Milo's Journey

Chapter 3

Milo walked out the front of the school and looked for Adriana. He found her sitting under a palm tree. He waited a moment until Diego and Jose exited the school, then watched as they walked over to him.

“Milo, what’s on the schedule for today?” Diego said, slapping Milo on the back.

Milo greeted both his friends.

“Come on. I want to introduce you to Adriana,” Milo said, putting his arms around Jose and Diego. Together, they walked over to where Adriana was sitting.

“Adriana, I’d like to introduce you to my two best friends, Diego and Jose,” Milo said, gesturing toward them.

Jose and Diego waved. Adriana closed her book and stood.

“Hello,” she said with a smile.

“Adriana and I were going to walk into town and get a table at La Taza de Oro. You guys are tagging along,” Milo said as he and Adriana started toward the school gate.

“Sounds like fun,” Diego said, smiling at Adriana.

“Milo, I’ve got to call Santiago and let him know,” Jose said, pulling out his phone. “You know how he gets.”

“Tell him to come,” Milo said with a smile. He wasn’t particularly fond of Santiago. He felt Santiago was too possessive of Jose, and after seeing how Jose’s gypsy felt about him, Milo definitely wasn’t a fan.

Milo pulled out his own phone and called his mother.

“Mamá, bendición. I’m going to hang out with Jose and Diego for a bit. If you need me, call me,” Milo said when she answered.

“Okay, mijo. Do not be too late,” Natalia replied before hanging up.

Milo slipped his phone back into his pocket and glanced at his friends.

“Avanza, mijos,” Milo said as he started down the road with Adriana. Jose and Diego followed behind.

La Taza de Oro was a quaint little café with bright yellow walls and a vibrant red door. The outdoor seating area was lined with colorful chairs and umbrellas, inviting guests to sit and enjoy their coffee. Inside, teenage students clustered around small tables, some buried in books, others chatting and laughing with friends.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingled with the scent of pastries and sandwiches coming from the kitchen. It was warm and inviting, the reason it had become the go-to spot for teenagers looking to relax after a long day at school.

Milo noticed a table tucked beside the building, shaded from the sun. A gentle breeze provided welcome relief from the heat. He led Adriana to the table and pulled out her chair. Jose and Diego took seats to her left and right, leaving Milo directly across from her.

Milo caught the waitress’s attention and waited as she approached.

“Hola, Milo, Diego, Jose,” she said shyly.

“Hola, Teresita. May I present Adriana Santana? Her father is stationed at Fort Buchanan,” Milo said softly.

“Mucho gusto, Adriana,” Teresita said with a smile.

“Mucho gusto, Teresita,” Adriana replied.

“Teresita, how is Luisito doing?” Milo asked.

“Much better, Milo, since you explained to him that he must not follow his friends out of the yard when Mommy is not home to watch him, he has done very well. His abuela says he stays put and even scolds them when they don’t behave. All three are getting along famously,” Teresita said gratefully.

Teresita had come to Milo for help because her son Luis was always leaving the house and wandering the town. Milo had been able to see that Luis had two small guardian spirits, a boy and a girl, who only wanted to play with him.

“What can I get you?” Teresita asked, pulling out her notepad.

“We’ll have four café con leches and eight pastelillos—four savory and four sweet,” Milo said, glancing around the table.

Diego and Jose nodded enthusiastically. Adriana smiled.

“As you wish,” Teresita said before heading inside.

Diego leaned back in his chair and turned to Adriana.

“So, your father’s at Fort Buchanan? Isn’t Jayuya a bit out of the way?” he asked.

“Mamá wanted to be in the mountains, not the city,” Adriana said. “Papá comes on the weekends. Mamá’s happier when she can see the sky and feel the sun on her face.”

Milo listened, her words reminding him of his own family’s love of the countryside.

As the plates arrived, Milo let his friends take the lead in conversation while he observed Adriana spiritually. The shadow he had noticed earlier did not return. Diego’s chief watched her with approval, offering her an eagle feather. Jose’s gypsy smiled at her from behind her fan. To Milo, that approval meant a great deal.

As he sipped his coffee and reached for a pastelillo, Santiago appeared. Jose’s gypsy snapped her fan shut in irritation.

“Jose, are you finished wasting time with your friends?” Santiago snapped. “You said you were coming to practice.”

Milo saw the rigid annoyance radiating from Santiago’s spirit guide, a Spanish conquistador who surveyed the café with disdain.

“Santiago, this is Adriana. She’s new here,” Jose said, rising. “We were just making her feel welcome.”

“Nice to meet you, Adriana, but we need to go,” Santiago said, grabbing Jose’s arm.

“There’s no need to be rude,” Milo said, standing. “And there’s no need to grab Jose like that.”

“This is none of your business, jíbaro,” Santiago sneered.

Milo felt the bravado surging from the conquistador. Jose’s hand twitched as if holding a fan, his gypsy stepping closer in protection.

Juan de Dios, you are needed.

The air shifted.

Juan de Dios appeared at Milo’s left. Diego’s chief stepped forward. Jose’s gypsy took her place behind him. The conquistador deflated and faded, and Santiago’s posture followed suit.

“Jose,” Santiago said quietly, “we need to go. I’m sorry.”

“There is always forgiveness for one who asks,” Milo said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

Jose offered an apologetic look as he and Santiago hurried away.

“Call me later,” Milo called after him.

“What was that about?” Diego asked.

“Someone needs to learn manners,” Milo replied. “I’ll explain later.”

When they finished their pastries, Milo offered to walk Adriana home. She accepted with a grateful smile. They said goodbye to Diego, and Milo promised to call him later.

As Milo and Adriana walked through the quiet streets, a sense of calm settled over him. For a brief moment, the weight of his responsibilities lifted in her presence.