Milo's Journey

Chapter 20

Milo and Jose met Adriana and Diego at the school gates just after the last bell. Adriana kissed Milo and Jose on the cheek, then slipped her arm through Milo’s.

“Diego is taking Jose to the library for research,” she said, already steering Milo forward, “and you and I are going back to the farm for another lesson.”

Milo opened his mouth to protest, but Jose spoke first.

“Mi amor, she’s right. We need to divide and conquer. Adriana needs to become more comfortable with her gifts, and Diego and I need to start researching the Taíno legends. Go. I’ll be fine.”

Jose kissed Milo’s cheek and gently pushed him toward the bus stop.

As Adriana dragged him forward, Milo looked back over his shoulder at Jose. Jose smiled reassuringly.

“Okay, Papa, let’s get a move on. We’ve got an appointment with some big, old, dusty books!” Diego said, slipping an arm around Jose and steering him toward town.

“Diego,” Jose said, smiling teasingly, “do you know what a book is?”

“I may have read one,” Diego quipped back, “once or twice.”

Adriana looked over at Milo as he looked forward to the bus stop.

“Milo, he will be fine. He has Diego with him. Between the Gypsies and the Indios, they are packing some real spiritual energy.” She patted him on the arm in an attempt to comfort him.

At that moment, the bus pulled up, and Adriana and Milo waited their turn to board. As they found seats in the back of the bus, Milo noticed that it was unusually crowded—both spiritually and humanly. Adriana looked at him but remained silent. Milo patted her hand but said nothing.

Milo laid his head back and closed his eyes, shutting out all the noise. Adriana, seeing this, did the same, resting her head on Milo’s shoulder for the ride back to the farm.

Jose and Diego entered the library. It wasn’t like other libraries you might see in small towns. This library was a labor of love of the people of Jayuya. Books were donated, left, and even bought for the library. Here, anyone could come in and take a book to read, or leave one they had already read for someone else. It was community made manifest. Speaking briefly to the librarian at the front desk, they headed back into the stacks, looking for religion and philosophy, hoping they would find more clues to the prophecy that had been revealed to them.

After a while of searching through books on the Taíno myths and scholarly interpretation, Jose was ready to pull his hair out. He felt like he was missing something—like the answer wasn’t here, but it was very close.

Diego noticed Jose’s frustration.

“What is it?” he prodded quietly.

“These books are useless. We need more—we need someone who knows the legends and the history. This is like searching for a needle in a hundred haystacks!” Jose closed the book he was paging through.

At the same time, the librarian stepped over to the table where they had laid everything out.

“Boys, if you are interested in the Taíno myths, you probably would do better to visit the Museo El Cemí. The curator there is an expert on the Taíno.”

Jose looked over at Diego and then to the librarian. He got up from the table and collected the books. Giving them back to the librarian, he said,

“Thanks, Doña Ana. That helps a lot. We will go over there right now.”

He grabbed Diego’s arm and ushered him out of the library.

Milo lit the red candle he had placed on his altar. After a moment of silence, he turned and sat at the table across from Adriana.

“Milo, why red?” Adriana said, looking at the candle.

“Spiritualists light candles to give light to their cuadro. The flame is an offering of illumination so that the spirits can continue to evolve. Most of the time, the candle is white, providing peaceful, calm energy. But sometimes, when a spiritualist goes into battle or needs protection, they light a red candle. The energy is different—it is a wake-up call to the muertos.”

“So are we going to battle, or sending up a flare to gather the troops?”

“That is a unique way of putting it, but no—we are not going to battle. But yes, we are, as you say, sending up a flare. The candle is a call. It is time your cuadro made itself known. The red candle is our way of saying now is the time to step forward.”

As they walked back out into the sunshine, Diego couldn’t help but notice how fast Jose was walking. It was as if he had suddenly caught fire, and the only source of water was at the museum.

The Museo El Cemí was located in the mountains of Jayuya. Jose knew that he and Diego couldn’t get there on their own, so he did the only thing he knew to do. He called his mom.

“Joseito, ¿qué te pasa, mijo?” Dr. Martinez said as she answered the phone, her voice shaded with concern.

“Mama, I know you might be busy, but Diego and I need to go to Museo El Cemí, and you were the only one I could think of calling for a ride. Can you take us? It is important, Mama.” Jose was speaking fast, his voice trembling.

“Mijo, give me ten minutes. Where are you now?” Dr. Martinez grabbed her purse, passing her receptionist. She looked at the woman and said, “Luisita, please reschedule my afternoon appointments. I’ve got a small family emergency.”

“Of course, Dr. Martinez. Don’t worry—your schedule was light this afternoon. Go take care of your family. I will make sure everything is all right here.” Luisita smiled as she handed Aurora her car keys.

“Diego and I are at the library,” Jose said, calming, reassured that his mother was on her way.

“Okay, mi amor. I’m on my way.” Dr. Martinez closed the car door and started the engine.

Diego waited for Jose to hang up, and then he put his arm around him and simply shared the space with him. He didn’t speak; he knew that his support communicated more than words would have. Jose leaned on Diego, understanding that although he hadn’t explained his agitation, it wasn’t necessary. Diego would simply be there for him, and that was what mattered.

Adriana sat quietly, the sweet smoke of tobacco filling the air. Milo was whispering prayers across from her, his fingers tapping a glass bowl of rainwater that rested in the center of the table. The rhythmic ring of the bowl drew Adriana deeper into herself.

Suddenly, she felt it. It started as a tickle in the center of her chest—the urge to laugh, not a laugh at a joke or something that had occurred to her as funny. No, a laugh of joy, as if her spirit had suddenly become free of all that weighed it down.

Then she heard it—the yip and howl of a wolf. The spirit wolf entered the room and chased its tail and hopped around, its joy evident in its motion. Then suddenly it wasn’t alone. A parade of Indian braves followed; after that, several gypsies, their castanets clicking in rhythm, the music of the paso doble faint in Adriana’s ear. Then came the Madamas, their brooms and dusters wielded with stern efficiency. And lastly, the African warriors—Congos, Bantu, Zulus.

And in the center of all this spiritual pageantry stood the very old Gypsy Madonna. Adriana heard the whisper of her name: Lágrima del Mar. Tear of the Sea. In that moment, she knew that this Gypsy was the captain of this court.

The wolf shifted, and there stood Grandfather Jumping Wolf. He smiled and winked at Adriana but did not speak. He gave way to the Madonna, who stood proud and erect, wearing her age as a shawl.

Aurora arrived, and Jose and Diego got in the car. Diego opened the passenger-side door for Jose to sit up front, but Jose shook his head and got in the back seat. Diego followed him, puzzled.

“Mama, I didn’t want to sit in Ayanita’s spot,” he said, winking at the Madama who was sitting next to his mother.

Diego looked over at Jose, a question forming in his mind.

“Yes, I can see spirits now,” Jose whispered quietly.

Jose could see a hundred questions form in Diego’s mind, but he also saw his friend resist the urge to blurt them all out at once. He watched Diego’s eyes narrow and could almost hear his voice saying,

You’ve got a lot of explaining to do when we’re alone.

As Dr. Martinez steered the car back onto the road and out of town, she checked in with her son.

“Mijo, what is so important at the museo that you needed to go now?”

“Mama, we needed some answers about the Taíno legends, and the museum’s curator is an expert. I know that it’s sudden, but it’s important,” Jose said, hoping his mother would understand and not ask too many questions.

“Okay, mijo. From the day you were born, I promised that I would walk the road with you no matter what. I’m here—whatever you need, no questions asked.” Dr. Martinez caught her son’s eyes through the reflection in the rearview mirror, hoping he felt the love and support she was giving him at that moment.

“Thank you, Mama. I love you,” Jose said, smiling.

Diego sat silently, his presence a physical thing—a rock, a foundation holding Jose up as they continued their journey toward answers to questions they still did not know how to ask.