Lesson 1: Truth can never be hidden
Diego's letters started arriving in Los Angeles about two months after he had left, each time in a batch of three: one for his father, one for Felipe, and one for Victoria and her brothers.
The first ones were from Acapulco, and only included an account of the voyage there, which, for reasons of good sense, omitted giving many details about the sailing and other lessons Diego had been given. He also barely mentioned the other passengers, since, at the time, he did not have much opportunity to get to know them, but he did talk a lot about the life on board the ship and the sea creatures he spotted, such as dolphins, whales, and even a shark once.
The next letters he had sent from Pueblo and included drawings of the town and some exotic birds Diego had seen on his way there.
About the same time he reached Madrid, the third batch was delivered, these ones sent from Veracruz, and including information on the ship he was to board, and the probable date at which he was due to arrive at his destination. Again, as he had previously done, he also included a few drawings of the port and of some of the views on the way.
Victoria avidly read each one of his letters, then spent hours each night and morning staring at the drawings he had enclosed for her and her brothers but which she always insisted on keep for herself.
ZZZ
After convincing the man guarding the eastern entrance to the park to let him in, Diego strolled its alleys for a while, then chose a bench facing the lake and began drawing.
About an hour and a half later, an older man showed up and looked rather disapprovingly towards him.
"I sit on this bench every afternoon at this hour." He muttered as Diego, noticing him standing there, raised his head to look at him.
The younger man nodded with a smile and gathered the finished sheets which he had placed next to him, providing the older man with plenty of room to sit. "Please!" He invited him.
The man frowned at noticing Diego wasn't leaving, as he had expected him to. Then, he sat down and took out some bread he had in a handkerchief, throwing pieces of it at the ducks and swans floating on the lake. As several pigeons started coming down, he threw some bread for them, as well.
"You have an eye for drawing." The older man mentioned at glancing over to Diego's drawing.
"Thank you, Señor." He answered.
"It was an observation, not a compliment." The older man replied.
"I guess it depends on how one wants to take it." The tall caballero stated with a grin.
"Did we meet before? I feel I have." The man uttered staring at him.
"No. It's the first time I have come to this park and barely arrived in Madrid, a few days ago. I must have one of those faces people simply find familiar." Diego replied.
"Must be… Did your tutor teach you to draw?"
"No. My mother did. She was exceptionally good at it. But, then, my mother was exceptional in every way." He answered with some sadness in his voice.
"Was? How long ago did you lose her?"
"Five years."
"I lost my daughter nineteen years ago. She was the most amazing young woman I had ever met." The man answered sadly.
"I'm sorry to hear that. How old was she when she passed?" Diego asked, trying to be polite.
"She only died a few years back, as well. But I hadn't seen her in almost two decades. That was when I truly lost her." The older man answered.
"I wish there was a device. Something that could help people see and hear their loved ones, even when they are far, far away." Diego told him.
"That would be something!" The older man answered with a smile. "You have people you love who are far away?"
"Don't we all?"
"I guess… I have a grandson I haven't seen since he was a baby. And his father, who was like a son to me… at least until he took my grandson and my daughter away." The old man told him. "Do you play chess, young man?" He asked as he finished the bread.
"A little," Diego answered.
"Good! There are a few tables just over there!" The older man indicated towards a gazebo situated no more than forty feet away. He then stood up looking expectantly towards Diego, who felt obliged to humor him.
"You said you know a little!" The older man chided Diego when he easily won their first game.
"I might have downplayed that… a little." He replied with a grin. "Truth is, my father loves the game, and so did my mother. I was winning against them both by the time I was eight."
"My daughter also used to beat me at chess." The old man stated.
Diego nodded with a sad smile, thinking of his own mother. About an hour later, they took their goodbyes as the old man returned to his bench, and Diego returned to Mateo's house.
The following day, after spending the morning exploring the town, Diego took lunch in a tavern, then found himself drawn back to the park where he continued his sketches. Half an hour after he arrived, so did the old man who again came to feed the birds, at the same hour as the previous day. As both seemed happy to have some company, that scene repeated itself the following four days, during which neither one even considered introducing himself, happy with the anonymity. They did, however, discuss a large array of subjects, from politics to philosophy, and from architecture to ornithology.
"May I see your drawings?" The older man asked one afternoon.
Diego agreed and gave him his sketchbook.
"You certainly have an eye for this!" His older companion clearly complimented him this time.
The caballero smiled and offered him the drawing on which he had dwelled the most.
"This is worthless without the artist's signature!" Came the reply.
Again Diego grinned and signed it on the lower right corner. "I doubt it will ever be worth anything, but here you are!" He said, handing it over.
His companion glanced at the signature, and the blood drained from his face. After a few moments of studying it intently, he glanced back at the young caballero who, again, just smiled, a little puzzled by the expression on the old man's face.
"What did you say your… name was?" He asked Diego.
"I don't believe I said… I didn't think you cared to know, Señor." He answered. "But, if you do…" the old man nodded, "my name is Diego de la Vega. Pleased to meet you!" He said as he extended his hand.
"Diego… de la Vega?"
"Yes." He answered, retrieving his hand when the older man didn't shake it.
"Not… Diego de la Vega, son of Elena de Lara and Alejandro de la Vega, born in Madrid on February 19th, 1788!?" The man asked, visibly shaken.
"Yes… That would be me…" Now it was both of them to look dumbfounded at each other. "How do you know -"
"Diego? My Diego?" The man again asked as tears gathered in his eyes. "My grandson, Diego?"
"Your… grandson? You are Don Emmanuel de Lara?"
The older man didn't answer, just reached to embrace him and held him strongly for quite some time before he let him go. Diego wasn't sure how to react.
"How? Why… How long have you been here? Why haven't you told us you were coming? Why haven't you, at least, visited?" The Count asked.
"I… I did. My tutor delivered the letter informing you I was coming over seven months ago, after I got accepted at the university, and I wrote you myself from Cadiz, when I first arrived, a little over two weeks before I got to Madrid. When nobody came to greet me, I came by the house and was turned away. The servant who opened said you had forbidden everyone from receiving me…"
"What? No! That can't be! I would have never given such an order! You're my only grandson, Diego. I have been waiting for nineteen long years to see you again." The nobleman assured him, unable to stop a few tears from falling from his eyes.
"Well… I am certainly happy to hear that!" The caballero answered with a smile as he embraced the old nobleman again. "I was heartbroken when I was told you didn't want to meet me."
"That was a lie, and you should have known better! I've always mentioned in my letters that I hoped to one day embrace you! You... You must come to meet my sons and my daughter-in-law!" Don Emmanuel stated. "And I don't care in what inn you've been staying, but you're moving in with us! I want my grandson to have proper accommodations."
"I'll gladly come to meet my uncles and aunt, Grandfather, but… well… when I was turned away, I moved into my former tutor's house. So I already have very proper accommodations, you needn't worry about that."
"I don't care! You're moving in with your family, and I will not take 'No' for an answer! And when I get my hands on whoever it was who turned you away from my door, he'll feel the full extent of my wrath!" The Count said, raising his right fist as he used his left hand to take Diego's arm and guided him towards one of the park's exits.
"It was a woman, actually," Diego muttered, at a loss to understand why he had been misinformed.
"A woman?" He wondered.
"Yes… A woman in her late forties." He muttered.
"Honoria!" The old man stated furiously.
They headed straight ahead, on a long street which Diego already recognized as the one on which his grandfather's house was situated. The old man was angrily muttering to himself, and Diego found that he reminded him of his father when he was in a bad mood.
Reaching their destination, he knocked on the door and a servant opened, so Don Emmanuel dragged Diego inside, shouting for Honoria to get there.
"She's not here, Señor!" The servant told him. "Señora Carolina sent her to buy some teas. But you should sit down, Master... I'll get Don Juan Carlos!"
"Sit down? How am I to strangle that woman sitting down?" He wondered, then relaxed at seeing his grandson's amused face. "Alfonso! That's why you looked so familiar to me. You look a lot like Alfonso." He uttered. "May his soul rest in peace! He was a good man, your uncle. I liked him better than your father, and I've always loved your father like a son. But then, Alfonso didn't take my only daughter and grandson away! Come, Diego! Come sit down, until my son gets here!"
The caballero followed his grandfather to a big sala and, as invited, sat on a chair to the right side of the room, close to the door.
"Father!" Juan Carlos' voice was heard just as the older man was about to sit opposite Diego. "I have dreadful news, Father!" He said.
"Let's wait for Honoria to bring the teas, before giving him the news!" Dona Carolina advised as she followed her husband, neither one noticing Diego, who stood up as they came in, waiting to be introduced.
"What is it so dreadful that you sent her to get teas instead of keeping her here so I can strangle the witch?"
"Strangle? Oh, no, Father! She just delivered the letter. She's not to blame for Diego's death!" Juan Carlos answered.
"I told you to wait to tell him!" Carolina chided him.
"What are you talking about? Have you two gone mad?" The old man asked as his grandson was curiously listening in.
"Unfortunately, not! Look, Father, we just received this letter from the Port Authorities in Cadiz. He was coming here to meet us, but there was a shipwreck…"
"May I see that?" Diego asked from behind them, and they both turned towards him, startled.
As Juan Carlos looked at him, perplexed, the letter in one hand, Diego simply reached and carefully took it to read it.
"This letter says there was a shipwreck, but they found the passenger ledger." He stated after glancing at it. "They say nobody survived. It would have taken at least three months before anyone would have started to suspect a ship sailing from Veracruz in July was lost at sea, and any passenger list would have been lost with the wreckage. Besides, how would the authorities have even known to write you? Whoever did this wasn't even smart enough to do it right. But what was their purpose?" He wondered.
"I'm sorry… Who are you?" Juan Carlos eventually asked.
"Oh! I'm the very-much-alive Diego de la Vega, Uncle." He answered extending his hand and shaking the one the older man offered hesitantly. "And you must be my Aunt Carolina." He proceeded to say as he bowed to kiss the woman's hand.
"I… I don't understand… If you are Diego, and you're alive… Why would anyone inform us you have died?" Juan Carlos wondered as his wife fainted. Diego managed to catch her before she touched the floor, as her husband was too dumbfounded to react.
"It's what I was wondering about, also." The tall caballero replied to him as he carried the older woman to a couch.
"Go get the salts!" Don Emmanuel ordered his son who, this time, hurriedly followed his instructions.
About five minutes later, after they had managed to wake up Carolina and get her to drink a glass of water, Álvaro, the Count's second-born son, arrived.
"Father! Where's Father?" They heard him ask the servants.
"We're here!" Juan Carlos indicated, and his brother followed his voice to the living room.
"I met Honoria on the way and she informed me..." He started saying as he entered, clearly concerned for his father, then stopped at seeing Diego.
"Whatever that woman said, it's a darn lie! As you can perfectly see, Diego is alive and well, and back where he belongs!" The Count told him.
"I'm happy to finally meet you, Uncle Álvaro!" Diego stated as he stood up and came to greet the older man. His uncle took another good look at him and avidly embraced him with a wide smile and tears in his eyes.
"This is a miracle!" He uttered as he let go of him, then took another good look at his face. "Had I not known Alfonso was dead at the time of your conception, I would have seriously questioned your parentage!" He then stated with a chuckle.
"Yes… Several people have now told me I look a lot like my uncle." Diego agreed. "Although my father swears I look just like he did when he was young, except for the hairline, which I have from Mother, and my eyes, which are blue, like my great-grandfather Eduardo's."
A quarter of an hour later, as they sat down and started talking, Honoria came with the medical herbs and froze at seeing the caballero.
"You! You have quite a few things to explain!" Don Emmanuel told her as soon as he saw her, standing up.
"He… He's an impostor, Señor!" She tried to defend herself pointing at Diego. "He's just trying to get his hands on your money! Your true grandson is dead!"
"HE is my grandson! How dare you call him 'impostor', and how dare you come up with such a lie?" He asked as he turned completely red at her words.
The woman got scared, and, letting her basket fall, she took a few steps back, after which she hurriedly exited, and ran away. With a glance exchanged amongst them, the three young men followed her outside, but the woman managed to hide in time, and they didn't know in which direction to go in order to find her. They all returned about five minutes later, empty-handed.
Meanwhile, the Count gave orders for his entire staff to gather and, as his sons and grandson returned, he introduced Diego, informing them that they should treat him like any other of their masters. Then, after a short discourse about trust, he asked to be informed immediately, should Honoria return.
The woman did come back later that evening, while her patrons and the other servants were already sleeping, so nobody saw her. Entering through the back door, to which she still had the key, she gathered the few possessions she had, and, taking the five hundred pesos she had set aside, she headed to Ynez's house to inform her that the 'impostor' had convinced the Count that he was his grandson, and to demand her remaining payment before leaving for the village where she was born and raised for the first few years of her life.
Ynez was in a terrible mood for several days after Honoria's visit. Praying that 'the idiot' had done as she had asked, and destroyed every message she had sent her, she still eventually decided she shouldn't risk being discovered. Thus, she sold her apartment in Madrid, took everything she had, and followed her son to Segovia.