by Aiden Thomas
“Yeah,” Yadriel said, still hung up on the previous revelation.
Julian nodded. “So, she gets it.” The corner of his lips pulled into a grin. “That’s pretty cool.”
Yadriel looked across at his statue of Lady Death on his altar. Of course she knew—she saw who Yadriel really was. She’d made that clear when she blessed him with his portaje. But he hadn’t considered that there was an entirely lost history of brujx like him. Julian was right; it seemed obvious now. There was no way he was the first, and he wouldn’t be the last.
“So,” Julian prompted again. “Why isn’t that enough?”
“It won’t be enough for the rest of the brujx,” Yadriel pushed back. “They’ll need more proof.”
“Not good enough for them, or not good enough for you?” Julian asked, finally looking over at him.
The question struck him in the chest. “It’s complicated—”
“Because—and I’m not trying to back out of our deal, here—but if this is just to prove yourself to them—”
“They’re my family—”
“Well, screw them, if they’re making you go through all this crap!” Julian snapped.
Yadriel was caught between wanting to defend his family and appreciating what Julian was trying to say. Mostly, he was tired and frustrated. He was tired of fighting, on all fronts. “It’s not that simple—”
“I mean, Flaca isn’t any less of a girl just because other people look at her and don’t see her as one,” Julian went on. “Just because she’s not on hormones or whatever, or ’cause she’s not ‘passing,’ doesn’t mean other people get to decide who she is. And the same goes for you.”
Heat bloomed in Yadriel’s cheeks.
“You don’t owe anybody shit,” Julian told him, stormy anger brewing behind dark eyes.
He was kind of an asshole. Julian was abrasive, sometimes rude, and didn’t seem to have much tact. But, for some reason, Yadriel’s heart still fluttered in his chest.
He blinked at Julian, not knowing what to say. It seemed way too easy, way too idyllic. Things didn’t just work like that in the real world.
It wasn’t enough to have summoned Julian, to have been bound to his portaje, or for Lady Death’s blessing to flow through him with its golden light. He needed to do everything the men could do before asking the brujx to accept him into the community. He couldn’t leave any gaps for them to question.
He loved his family, and the worst possible thing would be for them to shun him entirely. He saw how they treated him, and Tío Catriz. If they found out what Yadriel was up to, before he was able to successfully release a spirit, he was worried they—including his dad—would cast him out for good.
But how could he explain that to Julian?
“I kind of wish I could trade my family for yours,” Yadriel said with a weak laugh. They weren’t even blood, but in the short time he’d interacted with them, he could see how fiercely they cared for one another. Especially Julian.
“I wouldn’t trade them for the world,” Julian said solidly.
Yadriel smiled. He envied whoever Julian gave his fiery devotion to. It was a warm and unyielding force to be shielded by.
“They seem nice.”
Julian gave him a withering look.
Okay, so maybe he hadn’t seen much “friendliness,” except from Luca.
“Well, Omar seems kinda intense,” Yadriel conceded.
“He is.” Julian grinned affectionately, toying with the end of Purrcaso’s flicking tail.
Yadriel thought about all the rumors Maritza’s friends had said at school and Julian’s intense reaction. “Is he … you know, in a gang?”
His eyes snapped to Yadriel. “What?”
Clearly a misstep. Yadriel tried to backpedal. “Uh, former gang member?”
Julian’s laugh was sharp. “No.” He traced shapes onto the windowpane with his finger. Casually, he added, “But Luca was.”
It was Yadriel’s turn to balk. “What? Luca?” His mind spun. The sweet boy with the shy smile? It didn’t add up. “But—but he’s so— He doesn’t fit—”
“’Course he does,” Julian said impatiently. “They steer clear of Omar. Wouldn’t be able to pull him in without an all-out fight. Too much work. But Luca?” Julian shook his head in that frustrated way parents did when their kids did something stupid. “You saw him. He’s like a puppy—just wants to fit in and for people to like him. He’d do anything to feel like part of a family. He’s easy prey for gangs.”
Julian sounded annoyed, angry, even, but Yadriel wasn’t sure if it was with Luca or the ones who had taken advantage of him.
Probably both.
“His parents don’t give a shit about him,” Julian continued, his lip curling in distaste. “Most of the time, they don’t even notice if he’s home, and when they do, they treat him like garbage. They make him sleep outside for any damn thing, like leaving a dirty dish in the sink. His piece-of-shit dad used to use his arm like an ashtray.” Julian’s anger was palpable, like an electric storm in the air around him. “He didn’t show up for picture day because he had a black eye.”
Yadriel’s stomach gave a sickened lurch. “Jesus…” He understood Julian’s anger. He’d only met Luca a few hours ago, and the thought of someone causing him harm made his blood boil.
“He got sucked into one as soon as he started high school,” Julian continued. “We didn’t see him for weeks, and his parents didn’t care. One less thing for them to worry about, I guess. By the time we tracked him down, he was living in a drug den and had gotten branded with tattoos.” Julian ran a finger along the side of his face.
Yadriel remembered Luca’s scar. “What happened?” he asked, knowing the answer would be ugly.
“My brother, Rio.” Julian’s expression softened just a touch. “He’d been in the same gang when he was our age. He went and got Luca, which is not easy.” Julian shrugged. “I never asked how he managed it. Maybe they owed him or something? I dunno. But you don’t get to just leave. When Rio brought Luca home, they’d burned all his tattoos off.”
Yadriel sucked in a breath, and Julian must’ve heard it because he added, “Usually, it’s blood in, blood out, so it was a better alternative.”
Yadriel involuntarily cringed. That was a sort of pain he couldn’t even begin to imagine. Even just getting a burn from the oven was nearly unbearable.
“Rio’s got the same kind of scars on his arm. Luca was laid up on our couch for weeks. It was like if he wasn’t sleeping, he was just moaning in pain,” Julian said, wincing as if he could still hear it in his head.
“Why didn’t you take him to a hospital?”
“No health insurance. Luca got real sick, we did everything we could, but it still got infected. He got a fever. My brother heard about this lady who did, like, natural healing stuff? Y’know, weird herbs that smell terrible, made him drink stuff that looked like dishwater. After a few days he felt better. His scar looks way better than Rio’s now. Whatever she did worked.”
“I wonder if it was a bruja,” Yadriel said.
Julian looked over at him. “You think?”
Yadriel shrugged. “Kind of sounds like it, doesn’t it? If he was in that bad of shape, and she healed him that quickly…” It definitely seemed in the realm of possibility.
“So there’s witches out there who can heal people like that.” He snapped his fingers. “And they’re just handing out favors to poor folks?”
“Well, some of them are doctors,” Yadriel explained. “Maritza’s sister, Paola, is in medical school right now—”
“Isn’t that cheating?” Julian frowned.
Yadriel scowled, feeling suddenly defensive. “Does it matter, if they’re still helping people?”
Julian jutted his chin and shrugged.
“Anyway, we have to afford to live, somehow, so they get jobs where they can use their healing. And, like you said, some of them run little businesses right out of their homes and disguise it as n
aturopathy. That’s what my mom did.” Yadriel’s eyes slid over to the framed photo of his mom. It was cast in shadows, but he could still make out her white teeth and big smile. “Sometimes she wouldn’t even take payment, either, even though it cost her every time she healed.”
“Ah, right. Bigger tasks take more magic, y’all only have so much to tap into, yada yada yada.” Julian nodded, recalling their conversation from the other day.
Yadriel’s stomach twisted. His mouth was dry, like his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. “And if you use too much, you can die,” he said, refusing to look at Julian when he said it. Yadriel could practically hear Julian’s brain buzzing with a slew of questions, so he cut him off at the pass.
“And some people aren’t born with much, or any,” he plowed on. “Like my uncle Catriz—”
“Tall guy with the big nose, gauged ears, and man bun?” Julian asked.
Yadriel scowled. “It’s not a man bun!” he snapped defensively. “Wearing your hair long and having stone plugs in your ears like that is very traditional.”
Julian smirked and Yadriel rolled his eyes.
“Anyways. Even though we’re from a powerful line of brujx—going back to even before the great Aztecs and Maya—his magic is so weak, he can only see and sense spirits,” Yadriel explained. “He can’t perform the other tasks of the brujos. They call it dilución de la magia, which means—”
“The dilution of magic, yeah, I know,” Julian interrupted. “I told you, I speak Spanish.”
“Well, my tío is an outcast like me,” Yadriel went on. “I mean, Maritza chooses to not be a bruja, but me and my uncle weren’t given that choice.” He shrugged.
“He gets me, and he has my back,” Yadriel said, remembering how Catriz had stood up for Yadriel earlier. How he’d tried talking sense to his dad. Even though it hadn’t worked, Yadriel was deeply thankful he’d even tried. He owed his tío big time for that.
“Well, at least your family is more accepting than Flaca’s,” Julian said, following his own train of thought. “She’s trans, but she’s a ‘throwaway.’”
“Throwaway?” Yadriel repeated, trying to regather his thoughts. He’d noticed—or assumed—Flaca was trans, but he didn’t know what “throwaway” meant.
“Yeah, her parents kicked her out when she told them.” He glowered up at the ceiling. “Throwaway. It was rough at first; she didn’t have anywhere to go, so she stayed with us a lot. But now she’s got some distant relatives—a cousin, I think—that she’s crashing with. Most of the time, anyways.”
“What about Rocky and Omar?” Yadriel asked. “If they’re hiding out at the underpass because they’re scared, aren’t their parents worried?”
“Rocky’s in a group home,” Julian said, as if that explained everything.
“Not all foster homes are bad,” Yadriel felt compelled to argue. One of his cousins and her husband were foster parents who had taken in a little girl. “Kids get adopted to nice families all the time—”
“Being in a group home is not the same as being with a foster family,” Julian told him. “It’s just a big house run by the state. Rocky hates it there. Too many kids, not enough beds, and some of them are real assholes.” Julian heaved a deep sigh. “Whenever she needed a break, Rio let her crash at our place. Same goes for Flaca, and Luca, like I said. Doesn’t even ask questions, just drags another blanket out of the closet.” His expression softened. “It’s a doggy-dog world out there,” Julian sighed.
The corner of Yadriel’s mouth twitched. “Dog-eat-dog.”
“Whatever.”
“What about Omar?”
“Omar’s the best of us.” He laughed. “Definitely the smartest one in the group. Good grades. Usually the one keeping the rest of us from getting into too much trouble. He’s the only one who’s got parents that actually like him,” Julian said. “But they got deported.”
Yadriel cringed. He thought of the brujx who had been taken away. It left a hole in their community, a pain that ached through multiple families and generations. Yadriel hated himself a little for judging Omar so quickly.
“But Omar was born here, so he didn’t have to go with them. He wanted to, but they wouldn’t let him,” Julian explained. “They sacrificed everything to get to the US and make sure Omar had a better life than them, you know? It’s messed up, man.” He shook his head slowly. “Rio said Omar could live with us, even though we don’t have much space. His parents try to call as often as they can, but…” Julian shrugged. “He puts on a front, acts like shit doesn’t bother him, but I can tell it does. FaceTime isn’t the same as having your parents here with you.”
Yadriel knew that all too well. The way Julian said it made it clear he knew from personal experience, too.
“Do you mind if I ask what happened to your dad?” Yadriel asked.
“Got shot.” The muscles in Julian’s jaw clenched. “Stray bullet from a drive by. Wrong place, wrong time. He got me that necklace when I was younger.” He motioned to the St. Jude medal where it rested in the dip of Yadriel’s throat.
Yadriel traced his fingers over it.
“Y’know, lost cause, and all that.” He grinned like it was an inside joke.
“And your mom?” Yadriel asked, dragging his thumbnail across the engraved letters.
His question chased off Julian’s smile. “She and my dad met in Colombia and moved here before my brother was born. But after she had me, my mom ran off. Dad never heard from her again.” Julian shifted. “My life sounds pretty boring compared to all those rumors. I think I like the sicarios-on-the-run story way better.” He smirked.
“I’m sorry about your mom,” Yadriel said, but Julian didn’t seem too bothered about it.
Julian shrugged. “Can’t miss someone you never knew, right?”
Yadriel supposed he had a point.
“Sounds like Rio really takes care of you guys.”
Julian shrugged before simply saying, “We’re family.”
“He’s got to be worried sick about you,” Yadriel gently nudged.
“Yeah, well”—Julian tucked his hands under the back of his head—“we had a huge fight a few days ago, so I left. Told him I wasn’t coming back.” A deep crease pressed between his eyebrows. “And then I went and got myself killed, so. He’s put up with enough shit because of me,” he added with a shake of his head. “He was only twenty years old when my dad died. He stepped up to be my legal guardian, so I didn’t get tossed into the system, but what twenty-year-old guy wants to have to take care of his kid brother? And then to take in Omar, on top of it?” Julian snorted.
“He had to take a job at the mechanic business my dad and his friend owned. Carlos lets us stay in the little apartment above the shop, and Rio works for him to afford rent and groceries and stuff. He’ll probably be able to afford a real place without me dragging him down.” Julian nudged Purrcaso’s paw where it rested on the windowsill. She let out a noise of sleepy indignation.
Yadriel knew very little about Rio, but, from what he’d heard, something told him Julian was completely wrong. He doubted his brother was better off with him gone.
“What happened to your mom?” Julian ventured.
It was an obvious question. One that Yadriel was surprised Julian hadn’t asked already. He must’ve really been holding himself back. But that didn’t mean he was going to give him the details. “Car accident,” he said curtly.
Julian frowned. “Why didn’t someone just heal her?”
Yadriel’s whole body tensed. His stomach twisted.
“Or, like, bring her back to life or something?” Julian scratched at his head.
“Brujas can only heal you if your heart’s still beating,” Yadriel told him. “You have to be alive. And brujos haven’t been able to bring people back to life since—”
Julian sat bolt upright. “Wait, y’all can really bring people back to life? I was joking!”
“Sssh!” Yadriel hissed. “Could—we can’t do it any
more. Like I told you, dilution of powers over time.”
“Still!” He flopped back onto the bed, chuckling. “That’s so badass.”
“Yeah, well, like I said, it required a lot of power.”
“So the people they brought back were, like, definitely zombies, right?”
Yadriel groaned. “Not the zombies again—”
“Evilly resurrecting someone from the dead can only lead to zombies! I know it; I read books,” Julian said.
Yadriel cocked an eyebrow.
“Okay, okay, okay, but I’ve seen enough movies to know how this goes down!” Julian corrected through barely suppressed chuckles.
Yadriel scrubbed his hands down his face. “You’re impossible!” he said, laughter jumping in his chest. He tucked his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.
“I kind of made a mess of things, huh?” Yadriel said. He wasn’t fishing for sympathy, just stating the obvious. Keeping secrets from his family. Putting his foot in his mouth on more than one occasion. Completely botching the conversation with Julian’s friends. More sneaking, more lies. He was in over his head.
“Yeah,” Julian agreed very matter-of-factly, not malicious or even teasing. “But now your mess is my mess, too.” He tilted his head toward Yadriel and spoke softly. “It’s bound to be easier if we’re both cleaning it up, right?”
The dimples of his tired smile made Yadriel light-headed.
For the first time in a very long time, he didn’t feel like a lost cause. It was nice to have someone to talk to about this stuff. He had his tío and Maritza, of course, but there were still degrees of separation between their experiences. When he came out, there was a lot of legwork and explaining to his tío and Maritza about who he was. It took time and a lot of emotional work on Yadriel’s part.
But with Julian, there was no training involved because he already understood him. It was … easy. Yadriel hadn’t known it could be that painless and simple for someone to see him as he was.
For a moment, they both lay there, quiet laughter mingling with the soft music playing from the iPhone.
