Chapter One: The Updates

It's been fifteen years since the Esperanza first set out for the New World, but I remember it like it was yesterday. My guardian from the Barcelona cathedral, Father Rodriguez, had just died from a terrible illness, but before that he told me the story of how I was rescued in a fierce storm. Father Rodriguez's death pierced me more than anything in my life ever had. But a Spanish navigator named Mendoza told me something incredible-my father who was related to me by blood was still alive somewhere in the Americas, and I would be shown the way to him by this medallion. (holds it up) More than anything I wanted to be reunited with him-I hadn't seen him since I was a baby in the storm, so of course I had no memory whatsoever of him. I got on the magnificent shift called the Esperanza. We were just about to take off when I heard a strange sound. It sounded like a person or an animal in distress, and the sound was coming from underneath a sheet. I removed it and that is where I saw the most gorgeous creature I ever laid my eyes on.

Zia enters the room as I talk. "Are you talking about me?"

I turn to kiss her and pull her onto my lap. "Yes, darling. I'm telling everybody about how we came together. This beautiful woman is my wife. Zia wears the exact same medallion as I do. They would lead us to the cities of gold, which Mendoza and his comrades, Sancho and Pedro, were looking for."

Zia explains, "Mendoza was a ruggedly handsome man--"

"But not more handsome than me, right?"

Zia laughs. "No, darling, not more handsome than you. That is impossible. But I had a hard time trusting him. He'd kidnapped me!"

I smile. "But he had a good heart. And Sancho and Pedro, well, Sancho was a corpulent man who stuttered too much, and Pedro looked like a monkey and was rather surly. We'd no sooner set out when I found out that while I was ready for some sea adventure, my stomach wasn't. But I had a terrific nurse looking after me." I turn to Zia and kiss her.

Zia adds, "Don't forget, you also looked after me. You made a promise to always protect me."

I hold her closer and say, "Yes, my love, and now I've made it again. Until death do us part will I protect you."

In case some of you may be saying, "Enough of this romance and affection," I will tell the rest of the story. Our ship hit an iceberg! We were soon stranded on a deserted island where we met our best friend, Tao, a descendant on the island of Heva whose ancestors had established the cities of gold. It took a while for Tao and me to become best friends. Tao didn't trust me because he thought I would put the cities of gold in danger, me being a white boy (I say boy because I was only twelve-we all were), plus, I think Tao had some feelings for Zia. Zia and I both hoped to be reunited with our fathers. Zia had grown up in an Incan village and when Gomez and Gaspard, two Spaniards, captured her, they were separated. Zia did get reunited with him, though. Sadly, though, he was wounded and died soon after. I pause, "Darling, if this is too painful to discuss, I'll stop."

Zia smiles at me. "No, Esteban. It's quite all right."

We met a High Priest who encouraged me to have more adventure than my father. So I took Zia and Tao and we embarked on a journey to cross the Pacific. We flew our great golden condor, an impressive aircraft. I am the pilot of it. How ironic, for I used to get dizzy when I was up so high. Don't laugh at me, I'm sure some of you get dizzy, too! We'd found the city of gold in the Andes, by the way, and we set off to find the other six. We found them, and then we moved back to Barcelona, where we promised Mendoza we would see him, Sancho, and Pedro again, in the tavern, where we first met. I showed Tao and Zia the cathedral I had been raised in, and soon after Zia and I were married.

That night Zia and I climbed into bed together and did what we'd always dreamed of doing but had to wait for, to save for that special night. I know some of you are probably very curious, and I know I've been telling you a detailed story, but that is some detail that is just between her and me.

A year later we had a little miracle come into our lives-our son, Miguel. He's six now. Two years later we had our four-year-old daughter, Conchetta. Because of their ages we have our hands full, but luckily we live with Tao, who has nowhere else to go (all his relatives have died, so we're his family), so he helps us out when one of us is too tired. But those two children are wonderful blessings from the good Lord, and Tao is our dear friend.

Miguel and Conchetta enter the room from playing outside. "Papa," Conchetta says, "look at my finger." She holds it up. It is bleeding.

"What happened, child?" I ask, concerned.

"I pricked it on a thorn," she explains.

I pull her onto my other knee and kiss her finger. "Does that feel better, darling?"

Conchetta smiles, throws her arms around my neck, and kisses me.

Perhaps it will be a while before I am reunited with my own father, but I do enjoy being one!