bruno never noticed them watching him. They didn't know what to do, except Dolores. Dolores would approach him and touch his hand or his shoulder, and Bruno would stir as if from a dream. He would thank her for snapping him out of it. Mirabel soon picked up the trick, too.
Some nights, while the family slept in tents near the house, Julieta heard Bruno whispering prayers, usually the Rosary. Her heart clenched when his words got interrupted by a whimper of pain. Just as before, Julieta could do nothing but let her brother let the migraine pass on his own.
Near the end of the second month, Julieta spotted Bruno examining paint swatches and occasionally looking up to search the crowd. She approached, making sure she was in his line of sight so she wouldn't startle him. She took a deep breath and said, "Bruno, I'm sorry—"
Bruno smiled nervously. "Again, Julieta? What for this time?"
"She's not here," she told him and braced herself for some kind of explosion.
Bruno busied himself with scanning the paint swatches again. "Yeah, but why?" He tried to keep his tone light, but his shoulders and throat just tensed up.
Julieta tried to meet his eyes, but he kept avoiding her gaze. "About a year after you disappeared, she left the Encanto. She didn't say if she was coming back. She still hasn't come back."
Bruno pursed his lips. He knew that Julieta noticed, so he held up the paint swatches between their faces. "Did she say where she was going?" His voice broke a little at the end.
Julieta was quickly realizing that she should have brought Pepa or Dolores along for this. "No."
Bruno cringed and dropped his arms. "Mierda. Couldn't you have chosen to talk about this later?"
"I know, I know—" Julieta started to reach out, but she felt suddenly afraid to touch him.
"No. You know what? It's fine." Bruno held up his head with a pained smile that Julieta had seen on Mirabel. Well, she had seen that fake smile on just about everyone in the family, but Mirabel flashed it most frequently.
"Bruno, you know it's not. But it's okay—"
"Right. It's okay. Now, I-I-I— I just need to go—"
"Bruno, don't—!" Julieta paused, cringing. She hadn't meant to let the panic slip into her voice.
But it unexpectedly made Bruno calm down a little. His eyes came into focus and looked into hers—a rare occurrence. "I'm just going into the trees over there, okay? I'll be back. Fifteen minutes, I promise—that's all I need." He squeezed her hands that had frozen in the space between them. "Fifteen minutes."
Bruno turned around and caught Camilo's gaze behind him. Camilo watched his uncle walk away for a couple of seconds before giving Julieta a questioning look. Julieta picked up the paint swatches from the ground and held it up to her nephew. "Wanna take another look?"
"Sure. Thanks." The boy slowly took the swatches and walked to another direction.
Julieta took a deep breath. "Fifteen minutes. He'll be back." And she went to find her daughters. Barely a few steps away, and Julieta came face-to-face with her Mamá instead. Suddenly Julieta realized what she had just made Bruno feel. "Camilo has the paint swatches. He went that way."
Julieta felt ridiculous. She couldn't even remember trying this trick on her mother as a child.
"I know what you're trying to do, but I think there are some things you want to say to me," said Mamá. "I promise I will listen. Padre Flores taught me how."
Julieta had been dreading a one-on-one with Alma Madrigal. But now, standing so close to her mother, Julieta realized that she had never talked to her mother about herself. "A lot of things, actually," Julieta began. "Mamá, most of my life was spent in front of a stove. All I've ever done was to serve others. Sometimes I imagine myself as a Julieta-shaped pan trenza, with everyone tearing off a bit of me, because all I'm good for is feeding and nourishing others. I love my gift because it gave me purpose. Erasing pain with a bite of my food, it's the most wonderful feeling. But Mamá, you made it a little harder than it had to be."
Tears of rage filled Julieta's eyes. Before she knew it, she was sobbing as if she were five again. She felt caught in a haze like excess smoke from a grill. She tried to reach for something that she could explain. "I'm so angry!" Julieta felt like she's in Bruno's dome of swirling sand except it was scintillating with embers of her red-hot rage. Her brother's pain—her sister's tears—her daughters' fake smiles. "I'm so angry! You should have known what you made me feel! My siblings—my daughters—they were hurting, and you didn't—! I felt like we were cattle!"
As she had promised, Mamá stayed quiet while Julieta paused to sob a little more before continuing: "My girls! My poor girls! And I was so weak. I've heard your talks with Luisa and Isabela. They were both so unhappy, and I missed the signs! I didn't see so clearly how much they were both hurting because pleasing you and serving the Encanto is all I've ever known! Sometimes I wish I had Pepa's and Bruno's guts and just screamed at you!" Julieta gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth. She'd done it! She'd screamed at her Mamá.
Julieta dared to look at her mother. Instead of indignation, Julieta found acceptance in her mother's gaze. Her own heart softened at the sight. "But I put up with all of it because I love you, Mamá."
Mamá cupped Julieta's face in her hands. "Mija, I know I can't change what I've done. Lord knows I want to. But we're still here. I'm sorry that it took this much pain for me to learn my lesson. But now I know. With or without the magic, you are what's important in my life. I love you."
"That's all I wanted to hear from you." Mamá kissed Julieta's cheeks and hugged her, just like she's always wanted.
"You are stronger and braver than you give yourself credit for, Julieta. Your daughters, they get their fire from you."
Julieta looked into her mother's eyes and found compassion that she hadn't seen before. She liked this new Mamá. Then, her mother's brown eyes shifted to someone behind Julieta. Julieta looked behind her and saw Bruno, fresh out of his own catharsis. Pepa was holding his hand. Mamá beckoned the two and embraced the three of them, just as she'd embraced them long ago at the river.