I would like to dedicate this story to one of my co-workers, M.N., who decided to take his life this late April. I was utterly shocked and brought to tears by this gesture, which seems devoid of any logic to everyone around, including me. He was a charming man, one who seemingly had success, a happy marriage, two teenage kids, and a great smile. I have a hard time accepting that he is now gone forever.
I wrote this story to try and forget about my confusion, and my incapacity at dealing with what he had done. It may not be the best, but it did help lighten my mood. I do not have the pretense to say this is a good story, but I had to write something about everyday life, something without any type of plot or higher, hidden purpose.
Pedro was enjoying the sunny morning, like he usually did on every day of his life, puffing at his small pipe. The cattle was out of the barn, the sun was shining low and bright at the horizon, the air was getting warmer by the minute, and all was still and quiet in the large fields. One could not wish for a more perfect stillness and inner peace, the very few minutes where the new day woke one's senses, but the dullness of a good night's sleep still clung around the corner of the eyes.
The middle-aged vaquero also realized, like every morning, how lucky he was to be working for the de la Vegas, this nice and influent family of the Los Angeles area. Master Alejandro was demanding but just, a man who was able to get the best out of the people working for him. He never mistreated anyone, asked something beyond one's capabilities, or refused to pay one's due salary. Diego was also a kind soul, one that many thought lacking in energy and spirit, but he embodied all the values of his father, in a gentler way.
Like every morning, Pedro crossed himself and said a short prayer to God, to protect the de la Vega and all their lands. He then puffed one last time, extinguished what was left of the tobacco, and put the pipe back in the pouch hanging by his side. Grabbing the pummel of his saddle, he was about ready to jump back on his horse until something caught his attention not far ahead.
Pedro could have dismissed the movement for a figment of his imagination, or some random animal, which is what he would usually do out here in the open. Unlike every morning though, he decided to check it out. Grabbing the reins of his horse, he pulled the mare forward to investigate. When his eyes locked onto the object, a large smile lit his dark-skinned face.
"A.. hat! And a nice one at that!" he exclaimed out loud, scaring some of the cattle.
The vaquero picked the coveted object with care, examining it from all sides. The gaucho hat was all black, and a leather hatband circled around its crown, pinned in place by finely carved silver pins. This was a fine piece, one Pedro could never afford in his lifetime. Some caballero must have lost it while riding his horse too hard, or just got hit by some strong, gusting winds. Whatever the reason, if he hadn't run back to get his possession, it must not have been that dear to him.
With pride, Pedro threw his hat back and tried on the new one. It fit him perfectly.
How lucky he was indeed, he thought once more.
The better part of the morning went by afterwards, as all mornings went by for Pedro. He got busy with this and that, rode his horse all over the fields to bring the cattle to nice grazing areas. When morning break came, Pedro rode back to the hacienda's barn, to tend to his mount a little, and puff at his pipe some more.
Felipe, the gentle mute boy, was passing by, clumsily carrying two heavy buckets of water. Pedro smiled at him. He liked how his masters took care of everyone, even if they had their own little handicaps.
"Hola, Felipe," Pedro said out loud, even if he knew the teenager could not hear him.
Felipe looked up and smiled at the vaquero. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he looked very distressed. He put down the two buckets and ran to Pedro, shaking his hand frantically.
"Hey, hey, Felipe, what's up?"
Felipe paused and took a deep breath, and meaningfully gestured at the vaquero's head, pointing his hat. He then put a fist to his chest, and pointed the hat once more.
"Ah, you want a hat like this one? It's nice, isn't it? I found it in the fields," Pedro smiled with pride. He tipped the brim a little to show off to the teenager, but the boy only shook his head and sighed.
"I don't got two, Feli—"
Springing on his heels like a mad horse, Felipe grabbed the hat off Pedro's head and started running towards the hacienda, duly ignoring the vaquero's calls since he was supposed to act like a deaf anyways. He was angry that someone dared steal the hat of Zorro. The teenager could not possibly figure out how it happened, but it made him very upset. He would have to explain to Diego that he should be careful with his belongings in the future. That, or maybe Pedro had found their secret, hiding place! This could mean nothing but trouble. He would have to examine the entrance at the fireplace, see if it had been discovered, though Felipe doubted the vaquero could have walked into the hacienda to start with.
Felipe hoped Pedro would not be too mad at him for taking the hat, he was a nice man... but Zorro's hat was Zorro's, and it had to be returned to its rightful owner. He looked behind his shoulder to see if the vaquero was following him—
—and promptly bumped into Alejandro de la Vega, who was just coming out of the hacienda through the front gate.
"Felipe!" he smiled, grabbing the panting young boy by the shoulders.
Felipe felt caught. He hoped he would not be accused of stealing by Don Alejandro, when he would realize what he had done to Pedro. Not knowing what to do, the boy anxiously looked down, feeling guilty already.
"Oh, thanks, Felipe! I had forgotten my hat. I don't know where my head is sometimes, must be my old age," Alejandro said, taking the object from his hands.
Alejandro patted Felipe on the head fondly. He was a very amazing boy, and he was so proud of how he had turned out, despite the fact that he could not talk or hear. He would make a fine man one day, the aged caballero was sure of it.
The don climbed into the carriage that was waiting for him, and waved good-bye to Felipe. He had to make some deliveries in town, a task he would normally have asked one of his men to do, but the day looked promising and he needed some fresh air, and some fresh news from the pueblo. Nothing ever paid more than a short visit at Victoria's tavern to get the latest gossips, and to hear about their fearless alcalde's new schemes for robbing the population.
The ride to Los Angeles was one that Alejandro enjoyed very much. He could marvel at the fields, the smells, the bustling life, and every detail he loved so much about his land and California. He wished Diego had been up to accompany him though, and he sighed at how lazy his son could be in the mornings.
It was about noon when Alejandro passed by Los Angeles' main gate. The pueblo was bustling with life, the peasants and workers eagerly walking by the plaza, a few of them stopping for a short moment at the well to refresh themselves. Alejandro parked his carriage in front of the church, climbed down, and grabbed a basket filled with vegetables.
"Buenas días, Don Alejandro," greeted Padre Benites as he walked down the small stairs.
"Buenas días," replied the caballero with a smile. "This is for the Church, Padre, a small contribution."
"Really, you do not have to, my friend! God will need to start being creative to thank you for all your 'small contributions'!" the monk laughed, accepting the basket.
"A simple 'thank you' from a good friend will suffice, Padre!"
"We'll need to settle down that score by the way, I haven't had my chance for revenge in a while," Padre Benites nodded with a smile, referring to their regular chess games.
"Sure thing, don't get your hopes too high, Padre!" waved Alejandro as he headed for the tavern across the plaza.
The sun was burning hot at this time of the day, and the old don was glad Felipe had thought of his hat before he left. He wiped some sweat off his forehead and temples with a piece of cloth before entering Los Angeles' most popular building.
Alejandro's eyes took a while to adjust inside the dim room, which was populated by all kinds of people who were eager to have a snack and some of Victoria's famous lemonade. He smiled fondly at the young lady when she saw him walk in, and he sat down at the only empty seat left, patiently waiting to be served. At his table was another man whom Alejandro did not know.
"Hola, señor. I hope you don't mind my presence, this is a rather busy hour it seems," he said gently with a smile, attempting to strike a conversation with the stranger.
The man looked up at him slowly. Suddenly, he hit the table with the palm of his hand and stood up with a roar.
"Who dares sit at my table like this! This is outrageous! And take your hat off in my presence, you damn caballero scum!" he said, grabbing Alejandro's hat in a large sweep of his hand.
"Well, I am sorry about this, señor," the old man apologized, hands up in sign of peace.
Gustavo finished his mug of wine in one gulp and threw another hard look at the man in front of him. All those caballeros annoyed him to no end, with their pompous looks and their knightly meetings, and how they thought they could own this land with their workforce. What a stupid place this California was. Even the wine was bad. This was a hellhole, a major one, and Gustavo had no idea how he could ever get out of it.
"To hell with all of you!" he looked around at the silent crowd who stared at him.
"And to you as well, señor! You better get out of here now! You are a disgrace!" a woman replied, her cheeks rosy from anger. She was pointing a knife at the drunkard.
"My, my, even the ladies are savages!"
That tavern owner was quite a lovely bird, Gustavo thought. He tried to walk to her, but the wine made him stumble on the bench and he almost fell, if not for grabbing the corner of the table next to him.
"Señor, I believe you ought to follow me now," a voice said from behind.
Gustavo turned around and faced a sergeant, who was accompanied by two of his soldiers. The drunk man sighed and shook his head.
"Ah! No! I haven't finished my meal, you idiot! You can't—"
"Grab him, soldiers, and if he resists..." the man trailed off hesitantly.
The two soldiers walked up to Gustavo, who did try to resist in a miserable way. His strength was nowhere to be found, and only a dull ache could be felt in his arms and legs. Gustavo grunted and let himself be grabbed by the arms. The Californian wine be damned indeed.
"Thank you, Sergeant Mendoza! You saved the day!" the woman chirped at the blushing sergeant. "Don Alejandro, are you all right?"
"Yes, no harm done, thank you very much Sergeant," the caballero said, thanking him with a pat on the arm.
"Sergeant, would you care to stay for some lemonade? It's on the house, of course," Victoria added with a wink.
"Oh, thank you, I would love to, but duty calls, I need to report to the alcalde this—"
"Shush with the niceties already!" Gustavo yelled, with another unsuccessful attempt at freeing himself from the soldiers' grip. These people were so annoying he could barely stand it. The drunk man saw Mendoza cringe, and smiled at his rather weak leadership and presence. If not for his current state, he could have beaten this man with ease.
The sergeant took a breath and searched the drunk man's vest and pockets for weapons. He found a sheathed knife in his back, but nothing else.
"To the jail, soldiers," Mendoza ordered.
The small group walked out of the tavern into the scorching sun of the afternoon. Gustavo hated the brightness and the heat. He wanted to go back inside the building and have some more wine to forget how horrible this place was.
"Leave me be!" he yelled once more, resisting the arrest. He tried to swirl around, but the soldiers tightened their grip on his arms and he screamed in pain. Once he stopped moving, the soldiers pushed him forward, and Gustavo had no choice but to obey.
Mendoza distractedly picked up the hat the drunkard had let go while he was making a scene in the middle of the whole plaza. He sighed heavily, wondering how on earth his life had come to this. Arresting drunk people at the tavern was one thing, when he was not asked to arrest the people for not paying the terrible taxes the alcalde always claimed, or run after this outlaw Zorro, who had done nothing wrong so far but help the pueblo in some strange ways. When he joined the military, he had envisioned a more heroic career, one where lives would be saved, justice would be made, and ladies would be swooning at his uniform and great looks. Zorro was not a military man but had all these great things, and Mendoza envied him a little. Well, maybe he envied him a lot. He had señorita Victoria's love. She was quite a woman, so fierce and compassionate.
"Sergeant! What is this!" a familiar voice yelled, taking Mendoza out of his reverie. Luis Ramon walked with decided steps towards him with his usual furious glare. If looks could kill, Mendoza would have been dead a long time ago.
"Alcalde," he fumbled around, unsure of what to say. The alcalde always made him nervous with his fits. "We just arrested this drunk man who—"
"Do you know who this is?!"
"I... No, Alcalde."
"This is Don Gustavo Delgado!"
Mendoza looked left and right, trying to find some meaning to what could be wrong with that name. He could find none.
"Don't tell me... Oh, Madre de Dios, what have I done to have such idiots working for me! He's—what's this?" Ramon asked, pointing the object in Mendoza's hand.
"Er, this is Don Gustavo's hat," replied Mendoza, his nervousness rising to another level when he saw Ramon's eyes widen with indignation.
"Imbecile!" Ramon roared, taking the hat from the sergeant's hand. "You tell me you do NOT recognize this either?!"
"Well, it's just a hat, Alcalde. What's... wrong with it?"
"Not 'just a hat'—this is Zorro's hat! Where is this bandit? Have you seen him? Was he at the tavern again?"
"What? No, Alcalde, we just—"
"Raaaaaaaaaah!" Ramon could not stand it anymore. He headed back to his office and violently slammed the door. He was already in a bad mood and Mendoza was not helping one bit at all. What a weakling he was. How could he arrest Don Gustavo? The rich caballero had just arrived in Los Angeles, he would have been a...
A quick look at the object in his hands forced Ramon to stop his train of thought. What could the don have been doing with Zorro? Had he met the outlaw upon his arrival from Spain? Did he confront him? How on earth did he end up with his hat? Maybe this had something to do with him being drunk. Or maybe with Victoria. Everyone knew she was infatuated with this bandit.
It made no sense. Ramon sighed, trying to calm himself down before he would go interrogate Don Gustavo and Victoria about this matter. He needed to use this to his advantage somehow, find some angle with which to corner that annoying woman or Don Gustavo into revealing what they knew about Zorro.
The alcalde paced back and forth in his office, turning the hat around in his hands as if it could help unravel Zorro's identity. After a while of fretting about, Ramon stopped in front of the tiny mirror on the wall, and looked over his left shoulder, then over his right. He then put the hat on, and fastened the rope under his chin. He made a face, and drew his sword out.
"Alcalde, you will free Don Gustavo, and give back the money from the taxes you charged to the people of this pueblo," he said in a poor imitation of the outlaw.
Ramon's face contorted with disgust and he sheathed his sword, unable to convince himself that playing the hero and a savior was worth anything to anyone. What a waste of skills this was.
The alcalde took off the hat and walked out, heading for the tavern. There was a mystery to elucidate, and better start with the one person who was not drunk.
"Bang! Bang! I will catch you, Mr. Fox!" Ramon heard close by. He had no chance to step aside and was stopped dead in his track by two children running around his legs, obviously impersonating two famous characters of the pueblo.
"No, I will kick your butt, bad alcalde! You'll never be able to catch me! Ah!"
The kids did not realize who they were bugging. Ramon took a deep breath and roared, catching by the neck the little boy who was wearing a black drape and a homemade mask.
"Will you stop that!" he ordered.
The kid's eyes widened in fear as he stared open mouthed at the real Luis Ramon.
"Are you going to kill Esteban, Señor Alcalde? He's not the real Zorro, you know..." his little self said with a pleading tone, pointing down his tiny wooden pistol.
"And why wouldn't I?" Ramon replied, enjoying this moment where his authority shone, for once.
"Because I am the bad guy, not him!" he proudly said, beating his tiny chest with a fist.
Ramon rolled his eyes, annoyed by the arrogant little rascal. He dropped his grip on Esteban and tried to catch his friend, but the boy dodged his hand and ran away as fast as he could.
"Come back, you little brat!" the alcalde ordered, to no avail. The kid was already out of sight.
The small Zorro remained by his side though, seemingly unable to move. He was still staring at Ramon in silence with an open mouth.
"Stop staring, chico. You're in big trouble."
"Am I?" Esteban said dumbly.
Luis Ramon grunted.
"I will kick your butt, bad alcalde! You'll never be able to catch me! Ah!" the kid suddenly chirped with a laugh, totally in character with Ramon's nemesis. He took his wooden sword out and vigorously poked Ramon's behind repeatedly, running around and avoiding the madman's fists like a true fox would.
Ramon could no longer stand it. He stopped trying to catch Esteban, realizing with sudden shame that he was the laughingstock of the whole plaza. His face red hot from anger, he turned around and went back for his office.
"Bang! Bang!" he heard again.
In one agile sweep, Zorro's friend ran past Ramon once more, and grabbed the hat from his hand after vigorously stepping on his foot. The alcalde yelped in pain, as both kids ran away laughing, leaving the flustered man behind them.
Sancho was delighted he was able to steal something from the alcalde. He proudly put the large hat on his head. All of his friends would surely be jealous of him for being so courageous and face this incredible danger all by himself. Esteban was right behind him, giggling in delight at the major trick they just pulled. What a treasure they just got, and all for themselves!
Looking back to check if they were out of trouble, Sancho did not see the man who was standing right in their path. He bumped into him and fell on the ground with a thump.
"Now, now, what have we got here?" he suddenly heard as a strong pair of hands suddenly grabbed him under the armpits to lift him up.
"It's Sancho who did it!" Esteban said, pointing his friend.
"That's not true!" Sancho replied, lifting the hat to see who had caught him. He recognized Don Diego and felt some hope. Diego was one of the nice guys, he would surely let them go away and not bring them back to the alcalde... maybe.
"Yes, you stole the hat from the bad guy!"
"You're jealous, admit it!"
Both kids stopped talking when they saw Diego laugh heartily.
"Sancho, did you really steal the... this hat you're wearing?" the caballero asked, a curious look on his face.
"...Uh, yeah, kinda."
"You know stealing is bad. You should not put yourself into trouble like this," Diego explained.
"I thought stealing from the bad guys was allowed... Zorro does it, why can't we?" Esteban said.
Diego chuckled and picked the hat from Sancho. The boy scratched his make-up beard with embarrassment.
"You know Zorro doesn't steal things, he tries to fight injustice and bring peace to the pueblo. He defends the people's rights. I doubt he would steal a hat to achieve this... What do you think?"
Both kids looked on the ground and silently nodded.
"I will return it to its owner. If you promise you will behave, I will not bring you to the alcalde, or tell your parents."
Sancho and Esteban looked up to Diego and pouted in disappointment.
"All right," they both said in unison.
Sensing Diego's lesson was over, the two boys returned to their game and ran away into an alley.
"Bang! Bang!" "You won't catch me!" the caballero heard. He chuckled and shook his head, amused at the game.
Now... how did his hat end up into the alcalde's custody, only to be stolen by two energetic children? This was one strange turn of events. Diego wondered why he had not realized he had lost his hat yesterday when he ran back home in the middle of the night. He should be more careful, though he doubted the object could lead the alcalde in any way to Zorro's true identity.
The caballero headed for the tavern, making sure before crossing the plaza that the alcalde was not around to see him with the coveted object. When he entered the building, he was greeted warmly by Victoria.
"Buenas dias, Diego! What brings you in town today?" she smiled, bringing a glass of lemonade as if she was expecting him to show up exactly at this moment.
Diego's heart flinched as he tried to contain his enthusiasm at seeing his beloved. He blushed and looked down, hiding his discomfort by wiping his forehead with his sleeve.
"Hola, Victoria. Have you seen my father? He left for town earlier this morning, I thought I could catch him in here, but I am obviously late," he said, looking around the empty tavern.
"He was here about an hour ago, Diego, right about lunch time. You just missed him, and some crazy drunkard too," she declared, a flash of anger coloring her cheeks a little.
Diego liked how she was so expressive, never hiding her true feelings and thoughts. This got her into trouble more than once, but it is what made her so charming and beautiful.
"A drunkard? What happened?" Diego asked, concerned about Victoria's safety.
"Oh, it's all right. He insulted your father, but Sergeant Mendoza took care of him," she answered with a smile, brushing a lock of her hair aside.
"Oh."
"Well, Diego, are you here to eat, or will you just stand in the door frame for the rest of the afternoon?" Victoria teased with a wink.
"Er, yes, well..." Diego blushed some more, scratching the back of his head. "I have a favor to ask of you, if you don't mind."
"What is it? You know I will do it, Diego."
The caballero nervously checked his back to make sure no one was within hearing range, and pulled Victoria into the kitchen.
"I... found this, and thought you had more chances than me of giving it back to its owner," he whispered, showing Victoria the hat he was hiding in his back.
Victoria's eyes dilated, and she too blushed as she picked up the hat from Diego's hands. She had instantly recognized it.
"Where did you find it?"
"Some kids stole it from Ramon... I don't know how or where he got it, but... well... here it is."
Victoria's heart beat faster as she thought of Zorro, her mysterious lover. She also felt a little ashamed that Diego knew about their odd relationship, coming to her so candidly with this request. The gentle man must knew about Zorro popping in the tavern from time to time if he brought her his hat. She hoped it did not break her friend's heart to do this.
"Well, I must be going. I need to find my father. It was nice talking to you, Victoria."
The woman barely nodded at Diego as he left the tavern, lost in her thoughts. She lightly stroke the hat with the tip of her fingers as she brought it close to her chest. She would be so happy to have a reason to talk to Zorro, and she hoped she would be able to surprise him with this unexpected gesture. He must surely be wondering where his possession was right at this moment.
Victoria spent the rest of the afternoon in a dreamy state, wondering when next Zorro would come talk to her. She broke a glass, burnt a whole tray of galletas, and kept confusing everybody's orders throughout dinner time.
The sun set, people came and left, and after a busy night Victoria could finally sit down and rest. She untied her apron and hung it, sighing to express how tired she was.
"I am sorry to intrude, señorita. I know you must be very tired," a voice said.
Victoria jumped, but immediately calmed down as a gauntleted hand picked hers and kissed it.
"Zorro!" she whispered, barely containing her joy at seeing him.
"I hear you have something that belongs to me," he said with a chuckle.
Victoria noticed he was not wearing his hat, only the headband that covered all of his head and half of his face.
She nodded and grabbed a stool, climbing up to grab the black hat she had hidden on top of a shelf in the kitchen. Her heart was beating so loud she could barely hear her own thoughts.
"Here you are, Señor," she winked at him. "Are you going to leave me so soon, now that you have what you were looking for?"
Zorro thanked her with a nod, and winked back as he put on his hat.
"Not that soon, I'm afraid. You still have something that belongs to me, señorita," Zorro said, gently pointing a finger at her in accusation.
"I do?" Victoria said, her mouth open with surprise. She fumbled around the kitchen, confused.
Zorro laughed at her and grabbed her from behind, and gently squeezed his beloved into his arms. He kissed her neck, the wonderful smell of her skin overwhelming his senses.
"You stole my heart, Victoria, but you can keep it for as long as you wish," he whispered.
Zorro felt Victoria melt, and she turned around. She grabbed his head with passion and kissed him with all her heart and love. The hat fell on the floor, but no one cared for it at the moment.
If you had not realized it, this was also a simple writing exercise at switching point of views... using the hat. I hope you enjoyed it.