Chapter 26 – Ignorance is bliss

Still worried about Zorro, not knowing if he was alive or dead, and now also worried for her own safety, Victoria had fallen asleep at Esteban's side, exhausted. He had hold on to her in that uncomfortable position resting against the wall for as long as he could because he didn't want to wake her up. When he was about to give up, he saw Pilar at the door and he was grateful to be able to move.

"Victoria, wake up," he said softly, giving her a gentle shake. "Pilar is here. I think she has something for you."

Victoria lifted her head, drowsy, and then moved away from him slowly, sitting up, still wrapped up in the blanket.

"What?"

"Don't worry. I'll get it. I need to move a bit, because I'm quite stiff now."

He stood up, stretching his back with a grunt, and then walked slowly towards the door, resenting the motion.

Victoria's eyes wandered around taking on her surroundings, and when they spotted his blood-stained shirt she gasped, waking up quickly.

"I got clean clothes for her. And Don Alejandro prepared this parcel with food, some ointments, and dressings. He gave it to me because the alcalde doesn't let your family in. The soldiers checked the contents already," Pilar said, passing the items through the bars. She glanced to both sides then, and when she was sure nobody was looking, she reached for a piece of paper hiding in her generous cleavage and slipped it through the bars as well.

"And this was on her pillow. I think it's from Zorro."

"All right. I'll give it to her, thank you."

"How is she doing?"

"She is alright. Frightened, but fine."

"Tell her not to worry. We won't let the alcalde use the gallows tomorrow. We are organizing, and we will not let him do that. The soldiers can't fight all the citizens of this pueblo at once if we stay together."

"Thank you, Pilar. That's the spirit!"

"Take care of her, please," she said, waving to Victoria before she left. "And don't despair."

"We won't, thank you again. Good bye."

He put the note in his pocket and returned then to the bench carrying all that stuff.

"Look, she has a clean dress for you. And I hope Don Alejandro has included the ointment I told you about in this parcel," he said, rummaging through the contents. "Yes, here it is."

"Your back is bleeding. Are you alright?"

"Is it? Well, no surprise there, because it stings like hell."

"Let me clean your wounds then."

"No. Let me apply the ointment on your wound first, and dress it over, and then you can change your clothes. You can play doctor with me afterwards. Vale?"

"Vale. Pero, can we eat something first? I'm starving."

"Yes, of course."

They ate some of the food from the parcel, and when they finished, Esteban got on with the task of cleaning her wound again, and then he applied the ointment and a dressing, having some embarrassing moments when she had to hold onto the piece of rag to pass it over her bosom to hold the dressing in place over the gash. Then, as they were alone again, he moved away from her and looked in another direction while she changed her clothes.

"Are you sure you are not looking?"

"Yes, I'm not looking."

"Can I trust you?"

"Yes, you can trust me. I'm not looking," he said, smiling. Although, turning around to look at her was very tempting.

"Done," she said after a little while. "Come here and I'll clean your wounds now."

When he turned around and saw her wearing that pretty red top and black skirt, he thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world, despite her dishevelled hair and the tiredness and worry she displayed on her pale face.

"You look beautiful."

"And you are lying, because I can't look beautiful with this hair. It must look like a crow's nest by now."

He laughed then at her words and at her disgruntled pouting.

"No, I'm not lying. You still look beautiful to me."

"Shut up and come here. Take off your shirt and sit on the bench, please."

He complied obediently, removing his shirt, grunting softly when he stretched the wounds.

"Gosh. You are right; that looks bloody," he said when he had a quick look at the shirt.

While he carried on removing the dressings crossing over his chest, Victoria couldn't help but to compare his physique with Zorro's. Esteban was much leaner, not as muscular and strong as him, but still well built. She stopped day-dreaming when she realized he had finished removing all the rags and was staring back at her with a naked torso and a cheeky smile on his face.

"All yours if you want it," he said, pointing at his chest, enjoying the sudden, intense blush on her cheeks.

"Shut up or I'll put salt on your wounds! Lie down."

When he did, she gasped again. His back had multiple deep gashes criss-crossing it, and there was hardly any healthy skin left in between. Some of the dressings had got stuck to the wounds, and now she would have to peel them off.

"My Dear Lord! That looks so awful!" she cried. "How can you be smiling and joking when you have that on your back? It must be as sore as hell for you to lean on that wall."

"A little, yes."

"Why did you let me lean on you then? Why didn't you say something? You should have been lying on the bench like this all the time!"

"You were asleep. You are even more beautiful when you are sleeping, and I couldn't disturb you."

She tilted her head then, bewildered, and started cleaning the wounds. When she touched them, he tensed his body, obviously in pain, but he didn't let out a sound. She spread some water over the dressings to make them soggy, so she could remove them without taking part of the sore skin with them, but when she pulled the first one, he hissed, clenching his fists.

"Hold on. This is going to hurt," she said.

"I know, I know. It always does. Don't worry, carry on."

She couldn't help it, but a stray tear came down her face then while she worked on his wounds. Nobody had ever treated her like that, suffering in silence to provide her with some fleeting comfort. Not even Zorro. She was sure he would have, given the chance, but as they hardly ever shared more than a few minutes together at a time, except for the other night, she had never experienced that kind of attention. And she liked it. A lot. And she wondered one more time how wonderful her existence could be having comfort and sweetness in her life rather than angst, pain and worry about losing her lover and even get hanged at the gallows. Was it really worth it?

ZZZ

"That's right. The alcalde can refuse to abide by it. The document would be legally bounding only if it had a witness signature on it," Diego said closing his eyes, tired of the talk, taking a hand to his forehead to press on it and on his temples, trying to stop an impending headache. "Better still if it had two."

"Why Zorro didn't use a witness then? I can't believe he overlooked that!" Don Alejandro said. Upset, Diego dropped his hand and looked at his father through narrowed, resentful eyes.

Because the witness shot him down instead of signing! And then Zorro was too busy trying to get out of there alive to think about the little details, that's why! Diego screamed inside his head. He still felt lousy; the wound in his abdomen was throbbing all the time despite the copious amounts of bark infusion he was taking; moving his core in any direction was pure agony for him, as it was sitting up propped against some pillows, the position he had to endure right then while talking to his father; and the last thing he needed was worrying about how he could help his cousin staying alive. Besides, he had the gut feeling there was something else his father was not telling him.

"I don't know. Why is this semi-official document so filthy and creased?" Diego said, turning the paper in his hand a couple of times. I thought you would take better care of this, Father.

"I fell to the ground with it when the soldiers pushed me, and people trod over it. I was lucky they didn't tread over me as well. And this is Zorro's blood, according to Mendoza," he added, pointing at the blood stain at the corner.

I know what that is, thank you.

"Really? I wonder how Zorro is. Do you think he is alright?"

"I don't know but I hope so, because we really need him now. I think he is the only one who can sort this mess out if we cannot use this document to dissuade the alcalde from hanging Esteban tomorrow," Don Alejandro said.

Yes, and Zorro is going to get down from his cloud, because he is immortal, and sort everything out with his almighty sword like the Angel of Justice while you angeleños look from afar, safe and sound, cheering on him without moving a finger. Somehow, I don't think that will happen this time! Diego thought, bitter.

"You said the citizens were rebelling against the soldiers this morning. Why don't you get organized and overthrown the alcalde once and for all? He can't possibly try to hang you all tomorrow, can he?"

"I think the citizens are organizing a revolt, yes, because we can't let that happen, of course, especially to an innocent woman. But lives will be lost tomorrow if people revolt, I am sure of that. The soldiers shot Alberto Salas in the chest this morning, and he is fighting for his life right now."

"What woman?" Diego asked, although his heart already knew which one.

Don Alejandro played deaf then, cursing himself for that blunder, and carried on talking about the injured man.

"What innocent woman? Are you talking about Victoria?" Diego insisted.

"Diego, please, forget I mentioned that. We have to go back to the pueblo now. You stay here resting and getting better. You have been very helpful, Son, because we didn't waste precious time travelling to Santa Paula to see the lawyer. Vamos, Emilio," Don Alejandro said, heading for the door.

"What about Victoria?!"

"I don't think you should know about it, Diego," Don Emilio said.

"Know what?"

"I didn't want to tell you, Son, because there is nothing you can do about it, and you are only going to worry unnecessarily, when all you need to do right now is rest and get better to be back on your feet as soon as possible."

"For Christ sake, Father, just tell me! What's wrong with Victoria?!" Diego shouted, losing it.

"Alright, if you insist, I'll tell you: the alcalde flogged her this morning, and then he announced she will be hanged at the gallows tomorrow, the same as Esteban."

"What?!"

"See? I shouldn't have told you. Calm down now, please."

"Flogged? Her? Why?!" Diego cried. He was shocked. After all that time trying to keep her safe, sacrificing a possible life together, now it didn't matter if she knew his secret identity or not: because of him, she could still be flogged and hanged, regardless, and the mere thought of it drove him insane.

"You know the alcalde is crazy, don't you? But she only received one single lash. Esteban got in the way when the crowd went mad, and broke Ramón's arm. That's why he wants to hang him, for revenge. And now the alcalde says the two of them are Zorro's accomplices, another excuse to hang them both."

"I just can't believe any of this," Diego said, in denial, shaking his head. "I really can't."

"Neither do we," Don Emilio said, "but it's happening all the same."

"Why couldn't you tell me the whole story in an orderly fashion, Father, rather than dropping pieces of information here and there, like pigeon poop?" Diego said, directing his anger at his father. What a gigantic waste of time!

"Because I wanted to spare you the pain and the worry, Diego, because there is nothing you can do about it, and now you are going to feel the angst like the rest of us."

We'll see if I can do something or not.

"Sometimes, ignorance is bliss, Diego," his uncle said. "Your father did it for your own good."

"Exactly. And we are going now, Son. We'll see you later," Don Alejandro said.

After they left, Diego looked at Felipe, who was quiet in one corner of the room.

"You knew about this, didn't you?"

"I knew she had been taken to jail yesterday. I left your message on her pillow when I went to fetch the doctor, and then I found out she was already in jail, too late. I didn't know about the flogging, or the hanging," Felipe signed.

"Do you mean she still hasn't got my message?"

Felipe shrugged his shoulders then.

"Why didn't you tell me she was in jail?!" Diego shouted, too angry to think straight.

"First, because you were unconscious. Second, because there was nothing you could do about it. As your uncle said: sometimes, ignorance is bliss," Felipe signed, annoyed to be the one taking the blame.

"Sorry, I shouldn't shout at you. It's just… This is too much. And I don't know what to do."

He pushed the bed covers away to stand up, but when he tried to lift his torso from the pillows, he cried in pain while holding his aching side. He gritted his teeth and stood up anyway, ignoring the pain, and then walked a few unsteady steps until he had to stop, leaning with his elbows on the nearest side table, too weak to carry on.

"Fuck! I can't do this."

Felipe passed Diego's arm over his shoulder and helped him back to bed, nearly dragging him along.

"I have to get better by tonight, Felipe. I really have to," Diego said, out of breath, while grasping Felipe's shirt. "We only have a few hours left, and you'll have to help me to find a way."

ZZZ

After a few minutes enduring excruciating pain while Victoria cleaned all that mess on his back, he relaxed at last when she applied the soothing ointment.

"That's much better, thank you," Esteban said, letting out a long sigh, relaxing his fists.

"I think you should stay on that bench stretched like this for a while, and let the ointment work on the wounds before I re-dress them."

"Yes, thank you. That would be great."

"I'll sit down on the other one."

"Oh, wait," he said, grabbing her wrist when she passed by. "Before you go over there, I have something for you." He got the piece of paper still in his pocket and put it in her hand. "Keep it safe. I think it's from Zorro. Someone left it on your pillow."

"In my room?" she said, unfolding it.

"I don't know. I presume so. That's what Pilar said. Maybe Zorro didn't know you were in jail when someone delivered that to you."

She sat down on the other bench to read the note. When she started crying, he had a brief feeling of joy, but he regretted immediately. He didn't wish any harm to Zorro, and he didn't want him to die to have a free path to get his girlfriend. That would be too mean, and he wasn't that low. He was up for healthy competition with him, yes, but not for ill feelings.

"Bad news?"

She shook her head then, and through the tears she smiled a painfully distressed grin; a funny mix of joy and grief.

"No, he is alright."

"Thank God for that."

She read the note again, overwhelmed by the emotion when she stopped at one of the last sentences: "I'll have you back in my arms soon." She really wanted to be in his arms, but reading that made her feel extremely guilty, because only a few minutes ago she had contemplated one more time the possibility of a life with someone else: with her imaginary husband Esteban.

"Yes, gracias a Dios he is alright." She stood up then and left the note on the bench, in front of his face so he could read it. "See? This is why you should stay away from me. I am off-limits for you."

Querida Victoria,

I am writing this note so you don't worry about me while I disappear for a few days. I am recovering from my injury, but while I do so, you will not see me around.

I will be thinking about you every minute I am away from you, as always.

Take care, and as I said, do not worry about me. I'll have you back in my arms soon.

I love you,

Zorro

"That's nice, and I'm really thrilled for you. But it doesn't mean I will stop loving you. It doesn't work that way. As long as you are not married to him, I will not lose hope."

"You should."

"But I won't."

"Suit yourself then," she said, coming back to the other bench carrying the blanket with her. She lay on the bench then, covering herself with the blanket, and from there she looked at Esteban, who was staring at her not taking his eyes off her.

"What?" she said.

"Nothing."

"Try to have some rest, will you?"

"It's easy for you to say that. I don't have a blanket," he said with a cheeky smile on his face. She stood up then, willing to hand hers over. "No! Keep it. I'm only joking. It would only get stuck to my wounds and then you'll be delighted to torture me again while you peel it off. No, thank you, it's not worth it. Keep it."

"Fine," she said, laughing as well, and then she lay down again. She closed her eyes trying to fall asleep, and she didn't notice how Esteban continued to look at her until she dozed off. Then, he looked at the piece of paper in front of him again, frowning when he got to the "I'll have you back in my arms soon."

Later, much later, hopefully, he thought. He folded the piece of paper again and put it back in his pocket to keep it safe, because he was sure she would ask for it later.

ZZZ

Back in bed, Diego's mind overloaded with the stress. He could not stop thinking a succession of random thoughts, unable to focus in any of them for more than a few seconds.

First, he wished he could take revenge on the alcalde, and kill him like the rabid dog he was for doing that to his beloved Victoria. Next, he wished he could be at Victoria's side, comforting her, whispering gently at her ear, telling her everything was going to be alright. Then, he fretted with worry, because the one whispering at her ear and comforting her right now was his cousin, and the fool was also in love with her, and not to be trusted. The poor woman would be really vulnerable right then, an emotional mess, and having that immature, impulsive young man by her side could not possibly be any good, especially for Zorro. If at least she had read the message, she would not be so worried about him, because otherwise she could think Zorro was already dead and fall in Esteban's arms to be soothed, and to ease the pain of the loss. And then he cursed nearly every sacred thing he could think of because it was so unfair he was so badly injured this time, bedridden and unable to come to the rescue when he was needed the most. At last, he tried hard to think of any treatments, any temporary solutions he could use to take away the pain and the weakness, invigorating him even for a short period of time, just enough to do the deed. Anything at all, even if afterwards he would get worse with a vengeance, and even if that miracle drug could kill him in the short term. As long as she was safe, forever, it would be worth it. But he didn't have a clue what drugs he could use, and he only had a few hours to find out.

And then, the last random thought: his father was right. A citizen's revolt could pay a high price with many lives lost on both sides. So, as the last resort, if the morning came and he still hadn't found a way to rescue them, rather than hoping a revolt would be a success, he should give himself up and trade their lives for his. That way, only one life would be lost instead of many. Or two, if only he could take the alcalde to hell with him somehow…

ZZZZZ