by Karla Gregory
Synopsis
Have you ever had one of those days when staying in bed would have been the best option? Well, even legendary heros of old Spanish California have an off day now and then. Diego is keeping tabs on Capitán Monastario and finds yet another reason for Zorro to ride in the night. But it is not one of his better days (or nights for that matter). Ride along with him as he faces odds too great even for Zorro to overcome!
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It was far too pleasant here in the patio of the tavern. Spring had come to Los Angeles, and a cool breeze was blowing across the plaza even this late in the afternoon. Diego had ordered wine for both he and Bernardo as they sat watching the activities of the pueblo. Or lack of activities, thought Diego. Not much was happening at present, just a few peons going about their business and a soldier or two walking their posts. Capitán Monastario had gone over to the Alcalde’s office on some matter of business, but that had been a good half hour ago. All was quiet.
As Diego looked back from his survey of the plaza, he noticed that Bernardo’s eyes were slowly closing. As he watched further, Bernardo actually drifted off to sleep. Diego shook his head with affection for his servant. Clearly, the last few nights had been tiring for the man as he had stayed up late to help Zorro come and go. Diego sighed. He too was feeling tired. If only Monastario would give things a rest for a day or two then maybe he and Bernardo could catch up on some much need sleep. But Diego was determined to keep Monastario off balance and to let him know that Zorro was ever vigilant. To do that, he had to be where he could keep an eye on things. He scrubbed his face with his hand to wake himself up and then reached over and deliberately pushed Bernardo’s elbow off of the table. Bernardo woke with a start and looked around with sleepy eyes trying to see what was the matter.
Pretending that he was fresh and awake himself, Diego chided Bernardo. “Come now. You cannot be that sleepy. After all it is not you who has to ride all those miles each night. Look at me.” He gestured with his hand. “I am as fresh as the spring flowers.”
Bernardo gave Diego a sideways look. He had eyes. He could see the traces of red in his young master’s eyes and the little lines on his face. He made the sign for a pig and made little flapping motions with his hands to say, “And pigs can fly too!”
Diego chuckled. “All right, my friend. You know me too well, but we must stay awake. Monastario will not quit so easily and I am sure something will happen that will require Zorro’s attention again tonight.”
Bernardo nodded in resignation and picked up his glass to take a drink of wine. As he looked over the plaza, he noticed Monastario going back to the cuartel with a couple of soldiers following behind him. He poked Diego under the table with his foot and nodded in Monastario’s direction.
Monastario was just passing the well in the center of the plaza. A peon who had been filling his jar with water picked up the vessel and placed it on his shoulder. This obscured his view, so that when he stepped out to go home with his water, he did not see Monastario and ran right into the commandanté. The jar tipped over and water spilled down the front of the commandanté’s uniform, soaking Monastario from head to foot.
“Estupido!” cried Monastario as he wiped at his uniform. The peon was terrified and could do nothing but wring his hands and bow, apologizing over and over. “You will pay for your clumsiness, peon,” said Monastario through his teeth. “I fine you ten pesos for defacing government property. Pay up or you will spend the next 10 days in jail.”
“But Capitán, I do not have that much money,” pleaded the peon. “I barely have enough to feed my family.” He fell on his knees.
“You should have thought of that before you were so clumsy. Guards! Put this man in jail.” Monastario stepped back as the guards picked up the peon and carried him into the cuartel. Monastario followed behind. The broken water jar lay where it fell.
Diego and Bernardo sighed together. Looking at Bernardo, Diego smiled ruefully. “Yes, Zorro will have reason to ride tonight.” Bernardo nodded. “Come, let us return home,” Diego said as he rose from the table. They both got on their horses and began the ride to the hacienda.
They were about half way home when the wind began to pick up noticeably. Diego looked around, not wanting to see what he knew was there. But there it was. A storm cloud was coming in from the west and it would catch them in just a few minutes. Signaling Bernardo to look, he said, “Come on, we had better hurry.” They put their horses into a gallop, but it was useless. The rains came and soon they were both soaked to the skin. They turned their horses over to the vaqueros at the stables and ran into the hacienda through the back entrance.
As they entered the sala on their way to Diego’s rooms, Don Alejandro greeted them with a smile. He was amused to see his usually dapper son soaking wet, his hair plastered to his head, with the exception of one lock which insisted on falling down on his forehead. He could not resist needling Diego a bit. “Ah, I see you were caught in a little spring shower, Diego.”
“Shower, Father?” replied Diego. “It is coming down so hard that we almost could not see the road home. Fortunately, the horses knew the way.”
Don Alejandro laughed softly as he pointed. “You are dripping all over the floor, my son. Don’t you think you had better go on to your rooms and change into something a little drier?”
Chagrined, Diego bowed slightly to his father and said, “We were just on our way to do just that. With your permission?” Pushing Bernardo on in front of him, they went on to his rooms leaving Don Alejandro chuckling to himself. They dried themselves off and changed. The hard rain lasted about an hour. Diego was not happy. The rain would have made the landscape muddy and now he would have to worry about Tornado leaving a trail that the soldiers could follow when he went out tonight.
Diego had supper with his father and then they retired to the sala where he decided to play the guitar until it was time for Zorro to ride. Don Alejandro was smoking a cigar and reading a book by the fireplace as Diego played. On a particularly difficult piece, one which required all of Diego’s skills, a string broke on the guitar with a discordant twang. For a moment, Diego just looked at it with dismay, holding the loose end of the string in his hand. He would have to wait until the next ship came in from San Diego to get a replacement. He had placed an order a month ago for a whole set of strings, but who knew when they would come, things being as uncertain as they were. With a silent sigh, he said goodnight to his father saying he was going up to his room to read. Bernardo followed him carrying the guitar.
