May 9th, 1818

My dear son,

I hope this letter reaches you before your birthday on July twenty-fifth. I can hardly believe that eighteen years have passed since your birth. Your mother would be so proud of you. I wish you good health and happiness.

Alejandro paused to imagine how Diego must look now. He might have grown a little, perhaps he had filled out a bit. He hoped Diego was staying active, but he couldn't imagine that he wasn't. Diego had been active since the minute he was born. And once his son started walking – oh Lord – Alejandro hadn't been able to keep up with him since that day.

Tell me how the end of semester goes. I hope that you place well in the class rankings.

Diego had sent him a copy of his marks for both mid term and final examinations from the previous semester and Alejandro had been pleased with his performance, he had placed particularly well in philosophy. He hoped that Diego would place well again in all his subjects.

Will you spend the summer in Madrid? Or will you visit your relatives in Barcelona? I have had a letter from your Tía Ignacia. She writes that she very much enjoyed your company last summer and would very much like for you to stay with her again.

He hoped that Diego would go spend the summer with his wife's family. That way he would not be alone without even classmates to distract him. He also wanted Diego to have a close bond with Isabela's relatives, she would have wanted that very much.

Whatever you decide be sure to write me often. I am interested in your deeds no matter how small. I hope to hear from you soon.

Your loving father,

Alejandro

Sealing and addressing the letter Alejandro tucked it into his jacket pocket. He would head into town in the evening to post it as the stage wasn't due for some hours. All day long he kept the letter close to his heart and thought of Diego constantly. He wished he could see his son. Already a year had passed, but he felt as though he had aged ten years in that time.

June 20th, 1818

Dear Papá,

I am sorry for not writing you in some time. I have only now been free of examinations for a little while. After I finished exams I traveled to Barcelona and am once again with Tía and Tío and the cousins. They send their love. Today is the first day I've had an opportunity to write, the summer holidays have already been filled with excitement.

Diego smiled as he recalled the events of the previous week.

I had just arrived in Barcelona and came at once to Tía Ignacia. Tío Estevan was there when I arrived and let me tell you that a man doesn't exist who knows how to make excitement out of nowhere like Tío Estevan. We promptly took Tío Estevan's boat and went out on the sea. Tío Estevan and I were accompanied by a "friend" of his, a lady whose name I will not mention here. We were not on the boat even fifteen minutes when the unfortunate vessel began to sink! I suppose it is best that it began to sink sooner rather than later because once it began taking on water it went quickly. Even still, the beach was a fair distance and there was no hope but to swim for it. It is my recollection that we were less than two hundred yards offshore, but uncle swears it was five hundred. It is a good thing I am a strong swimmer and that the water was quite calm because I ended up helping the lady, who could not swim at all, while Tío Estevan did the most rudimentary doggy paddle all the way back. I'm afraid the lady was most upset by the entire ordeal and gave uncle the most ruthless scolding I have ever heard.

Diego leaned back in his chair and laughed softly to himself. His uncle certainly had a way of getting himself into trouble. He leaned forward to finish the narrative but stopped, hearing a noise at the door. He was sure it was one of his cousins. Rising as quietly as possible he crept to the door, attempting to make no sound as he crossed the room.

The sound of a small person reaching for the latch clued him in. He grinned and pulled the door open quite suddenly and said, "Boo!"

His two and a half year old cousin, Jacinta, stumbled backward and squealed with delight. This was a new game they had started playing and she loved it every time.

"Dieguito!" she said throwing her arms into the air to show that she wanted picked up.

Diego swept her into his arms and kissed her nose. "What do you want, mi princesa?"

Jacinta leaned forward, kissing Diego's nose in turn. "Come play with us, Dieguito."

"In a moment, I am writing a letter to my papá now."

Jacinta wrapped her arms around Diego's neck. "Two minutes," she said in imitation of how her mother told her to wait for something when she was interrupting.

Diego laughed and carried her back to the desk with him. Shifting her to sit on his left knee his picked up his pen again, rereading his letter to remember where he had stopped.

As you can imagine, the lady is no longer speaking to Tío Estevan. He is utterly heartbroken and swears that he was born under an unlucky star to be so ill-fated in love.

"Dieguito," Jacinta whined leaning her head against Diego and looking up at him. "Let's go."

"Alright, alright." Diego laughed. "Just let me write my name."

Now, I am afraid I must leave this letter because Jacinta is insisting that I come play with her. I hope you are well, tell me all that is happening in the pueblo.

Your loving son,

Diego

P.S. As for my class placement as a result of my exams I am pleased to report that I placed in the top twenty percent.

Rising, Diego hoisted Jacinta up on his shoulder much to her delight. "Let's go, mi princesa."

September 7th, 1818

My dear son,

I have received your letter of June twentieth and must say that it filled me with no small amount of anxiety. You should use caution in your dealings with your mother's brother, he is always finding himself in some trouble or another.

Alejandro shook his head silently. The idea of his son drowning because of Estevan's carelessness gave him chills. And near drowning was certainly not the worst situation Estevan might drag Diego into. He could imagine thousands of situations, each more terrifying than the last, where his son would come to some harm because of Estevan's disregard and Diego's love of adventure.

Do not trust him overly, he has a penchant for mischief and I do not want you involved in his misdeeds.

What was worse was that, Estevan was charismatic and could convince anyone to do just about anything.

Take care of yourself and keep your wits about you.

Alejandro sighed. There was little else he could do to protect his son from so far away.

I am pleased to learn of your class placement but I expect you will endeavor to work harder and place better this year. Do not let yourself be distracted from your studies.

Alejandro put his pen into the inkwell and rubbed his eyes. He was beginning to think he would need to buy those spectacles after all. It was getting hard to read Diego's letters because of his son's fine handwriting. His own hand, he noticed, was rather bolder than it used to be. Diego would return from Spain a man grown, and would find his father a wizened shell.

Irritated, Alejandro stood from the desk and walked around the sala. The silence was oppressive. He had begun spending more time in town and visiting the other dons because of the omnipresent silence that pervaded his home. He felt like a fossil in a museum.

Sitting down once more he took up the quill again.

I hope you are well. I miss you, write to me soon.

Your loving father,

Alejandro

There was so much more that he wanted to say, but it was difficult to find the right words. He left the letter on the desk throughout the day in case some spark of inspiration came to him, but by evening time there was nothing. A bit disgruntled he folded the letter and sealed it for mailing. One of these days he would know just what to say to Diego, even if it was not today.

September 7th, 1818

My dear papá,

I received your letter from May ninth, thank you for the birthday wishes. It was spent most enjoyably in the company of my relatives. Marta and Jacinta even made me a crown of flowers which I wore in a most distinguished fashion the entire day.

Diego reread his father's letter. There wasn't much else to respond to. He wished his father would be more diligent about including news from the pueblo. He felt as though he was completely cut off from his life in California. A letter from home was almost an elixir of life for him, he was certain Spain would grind him to dust without such refreshment. Or perhaps he was just in a dour mood that day. It seemed as though nothing had gone right for him since the beginning of semester.

I implore you to give me some word of home. How goes the work at the mission? Are the vineyards growing well? What about the fruit and cattle? How are my friends and neighbors? Do not be so spartan in your replies!

Perhaps he should not be so demanding, but he had looked through all his father's letters and found only the most meager scraps of information. He was sure he wouldn't survive unless he had some more news of his beloved home. Something to take his mind off the dismal start he had to the semester – academically and athletically.

"Diego," Ramón Castillo's hushed whisper sounded just over his shoulder.

Diego started at the unexpected intrusion into his thoughts. "Sí," he said turning to see his friend, a bit cross.

"'My dear papá,' Diego, don't tell me you still address your father as papá." Ramón's voice carried all the condescension of an older brother.

"I didn't," Diego pointed out, covering the letter with his hand. "Do you need something?"

"Diego, Diego, I just came to the library to meet another friend of mine. I had no idea you would be here." Ramón clapped him on the shoulder. "I should have expected it though. It is all clear to me now. You spend your time in the library studying and writing letters instead of in the fencing salle practicing your footwork."

Ramón's voice was easy and casual and it rankled Diego deeply. "It seems you have forgotten that I placed second in the rankings among the second year students. I do not think my studying has been a detriment to my footwork."

"But it has, Diego, my friend," said Ramón, "if you had been drilling instead of writing your papá you might have actually placed first. Instead, it seems you are doomed to a life of sloppy seconds in my shadow."

"Isn't your friend waiting for you?" Diego was quite done with this conversation. He did not need to be reminded that Ramón had placed higher than him among the second year students. He was sure he wouldn't be able to forget it even if he wanted to.

Ramón laughed. "It seems that I tire you so easily these days. Very well. I will see you at the fencing salle tonight. Con permiso."

Diego nodded, as cordial as he could be and Ramón finally left him to find the student he was meeting.

Diego turned back to his letter, but his thoughts were of Ramón. He had been bested by him during their first tournament, but it was just a twist of luck that Ramón had won. Though, if he said any of this people would paint him as a sore loser, so he had to keep such thoughts to himself. He knew he had the skill to win the next tournament and he fully intended to do so.

Papá, this semester seems to have taken a very rough start, I hope that it will improve some over the coming weeks. I have fallen short of some personal goals and it seems as though I am playing catch-up already. I know you and Mamá tried to bring me up as a son of Spain, but there are times when I feel as though I am not a Spaniard but instead some sort of extraterrestrial from the moon.

And at times he did feel that way. Sometimes it was the remarks on his "accent" or his style of clothes. Other times it was just not having a common frame of reference with the other young men. Most of them had lived in Madrid their entire lives, they had private schools and tutors to prepare them for university. More than a few moved in the same social circles and knew each other before they even started on the first day. Diego felt like a fish out of water. Or maybe more like a fish out of his depth in a much larger pond than he was ready for. Sighing, Diego looked at the last sentence and decided to cross it out. There was no need to send his father a letter filled with his fleeting frustrations. He could cope with those on his own.

I hope you are well, I send my love,

Diego

Laying the letter aside to dry Diego reached for his books. Even if he wasn't a better fencer than Ramón, he was smarter than him, so there was that.

November 30th, 1818

My dear son,

I hope you find yourself in good health. I am writing in response to your letter of September seventh.

Alejandro wasn't entirely sure what to make of Diego's letter. There was a plea for news from home followed by a complaint about the difficulty of the semester. Then there was the line Diego had scratched out for some reason followed by hasty parting words.

I know you are a hard worker, I am certain you will be able to recover by the end of semester. Do not despair, instead apply yourself diligently.

Of course, by the time Diego got this letter he would already be attending lectures next semester. Sometimes it was exhausting thinking about his communication with Diego. Answering a letter that just arrived was like trying to speak into the past, and writing a letter about current events was like trying to speak into the future.

As for news of the pueblo, I am afraid there is not much. However, I will tell you what little there is. The harvest for all our native crops has gone well, there has been enough rain for everything to grow most excellently. The cattle herds are doing fine, as are the horses. I am going to hire Benito on as head vaquero in the spring. I believe he will do well in the role. The hacienda and the pueblo are exactly as you left it and I am certain they will remain that way until you return.

Alejandro wracked his brain for anything even the least bit interesting that he might write about. He wished, for only the ten thousandth time, that Isabela were here. She would have known what to write, what questions to ask. He tried to imagine what she might have written their son.

Have you been introduced at court yet? Doing so could go a long way to helping you along in life. Be sure to dress appropriately. Charro suits are fine for the lifestyle in California but hardly decent for court.

Alejandro hoped that Diego's relatives in Spain would help him be properly prepared for an introduction at court. He was worried that Diego would be ill-prepared for socializing at court. He had never been to court himself but he had heard more than enough stories. It was a whole different world out there, one full of intrigue and drama.

If you do attend court keep yourself out of trouble, don't let yourself be drawn into gossip and rumors. Do not go looking for trouble.

That was the best advice Alejandro could offer. Picking up Diego's letter again he scanned through the lines, his eyes coming to rest on the ones that were scratched out. What did Diego want to say but then thought better of?

Standing, he took Diego's letter and went to the window to look at it in brighter light. He squinted, trying to bring the words into better focus. The improved lighting brought the words into sharp relief. Through the scratched out line he could make out a few of the words, "I am not a Spaniard but instead some sort of extraterrestrial from the moon." The line was perplexing. Sometimes he really didn't understand what went on in Diego's head.

Deciding to sign and seal his letter later, he folded Diego's most recent missive and tucked it into his breast pocket. There were other things to attend to today, but he wanted to keep Diego close all the same.

December 12th, 1818

My dear father,

Thank you for your letter of September seventh. I will take your words about Tío Estevan into advisement.

Diego twirled his pen between his fingers, a tad aggravated. He really hadn't expected a long distance lecture from his father about his uncle's shortcomings when he had written the story about the boat. He just thought the anecdote was amusing. He had forgotten how humorless his father could be at times.

I am almost done with the semester and I my marks have improved since the beginning of term. I am confident that I will finish well among the second year students.

Diego wasn't sure how confident he really was. He was certain to place better than Ramón Castillo though, and that was all that mattered. During the academic term he and Ramón had gone back and forth in the rankings among the second year fencers. Each had taken the first position four times now, with the other always coming in second. The competition was invigorating, but Ramón always managed to get under his skin. They would be squaring off for the Royal Competitive Trophy soon.

I know you will receive this letter long after Christmas, but I will extend you my good wishes during the holiday all the same. The city is decorated most beautifully, it is probably my favorite time of the year here. Tío Estevan has come to stay in Madrid for a time and he will be accompanying me to a court gala this evening. I dare say that he is determined to find a well positioned wife at last. Perhaps he does not have such a bad idea.

Diego lifted his pen, second guessing if should have mentioned Uncle Estevan at all after his father's reaction from the last time. He smiled to himself a little, at least his father would have a little something to worry about.

I hope you are well and will enjoy the Christmas holidays in Los Angeles. I miss the way we observe the holiday at home, I cannot wait until I can celebrate with you again.

Feliz Navidad from your loving son,

Diego

Rising from his desk, Diego left the letter to dry as he began to dress for appearing at court. He wasn't going to post the letter until tomorrow anyway and he wanted to look his best tonight just in case a certain señorita happened to be at the gala as well.

...

P.S. Father, it is nearly four o'clock in the morning and I have only just returned home. The night was a most excellent one. I recommend you come some time. The music was superb. I danced all night. The only problem was that on my way home I had my watch stolen by a pickpocket. It was the one you gave me with my name engraved in it. I am going to bed now.

Tossing down his pen Diego rubbed his eyes, feeling dizzy. He was drunk from tiredness – and wine. Loosening his tie he stumbled into his bed fully clothed.

March 10th, 1819

My dear son,

Your letter came to me a month delayed so I am afraid this letter is somewhat tardy. I hope you have achieved high marks in all areas of study. I know the spring semester is now well underway and by the time you receive this it will be the end of your second year of studies. Please write me when you know your class ranking for the year.

I am sorry for the loss of your watch. I am sure you have replaced it by now, you will have the pick of fine watches to choose from in Madrid.

Alejandro leaned back in his chair and adjusted his spectacles. The library was quiet at this late hour. The clocked chimed a quarter to midnight. Perhaps it would have been more honest to write the date as the eleventh instead of tenth.

Do not become too involved in your uncle's affairs.

Alejandro snorted to himself. Affairs was certainly the right word for Estevan's romances.

Only remember that your uncle's ideas are rarely good or worth imitating.

He didn't want to imagine his teenage son getting involved in a scandalous love affair with the wrong woman because he had fallen under Estevan's tutelage. He wondered if Diego had been spending much time courting in Madrid. He had sent his son to Spain at sixteen years of age, but that was more than two years ago. He would be nineteen in the summer and now might reasonably be looking for a wife. Perhaps Diego would return from Spain both educated and married.

Still, I hope you can make some good connections among the people at court, it may serve you well in the future.

The pueblo had word just yesterday that we will have a new comandante in the garrison. He is to arrive from Mexico City later this week. I hope I don't bore you, this is the most exciting news we have had this year. We are experiencing good weather now, spring is in full bloom. I wish you were here to see it, your beloved hills are most magnificent.

Did Diego even care about his hills anymore? His requests for information about the pueblo were fewer of late. His son had certainly changed in the last two years, what was he like now?

Tell me about yourself, Diego. I long to hear your thoughts. I remember when we would spend our evenings playing chess in the sala, now our chessboard stands dusty with disuse. I am eager to resume our games upon your return.

I hope you are in good health and being attentive to your studies.

Your loving father,

Alejandro

May 25th, 1819

My dear father,

I, too, miss our chess matches. I play with some of the fellows here but don't enjoy it half as much as when we would play. You do not need to worry about my following in the footsteps of Tío Estevan, so rest easy about that. He is far too busy wooing a wealthy countess these days to spend any time corrupting me.

As for news of me, I did manage to recover the engraved pocket watch that was stolen. I am most pleased to have it back.

Diego turned in his chair. Bernardo sat on the bed mending buttons for Diego. Five months ago he had been on his way home from the winter gala and had stopped on a street corner to catch a breath of air and calm his dizzy head. He must have made an easy mark, leaning against the building for support. Bernardo had stumbled into him as one who is drunk then stepped away with his hands out, begging. Diego remembered giving him a few coins and going on his way, not realizing until he had arrived at his apartment that he no longer had his watch.

The next day he had retraced his steps through the city. Near the place he had been robbed he had come around a corner very quickly and found himself face to face with Bernardo for the second time in as many days. Bernardo tried to run, but Diego was far quicker. He had demanded his watch back but had found Bernardo unable to speak. Well, speak with his mouth at least, the man had an impressive and easily understood vocabulary of hand gestures – if one had the patience to let him speak at his own speed. Diego's curiosity had been piqued and even after getting back his watch he had spent some time talking to the man. At the end of that time he realized that Bernardo had been forced to a life of begging and petty crime because he could not speak.

While he was not generally one for snap decisions, he had made one on the spot there. He wanted to give this man a chance, to help him in some way. And to that end-

I have decided to take on a manservant, not because of I am needful of one as much as it is extremely fashionable to have one and to be without is almost a blot on the reputation of a young man at the university. Especially one that frequents himself at court.

His father wouldn't understand him hiring a former thief to be his manservant. Diego was honestly surprised he had done it. At the beginning he had been convinced that it was only a matter of time until Bernardo stole all his valuables and headed for the streets again. He had not. Five months later Bernardo was still here and seemed to be more than happy with his steady employment. Not only was he a good manservant, but he was a sensible man who Diego enjoyed the company of.

I hope you do not think me too frivolous. Believe me, it is money well spent.

My studies are going well, I anticipate a better class rank than last year. I will write you as soon as the marks are given. I have found myself to be most competitive of late and I have applied all my energies to my books and to my sports. I have improved dramatically since the beginning of last term.

Bernardo had finished with the buttons and began polishing Diego's jewellery. When he came to Diego's fencing medal he shined it with extra care, placing it prominently on the mantle to dazzle in the sunlight.

While Diego was proud of his accomplishment (the medal had been won during the tournament for the Royal Competitive Trophy) he was a bit irked that Ramón Castillo had won the cup. The medal was for his third place win, quite an accomplishment for a second year student but not quite the accomplishment that winning the cup was. He now had one goal: win the Royal Competitive Trophy.

I will write to you again soon.

Your loving son,

Diego