Milo's Journey

Chapter 5

Milo rose an hour earlier than usual that Saturday, knowing he would be spending the day with Adriana. It made sense to finish his chores early and spend time at his altar with his cuadro espiritual before she arrived.

He finished milking the cows and cleaning their stalls, then opened the gate to the pasture. Cachita, as always, was the first one out. As she passed him, she nuzzled his ear.

“Cachita, you tease. You know I love you,” Milo said, giving her a gentle slap on the rump as she trotted past. She paused long enough to look back at him and let out a loud mooo.

Milo laughed. She had always been his favorite. He had raised her from a calf.

“Go on, Cachita. The ladies are waiting for you,” he said as she joined the others in the field.

Once the barn was quiet again, Milo walked to the back and entered his consultation room. He took his prayer book, sat before his altar, and began his prayers. As he invoked his guardian angel and spirit guides, the atmosphere shifted.

“Hello, old man,” Milo said with a smile.

Buenos días, mi caballo, Juan de Dios’s voice rang in his mind.

“Juan de Dios, how is my cuadro?” Milo asked, his eyes still closed.

Los muertos are here to serve, caballito, came the reply.

Milo smiled. “Juan, today I will need Estrella del Monte. Can you bring her forward for me?”

She will be here when you need her, Juan de Dios answered, his presence receding.

Milo continued praying, drawing strength from the familiar words.

Later, Milo sat on the front porch with a cup of herbal tea when he saw the SUV approaching up the road. He set the cup down and stepped into the yard, waiting as the vehicle pulled closer.

He felt the moment it crossed the farm’s protections. Twelve palo santo trees marked the boundary of the land, placed four to each cardinal direction. Beneath them, the resguardos he had prepared—bottles set at each point—hummed softly with contained energy. A good spiritualist never assumed people were wholly good. Experience taught that protection was not suspicion; it was wisdom.

The SUV stopped, and Adriana hopped out of the passenger side. A tall man in his forties emerged from the driver’s side and walked around the vehicle. Milo knew immediately this must be Adriana’s father.

Colonel Andrew Santana was broad-shouldered and solidly built, his casual jeans and T-shirt unable to hide the discipline of a military life. Despite his imposing frame, the lines around his eyes and mouth spoke of warmth and humor.

Adriana hugged Milo, then turned toward her father.

“Dad, this is Milo. Milo, this is my dad, Colonel Andrew Santana.”

“Mucho gusto, Colonel Santana,” Milo said, extending his hand.

“Mucho gusto, Milo,” the colonel replied. “My wife Elena says you have the gift and that you are well respected in the community. I believe, though I’m not gifted like my wife and daughter.”

As they shook hands, Milo felt a sudden surge of spiritual energy pass between them.

“You may not be gifted, Colonel,” Milo said quietly, his gaze unfocusing for a moment, “but you are well protected. Two soldiers walk with you—brothers, I believe. They have been with you since you were a child. Hector and Heriberto. Twins.”

The colonel’s eyes widened.

“Hector and Heriberto were my great-uncles. They were killed in World War II. My great-grandmother kept candles lit for them all her life. I still light candles for them in church whenever I can.”

“They loved your father deeply,” Milo said softly. “That love binds them to you now.”

Colonel Santana nodded, visibly moved. “Thank you, Milo. It’s comforting to know they’re still with me.”

He turned to Adriana. “I’ll leave you in Milo’s capable hands. I’ll be back at four-thirty.”

Adriana waved as the SUV disappeared down the road.

“Well,” Milo said, taking her hand, “let’s get started. I’ll introduce you to my cuadro espiritual.”

As they entered the barn, Adriana felt the atmosphere shift. The air grew heavier, pressing in on her chest until her breath caught.

“Be still,” Milo said softly. “She is a friend.”

The pressure lifted immediately. Adriana exhaled, feeling a gentle touch against her cheeks and hearing a whisper.

Welcome.

Milo led her to the back of the barn and into his consultation room.

An altar stood against the wall. Seven goblets of clear water were arranged—six in a circle, one at the center. A single red candle burned before them. To the right stood a large statue of an African warrior. Other figures—Indians, Conguitos, Gitanas, Arabs—lined the altar.

“This is my altar,” Milo said. “For a spiritualist, it is the base of their power—the bridge between us and the muertos. An altar can house guardian angels, principal guides, and protector spirits.”

“What about your ancestors?” Adriana asked.

Milo guided her to a smaller table beside the altar. A single white candle burned next to framed photographs. Adriana’s eyes lingered on one image: an older woman standing proudly in front of the house, stern yet warm.

“My Abuela Mireya,” Milo said. “She taught me how to use my gift. She still guides me, and I miss her.”

“Your mother didn’t teach you?” Adriana asked.

“My mother feared her gift,” Milo said quietly. “She renounced it the day I was born. That was the last time she saw the spirits—the day they chose me.”

They took seats at the consultation table.

“As a clairvoyant, you already see and sense the spirit world,” Milo began. “Many spiritualists never develop that ability and must rely on intuition alone. But you have something more. You can channel spirits.”

Adriana’s hands tightened in her lap.

“To do that safely,” Milo continued, “you must first understand your cuadro espiritual—the spirits who walk with you. A trance medium becomes vulnerable. For a brief moment, they step aside and allow a spirit to occupy their body.”

Adriana swallowed. “You mean… possession?”

“Yes,” Milo said gently. “A benign form of possession practiced for generations. That is what I will teach you—but carefully, and in time.”

He lit a small candle and poured rainwater into the bowl between them.

“First,” he said, meeting her eyes, “we learn who walks with you.”