Chapter 105 – Like Jesus at Gethsemane
Putting his irritation aside, the captain tried to deliver the facts of the imminent attack in a calmed and relaxed fashion. However, despite his good intentions to avoid unnecessary turmoil, he used his unbiased, rather tactless style: the straight to the point, tell-it-as-it-is, blunt way. And that honest approach, that his crew had appreciated and respected, didn't go down as well with the thirty-two passengers onboard, who took his words like a bullet to the head.
A moment of stunned silence followed Ulloa's speech, but it only lasted for a few seconds, because when his audience fully grasped the implications of the shocking news, all hell broke loose at the dining room. Many women cried, hysterical, demanding protection from their husbands and companions, making a scene, while Victoria and Doña Margarita tried to calm them down. At the same time, most men shouted at the captain in anger, blaming him for the situation and demanding protection from him and the crew, in a rather aggressive way, as if they were entitled to it somehow. And the worst offender of all was Don Enrique, leading that pack of bloodthirsty wolves.
"What the hell do you mean by that, Captain? Are you telling me a bunch of degenerates are about to attack and board this ship, and you won't do anything to prevent it?"
"Everybody, please, calm down!" Ulloa cried, trying to remain calm himself while overwhelmed by a mob of loud, angry men, answering their questions as best he could, his voice almost lost in the uproar. "That's not what I said, for Christ's sake! Of course we are taking all the appropriate measures to…"
"But you want us to fight, and risk our lives to save your ass, and your ship!" another influential caballero interrupted. "You should do the fighting, Captain! That's what we pay you for!"
"No, you don't. You don't pay me anything. And the shipping company only pays for the transport of goods and people, not to go to war against pirates! That's way above our pay grade!"
The male passengers carried on shouting empty threats, ludicrous demands, and all kinds of insults, surrounding the captain. Diego and Almeida looked at each other, fearing they could try to hit him.
"I won't tolerate any kind of abuse or unreasonable demands on my crew!" Ulloa cried, trying to make himself heard above the general outcry, gradually growing more and more upset. "We are trying our best to deal with this situation, for everyone's sake, but as I already explained, it's very unlikely we'll be able to avoid getting boarded! Can you understand that?"
"You fired the cannons against that iceberg off the coast of Chile! You knew about this, already, didn't you?" another angry man cried, pushing the captain once while everybody got dangerously closer, and then he pushed him a second time, hitting his chest with both hands. "Didn't you?"
Diego and Almeida tried to assist Ulloa, but they couldn't get through the packed crowd. However, the stocky man from Guetaria didn't look like in need of much help, because he didn't budge, increasingly annoyed, with his own rage rapidly building up.
"Don't you ever do that again!" Ulloa warned, dragging his words, almost growling, irked by a situation that was getting so out of control, so fast. Of all things, he could have expected a mutiny coming from the crew, but not the blooming passengers! "If you do, Señor, I'll have you restrained in shackles and locked away at once!"
"¡Y una mierda!" that man replied, pushing him again. Ulloa reacted to the physical attack by grabbing that man's wrist, twisting it, bending his arm behind his back so the man would drop down on his knees in pain, in order to avoid a nasty fracture.
"QUIET!" Ulloa cried at the top of his lungs while holding that man's arm, fed up of the escándalo that surrounded him. The upset passengers reacted to that powerful, commanding voice, because they all fell silent at once, taking a step back. "What is so difficult to understand, you selfish bastards?! A pirate ship ten times faster than we are and with five times our gunpower will be by our side spitting fire in less than two hours! I tried, maldita sea, I really tried, but there isn't much I can do about it, so we'll have to deal with it! All of us! Together!"
He let go of the angry passenger, who crawled away from him like a beaten dog.
"This is a merchant brig, for crying out loud, not a Man-O'-War! My crew members are sailors, not soldiers! They don't know how to fight any better than you do! But we would appreciate any help we can get, because, pay close attention to this: if those bastards come onboard, they won't see any difference between the crew and the passengers! For them, we will all be targets, all the same, every one of us! It won't matter how rich or important you think you are now! In fact, the richer you are, the worse it could get for you, because the bastards may decide to kidnap you for ransom!"
If the passengers had thought the first speech form Ulloa had been too harsh in the details, every new word he added now felt like a kick in the nuts.
"So, if any of you has any military training, any personal weapons you can use, anything at all, and specially: if hot blood runs through your damned veins and you wish to defend yourselves and your loved ones, please, grow a pair, and step up to help! Otherwise, get out of my sight and out of the way! Crawl into a fucking hole somewhere if you must, and get praying, because if you choose to do that, ask God to have mercy on your soul, because I surely won't, and neither will the bloody pirates!"
By then, you could have heard a pin drop in the dining room. Finally, the deeply upset Ulloa wrapped his "motivational speech of doom" up with a last, angry piece of advice.
"But please, whatever you decide to do, KEEP THE GODDAMN DRAMA TO YOURSELVES, because I had enough! Do I make myself clear?!"
"Crystal, Captain, thank you," Diego said, steeping in to address his stunned, fellow passengers. "Listen to his words, please! The captain is right. All able men on board should join the crew in a combined effort to repel this attack. Only the women, the elderly, and the very young should hide away."
"Will you fight, Don Diego?" asked Antonio Ibarra, one of the few men who had remained silent during the commotion, a quiet caballero Diego had also befriended during the long journey.
"Sure, of course I will! Now, Captain, please, allow me to tell them about our special plan for the women onboard," Diego said, fearing that if Ulloa continued with that outrageous, blunt approach to the naked truth, the women would be willing to blow themselves up right then and there.
"Be my guest, De la Vega," the shaken captain said with a hoarse voice, clearing his throat, now quite sore after all that angry shouting at top volume.
Backed by Victoria and Doña Margarita, Diego told the passengers about that desperate plan for the females onboard, to avoid falling in the hands of the pirates. After the previous, shocking and dramatic speech from the captain, his gentle explanation of the situation, and of the worst possible outcome, made all the women accept at once that blowing themselves up with the ship, was a reasonable and logical solution to the problem. After that, the captain continued, now in his standard, serene tone.
"Now, everybody, please: we don't have much time left to prepare before the pirates hit us. Do whatever you need to do during the next half an hour, and after that, all gentlemen please report to the contramaestre Almeida to join us in the preparation for the fray. At the same time, Chief Officer Ojeda will take all the women and children to the cargo hold. I repeat: you have half an hour. God bless you all, and…" he paused to clear his throat again, awkwardly, and then continued, rushing his last words, "…sorry for my bluntness."
Ulloa left the dining room then, followed by Almeida.
"Forgive his manners, please, he's under a lot of stress," Diego said after they left, "but he is absolutely right on everything he told you."
ZZZ
On the way out, Ulloa had an idea that could help lifting everyone's spirits up a bit.
"Almeida, find Tamayo and ask him to prepare a generous portion of ham and a pitcher of beer for all members of the crew, and also for the passengers," he ordered after they left the dining room. "That could be our last meal in many hours, and we'll need the energy later. Besides, our precious jamón Ibérico may end up in the hands of those bastards, so… Sod it! We'll eat it now!"
"Good idea, Sir! Thanks!" Almeida said, already on his way to the kitchen.
"Wait! Another thing: if anybody needs me in the next half an hour, I'll be in my cabin, preparing my weapons. And tell Ojeda he is charge of the women. He knows what to do; we talked about this before."
ZZZ
After the passengers calmed down, more or less accepting their grim fate, and when the situation seemed to be under control, Diego and Victoria also left the dining room. On their way to their cabin, they bumped into Almeida in the corridor, already returning from the kitchen.
"Where did the captain go?" Diego asked. "I must talk to him in private again, please."
"He'll be at his cabin for the next half an hour."
"I'll meet him there then, thanks."
When Diego and Victoria got to their cabin, away from prying eyes and ears, she asked him about the plan.
"Diego, did you think of a plan yet?"
"Yes, I did, but it won't be easy to pull it off."
"What is it?"
"We have to take the offensive, and attack them."
"What?! Have you lost your mind?"
"That's exactly what the captain said…" Diego replied, with a sad smile. "No, my dear, I'm not insane. As you said: I should take them by surprise. And what could be more unexpected for those pirates than chasing a merchant ship that suddenly turns around and attacks them, displaying the Jolly Roger?"
"You want to pretend you are another pirate… turning on the pirates?"
"Yes, but not "any other pirate". I'll be… The Dread Pirate Roberts!"
"Diego, I think you really lost your marbles!"
"Don't you like that name? I could think of another…"
Victoria shook her head with her mouth open, totally out of words, speechless.
"At least I'll have a good excuse to dress as Zorro in public, don't you think?"
"I… I… I just can't believe any of this. I don't know what to say!"
Diego approached his stunned wife to take her hands and kiss them.
"Seriously, I think this may work, Victoria. Besides, it's the only way I can think of."
"If you think it's the only way… then do it, Diego. I trust you. One hundred percent. Go for it!"
Diego kissed her forehead lightly then.
"Thank you, querida."
He produced then a Spanish flag, a brush, a can with black paint, and another one with white paint.
"Can you please make a pirate flag? You know, the Jolly Rogers, with the skull and bones. Give it to Chief Officer Ojeda when you are done, por favor."
Victoria took the flag and the cans, more and more baffled by the situation.
Then, Diego reached for the trunk under their berth, opened it, and gathered Zorro's clothes and weapons, and also a small box containing the extract of the coca leaves, just in case he would need it for a boost later on.
"I won't need them today," he said, placing the hat and the cape back at the bottom of the trunk.
Next, Victoria watched him transform into Zorro, something she had never seen before. It was totally mesmerizing for her, because somehow, she still had trouble accepting Diego was the real man under that mask. She watched him remove his clothes, revealing that familiar, muscular body, marked by multiple scars all over, and once again, she felt upset thinking he would probably add a few more by the end of the day, if he managed to survive. Then, as he put the black clothes on slowly, one piece at a time, she remembered the good old times, when she felt so insanely attracted by the masked, mysterious hero, when she didn't even know his identity. Fighting the tears, she helped him to adjust the sash tightly, in silence, flinching when their hands touched briefly. At last, when he finished adjusting the mask, the transformation was complete. He looked at her through the holes then, and as many times before, she wondered how the hell she could have been so blind for years, and why she never realized those blue eyes were no others but Diego's.
Recognizing the sadness and the longing in her eyes, he leaned to deliver another endless, tender kiss. A special one. A "good-bye, my love; I'll hopefully see you later", kind of kiss.
"I love you, Victoria. I have always loved you, and I always will," he declared, embracing her for the umpteenth time that day.
"Me too. Take care of yourself, please, and come back to me in one piece."
"Sure. I'll try my best."
"Ojeda will take us to the cargo hold soon. I hope it will be you who comes down to get us out of there!"
He kissed her again, and then left the cabin swiftly, with bated breath and a heavy heart.
ZZZ
Zorro knocked at the captain's cabin door twice. As he got no reply, he slowly opened the door to have a quick peep, only to check if he had left already.
Ulloa was sitting at the chart table, where he had arranged all his weapons, including a couple of guns, two daggers, and a military sword, all ready for battle. Elbows on the table, he seemed to be collecting his thoughts, with his face resting lightly in his hands, but when he turned his head to look at the door, he looked unusually troubled, with reddened, watery eyes, as if he had been crying.
"Who the hell are you?" he cried while reaching for one of his guns, startled by the black-clad figure that had come into his cabin uninvited.
Oh, please, not again! Diego thought, lifting his hands up quickly, suffering another spell of déjà vu when he saw that gun's barrel pointing his way.
"I'm Diego! Don't shoot!"
Already standing and aiming that gun at the intruder's face, Ulloa stopped in his tracks when he was about to pull the trigger, surprised, taking in that familiar voice, the tall shape, and the distinctive moustache.
"De la Vega?" he said, tilting his head while wondering. Diego removed the mask swiftly, so he could see his face.
"Sorry, Captain, I should not have come dressed like this without warning you first!"
"What the fuck are you playing at?! Jesus, you gave me a fright!" Ulloa cried, sitting down again at the table, all jittery, with his hands shaking when he left the gun. "For a moment, I thought the goddamn pirates had boarded us already!"
"No, I'm not a real pirate, don't fret. This is just… a party costume of sorts," Diego lied, quite shaken, not ready to reveal his secret yet. Then, he slumped on a seat at the other side of the table, in front of the captain, trying to calm down.
"I need a drink!" Ulloa said.
The captain grabbed a bottle of brandy and two small glasses from the cabinet on his right, and set them on that table, between the guns. Then, he filled the glasses to the rim with those shaky hands, spilling some of the liquor, and pushed one glass towards Diego, spilling some more.
"Drink with me, please," he said, lifting his glass. "For… survival. Yeah, that would do."
Diego didn't usually drink, even less before noon on an empty stomach, but he thought that, under the circumstances, he couldn't refuse. He lifted the glass and took only a tiny sip, while Ulloa gulped his drink in one go.
"So, what the hell are you dressed like that for? Are you switching sides, betting on the likely winners, like a regular backstabber?" Ulloa said, deeply sarcastic, shaking his head as he left the empty glass on the table. "Jeez, I could expect something this foolish from that treacherous Salamero, but not from you!"
Diego relaxed and chuckled lightly then, also amused.
"Look, when I told you that our best defence would be taking the offence, I didn't tell you my whole plan. What I meant is this: we have to attack them as they less expect. Like… pirates."
"All right, no more alcohol for you," Ulloa said, taking the almost full glass from Diego's hands. He looked at it for a moment, hesitating, then shrugged his shoulders and gulped it down, the same as he had done with the other one. "For the love of God, De la Vega, you are losing the plot completely! You have no idea what you're talking about!"
"Yes, you're right, I've never seen battle at sea, but I've been under fire many times before, and…"
"You don't really know what to expect at all, do you?" Ulloa interrupted, increasingly anxious and agitated. "Hardly anybody on board knows what's going to happen, or how bad it will be. But I do. And I don't want to go through that shit again!"
By then, the captain didn't look his usual, composed self at all, but someone quite stirred, almost manic.
"Dismembered bodies. The piercing shrieks and wails of your agonizing comrades, asking for the help you cannot give. Men tripping over the spilled guts of some poor devils who are still alive, begging to be put down. Blood pouring from the scuppers like rain off a roof top… It's like witnessing the sheer horror of hell itself, first-hand!"
Ulloa broke down then, crying with his hands covering his face, with his whole body shaking, as if reviving past horrors only he could see.
"Oh, God! Please, no. Not again! I don't want to die like that!"
"Captain, please, calm down," Diego said, bothered by his aberrant reaction.
"There are more than ninety souls onboard," Ulloa babbled while sobbing, in an almost unintelligible way, "and I'm responsible for all of them!"
"No, you're not," Diego said, reaching for his friend across the table, unsure how to help him.
"I'm the captain, and I'll steer you all to hell, one way or another, no matter what I do!" he jabbered on, lost in his own world of angst and sorrow. "Please, God, forgive me! I can't do this! I can't! There are women and children onboard this time around, joder!"
As the distraught captain cried his heart out, out of his mind, Diego could hear upbeat, loud voices at the adjacent cabin, the officer's mess, where the officers had gathered to have their last, power-meal together before the battle. But Ulloa was alone in his private cabin, cut off from them, visualizing the looming horror ahead of the events, suffering in advance, agonizing on his own. And for a man as plucky and brave as him, experiencing such a spectacular, nervous jamacuco, wasn't fair.
"Please, God, have mercy on us, and send a bolt of lightning to strike us all dead right now! Que nos parta un rayo will be better than walking through the Valley of Death hand in hand with the Devil!"
Diego was struck by a fleeting mental picture of Jesus agonizing and praying alone at the garden of Gethsemane, thinking the captain looked exactly like that: a frightened, isolated individual fully conscious of what lie ahead for him, wishing he could refuse the tribulation, self-doubting he would pull through it, all the while taking the weight of the responsibility of everyone's safety on his shoulders. Diego didn't envy his position at all, and felt terribly sorry for him.
Someone knocked on the door then. Diego opened it ajar, obstructing the view of the cabin's interior. It was the cook, Tamayo, bringing a portion of Ibérico ham for Ulloa, and a pitcher of beer.
"This is for the captain. A last meal, and a bit of energy for the battle, as he ordered. There is plenty here; it should be enough for you too, if you want some."
"Thank you," Diego said, taking the dish and the jug.
"Please, take that cup away from me!" Ulloa wailed then, just like Jesus, loud enough for the cook to hear him.
"What's wrong with him? He doesn't want the beer now?" Tamayo said, a bit cross. "I can bring him something else then. Coffee? Rum? Water?"
"No, he's fine, don't worry. Thanks for the ham!" Diego said, closing the door on Tamayo's face. He left the beer and the ham on the table and grabbed Ulloa by the shoulders, shaking him to get him out of that frantic, delirious state.
"Captain! Calm down, please!" he urged, to no avail, as Ulloa kept wailing with his eyes closed, recoiling and shaking in fear. "Captain Ulloa!"
He hit the captain on the face, quite hard, using Don Alejandro's technique of the therapeutic, mighty bofetón, but as Ulloa still didn't react to the slap, Diego grabbed the pitcher, trying to get his attention one last time, using his first name.
"Rafael! Stop it!"
Ulloa lifted his eyes briefly to look at him, still lost in that hectic, mental confusion, but he carried on crying until Diego splashed all the beer on his face, hitting him hard with it. Ulloa gasped then, kind of coming back to reality when he chocked, coughing.
"Arrghh! What the hell?"
"Rafael! Calm down!" Diego said, kneeling by the captain so he could look at him at eye level, grabbing his upper arms to shake him again. "I know it's difficult, but you must calm down and regain control of yourself!"
Ulloa looked down, at the strong hands holding his arms. And that reminded him of something important.
"I don't want to lose my arms, De la Vega. Or my legs. Or any parts of my body."
"I know. Me neither!"
"I don't want to end up like Blas de Lezo. Hell, no! No arm, no leg, no eye… El medio hombre, they called him, "half a man". How did he live like that? At least Nelson kept both legs! Dios, I don't think I could live with only half my body!"
"You won't have to. Listen, we're going to get through this, you and I, but I need you to regain control. You are the captain. You have all the skills. You can do it!"
"No, I can't!" Ulloa insisted, shaking his head, but he was gradually calming down, relaxing in Diego's hands at last.
"Only half an hour ago you looked fearless, spitting fire in that dining room, putting those arrogant dons in their place. Go back to that dauntless mental state, please, because we need you like that. We all do, if we want to get through this. Please, don't lose it! Bring back the daring, brave captain I know!"
Another knock on the door. It was Tamayo again, now bringing a cup of coffee.
"Thanks, the captain really needs some coffee now," Diego said, taking the cup.
Tamayo pushed the door open then to have a look inside, distrusting that caballero now dressed in black.
"Captain, are you all right?"
Ulloa was sitting straight, resting his head against the wall, taking deep breaths with his eyes closed. Then, he shook his head to snap out of his trance, no longer crying, and combed his beer-wet, dark and grey hair back with both hands, embarrassed.
"Is that coffee? Thanks, Tamayo," he managed to say in a more or less normal tone.
"You're welcome, Sir," the cook said, unconvinced. "The officers are waiting for your instructions, when you're ready."
"I just need a minute here. Almeida can start assigning weapons for the crew and the passengers, and Ojeda knows what needs to be done with the women. I'll be back at the bridge as soon as I can, thanks."
"Yes, Sir!"
Diego closed the door and returned to the table. Ulloa look mortified, slowly coming out of that bizarre episode, regaining his self-control.
"I'm sorry, De la Vega. I don't know what came onto me. For a moment, it felt like being in a war ship again, under heavy fire."
Diego remembered then the conversation he had with Doctor Hernández, when he thought Victoria was losing her mind after the rape.
"I think I know what happened. A doctor told me once he had seen war veterans suffering from similar stressful episodes, like suddenly relieving the horrors they had experienced in battle, sometimes many years later."
"It felt so real! But I have never before… Oh, God. Please, forgive me. This is too embarrassing."
"Here, drink some coffee. And have some ham," Diego said, passing him the plate, taking a portion himself. "Mmmm… this is nice!"
Ulloa drank a bit of coffee and took a slice of ham, munching it slowly, as if forcing himself to eat some, while Diego tucked in with gusto.
"Look, there is something I haven't told you yet. I wanted to, but I thought… Well, I don't know what I thought. Maybe I should have told you before, because you look like the kind of man who could understand. But it's too late now, and it doesn't really matter anymore, so…"
"You make no sense at all, De la Vega. What are you trying to tell me?" Ulloa said, leaving half of his piece of ham back on the plate, looking queasy.
"Well, the truth is, I'm dressed like this because… I'm Zorro."
"Zorro? The outlaw from California? You?" Ulloa said, sceptical. "Get out of here!"
"It's true, I am. I'm Zorro."
"Excuse me," Ulloa said then, reaching for the empty pitcher, where he threw up, emptying his upset stomach. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked at Diego again, ashamed, while breathing heavily, pale and sweaty. "Sorry, I feel like a damn wreck."
"This is the first time I get that kind of reaction when revealing my secret identity!" Diego said, chuckling to himself. Then, he produced the box with the coca powder. "Here, take some of this powder; it should help you. You should take it like this."
He showed Ulloa how to inhale the powder, and also to rub some on his gums. When the captain sniffed some, he instantly felt much better.
"Wow. Thanks. I truly feel better now, and more awake."
Right then, the ship suddenly tilted to a side, heeling. They heard voices shouting on the upper deck, and that got Ulloa instantly on full alert, back to his competent self. He quickly took his weapons and headed for the upper bridge, followed by Diego.
When they got outside, they realized the weather had suddenly changed, as they headed straight into the storm.
"Captain, we hit the storm much sooner than we thought, because it was heading our way!" Cárdenas cried when he reached the bridge. "The wind has suddenly changed, coming now from the northeast!"
"Reef all the sails! Take down the royals and moonrakers, and loose the stay!" Ulloa cried.
"We're trying, Sir, but the wind is too strong all of a sudden!"
Ulloa looked up, to the rigging, were the sailors tried hard to follow the instructions they've been given, fighting with the heavy sails. Right then, a bolt of lightning lit the now dark, grey sky, followed by a deafening, loud thunder, and they got hit by an instant downpour that made the sailor's task of lowering the sails nearly impossible.
Joder! I should have been here at the bridge ages ago to foresee this, while Ojeda is at the cargo hold! Ulloa thought, contrite, as they all got hit by that heavy rain that soaked them in seconds.
"Head into the wind!" he cried to the helmsman. "Heave to, and put her al pairo so we can lower those sails!"
Watching his reaction, Diego was happy to see the captain back to his usual, competent self after that dramatic breakdown. However, Ulloa also continued his string of back luck: before the ship could turn, they got hit by a gust of wind that pushed too hard on the wet sails, in the wrong direction.
"Goddammit!" Ulloa cried when the top portion of the foremast snapped under pressure and the whole structure came down at once, smashing the gunwale, partially falling into the water, dragging with it some of the sailors who were working on that rigging. Everybody on deck ran to help them, while the ship heeled dangerously to that side.
"Cut the stays! Cut everything and let go of the damn thing, because it will drag us down!" Ulloa cried, using one of his daggers to cut the first rope.
ZZZZZ
A.N. – I have to tell you: I absolutely loved writing that "motivational speech of doom" for the captain. It's the kind of powerful speech A-List actors love to deliver in a film, so I hope I can use something similar in one of my scripts one day. (For example, I can perfectly imagine Gary Oldman screaming his head off like that on screen, ha.)
And then, the poor guy has a nervous breakdown episode of PTSD, that not even Diego can fully understand, being only a budding, psychology pioneer specialist in superstitions… (Yeap, Diego, a beer splash makes up for electroshock, and cocaine is always welcome in any occasion, LOL)
Somehow, in the last few chapters, the captain is stealing the show from Diego, at least on the maiming and attracting disasters, because I find him an interesting character, very easy and fun to write, so I apologize for that, and for this very long chapter. But Diego will regain the spotlight soon because The Dread Pirate Roberts is about to make an appearance (if you don't recognize that name, he's the pirate in "The Princess Bride", who wears a suspiciously similar black outfit to Zorro's, except the hat and the cape).
Sorry, I couldn't help but using him here, because it's so fitting. So much, if I'm not careful, Diego may also end up using Iñigo Montoya's line with Pirate De Soto: "Hola, my name is Diego de la Vega. Your cousin's predecessor killed my cousin. Prepare to die." Hahahaha. Priceless!