Seeds of Forgiveness
1 - Heartache
Seeds of Forgiveness
A/N: This story takes place after my The Partnership Restored and in the series would fall about a month after Adios Señor Magistrado (Season 1, Episode 26).
Chapter 1: Heartache
Early life had not been kind to the Indian boy. When he was six months old, his mother died of a fever, leaving him to be tended by whatever aunt, cousin, or friend had the time to care for another child and enough food to feed an extra mouth. But when he was two years old, his father had accepted the faith of the padres and had his son baptized as well. His father had chosen the name "Victorio" for himself. The monks saw a beautiful child with an angelic smile and baptized him "Celestino", meaning "heavenly".
After that the boy's childhood had been a happy one. His father had become a laborer at the Mission San Gabriel. Celestino had grown up among other Indian children, going to the Mission school, playing in the gardens and the orchards, sometimes straying into the wild areas, praying morning and evening, and going to Mass on Sunday.
As the mission children grew older they were assigned small tasks as daily chores: picking up fallen oranges, weeding and watering the vegetable beds, carrying small baskets of ripened produce to the kitchen or to an area where the monks offered the fruit of their labors for sale. Still older children would dig furrows for planting, carry and spread manure, or help repair the fences.
By the time Celestino was nine years old it was painfully clear that he had neither interest or talent for growing things. No matter how many times the differences were explained to him, he managed to pull up at least as many seedlings as weeds, and usually more. And these were in addition to the seedlings he stepped on while he was carrying a basket or water jug and not looking carefully where he was going. Nor was the boy able to weave twigs into a basket that would even hold together, much less hold oranges. Father Felipe began to pray daily to discover some useful role for the child at the mission.
Then one day one of the mules stepped into a bees' nest and was stung on the nose. The normally docile animal was bucking and thrashing about in great pain and no one could get near it. Suddenly there stood eleven-year-old Celestino, one hand carrying a wet cloth, the other hand outstretched toward the animal. "Easy, mulita," said the child in a low voice. "I know your nose hurts very much! I will not hurt you, I have something to ease the sting. Let me bring you this nice cold cloth for your nose." For reasons known only to heaven, the mule allowed the boy to approach, grasp its bridle reins, and apply the cold cloth. After a few minutes two adults were able to take charge of the animal and care for it. Padre Felipe breathed a prayer of thanks. Then he took Celestino by the hand, told him he was very brave, and led him toward the stables, all the while offering up a second prayer of thanks that heaven had shown him the boy's true calling.
So Celestino spent his days caring for the mules and horses, and occasionally for the milk goats. His knack for working with healthy animals and nursing sick ones improved as he got older. He was now fourteen. His father was proud of him and life at the mission went on, one peaceful day after another.
Until late one evening when Victorio noticed a strange horse tethered at the church door. Upon entering the church to investigate, the Indian beheld a black-clad, black-masked, black-caped figure who removed the crown of jewels from the statue of the Virgin and slashed a "Z" in the altar covering. Outraged, Victorio began to cry out for Father Felipe and struggle with the dark figure — who ran him through with a sword and fled. As the good padre arrived and knelt beside him, Innocente managed to murmur, "Padre, Zorro steal Virgin's crown" before he died.
Celestino was awakened as the hue and cry spread throughout the mission. He was not especially surprised that his father was not present in their dwelling. It was not unusual for one of the adults to work late at some task until it was completed. But when Celestino saw Padre Felipe and two other monks approaching, looking straight at him, he realized something was terribly wrong.
The next few days were full of anger and confusion. First it was told that Victorio himself saw Zorro steal the Virgin's crown and had said so with his dying breath. The entire pueblo, as well as the mission, felt betrayed by someone they had always regarded as the champion of the people. And in fact when Zorro appeared at the mission the next night he was driven off with arrows. Then a few days later the Comandante arrived to return the crown of jewels, explaining that the thief was not the true Zorro but rather an impostor, a criminal who had managed to escape from the cuartel and subsequently been shot.
None of this helped Celestino. His beloved father was dead and as far as he was concerned it was because the cuartel guards had been careless. Blind hatred for the garrison settled in his breast, and grew there.