Fly High, Butterfly

Chapter Eleven

If you asked Bruno, at 50, his thoughts on his "gift", he'd tell you it was more of a curse than anything (for all of them he might mumble too). He was getting better from spending time with his family outside his life of walls but it didn't erase all the damage his "gift" did alongside the 10 years hidden from the world.

It wasn't just the early, overwhelming expectations, doing what felt like hundreds of visions a week to do anything to help the Encanto. But the visions themselves that have left a faint tremble in his aging hands, persistent headaches, superstitions, and bad habits.

Of course, their Mamá hasn't always been as strict about image, easy to take to neglect and willingly blind to the cracks forming into their familia.

Before becoming lost to the idea of an image, she cared in her own ways: held them close, never yelled, reminded them how special they were. As she lovingly said in a long-forgotten time, "Mi propio milagros."

But...

Being five, Bruno was still getting a handle on his new powers. They all were.

It was hard for Pepa to suddenly learn to contain her emotions when needed, to force a smile, to force a cry, to force a breakdown. Just to give a favorable forecast, so much importance on such a young child. A once-free child, shackled by responsibilities.

It was hard for Julieta to get used to the sudden loss of feeling in her fingers, to recognize the smells between cooking food and cooking flesh before it was too late. To wake up before the sun even thought of rising to make enough food for the town for the day with no help once their Mamá deemed it so.

It was hard for Bruno to watch the old man before him, alive and healthy and warm, appear in sickening green shades laying on the ground next to the stairs, still. To watch couples fight and scream with some striking the other down. There were still good visions, of course, enough of them that their Mamá insisted he kept going, to not disappoint. He just never could control the when, the what or even the where.

He had severe trouble sleeping after getting their gifts.

They each coped in their own ways. Pepa kept her true emotions close to her chest, each facade another layer. Even with her sudden rain clouds, Bruno and Julieta could both see her eyes didn't quite match the act. It was all a show.

Julieta grew up fast, motherly in every way, but quiet. She kept the new burns to herself and would change the conversation when someone mentioned the growing bags under her eyes. Always fussing and worried for her twins, never herself. An "honorary" burden.

Bruno became quiet, suddenly being unable to see his sisters from his prison cave. He got lonely. He got scared. He tried to hide how much he cried. So he made new friends. Hernando and Jorge. They would protect him. Especially when all eyes turned to Bruno.

–

La familia first unofficially met his friends when Bruno was 11. They were having dinner together while their Mamá discussed their performances for the day. She was being unnecessarily harsh on Pepa today. Pepa didn't mean to flood the crops and Casita today. Julieta had brought an inconsolable Pepa with her to Bruno just as he had left his room for the first time that day since breakfast.

Between rushed words they caught something about a couple of fellow town children, something they said set her off, but they couldn't make it out. They didn't care. This was the first time they got to see their hermana truly show her emotions in years so they just hugged her tight and let her let go without saying a word.

All that rain from her clouds had to go somewhere. And Mamá hadn't been happy that that "somewhere" had been a noticeable trail from the nearby farm to their Casita that was still trying to dry itself out.