Milo's Journey

Chapter 8

When Jose and Milo arrived at the farm, Milo found his family’s capazo, a straw tote that had been in his family for generations, sitting on the table, the delicious odor of freshly fried bacalaitos permeating the air. Several ice-cold bottles of Malta, malt beer, were packed in a small cooler next to the capazo.

Milo had called ahead and told his mother about the trouble with Santiago and asked her to fry her special bacalaitos. They were Jose’s favorites since they first became friends. He would find any excuse to come over on Fridays because he knew Doña Natalia would be making fish, and bacalaitos would definitely be on the menu.

Milo resolved to do something special for his mother to thank her for helping him cheer up his heartcore friend. Jose was still quiet, and Milo knew he was replaying the altercation with Santiago in his head.

Milo dragged Jose over to the table.
“Smell that. Have you ever smelled anything so wonderful in your life?” Milo said in adoration.

Jose looked over at his friend, who was standing over the capazo of bacalaitos, breathing in the delicious aromas dramatically.

“Jose, pinch me, I must be dreaming,” Milo said melodramatically. Milo’s act was so campy that Jose couldn’t help but laugh.

“No,” Jose said when he stopped laughing. “I’ve never smelled anything so delicious, but I think it would be even better if we tasted them!”

Jose went to reach inside the capazo, only to have his hand lightly smacked.

“Ouch!” Jose yelped.

“Date quieto,” Milo said. “You have to wait till we get to our spot. Drop your bag on the porch by the swing and follow me.”

Milo grabbed the capazo and the cooler and waited for Jose to deposit his school bag on the porch near the swing.

They walked around the house and traveled past the pasture. Cachita caught sight of Milo and trotted over to the fence, mooing loudly. Jose laughed, and it brightened Milo’s heart.

“I think your girlfriend is calling you. Do you think she’s jealous because I’m here?” Jose said, teasing Milo.

They both went over to the fence where Cachita was waiting to have her ears scratched. Milo handed the bags to Jose and scratched Cachita’s ears.

“Hola, nenita bella, my beautiful girl,” Milo said as Cachita nuzzled his neck. Milo patted her on the side.
“Go back to the ladies, beautiful. We’re just going to the other side of the pasture under the Palo Santo trees.”

Cachita looked at Milo and, with one more quick nuzzle, turned and went back to grazing.

“I swear, Milo, she understands you so well. It is uncanny,” Jose said, shaking his head.

“Cachita is one of a kind,” Milo said, taking the bag and walking over to the barn to use the spigot so he could wash his hands.

After Milo dried his hands, he grabbed the capazo, and they continued to the east side of the property and found their usual spot under the Palo Santo trees. Here, they could watch the sun as it began to travel over the mountains and gradually fell behind them.

Milo spread the blanket his mother had packed for them and took a seat with his back against the trunk of the Palo Santo tree. Jose sat down on the blanket near Milo and watched as Milo took out the bacalaitos and opened two bottles of Malta. Handing one to Jose, Milo took a quick sip of his.

Milo handed Jose a bacalaito and took one for himself. Jose took a bite of his, and Milo could see him relax and enjoy the delicate codfish fritter. Milo took a bite of his own, and the two of them sat in silence, appreciating the delicious flavor of the bacalaitos.

Milo waited patiently for Jose to open up. He knew that Jose needed to talk about what happened, but he was determined to wait him out and let Jose make the first move.

After a few minutes of eating in silence, Jose moved over and dropped down, putting his head in Milo’s lap. They had been friends for a long time, and Milo was always the one Jose went to when he felt sad or needed to feel safe. This spot under the trees had long been their retreat, where they could talk about anything. It was here that Jose had first told Milo he was gay, and it was here that Milo told him it didn’t matter—he loved him just the way he was. Gay or straight, it would never change a thing between them.

Milo reached down and began to play with Jose’s hair, running his fingers soothingly through it, almost absent-mindedly.

“Papito, do you want to talk about it?” Milo said gently.

Jose released a disheartened breath as he considered where to start.

“It felt like my whole world was crumbling when I found out that Santiago had been seeing Mirena behind my back. You know it was a struggle to come out to my parents at first, but things eventually turned around. Then I met Santiago and thought he liked me—he was handsome and popular. My parents even accepted him, and my mom donated a lot of money to the school’s sports program, resulting in Santiago becoming team captain for soccer. It seemed like things were getting better, but then everything changed. Santiago became increasingly impatient with me. We argued more, and he started making cruel jokes at my expense. I guess I should have known something was wrong. I just never thought I would be humiliated in front of the whole school.”

Jose stopped speaking and just lay there with his eyes closed.

“I’m sorry you had to find out that way,” Milo said, continuing to run his hands through Jose’s hair.

“But you got me, papito. I will always be here. I won’t ever leave you, and believe me, those who do evil never prosper,” Milo said, looking out at the mountains as the sun descended behind them.

“I’m just tired, Milo. Tired of seeing other people be happy and never having any happiness of my own.”

Milo could see a tear running down Jose’s cheek.

“Papito, you deserve love. You deserve someone who will cherish you for all that you are, someone who can keep up with your gitana when she wants to take you dancing, and someone who can protect you when you feel afraid.”

Jose turned and looked up at Milo. When he looked into Milo’s eyes, he saw something there that he hadn’t noticed before. Milo’s eyes were filled with such love that it made Jose’s breath catch in his throat. Milo leaned down and kissed Jose gently.

“Milo…” Jose said when their lips parted.

“I’ve loved you from the first day we became friends. I just never had the courage to tell you, and when I finally thought I could, you had started dating Santiago, so I kept quiet,” Milo said, looking down at Jose.

Jose sat up and looked at Milo. He was speechless.

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I wanted you to know how special you are,” Milo said, looking away. He couldn’t bear being rejected, and Jose hadn’t said anything yet.

Suddenly, Milo felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned back around, and Jose hugged him tightly.

“Milo, how could I not love you? You are my shelter and shade. Whenever I’m feeling afraid or sad, it’s you I come to to make me feel safe. I guess deep inside I knew you were always my home, but I never thought you would feel the same. I’m glad you told me, and I’m glad I have you in my life. I’m yours, if you will have me.”

Jose leaned over and kissed Milo deeply. After a minute, they parted and looked at each other, and both burst out laughing.

“I guess we should thank that asshole and Mirena,” Jose said when they stopped laughing.

Jose returned his head to Milo’s lap, and they spent the next hour stuffing themselves with bacalaitos and drinking Maltas.

Milo looked up to see Silent Hawk standing in the distance with Jose’s gitana. They were both smiling at him and Jose as they faded from sight.

Tuesday morning, Milo waited in front of the school for Diego and Jose. As they approached, Milo walked over and looked at Jose.

“Are you ready for this?” Milo said, reaching out his hand.

Jose smiled and took Milo’s hand. Diego looked at them both.

“What’s up?” Diego said.

“Milo and I are dating,” Jose said happily.

Diego let out a whoop.

“It’s about damn time. I was getting worried you two would never figure it out!”

Jose and Milo looked at Diego.

“Yeah, that’s right. You two were the only ones who didn’t realize you should be together,” Diego said, putting his arms around both of his friends.

“Ready to face the school and Santiago?” Milo said, looking at Jose.

Jose nodded.

“Let’s do it,” he said as he began to walk toward the school’s entrance.

As they entered the main hall, Milo could see kids rushing to their lockers and the general chaos that occurred before first period. As they were walking to their lockers, Milo noticed Santiago and Mirena hanging out on one side of the hallway.

“Well, it seems that the fag didn’t wait long to find another boyfriend,” Mirena said loudly.

Santiago at least had the grace to seem embarrassed by her words.

Jose stiffened as if he had been slapped. Milo looked over at him and squeezed his hand before letting go and walking over to where Santiago and Mirena were standing.

They turned to face him, Santiago puffing out his chest and Mirena looking at Milo defiantly.

Milo looked over Mirena’s and Santiago’s shoulders to the Conquistador and Contessa who were standing behind them, looking smug.

His words were like stones falling in an avalanche.

“You are never to bother Jose again. He is mine.”

Santiago and Mirena laughed. Santiago was about to respond until Milo looked at him. He stepped back, unsure of what he saw in Milo’s eyes.

Milo turned his attention back to the Conquistador and the Contessa, who looked at Milo in contempt. Milo simply smiled.

Suddenly, behind Milo appeared El Negro Juanito.

We are here, Caballito.

Then, behind Milo appeared a great throng of spirits—Negros, Congoitos, gitanas, Indian braves and chiefs, Arabs, and even the spirits of Buddhist monks. The hallway was crowded with spirits, and the air crackled with spiritual energy.

Adriana was standing with many other students who were watching the confrontation between Milo and Santiago. Only she could see the spirits arrayed like an army behind Milo. Her eyes widened in shock at the spiritual multitude.

Milo continued, still looking over Santiago and Mirena at the Conquistador and Contessa.

“You no longer exist in Jose’s world. You are like the unremembered dead, forgotten like dishes now broken and worthy only of the trash heap. There will be no prayers said for you, no light given to you, no evolution—only darkness.”

Milo’s words seemed to crash down on Jose’s Conquistador and Mirena’s Contessa. They looked shocked and then saddened. They began to fade from sight, and as they did, Santiago’s and Mirena’s confidence seemed to deflate, and they simply turned and walked away.

Milo looked down, saddened.

El Negro Juanito placed a hand on Milo’s shoulder.

It had to be done, Caballito. They needed to be punished.

I know, I know, but I have never had to use my gift to harm. It makes me feel empty.

You didn’t use your gift to harm, but to protect. Do you think we would all walk with you if you abused your gift? We walk with you because you are kind and gentle. But sometimes, Caballito, you must fight in order to keep those you love safe.

Jose walked over to Milo and took his hand again.

“Thank you, Milo, for standing up for me.”

Milo turned to Jose and smiled sadly. “No one is ever going to hurt you again. I promise.”

Jose looked at Milo and hugged him. “I love you,” he whispered.

The bell rang for first period. Jose left to go to math, and Milo headed toward history.