"Are the presents ready, Diego?" Don Alejandro asked as he returned home during siesta on Christmas Eve to find his son waiting in front of the house. "I had promised the padre they'd be there by the time the children return from the pueblo this evening."
"They are all wrapped up and already in the wagon. Felipe and I are just about to leave for the Mission." The tall caballero answered. "How is the padre, by the way?"
"Still feeling under the weather. I'm not sure he'll be able to hold the Christmas mass, tomorrow, though he insists he will…" The old haciendado muttered. "He needs some rest, but he's too stubborn to get any! The man is in his late 70s and still believes he's my age! At least, I convinced him to accept our carriage to bring him to the pueblo in the morning."
Saying that, the caballero left his heir and headed for the stables.
Diego watched him go with a smile, then, signing for Felipe, headed for the wagon and took the reins, directing the two horses towards the Mission of Saint Gabriel.
A cool breeze could be fell bringing the ocean's salty air inland and both companions took a few minutes to simply enjoy it.
"I remember that, when I was young, the orphanage was in the pueblo. It was in a small building next to a chapel that used to be where the current church is. The padre at the time wanted the children to grow up in the middle of the community. He thought that by raising them there they had better chances to be adopted. I don't recall exactly when and how he decided to move the children to the Mission…" Diego recounted for Felipe.
"How come you decided to keep me rather than take me to the orphanage?" The boy signed to ask.
His guardian smiled kindly at him before answering. "I could never consider the idea of leaving you in an orphanage, Felipe. The padre and his neophytes do their best, but there are already too many children in there care and they would have never been able to grant you the attention you needed. Besides, I have always believed that things happen for a reason. When I failed to find your relatives, I trusted God had a good reason for putting you in my path. And I was proved right. You may not be a De la Vega by name, Felipe, but you are like a son in my heart. And my father feels the same." Saying that, Diego looked at the boy, who had tears in his eyes and barely managed to make the sign for heart and father.
After leaving the presents, as well as several baskets of grains and beans they had taken to the Mission, Diego and Felipe hurried to return in order to attend Victoria's Christmas party.
The holidays that year passed peacefully, as the alcalde had decided to take a few days off to visit with an acquaintance in San Diego who he believed might be able to put in a good word for him with the governor. For a few days, while he was gone, everything seemed better in Los Angeles.
Then, the man returned, and it was business as usual, with Zorro having to ride out again every few days to prevent a new ill-conceived plan Ramone came up with.
ZZZ
It was on a warm morning in early January, that Sergeant Mendoza proudly walked inside the tavern and sat at one of the tables. "A bottle of your best wine, Senorita," he requested, addressing Alicia, "and a double portion of huevos rellenos."
"Victoria said not to give you any more food until you pay back what you owe her!" The young woman retorted.
"I will be paying today, Senorita." He answered with aplomb.
"Really?" She asked, folding her hands across her chest.
"Yes!"
"Well?" The young woman inquired as she neared his table, clearly expecting him to take out the money.
The lancer looked rather nervously at her. "I will pay this afternoon."
"Why not now?"
"Because…" he hesitated, looking around and lowering his tone of voice, "in the afternoon is when the army payroll is due to get here." He explained.
"Oh?" She inquired.
"But, please, Senorita, don't tell anyone!" the sergeant now whispered to her. "There might be bandits in the area, and the governor only sent two men with the money… He didn't want them to attract any unwanted attention, you see…"
She rolled her eyes but headed for the kitchen, hoping Victoria would not scold her if she gave the man his breakfast. Neither she, nor Mendoza granted much attention to the three strangers who soon left a couple of coins on their table and headed out of the tavern.
ZZZ
Around that exact time, at the hacienda, Diego was glancing through a book, Felipe standing right next to him. "Just as I thought!" He exclaimed, addressing the boy who was watching him inquisitively. "There is no record of the bird I saw this morning while riding back from the pueblo. I think I might have just discovered a new species, Felipe!" Saying that, the caballero headed for his desk and took a few sheets of paper he could use to draw on, as well as a pencil and some watercolors. "My cousin, Rafael, mentioned in his latest letter that there is a padre at the Mission in Santa Barbara who has taken it upon himself to categorize and record all the species of birds indigenous to California. I want to write to tell him about my discovery, but I'll also need drawings so that he might be able to compare them with the ones he already has. Go saddle the horses while I take my spyglass!" He told the boy.
Felipe nodded and headed for the stables.
The place where Diego, while riding as Zorro, had seen the beautiful blue-grey bird that very morning was about two miles east of the hacienda, and they made their way there after informing a servant of their whereabouts.
ZZZ
Around lunchtime, not finding his son home, Don Alejandro decided to head into town in order to have a talk with some of the dons he knew would be at the tavern.
*"Don Alejandro, riding on such a hot day?" Victoria asked as he met her on their way to Los Angeles, the young woman driving a wagon carrying a large wine barrel and several smaller ones, and the older caballero riding his favorite stallion.
"I don't know who's getting more exercise - my horse or me." He answered with a smile just as two soldiers rode past them. "The military payroll." He told Victoria, glancing at the soldiers. "I'm surprised they ride so fast when they get paid so little. Anyway, my horse must be thankful he doesn't have to ride like that anymore." He added.*
"Your stallion is quite old, isn't he?" The taverness inquired for the sake of the conversation.
"Alonso? Yes… He's almost 18. I don't think I'll be riding him for too long. I'd rather just let him spend his last years grazing in our pastures. It's why I am glad to have kept at least one of his offsprings."
"Oh?"
"Indeed. Did I ever show you Dulcinea? She looks just like her father, yet is a young mare, in her prime. She'll make a perfect replacement for him one of these days." He said. "And I'm the only one who can ride her thus far. She won't accept anyone else on her back. Though I don't think my son has tried yet…"
"Perhaps that is for the best, Don Alejandro…" Victoria said with a smile just as gunshots were heard down the road.
Without much hesitation and acting on an instinct he still had since his days in the military, Don Alejandro urged his horse to a gallop, hoping he might help whoever was in danger and completely forgetting he was neither armed nor accompanied by any reinforcement.
*As he rounded a bend in the road, the elderly haciendado stopped his stallion at noticing a lancer slumped over his horse, slowly making his way towards him. He didn't know how to react at first, and just stood there, waiting to see what was wrong with the man. When the rider suddenly fell from the saddle, though, remaining motionless on the ground, the caballero hurriedly dismounted and headed towards him. He kneeled by his side just as three bandits appeared on the road. Don Alejandro barely had the time to realize what was happening when one of the men shot him. Content with their prey and not feeling the slightest hint of remorse for their actions, the bandits then left, taking with them the caballero's horse and the one the lancer had been riding.*
ZZZ
"Help! Somebody help me!" Diego heard Victoria while he was returning home with Felipe around lunchtime.
Exchanging a worried glance with the boy, they both urged their horses in the direction from whence they could hear her cries.
"Victoria! What happened?" the young don asked as he reached his friend and noticed his father laying on the ground next to her.
"Bandits! They shot him!" she said. "Please, do something, Diego!" Her plea was hardly necessary for he was already kneeling by his parent's side, checking on his wound.
"How long ago was he shot?" He asked.
"About half-an-hour ago… Nobody else came by, and I didn't know what to do… I tried to stop the bleeding." She replied apologetically.
"You did very well, Victoria." He answered, trying to calm her down. The wound was bad, but the bleeding had mostly stopped and Don Alejandro's pulse was strong, which, at least, were good signs. "But the injury might easily get infected. We need to take him to the hacienda." The young don uttered. "Can we borrow your wagon?" he then asked his friend.
"Of course! Whatever you need!" She said.
"Felipe, help me take down the wine barrels, then I want you to find Doctor Hernandez and have him come to the hacienda! When that is done, alert the garrison to what has happened." Diego ordered and the boy hurriedly obeyed him.
As soon as the barrels were abandoned on the ground, Diego first turned the wagon in the direction of the hacienda, then lifted his father in his arms and carried him to it, carefully laying him down on a blanket Victoria had with her. As the young woman sat in the back with the injured man, Diego tied his mare to the back of the wagon and took the reins.
ZZZ
It was some three hours later, during which time the doctor had been doing his best to help the elderly don, when Diego decided he had been patient enough.
"How is he, Doctor?" He asked as he reached the bed where the doctor was still bandaging his patient. "Father?" He then uttered, taking the elderly man's hand.
"He can't hear you. He's fallen into a coma. Please, have some more patience, and let me finish here before we discuss…"
Slightly frowning and quite unwilling to leave his parent's side, Diego nodded and headed for the antechamber of Don Alejandro's bedroom, where Victoria and Felipe were standing, also waiting for news.
"I'm sure he will be alright, Diego. Don Alejandro is strong. He will pull through." The young woman tried to encourage him, and he smiled gratefully at her just as the doctor took off his stethoscope, picked up his bag, and headed their way.
*"I've removed the bullet but there's much infection." He said, slightly shaking his head as he neared the young people.
"What are his chances of coming out of this coma?" Diego asked.
The doctor wasn't one to sugarcoat it, experience having taught him that the more time the family of a patient had to prepare for the worst-case scenario, the better. "He may never come out of it." He, thus, told the young man.
"You're saying he could die?"
"I'm sorry. I've done all I can." The good doctor answered truthfully.
"Why would Don Alejandro risk his life for the Alcalde's payroll?" Victoria wondered, having had several hours to go through all that had happened in her mind.
"He wasn't helping the Alcalde," Diego answered as he glanced over to his father. "He was helping a man in trouble."
The young woman, realizing how distressed Diego was, and in truth, just as worried as him about Don Alejandro, who had been like a father to her during the last few years, decided to remain with her friends for as long as they needed her.
"I will stay with him." She offered, hoping Diego might take the chance to clear his head or have a little rest.
"No. Thank you! He's my father." The young man replied, putting a grateful hand on her shoulder before heading for the bed and pulling up a chair to sit by the old man's side.
Sensing he needed some time along with the old don, Victoria offered to see Doctor Hernandez to his wagon while Felipe headed for his mentor, placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, and signed a Z in the air.
The young don, though, unlike the boy, could not think of justice or vengeance at that very moment. "No, Felipe." He said, as he again returned to glance at the inert caballero fighting for his life. "Zorro's place is with his father."*
A night of constant torment followed, and Diego just kept vigil, unable to close his eyes, and feeling completely powerless to help in any way. Lancers and bandits he could defeat. He could save the damsel in distress, prevent a poor peasant from being whipped, and even force the alcalde to do the right thing. But he was powerless to help the man most important to him.
All he could do was sit next to the elderly man and wait, praying for him to get better.
ZZZ
The alcalde, on the other hand, decided that the incident offered him a perfect opportunity to turn everyone against Zorro, and decided to start by turning the De la Vegas against him.
The morning after Don Alejandro had been injured, he, thus, visited the hacienda, where he made sure to inform Diego of his suspicions, before asking him to give his comatose father his best wishes and assurances that he'd bring Zorro to justice to for his deeds.
His plan was not derailed even when Mendoza informed him that he and the lancers had found no proof of Zorro's involvement. Instead, after sending the sergeant back to the place of the crime to look for more clues, Ramone carved a Z into the saddlebags his men had found empty some half-a-mile North of where the shooting had happened, then displayed them publicly for everyone to see.
ZZZ
By the time the alcalde had left his house the day after Don Alejandro had been shot, the young don knew he had to put things right. He could not allow for Zorro to be vilified in the eyes of the people. But that had to wait. For the time being, he needed to return to his father's side.
He, thus, spent the day reading to him, doing his best to feed him, keep his temperature down, and make sure he was comfortable.
When some of Victoria's words reminded him that he had been deceiving his father, he even confessed the truth about his double life. Not that he actually expected that the elderly caballero might hear his confession in his state. In truth, he just felt the need to unburden himself and, perhaps, a flicker of hope that his confession could help in some way, however remote that chance was.
When the doctor visited on the third day after Don Alejandro was shot, he remained for a long consultation, at the end of which he informed the people patiently waiting for some flicker of hope, that the elderly don's condition was very unstable. He also added that a substance, maguey sap – that could be used to make a medicine that might have given him a fighting chance – had been stolen with the government payroll.
"And if you had the maguey sap, would the potion cure him?" Diego asked, grabbing hard that little thread of hope the doctor was giving him.
"It would give him a chance." The older man answered.*
"A chance." The caballero considered as he left the room accompanied by Felipe, pretending he'd agree to Victoria's suggestion to get some rest now that the doctor promised to stay for a while to look after Don Alejandro. In truth, though, all he could think was that he – or, better yet, Zorro – could actually do something useful: give his father a fighting chance.
*"The banditos' first mistake was shooting my father. The second: stealing his horse." He later explained to Felipe as they headed for the library where the caballero sat down and wrote a note. "My father's horse had a sore hoof. It required a very special shoe. I want you to go the blacksmith's in the pueblo and give him this note." He said, giving the piece of paper to the boy, and Felipe left with it, making haste.*
Exhausted, Diego slumped back into the settee as soon as the boy left, and closed his eyes, but only for a few moments, as worry would not let him find much rest. Instead, he got himself some coffee and some food to regain his strength, then headed for the cave to get Tornado ready.
*Felipe returned about half an hour later, to find Diego in the back courtyard, fiddling with a horseshoe.
"You don't understand?" The caballero asked as the boy offered him the one he had brought him from town.
The boy shook his head, so Diego crouched down and placed the horseshoes on the ground right in front of him. Then, standing up, he pressed them with his foot before picking them up and watching the imprints left behind.
"A trail so easy even Sergeant Mendoza could follow it." He told Felipe.
Indeed, the prints were so distinctive that Zorro had little trouble following them, even if days had passed since his father had been shot. The tracks took him North, through hills and ravines, towards a hidden rocky valley near Diablo's Canyon.
There, he found three men arguing about their next move. Their discussion about the gold and the danger they were in was more than enough to lead him to the conclusion that he had found his perpetrators. Soon after he dismounted to near them on foot, they started to fight among themselves, so he took the chance to get to the saddlebags they had left behind during their quarrel, then used a rock to distract them before he took position just behind them.
"The saying is not true." He uttered, sword at the ready, as they spotted him. "There is no honor among thieves."
The men's decision to attack him proved just as futile as their leader's later decision to run away with the saddlebags – while one of his cohorts was fighting the masked man and the other, already defeated, was lying unconscious on the ground. A whistle from Zorro, and Tornado made sure the man wouldn't go anywhere.
"Thank you, Tornado!" Zorro uttered as, having rendered the second thug unconscious, he neared the horse keeping guard on the gang's leader. "You know, I really do believe in self-control." he said, pulling out the box containing the medicine. "Anger can be so self-destructive."
"I did nothing to you." the thug muttered visibly afraid, only to find himself grabbed by the throat. "Nothing." he repeated.
"An innocent man lies near death. You did that. And it just might make me feel a lot better to kill you in return." Zorro tersely said, anger in his eyes as he glared at the man.* Then he let go of him. "But I am no executioner. Justice will take care of you!"
As he said that, he put the box back in the saddlebags and threw them over his shoulder. Then, forcing the thug to join the others, he proceeded to tie them up, gag them, and mark their clothes with his signature Z.
Taking a moment to think what he should do with them, he took a pencil and some paper from Tornado's saddlebags and wrote down a few words before he started towards Los Angeles with his prisoners.
His first stop was at the hacienda, where, after leaving Don Alejandro's stallion with one of the stable hands, he entered through the window leading to his father's room.
"I believe this is yours." he uttered, handing the doctor the box containing his medicine.
The older man, who had been reading while keeping vigil on the unconscious don, put down the book in his hands and stared at him for a few seconds, surprised by his presence there. He then took the box and opened it to check on its content.
"Yes. It belongs to me." he said in awe, not even noticing that the masked man had already exited the same way he had entered.
Whatever the doctor said next, Zorro didn't hear, for he was already on his way towards the pueblo.
Since it was siesta and, with Victoria at the hacienda, there was no one around the tavern, Zorro decided that her establishment was the best place to leave the thieves while, at the same time, make sure that enough people would witness their return together with the stolen money, The message he also planned to leave behind was just to ensure that everyone would see through the alcalde's efforts to blame him for the entire affair.
He hardly finished leaving the thugs in the taproom, the bags of money suspended right above them, when Alicia, who was a little late to open that afternoon, unlocked the doors. He, thus, hurriedly exited through the kitchen just as the woman entered. She didn't notice the masked man escape, but her scream at seeing the tied-up men alerted everyone in the pueblo.
Zorro remained watching from behind a building as several caballeros and most of the people in the plaza hurried inside, soon followed by Luis Ramone and Mendoza. When he was certain that his plan had worked, he urged Tornado into a gallop towards the hacienda.
Felipe was waiting for him as he arrived with news that his father was already doing better, so he hurried to get himself presentable - washing in a basin and putting on his brown suit.
*Hurrying to return to the house before his absence was noticed, he had just stepped through the hidden panel when Victoria showed up, almost spotting him there. "Don Diego? Don Diego?" She called, turning around just enough to give him the time he needed to step back and close the panel before returning to the cave's main room and heading for the spy hole without noticing Felipe playing with Zorro's sword.
The boy hurried to hide it behind his back and just stood there, innocently watching him.
"Women. . ." Diego muttered. "Why are they so curious?"*
Having heard Victoria wondering if he was still sleeping, he rushed to exit through the library again, then out the nearest window to the hacienda's courtyard, and hurried towards the other side of the house where his quarters were situated.
*Climbing inside through one of his room's windows, he threw himself into his bed fully clothed, and pulled the blanket over him. Wrapping himself in it so that none of his clothes would be visible, he closed his eyes as he heard Victoria's steps nearing, pretending he was fast asleep.
The young woman entered just a few seconds later, not seeming to care much about propriety. She neared his bed looking curiously at him. "Don Diego?" She said before gently shaking his shoulder, fully convinced he was asleep. "Don Diego?"
Slowly, he opened his eyes, then pretended to be startled at noticing her.
"This is my bedroom." he remarked, trying to seem appalled by her presence there.
She hardly noticed. "You've been resting for quite some time now."
"Apparently I was more tired than I thought. My father?"
"He's asking for you."
"I'll be just a minute." He said, waiting for her to leave.
"Of course." She replied, heading for the door, a strange smile on her face as her eyes lingered back a little longer than necessary. For a few seconds, while she gave him that strange look, Diego wondered whether her reaction had something to do with her expectation that he was half-naked under that blanket.
He waited until he was certain the young woman had headed away before hurrying to get out of the bed.
A couple of minutes later, he was entering Don Alejandro's room. "Father?" He called from the door.
"Diego!" The don smiled at him as he neared his bed, Victoria, Doctor Hernandez, and Felipe already there. "Oh! Look at me!" The elderly man said when Diego took his hand. "There it is, the middle of the afternoon, and I'm stuck in bed. I feel like you, my son." He continued, slightly chuckling at his own joke, then starting to cough, worrying both the doctor and the young woman fussing over him.
"Is he going to be all right?" Victoria asked Doctor Hernandez as the man again checked on his patient.
The doctor said nothing, just turned to smile at the young caballero.
"He's going to be just fine." Diego answered, glancing over at Felipe.*
For the next few days, Diego had a hard time convincing his father to remain in bed. Unused to the sedentary lifestyle the elderly don believed his son was leading, he hated to be fussed over and all he wanted was to get up and return to managing his affairs. In vain Diego tried to distract him with games of chess and by reading to him. In the end, the young man could not spend all day at his father's side, and all the people fussing over him just made the elderly caballero feel even older than he was.
So, after about three days spent trying to obey the doctor and only making the minimum amount of effort, on the fourth, feeling strong enough, the don got out of bed when no one was there to stop him, and made his way to the front rooms. Once there, he sat at the table and asked Maria to bring him his ledgers.
The woman did so, then hurried to inform Diego of what his father was up to.
By the time he got to him, though, he found the elderly don ordering their servant girl around, as she had neglected doing her work properly during the time he had been ill, which meant that the library was full of dust.
Realizing there wasn't much he could do to get him back to bed, the young De la Vega headed for the kitchen to prepare a tea for his father, *then brought it to him. "You know, you should really go back to bed." he said, as he returned to the living room and offered the old don the cup.
"I don't want to go back to bed." Don Alejandro stubbornly answered, ignoring the tea.
Diego tried again. "Doctor Hernandez said you shouldn't rush your recovery." he uttered, trying to be patient.
That was not the right thing to say to a stubborn man like his father. Instead of listening to him, he closed the ledger and stood up, heading for his desk. "I have to rush my recovery. I certainly cannot count on you to run my affairs." He said chidingly.
He was aware that his son had spent every free minute he had with him during the last week, and, consequently, every delay in registering his accounts reflected exactly what his priorities had been during the days following the shooting. Still, the old don preferred to believe Diego didn't know how to manage things because that meant his son still had a few things to learn from him. That made him feel still needed, and, through some psychological mechanism doctors had yet to understand, helped him get better sooner.
"Perhaps someday I'll learn." The young man answered with an indulgent smile.
"I live in hope." The older man said, returning to his desk. Then, a memory came to the forefront of his mind. One he had been attributing to his fever and the strange dreams it brought about, yet one he needed to say out loud, if for no other reason, at least to make sure it was nothing more than what he believed it to be. He, thus, paused and took off his glasses. "You know, I had the most amazing dream while I was lying in there. It must have been a… a hallucination. Someone – I can't remember who – but someone said that you, my son, Diego, were Zorro."
The young man let out a slight chuckle and looked expectantly at his father, part of him wondering if that was the time for the secrets between them to end.
"Imagine that! You. . . as Zorro." His father repeated as he, too, chuckled and stood up again.
"Imagine that!" Diego said, trying to smile.
Don Alejandro wasn't sure what he had expected. Surely, had Diego been Zorro, his son wouldn't have been able to keep such a secret from him.
"Of course, having Zorro for a son wouldn't be bad." He uttered, trying to encourage him to tell the truth, should there be one to tell. His son said nothing and looked so innocent that the elderly don could no longer even contemplate the idea that he was living a double life, hiding part of himself from the person closest to him. "But I love the son I have." He, thus, assured him, and, at the same time, himself.*
True, he would have been proud to be Zorro's father. But, he would have also been worried sick and probably unable to ever sleep again. In hindsight, he preferredDiego just the man he seemed to be.
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
AN:
Excerpts included in this chapter, marked with '*' are from episode "Honor Thy Father" written by Adam Tyler.
Sorry it took me so long to post more chapters for this story. I'll try to return to publishing once every week but that largely depends on my time and motivation, so I make no promises.
Don't forget to let me know if you like my take on the chapter.