Author's notes:

1920s slang

Button man: hired killer

Blow one down: Kill someone

Chapter 20: Figuring Things Out

In the drawing room, Imelda, her brothers, the men, and the children sat down on a sofa while Natalia sat across from them in a chair.

Oscar and Felipe had offered their new guest some tea but she politely declined. She was too nervous to drink or eat anything.

The Irish-American lady explained about how the fiasco happened. It was a much longer story than the others expected.

When the blonde woman talked about the fight in the speakeasy, Miguel, Mirabel, Héctor and Bruno nearly jumped in their seats.

The shoemaker was concerned that the teenagers could have nearly gotten themselves hurt!

Miguel knew Abuelita would be upset if she knew Abel got into a fight.

Mirabel felt her heart racing when she learned that her sisters, especially Isabella had used their powers in public. She recalled her grandmother getting angry whenever her sisters and cousins accidentally used their powers outside of the home.

Bruno was not happy to hear that Isabella and Camillo used their powers out in the open, either. What if someone sees them? The idea of a certain aspiring actress spotting them and telling the police emphasized his fear.

"Cómo se enteró de los regalos de mis hijos?" he whispered to Héctor. "Dijiste algo?"

"No, tu madre nos lo dijo," Héctor whispered back.

"¡Mierda!" the man in green cursed and pounded his fist on the small coffee table. He cursed so loudly that everyone heard him.

Natalia stopped in the middle of her story and gasped.

"¡Oye, delante de Miguel y las mujeres no!" Héctor snapped at him, covering his nephew's ears.

Imelda scowled at Bruno as she covered Mirabel's ears. "De verdad Juan?" She understood his frustration but thought it was an overkill of him to pounce on the coffee table.

"Lo siento," Bruno blushed in embarrassment, nursing his fist. "Pero se suponía que nadie más sabía sobre el secreto de mi familia.

Excepto ustedes dos."

"Nosotros sabemos!" Oscar and Felipe piped up.

"Lo sé."

"Bruno, er, Juan, cómo supo el Tío Héctor de los regalos de tu familia?" Miguel inquired.

"Uh…what are you guys talking about?" Natalia said, awkwardly. She felt as if she were a penguin in a room of parrots. "I know Gaelic and English but I'm still learning Spanish."

"My apologies, Natalia," Bruno spoke, sheepishly. "Nobody else was supposed to know my family's secret.

The others blushed apologetically, almost forgetting about her.

"So, Miguel, I told your uncle when I was almost eleven years old. I had a vision that he was going to have a terrible accident after falling off the jungle gym. I ran and told him about it."

"I remembered thinking you were acting loco, at first," Héctor recalled. "Until you showed me the green slate."

"That's right!" Bruno nodded, smiling. "And then you saw my other green slates which tumbled out of my bag."

"You had an old vision of Berto breaking his finger from smashing his hammer which came true, unfortunately," Héctor commented. "I asked you if anyone else in your family can see visions too.

"I said no, but they have other gifts. Julieta could only heal people, Pepa can make weather, and Frida can make potions."

"That's when I decided to avoid the jungle gym for a week."

"Then I made you promise not to tell anyone else by doing our secret handshake."

"Oh, can you show us your secret handshake?" Miguel asked excitedly.

"Not until he tells me why he never came to my wedding!" The shoemaker frowned at him.

Bruno deflated like a balloon that just lost its air.

("Oo, ouch!" Felipe whispered to his twin who nodded).

"Um, Imelda," Mirabel began. She changed the subject quickly before the squall between the two men could turn into a storm. "How did you know about my family's gifts?"

"Your Tío told me," Imelda answered, chuckling a bit. "So much for being a family secret, Juan."

"Hey, it was only because I had a vision of you and me!" Bruno reminded her. "After I left the West Side because of…personal reasons, I walked through the East Side."

"Weren't you scared?" Miguel asked.

"I didn't care," Bruno scoffed. "I just had to get away from everybody I knew. When I received my vision, I was startled. I didn't want to follow it but I had no choice. It didn't show me any alternative outcome like my old ones did. So by instinct, I walked and came here. It wasn't easy finding the big black mansion but folks pointed me in the right direction. Once I found it, I knocked on the door, and that's when she answered it."

"At first, I didn't know who he was," Imelda said, continuing the story. "Thankfully, he wasn't the police. Next, I thought he was another suitor that my brothers were trying to throw at me."

"Oh heavens no!" Bruno shook his head. Not that he found Imelda repulsive, he just wasn't interested in her romantically. He preferred girls who were more outgoing than his boss. "Uh, no hard feelings, boss."

"No matter," Imelda shrugged. "I even threatened to hit him with my shoe if he didn't leave. But your uncle told me that he didn't want to arrest me or court me, but work for me because he had a vision about it. I thought he drank too much alcohol until he showed me his green slate. I took him inside and had him explain his gift to me."

"She called for us to come downstairs," Felipe added.

"That's correct, brother," Oscar said. "Imelda told us about this poor soul who was on the run-"

"Shush!" Felipe elbowed him quickly.

"Juan told us about himself, his family, and why he left. Afterward, I decided that he could stay," Imelda concluded the story.

"You took my old amigo in?" Héctor asked, in awe. "Oh, how kind of you!"

"I took him in because I wanted a button man," the gangster smirked. "Someone who can blow one down."

"WHAT!?"

"Relax amigo, she's joking," Bruno assured him. "I've never killed anyone and neither has she."

The shoemaker cooled down a bit, but he still glared at the gangster who only smiled innocently at him.

"Is that a fact, Princess de Mafia?"

"Of course, shoemaker! I only use Juan for my…' shopping' sprees."

"But Imelda, you don't shop for clothes," Mirabel pointed out. "You always complain about how badly they are designed."

"I'm talking about my trips to the bank and the grocery stores, mija," The gangster clarified. She quickly leaned in and whispered to the little girl the last part, "And to the fabric store."

"Hmph and I suppose you took a 'trip' to the carpenter's shop and the furniture store," Héctor huffed.

"All the furniture came from trucks," Juan smiled, waving his hands to refer to them.

"When the driver was looking the other way!"

"And when he couldn't hear what fell out!" Oscar chuckled.

"He never came back for them!" Felipe chortled.

The four crooks all broke out laughing as if they were sharing an inside joke.

"I don't get it," Natalia said.

"No comprendo," Miguel shrugged.

Héctor just frowned and crossed his arms. "Are they always like this Stephanie?"

"All the time!"

"Guys, as much as I like your crime stories, can we get back to my story?" Natalia asked nervously. "I didn't even finish it!"

"Oh of course!" Juan exclaimed. "Sorry, we got distracted. You were saying?"

"All I know is," Natalia proceeded. "After I got the potion, or so I thought, I left Gloria and the kids at the bar-"

"You left Gloria behind!?" The shoemaker exclaimed. "What were you thinking?"

"She said she'd take the kids home!" Natalia said. "They were sprayed by the love potion-"

"Oh, I knew it!" Mirabel sighed, feeling her heart sinking.

"Qué tragedia," the twins both murmured.

"Yes," the pre-teen girl replied, sadly. She looked down on her kneecaps.

"Still pretty funny!" Miguel giggled, still remembering their goofy smiles. "Tee hee hee!"

"They didn't go home," Héctor frowned. "Because they were prancing down the street like a bunch of hippos in tutus-shut up Miguel!" He said the last part to his nephew who giggled again at that memory.

The boy still laughed until his secret crush leaned in and glared daggers at him. He shrank back and bit and didn't move one bit. Much to his relief, she leaned back.

"But Natalia, I still don't understand one thing," Imelda inquired. "How did you end up grabbing the lemonade instead of the potion?"

The blonde flapper began recounting how Abel grabbed two bottles from the bar because neither he or the monkey could tell the difference. "…We picked which one based on which one felt warmer, and if I had the lemonade…," the woman trailed off. Her eyes widened. "Then that means she has the potion!"

"Natalia, what's the name of the bar?" Bruno asked.

"Massimo's," the flapper recalled. "I think. It's more of an underground speakeasy."

"An underground speakeasy!?" Héctor asked, appalled. Images of his sister being seduced by a man or dancing to shameful music ran through his mind. He loved music, he even used to play his guitar and sing songs he had written during his youth. He just had mixed feelings about jazz. On one hand, he admired jazz musicians like Louis Armstrong. On the other hand, his mother had discouraged it and called it "the devil's music." He bet this underground speakeasy is more likely the type of place that plays the "devil's music" rather than the fast-paced ones of Armstrong. His sister was in trouble.

"I don't know what to do," Natalia said.

"Juan, can Frida make an antidote?" Imelda asked.

"I don't know, Imelda. I still don't want to talk to her."

"Get over yourself!" The gangster rolled her eyes. "This is a very serious matter here and if we don't fix this love epidemic, who would?"

"We fixed it last time by having marriages!"

"Yes, but I don't want anyone to be married based on dishonesty."

"And I don't think Abel is allowed to marry both Isabella and Dolores," Miguel added.

"Por favor Juan," Mirabel beseeched. "Do it for Camillo and the girls."

"All right," Juan sighed. "We'll talk to Frida."

Everyone went to Juan's bedroom in which Frida was being held as a prisoner. She had been escorted back to that room by Bubo at some point earlier after Héctor had tried to leave for the first time. When Frida asked them to update her on the potion, Natalia felt that terrible dreaded feeling in the pit of her stomach. She tried to speak.

"I-I-I-I-"

'Oh for heaven's sake!' Imelda impatiently thought before pushing Natalia aside. "She didn't get it; she brought lemonade instead! And now we are requesting you to make an antidote."

"Make the antidote?" Frida questioned. She crossed her arms and stuck her nose up in the air. "Why should I, Imelda? I am locked up as a prisoner and now you expect me to help you?"

"Por favor Frida," Héctor beseeched her, getting down on his knees. "Andres is our friend! He is in trouble and so are my kids!"

"Kids!?"

"Sí," Juan scoffed, wondering when his sister would get smart. "His sobrino y sobrina have been love dusted. Mariano Guzman is also love-dusted. And do you know who else? Camillo and the girls!"

"Really?!"

"Duh, what are our sisters and their husbands going to say if they could see their offspring just now?" Knowing them, Bruno remembered how they would usually behave. Agustin would fall over from shock. Julieta would be heartbroken, that she would crumble down on the floor and shed tears. Although her food could heal people from anything from a skinned knee to a broken arm, it would not affect those who had been love-dusted. Felix would get so mad that he wouldn't talk, except for a few phrases like 'Boy, you must be out of your damn mind!' Depending on her emotional temperature, Pepa would become so angry that she would cause a literal storm, a blizzard, or a hurricane.

"Berto and Carmen are going to kill me!" Héctor groaned. He'll never hear the end of his eldest brother snapping at him. His sister-in-law would be crushed and not say a word at all.

Fear flashed through Frida's eyes. "I can think of something worse than that!"

"What could be worse than that?" Imelda asked.

"My mother," both Bruno and Héctor winced in dreaded voices. They both shivered at the idea of their mothers' angry faces.

"My Mamá would slap me with her shoe nonstop!"

"And I don't want to endure my Mother's wrath!"

"In that case, I will get the antidote ready!" Frida spoke, frightfully. "I don't want to endure my mother's wrath, either!"

"You should meet our father," Oscar said.

"Yeah, he's worse!" Felipe added. "Much worse than your mamas combined!"

"Don't want to take the chance!" Frida said, flipping through a small book that she always carried with her in her purse. "Before I make the antidote, I need a list of things!"

"What things?" Juan inquired. He took out a small notebook and a pencil and wrote down every word that Frida listed.

"A bowl, some measuring cups, sugar, flour, yeast, salt, butter, nail polish, hand cream, lipstick, face cream, and chocolate."

"Forget the chocolate, hermana," Juan shook his head. He paused in the middle of his writing. "Do you know how expensive it is?"

"It is?" Héctor asked. "I can afford that!"

"Of course you can," Imelda snorted.

Héctor frowned at her but pretended he didn't hear her.

"Well, maybe I can afford it," Natalia suggested. "Let's go, Héctor!"

The shoemaker was about to leave when he felt a medium-sized hand quickly tugging his sleeve. He turned to his left to see that it was his nephew who had a pleading look in his eyes.

'Please don't leave me with her.'

Compassion fell upon Héctor. Although he wouldn't hesitate to save his sister, the idea of leaving Miguel alone with Imelda was not a good idea. The boy was still frightened around the gangster. Gangsters are known to not have mercy on anyone, especially children. Even though the Princesa de Mafia hasn't done anything to his nephew yet, what are the chances that she might hurt him while he's gone? Besides, the idea of going out again into that horrific neighborhood block made him pause and shiver. He was almost mugged and beaten up on the East Side. What are the chances that he might get beaten up or worse?

"Héctor, please come with me," Natalia pleaded.

"No, Natalia," Hector shook his head, crossing his arms. "I am not going anywhere without my nephew." He held the boy close to him by his side. "Besides, going out there would be a death trap."

"But I can't go out there by myself, either!"

"I have to stay with my nephew at all times."

"But-"

"Then, take someone else with you."

"I will go," Bruno volunteered. "Gloria is in danger and she needs me."

"How do you know she is in danger?" Natalia asked.

"I just have a hunch," he blushed, not wanting to say anymore. He dared not admit that his heart still beats for Gloria.

Héctor sighed in relief, feeling grateful for his old friend's intervention. The idea was much better than he thought! He recalled the times in which Gloria would always tag along with them and Bruno all because she wanted to hang out with him. Bruno was the only boy who didn't mind having a girl play with him much to the Rivera boys' annoyance who wanted a "Boys Only" time with him. As they grew older, sometimes Hector and Enrique would catch Bruno carrying books for Gloria. They used to tease Bruno for having a crush on her. Now he wondered if his old friend still had feelings for his sister or if he had moved on. He also wondered if Bruno knew how upset Gloria looked when he didn't show up.

"Ahora Juan, recuerda nuestro voto silencioso," Imelda reminded him.

"I will," Juan nodded.

"Find my sister and bring her back to me, will you Bruno?"

"Of course, Héctor," the man nodded. "That's what friends are for!"

After the pleasantries and goodbyes, Imelda, and Héctor escorted the children back inside the mansion and closed the door.

"It's almost 10:30 pm," the mother hen said, looking at the grandfather clock. It was the only piece of furniture in the house that wasn't stolen or came from a moving truck. It was a family heirloom that her late mother had inherited from their late grandmother. "Stephanie, es hora de irse a la cama."

"Aww, do I have to?"

"Sí mi hija."

"Mi hija!?" Hector parroted. "Why does she call that, Mira, er, Stephanie? She's not your mother." He yelped when the gangster grabbed him by his shirt collar, daring to say one more word. The fire in her eyes reminded him of the ones he saw in his mother whenever he did something he wasn't supposed to do, as a child. "Um, not that there's anything wrong with that," he smiled sheepishly. He internally sighed in relief when the terrifying woman let go of his collar.

"Come with me, shoemaker," Imelda said, icily. "You too, gatito."

"This is the guest bedroom that you two will be staying in," Imelda explained. She and Mirabel opened the door to their room.

Héctor and Miguel looked as if they didn't get a slice of cake at a birthday party. There was only one bed which only had one thin blanket and two pillows. The walls were an ugly shade of tan. Aside from one small dresser, there was no other furniture. There was a medium-sized window that provided the moonlight.

"Um, very nice," the shoemaker smiled, trying to be grateful.

"I know it isn't what you are used to," said the gangster. It's like she read their minds. "But this is all I have. The bathroom is down by the hall if you need it. If you need anything, ring for Tia Chelo."

"Gracias," Hector thanked her.

"Mirabel, how come you ran away?" Miguel asked suddenly.

"Miguel..," Hector said in a wanting tone.

"I wanted to ask!"

"I…I will tell you tomorrow," Mirabel said, slowly.

"You promised?"

Mirabel nodded. "Buenos noches."

"Buenos noches, girls," Miguel greeted her back.

"Buenos Noches, gatito," Imelda smiled, but her usual twisted smile gave the boy the nerves. Before she could leave, the shoemaker put his hand on her shoulder, which made her blush.

"Wait, there aren't any bugs in here, are they?" the shoemaker asked, nervously. "Bed bugs?"

"Hmmm…," the gangster pretended to think. "Maybe there are, maybe there aren't. You have to wait until tomorrow morning!"

"Boy, and I thought Bruno and Frida were vague."

"Hey, what am I?" The gangster challenged him. She turned around and faced him, with an annoyed look that the shoemaker found strangely attractive. "A bug expert? Sometimes they come, sometimes they don't."

"But what if chamaco gets bitten? What if I get bitten?"

"You'll be fine," Imelda rolled her eyes.

"I don't suppose you have another guest bedroom?"

"Boy, you rich people are alike! You may be a good fighter, but you sure are pampered."

"Pampered!?"

"Oh well, what do I expect? Anyway, Buenos Noches, shoemaker," Imelda smirked, taking her cue for her and Mirabel to leave.

"It's Héctor!"

The door shut and he growled in annoyance. "Pampered!? Hah, I'm not pampered! Why does she keep calling me 'shoemaker?'"

"And why did she call me gatito?" Miguel piped up.

"I am still not sure how this is going to work," Oscar whispered to his twin. After their sister had taken her ward and guests upstairs, the twins had figured out that it was also time to retire to bed. Inside their bedroom, all they had were two beds each with one unclean sheet and one small pillow. Their dresser was very big but only contained two pairs of shirts and two pairs of pants. They have a window that is always closed. If the curtains were open, even by the slightest, there was a chance that a police officer or a thief might see them. They changed their outfits into their long nightshirts. Each sported a nightcap. "Getting our sister and that shoemaker to fall in love."

"Sí," Felipe agreed, knowing what his twin meant. "En un minuto, Héctor e Imelda estaban peleando entre sí-"

"-¡Y al minuto siguiente, estaban coqueteando entre ellos!"

Felipe paused for a moment. "There is consolation in this situation. Ella no echó al zapatero de la mansión como hizo con sus anteriores pretendientes." He climbed into his bed.

"Sí," Oscar nodded. "She is keeping him here."

"A Imelda le gusta pero no sabe cómo demostrarlo-"

"-Sin actuar como una vagabunda".

They had seen the way their sister made the shoemaker drink the lemonade, and they did not like that. It wasn't ladylike for her and it was not the way that Juan intended to do.

Oscar climbed himself into his bed and pulled his only blanket over him. "Well, she needs help if we are going to make Juan's vision a reality."

"Por supuesto!" Felipe nodded before he tucked himself in. "También ayuda que el zapatero tenga un compañero de juegos para Stephanie.".

"Sí," Oscar nodded. "Having a playmate should keep the girl from wanting to leave the mansion." He lay down on his bed. "The shoemaker needs help too."

"He is a decent fellow but he looked torn between liking her and disliking her."

"He probably doesn't like her because she is a gangster but we can fix that!" Oscar said hopefully. "And Juan will help us!"

"We must stay hidden in the shadows, Juan," Natalia said, shivering. "That's why it took me so long to find your boss's place. These shady people are crawling everywhere!"

Bruno shrugged carelessly, used to the noise of his neighborhood.

The sky was now pitch black. It's so dark that only the light from the moon could be used as a guide to get through the darkness. But it also makes you a target for the shady people.

On the left, a gunshot rang out in the street and a woman's scream was heard.

On the right, a small group of five men were laughing while drinking some beer.

Natalia also spotted some people playing pool for money. "This place is so uncouth and dirty!" she huffed, her nose scrunched in disgust. The woman cringed in disgust when some man in an overdressed blue suit with a top hat made kissing noises at her.

"Is he under the love potion?" Natalia whispered to Bruno.

Bruno shook his head and snapped his fingers at the guy. He pointed at his amiga and shook his head, to show that she was not interested in him. He shrugged his shoulders carelessly. He understood how Natalia felt because he too remembered feeling uneasy when he first came here. But with a lot of training and help from Imelda and her gang, he grew accustomed to its unusual norms.

When that flirtatious man deflated and walked away, Natalia breathed a sigh of relief. "Gracias Bruno."

Bruno smiled and allowed Natalia to lead him the way to the underground speakeasy.