Veiled

by Silvina Niccum

  “The priest will find a way of compensating for that. Besides, she is very religious, she would consider it an honor to have her son become a priest.”

  “Oh, this is terrible.” I began to pace the room. This was not how it was supposed to happen. I didn’t feel bad just for Celeste and Max either, I was feeling bad for all of us. What cruel twists would life throw at us? What if we ended up living right next door from our soul mates, but we still could not end up together? That would be the cruelest thing of all.

  “Stop, Tess,” Leo demanded with authority. “You worry too much.”

  I looked at him bewildered.

  “I can read thoughts too, remember?” Leo said.

  “I know…it’s just…”

  “Listen, Tess, we have to look at the situation in the long term.” He peered into my eyes, and continued once he saw that I was ready to listen. “Celeste is ten years younger. She will not be eligible to marry for at least fifteen years. In that time, Max could get an education and become someone who Celeste would respect and look up to. Let’s say…her priest.”

  “Oh…you are good,” I said with admiration. “But Max is a very serious guy, he may not go back on his vows that easily.”

  “I know. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But we do have to take into account the fact that they have loved each other for a long time, which has got to be hard to ignore. Besides, she will be hard to ignore,” he added with a wink.

  Leo and I got to work on our scheming right away. We analyzed all the possible scenarios and we settled on the one where Max got an education. After all, he would never learn any other languages if he didn’t get an education, and he had to find a way to develop his Gift of Tongues. An education as a priest would give him access to all the languages he would want to learn and more.

  Meanwhile, Celeste grew rapidly—being who she was she managed to charm even her self-centered parents. By the time she was eight, Celeste knew exactly how to work her parents to get anything she wanted. I worried for her, though. I could see how this life could spoil her and turn her into a self-centered woman, just like her mother, and that was not the Celeste I knew and loved. As her Guardian Angel I wanted to protect her from this possible outcome, but it was up to her to listen to me, and that was the tricky part.

  To compensate for this, I made it a habit to talk to her every day, after she fell asleep. I hoped that my words might be heard in her subconscious mind, and she would dream of the things I talked to her about. Ester, her nanny, gave me the idea early on. She would often say to Celeste when she put her to bed, “Que sueñes con los angelitos”, dream with the angels. So I gave her dreams, dreams of the heaven that she had just left. I would tell her about all the fun we had together—exploring other worlds, looking at the distant stars, training with the Cherubs, flying on the back of a Seraph named Dayspring, and helping other people.

  I could tell she was listening, I could read her mind, and when she was awake she would play that she was an angel and she even named a toy horse Dayspring.

  I continued to influence her dreams as she grew up. I told her all about Max and who he was, and what he looked like. I told her about how she rescued him from the Cast-outs and how he could speak a bunch of different languages. Any new information I got on Max, I would pass it on to her and she would dream about it.

  I was happy with her progress, though I thought she was a bit too spoiled for her own good, but it couldn’t be helped. Her parents were overindulgent and there was nothing I could do about that. Celeste got the best of everything, including a private education. She was a good student and caught on quickly to new concepts, but her passion was Botany, and drawing was her quest. She would practically inhale any book on those two topics and though she didn’t have a natural talent for drawing, she enjoyed the task immensely, and was determined to override her lack of talent with practice.

  Her favorite pastime was the cultivation and grafting of roses. It wasn’t an employ that Doña Rosa approved, so Celeste had to enlist the help of the Ester and the gardener to do this. It was a well orchestrated sham that kept everyone happy.

  Don Marco didn’t even know that his daughter liked roses or drawing and even if he was informed about it, he would have dismissed it as an insignificant detail.

  Life went on smoothly for Celeste until she turned fourteen. Doña Rosa decided to inform her husband that Celeste should have a beau in time for their daughter’s Quinceañera party. And as it was in most cases, this beau was to be promised to her as her future husband.

  Don Marco thought about this task purely from a business perspective, not a sentimental one. He wanted to make a good match, not for Celeste, but for himself. Whoever married Celeste would get his plantation and mill, complete with a collection of valuable jewels that dated all the way back to the Colonization of America.

  I tried to influence his thoughts, but he was as stubborn as a mule. Besides, he didn’t know Max yet and so my suggestions made no sense to him at all. To make matters worse Don Marco’s guardian angel was a disembodied spirit who was never around and could not hear me either.

  I called Leo and brought him up to speed on the new developments on Celeste’s life. He in turn let me know that Max was about to finish his studies and get a parish of his own and Leo was working on getting him assigned to Celeste’s town.

  “All we can do now, Tess, is wait to see who they choose for her, and run him off. Is she very eager to have a boyfriend?” Leo asked.

  “No, she doesn’t seem to be. All she thinks about are roses and birds.”

  “Good, she needs to stay that way as long as possible.” He paused for a moment, we were talking through the calling stones, but somehow I could still tell that he was smiling when he added, “We may have to get our hands dirty for this one. Are you up to it, Tess?”

  “Get our hands dirty? What do you mean?” His sinister tone of voice worried me a little.

  “You know…scare away whoever Don Marco chooses. Or make him look bad—whatever it takes.”

  “Oh…well yes, of course. I’m in, Besides, she would do it for me.”

  This, I must admit, marked the beginning of my not-so-angelic duties. I wanted to feel guilty about spying on Don Marco and Doña Rosa, but I never could. I followed them around and tried to get as much information from them as possible. Don Marco was a creature of habit. His day followed a strict schedule of meals and meetings that culminated with him sitting in his study with a glass of wine and the newspaper. Every Sunday evening he had the town’s priest and one more guest to dinner, and that was the extent of his social life. That’s why I got suspicious when one Sunday, he invited his estranged brother and his wife to dinner, instead of the priest.

  Mateo was Don Marco’s younger brother, who had been disowned due to his disgraceful marriage to a girl with no family or money. But the marriage had yielded a son who was said to be in the Spanish Armada, and for lack of a better suitor, Don Marco decided to put differences aside and meet this nephew of his.

  The evening turned out to be stiff and quiet. The conversation never strayed from the light subjects of children and weather. Don Marco was very disappointed when his nephew didn’t show up to the dinner because he was currently away on Armada duties. But the proud parents, sniffing money, had no trouble answering all the questions that Don Marco asked about their son. It was with forced cordiality that Don Marco and Doña Rosa shook hands with their relatives after the meal, and eagerly asked to be immediately informed of Ricardo’s return from his training in the Armada.

  “Do you think they want Ricardo to marry their daughter?” Mateo’s wife asked her husband as they were leaving the estancia.

  “Yes…he’ll get it all back for us, just wait and see,” Mateo said with relish. “Life has a way of making things even, doesn’t it?” he added greedily.

  Now I was panicking. How did Celeste end up with this bunch as her relatives? Ricardo? I hoped against all hope it wasn’t the same Richard th
at managed to temporarily charm Celeste back in heaven. Sure…the spell didn’t last long, but here it would be different—she was young, he was not. Oh…this could be disastrous!

  I passed the news on to Leo, who in turn went about trying to locate Ricardo and find out more about him. Now that Max was studying to be a priest, he didn’t need to be watched over all the time, so Leo had more free time on his hands.

  It didn’t take Leo that long to get information on Ricardo. Just a few days later, he stormed through Celeste’s bedroom door and told me the news.

  “It’s Richard!” Leo said with a smile.

  “And why are you smiling? This is terrible news!”

  “He is still just as deceived as he’s always been about how great he is.” Leo was laughing now. “Spirits just don’t change that much.” He shook his head “Just because they get a body, it doesn’t change a thing about who they really are.”

  I rolled my eyes. I simply could not stand this guy, and here he was again, popping up into Celeste’s life uninvited.

  “Um, he was invited.” Leo corrected my thoughts with a smug look. “Celeste’s parents are inviting him.”

  “I fail to see the joke,” I said sourly.

  Leo’s smile faded too. “I know I have a warped sense of humor, but I also have an idea,” he said and he started pacing back and forth. “We could find him a pretty lady and get them to marry before Celeste is of age,” he suggested cunningly.

  “It’s worth a try. How do we know who he would like?” I said, shedding my scruples.

  “You leave it up to me, this is my specialty.” Leo flashed a wry look my way.

  “You have a specialty? Leo, if I didn’t know you better I would peg you for a Fallen Angel. You can be quite devious when you want to.”

  He smiled, made a bow, and flew out the window. I chuckled. Leo seemed to be an open book at first, but behind the playful smile and bright eyes, were several intricate layers of contradictions. He appeared to be always joking, but in fact he was very serious. He appeared to want to follow the rules, but he would bend and break them without a second thought if he thought they got in his way. But in spite of all this, I liked him and I trusted him.

  Two months went by without a single word from Leo. Meanwhile, Ricardo sat in full uniform, looking strikingly handsome right here in Don Marco’s dining room. He had been invited for lunch, a very unusual thing for Don Marco to do, since he never liked to stray from his routine.

  Celeste had been introduced to Ricardo and she was her usual cheerful, friendly self. Thankfully, I didn’t notice any romantic interest on her part, but Ricardo was as charming and playful with her as his best acting skills would allow him to be. He teased her in a friendly manner, and she giggled a great deal, like any fourteen year old would when being courted by a twenty-two year old man. He pretended to be interested in her hobbies and even walked around the garden with her. She talked the whole time about her roses, he nodded and put in the appropriate comments when they were needed, but anyone watching would have been able to see that he didn’t hear a single word. His mind was preoccupied with many other thoughts.

  His thoughts were hideously boring to me, all the stuff I would have expected to read in his mind—his father’s admonition to secure a marriage arrangement with Celeste, his constant daydreaming about having this house all to himself, the gambling debts, and then…there! An Italian actress named Anabella, whom he had the fortune of meeting just before she left Madrid. I couldn’t be sure, but I suspected that this last thought was Leo’s handy work.

  Ricardo had played his part well at the DeLeon’s plantation. So when he left, Don Marco had made up his mind about him. “Ricardo is as good as any,” he thought, “but with the added benefit of being a DeLeon.” The mere thought of losing the family name was grotesque to him.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 27

  The following week, Ricardo was invited back and this time I was privileged to hear all of his thoughts on his budding romance with Anabella. Things had apparently progressed in the week of his absence from the DeLeon estancia, and Ricardo just couldn’t believe his good luck.

  In spite of how all-consuming his thoughts were for Anabella, he managed to impress both Doña Rosa and Don Marco, to the extent of having an open door invitation to the home. Of this he made full use, and pretty soon he spent all the time he had away from Anabella, over at the DeLeon home. He was even given one of the guest rooms as his own.

  I had to admit that Celeste and Ricardo made a handsome couple at her fifteenth birthday party. He was dressed in his uniform and she had on a beautiful soft pink dress that made her look too grown up. If I had had substance I would have wrung Ricardo’s neck for the thoughts he was having about her. He was the basest of persons and Celeste had not realized it yet. I felt like we were trapped in a vicious circle—just like in heaven, she was falling for him. I would have to make sure she saw through him before it got too late.

  “Wow, she looks beautiful,” Leo said while we watched the Quinceanera party.

  “Yeah, I know,” I said bitterly.

  “Oh,” Was Leo’s curt reply to Ricardo’s last thought.

  “Yeah…he is vile,” I retorted.

  Leo shook his head and tried to forget Ricardo’s last thought. “Well…I did it!” Leo changed the subject.

  “Did what?”

  “Max is finally coming.”

  “What, here?”

  “Yep, here to Leon,” he said with pride.

  “Wow. You are good. How did you pull that off?”

  “Don’t ask questions, just thank me,” he said as he waved a dismissive hand in front of me.

  “OK. No questions, if you insist. But how will I learn to get things done, if you don’t tell me?”

  “Trust me. You don’t want to know how I get things done.” He smiled to himself and blocked all his thoughts. “Suffice it to say that Max is done with his studies, and his first assignment is to take over for whoever is here, and to conduct Mass for the good people of this town.”

  As soon as Max took over for the old pastor, every seat at church got filled during Sunday mass. Women turned devout Christians and attended church several times a week to light candles, repent and kneel on the pews for hours until they got a glimpse of Max.

  He was, after all, young in his mid twenties, strong built, and good looking—though not too strikingly so. He had dark brown hair, thick dark eyebrows, a straight prominent nose and intelligent dark chocolate eyes. He had a look of goodness about him and he seemed to be completely oblivious to the upheaval he was creating in the town. He literally walked with a book in front of his nose, everywhere he went, and most of the books were in a different language.

  One of his first priorities was to set up a library, he felt very strongly about education, and from personal experience he wanted education to be available to anyone who sought it. “Knowledge is light,” he would often preach from the pulpit, his sermons being in plain Spanish and not Latin like his predecessor’s were.

  When asked by a group of men why his Mass was so full now, he calmly admitted that is was due to one simple fact.

  “No use in teaching in a dead language. That only means the message is dead as well,” he would explain in a sagely manner.

  The men in town were still unsure about how to regard him. They suspected, of course, that his sermons were not the only reason why their women flocked to church so often, but on the other hand his age and strong build proved to be a great help to them as well. Max was not above hard labor, and would often drop whatever he was doing to lend a hand, never asking if help was needed.

  For this reason Don Marco liked him. “He can’t help his age, a priest has to start being a priest at some point. And this one is quite useful, not like the last one that sat in his cozy chapel all day and did nothing for the people,” he said, forgetting the fact that the old priest had been an honored guest at his house many times. But now it was Max’s turn to be a guest
of honor at the DeLeon household on Sunday evenings—along with Ricardo.

  I used these dinners as my chance to point out the differences between the two to Celeste. I hovered over her as she ate. The conversation almost never included her, so she sat silent and listened to me.

  “He is hiding something from you,” I would warn her when Ricardo would speak. “He is so arrogant and full of himself,” I pointed out, after he would make a comment that aggrandized himself. These type of comments were so frequent though, that I could hardly point this out to her every time. But I could tell that she was getting the point when I caught her rolling her eyes after one such comment from Ricardo.

  Max on the contrary, listened a great deal more than he talked. This made him look all the more interesting when he did speak—even Don Marco paused to listen to his comments and regarded them of much more value than he did Ricardo’s.

  At first Ricardo treated Max with the contempt of one who thinks himself free and fortunate, but after the third dinner they shared, Ricardo started to envy Max. He envied the respect that Max had earned in such a short period of time, and he envied the quiet, peaceful, uncomplicated existence that he seemed to have. He also resented the way that the DeLeon family treated him, Celeste included. And feared for his position. His dealings in the town of Leon were getting a bit complicated for him.

  During the fights he often had with Anabella, Ricardo sought comfort in the arms of a couple of the other girls from the town. But now one of them claimed to be expecting a child—his child. He feared that rumor of this would reach Don Marco’s ears, and ruin his prospects with the plantation…and Celeste. So right after dinner, he announced, that he had to take care of some impending business in Madrid that could not be put off any longer. He figured that his absence might subdue any rumors—or at the very least, he would not have to face that girl again.