To Love at all is to Love Entirely

by alex the bordercollie

"Cada parte de mí está equivocada. My mind, my heart, even my gift, it's all wrong." Bruno spat bitterly as he hugged his knees. Tears were streaming down his face now. "I know it feels like the world has no place for you. Por favor, Te lo ruego, don't ever give up looking for one. If you can't find a place then makeone, pero nunca te rindas."

8. Archivist

︵‿୨ - January 24 1951 - ୧‿︵

Wilfredo hated exercise. Every time. It was uncomfortable, sweaty, and humiliating. Even alone it made him painfully aware of his every physical flaw. His own fatigue, a mocking reminder of the necessity of this masochism. It was a maddening process that rarely yielded desirable results. Perhaps that was because he always found some excuse to drop the habit before it could amount to much.

"Working out again? You've got it bad hombre." Jacqueline's high-pitched whistle was condescending. It only served to add insult to injury as he performed crunches on the tiny strip of bare floor on his side of the room.

"Self-improvement... does not require... justification." He breathed irritably between repetitions.

"Don't suppose that self-improvement would include a bath?" She teased.

Wilfredo pulled himself up over his knees and glared at her. "If you don't stop talking I'm going to gag you with my sock." He threatened. Fully aware of how badly he'd been sweating.

Jacqueline only laughed. Squeezing her way through the door. It couldn't quite be opened all the way on account of one of the chests he'd moved to make space.

"What are you even doing here at this hour? You should be working."

"I am, I am." Jacqueline insisted as she held up one of her shoes. "I broke a heel. Had to come by for my spares."

Wilfredo massaged the growing pain in his temple. Jacqueline meerly flopped down onto her bed mat on the other side of the curtain. "Again, Jacqueline?! I'm not replacing them this time we don't have the money!" He scolded.

The both of them had grown up with wealth and privilege. He felt like even after ten years of making it on their own his sister never seemed to fully appreciate the value of things. Perhaps because she never had to pay for them.

"Que tu linda cabecita no se preocupe por eso." She dismissed as she fished a spare set of heels from her suitcase. "There's una zapatero in town. She said he'd fix them for me."

"Let me guess-" Wilfredo stopped as it dawned on him. "Un momento, you actually befriended a woman?" He replied in disbelief.

Jacqueline responded with a dry fake laugh.

"Dios mio! This town really is a miracle!" He proclaimed. "It's made mi hermanita salaz into an honest woman!"

Jacqueline threw a dirty wash rag from her pocket at his face. "Don't try to be funny. You'll hurt yourself."

Wilfredo peeled the disgusting rag from his sweaty forehead. Still, he couldn't help smiling wickedly at his hermanita when he saw the irritation on her face. She liked to act like she was hard as nails. Too tough to care or ever be flustered, but they were siblings. He knew her better than anyone. Knew how to push her buttons as much as she could push his. He earned this win. He didn't need her belittling his attempts to fight his baser urges.

"Guarda esa sonrisa de maricón para tu enamorado."

On the topic of baser urges.

"This isn't about Bruno." Wilfreod insisted. His smile falling prey to a scowl. He huffed and he pulled himself up off the floor. His legs wobbling slightly from an early part of his routine.

"Sure it isn't." Jacqueline teased. She never could conceed any ground, could she?

"I mean it. I'm running out of things to do. I need something to keep me occupied and I figure I might as well be productive with my free time." He sat down and poured some water from the glass he kept on the nightstand into his palm. Splashing his face. It was only barely cooler than the rest of the room but still felt relieving on his flushed skin.

He'd been working on the library since he got here. Cleaning, renovating. When he ran out of improvements he could make to the library he'd started cleaning and reoganizing Señor Robledo's living space. The old man was starting to complain about his home body fussing. He needed something to do with his time or he was going to go mad. Maybe he could start looking for more work to do around town. He'd been using Sunday mass to get familiar with some of their neighbors. Surely one of them could give him something to do? It was only the first week but he already adored story hour with the local kids. Maybe he could take up full-time tutoring?

"I don't know, I think aumentar tus conquistas sounds pretty productive to me. Honestly, I don't know how you're ever going to catch up to me at this rate." Jacqueline taunted.

"I'm not playing your stupid game Jacqueline. I never was."

"You say that…" She purred as she watched him boil. "This one's magical too, lucky! I might just give you dos puntos for that. It's too bad he doesn't have a brother. The in-laws are just, normal, besides I don't think I'm gonna have any luck there."

"Keep your hands off the Madrigals Jacqueline." As if it needed to be said.

"I know." She whined. "I'm a good girl now remember? You said it yourself. Gonna go talk to mi chica about my broken shoe." She turned to leave but popped her head back in a moment to add. "En serio, bañarte!"

As if she thought he needed reminding. Wilfredo would never leave the house smelling like this and she very well knew it. Besides, the cold water would help him shake his growing drowsiness.

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

He cleaned up. Made coffee. Went to check the book return. Selected reading options for story hour that afternoon. Baked snacks for the kids. Helped his landlord with some chores around the house. Added to the town map he'd been working on after a conversation with said landlord. Made more coffee and was taking notes at his desk on biblical prophets when his own prophet finally arrived.

He was rather deep in thought when he heard the familiar knocking. Six knocks. This was the third time now. Always six. Very rhythmic. Consistent. It was oddly calming. Bruno was very consistent. Wilfredo liked consistency.

He'd told Bruno on the first day he didn't have to knock but he'd come to rather appreciate the routine. He'd go prop the door open. Swat Camilo's hands away from the treats. They'd go over his reading suggestions for the day before Bruno would usually settle on something he was personally fond of. Camilo didn't seem to care too much what they read. He didn't seem like he was much of a reader himself. Not surprising. Camilo reminded him of Jacqueline in more than a few ways. They were both naturally outgoing, vibrant, personalities. Tricksters who thrived in the spotlight. Thankfully though, for the Madrigals, Camilo seemed to have a much steadier head on his shoulders. He lacked Jacqueline's impulsive temper. Wilfredo was glad for that. He wasn't sure how Bruno would survive living with someone as volatile as Jacqueline. He wasn't sure how he'd managed it for so long to be perfectly honest.

Today they were reading short stories from, Moral Tales for Formal Children, a battered old nineteen-o-one edition. Not the sort of thing he would expect Bruno to choose given his usual leaning toward escapism and happy endings but apparently, it was something his mother used to read to her children when they were young. Now that was something that didn't surprise him. Nostalgia aside, Wilfredo would ask the children what they thought the moral of a story was. Bruno would offer some comedically slanted interpretation of the text for the kids to dispute. There was something slightly rebellious about the way Bruno engaged with fiction. Playful certainly, tame, but rebellious. Just a tad.

Their first story time Bruno had largely sat back and simply watched as Wilfredo engaged with the children. Now, he seemed to be getting the hang of the process and he joined in the discussions. Often playing devil's advocate. Jacqueline seemed pretty charmed by it when she caught him doing it. Butting her head in through the window to make a disturbance of herself.

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

"I think it was a curse." Bruno insisted. Laying sideways in his chair with his feet on the end table. He often sat in strange ways. It was as if the man forgot how to use his chair when he was properly distracted. "How else do you think she got all those riches?" Bruno reached a sinister claw out over the crowd of snickering children. "She made a deal with El Diablo!"

"Sí! He put a demon in her belly that ate up all her happiness!" Jacqueline added with glee from the window.

Wilfredo groaned when he registered her presence. "It's greed, the correct answer is greed." He insisted. Leaning over the desk to shoo his sister away. He knew she didn't actually care about the story she was just here to cause trouble.

"I thought you said stories don't have a right answer." One of the kids reminded him. A few others chorused in agreement.

Wilfredo turned back to face the sea of wide-eyed betrayal.

"I did say that, didn't I?" He replied. Simultaneously frustrated at being called out and deeply proud the children had been taking his lessons to heart. He sat down to explain calmly that he had in fact not contradicted himself.

"Normally that would be true..." He replied. "Pero mi hermanita is wrong about everything, all of the time."

"Oye!" Jacqueline protested.

"It's a chronic, life-long, condition. Of which there is no cure, I'm afraid." He explained with the utmost sincerity. He shook his head sadly and clicked his tongue. "It's a dreadful condition to live with but I love her dearly so for her I'm willing to make sacrifices."

"Oooooh, you just gonna let him talk about you like that?" Camilo challenged. His eyes wide and glittering with excitement as he awaited Jacqueline's reply.

"Ah, sí. Do feel free to correct me mija." Wilfredo challenged with a devilish grin. He leaned back in his chair and shifted his glasses. Keen to see her reponce. He knew he'd won this round.

He delighted in the red blush on her face. Watching her open and close her mouth like a fish. Trying to think of a reply. It was her own fault. She'd made the mistake of challenging him in his territory. He knew she would struggle for a comeback absent the ability to fall back on her usual vulgarity.

"What's the matter tonta? Did you forget your words?" He teased

"Eh niños! Be nice." Bruno barked as licked his boney finger to flip through old pages.

Wilfredo's heart skipped a beat for a moment. His mind briefly malfunctioning as he processed the scolding. Bruno wasn't that much older than him. In the grand scheme of it all, ten years wasn't much. Despite himself, it still did strange things to his heart when Bruno talked to him like he was a child. It was pleasing in a way he was deeply embarrassed to admit.

Jacqueline leaned over the window frame to smirk at him.

"Shouldn't you be working?" He snapped.

"I was just passing by." She lied. He knew his sister better than that. Knew her curiosity. She was slacking off to spy on them and she very well knew he knew.

"Well get going then." He chastised. "I'm sure you have more productive things to be doing with your time."

He heard what sounded like a mildly displeased short from Bruno but when he looked back at him could catch no hint of displeasure. Did he say something wrong?

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

They read one more poem before the hour was over. Wilfredo, unfortunately, had to cut the discussion short as they started to run a little late to wrap up. He was always careful to watch the clock and make sure the Madrigals were out the door before Señor Robledo would wake up from his afternoon nap. He didn't know what had gone down to make Bruno so skittish of the man. The elderly fellow never seemed to mention Bruno one way or the other. Then again, he didn't talk much. Whatever the reason Bruno's comfort was a priority Wilfredo took very seriously.

"Hasta luego Wil." Camilo waved as he trotted out the door. Wilfredo never gave the boy permission to call him that. He just started doing it unprompted and Wilfredo never really felt like challenging him on it. Even Jacqueline never called him Wil. It was crass and unprofessional. At least that's what Padre always said. Insisting that if he'd meant to name him Wil he would have. Having already set to reshelving the few books the kids had returned Wilfredo merely called back a faint farewell. Never acknowledging the unconsented nickname

"You coming Tío Bruno?"

Wilfredo paused for a moment listening for Bruno's reply as he crouched down to reach a low shelf.

"Hm? You go ahead. I'll catch up in a minute."

Wilfredo couldn't see him. separated by the bookshelves. Bruno sounded distracted. He couldn't help but wonder what had caught the man's attention. Containing his curiosity he reshelved the remaining three books in his arm at a casual pace before peering back around the shelf to see what Bruno was up to.

Bruno didn't notice him when he peered around the shelf. Wilfredo remained unnoticed as he watched him. Bruno was looking at the open greek bible and notes Wilfredo had left on his desk. Running slender fingers over the pages as he turned his head to read the upside-down text.

Wilfredo cleared his throat and watched him jump.

"Oh, I wasn't, perdóname." He fumbled out as he wrung his hands together and looked shamefaced at the floor.

Bruno was such a beautiful contradiction of maturity and vulnerability. He looked so small and timid at times. Wilfredo wanted so badly to hold that delicate little frame. He made sure to swallow that infatuation. He couldn't afford to indulge such fantasies. Such tender emotions were a liability he couldn't afford. He made his way over to the desk to collect his things.

"It's no trouble." Wilfredo replied gently. "Though you probably shouldn't be in the habit of looking over people's private notes."

"I didn't, I just noticed and thought it was weird, not weird, interesting." Bruno stammered.

Wilfredo turned to look at him as he collected his bible and notebook. He tucked them under his arm and turned to meet Bruno's wide hazel eyes. The sunlight from the window made the green flecks of his iris shimmer. His eyes were so wide and vibrate. So colorful. For a moment Wilfredo almost felt lost in a forest.

"Was that greek?" Bruno asked.

"Oh?" Wilfredo pulled the bible from under his arm to examine the cover as if he'd forgotten. "Sí, I'm fond of using older sources. A lot of things can get lost in translation over time."

"You're fluent in greek?" Bruno seemed faintly impressed.

"Greek, Latin, Italian, and English of course." Wilfredo couldn't help but feel a little flattered. There were a few other languages he knew enough of but he wasn't going to brag over anything less than full fluency. "Greek, Latin and English can carry you pretty far as a researcher. Most recent scientific studies make their way into English if they aren't published in English, to begin with."

Bruno crossed his arms and leaned back against the desk to think. "A case study of biblical prophets?" He asked.

Wilfredo's notes were always diligently labeled and organized. Bruno might not read Greek but he'd clearly been looking over the notes he'd left open on the desk.

"My latest pet project." Wilfredo explained. Careful not to make that sound any more suspicious than it already was.

Bruno seemed to ponder before giving up. "I've been wondering what subject you used to teach. I was thinking at first you were a literature professor but then you go and bring up scientific studies... Ya estoy de vuelta al punto de partida." Bruno grumbled. Clearly frustrated over his seeming inability to figure Wilfredo out.

Wilfredo couldn't help but smile. He leaned against the desk next to him. "Literature would be a dream wouldn't it?" He admitted. "Pero no, I taught history at Del Rosario's School of Human Sciences." He hung his head for a minute as he thought back to his old lecture hall in Bogotá.

"My father wanted me to follow his lead and go into politics. I wanted to be an educator so badly it hurt. In the end, we compromised. He would never have accepted me going into the arts. History was acceptable to him I suppose. Not that I dislike history. Fortunately for him I have very diverse interests. I've also taught philosophy and sociology at a few different schools."

Bruno's gaze was on him again. His eyes were scanning his face. For what Wilfredo didn't know. They were sympathetic if a bit sad.

"I'm glad you got to pursue your passions at least." Bruno replied. "I imagine tutoring a handful of country kids probably doesn't really compare to the real thing."

"Oh no, no!" Wilfredo was eager to correct him. "Far from it! Children are the best kind of students. I honestly wish I'd had more chances to work with children." Wilfredo felt so light as he gushed. "Once you know how to hold their attention, they're so much more passionate than college students. They're young and the world is still so new to them. Even the mundane is still fantastical through a child's eyes." He couldn't help the whistful tone that escaped him.

Wilfredo stopped himself. He realized he was leaning uncomfortably close to the small prophet. He couldn't help but notice in that moment, that Bruno hadn't shied away from him. He didn't flinch or even seem to notice. Engrossed in Wilfredo's words as he himself had been. Despite Bruno's seeming lack of discomfort however, Wilfredo still felt self-conscious. He straightened up to collect himself.

"I'm glad I found this place." Wilfredo confessed. "It's nice getting to teach without school boards and politicians breathing down my neck. It's brought a little bit of that whimsy into my life. Reminded my why I loved teaching so much. I'm going to miss it."

Bruno looked away and scratched at his cheek. "I guess it is pretty whimsical if you're not used to it." He dismissed. Still, he turned back to smile correctively. "Don't mind me. I'm just a bit worn out on magic myself. I'm glad it's inspired you though. At least something good came out of you getting lost."

Wilfredo couldn't help but feel a little sad despite Bruno's friendly smile. This unexpected detour in his life felt like something he didn't know he needed. Dull as it could be here sometimes. It still felt so special to him. So spectacular. Bruno wasn't the one who'd have to leave this please. Return to the messy complicated world outside. It made him sad his friend didn't seem to realize just how good he had it here.

Wilfredo turned to check the clock again.

"Señor Robledo will be waking up any minute now. If you don't want to be spotted you should get going."

Bruno looked a little disappointed as he pulled away from the desk. He turned back with an awkward smile and a shy rub of his arm. "You make it sound like we're doing something wrong." He chuckled awkwardly.

"I don't know, you tell me." Wilfredo replied curtly. He turned to return his research materials to his room.

Bruno didn't reply but Wilfredo felt the door in his chest when he heard it close. He hadn't meant to be so curt. It just slipped out. He deeply enjoyed story hour at the library. It brought him a joy he hadn't felt in a long time. But Bruno was right, on some level. He was exploiting the man who was giving him shelter to indulge in some selfish fantasy. It hurt to be reminded of that.

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

Wilfredo didn't allow himself to dwell on that hurt for long. He was quick to find ways to make himself useful when the old man woke up. Another cup of coffee, anything to keep him awake. When dinner rolled around he enjoyed cooking for Robledo. Wilfredo needed to keep his calorie count down but enjoyed cooking. He would get drunk off the smell of meals he couldn't eat himself.

"Quit sniffing the food extraño." Robledo griped from his seat at the table.

"Perdón, the smell is just too tempting." Wilfredo replied with a bashful grin. Filling a bowl with cuchuco for his landlord.

"Then eat. No one's stopping you." He grumbled as Wilfredo brought the soup to the table.

"Oh no, no. I already hit my calorie count today ." He explained. He went to pluck a grapefruit from the crate by the door. Something to tide him over until morning. This town never ceased to amaze him.

Mirabel came by every Saturday morning to inquire on Robledo's health. Ask if there was anything they needed restocked. The town kept tabs on its production and there was a market of sorts where folks would go by to pick up what they needed. No one ever had to pay. The folks who ran the place would simply record what has been taken and by who. Townspeople like Robledo who struggled to make it to the market, they would send a council representative by to check in and bring them whatever they needed.

Wilfredo sat down and peeled the grapefruit Luisa had dropped off. He'd mentioned it offhand to Mirabel and received a crate of them that Sunday afternoon, among other groceries. He briefly wondered if perhaps Robeldo's mobility wouldn't be better if he made the effort to go pick things up at the market for himself.

Robledo grunted at Wilfredo's reply as though he was deeply unsatisfied with it but said nothing. Slipping spoonfuls of soup past his mustache.

He was an impressive ninety-eight years old with a long thin scar across one side of his face. So thin you only noticed it when the light hit his skin a certain way. He still had all his hair, though it was a dusty gray color, and a full beard and mustache he seemed to take great pride in. His leg, Wilfredo had learned, had been badly mangled in a construction accident in the town's early days. Before Julieta got her gift. He could still walk, though required a cane. Julieta would send him baked goods to help manage the pain it still caused him day to day.

"How was story hour today?" He grumbled dispassionately.

He always acted disinterested. Wilfredo had come to understand this was mostly a farce. As grumpy and detached from the rest of the town as he was, he clearly cared about this place and its people deeply. Perhaps his irritable demeanor was more a product of his handicap and age making it hard to be more involved. Unfortunately, he was too stubborn and prideful to ask people to include him. It didn't help that he had a very strong brow with scruffy caterpillar eyebrows that made him look perpetually irate regardless of how he was feeling.

"Wonderful, as always. The children in this town are very bright and curious." Wilfredo smiled encouragingly. Seperating off a section of grapefruit.

"I don't know what kind of pact you made to get those kids to read." Robledo replied skeptically. "Very generous of you to sell your soul for our benefit." A joke, blunt and dry in its delivery but a joke nonetheless. "Or very stupid."

Wilfredo shook his head with a slight chuckle. H didn't bother counter-arguing with him. Robledo was far too stubborn to be argued with.

The old man was a teacher in his former life. Apparently when the town was new what books they had were all kept in a makeshift schoolhouse. The library was built later on. Robledo trained the town's current teacher. It seemed as far as he could tell they built the library as a gift to the man whose mobility made it hard to keep up with rowdy children. It made him sad to imagine. Wilfredo's most substantial experience teaching kids was back when he was still getting his degree. He loved it dearly but his father wouldn't have allowed him to settle for such a humble profession. He could imagine how much Robledo must have loved his job. How much it must have hurt to be replaced. Brushed aside because he was too old. Too broken...

"What can I say? I love teaching." Wilfredo finally replied. Not an argument, just an acknowledgment. Perhaps he was foolish. It didn't matter. He knew Robledo was the same kind of fool at heart.

Alma was wise to send him to live with this man. She'd made the decision so easily. So quickly. Robledo needed company though he would never ask for it. Perhaps she had sent him to work for the man not because the library needed it, but because the librarian needed it. She may have been curt and a bit condescending to him in their interactions, nevertheless, clearly she'd chosen the best place for Wilfredo. He was grateful for that.

Robledo laughed a dry throaty laugh. "Eh, you'll change your tune, give it time. Esos niños son pequeños demonios, I'm telling you."

The creak of the front door caught Wilfredo's attention. The library and Robledo's house were conjoined and while the house had a front door it was used so little the hinges had rusted and it was difficult to open, he'd left his crate of fruit in front of the door, and thought nothing of it on account of how rarely it was used. He watched in utter bewilderment. Jacqueline was forcing the door open just wide enough to squeeze through.

"Why is there always so much merida blocking the door?" She complained.

"Why in the world wouldn't you just use the library door!?" He reasoned.

"Stop locking it and maybe I will!"

Wilfredo groaned as the scene made sense of itself. "Did you lose your key again?"

"So what if I did." Jacqueline spat. She brushed the wrinkles out of her dress and shoved the stubborn door shut again. Sauntering clumsily into the kitchen to help herself to dinner. "I don't know why you bother locking the door in the first place."

She ladled out a bowl of her brother's cooking and shoveled a spoonful into her mouth with as little grace as possible. "It's a library. It's not like anyone's gonna steal anything."

"Don't talk with your mouth full." Wilfredo scolded. "You're not an animal."

Jacqueline rolled her eyes and covered her mouth with an irritated huff.

"She's right chico." Robledo told him. "There's not much need to lock your doors around here. We only have the locks in case…"

The old man stopped for a moment and furrowed his brow. Wilfredo saw a little spark of some old fear in his eyes before he looked up at him expectantly.

"Bueno, ya sabes. Sabes?"

Wilfredo gave a small nod in acknowledgment. Robledo didn't have to say it. He wouldn't make him explain. Raids. An old fear that could still be felt permeating the town.

The younger folks lived as though they'd never known danger. The older folks, the ones who founded this town, they knew. Wilfredo knew. He was young. The man across from him lost his wife, his home, before Wilfredo was even born. Nevertheless, Wilfredo had seen violence in his time. He was acutely aware of what cruel fate could befall this paradise if the wrong people found it. He couldn't blame the locals for their misgivings about him.

"See, he doesn't care! So stop locking the door before I break it off the hinges." Jacqueline threatened from her perch on the counter. Still talking past mouthfuls of food as she inhaled her meal.

"You break my house I'll break you chica." Robledo threatened. His eyes never leaving his bowl as he took another bite.

"I'd like to see you try viejo." Jacqueline challenged playfully.

Again Robledo's gaze didn't shift He lifted his cane with one hand and cracked it hard against the ground. A loud, sharp sound, intimidating and practiced. He pointed the end of his cane at Jacqueline. Nearly touching her given the narrow space.

"No me provoques mija. Don't think you're too old to get the stick." He challenged back.

Wilfredo couldn't help but snicker. Catching a slight grin trying to hide under the old man's mustache.

"Sí, Papi." Jacqueline sighed obediently. She set her empty bowl down and nudged the cane from her face. Slipping down from the counter. "I'll be good." She promised. She walked over and planted a kiss on the man's temple before heading upstairs.

Jacqueline had a reputation for being a flirt but truthfully it was more than that. Always had been. She was a very affectionate woman, touch was her love language, that and mockery. One might see the way she interacted with the old man as inappropriate, especially given the short time they'd known him. Robledo didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to appreciate her touch. It wasn't sexual. It was a kind of gentle affection. Like that of a daughter to her father. Robledo probably missed that. Jacqueline had a keen sense for what kind of touch a person needed.

Robledo's house was small, cramped, and dusty. It was neglected and empty when the Fontana siblings arrived. On nights like these, however? The tiny library really did start to feel like home. He'd felt this way before in a few places over the years, with a few people. Those little sanctuaries never lasted long in his experience. He was always grateful for them when he found them. This one was about to be challenged.

︵‿୨ - January 26 1951 - ୧‿︵

He'd let this place lull him into complacency. This mistake didn't have to happen. It was amateur and easily avoidable.

He didn't sleep that night. Grateful for once that his sister had decided to retire to someone else's bed for the night. He stared at the ceiling as he lay in bed. Watching the smoke trails as he wasted one of his good cigars. He was furious. So enraged he needed something to soothe his temper. That temper never did him any good and he full well knew it.

Why hadn't he told him? Bruno had seen this coming. Wilfredo could have prepared. He wanted so badly to blame Bruno for the accident. It was so feverishly tempting. He could relieve his own guilt and avoid responsibility for his failure. Wouldn't that be nice? He was starting to understand why Bruno seemed so unpopular with the adults in town. "What happens will happen." Wilfredo couldn't bring himself to believe Bruno was a liar. If his visions were in fact the unavoidable truth then perhaps there was some sense in him keeping it to himself. After all, Bruno had been able to handle the situation just fine on his own. That wasn't the point though was it? Wilfredo should have been able to handle it- No this shouldn't have happened in the first place.

This was his fault and he knew it. Blaming Bruno wouldn't change that. It was a selfish impulse he couldn't allow himself to indulge. This town was making him sloppy, making him stupid.

He let out a long shaky breath as his anger slowly settled into a cold resolve. His hands resting on his chest Fiddling with the cigar between his fingers for a moment or two before bringing it back to his lips.

He had to fix this. He needed to protect his reputation in this town. Needed to ensure nothing like this ever happened again under his watch. Bruno told him this wasn't his fault. It was a kind gesture, but wrong. Not a lie. Bruno wasn't a liar. He was simply wrong. Wilfredo was not a good man at heart and he knew that. He knew he was an angry, slothful, perverse, creature and worked his hardest to keep those selfish impulses at bay. To earn his place in the world.

With his thoughts collected, he got up, made coffee, and went to his desk in the library. He spent hours drafting the document in his notes. Formulating questions that would cover as much ground as possible while keeping it short and to the point. If he was going to continue tutoring these kids he needed to know everything he could about his students. He also needed to maintain his friendly unintrusive persona. His questionnaire needed to be something that wouldn't take too much time out of the parent's day. He also needed to consider his delivery. He couldn't allow himself to come across as obsessive or neurotic. Even if it he was those things in truth. He didn't want other people to know that.

Robeledo had a printing press on his property but it was broken and had fallen into disuse not long after Dolores got her gift. He'd have to make a mental note to repair it later. It would benefit the town to have it running again.

In the meantime Wilfredo wrote out each copy by hand. Using rulers to ensure uniformity. His handwriting had always been impeccable. The copies were barely distinguishable from one another. That said he didn't realize just how long he'd spent on them until he heard the library door creak open.

︵‿୨ - January 27 1951 - ୧‿︵

He looked up slightly dazed by the faint dawn light. It was still very early. Few people would be awake at this hour. Even the small hint of sunlight that came in through the open door felt like a slight shock to his senses.

"You're up awfully early." Jacqueline teased.

Wilfredo wasn't in the mood for her teasing. "I could say the same to you. Fun night?" He replied bitterly. He really, really, wasn't in the mood.

"As a matter of fact, I did. Someone spit in your coffee hermano?"

He looked back down at his documents trying to remember if he had made enough. His mind was growing blurry. He didn't have the energy to banter with Jacqueline. A pair of delicate hands slid over his shoulders, massaging them slightly. Not now Jacqueline. He didn't deserve this. Not now. Not after what he did.

"Did you stay up all night cariño?" She asked. Her voice was gentle. Sickeningly so. He preferred her being annoying.

"I had work to do." He replied curtly. Trying to shrug her off.

Jacqueline only tightened her grip on him. Wrapping her arms around his neck and sliding her head down onto his shoulder.

"Work can wait corazón." She insisted as she subtly pulled him back from the desk.

Wilfredo wanted so badly to fight her. She was trying to tempt him. She was always so lazy, so irresponsible, and selfish, trying to make him like her.

"I still have to-"

Jacqueline turned him around and cut him off. "You need to sleep hermano." She said sternly.

"I don't-"

She covered his mouth with her hand. Muffling his protests. "Wilfredo, cariño, mi vida, I know su muy inteligente. You need sleep. I shouldn't have to explain that to you. Whatever you're doing, it can wait."

Wilfredo stood up and shoved her hands away. How dare she. She had no idea what was going on. It's not like she was there. Not like she'd been paying attention. She didn't even ask what was wrong. She didn't care. Didn't care how bad the problem was.

"There was an accident." He explained sternly. "I'm trying to make sure it doesn't happen again. I have to fix this!" His voice raised a few octaves higher than he'd intended. Hovering over her delicate frame.

He wasn't that much taller but he was a big man. He knew that, but she wasn't intimidated. Never by him.

Jacqueline put her hands on his chest and started gently pushing him away from the desk. "Sleep." She insisted sternly. "Whatever it is I'm sure you'll handle it just fine once you're rested and thinking clearly."

Wilfredo began to falter. The anger that had fueled him all night was starting to fail him.

"I- Robledo will be getting up soon... if I go to bed now-"

Jacqueline cut him off again. He allowed her to continue herding him back into the house. "I'll make him his breakfast. You sleep. A late start never killed anyone, but if you don't go to bed soon I might." She threatened playfully.

He gave up the will to fight with her and merely nodded in defeat. Allowing her guide him up the stairs. She gave his hand a little squeeze and kissed his cheek. He watched her trot downstairs to decide on what to make for breakfast.

Wilfredo crawled into bed slowly. Not bothering to undress or even kick off his shoes. He simply curled up tight under the covers and closed his eyes. His veins hurt. He didn't like being angry. Didn't like the way it felt afterward. Everything hurt and much to his displeasure he was in fact very tired. He blacked out almost immediately.

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

When finally he awoke his whole body ached. His eyes burned. He wanted nothing more than to keep sleeping. He couldn't keep sleeping. He couldn't just sleep his whole day away. He needed to be productive. It was a struggle just to move at first. His body was so heavy. Why did he have to be so heavy? Why was it so exhausting just to move? He hated this feeling, but it was far too familiar. With some effort he managed to drag himself out of bed. Slapping his cheeks to try and get blood flow to his brain. He was still foggy and disoriented, but the sun was up. It didn't take long for him to register how far the light stretched across the floor and realize just how late he had slept.

"Ay, carajo!"

He was fully dressed still but opted to change anyway rather than walk around in the now wrinkled clothes he'd slept in. It of course killed more of his precious time but he had to look somewhat presentable. He took note of his belt. Counting the holes. His size hadn't changed. Better than gaining weight at least. Brushed his hair and checked his breath. Serviceable for now.

Jacqueline was in the kitchen when he went downstairs. She should be at work.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded.

"It's Saturday pendejo, if I wanna stay home and look after mi hermano mayor I can."

"No me uses como excusa para flojear." Wilfredo grumbled irritably. He snatched up the coffee his sister offered him. He took a large greedy swig only to spit it back out into the cup as the taste of milk and sugar hit his tongue. "Puaj, what is this!"

"I sweetened it. I know how you like it." She replied flatly. She crossed her arms indignantly and leaned back against the counter.

"I don't care about the taste." He almost shouted as he slammed the cup back on the counter. Wilfredo stopped himself. Took a deep breath and repeated calmly. "I don't care about the taste. I'm trying to cut back."

Jacqueline snorted. "Cut back on living is more like it. Pero beuno, it's your life I can't tell you what to do with it."

He'd half expected her to fight with him. Her response disarmed him a bit. He'd been geared up for an argument. He almost felt a bit guilty now for snapping. He looked for the coffee pot to get himself a black cup and noticed the food on the counter. Some arepas. Still warm. She made them recently.

"Why did you let me sleep in so late?" He asked. Trying not to be angry with her. Trying not to get defensive. Ultimately, it wasn't her fault. It was his own lack of self control. He should have gotten up on his own.

"Cause you needed it tonto." Jacqueline rolled her eyes. "It's the weekend, relax. Diego's running the library."

Jacqueline was so quick to throw around their landlord's first name. Her casual nature frustrated him but it was hardly worth arguing over. Wilfredo took a drink of his coffee. It tasted so much worse than the cup his sister had made for him. He was so tempted to take the cup she gave him. He couldn't. He hadn't earned sugar. Especially not after sleeping in all day. At least he was starting to feel human again.

"You should eat." Jacqueline gestured to the plate on the counter with her lips.

Wilfredo looked down at the food she'd clearly made for him.

"I'm not hungry." He grumbled.

"No me vengas con eso!"

"I'll eat later!" He insisted.

Jacqueline glared at him. Leaning in to examine his face. She finally dropped the subject.

Wilfredo finished his coffee with his sister eyeing him like a hawk. "I need to go. I have paperwork to pass out around town so if you'll excuse me."

Jacqueline grabbed his wrist as he stepped away from the counter to leave. "What are you talking about? The tablas start in an hour. Mijo you're out of time for that."

"Then I guess I'll just have to skip the tablas this week." He corrected. Pulling his hand away from her.

"Oh no, you don't. You love those stupid things. You can pass out your flyers or whatever tomorrow." She scolded.

"Jacqueline, this is serious!"

"And so is this!" Despite the fire in her voice, he could see the worry in his hermanita's eyes. "It can wait." She insisted.

Wilfredo wanted to argue with her. He wanted to fight her. He had to make up for yesterday's mistakes. That was vital. The worry in her eyes stopped him. She was normally so brave and headstrong. He hated seeing her worry. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps taking a day to collect himself wouldn't hurt. He could handle the encounters ahead better if he was calmer.

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Bueno. I'll do it tomorrow after church."

Jacqueline eased up and gave him a pleased smile. "That's better."

She reached up to hug his neck and Wilfredo shoved her off irritably. "Vale, vale, let's just go already."

They could get there early. The sunshine would probably do him some good.

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

He did his best to be friendly and cordial to those who said hello to him. Kept his back straight and a smile on his face. He was tired, angry, worried, but no one would know if he had any say in it. He regretted not brushing his teeth. Granted he hadn't eaten anything and no one seemed to notice. It still bothered him. He was quick to take a seat at the end of the bar by the television. It was on at the time. Thankfully no one seemed to be paying attention when he flicked it off to reduce the noise in his immediate surroundings. Every little sound made his head pound.

He kept most of his socializing to a minimum for the time being. He'd respond when people spoke to him. Noding along and pretending to listen as neighbors rambled to him. He'd managed to leave a good impression on the town so far. He somewhat regretted that now as he realized how many people seemed to enjoy his company. Jacqueline seemed to notice he was on autopilot. She managed to monopolize any conversations so he wouldn't actually have to think. He was grateful to her for that. He did start to feel a little better. The bright sun seeped into his bones and energized him. Now if only Jacqueline would stop trying to shove food in his face. Yes, Julieta's cooking was wonderful but he wasn't in the mood. He did start to feel a little guilty though when he noticed Julieta looking at him. He didn't mean to offend her or her wonderful gift.

"I'll try some later. I already ate." He lied when she caught him rejecting some new confectionary of her's. Perhaps a little more aggressively than would have been acceptable in public. He really needed to better restrain himself. Jacqueline glared at him over the blatant lie but said nothing. Tearing a bite from the treat he'd rejected and chewed it loudly and open-mouthed next to his face.

"Mujer if you don't get out of my face right now juro por Dios…" He growled softly through a grit-toothed false smile.

"¡Hola Brunito!" Jacqueline called out suddenly. She waved her hand in the air before scooting aside and gesturing to the seat between them.

Wilfredo was a bit surprised by the wide smile on Bruno's face when he looked up. He looked so happy to see them. It warmed his chest and made him feel a little ashamed. Camilo offered to set up the stage so Bruno could talk to them. Bruno seemed a little flustered but did come over to sit beside him. He was sitting so close. Looking precious and colorful in the bright sunlight.

"You seem to be in a good mood today." Jacqueline teased as she elbowed their friend in the rib.

"Oh, sí bueno. It's a nice day." He stammered awkwardly.

"Mi hermano's been working himself to the bone lately. He barely slept last night. Still couldn't bring himself to skip your show." She teased. One of her toothy grins spread across her face. Wilfredo hated that grin. It always meant she was up to know good. It was the face she made before getting him into trouble.

Wilfredo shot Jacqueline a look. Letting her know she could stop talking now. She merely stuck her tongue out at him. He didn't have time to react before he had to mask his expression with a smile as Bruno turned to look at him.

"It's good to see you." Bruno said shyly. Pulling on his ruana which was filled with more rats than usual.

Wilfredo laughed and leaned to rest his elbow on the bar. "It's good to see you too."

The way Bruno smiled at Wilfredo was mesmerizing. He felt light, almost giddy. No, no. Bad. Don't.

"Eh, Jacqueline!" Elonzo's voice pulled him back to reality. One of his sister's friends. He was amazed at how quickly she was able to put that scuffle by the river behind them. Then again he'd seen Jacqueline shake off worse. At least Elonzo was generally friendly and seemed to take the whole affair about as seriously as she had. Which is to say not very.

"¿Qué onda?" She called back to him across the plaza.

"We're gonna go play cards at Andres's place you wanna come?"

Jacqueline turned to look back at Wilfredo. The nerve. He wasn't a child. He didn't need her to watch him.

"No desperdicias por mi culpa." He replied evenly. "Go have fun con tus amigos. I'll be fine."

Jacqueline rolled her eyes and hopped down from the bar stool. "Whatever you say hermano." She looked at Bruno with a wink and a nudge. "Look after mi tonto will you?"

Bruno snorted. Stifling a laugh. "Cómo no?" He replied.

Jacqueline smiled at the two of them with her hands on her hips. Looking at the both of them like an artist admiring her handiwork. Wilfredo had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. She gave them both a self-satisfied nod of approval then ran off to play with her latest boy toys. Wilfredo did his best to restrain his irritation. He knew what she was doing. He didn't operate like she did. He could go three months without his usual cravings... Tempting as they were... He would never satisfy them with someone like Bruno.

"What was that about?" Bruno asked.

Wilfredo looked back at him and did his best not to rush his response. "Oh, nothing. She's just playing games again. I wouldn't think too hard about it. She'll give you a headache trying to make sense of her."

Bruno laughed. "I noticed." He looked down. His hands fidgeting aggressively. "I uh, I didn't think you'd show up today."

Wilfredo saw the shame creeping into Bruno's features and felt guilt tie his stomach in knots. "Eres mi amigo. Why wouldn't I come? I've not missed a show yet."

"Oh." Bruno looked back up at him. His eyes were so big and bright. So pure and good-hearted. Pleading hope that Wilfredo could drown in. "I uh, you're not mad?" Bruno looked down to fidget again. "About yesterday I mean…"

"Why would I be mad?" Wilfredo replied with a warm smile.

Shut up Bruno. Just shut up. Don't remind me. He almost lost himself for a moment in Bruno's sincerity. No. It was for the better Bruno reminded him. Wilfredo needed the wake up call. Needed to be reminded why he had to maintain a comfortable distance with the man. He wasn't good enough for someone like Bruno. He never would be. Even if he was, it was never meant to be.

Wilfredo turned away from Bruno towards the square. Shifting more of his weight onto the counter. "What happened wasn't your doing. Besides, everything worked out in the end, sí?"

"Sí. I guess it did, huh?" Bruno didn't seem confident in his reply.

Good. He was the one who thought it best to leave Wilfredo in the dark. Bruno could have warned him. No. No. Drop it. It wasn't Bruno's fault, this was Wilfredo's fault. He needed to keep the blame where it belonged. He glanced back at Bruno who was muttering something to one of his rats. He seemed so sweet, so good, and kind. He couldn't blame Bruno.

"Sí, sí, I know, Carlos it's just pretend." Bruno muttered to the irritable rat.

Wilfredo had begun to recognize some of Bruno's rats. There were three that seemed to accompany him regularly. Carlos being one of them. He was especially fond of nesting in Bruno's hair. An unfamiliar rat climbed onto Bruno's shoulder, younger and larger than Carlos. The young male puffed up its fur and reared up on his hind legs. Sizing up Carlos who was seated in Bruno's hands.

"¡Basta ya!" Bruno scolded.

His lecturing fell on deaf ears however as Carlos lunged at the young buck. Bruno let out a pained shriek as the two males ripped across his body in a frenzied scuffle sending other rats scurrying to the ground to escape the fight. Wilfredo jumped and impulsively darted forward to try and grab one of the disobedient rodents. Not paying attention to which one he was grabbing he snatched up the younger male and managed to hold it out away from Bruno's body.

"¡Te atrapé!" He snapped at the wriggling creature in his hands. The buck stopped squirming a moment to make eye contact before biting down hard on the webbing between his thumb and forefinger.

Wilfredo dropped the rat and held his breath as he stifled a pained shout.

"¡Ay! Lo siento! Lo siento!" Bruno looked down at the buck who'd landed on the cobblestone unharmed. "Sergio what have I said about biting people!" He scolded.

The rat looked unimpressed with Bruno's lecturing.

The bite stung worse than Wilfredo would have expected. He generally had a high pain tolerance but the sudden jolt to his groggy senses had caught him off guard. Bruno's rats were usually very well-behaved. Wilfredo had handled them a few times now. This was a first. The pain only held his attention briefly, however. He suddenly became very aware of himself. He was leaning on top of Bruno now. His arms wrapped around him. Hands still extended past the man's body.

He could feel Bruno's slender frame against his chest. He prayed to god his racing heart was not as noticeable as it felt.

"Lo siento mucho." Bruno cooed as he reached out and took Wilfredo's injured hand in his. "You're hurt."

Bruno had turned so now his back was pressed against Wilfredo's torso as he inspected the wound. Wilfredo wanted to pull away so badly but was determined to maintain his calm demeanor and not make a scene. Or at least not more of a scene than they already had. He could feel eyes on them and was trying his best not to panic. If he panicked now it would look suspicious. Just act natural.

"Julieta!" Bruno called out to his sister but Wilfredo stopped him.

"Oh no, no pasa nada." He insisted. He tried to lean away from Bruno gently and pull his hand back. "It's not that bad. I'd hate to waste tu hermana's wonderful gift."

Bruno looked sad when he turned to face Wilfredo again. He looked back down at the injured hand Wilfredo had retrieved then back up to his face. Wilfredo hatted seeing the concern and disappointment on the man's gentle features. He was an older man but he had such soft, kind, eyes. They were ripping him to pieces. It wasn't fair.

"Are you sure? It's really no trouble, I mean really, she makes a lot of food."

"Estoy bien." Wilfredo smiled calmly. "Just let me take care of it the old-fashioned way, de acuerdo?"

Bruno replied with a little uncertain pout that hurt to look at. His mind was screaming at him to stop doing that. Stop being adorable and sweet. Hopelessly begging this man to stop existing so tantalizingly close to him. Bruno was a man best consumed at a distance and in small doses. Today Wilfredo's mind was blurry and he wasn't prepared for this.

Instead, he let a slight chuckle escape him before asking. "So what was that about?"

He looked down to examine his hand. The bite was a bit worse than he thought. Blood was pooling in his hands. He pulled his hand up to his mouth to contain it. It wasn't the most sanitary response but he knew saliva had a coagulant effect and would make do with what he had on him for now. He didn't want to run home to tend to it right away. He didn't want it to seem as bad as it was.

"Oh, tonterías? Carlos is mad I cast Sergio to play Juantia's love interest today. I keep trying to explain to him it's just a story. He's too old for the role." Bruno explained.

Wilfredo pulled his hand from his mouth to offer a sympathetic smile before searching his pockets for his handkerchief. "Is that all? Bit of a jealous type isn't he?"

"You're telling me. It doesn't help that Beatrice's boys are pequeños brutos. I've been training them but they're still not the best with other people. I don't let los niños handle them usually."

Bruno eyed him cautiously as Wilfredo tied his handkerchief around his wounded hand. It still had some blood stains from Bruno's fight by the river that didn't come out with a simple wash. He'd have to take some cornstarch to it later.

"I guess that was my mistake then." Wilfredo chuckled. Ignoring the pain and tucking his injured hand out of sight.

"Stage is ready, hurry up, our leading lady is getting impatient!" Camilo called out to Bruno.

"Voy, voy." Bruno scurried off to the stage with his performers following behind.

Wilfredo noticed Carlos had made it to the stage where he seemed to be trying to sweet talk his wife. She was having none of him at the moment. Antonio might have been the only person who could speak to the rats directly but anyone who spent enough time around them could learn their mannerisms. They had quite a lot of personality, the little creatures. He could see why Bruno loved them. Even if one of them had just torn a chunk out of his hand.

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

The tablas were interesting that day. Wilfredo struggled to steady his journal in his lap with his injured hand. He refused turn to write on the counter. He wanted to keep his eyes on the stage. He'd been writing so much and for so long he could write clearly while barely glancing at the page. Just so long as he was positioned comfortably. He had calluses on his right hand and could write in a moving vehicle or half asleep. He was too tired and frustrated today to be bothered to write sideways.

Juanita played the role of a barren widow pining for a younger man. A librarian from a well-to-do family expected to carry on their legacy. Bruno was right, Carlos was too old to play the romantic lead this time around. Juanita of course carried herself with so much confidence and grace. It was clear the new rat Sergio was still learning the trade.

Wilfredo had long since had a habit of saving stories in his own personal collection. Stories that felt familiar to him. Stories that made him feel a little less alone. He'd never once loved someone who was properly right for him. He didn't know how to love a woman the way he knew he should. His experiences with other men over the years had mostly been fleeting and bestial in nature. He'd been the cathartic release of married men before. A friend to others who were broken like he was. At best he was what some perverse men settled for because he was available and lacked the self-respect to demand better. It wasn't always bad, but it was never love. He didn't need love. Didn't want it.

"Sergio, Olvídame. Te suplico. Te mereces el mundo y no tengo nada que darte."

"Date a mí, todo lo que eres. No necesito nada más. Tal como eres, eres suficiente."

He did sincerely enjoy Bruno's writing. The tablas were comedies at the end of the day. Written for children. Moments of sincere drama were usually comedically undercut. Still, there was a heart to his work that was so charming. In his world love was abundant. Love could move mountains, overcome any obstacle.

As long as it was between a man and a woman that is.

It was a wonderful fantasy. Even if it still excluded him. It was still nice to imagine that kind of love. He did wonder how such a hopeless romantic could still be unmarried after all these years. Perhaps his standards were simply too high. Perhaps the town's scorn was simply too steep an obstacle for people. Perhaps… Jacqueline was convinced he was but Wilfredo didn't want to believe it. He couldn't afford to get his hopes up. To think that there was even a chance. If Bruno was anything like himself... That was a heartbreak he knew he wouldn't be able to recover from. No, it was far easier, far safer, to simply enjoy this beautiful man for as long as he could. Save his lovely stories. Hold onto this memory as he moved on like he always did.

The play wrapped up. Wilfredo finally turned to the bar to scribble down his closing thoughts on a more stable surface. He heard an unexpected voice.

"Bruno, have you seen Dolores?"

It was Señora Madrigal. The town's matriarch. Bruno's stern mother. The play was already over. She never came to watch Bruno's performances. Perhaps that was for the better. He wasn't certain they'd be to her taste. It was telling, however. No, she was here for something else.

Wilfredo could help but turn his head slightly to watch them from the corner of his eye. He still needed to talk to Señora Madrigal about expanding the library. Today wasn't a great day to challenge himself with this woman. There was still a chance she had yet to hear about yesterday's incident. He would have better odds if he talked to her before she found out. It would be a chance to get at least one useful thing done today. To not feel like a complete waste of air. He'd have to wait and see if there was a fair opportunity to be gleaned here. Approaching her at the wrong time would be to his detriment.

"Sí, mamá? I mean no, I haven't seen her." Bruno fumbled. Jumping to his feet at the sound of his mother's voice. He had been sitting on the ground deconstructing the stage. He was always so quick to react to her.

"I haven't seen her all day." The matriarch seemed concerned. Wilfredo wasn't sure if she was worried about her granddaughter's safety or if this was about something else.

"Why would I know where she is?"

Wilfredo couldn't see Señora Madrigal's face clearly from this angle but noticed her head tilt slightly to the side. Bruno's face fell and he gave an irritated reply.

"No, I haven't seen her." He replied flatly.

It made him wonder how accustomed the Madrigal mother was to Bruno's powers for day-to-day affairs. From what he'd learned about her she was very keen on efficacy and hard work. A sentiment he could respect at least. Even if she did seem cold. Then again, she was mostly cold to him. She seemed much softer when she spoke to her family, her neighbors. Wilfredo was still a stranger to her and her respect was something he would have to earn. He'd been trying. Weekly chats with her after Sunday mass had been helping. She was beginning to soften up to him. It was worth swallowing his pride to see results.

"She's probably with Mariano somewhere." Camilo gripped as he finished deconstructing the set.

"That's what I said." Mirabel added before returning to look over the documents on her clipboard.

"It's not like her to disappear." The anxious grandmother replied.

"Relax Ma. Let the girl have her fun." Bruno insisted with an awkward pat on his mother's shoulder. Returning to the set to help undress the furry actors.

Señora Madrigal was worried and the rest of the family seemed dismissive. A woman like her seemed so accustomed to running a tight ship. Was that just how she ran the town? No Bruno made it seem like she was very much the same way at home. He did say things had changed at home recently, though he didn't go into much detail. Perhaps Mirabel's training on the council had something to do with it. Whatever the reason it seemed to him that the matriarch's authority in the family might be less stable than once it was.

Perhaps he could use this.

"Perdón, Señora Madrigal." He lifted a finger to get her attention. He tucked his notebook into his back pocket.

The older woman turned to look at him. Clearly, she hadn't noticed he was there.

"Señor Fontana, is there something I can help you with?" She replied calmly. He could see a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth that made it clear to him she wasn't in the mood to be hassled.

"Sí y no, actually I was going to offer to look for Dolores for you." He offered as he approached her.

"Wherever she is she knows you're looking for Ma there's no way she doesn't. Just leave her alone. she'll be home for dinner I'm sure." Bruno insisted. Struggling a moment to lift the crate of supplies to his chest.

Wilfredo looked back at Bruno. He shot him an annoyed glance before turning to leave with Camilo. Frustrated to see Wilfredo indulging his mother no doubt. Pleasing the matriarch often meant frustrating Bruno it seemed. It couldn't be helped. He'd just have to be careful balancing the two.

"He's right. I worry too much." Señora Madrigal sighed.

"One can't blame una madre for worrying." Wilfredo soothed with a smile. He kept his features soft and sympathetic. Not that he was lying per se. There were some things he admired about the Madrigal woman. Her concern for her family and her community was endearing if a bit excessive. "I'm sure she's fine wherever she is. Probably just distracted. You know how young lovers are." He carefully reassured. "Dolores seems like a clever girl. I'm sure the only place she's getting lost is that boy's eyes."

"Sí, sí, tienes razón." The old woman laughed. He had yet to get such a warm laugh out of her before. She must have been having a rough day. She just needed someone to treat her concerns with some respect.

"If you do see her make sure she makes it home on time, will you?" She asked him with a friendly smile. She looked tired.

"Claro. I was probably going to go for a stroll this evening anyway." He lied. He knew it wasn't necessary but he would look for Dolores anyway. He could earn some of the matriarch's trust by relaying the message. Even if it was a largely pointless endevor otherwise.

A sudden awkward shuffling sound caught both of their attention. Turning in unison to see Bruno trip over the pavement and nearly fall on his face. Just like that night at the festival, he managed to catch himself without incident. He must trip often.

"Oh, uh, I was just…" He gestured with his eyes down to a scrap of fabric on the ground. "I uh, I dropped something."

They both watched in silence as he snatched up the glittery pink dress. He gave Wilfredo an awkward little wave goodbye which Wilfredo returned in kind.

"Bye." He announced before scurrying off.

Bruno was an odd fellow for sure. Something was going through his mind. Wilfredo had no clue what, but something.

"Señor Fontana? You said there was something you needed?" Señora Madrigal's voice pulled his attention away from Bruno's retreating form.

"Not something I need, en sí, sino más bien something I think your town could benefit from." He explained.

"Ah, sí?" She looked a bit skeptical. Like this outsider was about to try and tell her how to run her town. He'd have to choose his words carefully.

"I wanted to propose an expansion to the library." He told her. "I think the story hour has been rather successful at improving reading comprehension. It would be easier to maintain long term if you didn't have such a limited selection of children's material." He kept his language humble. Avoided using definitive language or exploiting his expertise. Humility would get him farther here.

The matriarch thought for a moment. "Señora Delgado has been singing your praises." She replied.

Wilfredo smiled. A bit too wide. He quickly corrected his face. It was good to know he was being spoken of positively. A relief to say the least.

"It's nice to see Bruno more involved in the community. If you think more books would encourage him to keep it going after you're gone then I suppose we can look into it." She replied slowly and thoughtfully. Adjusting her shawl slightly she turned to Mirabel. The girl wsa completely lost in whatever documents she was looking over. "Mirabel."

"Hm!" Mirabel looked up from the pages. Pen still hanging from her lips. She pulled it down and straightened the paperwork before replying. "Sí Abuela?"

"Could you write down a reminder to discuss budgeting for new books at the next council meeting?" She asked sweetly.

"Sí Abuela." Mirabel replied before seeking out the appropriate page on her clipboard and dutifully taking notes.

Wilfredo had to stifle a chuckle. Watching her sort through all the information she now carried with her. He might consider offering her some advice on organizing her documents in the future. Not now. He didn't want to undermine her skill in front of her grandmother. Someday soon. When Señora Madrigal wasn't around.

"Gracias Señora Madrigal." He was genuinely pleased with himself. This had gone better than he had expected.

"You can call me Alma if you like." She replied.

"Gracias Alma."

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

He let Jacqueline stall him. He should have gotten the surveys done right away, but no. He overslept then wasted time on the Saturday tablas. Wasted… logically that's what it was. A waste of his time. He had a crisis to fix. The tablas weren't a productive use of his time.

They made him happy. Bruno made him happy…

The brief respite from his anxiety hadn't lasted long. He the gnawing pit in his gut was already threatening to swallow him up again by the time he got home from the tables. He almost felt guilty for just how easily Bruno had soothed him. It had only been for a short time but he let himself relax. He let himself be happy. He hadn't earned joy. Not yet. Not at the time. Not when he had yet to fix his mistake. He shouldn't have allowed himself such distractions. At least he got Alma to consider expansions to the library. There was one small victory amongst his failure. His day hadn't been a complete waste.

︵‿୨ - January 28 1951 - ୧‿︵

Church Sunday morning had been an impatient affair. Mostly just itching to conduct his surveys. He kept warm and friendly nonetheless. He was really just there to be there. He could care less about anything that was said. He wasn't particularly religious. He just liked watching the community bond and laugh. Support one another. It was a comfortable scene even if he wasn't ever really a part of it. He never would be. He was just a voyeur basking in the glow of other people's companionship. That's all he ever would be.

No community would have him if they ever knew the sort of person he truly was.

That was fine. He was fine. He was content living this way. Always just on the edge of something intimate. A safe distance from the fire where he could warm himself without getting burned.

Once mass had ended he started passing out his questionnaires to the parents who were present. Knocking out a few families in one go. Of course, the group conversation that ensued ran longer than he intended. It couldn't have been helped. He had to make sure every person felt heard. Felt appreciated and attended to. He couldn't excuse himself too early and leave someone wanting. Even if the conversation kept veering off onto unintended tangents.

Thankfully one little silver lining had caught his attention through the banal chatter. La familia Bolívar was visiting their relatives in Villavicencio. It was an impulsive decision but Wilfredo needed to let off some steam and the timing was convenient. He'd sworn to himself he would abstain for the duration of their stay but the stress was eating him alive. Even doing everything he could to compensate for his failure. To prevent such a thing from every happening again. It didn't matter He needed to reset. They were leaving on Tuesday. He could finish conducting his surveys today. Check on Cecelia tomorrow during the Monday story hour. Apologize to the poor girl and leave by Tuesday afternoon. He'd be back before noon on Wednesday so he'd be home in time for the next story hour.

︵‿୨ - January 30 1951 - ୧‿︵

After a noisy wagon ride with five excitable children, here he was sitting at a little bar in a sketchy part of town. He'd been here plenty of times before. He knew the regular patrons. The bartender Esperanza poured him a drink for cheap. Happy to see him still around.

"I'm just glad you're still in one piece. I heard you got shot."

Wilfredo only replied with a dry chuckle. "Rumores bastante escandalosos." He dismissed as he downed his rum. They had been shot at. That much was true. Jacqueline really had decided to piss off the wrong woman. "We're still moving to Cali but there were some complications so we're staying in a little town about an hour away." He told her. "Just for the next couple months."

"Qué lástima." She crooned. Setting about cleaning off the bar. "We're going to miss you around here. You really bring some class to this place."

Wilfredo only laughed again and ran his fingers through his hair. "You flater me señora." Truthfully though he didn't really care. He'd heard such things too many times at this point to care.

No one ever actually missed him. Not really. He was never close enough with any one person anywhere he lived to ever be truly missed. He had friends here in this bar. Esperanza was a good woman. They'd known each other for two years or so. She knew him mostly for his appetites. She knew most of the patrons the same way. She wouldn't miss him.

Bruno wouldn't miss him…

He wasn't sure why his mind kept wandering to the strange prophet. Kept wandering to the tender warmth he felt around him. He couldn't seem to help himself. He liked Bruno. Bruno had cheered him up the day before. Made him happy. Wilfredo didn't need to be happy right now. He hadn't earned happy. He needed to be calm. What he needed was a break from the noise. From the nagging voice reminding him what a worthless failure he was.

Bruno would never love him. Not if he knew what he was actually like. He liked the mask. The face Wilfredo put on to make himself palatable to the rest of the world.

"Mas, por favor." He requested. Raising his empty glass.

Esperanza turned from serving another patron and offered him a sympathetic smile. "Mal día?"

Wilfredo sighed as she got him another drink. "It's been rough since the move." He admitted.

The barmaid pursed her lips. She passed him his drink and seemed to be considering something. He took another sip before her booming voice called to someone across the bar.

"Eh, Fabian! Ven aquí hermoso."

Wilfredo turned to see a man who looked to be in his late twenties. He looked attractive enough. Slicked back dark hair. Slim. Not like that really mattered much. Wilfredo wasn't terribly picky. Especially not on a night like this. He just wanted someone who could settle his nerves and he didn't care what they looked like.

Fabian took a seat next to him. His face shifted slightly out of focus as he left Wilfredo's field of clear vision. He'd tucked his glasses into the pocket of his leather jacket. He didn't need them tonight. He felt they clashed with the aesthetic of a community like this one.

"Eh, chico you said wanted someone to practice on?" Esperanza nodded to Wilfredo. "Es fuerte. Don't go too easy on him." She told him with a wink before leaving the two of them to their own devices.

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

Wilfredo made some effort to banter. He'd flirt and preen. Flash a dashing smile and lean against the bar. Always turned towards his new acquaintance. It was mostly performance though. He'd gotten so good over the years at idol small talk he barely had to pay attention to the conversation. Only paying some mind to how he presented himself physically.

He wasn't very fond of his body. Despite that, he found that plenty of other men were as long as he carried himself well. Confident posture and the right outfit. Sitting in ways that drew attention to the parts of him he knew other men liked. His ass and thighs seemed popular features. He wore a brown leather jacket with fur lining. A memento of a past conquest. His green cuban shirt was left open enough to expose a bit of his chest. He didn't have much in the way of body hair and he knew it. Just thin pale fluff that blended into his skin. That said he'd found more dominant, aggressive, men seemed fans of his smooth skin. Considering they were often his target demographic it didn't hurt to advertise such traits.

He let Jacqueline know he wouldn't be home till morning. He asked her to feed Robledo for him. He wondered if she'd remembered. Not that Robledo couldn't feed himself but it was a nice courtesy to their landlord. Jacqueline seemed pleased to hear he'd be going out tonight. She understood. She always did. She was supportive. She supported his bad habits…

He knew they talked. Something about their day jobs and hobbies though it was mostly thinly veiled flirting. Advertising his interests. Fabian kept leaning in too close to make out his face clearly. Wilfredo didn't care much. He only looked at the man's face as much as he had to. The rest of the time his eyes wandered over the stranger's body. A black leather jacket with blue jeans that had been rolled into cuffs over black leather boots. The thick belt he wore was really what caught Wilfredo's eye. He kept staring at it. Mesmerized by the way the silver buckle glinted in the light.

"See something you like?" Fabian teased.

Wilfredo's eyes flicked back up to the man's face. He paused before replying with a sly grin. "A lo mejor. Just wondering how much it would cost me to get a good look at that belt." He challenged.

He watched the other man turn red and slip out of focus. Leaning in close to whisper in Wilfredo's ear. "Quieres conocerme en la parte de atrás y averiguar." He proposed so sweetly. Hot breath grazing his skin. His voice was like a raw shot of adrenaline.

Now, this was what Wilfredo was looking for.

"Señor I feared you'd never ask." He taunted.

Wilfredo felt a hand slide up his shoulder. Probing fingers lacing themselves through the hair at the nape of his neck. Gentle at first before gripping tight. Sending a light little burn through his scalp. "Hazme saber si soy demasiado para ti." The man warned.

Wilfredo chuckled. How adorable. "No serás." He assured confidently.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

The seconds that followed were a blur. It took no time at all for him to be on his knees in the alley behind the bar. An obscure dark corner of the city that wreaked of sex and alcohol. Faint sounds of the city's nightlife buried under the man's pleasured breathing. Bucking his cock down Wilfredo's throat. A bit on the smaller side. A bit salty. He was easy to please. Wilfredo didn't need to do much. A well-timed glance or moan was more than enough to drive this man wild. Rewarding him with another sharp tug to his hair. The rush of pain slowly melted into a bleary stupor. This was nice, relaxing… He needed this.

"Buena puta, tan bueno… Te encanta mi pija, es así?"

He liked to talk. Wilfredo was just glad he didn't have to say anything. He didn't feel like talking tonight. He just sat back and let this stranger use him. He didn't mind being insulted and degraded. He knew it was true. He knew what he was. It was routine at this point. When life was getting too much. When Wilfredo was drained and just needed a moment to forget what he was. He was a selfish, lazy, impatient, perverse creature. Something ugly he tried very hard to cover up with pretty words and a charming smile. The act was a struggle. It was so exhausting, day in and day out. Always pretending to be something he wasn't so he could earn the right to exist on the edge of society. To sit just close enough to the warmth of community not to freeze.

Not here. Here there was no pretense. He could just be what he was and that was enough. It was shameful and wrong, but he was enough…

Wilfredo's pound of flesh for evening ripped his hair by the roots. He forced himself down Wilfredo's throat as far as he could go. Pumping hot seed into him. Wilfredo hummed drowsily around his pulsing and swallowed every drop. Tame and obedient. Well trained from years of experience.

He was rewarded with soft gentle pets.

"Esa es mi buena puta." The man purred.

Wilfredo wasn't his. It was almost comical the way some men spoke to him. Like he belonged to them. He didn't belong to anyone. He was using this man just as much as he was being used. No need for romantics. They would part ways after this and Wilfredo would barely give him a second thought by morning. He gasped for air once the man pulled away. Slumping forward and feeling the drool run down his chin.

The stranger put his dick away and knelt down in front of him. Tilting up Wilfredo's chin to meet the his eyes. "Listo para su recompensa mi zorra del dolor?" The question was sickly sweet in its delivery. Delectable ambrosia dripping from foreign lips.

"Sí, señor. Por favor, arruinarme…" Wilfredo breathed. Almost ritual at this point. He knew how to talk to people. How to get what he wanted from someone. He wasn't keen on having some man a decade his junior hold back on him tonight. He made that very clear in the weight of his voice.

The younger man ripped him up to his feet by his hair and slammed him back against the wall. Wilfredo was taller than him. He knew instinctively he was stronger. This stranger was pretty but he was a boy. If Wilfredo felt so inclined he'd be more than capable of taking control of the situation. He didn't want to. He enjoyed being pushed around and bullied. The pain was exhilarating. The abuse felt earned. Comfortingly familiar.

He stood there pressed up against the cold grimy brick. Watching his sever for the evening remove that thick leather belt that had caught his eyes.

"Saca tu fondillo." The man barked with a morbid chuckle.

Wilfredo did as he was told. Turning around to drop his trousers. Leaning up against the wall. Presenting himself. Combing his fingers through his hair. Preening as he waited.

"Es hermosa..." The man praised as he ran his hand over Wilfredo's ass. Pinching and squeezing. Admiring the view. "Lástima va a estar lleno de moretones cuando termine."

Wilfredo didn't care. He didn't need this man wasting his time on flattery. He wanted his fix and nothing more.

The first strike was invigorating. No warning. Just a violent lash that echoed through the alley and made him gasp. The searing pain drove him light-headed and dizzy.

A relieved sigh escaped him like a ghost. Another strike. Another. His body felt weightless. The pain melted into a twisted pleasure he craved. Every worry or fear left him. He couldn't think, only feel. Just floating in his own little ocean of bliss as the world around him melted away. This was what he'd been looking for. This moment of pure empty-headed bliss. He couldn't remember now why he wanted it. What he was running from. Didn't matter. Nothing mattered. This was calming. This was nice…

He counted each strike out loud. "Uno, dos, tres…" He'd forgotten that he'd never actually been asked to do so. It was simply a habit. One he currently lacked the mental faculties to question. Not like he'd give it much thought when he was sober either. He really didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to dwell too hard on what these impulses had to say about him.

Twelve strikes. That seemed to be the point where his ephemeral partner was satisfied. He couldn't remember the man's name right now. He couldn't possibly care less. He felt brutish thumbs probing split and bloody bruises. Admiring their handiwork. Eliciting a soft moan Wilfredo guessed was coming from himself.

He would feel the weight in his eyes. A dampness ran down his cheeks that felt ice cold from the slight breeze against the burning heat in his face.

God this felt so good. Losing himself like this.

His legs were threatening to give out from under him but he didn't care. He held his place. Supporting his weight against the wall. The hand was gone for a moment before returning wet and slimy. Slipping past his tender flesh to press into him. Another slick hand wrapped itself around his cock.

"Esa es mi buena puta. Te gusta eso, no?" A voice breathed in his ear. Another body pressed up against his back. It barely registered as a person. Just weight and heat and the intense pleasure as disembodied hands stroked his sensitive body.

Wilfredo was left trembling and moaning. His face pressed against the cold brick. Shallow slow breaths. Sharp pain lancing through his abused rear. He could faintly make out a drop of blood creeping down his leg. It burned against his skin. Pain contrasted against the gentle pleasure of his massaged insides. The building pressure in his cock.

He shuttered and gasped when the pressure released. The satisfaction of hot cum pulsing through him. Of being emptied onto the pavement.

More praises he barely registered. It was white noise to him at this point. His pants were pulled back up over his hips. The fabric felt like sandpaper on his skin but the pain was blurry and muted. Foreign lips pressed against his temple. More words. A question this time.

"Necesitas ayuda?"

"No señor."

"Estás seguro? I don't mind taking care of you."

Wilfredo shook his head. It was a struggle to form complex thoughts right now. With some great effort and focus he managed to choke out a sentence.

"Déjame. Estaré bien."

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

He didn't know how much time passed like that. Slumped down on the ground. His back to the wall. Blood and cum staining his clothes. Waiting out the harsh chill that seeped into his bones. Curling in on himself and burring tears in his coat. He wasn't sad. Not really. He was just cold and empty. This part was never fun but the tears were misleading. He wasn't sad. Just relieved. His mind was clearer than it had been in days. He felt better, despite his pathetic state.

The backdoor creaked open. Flooding the dark alley with warm yellow light. Esperanza stepped out to offer him a glass of water which he took without protest. She knelt down beside him.

"Are you gonna be able to get home on your own?" She asked him. Brushing his hair from his face.

Home… He couldn't go home. He didn't have a home to go to. He had a room where he was staying in an isolated small town in the mountains. He had an elderly landlord who liked him well enough. He had a friend who he missed... Who wouldn't miss him... He didn't have a home…

He took a few small sips from his glass. "My ride leaves in the morning." He replied softly. He looked up at her and attempted a charming smile. Tired, friendly, and soft. "I don't suppose you'd let me stay here tonight?" He pleaded sweetly.

Esperanza sighed and returned to her feet. Brushing the dirt off her skirt.

"You knew I would." She accused.

Wilfredo let out a broken little chuckle. "Just for tonight. I won't be bothering you again. Lo prometo."

He wouldn't be coming back here again. This wasn't the last time. Just the last time in this place. With these people. He'd find a new rock to hide under in Cali.