For days, they crisscrossed the ghostly countryside that was left after the recent battles. Smoking ruins, craters, countless corpses, blackened fields and hardly any living people was what they encountered.

"San Carlos," Salvador had muttered. "It could be anywhere within a twenty mile radius or more."

"That's why we need to keep a close eye on Felipe," Diego said. "He's bound to react if he recognizes something."

"If he recognizes anything at all," was Salvador's opinion. "How can you expect a little boy like that to recognize his home in these spooky ruins?"

But on and on they went, from one near ghosttown to another. Anyone they met got the question if they recognized the boy Felipe. Nobody did, and the subsequent directions to San Carlos tended to be confusing and highly contradictory. It didn't seem to be a well-known pueblo.

Felipe himself seemed to have regained some of his equilibrium. He now rode with Diego facing front, and he had mostly stopped literally clinging to the young caballero. Still, he wouldn't let him out of his sight, and whenever they dismounted, he was anxious to either have Diego carry him, or at the very least hold his hand like grim death. However, whether they slept in the open air or under an occasional steady roof, his nightmares continued to plague him, and no one but Diego was able to calm him down.

"The way you saved him from amidst a field full of dead bodies, he probably sees you as his guardian angel," Salvador teased.

Diego's answer was a sad smile. "I just want to make sure he'll be alright. If his handicaps turn out to be permanent, plus having no parents, plus those horrid memories... His life sure won't be easy. I just want to make sure it won't be any more difficult than strictly necessary."

Salvador nodded. "Don't worry. I understand, Don Diego. He's a sweet kid, and one who's had more than his share of misery already. And I think you're doing a fine job in comforting him. And then the way you two communicate...!"

His communication with Felipe was something that – if he was really honest with himself – actually fascinated Diego. At a certain point the boy had given up trying to make himself understood by talking, and now, whenever there was a moment's opportunity, the two of them were trying to communicate through a steadily growing repertoire of signs and gestures. Ostensibly, he took the trouble in order to give Felipe a means of communication with whomever he was going to end up living. But a definite secondary motive was his own curiosity as to how far he could go in expanding Felipe's sign vocabulary. Because for every word that had an obvious gesture, there were a handful that were too complex or too abstract for a logical and easily comprehensible sign.

But despite his peasant background, Felipe obviously was an intelligent kid, and by frequently communicating with Diego, his sign vocabulary expanded by leaps and bounds every day.

It was about a week after they started their quest for San Carlos that one night when they had finished their supper of cold enchiladas, Felipe crawled onto Diego's lap. Diego smiled at him, but the boy kept looking at him with a rather miserable expression on his face.

"What is wrong, Felipe?"

Felipe signed something, and Diego's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "When are we going to my home? To Los Angeles, you mean?" He even forgot to accompany his words with signs, but Felipe seemed to understand anyway, for he nodded miserably.

Diego stared at him for a moment before venturing to explain in words and gestures. "Felipe, your home is here. Even if mamà and papà are dead, there must be someone who is looking for you. Someone who loves you. And we are trying to find him."

Felipe brushed at his eyes before making a reply.

"You want to go to..." Diego had to puzzle a moment to interpret the gesture the boy was making. "You want to go to Los Angeles?"

Felipe nodded, and signed some more.

"You want to go to mamà and papà. In Los Angeles?! Felipe..." Diego rubbed his arm a bit in comfort. "Your mamà and papà are dead. And when you are dead, you go up to heaven."

Felipe nodded with obvious emphasis, and once more he drew a circle around the top of his head and mimed having large wings.

"I think he's talking about angels – not the pueblo de Los Angeles," Salvador quietly intervened.

"You mean..." Diego tried to go back over their conversation, but Felipe required his attention with more signing. "You want to come with me to my home... in heaven with the angels... so you can be with papà and mamà..."

There wasn't much that could render the more than eloquent Diego de la Vega speechless.

But this definitely did.

And when he finally let go of his breath and became aware of the misery and the expectation in Felipe's eyes, he did the only thing he could think of: he pulled the boy against his chest and hugged him tight.

Madre de Dios, the boy thought he was an actual angel?! How was he going to talk himself out of this with nothing but a few gestures?

But he had to try... So he let go of Felipe, took a deep breath and began, "Felipe, I am just like you, and just like señor Salvador. And just like your mamà and papà. I am not an angel."

Felipe's expression turned stubborn and he signed something back.

"But I said my home is with the angels in heaven?" Diego translated. He shook his head. "No, the name of my home is Los Angeles. Diego. Felipe. Salvador." He went through the same routine as when he had tried to find out the name of Felipe's hometown, and quickly sketched a few houses in the sand. "San Carlos." And another few houses some distance away. "Los Angeles. Los Angeles is a pueblo."

Felipe nodded, and pointed to the sky again.

"No, it's not in heaven." Diego rubbed his face in frustration. "How am I going to explain this?"

"Just try again," Salvador suggested.

Alright then. "Felipe, I am not an angel. And señor Salvador is no angel either. We are just like you." How on earth could you convey the word 'human' in signs? Especially when your discussion partner was already convinced you were way beyond human?

And indeed. "But your home is with the angels," Felipe insisted.

"No, it's not." Diego heaved a sigh. "I believe it's the prepositions that are causing the problem," he said in an aside to Salvador. "We'll have to develop some signs for those, too." And to Felipe, "Your name" – suddenly he found a sign for 'name', and Felipe seemed to understand – "is Felipe. The name of your pueblo," he pointed to the houses in the sand, "is San Carlos. Your name is not San Carlos. Right?"

Felipe nodded, and pointed at himself. "Felipe," he mouthed, using the sign for 'name' that Diego had just invented.

"Yes. Your name is Felipe. You are not San Carlos."

Felipe agreed.

"My name is Diego. His name is Salvador. The name of our pueblo is Los Angeles. Los Angeles is the name of our pueblo. But I am not an angel. And señor Salvador is no angel either."

He seemed to have gotten through to Felipe at last – the boy glanced uncertainly back and forth between him and Salvador. Hesitantly, he started to sign a question, halted, and then signed it anyway, finishing with a pat on the ground.

"Yes, Los Angeles is the name of a pueblo here on earth. And there are no angels living there," Diego replied.

Another question.

"Then why did we come looking for you? We didn't. We just found you. We just saw you sitting there under that tree, all alone, with lots of dead soldiers around you. You looked so sad, and so lost. We just wanted to help you. To take you home to your family."

"But mamà and papà are in heaven!" Felipe signed bewildered.

"Yes." Diego sighed. "And unfortunately, that is the one place I can't take you." Sadly, he rubbed the boy's leg. "I'm sorry, Felipe."

The look the boy gave him cut deep. On the brink of tears, those dark eyes were pools of betrayal, reproach and grief. And without another word or gesture, little Felipe crawled a few meters away to sit by himself, his arms around his knees, but making sure not to leave his companions out of sight.

Diego bit his lip and glanced at Salvador with an unspoken question in his eyes.

"Just let him be," the older man quietly advised. "Keep an eye on him, but let him be for now."

"But... I feel so guilty," Diego choked out. "To think he only came with us because he thought we were angels...!"

Salvador let out a sigh. "I know I've been joking about him seeing you as his guardian angel, but... Don Diego, in the circumstances we found him, the boy would have gone with anyone who offered him the mere semblance of a refuge. He could have done a lot worse in that matter. And if you hadn't found him, or if you had left him there, chances are considerable that he would have been dead by now."

"Obviously, that is just what he wants," Diego muttered.

Salvador smiled a little. "As did you when your mother had just died. Remember?"

Diego made no reply, but he knew it was true.

"The boy is grieving, Don Diego. We'll probably never know what made him think we were angels, but I doubt that his trust in you is so shaken that he'd prefer to face the hell around him alone. Without your comforting presence at his side."

Nothing more was said on the subject, and to Diego's utter relief, when they started to get ready for the night, Felipe came back to him to curl up against his chest as usual. Diego carefully wrapped him in his warm cape, and held him tight without a word.

It was the first night that Felipe literally cried himself to sleep.

And the first night that Diego felt utterly helpless trying to comfort him.

It was the ninth day of their quest for the pueblo of San Carlos that Diego and Salvador upon entering the next semi ghosttown suddenly held in their horses and glanced at each other. The sudden change caused Felipe, too, to look up at Diego with an inquiring gesture.

"Children," Diego replied using the appropriate sign. "I hear children. Lots of children."

Felipe looked about, and as the two horses slowly went into motion again, all three of them scanned the nearly destroyed pueblo for the source of the sound.

It turned out to be coming from the half burnt down mission and its devastated surrounding garden. The young caballero and his servant brought their horses to a halt in front of it, and tethered them to a low hanging branch. A whole group of children immediately surrounded them, and two or three ran off inside, calling, "Padre Juan, there is a new boy!"

Felipe looked rather panicky around, holding on to Diego's jacket for dear life, and as soon as Esperanza was tied, he stretched out his arms in request to be lifted up in his arms.

Diego complied without comment, and felt Felipe burying his face in his neck. Then, with the children crowding around them, he and Salvador made their way over to the door, where a harried looking padre just appeared.

"Yes, my son? How can I help you?"

Diego caught his compassionate, yet resigned glance as he looked at Felipe, and he cleared his throat. "Buenos dias, padre. We um... we heard all those children's voices, and we wondered if perhaps you have an orphanage here?"

The padre sighed. "More or less, yes. The recent battles have left so many orphans – how could I turn them away? But they're sleeping on the pews, and even in between them, and food is scarce. I'm doing the best I can, but..." A sigh. "I can only pray that the good Lord will have mercy on these poor children, and send us some food soon."

Diego swallowed with difficulty, and glanced at Salvador. "We found this boy all alone on a battlefield. His name is Felipe and he is from a pueblo called San Carlos. His parents are dead, but we're looking for relatives. Do you recognize him perhaps?"

The padre tried to get a look at Felipe's face, but the boy desperately clung to Diego, hiding his face in his neck.

"Felipe." Diego rubbed his back to reassure him. "Look at the padre, please."

It took some doing, but in the end, the padre caught a glimpse of Felipe's face. And shook his head. "No. I'm sorry, I don't recall ever having seen the boy." He sighed. "You are welcome to leave him here though. We're badly overcrowded as it is, but I will take care of him."

But Diego shook his head. "No, thank you, padre." There was no way he could leave his little Felipe in such miserable conditions. No doubt the good padre was doing the best he could, but Felipe needed – nay, deserved – more than just a roof over his head. And as long as there was a chance of finding the boy's relatives... And if they were to find that relative, they needed Felipe to identify them. Better go on therefore. "At least not yet. We're still looking for the boy's relatives. Could you perhaps tell us where to find the pueblo of San Carlos?"

The padre nodded, seemingly relieved that the visitors did not intend to leave the boy in his care. "San Carlos is a small pueblo, about four miles southwest of here. I haven't been there since the fighting started though – it might well be..." He hesitated with a glance at Felipe, and made a gesture as if to say 'eradicated'.

Diego nodded. "Thank you. And God bless you and your work, padre." He took out his purse and gave him a generous donation to help him keep up the good work.

For a moment, the padre was totally at a loss for words, but then he stuttered, "Señor, may your kindness and generosity be rewarded tenfold! And..." He made the sign of the cross on his and Felipe's forehead, and blessed them both. "I pray that you will find the boy a good home, señor. God bless you."

Diego and Salvador lowered their head in thanks, and took their leave from the padre to travel on in a southwestern direction, hoping at least that the padre was right about the location of San Carlos.

Clearly, he was. Already when they were approaching the nearly burnt down pueblo, Felipe became so distressed that he wanted to take refuge against Diego's chest again. Diego stopped Esperanza for a moment to turn him around in the saddle, and Felipe promptly clung to him again as he had on that first day when they had just found him.

Slowly, they rode into town. There were but a handful of people about – they all looked worn-out and desolate.

Diego rode up to an elderly man. "Buenos dias, señor," he greeted, and slid out of the saddle with Felipe in his arms. "Is this San Carlos?"

The man grunted what seemed to be a positive reply.

"We found this boy all alone on a battlefield," Diego continued. "His name is Felipe, his parents have been killed, and he is from this pueblo, San Carlos. Do you happen to know if there are any relatives or friends of the family still around here?"

The man barely glanced at Felipe. "I got my own problems. Sorry." And with that, he walked off.

It was the type of reaction they'd often gotten these past days. People were simply too engrossed in their own misery to be able to take an interest in someone else's troubles. And really, who could blame them?

But now that they'd finally found Felipe's hometown, Diego was determined to speak with every living soul left in the pueblo. "Excuse me, do you happen to know this boy, Felipe? He used to live here."

"Excuse me, do you happen to know this boy? His name is Felipe, and he used to live here."

"Excuse me..."

And at last he found a woman who frowned, looked again at Felipe's pinched face, and nodded. "Yes, I remember him."

"You do?" Diego's face lit up. "Do you perhaps know if there are any relatives of his around here? Or friends of the family?" He sobered. "His parents got killed. Caught in a battle. And Felipe himself has lost his speech and his hearing. So we're looking for someone to take him in."

But the woman shook her head dismissively. "I remember them, yes, but I didn't really know the family."

"Then do you know perhaps of anyone around here who does know them?"

The woman glanced up at him. "Señor, when the fighting reached our pueblo, the people have fled in all directions. Most people you see here are refugees from elsewhere themselves. And other than my own children, I have no idea where anyone is. I don't even know where my own husband, my own parents are."

"I'm sorry," Diego said quietly. "Of course you have your own share of misery to deal with. I was just hoping... since you at least know Felipe here, that perhaps you could take him in and care for him? If there are no relatives to be found, then at least he could stay in his hometown. I'd be more than happy to pay for his keep."

A decisive shake of the head. "Sorry, señor. I've got problems enough of my own without adding a deaf and dumb kid to the pile. You had better put him in an orphanage – that's where he belongs."

Diego nodded stiffly. "Gracias, señora."

His mouth was a thin line when in the end he returned to Salvador who had stayed with the horses.

He raised his eyebrows; Diego just shook his head.

"So what now?" Salvador asked.

Diego nodded to the horses. "Let's get out of here first. It's obviously very distressing for Felipe."

They mounted their horses – Diego with Felipe still clinging to him – and slowly rode out of the pueblo. They stopped by a small creek – sunset would be upon them soon, and fresh water was always good to have at a campsite.

Diego slid off Esperanza with Felipe in his arms. They were practically back at square one: the boy was clinging to him, hiding his face in the ruffles of his shirt.

Once again, Salvador looked after the horses and got them something to eat. "We'll soon be running out of food," he said quietly as he sat down with Diego and Felipe. "We'll need to find a place where we can stock up a bit."

Diego nodded silently, and kept stroking Felipe's back.

"So what are we going to do with him now?" Salvador inquired after a lengthy pause.

"I don't know." Diego looked down at the boy in his arms and heaved a sigh. "It seemed so simple – just take him back to his hometown and all would be well. But maybe we've been going about this the wrong way – returning him to his past life when he seems desperate to forget what happened. Maybe..." He hesitated. "Maybe we should just take him back to Los Angeles with us. Since we can't seem to find any friends or relatives..." His voice trailed off, uncertain as he felt in making such a far-reaching decision about the boy's life.

Salvador nodded. "I think that would be a fine idea, Don Diego. And more so since it would give the boy the chance to keep in touch with you. With the way he has almost imprinted himself upon you, it'd be cruel to really separate him from you again."

Diego had a sad smile. "You're right – as always. But maybe we should ask Felipe himself what he wants. It's his life after all."

Salvador nodded. "But ask him tomorrow then. Right now he's just upset."

That seemed like sound advice, so it was after another harrowing night with multiple nightmares of Felipe's that Diego made him face him and tentatively began, "Felipe, there is something very important we need to ask you."

Felipe nodded – he looked pale and drawn, and seemed wary of what was to come.

And Diego made sure his signs and gestures were clear. "You saw that we didn't find any of your family in San Carlos yesterday. Maybe you still have family here – we just don't know where, because everyone has been running away for the fighting."

Felipe nodded mutely, and chewed on his lip.

"The question is, do you want to keep looking for your family? Or would you rather come back with me and señor Salvador, to my hometown?"

Felipe's eyes widened. "Stay with you?"

"Well, in my hometown," Diego clarified. "I think you would live at the orphanage with padre Berardo. He's a very nice man – I've known him all my life. And there are only twelve or fifteen children in the Los Angeles orphanage – not like the orphanage we saw yesterday. So padre Berardo would really have time for you. And of course I'd come and visit you every day."

Felipe nodded, and pointed at him.

"You want to come with me? To the pueblo de Los Angeles? It's very far away though," he warned. "If any family of yours is still looking for you, they will never find you there."

But Felipe pointed at himself, and then at Diego with exaggerated emphasis.

"You're sure you want to come to the pueblo de Los Angeles with me?"

Felipe nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Diego's face.

"Okay." Diego smiled. "Then to Los Angeles we go!"