Life for Bruno was part having visions and half dodging them. The first one he could manage; it was only a simple matter (not easy, but simple) to let his Gift run its course, to take the future in his stride to keep in his memory or, if he was lucky, on an emerald plate. The second part was... a little trickier. Headaches? Check. Dizziness? Check. Long ruminations on life and its hidden meaning and how it all relates to insights of the philosophers of old? A hard habit to shake, although he'd been neglecting reading books nowadays.
Then there was Mirabel.
His third (!) sobrina with wide eyes and a curly shock of hair (his favorite? He shouldn't be having favorites) that kept on climbing up his lap and pulling at his hair at the most inopportune moments. Not that he minded; it kept his mind from spiraling down and leveraged him in the here and the now. At her touch she took all his distractions away and emptied his mind until only she was in his head.
"Tío, look at me!" she pleaded. They sat on Casita's front steps, a slight breeze blowing and the shadow of the rafters a welcome respite from the noonday heat. Bright yellow flowers nodded in a bush nearby, a handful of them already in his pockets (courtesy of his little admirer).
Bruno blinked the sleep from his eyes, gazing down at Mirabel and offering a slight smile. "Hm?"
"You're sleeping!"
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are!" Mirabel pouted, crossing her chubby arms and thrusting her chin up.
"Okay, okay, lo siento." Bruno adjusted the tilted glasses on her face and tucked a flower behind her ear. "Now, you were going to ask a question?" He pulled her higher up his lap, all her faux haughtiness (and wiggling) almost knocking her off. "Mi vida..."
She stared at him, still trying to keep up the guise, but she soon gave in, plucking the loose threads from his ruana. (Would she be an embroiderer in the future? Maybe a seamstress? Dios mio, what would Mamá think of that?) "Tío... what Gift do you think I'll get?"
The question took him out of nowhere, if he'll be honest, but he took a deep breath. What to say... The creation of the Miracle itself was a mystery (yes, their Papá died, but that was about it), as was their Casita and the Gifts that came after. Even the rooms, already ever familiar and expected, still was far from comprehension. (How could you fit a desert in a space that small?) If none of them could understand it, how much more could he explain it? To a four year old?
He twirled his hand and shrugged, glancing down at his sobrina. With other children he can sometimes forget they were children (Isabela acts as if she was 15) but with Mirabel, well, she screamed 'child' from head to toe. Which he shouldn't have let fly over his head.
She did not get the hint. "What do you think I'll get?"
Dios mio. "Well... about that..." He gathered his fragmented thoughts and managed to form them into a sentence. "I think you'll be an amazing help to the family. You'll make our family proud."
She nodded. "I know..."
He exhaled.
"But how? Tío, tell me!"
So much for hoping. "I don't know, Mira, it's always different for every member of the family. We'll find out when we get to your ceremony." A clean dodge, but Mirabel frowned and pouted again, scrambling off his lap. "Where are you going?"
She plopped down on the step beside him. Sighing, Bruno tapped her shoulder and pointed at the plants climbing up the walls of the Casita. "Maybe you'll be able to make flowers like Isa." Quite lame, true, but desperate times called for desperate measures. His mind wasn't always in 'novella' mode.
When Mirabel brightened, he kept on talking. "Maybe you'd make palma de cera, or jacarandas. That way we wouldn't have to stay under the roofs; you'd give us shade, and you can give people flowers to hold." He paused as Mirabel tugged on his sleeve, her face scrunched in deep thought so much that Bruno held back a laugh. "Ah, what's going on behind those glasses of yours?"
"What's your Gift, Tío?"
"Ah..." His neck prickled and he exhaled, hiding the tension in his chest with a smile. "It's complicated." She took his extended hand to sit back up on his lap, resuming her attack on his ruana. At this rate it would unravel completely, but it was the least of his worries.
"But what is it?"
My, isn't she insistent. With that lost gaze at him and the dimpled smile, he sighs, and the words almost tumble out of his mouth. She's warm and it must be that warmth that's making him melt and give and spoil her. Not completely, however, and too many reasons come to mind—she's too young, there are burdens not meant to be carried, it was his responsibility to keep her innocent and safe and alright.
And for a moment distractions bled into his head and his thoughts traversed back to the deep, tangled labyrinths of his mind. His skin tingled and faint shadows of green flit in his vision. He draws in a sharp breath.
"Tío!"
Mirabel yanked his arm and his mind back to here and now, the coming future vanishing into vapor. Bruno blinked at her, gathering his surroundings and the pieces of his consciousness back together. "Sobrina..."
His visions never halted this abruptly before.
Mirabel still clutched his arm. "Are you okay?"
"Well..." At least his head wasn't aching yet. "I'm all right."
She squints at him through those wide-rimmed glasses and placed her hands on her lap. "You're sleeping again!" Before Bruno could speak, she added, "You were going to tell me your Gift—"
"Never mind that, sobrina, we should be thinking about you, of all things." He pressed down the drumming in his ribs and twirls his sobrina's hair in his index. "Especially now that you'll get your Gift." It took him all his strength to keep the bitterness from the word. "Come now, Juli will be looking for you."
Mirabel clung to him, giggling as he carries her and almost (!) toppling backwards into the dandelions. Bruno stepped back, catching himself, and huffs. "Be more careful."
When Mirabel leaped out of his arms and into Julieta's embrace, he slipped away, climbing back to the tower before her warmth evaporates out of him and before his thoughts come down from dandelions and wind to darkness.