“Camilo! Wake up, dear!” a gentle voice rang in through his door. The only response she got was snoring. “Camilo! Wake up, mi amor!” Again, just the gentle sound of snoring.
Thunder!
“Wake! Up!”
Camilo shot up out of bed, stumbling out, shifting into the forms of five different people in the process. “I’m awake! I’m awake! No lightning! Not again!”
At the door, his mother stood with her arms crossed and an amused smirk. “There’s my baby boy,” she cooed, which made Camilo scoff. He was twenty-one, but it seemed he’d never grow out of his mother doting over him. “Your Abuela needs your help, Camilito,” she said. “Get dressed and go meet her. We have new comers to town, and you know there is no better tour guide. After all, nobody knows everybody better than you.”
It was true. Camilo’s gift made him naturally inclined to learn as much as he could about everybody, making his transformations that much better. He knew the sounds of their voices, their mannerisms, the smallest details of their faces and clothing. Such things made one pick up other things pretty naturally as well.
“Mama, do I have to?” Camilo asked. “Today I was supposed to meet with Tio Bruno. He was going to-“
“Bruno can wait, dear. You need to do your part.”
With a grumble, Camilo got ready, dawning is usual outfit of yellow and brown, his poncho hanging loosely off him before he headed out to the town square.
Finding Abuela was easy enough, and as he got closer he noticed three others as well. A man and woman, obviously a couple who looked to be about his parents’ age, and… a girl. His age. There’d never been anyone else Camilo’s age in the village. Sometime he thought that that might be the source of his gift, the way he had to play by himself as a child, doing impressions of those around him.
He approached the group, an almost shy smile on his face. “Hola, Abuelita,” he said to her respectfully, then looked to the others. “Buenos dias. I’m Camilo Madrigal.”
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