PART 2
Felipe sat slumped in the carved mahogany chair next to his bed. His rosary dangled from his fingertips as he gazed down at it and sighed. The late-afternoon sunbeams formed a square of light on the Oriental carpet. It would be dark in another hour.
I love my mamá and papá, he told himself fiercely, for the umpteenth time. I do! He turned his gaze from the rosary to the bright-blue satin bedspread and the plump linen pillows.
Six days had gone by since Don Manuel de Santiago had arrived. During that time, the de la Vegas had met with him repeatedly; at the same time, they had made plans and preparations for Felipe's fiesta. Felipe's emotions had seesawed from joy at the impending adoption to feelings of grief and guilt. Try though he did, he couldn't stop feeling that, by being so happy, he was betraying the memory of his parents. Surely, if they had any knowledge of earthly events, they were disappointed in him now.
He ran his fingers over the well-worn wooden beads. "Take care of my rosary, Felipe." The disembodied voice Felipe had heard in his mind's ear on countless occasions rang in it, once more. "It's yours, now. Mi madre gave it to me when she died, and her mother gave it to her."
I know, Felipe thought, dully. You taught me to use it!
"Now, I'm givin' it to you," the disembodied voice went on. "Pray with it every day, just like I taught you. When you die, give it to your own child. It belongs to you now, son, so take good care of it. Whatever happens, go to church and be a good boy. Promise?"
Felipe clutched the rosary tightly in his hands. He had promised, of course. And ever since, he had kept that promise faithfully.
She was the best mother in the world, Felipe thought, scratching his forearm. Why'd she have to die?
Vague images floated through the young boy's mind: a faceless woman with long, brown hair kneeling before a family altar, holding that same rosary...the woman kneeling on a dirt floor in front of a comal, grinding corn...the same woman walking with a very small Felipe to town, leading a dark-brown burro laden with straw items.
Suddenly, the banging of his bedroom door startled him, causing the images to disappear from his memory. Before he had time to react, Miguel raced into Felipe's bedroom.
"Felipe, Don Diego and Don Alejandro want you in the patio," he said. "We're makin' decorations for the fiesta, and they want you to help."
Nodding, Felipe followed him to the patio, where he found Don Diego and Don Alejandro waiting for him at the table. For the next hour, he helped Miguel and the de la Vegas make paper lanterns and table decorations.
"Well, Felipe, tomorrow's your big day." Don Alejandro chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair. "It's been six days, now, since the governor's magistrate arrived. I saw Don Manuel an hour ago, and he told me the papers are ready to sign. He will come to the hacienda tomorrow afternoon, after siesta. With Señorita Escalante."
Don Diego nodded. "The tailor told me that your new clothes will be delivered tomorrow morning. The servants will unpack them in your new room." Beaming, he rubbed his hands together in evident anticipation.
Felipe put down the paper lantern he was folding. New room?
Don Diego chuckled at the look on the boy's face. "You're going to have a suite of rooms, amigo." He reached across the table to pat Felipe's hand. "A bedroom, a sitting room, a dressing room, and a bathing room. Just as my father and I each have."
Don Alejandro nodded. "New room, new clothes, the works! And the fiesta will be held, tomorrow evening. From then on, my boy, you will eat with us in the dining room."
Felipe leaned back in his chair to ponder what the de la Vegas had just told him. For a moment, he rubbed the back of his neck as he anticipated what lay ahead of him. Without another word, the four of them went back to their task.
That night, as Felipe slept, his father stood accusingly before him in a nightmare. "How dare you!" the faceless, nameless man berated him. "Your mamá and I died tryin' to save you, and this is the thanks we get! You lettin' these criollos take our place like this!" He clenched his fists as he spoke.
The two of them stood in the middle of the battlefield, where Felipe's parents had, in fact, died trying to get their son to safety. Tears welled up in Felipe's eyes. "Please don't be mad at me, Papá," he begged. "I love them, but I love you, too."
"Then why are you lettin' them adopt you?!" The man raised his voice in his rage. "And why are you bein' so happy about it?!"
"Felipe! Wake up."
"Please don't be mad!" Felipe cried. "I love my mamá, and I love you! I swear I do!"
"Felipe! Wake up! You're dreaming."
Felipe blinked. His faceless, harsh father had disappeared, and so had the battlefield. In its place was his now-darkened bedroom, and the darkened features of Don Diego, perched on the edge of the servant boy's bed. Without a word, he took Felipe into his arms.
"Shh. It's all right." The handsome caballero's kind, gentle voice soothed Felipe as Diego clasped his boy against his chest. "You're just having a bad dream, amigo. You're safe, now." The mattress sagged underneath them as Diego rocked the boy in his arms and whispered soothingly.
When Diego finally let go, Felipe leaned back and laid his head on the soft pillows. "Something's been troubling you all week," Diego said. "My father and I have both noticed it. Why don't you tell me what it is?" He ran his index finger along the outlines of Felipe's face as he spoke.
Slowly, hesitantly, Felipe described his dream. Don Diego watched his signs without comment until Felipe had finished.
Diego brushed a stray hair out of Felipe's eyes. "I don't have to ask you if you're happy about the adoption," he said. "I can see it in your eyes whenever the subject comes up. You feel guilty for being so happy, don't you?" Reluctantly, Felipe nodded. "You feel you're betraying your parents' memory." Felipe nodded again, gazing at the caballero's hands.
Don Diego leaned forward. He cupped his fingers underneath Felipe's chin and raised it till Felipe's eyes met Diego's. "Felipe, listen to me. The love you have for your parents is irreplacable. There will always be a very special compartment in your heart for them. Your affection for us will never change that."
He paused for a moment, evidently letting Felipe think about what he had just said. "My father and I have told you many stories about my mother." Felipe nodded. "We will both love her and miss her until the day we die. Yet, if Father were to marry again, we would both love my stepmother and make a place for her in our hearts. Neither of us would cease to cherish the memory of my dear mother just because we loved my stepmother."
Felipe lay stock-still, as the truth of Don Diego's words exploded in his heart. Don Diego's right, he thought.
The boy smiled gratefully. A huge weight had been lifted from his heart. Relief spread across Diego's face.
"You know, Felipe," he said, softly, "if your mother could see you now, she'd be proud of you. She'd be most proud to see the fine young man her dear son has grown into." He smiled affectionately as he spoke.
Don Diego rose to his feet. "All right, my friend, you'd better get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow, and I don't want you listless and bleary-eyed!" He bent over to hug the boy. "Just think, Felipe! By this time, tomorrow night, I'll be calling you 'son.'"
Beaming, Felipe returned the hug, and Diego kissed his forehead. As the caballero left the room, Felipe snuggled under the soft bedcovers and closed his eyes. Within minutes, he was fast asleep.
END OF PART 2