A/N: The medical technology and information is as close as I could get it – off the Internet. I found it interesting. The hypodermic needle wasn't perfected until about 1846. Nitrous oxide was invented – but not used until about the mid-to-late 1840s – only by dentists. Massachusetts General Hospital was formed before 1820 and a separate facility, for the insane, yet affiliated with 'Mass General' was formed as well. There's more I could have put in – but I picked out what I thought the characters might be more interested in.

CHAPTER TEN – Confession & Curiosities

The next day, Padre Benites was working in his garden when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned and saw Don Alejandro approaching him. "Don Alejandro, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? What can I do for you?" He extended his hand.

Don Alejandro walked up and shook the padre's hand. "Padre, I think I need confession – and counsel."

Benites replied, "Then come with me, my son, to my quarters. We can talk privately there."

Once in the padre's modest quarters, they sat down. "May I offer you something to drink – or perhaps a snack, Don Alejandro?"

"No thank you, Father. I just had lunch." Alejandro fidgeted a bit in his chair.

Benites lowered himself into his chair and turned towards Don Alejandro. "Now – what can I do for you, Don Alejandro?"

Alejandro pursed his lips together in a tight line as he considered how to begin. Then, he took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Well Father, I've been seriously guilty of misjudging my – uh – someone I know well and am very close to."

"Tell me, my son." Benites leaned forward in his chair, listening intently.

"I've learned something recently – which I cannot share, and yet, I am bursting with conflicting feelings." Alejandro looked at the floor.

"What conflicting feelings, may I ask?"

"Guilt, embarrassment, frustration, fear, anger…intense love and pride." Alejandro looked up with a little bit of all the mentioned emotions on his face.

Benites sat back and rested his chin on his fingers and thumb. "That's quite a diverse batch of conflicts! Let's break this down a bit. Start with one of them – let's say – guilt."

Alejandro sighed. "Father, the guilt has to do with how I've treated this person. I've said things in anger and frustration that led to a – breakdown in communication – and I uttered a severe insult – to their face!"

Benites replied, "Well, that takes care of guilt, anger, and frustration. So – you've said things to this person and you insulted them. And now you regret your words, am I following you correctly?"

"Si, I certainly regret my words – and actions. I find now that I spoke in ignorance and mistrust."

"You said you recently discovered something you didn't know before about this person – does knowing change your feelings towards them?"

"Absolutely."

"Am I out of line if I ask – are we talking about Diego?"

Alejandro was taken aback, but sighed, and nodded. "Si. I have severely misjudged my own son."

Benites smiled. Now we're getting somewhere, he thought. "In what way, Don Alejandro?"

"It's a long story, Father. I've been quite frustrated with my son since he came home from Spain. I called him home because of the tyranny here – I needed his help and support. He didn't give it. He seemed to change from the young man he had been before. He was different. He didn't respond at all like I thought – or hoped he would. He became a stranger to me – my own son – a stranger! About a year ago, I called him a coward! Now I find…"

"Now you find…what?"

"Now I find…he was never a coward…he just didn't do what I expected." Alejandro fidgeted in his chair again.

"So he didn't meet your expectations." It was more a statement than a question from Benites.

"Well – actually – he far exceeded my expectations – in ways I could never have foreseen or imagined." Alejandro shook his head in amazement.

Benites thought a moment, taking it all in. Si, I think I know what this is about, he thought. But will I let either of them know that I know? Or at least what I suspect to be the truth. I think not.

"So – you are proud of your son and what he has accomplished."

"Extremely – though I am embarrassed and ashamed at how I treated him."

"Have you asked his forgiveness?"

"Oh si, and he was gracious – quick to forgive."

"Don Alejandro, you also mentioned fear. What part does that play?" Benites leaned forward again.

Alejandro pursed his lips into that thin line again. "I – I don't know that I can talk about that."

Benites nodded. "All right. Let me ask you another question. Do you believe that God can protect Diego?"

Alejandro nodded. "Si, I absolutely believe it. I – I think God has protected Diego already – from many dangers. I am certain, however, that there may be things I don't know anything about."

"Let me see if I can understand what you're saying, and what you are after. You've recently learned that your son is not the coward you thought he was. You are extremely proud of him instead of ashamed – even though he didn't do things the way you thought he should. You feel you have sinned against him with your treatment of him. You asked forgiveness, and he gave it. Yet, you fear for him. Does this cover it?"

Alejandro nodded again. "I believe so."

"Don Alejandro, have you told Diego how proud of him you are, since you talked with him?"

"Well – maybe not in so many words…but I think he knows."

"Really? Can he read your mind?"

"Well – no – but…"

"Tell him, Don Alejandro. Tell him how proud of him you are. It will mean the world to him – I know. All a son wants is for his father to be proud of him, and not ashamed."

"Gracias, Father. I will – tell him."

"So – what do you need, Don Alejandro? Absolution from God? Forgiveness? Confession?"

"I believe I need all those things, Father." Alejandro looked at the floor.

"All right. Let's start with confession, shall we?"

Following the rite of confession, Father Benites asked, "Don Alejandro, may I pray for you?"

"Certainly, Father."

Benites rose and put his hands on Don Alejandro's head as the latter knelt before him.

"Sante Padre, I ask You to forgive Don Alejandro in the matter of misjudging his son. I pray that their communication be better than ever – that there will be no more secrets between father and son. I pray blessing upon Don Alejandro and his entire household. Bless them in their going out and in their coming in. En nomini patri, et filli, et spiritus sanctu. Amen."

Alejandro rose and smiled. "Gracias, Father Benites. I feel much better. Thank you for your perspective."

"De nada, Don Alejandro. Thank you for coming to see me. You know the door is always open to you. And tell Diego to stop by some time – when he gets a chance." Benites shook Alejandro's hand once more.

"I will, Father." Each man had his own thoughts as Benites showed Alejandro to the door.

Z

When Jackson entered the doctor's pueblo office, he found Diego sorting through the rest of Hernandez's books. Diego looked up from his reading when he saw Dr. Barton.

"Doctor Barton – I wasn't expecting you today. Doctor Hernandez said I could go through the rest of his books and choose what I might want for my personal library. I can come back later if you'd like."

"Nonsense," Jackson waved in a dismissing fashion. "Stay awhile. Let's talk."

"Gracias. How are things going for you? The townspeople are all talking about your excellent care for them. They certainly like you. Sergeant Mendoza told me he was very impressed with you."

"Things are going well, gracias. You mentioned once you'd like to talk about some of the new medical treatments? Did you have anything particular in mind?"

"Well, I wish I could keep up – but being out here so far from Europe – the only way I hear of new things is mostly through books I get from San Pedro. I'm interested in analgesics and things which speed healing and – in new forms of medication administration."

"You mean – like a syringe? Si, they're still working on that. Physicians in Europe are still working on hypodermic needles. Right now, they're still about the size of a bamboo shoot. Liquids by mouth are still how it's being done – even in the best hospitals. I have an idea for a field model myself – but I haven't had time to actually put one together."

"Now that's another concept that's foreign here. Hospitals – I think I understand what they are, but could you explain more? When I was at the University of Madrid, they were just beginning to talk about putting together a hospital there."

"I love talking about hospitals! They're revolutionizing medical care in many ways. Instead of the physician traveling to every patient, the patient travels to where the doctors are. A hospital is able to take care of many patients at once and they hire staff doctors. They are mainly built to care for the poor and contain different 'wards.' The wards in a 'general hospital' are usually categorized according to patient type…such as a general illness ward and a surgical ward – just for those who'd had surgery. Medicine is also beginning to see the value in trying to treat those who are loco. At Massachusetts General, we have a separate hospital for the insane close by."

Jackson loved talking about what he knew. He sensed the hunger in Diego to know more. Hmmm, maybe this guy is all right, he thought. He goes out of his way to not step on my toes. He's congenial. Maybe he can become a friend. Time will tell.

"That's fascinating, Doctor Barton."

"Oh please. Call me Jackson – especially when we're alone like this."

Diego smiled. "Gracias – Jackson. I'd love to hear about what you're interested in, as well."

Jackson's chest almost puffed out at the idea of sharing his passion. "Well – I'm interested in analgesics, like you – but my main passion is in new sedatives. Scientists and chemists are discovering new chemical compounds all the time. I'm especially interested in nitrous oxide and something I've heard several researchers are working on in Europe called chloroform – from some kind of seaweed. There's great promise in them even though they're never used. Most physicians use ether these days. I use it too, but I believe there should be more options."

Diego suggested. "If you're interested, I have a cactus tea that works both as an analgesic and sedative – when a larger dose is ingested. It's an old Indian remedy I heard about."

"Hmmm. That sounds promising. I'm sure the Indians have a number of different opiates I'd be interested in. You'll have to introduce me around to some of your local tribes. I can talk with their medicine men. And – have you heard about Charles Bell's paper to the Royal Society on nerves – and Jean Marc Gaspard Itard's treatise on the science and study of hearing?"

"No, I haven't, but I'm very curious. Like I said, new information is hard to come by." Diego's attention was fully focused.

If it were possible, Jackson's chest puffed out even more. He loved showing off what he knew. And since this 'amateur' caballero was truly interested – all the better. He was an audience – and Jackson needed an audience.

"Doctor Bell presented a paper on a new palsy he's diagnosed…"

"Palsy?"

"Oh – I beg your pardon – paralysis and uncontrolled tremors. Anyway – Doctor Bell presented a paper on his study of nerves, how they affect the control of movement, and how they're structured. He and his brother also recently published an illustrated book on surgery. It's quite amazing. Not only are the Bell brothers brilliant scientists, they are also artistic. They did their own illustrations."

"Indeed. Men after my own heart," Diego remarked, trying not to say too much.

"And Doctor Itard has done remarkable research into how we hear…he's confirmed otosclerosis – the gradual loss of hearing, mostly in the elderly, but sometimes even in young people – usually having something to do with some prior injury to one's middle ear bones. It's said that Ludwig von Beethoven may have suffered from it – but that's not confirmed."

"This is so interesting, Jackson. Gracias – I – I don't want to keep you – but this has been extremely satisfying – and stimulating."

"Si, I too enjoyed it. And now, if you'll excuse me, Don Diego, I need to check on a few patients."

"Absolutely. Let me know if I can be of any help to you – in any way, Jackson. I'll be out of here by the time you get back."

Z

When Diego left the doctor's pueblo office, he went to the Guardian to typeset. That was always a long, tedious job placing each letter one-by-one, making sure the style and point size were consistent.

He seems to be changing his opinion about me, thought Diego. Maybe he's just nervous meeting people for the first time. He seems friendly enough now. He certainly is knowledgeable. Maybe he is exactly what this pueblo needs in order to grow and progress.

Z

Jackson didn't take long in checking on the two patients he went to see…a gout patient, and a child with a sore throat. He hurried back because he wanted to begin sifting through Hernandez's patient files, especially Don Diego's. He wanted to know Diego's medical history. You never know what a person's medical file will tell about a person, Jackson thought. Even though I rather like Don Diego, I want to know things he doesn't tell me. Since I'm to become his doctor, I need to know everything I can about him. True to his word, Diego had already left.

He pulled the file out and began to read… Hmmmm, he thought. The usual childhood injuries and illnesses – but as an adult within the last few years – a severe concussion as a result of a fall from a horse, a broken leg, an arm wound. The mid-upper arm is rather an unusual place for a sword stab – not a slash, a stab. Hmmm. It does happen, but not often. Interesting. I remember hearing about that – a swordfight with his long-lost 'brother.' And that broken leg a couple months before that – he's recovered well from that – no limp at all. The way he broke it – distracting a loco bull in the plaza – with a broomstick. That's interesting. For someone who seems to go out of his way to avoid conflict – he certainly has his share of injuries gained from conflict…whether it's with a bull or a brother. Here's another anomaly…there are no entries for almost three years – after he was home from Spain. Well – maybe he was healthy.

Jackson began to think about Zorro. I wonder who he is – and what injuries or illnesses he's had. He probably wouldn't come to Doctor Hernandez unless he was desperate. I think I'll talk to Sergeant Mendoza about Zorro. Maybe he knows something that will help me figure out who this Zorro character is. I wish I could remember more about him, Jackson thought. I know he's tall; he's agile, quick and fast. That would mean excellent reflexes, physical condition, etc. Hmmm. I'll have to give this some thought.

TBC