Zorro nodded quietly.
It was Don Alejandro’s turn to look out over the hills for a time as he thought about what to say. “We cannot always know the mind of God,” he said. “We do not know why my beloved Isabella was taken from us, but we know that this was in God’s plan and we came to accept it. You, my son, have been given special strengths and gifts from God which come together in the man you are today. What you have done with these gifts is extraordinary.”
He turned to look at Zorro. “If it was not you that was chosen, then who else could it have been?” he asked quietly. “California needed you and you came.”
Zorro was quiet for a moment as he thought about Don Alejandro’s words. “In the beginning, it was not California, Father. It was you who needed me. For you, I was born,” he said gently, speaking not of himself only, but of Diego as well.
Don Alejandro swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat.
Zorro continued. “Before everything else that I am, I am your son.”
“Again you make me proud, Diego,” said Don Alejandro with great feeling. “Yes, I did need you. And you came. You made tremendous sacrifices to return here and take up this mantle.” Don Alejandro indicated Zorro’s vesture. “But I know that what you have become is greater than just my needs. And it is not California who needs you. It is the people who toil and strive to live in this land who need you.”
“And it is now my duty to protect them,” said Zorro. “This is what you intimated by your words in Monterey.”
“Those were my thoughts at the time, Diego. But, . . . I sometimes ask myself if I did the right thing in Monterey. Was I right to deny you something that you wanted so much? Was I being selfish? Was the sacrifice I asked you to make too great?”
Zorro looked up at the stars, remembering the Monterey of only a few short weeks before. “My heart was torn and the pain lingers,” he admitted to Don Alejandro. “But your words then made me realize that I could not give this up. Not yet. Not until my work is finished.”
“But, . . .” said Don Alejandro.
Zorro held up his hand to stop him. “No, Father. You were right. There is a higher calling that a man must meet in order to be at peace with himself. This calling I cannot deny. Whatever the ultimate reason that my life was set upon this path, this is my life now.”
Both men looked out into the darkness for a time, neither having words to fully express what they were thinking and feeling. But somehow in the silence between them, there was an understanding on a level so deep that the pain was exquisite. Don Alejandro reached out with his hand and Zorro clasped it tightly within his own as their eyes met.
Reluctantly Zorro said, “I must go now, Father.”
Don Alejandro gripped Zorro’s hand a moment more and then forced himself to let go. “Vaya con Dios, my son,” he said when he could speak again. “May His protecting hand always be upon you.”
“Gracias, Father,” said Zorro. “Con permisso?” With a quick smile, Zorro touched the brim of his hat in salute as he turned Tornado and ghosted away into the darkness.
In moments, Don Alejandro was once again alone on the hillside. He saw that the moon had risen even higher in the night sky and he scanned the vista spread out before him. He smiled as he located the faint, dark shadow moving across the land. He descended from his rocky perch and walked over to Isabella’s grave where he paused.
“There he goes, my beloved,” he said. “There goes our son. What two people were ever gifted with such a son as he? My old heart is full to bursting with the love and pride I have in him.” His eyes were drawn upwards as he suddenly saw the brief, but fiery trail left in the wake of a shooting star.
“Beautiful,” he murmured appreciatively. When he looked down across the land again, the faint shadow was gone. Where did Zorro ride this night? Don Alejandro did not know as yet.
But wherever rode the man of shadows, the heart of his father rode with him.
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