Trapped

Chapter 2

Camilo laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed until everyone was staring at him in concern. And then? Then he just laughed some more.

"Uh, primo?" Mirabel said slowly. "Are you okay..?"

Camilo grinned with Mirabel's mouth, her own voice replying "Of course, prima." Bruno "never" Abuela "better!"

Isa, Papí, Mamí, a few of the village kids... He danced and leaped around Casita's courtyard. In all the excitement and chaos of Casita coming back to life and everyone else getting their Gifts back, of Dolores rushing for her earmuffs and Antonio crying because he could finally understand his friends again, Camilo had taken a while to realize that he had his Gift back too.

He was free again! He ran like the long-legged man he'd once met at market, jumped like the bouncy girl he babysat, danced like his sister, and sung like his Papí. Bruno screeched and jumped about ten feet in the air when Camilo showed him his impression of him.

Not quite a perfect impression, he knew now, but he would get better. He had all the time in the world to practice, after all.

It was weeks before he was really comfortable spending long periods of time in his own body again (with his freckle moved and scar erased and hair just the way he liked it). He'd have nightmares, sometimes, of getting stuck like that again. Those nights, he'd stay up and pose in front of his mirrors, practicing his different acts again and again and again, until he was actually glad to see his own face staring back at him.

It was months before he got back to the fluid shifting he was known for, no hesitation or thought — merely becoming whatever he needed the be the moment he needed to. Growing taller like one reaches out an arm, shorter as one ducks, shifting like the breeze.

Free, and wild, and ever-changing.

Just the way he liked it.