A Christmas to Remember ( A Christmas Special)

(A Christmas Carol as enacted by the characters of the New World Zorro)

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to any of the New World Zorro material, nor am I profiting by writing this story. You may recognize whole lines from Dickens' marvelous A Christmas Carol, which is in the public domain. Since the producers already did "It's a Wonderful Zorro," I figured this would fit right in naturally. Dickens actually wrote his novella in 1843, a bit late to be used by Zorro, but since the spirits can clearly bend time in Dickens' version, I hope he would not mind.

This is unabashedly one of those ubiquitous Christmas specials. My sons think they are schmaltzy; my mother and I happen to like them. I have also chosen to stick firmly within the show's background world of Spanish Catholicism and Dickens' emphasis on the Christmas spirit. I chose to focus on Victoria, who learns a valuable lesson about anger management, forgiveness, and second chances from some special supernatural visitors.

Feliz Navidad to you all! I hope you like it – I've been working on it since early October.

Stave One: A Woman's Fury

It was the night before Christmas eve, and Victoria stood in her room in front of the mirror brushing her hair until it shone like ebony. She was dressed in her best red flounced skirt and a white ruffled blouse. At her throat, she wore a beautiful necklace of pearls which Zorro had given to her. Her eyes gleamed in anticipation because she expected her masked hero to visit her later that night. She did not know that he had chosen that very night as a special occasion in which to give her the best Christmas present he could imagine, the secret to his identity and a full share in his life and his heart.

She did not have long to wait. As soon as the pueblo had grown silent for the night, Zorro arrived. When he stepped through the window, he caught his breath, and she felt warmed by his admiration. She prepared to rush into his arms, but he stood stiff and uncertainly beside the window through which he had just entered. He held up one hand pleadingly, "Querida, please just listen to me. I barely have the courage to go through with this as it is. I told you once that the man in this mask fears only one thing in this world: that you love a hero with whom he cannot possibly compete. I have waited too long in fear of your rejection. I must know now whether you can love the man behind the mask." With surprising agility and lithe grace, he took a few steps forward and knelt before her. He lifted his hands to the mask and untied the knots. The mask fell away, but his head remained humbly bowed.

"Diego?!" she exclaimed in a voice that shook and almost squeaked in the surprise and tension of the moment. He looked up sharply, his eyes a well of anxiety. She looked into the familiar yet somehow unfamiliar face and felt paralyzed and confused. Then she took a step back and mustered all the force in her arm before slapping him sharply across the face. "How dare you!" she hissed. "You lied to me! Have you been playing with me all along?! How could you?" Part of her was aware that she was overreacting and might regret it later. The other part of her reveled in creating a scene and allowing her temper to rage uncontrolled. It gave her a momentary release from the tension. In the back of her mind, a voice whispered that she was burning her bridges and might regret this later, but never one to temper her thoughts or actions, she pushed on nevertheless. She remembered when she was a very young child and had thrown temper-tantrums to get her father's attention. She had carried on beyond the time when the tantrum was real and pushed herself all the further because she almost liked the sensation of raging out of control. It terrified her and fascinated her at the same time.

Diego's face grew pale, and his lips trembled as he pleaded, "No, Victoria. Please listen. I love you. I love you more than life itself. I never played with you. I meant every word. I love you and only you! I was trying to protect you. Please forgive me. I never met to hurt you."

She said nothing, and the silence stretched uncomfortably.

At last, Diego spoke again, "Please, will you let me explain?"

She drew her hand back again as if to strike, and he flinched away and stood out of her reach. "No! What is there to explain? I don't trust you! How can I feel anything for a man I can't trust? Forgive you? I don't think so! I waited all these years for Zorro, and you turn out to be Diego? Get out!"

"Querida, please," he said in a voice that revealed he was near tears.

"Get out!" She grabbed the nearest thing at hand, her set of combs and brushes, and hurled them onto the floor in her rage. He sidestepped quickly, and they clattered at his feet. "Get out!" she sobbed again. "I never want to see you again!"

Picking up his mask from the floor and retying it, Zorro hurried to the window. With unspeakable depths of sorrow in his eyes, he put one foot over the sill and turned back towards her. "Even angry, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Victoria, I will always love you, but without you, there can be no Zorro." He pulled a single red rose from his sash, kissed it, and tossed it onto the floor at her feet as he disappeared from view.

Victoria stood rooted to the spot, her cheeks aflame with color and her bosom heaving with wild, churning emotions. Despite the cauldron boiling within her, she felt oddly empty. She also felt ashamed. Never had she lost her temper so badly before. Her thoughts were in a whirling chaos. Memories of Zorro's sweet kisses and words of endearment mingled with images of Diego's shy kindness and friendship. But she turned away and indulged her wrath.

"No," she told herself. "I am right to be angry. Let him come crawling to me. I will not forgive him so easily!"