NOTE BY THE ACCOUNT HOLDER: THIS STORY IS NOT MINE!

WRITTEN BY KARLA GREGORY

Chapter Sixteen

And so began a routine that would last for the next several weeks. The padre would arrive on Mondays bringing food and wine in a little push cart along with his writing materials and books. He had already brought a chess set and a guitar. They ate together and held long discussions on all sorts of interesting topics. He told Diego all of the news from the university, bringing him up to date from the time he had been called home. They discussed the current crop of fencing students as the padre had kept an interest in the sport due to his friendship with Diego. He had a fair knowledge of the art though he had never participated in it.

At other times, Diego would go out into the yard to exercise and practice his own fencing skills. Padre Ramon would sit at the table in the yard writing on his book and watching Diego. He saw the fierce determination on Diego's face and the disappointment and frustration there when his body wouldn't do what he desired it to do.

The padre was there to counsel patience. Diego would have to build himself up gradually, he had gone through too much to overcome it in a week or two. He was also there to provide encouragement whenever a small improvement was made.

At night, they would sit by candle light and as the darkness of the night enfolded them, Diego would talk of his father and the rancho, and of his life in California. And he would tell the stories of Zorro. These stories would alternately leave the padre hopelessly lost in laughter or on the brink of tears.

There was much injustice in such a raw land, but the people were championed by a young man, full of life and keen wit, who had, along with one servant and his own father, Don Alejandro, made such a difference. Why, if only half of the stories Diego told were true, Zorro bordered on the supernatural!

Padre Ramon gained an insight into this duality of persons in Diego. Zorro was the real Diego. Brash, bold, and witty, with a strong sense of right and wrong, the swordsmanship of a master swordsman; these were all the things that Diego was made of; all the things Zorro was privileged to use as his. The Diego of California was a caricature; not genuine. And although Diego did not say much about it, Padre Ramon knew that the life he had dreamed of having had been set aside while he battled injustice in the only way he could.

As the weeks passed, the wounds Diego had suffered healed well, though he would always bear the scars, especially Monastario's "M". Padre Ramon noticed that whenever Diego caught sight of himself in the mirror with his shirt off that he would instantly turn away with a look of loathing on his face. At such times, the padre wished that somehow he could receive that scar on his own body if it would remove it from Diego's. He knew that it served to constantly remind Diego of Monastario and all that had passed between them.

Diego had not spoken much more about what had happened in that cell under Monastario's house, but the padre would sometimes find Diego brooding and he could well imagine what it was about. When caught, Diego would not acknowledge what it was that was bothering him, but would change the subject or go outside to practice. Those practice sessions were especially intense.

During the middle of the third week, Padre Ramon went into the city to do some research for his book at the university library. When he returned to the safe house, he told Diego that he had received notification that a special envoy from the Vatican was coming the next week and that he was going to be required to spend the week participating in ceremonies and meetings.

"So you will be on your own, my son," he said. "Promise me that you won't get into any trouble while I am gone."

Diego gave the padre one of his famous smiles and then held up his hands as if to say, "Who me?" The padre played the stern priest, "Don't play the innocent with me, Diego. I know that without me here to entertain you, your natural restlessness will assert itself."

"I will be very careful, Padre," was all that Diego would say.

Padre Ramon left that Friday afternoon saying that he would not be back until a week from Monday. Saturday evening found Diego at the local tavern. He performed a few magic tricks for a welcoming audience and gained several pesos for his efforts. Soon he found a card game and joined in. When he left several hours later, he had about fifty pesos to jingle in his pocket. He stayed at the safe house all day Sunday out of respect for the sabbath.

The next day was Monday and Diego went to the outskirts of Madrid and there found a larger tavern with a better class of customers. By early afternoon, he had captured about five hundred pesos from various patrons. He never wagered big or humiliated anyone enough to make anyone a sore loser. As a matter of fact, the person who had lost the most to him had bought a round of drinks for all the players.

As soon as he could, he went further into town to a tailor shop that he remembered made fine clothing and fancy dress costumes for the gentry to wear to balls. There he was measured for a new suit of a fine cut, very similar to the suits he wore back home. He was also measured for a shirt, bola and riding pants made of black material.

Not wanting to draw too much attention to himself, he went to three other stores and bought black riding boots and gloves, a black hat, and a black silk cape. From a trade shop, he bought a beautiful sword of good Toledo steel. All these things he took home with him.

On Wednesday and Thursday he went to several other taverns and won two or three hundred pesos at each one. He did not stay too long in each place and he was very careful not to make any enemies. On Friday he returned to the tailor's shop to pick up his garments after he had won some more money at a couple of taverns.

In all, Diego had amassed about fifteen hundred pesos and had acquired two new suits of clothing. Not a bad week's work if he said so himself.

During the week, Diego had not let up on his training regimen. As he regained his stamina and strength, his workouts had become even more exacting. He strove for perfection in all of his fencing exercises, going over everything again and again until they became second nature. He knew he would have to be at his best the next time he faced Monastario. He was too good of a swordsman to not take advantage of any weakness in Diego's technique. Sometimes he indulged himself by fancying that Monastario faced him on the other end of his sword. The padre would have been frightened to see his face then.

Soon it was Monday again and Padre Ramon returned. Diego was glad to hear about the fine visit by the envoy and the part his friend had played in it. The padre was amazed at how much difference another week had made in the young man's appearance. His face was glowing with good health and his movements were smooth and graceful. There was not a trace of the effects of his injuries.

As he watched Diego practice that afternoon, he kept thinking , "If only Diego's former fencing instructor could see this!" Diego had been an excellent fencing student when he was at the university and eventually won all the highest honors in competition. But if Padre Ramon was any judge, there was not a master swordsman at the university who could hope to beat him now.

As Diego was cleaning his sword after the practice, Padre Ramon said, "My son, I noticed that you are using several movements that I have never seen before. Where did you learn them?"

Diego kept on cleaning the sword but said, "Well padre, when one's life has been placed on the line as mine was in California, necessity teaches you many new things." And he looked up with an amused expression on his face. Padre Ramon could only shake his head in amazement. It still struck him forcefully every time he was reminded of Zorro.

Later that evening, just as it was dark, Diego said he was going outside to enjoy a little night air. Padre Ramon had settled back to read a new book he had just acquired, first lighting the candle next to his chair. He had just gotten to the second chapter when he found the point of a sword pressed against his heart.

Startled, he looked up to see an apparition covered in black from head to foot. "Madre de Dios!" he exclaimed. It was Zorro. Not the patched together Zorro of four weeks ago, but well and truly Zorro.

"How do you like it, padre?" Zorro asked as he saluted him with the sword, grinning all the while.

"It is magnificent, Señor Zorro," cried Padre Ramon. "Come closer to the light so that I may see you better. I had no idea you were even in the room."

Zorro stepped closer. What the padre saw was the culmination of Diego's shopping of the past week. It was almost an exact duplicate of the Zorro costume he had worn in Los Angeles.

"So this is El Zorro, the man who strikes terror into the hearts of tyrants and bandidos and melts the heart of any señorita he happens to meet," said the padre.

"One and the same," said Zorro saluting grandly with the sword.

Once again the padre was struck (and even more so now) by the strength of this Zorro persona. So much so that he timidly asked, "Diego, are you in there?"

Zorro looking a bit puzzled, replied, "Yes, I am here, padre. Do you not see me?" And with that he pulled off the mask and pushed back the hat. The transformation from Zorro to Diego took but a second.

"That is most extraordinary, my son," said Padre Ramon almost under his breath. He did not elaborate. He thought it best for now to keep his thoughts about the Zorro persona to himself. So he changed the subject. "And how did you come by such fine clothes? When I left, you did not have a peso to your name. These clothes are not ill-gotten are they?" He could not bring himself to use the word 'stolen'.

"Oh no, Padre," Diego said, and he related how he came by such ready cash. Throwing a purse on the table he said, "I have enough there to purchase passage home to California when I have finished my business here."

Just that swiftly, Padre Ramon was reminded of the real reason behind all of this preparation. He had tended to bury that aspect of it during his concern for Diego's health and convalescence.

He was about to renew his plea for Diego to get on a ship and return home now, when he saw that Zorro had returned even without the mask on Diego's face. Zorro's eyes were hard and showed no mercy for Monastario.

"I am going into Madrid tonight to search out Monastario," he said evenly. As the padre leaned forward in fear for Diego, Zorro held up his hand. "No, I do not mean to engage him tonight. I merely wish to study him to determine his movements; his security arrangements. I will need at least a week to accomplish this and make sure that I am ready. I will be the one who decides when and where we shall meet, not Monastario." He tied the mask back on. "I will be back before the morning light. Good night, Padre."

With that he was gone from the room. "How he does that!" exclaimed Padre Ramon softly as he stared at the now empty room.