Chapter 4

"Did you have a good time?" his father asked when he found them laughing. "It's good to hear you laugh, Diego. You're always so serious."

"Victoria has been talking about the people in the pueblo and telling me about Sergeant Mendoza," he smiled. "Of course, I didn't remember anything, but it may help me to remember when I meet them. What do you think if we visit the tavern tomorrow, Father? I can't wait to taste Victoria's food. I guess it is as good as she is beautiful." Victoria looked at him uncomfortably at his compliment. "Oh, I'm sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I can't refrain complimenting you when I look at such a beauty. Forgive me again?"

"I will, Diego."

On Victoria's face was an expression of helplessness as she turned to his father, exchanging a look with him. "I understand now what you meant earlier, Don Alejandro, when you said Diego's memory loss is scary."

"Can you explain that to me, Father, Victoria?" he asked. "Why is it scary for you if I ask some question about myself, and why are you always staring at me whenever I say anything? Have I suddenly grown horns? Look at me! I'm still Diego. You have known me all my life and probably know me better than I do myself right now."

His father let himself fall into a chair with an expression of desperation. "That's the problem, Diego. We don't know you. We never really knew you and only realized it today."

"What do you mean by that? You are my father, and Victoria and I have been friends for years, as Victoria said herself. I'm trying to regain my memory, and you can't or won't help me because you don't know me?"

"It's not that I don't want to help you, Diego. You are my son, and I love you, but to see you today and comparing you to the Diego I met the past years... it's hard."

"You're right, Don Alejandro. I have been so blind all these years." Victoria started to cry, and he instantly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to hand it to her. "Thank you, Diego."

"Can you please explain what is going on? Father? Why are you crying, Victoria?" He grew more and more irritated as this was continuing. "Your cryptic words don't help me at all, and I'd like to know what you are talking about."

"It's hard to explain...," Victoria searched for words as she wiped her tears. "You're not the Diego I knew or who I thought I knew. I have been so blind that I never saw you. Forgive me?"

"Forgive you for what, Victoria? I don't know what you are talking about, and I can't remember either. Was there a problem with your eyes? An illness? What has it to do with me?"

"Oh, Diego, you really don't understand!" Victoria started crying again.

"And I won't understand if you don't tell me what you're talking about," he said irritated. "If you don't tell me, I will go to the pueblo and maybe the sergeant can give me some answers. You told me he was my friend, and he will answer my questions."

"No! You can't go to the pueblo!" Victoria jumped to her feet. "It will be the death of you."

"Why not?" he asked, confused, standing up too.

"Victoria is right." His father had risen from his chair too and put a hand on his shoulder. "You can't go to the pueblo like this — without your memory." His father gently pushed him on the shoulder making him sit down again on the couch.

"Are you afraid I'll get lost or won't find my way?" he chuckled. "A servant can drive me."

"It's not that, Diego. It's you!" his father tried to explain. "It's too dangerous for you to go. You are not the Diego they know."

"Why does it matter if I remember myself or not? I can ask questions, and I'll get used to people staring at me."

"I don't know how explain this, Diego," his father said with a hint of frustration. " You are Diego, but you are Zorro too." His father looked at Victoria for confirmation who simply nodded.

"I know that I'm Zorro, but it's supposed to be a secret. How do you know, and why is it a problem? Zorro is dressed all in black, and as long as I don't do that, shouldn't I be fine?"

"No, you're not fine," Victoria said. "Even if you don't dress as Zorro, the alcalde will know you are him and arrest you."

"But I have been to the pueblo before, why is it a problem now? Why can't I go to the pueblo dressed as Diego when I could do so before?" he asked confused.

"Because you are not Diego! You are Zorro, and your clothing won't change anything anymore," Victoria tried to explain.

"Why?"

"Because the Diego we all knew was an act," his father said depressed. "For five years, you played an act around me, around Victoria, around everyone."

"How do you know that? Why do you think it was an act? Why do think you don't know me? You must know me! I'm your son! You need to help me to get back my memory!"

"The Diego I knew never made me compliments. Only Zorro did," Victoria said.

"Making you compliments will kill me?" he asked. "And if I don't? Can I go to the pueblo then?"

Victoria shook her head. "It won't be enough. You need to be Diego to go, and since you can't remember him, it's too dangerous. The alcalde will kill you."

"All this is confusing and giving me a headache." He braced his head in his hands. "It doesn't make any sense to me."

"You should better lie down again, Diego. The doctor told you to take it slowly," his father said.

He nodded in agreement as his headaches grew worse by the minute. Getting on his feet, he swayed a little and closed his exes. "Can I do something for you?" Victoria was standing next to him, putting her hand on his upper arm.

He felt the warmth of her hand seeping through his shirt as he stared at her. He wanted to take her into his arms, but he didn't want to scare her again. Instead, he brushed some hairs out of her face, touching her cheek with a tender caress. Somehow he remembered doing it before as they looked into each others eyes. "It will be all right," he whispered as he covered her cheek with his hand. "Everything will be all right. I promise you."

Victoria made a face as if she wanted to jump into his arms, but then the moment was gone, interrupted by another headache.

"Excuse me, please. I need to lay down again."

"I'll take you to your room, Diego," his father offered. "Will you come back tomorrow, Victoria? There is a lot we need to talk about."

"I will try to come during siesta if it's not too busy, Don Alejandro."

Fighting his dizziness, he let his father lead him back to his room where he went back to bed. He tried to sleep, but the encounter with Victoria kept him awake. He tried to understand what they had been talking about as he couldn't figure out the problem. He was Diego, wasn't he? They hold him that it was his name then why couldn't he go to the pueblo, and why didn't Victoria want him to make her compliments when she liked them? Nothing made sense, and he hoped he'd get his memory back soon.

He slept for the rest of the day and only woke up when it was already dark. The tray with his dinner indicated that he had slept through dinner. Though he wasn't very hungry he finished the tray and went back to bed, but he couldn't sleep anymore. His headaches were gone for the moment, and he decided to spend his time usefully by writing down what he knew about himself and others.

Name: Diego de la Vega. Age 27?,

studied in Madrid,

secret identity as Zorro, outlaw, dresses in black, defender of the pueblo

Family

Father: Alejandro de la Vega, 50?, haciendero

Mother: Felicidad, deceased,

Felipe, 16?, his charge and confidant

Servants: Maria, the cook at his father's hacienda

Friends: Victoria ?, 23?, tavern owner, cook, waitress in her tavern, brothers and father away in the army

He question-marked her last name, realizing he didn't know it, but it didn't matter. It would be easy to find out. The most import thing he knew about her. He loved her.

He needed to find out about his secret identity too. Felipe had told him that it had been a secret but how did his father and Victoria find out? Or did they knew from the start, and it had only been a secret to others? He needed to talk with Felipe about it, though communication was difficult when he didn't understand his signing. He sighed. Why was everything so difficult?

Leaning back into his pillows, he thought about the other people in the pueblo Victoria had talked about. Though she her descriptions of her patrons were livid it wasn't an exchange for meeting the people himself. If he wanted to make progress and eventually get back his memory he needed to meet them himself and go to the pueblo.