Bruno crouched and smiled at the rat sniffing the piece of arepa. He broke off another chunk, and his door swung open. He jumped and the rat scurried away.
A dark cloud hovered over Pepa's head, and she slammed the door shut. "I need to–" The rat flew past her and she scrunched up her face. "Again with the rats?"
Bruno stuffed the arepa into his pocket. "Um, yes?"
Was it that weird?
"Why do you like them so much? They're gross."
"They're not hurting anyone, and they're kinda cute, once you really look at them. And it isn't fair that so many people…" Pepa's stare made his voice falter.
"Never mind," He murmured.
Maybe it didn't make sense, but he just didn't understand why they were always seen as a problem. They really were harmless, as long as you respected them.
"Bruno, do you like your gift?" The cloud rumbled, and Bruno started, but Pepa rushed on. "I know Mami always says we should be grateful for the miracle, and that it's a blessing we can help so many people, but I… I just… I hate it sometimes!" Rain splattered onto her clothes and the wind threw sand into Bruno's face.
"Pepa? Are you–"
She groaned. "See? I can't control it no matter what I do, then I'll mess something up, and that upsets Mami–Julieta never makes her upset. Why did she get to have the perfect gift?"
"Pepa." Bruno dipped under the cloud and touched her shoulder, but she stared at the growing cloud, clutching her braid.
"I can't think like that, I know. I should be happy. But this gift doesn't even feel like one most of the time and–"
"Pepa!"
She blinked, her mouth open.
"Sorry! I'm sorry. But you were getting so anxious, and, well, I know what you're feeling. I… don't really like my gift either."
"But you can see the future. That's better than having a stupid cloud raining over your head all the time."
"Sometimes people don't like what I tell them, and they–well, they…" Bruno looked down and shrugged.
"They what?"
Bruno's voice dropped to a whisper. "They get angry."
So, so angry.
A few months before, Mami had brought a young, haggard woman into his room.
"Please," she begged. "Mi mama–she is so sick, we have tried everything, and I don't know… if she doesn't… tell me she will live."
Bruno's heartbeat quickened. But he couldn't guarantee that! He couldn't control it–Dios mío, and if he saw that her mother didn't survive? What would he say?
He glanced at Mami, his eyes wide, and slightly shook his head, but she frowned.
"Of course he will."
She ushered the woman through the sand pouring from the hourglass doorway. Bruno swallowed and followed them. What could he do? He couldn't–wouldn't–disobey Mami, but he saw something she didn't want to hear…
They hurried up the short flight of stairs and into the large, empty cave. Hands shaking, Bruno took out a match and lit the piles of leaves in the middle. The cave darkened, the wind picked up, and his eyes glowed green. Sand speckled with green flew into the air and whirled around him. Please let her mother be alright. Please.
Through the particles he could see–the woman crying over a casket. He gasped and jerked back. The sand swooped to the ground. A glowing vision tablet lay in front of him, and he backed away. He knew this would happen, he knew it.
"What is it?" The woman snatched it up. "What does it say–NO!"
At that shriek, Mami rushed to her side.
"He's lying, tell me he's lying! Alma, please!" She swung around and threw the vision against the wall. "How could you do this?"
The vision shattered, and Bruno recoiled.
"What?"
"You were supposed to tell me she would live!"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for it to happen like that. I didn't make the vision!"
"Julieta is already on her way. Everything will be fine. Cálmate, mija, cálmate."
Mami pulled the woman out of the cave and glanced at Bruno. Her lips were tight, her face was pale, and her frown deepened once she glimpsed him.
A few days later, the woman had found them in the market, looking thinner and paler than before. And right there, in front of all the townspeople, she had screamed at him, blaming him for her mother's death and Julieta's failure.
Bruno had begged Casita to add more stairs to his room after that.
"People get mad at me because of my gift, too."
Bruno looked up. They did?
"I almost destroyed the classroom during math today." She paused. "I really hate math."
Bruno smiled a little. "Me too."
"But I mean, I really hate it. A lightning bolt struck señor Sanchez's desk."
A small laugh escaped him. "You struck his desk with lightning?"
"It's not funny! Mami was so mad!"
His smile widened. "It kind of is."
Pepa tried to scowl, but after a few moments, a grin brightened her face. "I thought so too! It felt good. Anyways, it's not like I would've hit him with it." Her smile faded. "But Mami didn't think it was funny. She said she's going to take me out of school."
"I'm sorry, Pepa. But we'll be together, right?"
After the incident, Mami had taken him out of school, too. He'd been getting too many looks, and señor Sanchez had outright refused to let him step into his class. So Mami had hired senorita Molina to come to Casita and teach him privately.
"Oh, yeah! Maybe it's not so bad. I won't have to see señor Sanchez again, and he won't have to see me again, so we'll both be happy."
They shared a laugh, and Pepa's cloud shrunk.
"Hey, Pepa, if you ever need to talk or be angry or whatever, you can come to my room. I don't really have anything in here, and I don't mind if you make it rain or, you know, strike lightning everywhere. Just not at me, please."
Pepa gazed at him for a moment. "Really?"
"Of course,"
She beamed and her cloud disappeared. "That would be amazing,"
Bruno smiled at her, and they spent the rest of the evening in his room, Pepa chattering, and Bruno listening. She didn't even make a face when the rats peeked out from their hiding places.
And she did come, sometimes multiple times a week. Even though the storms were a little chaotic, Bruno couldn't stop smiling afterward. He was finally helping his family.
