Cave of Little Faces. Aída Besançon Spencer

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      In the very front of the property, tending the gate that was the main access behind the large wall that sealed the entire compound in, was a large cabaña for the family that served Uncle Sol as his cooks, housekeepers, drivers, gardeners, gatekeepers, and administrators who oversaw the entire property, its maintenance and repair. They were completely devoted to “Don Inti.” The home he had built for them was very comfortable. They had their own porch and their own little version of a dining and living room combination. Their kitchen was in the back of the cabaña facing the main kitchen so they could cook in whichever one they wished, depending on whether guests were present. The laundry room to the left of their kitchen comprised the rest of the cabaña’s back area and served both houses. Three bedrooms and baths off a common hallway made a private space for the parents and their children to live. They loved the home that Uncle Sol had himself designed for them. To the left of the cabaña they had their own small herb and vegetable garden, and the fruit trees, spread around the whole property, served them with coconuts and other edibles that survived in a shoreline climate.

      All in all, Las Olas del Sol, “The Waves of the Sun,” was a sanctuary well beloved by all who came to find warmth and encouragement there.

      As Jo and her family stopped their car before the great metal gate, she felt so bereft. This was the first time she had ever come to “Las Olas” without her uncle’s warm welcome—and not even her parents were with her. She and the children were now on their own.

      Ruby idled the rental car and blared the horn. They heard no immediate sound, so she leaned on it, as Danny covered her ears, Ben grinned, and she only stopped when Jo cried out, “Rube, that’s enough!”

      “I can go bang on the gate,” Ben offered.

      “Wait,” said Jo. “They’re very old now. We need to show a little patience.”

      “Maybe they’re not here,” snapped Ruby. Her hand was hovering above the horn.

      “They are always here,” replied Jo. And then a scraping sound began. First, a quivering of the metal gate, then the screeching of movement as the gate slowly, painfully lurched open, infinitesimally space by space, until a grey-haired man wedged his body in between it and the wall frame and walked it open enough to allow Ruby to edge in the car.

      They drove inside and everybody but Ruby piled out.

      “Don Ramón,” said Jo and threw her arms around him.

      “¡Querida!” he murmured, and hugged her to him as if she were his own daughter. “Such a sad time. I am so, so sorry for your loss—for all of our loss. Your uncle was a guiding light for us. Already we miss him so.”

      “I was thinking as we drove up,” said Jo, “’Las Olas del Sol,’ it is so much a part of him—it will be so different without him.”

      “Yes, as if the sun were eclipsed from the sky. All of us feel it here, but a ‘sun’ will shine again. It always has.” And then he added something that Jo would think about later—again and again. “And, Josefina, you are here now to bring back that light.” Then, he paused and looked to the others who were standing awkwardly at the car, a bit nonplussed by this display of emotion. “Ah, you are welcome all! We did not know that you would come.”

      “Of course, we’d come,” snapped Ruby, leaning out the driver’s window. “He was our uncle, too!”

      “Naturally, naturally,” soothed the older man. “We should never have thought otherwise. Always, you are—all of you—welcome. You are family.” And they were mollified.

      He looked them over. “Every time, more beautiful, Daniela—you are like the daylily in the garden, lovely from morning to night!” Daniela simpered.

      “Ben, you are the strong cane stalk, capable of so much.”

      “Yeah, I got a system that might make us all rich!” agreed Ben and looked like he was about to embark on explaining it before Ruby’s commanding voice sunk that idea. “Where shall I put the car?”

      “Ah, Ruby—the rose—even your thorns are useful! Please, put it in your uncle’s own slot. Do you know it?”

      “Of course,” shot back Ruby and prepared to barrel off.

      “Wait for us!” cried Daniela.” I can’t walk in these heels.”

      “Yeah,” added Ben. “I’m beat after the trip.”

      Don Ramón paused and looked to Jo.

      “I’m fine,” said Jo quickly. “You three go ahead. I want to stop and see Doña Lucia—and maybe if either of the boys are home—Tamaya is married, isn’t she?”

      “Yes, yes,” said Don Ramón, delighted.

      “And she has a baby,” recalled Jo.

      “She does indeed. And thank you so much for the lovely gift and sweet card that you sent. It was so thoughtful of you and it helped very much.”

      “It was from all of us,” Jo faltered, “Danny, Ben, Ruby.”

      “Of course, of course,” agreed Don Ramón, diplomatically, “And now you must see my wife, who is eagerly waiting to greet you.”

      “How is Doña Lucia?”

      “She is well, Josefina. She is over in the main house. She has so much to supervise in the preparation for the dignitaries—we both do. They will be coming from all the tribal centers—Borinken, Nueva York, Kuva. They will be coming soon—the delegates for the ‘passing and passing on’ celebration. You are ready, Querida?”

      Jo looked at him baffled. “Ready for what?”

      “You have spoken to Señor Cueva de Piedra?”

      “The lawyer? No. I received a letter from him, but we didn’t speak. In fact, we’ve just arrived. We came here right from the airport. Dad and Mom said they would meet us or send someone, but they didn’t. I’m worried about them. Are they all right?”

      “Yes, of course. YaYa has not heaped sorrow upon sorrow. They are safe, but something has happened—not to them directly—but they have gone to the mountain.”

      “The mountain?” said Jo.

      “Yes.”

      “Don Ramón, all of my life, when I’ve come here since I was a little girl, my parents and Uncle Sol would leave us and go to the mountain. They would be there while we stayed with you and your children here. I’ve always been puzzled by it—why to ‘the mountain’? Uncle Sol would take me out onto the mountains to walk and talk, but—is that what they would do for a month? Walk and talk on the mountains?”

      “No, Josefina. You are very wise. That is not exactly what they would do.”

      “So, what would they do on the mountain?”

      “Nothing.”

      “Nothing?”

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