CHAPTER FOUR - Acclamations

The day after the 'bull fight,' the pueblo was abuzz with the heroics of Don Diego de la Vega. The vendors whose stands and carts were saved because he distracted the bull, all decided to take a gift to him at the hacienda, finding him sitting at one edge of the couch in the library, with his leg propped up on a pile of pillows. The end table in front of the couch had been brought close to where Diego could reach it from the couch to give him a place to put a drink, a book, or a plate of food. He greeted his visitors politely. Most of the time, he was able to stand the pain, as it got a little less during the day. He did sip on his cactus tea concoction every once in a while, not enough to put him to sleep though. Only once did he have Felipe mix him some of Dr. Hernandez's pain potion.

The basket maker, Pedro, and the fruit stand owner, Enrique, came together. Enrique had filled Pedro's large basket with melons, oranges, lemons, and apples. Pedro spoke up first.

"Don Diego, we are so grateful for what you did yesterday. I was able to save all the baskets in my cart, only losing a couple that were on the ground. I was able to get my cart out of the way before the bull came charging through, because of you. Gracias, Senor. I am forever in your debt."

Diego was clearly uncomfortable with all the attention. He was used to being masked when receiving acclaim.

"Anyone would have done the same, Pedro. I'm glad your baskets are safe."

"And Senor, only a very few of my fruits were even damaged!" exclaimed Enrique. "That was a very brave thing you did – fighting that bull."

"I'm very glad your fruits survived well, Enrique," Diego's smile was still mostly sincere, but he was clearly uncomfortable. So that's what they're calling it – a bull 'fight,' Diego thought. It wasn't much of a 'fight,' more like a game of evasion – until the very last. But that's what the toreador does, doesn't he? Evade, until he decides to strike with the swords. I didn't have a toreador's cape though…or swords.

When Pedro and Enrique left, it started a steady stream of vendors for the next two hours. Most didn't stay long, but at the end, Diego had received quite a 'stash' of gifts, including baskets, hats, cravats, fruits, vegetables, boxes, vases, pottery pitchers, plates, bowls, a new blanket, and a bolt of linen.

Carlos, the linen merchant, said, "Don Diego, you are going to need crutches to be made for you in order to get around for a while. Wrap the tree branches with this linen. It will protect your underarms from any sharp edges."

Diego smiled. "Gracias Carlos. That is a very practical gift. Felipe is currently out looking for branches long enough to make crutches for me." Diego was pleased that the man thought about his practical needs.

At the end of the long procession of vendors was Victoria, bringing a covered tray.

"Diego, how are you today?" She smiled and brought the tray to the end table near Diego, who cleared off a book and a glass by putting them on the floor beside him.

Diego smiled and replied with some sarcasm, "Oh, I'm all right. It looks like the whole pueblo came out to 'appreciate' their 'hero' of the day yesterday."

Victoria scowled at his sarcasm. Her tone of voice was somewhat corrective, but gentle. "Diego, they're just trying to show you how grateful they are. You really did a heroic thing yesterday. I can understand if you're not comfortable receiving the gratitude, but don't be unkind or ungrateful to others because you're upset you got hurt. After all, you're not Zorro, but you did the best you could. And believe me, it was plenty good enough. I don't think even Zorro could have done better."

Diego looked away, and tried not to show how uncomfortable and angry he really was. He changed the subject quickly, and smiled his most charming smile. "So – what have you brought?"

Victoria knew she'd made her point. "Well, I brought all your favorite foods…from albondigas soup, arroz con pollo, chicken empanadas, beef tamales, to vanilla flan. It's more than what you can eat at one time, but I'm sure your father and Felipe can help you."

"Thank you, Victoria. You're very kind. I guess I've had a bad attitude about all this. It's that I hate…" watch what you say…kept going through his mind again. He was going to say, I hate not being able to ride as Zorro for a month…

"What? What do you hate?"

Diego sighed. "I hate being forced to sit like this for the next four weeks!"

Victoria chuckled. "Really? That's what you're angry about? But Diego, you sit for hours and days at a time, don't you? I mean, when you're reading, or writing poetry, or art…or…whatever else it is that you do?'

Watch what you say….don't get angry at Victoria. Remember, you love her. You know she's right, you just don't want her to be, he thought. He sighed again to relieve some of the tension he felt.

"It's one thing to choose to sit, it's quite another to be forced to. I know that you know what that's like. It hasn't been that long since your ankle was hurt." Diego tried hard to remain pleasant, but he hadn't liked the fact she'd been right. Her statements dug in hard. The truth hurt.

"Si, it's only been a few months, but I was able to walk on it sooner. It wasn't broken, only sprained." She smiled at the memory of the cave and put unconsciously put fingers to her left ring finger, remembering what it felt like to wear her ring. She got it out every night and put it on, then had to take it off, remembering the promise she'd made Zorro not to wear it in public until after he'd taken the mask off.

Diego saw her rub her finger, and smiled to himself. "What are you thinking about, Victoria?"

The question snapped Victoria out of her reverie, but she smiled dreamily. "Oh…it is nothing."

"Really? Rubbing one's left ring finger absent-mindedly isn't 'nothing' – at least it doesn't seem so to me." Diego was watching her like a hawk, hoping to catch her in something, but he knew she was also very good at keeping a secret. This was the first time he'd ever seen a 'slip.' If someone else had seen it, they wouldn't understand what it meant. Only he did. He still wondered if it would be safe to tell her who he was, but his fear of rejection was still too strong. And, he was afraid for her safety.

Victoria folded her hands in her lap and said, "No, really, it is nothing for you to be concerned about."

"Are you telling me it's none of my business? Am I being too nosy?" Diego was feeling bold, yet somewhat teasingly. It must be the 'buzz' I feel from the cactus tea, he thought. I would love for her to say something, anything, about that day…

"Well, yes, but…I'm sorry, I can't say anymore." She looked away. Diego realized she wasn't going to say more, and decided to change the subject.

"I suppose that everyone is talking about yesterday." Diego sighed in irritation.

"Yes they are. It's only natural. It was quite out of character for you to be a man of action…so when the whole pueblo watched you fight that bull with only a broomstick, you have to expect that people will talk."

"Out of character? You forgot about the siege last year. I'll have it known I rescued a child, my father, YOU, and Sergeant Mendoza when the outlaws first rode into the pueblo."

"Yes, Diego, you saved the little boy and shoved the rest of us out of the way, but did nothing to fight them."

"Yes, I did. You just didn't see me." Diego was buzzed and his tongue was loosened…to a point.

"Really? And when was that?" Victoria was skeptical.

"Actually, I took care of two bandidos at once! I jumped…" Diego said with pride. Watch what you say…Remember you made sure no one saw you jump off the roof, in Zorro-like fashion, then delivered a knock-out punch – so don't tell it now. She could put some things together, then you'll be in real trouble.

"Uh – I think – I'll have some of my favorite soup now. Really, thank you Victoria – for making all my favorite foods. I'm sorry I got a little testy."

"What are friends for, Diego, if not to bring comfort and help in time of need?"

To her face, Diego smiled. In his mind he thought, Ah Victoria, I want to be so much more than your friend. I want to be your husband, your mate, your lover. Soon, I hope…

After supper, when the day's work was done, Alejandro went to the library for a talk. Diego was reading a book. Felipe had brought in a long tree branch about five and a half feet long. Felipe signed he had found two such branches, but would finish one first to get the correct length. The doctor said he should not try to stand on it for two days. Alejandro and Felipe helped him get to the Library that morning, and would get him to bed that evening as well. When he 'walked,' he had to put all his weight on his left leg, holding his right foot off the floor, by bending his knee. Until his crutches were ready, Diego had to rely on other people to help him get from place to place. He could hop around a smaller room, but he soon discovered that it wasn't as easy to do that as he first thought it would be. And there was no way he could hop from the Library to his bedroom. That was way too far.

"How is your leg this evening, son?" Alejandro pulled up a chair towards the couch so he could sit facing Diego.

Trying not to sound flippant, but not succeeding, Diego replied, "How do you think I am, Father? It still hurts. It hurts a lot." Then, realizing his bad mood, he immediately softened his tone. "I'm sorry, Father. I'm still very frustrated by this, in more ways than one."

"I'm sorry, son. I didn't mean to antagonize you. I really didn't. I know you still have pain. Is there anything I can get you?" Alejandro said as gently as he could.

"No, gracias, Father. I'm sorry; my mood is quite foul tonight. I'll probably be going to bed soon. You'll have to help me. Felipe is still working on a set of crutches."

"I can understand your frustration, son. And of course Felipe and I will help you get to bed when you're ready." Alejandro paused a moment, then changed the subject. "I heard you had a steady stream of visitors today."

Diego sighed and his tension towards his father left. "Yes, it seems all the vendors in the marketplace yesterday had to come and show their appreciation. I've got quite a 'stash' of gifts now – although the food gifts have already been taken to the kitchen – and I ate some of them. Victoria made all my favorite foods."

Alejandro perused the stash and nodded his head. "It seems my son is well liked in the pueblo."

"There is one very practical gift I can use immediately – well – as soon as Felipe gets my crutches ready. Carlos, the linen merchant, brought me a bolt of linen to be used to wrap the crutches to help my underarms." He pointed to the bolt of linen that was lying just separate from the rest of the stash.

"That was very generous of him. Now, son, maybe you can tell me why you thought you were the one who had to deal with the bull yesterday?" Alejandro folded his arms.

Diego shifted a bit on the couch and frowned. Even though he didn't want it – his tone was sarcastic. "Well, Father, you've always wanted me to be a 'man of action' – so yesterday – I tried to be... I saw what you were doing, and I knew eventually that would be helpful. But I also knew there wasn't enough time to get the vendors out of the way – before they were either injured or their stands destroyed."

He paused a moment. "I felt if I could distract the bull a few minutes, everything would be all right. I was wrong, and I misjudged where the vaqueros were throwing their ropes. Eventually, I guess I went right when I should have gone left." Diego felt a 'buzz' around him, and he heard that little voice again…be careful what you say. Watch your words. The cactus tea he'd been sipping on about 15 minutes ago was beginning to take effect. As long as Diego was asleep, he didn't feel pain. It was the getting comfortable in bed that sometimes took a while – so he took some painkillers just before Alejandro came into the room, because he intended to go to bed soon. He knew it was only a matter of time…

"No doubt, Zorro would have done a back flip and landed on his feet, but clumsy Diego…" he spat out the words. "…clumsy Diego breaks his leg! Aaarghh! What is it about wearing black…? Sorry…" He put a hand to his head and gritted his teeth.

Alejandro looked at Diego with narrowed eyes. He couldn't understand Diego's outburst. "What do you mean, Diego? It doesn't really matter what Zorro would have done. You, Diego, you were the hero of the day yesterday. You, Diego. The vendors brought the gifts to you, not to Zorro! And I – I want you to know that despite your injury – I – am – very proud of you for your efforts. You really did save the day yesterday! You were magnificent – until the bull got you. I venture to say that even Zorro couldn't have done any better!"

Diego didn't move. The only sign he was breathing was that his head kept shaking underneath his hand. Now Alejandro was getting frustrated.

"Son, it's not about you being sorry it happened, or feeling sorry you got hurt. I'm trying to understand you. I'm trying to make an effort here. I've not been happy with the way our relationship has been for a long time. I'd like to try to amend things, if possible. Can you tell me why you are feeling so angry at yourself?"

Diego was getting very tired and very sleepy. "I'm sorry, Father. I seem to be fading fast. Maybe we can talk tomorrow when my head is clearer."

"All right son. Let's get you to bed." Alejandro got on one side of him, Felipe on the other, and between the three of them, got Diego to bed. Within a minute, Diego was fast asleep, the painkillers were working.

Alejandro stayed a moment, watching, shaking his head. He didn't seem to understand Diego at all. I probably should never have compared him to Zorro, because now he is comparing himself. That's not going to help him. He was magnificent yesterday for a while – until…oh stop it Alejandro! Maybe if I stop comparing him to Zorro, he can stop comparing himself. Alejandro got a niggling feeling about some things…things he didn't understand and couldn't seem to get through to discuss it with Diego. Madre de Dios, how can I get through to him, he thought?

TBC