In late August of 1814, Sergeant Mendoza, the right hand of the Los Angeles' alcalde was impatiently awaiting for the carriage from the port to arrive. It was far too hot to stand outside, and it was already time for siesta. Taking his right hand to his mouth to cover a yawn, he glanced impatiently at the horizon. "They should be here by now!" he muttered with discontent.
He was just about to send his men to investigate, suspecting either bandits or an accident might have caused the delay when the coach from San Pedro finally appeared on the horizon. Five minutes later, it entered the pueblo.
"Welcome to Los Angeles," he greeted before the passengers stepped out of it, "I am Sergeant Jaime Mendoza, and I must inform you that the pueblo's traveler's tax stands at 5 pesos, which must be paid in full upon arrival."
"Traveler's tax? Five pesos?" a man asked as he came out of the carriage.
"Si, Señor, everyone must pay it."
"Very well, then," the newcomer said, taking a few coins from his jacket's pocket, counting them, then handing the sergeant the requested amount.
Mendoza took it, counted it, and then opened his registry. "I will also need to know your name, Señor, and what is your business here," he demanded to know in order to write it down.
"Rafael –" was all the newcomer was able to utter before being interrupted.
"Señor Montoya!" Mendoza turned his head to recognize the lawyer who had bought the De la Vega Hacienda. "Welcome to Los Angeles" the man continued, addressing the newcomer, then, turned towards the lancer. "Sergeant, this gentleman is mayordomo to el Conde de Dragonera." De Amo explained. "Señor Montoya, if you'll be so kind as to follow me…" he continued, signing towards the carriage he had just arrived in.
The newcomer agreed with a smile, as he checked his time piece. "A good day, Sergeant," he wished the man before heading for the carriage, which soon made its way out of town.
"So… I owe you five pesos if I heard that right," the next passenger to come out of the coach said.
Mendoza, who had been staring after Señor Montoya, turned his glance to him and stuttered a little at noticing he was a man of the cloth.
"A… Ah…" the sergeant muttered, "Si, padre… I fear it's the alcalde who demands it to be paid by each person staying more than five minutes in the pueblo."
"I see." The elderly man said, and, taking out a small pouch, produced the requested sum.
The sergeant took it, wrote the man's name in his registry, and, as nobody else descended, left, heading for the garrison.
The padre glanced around, then headed for the tavern.
He was quite tall and slender, despite his round face and rather big, reddish nose that gave him a particularly friendly demeanor. His white hair and the slowness of his movements spoke of a man in his late sixties. His robe was black, held at the middle with just as black a sash. While his appearance was rather modest, the big, gold cross around his neck indicated that he was, in fact, a high-ranking member of the clergy.
Entering the tavern, the padre sat down at one of the tables.
The woman at the bar noticed him and hurried to bring him some water.
"Gracias, hija," he muttered as he gratefully accepted the glass she poured for him, drinking it in one go.
She smiled and refilled it in an instant.
"Bless you," he muttered as he also drank the second glass. "I was parched."
"Have you traveled a long way, Padre," she wondered.
"Barcelona… quite the distance. And I spent most of it feeling seasick. You don't know how good it is to be back on land again."
"Si, Padre… Are you here to lead our Mission?"
"Oh, no, my child. I am in a sort of self-imposed exile. I am old and wish to spend my remaining days in peace and solitude, so I convinced my diocesan bishop to allow me to come here. In exchange, I promised him a comprehensive study of the Californian native flora, which I can only hope to live long enough to deliver."
She looked at him and nodded. "Then, you will be staying in Los Angeles?"
"Yes… For a while, at least. I was told it was a peaceful place…" he replied.
"It's a shame you won't be taking over the Mission. We haven't had a padre here in almost a year. More, actually, seeing how the last one turned out to be an impostor."
"Impostor?"
"Oh, si. The man told us he was Padre Benitez, who we were all waiting for after our former padre had died. But, in truth, he had kidnapped and killed the true padre, passing himself off for him. It all came to light when someone who knew the real Padre Benitez told everyone it wasn't him, and he ran away. By then, though, several of the neophytes had been punished for his crimes, and many left to return to living in tribes. Some people say the former alcalde, Luis Ramone, who died a while back, was also in league with that man..."
"Really?"
"Well, after all that, we've been having difficulties finding a new padre to come here. It's not easy to start everything over, and that man had all but destroyed the Mission. We don't even have an orphanage anymore."
"No orphanage? What about the children who were there?"
"Some were moved to Santa Barbara, some were taken by merciful families, and a few of the older ones were hired as servants."
"I see… Tell me, Señorita, who owns this tavern?"
"Señorita Victoria Escalante."
"A woman? Unmarried?"
"I know it's not very common, but Victoria only loved one man in her life. He left in 1806 to study in Madrid and Victoria had been waiting for him to return and marry her. Unfortunately, as we just found out a few weeks back, he has been dead for over a year now."
"Really?"
"Si, Padre. Don Alejandro, one of the haciendados, was his father. A letter arrived from France announcing his death a few weeks back. The news hit both the don and Victoria pretty hard."
The old man nodded pensively. "I have no doubt… But the señorita, now that she knows that young man is dead, can, at least, move on with her life."
"I don't know about that, Padre…"
"She must be at least considering finding someone else to marry…"
"No, padre… She says she's in mourning, but I think she is still hoping for a miracle. And, considering how she felt about Don Diego – that was his name – I also fear that she might end up a spinster."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because I doubt she might be able to love like that again and she is too stubborn to settle for less…"
"She loved him that much?"
"Si, Padre. Very much…"
"And this Don Alejandro, he doesn't have any other children?"
"No. Well, not exactly. He only had one true son but, before he had left for Spain, Don Diego had found and brought home a boy called Felipe. He was a deaf-mute whose parents had died in the August Revolution. Don Alejandro raised him and was even considering adopting the boy."
"And?"
"One day, a woman came claiming to be his long-lost mother, and Don Alejandro allowed the boy to leave with her. Victoria sensed something wasn't right with the entire affair. But, by the time she managed to warn Don Alejandro, the woman, and Felipe were long gone, and we never found out anything about the boy's fate. At some point, news did reach us, however, that a woman looking remarkably like the one who had claimed Felipe was wanted for robbing a bank in San Diego. The former alcalde Luis Ramone took it upon himself to investigate at that point and traveled to San Diego to see if he could find any information about the boy, but he returned empty-handed."
"I see…" the man said pensively.
"Yes… Poor Don Alejandro. Things have been going from bad to worse for him for a while already…"
"I guess there can be no pain as hard to endure as that of a parent at losing his child…"
"No… I doubt there is… And, after all that, the poor man lost everything else he had left."
"How so?"
"I guess… he was just unlucky, Padre. When the new alcalde came, he asked the dons to present the deeds to their lands to him, but Don Alejandro's had been stolen…"
"Aren't the deeds all kept at Fortaleza del Diablo, in Baja California?"
"Si, padre but, when the dons went searching for their deeds, about a year back, they all found theirs but Don Alejandro never found his. Without the deed, Alcalde De Soto confiscated the hacienda, which forced Don Alejandro to buy it back from him. However, to do so, he had to use all the money he had and borrow some, as well. After that, his crops failed, and he had to sell part of his lands to stay afloat, then some of his herds to pay his debts… or was it the other way around? Well, finally, his vineyards burnt down just as an emissary arrived demanding 20,000 pesos to be paid for the Spanish king. Like we don't pay enough as it is to the man… Anyway, I heard the emissary also asked Don Alejandro to pay rent for all the years his family had used their lands, claiming that he had occupied them illegally since the papers could not be found. In the end, Don Alejandro sold everything to make sure the emissary didn't get his hands on his house and lands as he tried to. But this is a long story, and I must be already boring you…"
"I am not easily bored, Señorita. Besides, long stories are my favorite."
"Señorita! Señorita!" they heard from a nearby table.
"Excuse me, Padre…" she said, nodding at the man as she headed for her other patrons.
The man watched her leave and remained pensive when his eyes caught the bouncing hair of Victoria Escalante, who had just entered the tavern, heading for her room.
He remained staring at the young, beautiful woman, then noticed Alicia coming back with a plate of food.
"Who is that?" he asked the tavern helper after gratefully accepting the meal, certain the young woman had noticed him staring.
"Victoria Escalante, my employer" she answered. "Today is a sad day for her. The day her mother was executed."
"Another long story, I assume," the padre said.
She glanced around, then nodded and sat down.
"It is, indeed."
"Would it be too much to ask you to recount it for me?"
The young woman shook her head. There was something about that old man, something that told her she could trust him. That he could, perhaps, help somehow.
"Victoria's mother had found an injured man one day," she uttered as she started telling him the story, "while she was gathering berries for her pies. Unwilling to let him die alone, she brought him to the tavern. Her husband and sons were not here at the time, having headed to the port that day. Victoria, herself, was visiting Don Alejandro.
"Not long after Señora Escalante brought the man here, soldiers arrived from the south, searching for revolutionaries, and found her caring for the man. Seeing how she was unable to tell them his name, nor could she explain his gun wound, they said he was a revolutionary and shot him on the spot, no questions asked. Twenty minutes later, they put the señora in front of a firing squad, accusing her of having provided aid to the enemies of Spain. By the time Victoria arrived, her mother was lying in a pool of blood, lifeless, just outside the cuartel. When her father and brothers later returned home and were told what had happened, they buried the señora, then Señor Escalante went to see a lawyer, put the tavern in Victoria's name, and, together with his sons, headed south, set on avenging his wife."
"And leaving his daughter all alone in the process."
"Si…" the young woman said sadly. "Eventually, one of the boys joined the army, and the other became a vaquero in Venezuela. They visit at times, but not as often as Victoria would like. As for Señor Alfonso – that was Victoria's father's first name – we did receive news at one point that he had perished in one of the battles between the rebels and the military, but, about a year and a half ago, news arrived that he was, in fact, at the Fortaleza del Diablo.
"When she found out, Victoria went there hoping to see him, but they didn't allow her to. Her father died the same day of her arrival. She never got to say goodbye to him, unfortunately, but at least she made sure to give him a proper funeral."
"She must be quite brave if she dared make the journey all alone…"
"She didn't go alone, padre. Don Alejandro wanted to go with her but was injured at the time, and she didn't want to wait. However, when the former alcalde heard that she was going to the Fortress, he decided to accompany her, taking Sergeant Mendoza with him. To this day the Sergeant swears the former alcalde had some hidden agenda when he decided to make the voyage south. Whatever it was, he took that secret to his grave, for he was killed by some bandits just two days after getting back to Los Angeles. Not that anyone regrets that monster. All he cared about was enriching himself by any means…"
"So, finally a padre dared come to our humble pueblo." The voice of the man uttering those words made the padre's hair stand on end. As he turned, he saw Gilberto Risendo heading towards the table he was sharing with Alicia, and the young woman excused herself and hurriedly left, as if fearing the man.
"I am an abbot, actually, Señor," he replied after a few moments spent glancing at the man.
"Oh? What an honor to have an abbot in charge of our Mission, in that case," Risendo continued.
"I fear you are mistaken as to the reason for my presence in this pueblo," the padre said. "I am not here to take over the Mission. I have a far different one of my own. I intend to dedicate myself to the study of California's nature. I was sent here to catalog all the plants indigenous to this territory as well as their properties."
"I see…"
"Yes… I am currently waiting for my servants to take me to my new hacienda…"
"That hacienda, it wouldn't happen to be the new house they just built north of the pueblo, on the former De la Vega lands?"
"The De la Vega lands? I am unsure, but I do believe it is north of the pueblo, indeed."
Gilberto frowned, but only for a second. "In that case, padre, as one of your new neighbors, permit me to wish you a pleasant stay in Los Angeles. Adios," he uttered as he turned and left the tavern.
The padre followed him with his eyes as he crossed the plaza and entered the alcalde's office, then returned to his meal.
About half an hour later a carriage arrived for him, and he left accompanied by six servants.