Milo's Journey

Chapter 7

As the sun rose on Monday morning, Milo went about his chores on the farm—feeding the animals, milking the cows, and cleaning their stalls. He scratched Cachita behind her ears as he walked her out of the barn to the pasture where the other cows were grazing. Cachita nuzzled Milo’s hand before looking him in the eye and moving off into the field.

“Have a good day, Cachita, and behave yourself. I’ll see you this evening,” Milo said, walking back into the barn.

He went to his consulting room and stood before his altar. Knocking three times, he called on El Negro Juanito, using his secret name.

“Juan de Dios, are you here?” Milo said, closing his eyes.

Yes, mi caballito, came Juan de Dios’ voice in his head. You have need of me?

“Yes, Juan de Dios,” Milo replied softly. “I need you to walk with Adriana today and protect her. Can you do that for me?”

Of course, caballito.

Milo opened his eyes, smiled, and knocked on the altar three more times.

“Thank you, Juan de Dios.”

As he stepped out of the barn, Milo paused to appreciate the warmth of the sun and the familiar smells of the land. As he walked back toward the house, he noticed a hawk making lazy circles in the sky. He smiled and sent his thoughts into the spirit realm.

Silent Hawk, please attend.

He waited only a moment before feeling the familiar shift in energy that signaled the approach of his Indian warrior spirit.

You called, little horse?

Along with the words came the faint echo of drums and the rhythmic ringing of small bells.

“Yes, honored chief,” Milo answered silently. Would you accompany me today and stand as my gatekeeper?

It would be my honor to walk by your side this day, little horse.

Students scurried through the bustling hallways of their high school, caught up in daily routines and adolescent concerns. Laughter echoed off the lockers, punctuated by slamming doors and the shrill ring of the bell. None of them were aware of the supernatural world moving quietly alongside them, or of the spirits that followed in their wake.

Milo navigated the crowd, his thoughts returning to Saturday and Adriana’s first possession. He was still surprised by how open she was to the spirits. Her talent was remarkable, but until she fully understood her spiritual court and established her gatekeeper, she would remain vulnerable.

“Hey, watch it!” a student snapped as Milo accidentally bumped into him.

“Sorry,” Milo replied quickly, continuing on, his mind still fixed on Adriana’s safety.

Lending her Juan de Dios’ protection was the best he could do for now. He knew she would be safe—at least until he could teach her to protect herself.

“Hey, Milo.”

He looked up to see Adriana smiling at him as they met at their lockers.

“Hi, Adriana,” he replied, opening his locker to grab his books.

“Milo,” she said quietly as she closed her own locker. “Why is El Negro Juanito following me around and scowling every time a muerto tries to approach me? Usually I just ignore them and pretend I can’t see them, and they leave me alone. But Señor Juanito is keeping everyone away. He’s very intimidating.”

“I asked him to accompany you today,” Milo said gently. “You’re still learning, and I didn’t want you without protection.”

He glanced over her left shoulder, where the tall African warrior stood watch. El Negro Juanito smiled and winked at Milo. Milo barely managed to stifle a laugh.

“Is he poking fun at me again?” Adriana asked. “He scared Mirena’s countessa badly when Mirena was talking to me. One look from Señor Juanito and she faded away like smoke on a breeze—and Mirena seemed to forget what she was giving me a hard time about.”

“No,” Milo said, trying to keep a straight face. “Of course not.”

Adriana studied him for a moment, clearly deciding whether to believe him. Finally, she sighed.

“Okay. But tell him he has to behave. No more scowling at every muerto that tries to get my attention.”

She kissed Milo on the cheek and walked off toward her class.

Milo closed his eyes, letting the sounds of the school wash over him—the chatter, the footsteps, the distant bell. He centered himself and silently called to Silent Hawk.

The proud figure of the warrior appeared before him, dark eyes sharp and watchful.

Greetings, feather brother, Milo thought.

Greetings, little horse.

Thank you for coming, Milo replied. He knew today would be different. Adriana’s first trance had made her newly receptive—a beacon to any spirit that noticed the shift. That was why Juan de Dios stood guard at her side.

Later, Milo caught sight of Santiago.

His heart clenched as he watched Jose stop abruptly in the hallway, eyes widening in shock. Santiago—his boyfriend—was locked in an intimate kiss with Mirena. The color drained from Jose’s face.

“Santiago!” Jose’s voice trembled. “What… what is this?”

“Jose, I—” Santiago stammered, flushing as he pulled away from Mirena.

“Explain yourself. Now,” Jose demanded, fists clenched.

“Look, it’s not what you think. We were just—”

“Save it,” Jose snapped, turning away. He didn’t wait for excuses.

Milo’s heart ached for his friend. He fought the urge to rush forward, knowing Jose needed space more than comfort in that moment. He could only watch, offering silent support.

The bell rang, breaking the tension as students flooded into their classrooms. But the air felt heavy, unresolved.

Milo promised himself he would be there for Jose—no matter what came next.

Later that day, Milo spotted Jose and hurried to catch up.

“Jose,” he called softly.

“Leave me alone, Milo,” Jose muttered, eyes downcast.

“Please,” Milo said gently. “I know you’re hurting, but shutting everyone out won’t help.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jose replied bitterly. “You didn’t just catch your boyfriend kissing someone else.”

“Yeah,” Milo said quietly. “That does suck. I’m sorry, Jose. I’m sorry Santiago let you down. But I’m here—and I won’t.”

He pulled Jose into a firm hug. Jose resisted at first, then slowly relaxed, his shoulders sagging.

“I’ve got you, mijito,” Milo whispered. “Always.”

Jose nodded against his shoulder.

“Maybe there’s something to learn here,” Milo offered carefully.

“Or maybe Santiago is just a liar and a cheat,” Jose said. “I should’ve seen it coming.”

Milo hesitated, then smiled softly. “Come out to the house with me this afternoon. We’ll lie in the field, drink maltas, eat bacalaitos, and forget the world for a while.”

Jose looked lost—but after a moment, he nodded.

“Okay. Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Good,” Milo said. “Just call your mom and let her know you’re with me.”

As Milo headed to his next class, he felt the weight of the day pressing in—but also the quiet certainty that he was exactly where he needed to be.