37. Cleanup

Julieta fixed her eyes on her youngest nephew. A surge of fear rushed through her at his words. The townsfolk were bringing... pitchforks? Why on earth would they do that? There was nothing they had to fear. There was no one that could make them angry enough to...

Oh...

Oh no.

Her eyes dashed to her brother, who was frozen in shock next to her daughters. Even though she couldn't see his face she knew exactly what kind of emotion he must be showing. The same fear that was now residing in her own heart.

But it had been ten years, surely the people wouldn't be that upset at him. Surely they could be a little understanding. She started to walk towards him, then heard him whisper loudly, “Mirabel. Mirabel come here.”

Julieta watched Mirabel do what Bruno said, and he pulled her hand into his. “Mirabel, on the count of three we run.”

“What?!” Mirabel and everyone in a close enough proximity to Bruno exclaimed. Julieta watched her brother squeeze Mirabel's hand tighter, and he said, “They're coming for me Mira. We won't be safe if we stay here... You see... that's part of the reason I left in the first place...”

“Wait!” Antonio called out, and Julieta tore her eyes off of Bruno and back at their nephew. “They also have shovels! And wheelbarrows! I don't think they're here to... hurt you.”

Bruno noticeably relaxed, his hand slipping out of Mirabel's. “Thank God.” he breathed out, and Julieta chuckled in a similar relief. She covered her mouth with her hand, and watched Bruno give Mirabel a side-hug.

She was suddenly pained to see the two of them act so natural around each other. Most of the time Mirabel had been with them she had acted like a fish out of water, always fidgeting around and seeming to not know what to do. But now that she was with Bruno... with her Papá... she acted completely naturally.

The green of her skirt was the same as Bruno's ruana, just in a gradient pattern. The hourglasses on both of their outfits were exactly the same style. Their hair was even cut similarly. The two of them side-by-side made them look like a perfect parent-child set. More so than Julieta's family ever did.

Even though there was technically more pressing matters to deal with, she found herself focusing on her brother and Mirabel. Bruno turned his head and whispered something into Mirabel's ear, which made her giggle, and Julieta felt a pang run through her. She longed to walk up to the two of them and join their small conversation, yet found her feet planted firmly in the ground.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked back to her see her husband, staring at Bruno and Mirabel as well. His face was a mixture of anguish and righteous indignation. Julieta felt guiltier than ever as she stared at him, and felt new tears threaten to make themselves known.

But before she could open her mouth to apologize to her husband for allowing this to happen, the town arrived at the ruined house, and something she never expected happened.

The townsfolk, led by Osvaldo Ortiz, spilled into the wreckage, carrying, as Antonio had said, pitchforks, shovels, and a plethora of other equipment. They didn't seem to even notice Bruno, their gaze fixed on the only member of the family who hadn't said a word since the family had come back to Casita.

“Señora, we are here to help. What do you want us to do?” Osvaldo said, and Julieta stared at all of the pleading eyes, looking for direction. This was how the world worked. Even when everything crumbled Julieta's mother was the one everyone looked to-

“No!”

Everyone's attention was stolen by the voice that had spoken, and a majority of the people all gathered gasped at the person who had said it. Bruno stood there firmly, and Julieta saw a strange look in his eyes. He drew himself up to his full height, and Julieta heard more gasps. “How dare you! Can't you see that she is in no state to lead right now?”

There was nothing but silence as Bruno moved away from Mirabel and stood in front of their mother. He turned and faced the town head on, and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He glared at everyone, and said in a voice that Julieta had never heard come from him before, “My entire life you have always depended on my mother for leadership. My whole life you haven't allowed her to be a person. And I say no more!”

A surge of pride ran through Julieta. Ten years ago Bruno would have laughed if you told him that he'd do something like this. But now there he was, defending her mother. Julieta would need to have a long talk with him soon to ask how he did it.

“You know what, I believe Señora Madrigal has earned a break! I'm in charge of this project now. And if anyone speaks against it they can take it up with me!” He scanned the crowd, everyone too stunned to speak against it. Then he looked over to his left, and said, “Camilo! Get me a box, I'm short.”

Julieta glanced at her nephew, who raised his eyebrows. “Can... I get that in writing?” he asked, and Bruno rolled his eyes, playful smiles on both of their faces. “Sure, after you get me the box.”

Camilo rushed off to do what he said, and Bruno looked over at Mirabel. “Mira, you're on pitchfork duty. I have no idea why any of them brought them, but you can figure something out.” Mirabel saluted him, and Bruno shouted, “Alright! Everyone with a pitchfork follow Mirabel! If you don't know who that is she's the one with the glasses!”

No one did anything. The townsfolk all glanced at each other, not really knowing what they were doing. After a minute of awkward silence and lack of motion Bruno yelled out, “Do I need to repeat myself!? Get going!”

No one really knew what to do in that situation, so they just did what Bruno ordered. There was a look of smug satisfaction on his face, and Julieta found herself in awe of how confident he appeared, even though she could see his shaking hands.

Camilo returned with a wooden box a few minutes later, and Bruno thanked him before climbing up on top of it and, for the first time in his life, looking down upon the townsfolk. “Alright! Shovels go with... uh...” He glanced at the gaggle of nieces and nephews he had standing around him, and made his choice, “Camilo. Wheelbarrows go to Isabela. You'll be working with Camilo's team and getting all the rubble into piles far enough away that we can start reconstruction plans. Those with other tools go with Pepa. I'm sure she can figure out what to do with them.”

The people sorted themselves into their groups, and Bruno stared at the small group that was left with no job. “The rest of you will go with Dolores and Julieta. You'll be on the recovery group. Find anything that is still useful and make a home for it.”

He nodded in approval once everyone was in their respective positions. Then he pointed at Mariano Guzman and said, “Hey you, tall dark and handsome.” Mariano spluttered from where he was standing in Camilo's group, but he nodded at Bruno.

“Go get me and my mother some tea.” Bruno ordered with a soft smile, he looked back at his mother and offered her a smile. “And some food would be nice. You look like a nice guy.” Mariano nodded, then whispered, “What is it with these missing Madrigals and asking me to do stuff?” and rushed off to fulfill Bruno's request.

Julieta never wanted to hug her brother more.

Alma stared around at the people working. There was a nagging feeling inside of her that told her that she should be getting up and helping, at least in some part with this enormous project, but her son, sitting on a chair just across the large-piece-of-rubble-table that had been set up from the two of them, made sure that she didn't even stand up in that moment.

Every few minutes someone would come up to him, an equal amount of family members and random villagers, and ask him a question, not daring to even look at her. Bruno always answered in a calm and even tone, but Alma could hear a something in his voice that offset her.

Mariano came to them after about an half hour, a tray with a tea pot and two cups on it, along with a plate of empanadas. He placed it on their makeshift table and went to help the others.

Bruno sighed when he left, and poured himself a cup of tea. Alma stared at him as he visibly relaxed, and poured her own cup full of the warm liquid.

“I am so tired.” Bruno said after he drained his first cup. “I can't imagine doing anything like this with a baby. Much less three.” He sent her a pained smile, and then added, “I can't believe that they think you should be in charge of this.”

Alma pressed her lips together in a thin line. Her son picked up an empanada and took a bite out of it, before looking back at the people bustling about them. She smiled at him, then said words she couldn't remember saying to him before, “I'm really proud of you Brunito.”

Bruno snapped his head back and stared at her, and if Alma didn't know better she say she saw tears in his eyes. He smiled back at her, and said, “Thank you Mamá.”

He was momentarily distracted by Dolores coming over to him and whispering something in his ear, then he exclaimed, “You guys did?! That's great! Bring it here, I haven't seen it in so long!” Dolores smiled at him, then nodded at Alma before whisking herself away again.

Bruno smiled at his tea cup as he poured himself another cup. “They found Papá's portrait.” he said wistfully, and Alma felt he breath catch in her throat. She felt tears rising up inside of her as she stared at Bruno, and she clutched at the locket she kept her own picture of Pedro inside.

Bruno's eyes roved over the scene in front of him, and he looked more like his father than ever. It was starting to hurt her heart. Then she blurted out another thing she had never told him before:

“Your father would be so proud of you.”

Bruno looked back at her, a sad smile on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it once more.

“That's all I ever wanted.” he whispered, and then the two of them watched Dolores bring the painting to them.