Young Zorro (8 page)

A
LL DAY LONG THE
pueblo had throbbed with music. Guitars, harps, flutes, and drums played vaquero songs, love songs, bandit songs. Little choirs of neighborhood children walked along the streets, singing church hymns in close harmony to earn sweets and coins. Crews of vaqueros, dressed in their finest, showiest clothes, competed with one another in singing. The crowds on front porches and sitting beneath the plaza's trees voted for one crew or another with applause.

Diego and Bernardo were dressed in the new clothes that had caused so much anger. But now they had a pact: these were not clothes, but costumes for a play. They acted in a comedy as master and servant. Anyone who mistook them for an hidalgo and his ignorant ser
vant was a part of the comedy. Anyone they could fool was someone to laugh at later: “Did you see that Spanish soldier bow to me and brush past you without a word?”

Diego played at walking haughtily in front. Bernardo walked behind holding Diego's fine hat like a chalice from the mission church. Bernardo would stumble against a passing soldier so Diego could pretend to be furious. He smacked his clumsy servant in their game of fake blows. Diego punished him so severely that one visiting soldier said, “That's the way to discipline these people!” When the boys walked around the corner, they collapsed in fits of giggling.

They thought these were games they could only play on visitors to the pueblo. But a few local hidalgos believed their game. Worse, they thought it was natural.

The boys sat under the canopy of a blooming pear tree. Diego wondered, “Do those people really think that we could grow up as brothers and just decide to be master and servant?”

Bernardo shook his head.

“Some of them do, though. This is California, not Spain! This hidalgo and peasant thing is unfair.”

Bernardo looked in the direction of the soldier they had fooled.

“Well, we seem to do a good job of deceiving soldiers and the duller hidalgos. Do you think we could have the last laugh on people like that?”

Bernardo thought a few moments. He nodded and put his hand on Diego's shoulder: You bet we could!

And that became part of their pact too.

 

“Now we'll hear some good singing,” Diego said.

Their friend José García stepped out on the porch and adjusted his sash. It had to be a very long sash to get around his big belly. He took a sip of water and began to sing. He had the voice of an angel. He sang an old love song from southern Spain. Everyone had heard it, but García made it new. The lovers in the song, separated by cruel fate, were so sad that tears rolled down many cheeks, and women sighed.

For all his belly, García was popular with the pueblo señoritas for his sweet voice, his manners, and his shy smile.

When he finished, the street broke into applause.

“More! More!” Diego cried, and the crowd took up the cry: “More, García!”

“Sing about the fox and the gray goose!” Diego called, and García beamed at him.

“That I will!” he called to him, and began the song.
The crowd hushed instantly. García started the wily fox on his way to the farmer's barnyard and almost got him to the pen where the ducks and geese were kept.

A big ripe melon dropped from the balcony above. It exploded over García's head with a
whop
!

There was a cruel laugh from above. Diego and Bernardo saw Rafael Moncada disappear through the door to the balcony.

The crowd in the street scattered when the melon splashed. A few laughed, and one old woman seemed angry with García for getting her wet and sticky.

Diego and Bernardo helped him to his feet. He was a bit dazed. “Big melon,” Diego said.

“What?” García said, still confused. He looked down at his wet clothes. He tried to brush the sticky seeds from his best frilled shirt.

They helped García to a fountain. Bernardo disappeared and returned with a borrowed towel. “Wrong song?” García asked.

“No, it was a good song,” Diego said. “You were just an opportunity for Rafael Moncada to show off. He dropped the melon. He's long gone by now.”

Bernardo made the sign for sweet or ripe.

“We're lucky it was a ripe melon,” Diego said. “A green melon that size might have snapped your neck.”

Bernardo nodded at the balcony and made a few signs to Diego.

“Bernardo says something larger than a melon should fall on Moncada's head.”

García laughed shakily.

Diego helped him up and said, “We'll walk over to your house with you,” Diego said, “and we won't walk under any balconies.”

 

After sundown bonfires blazed all around the pueblo. Each bonfire lit its own celebration. Vaqueros danced high-kicking steps to the driving beat of guitars and drums. At other bonfires they danced with señoritas under the suspicious eyes of their
dueñas
, their chaperones. These were stern-faced aunts and grandmothers who would be furious at any displays of budding romance. Many of them would be furious over and over before the fiesta was finished.

Diego and Bernardo wandered from bonfire to bonfire, greeting their friends, celebrating this year's
apartado
with vaqueros and Gabrieleños.

Late in the evening, they rode to the Honorio hacienda for the hidalgos' ball, where Diego was expected to uphold the family's honor on the dreaded dance floor.

“Well, I'll do my best. That's all I can do,” Diego said nervously as they unsaddled their horses outside the hacienda. He brightened up as he whispered to Bernardo, “Ready for the special dance?” Bernardo thumped a big package by his saddle and nodded with a mischievous grin.

 

The dancing scared Diego. He could fall over his own feet in front of his father's friends. He might disgrace the de la Vegas. (“Their son is such a fool!”) His pants would surely split when he bowed. A thousand bad things could happen! The ball loomed like Judgment Day as he walked into the brightly lit courtyard of the hacienda, especially the fandango dance with its elaborate steps. Still, as he passed a large mirror he thought if he covered his large ears, he made a remarkably handsome
Californio
, with tanned skin, white teeth, dark hair, strong cheekbones, fiery eyes. Diego had discovered that he enjoyed wearing fine clothes.

Three things made the evening actually enjoyable.

The best thing happened much later.

The sweetest thing happened immediately: he saw his mother beneath the chandelier, lit by a hundred candles. It's good for a boy to see how beautiful his mother can be. She wore a gown of pale ivory silk that
made her skin glow like a burnished bronze bell. Her thick black hair was done up with combs of turtle shell. A mantilla of delicate white lace lay around her broad, strong shoulders. Diego felt proud to be her son.

The most painful thing happened next. He fell in love. The girl was talking to Regina and Don Alejandro, and for a moment he stopped breathing. How could he breathe, looking at this girl?

Regina saw her son and motioned to him with her fan. He would have been glad if Scar had called on him to ride the drag right now. He couldn't possibly walk directly up to a creature like this and live more than a few seconds. He considered running. He could saddle his horse and make it to White Owl's village by morning. He could live there from now on. This was a fine idea. Instead, he walked to his mother.

She kissed his cheek, but he was unaware of this detail.

Don Alejandro bowed to his own son, and then to the enchanting young woman. He said, “Don Diego de la Vega, I have the pleasure and honor to introduce you to Señorita Esmeralda Luisa Avila, come to us from Mexico City. Señorita Avila is the niece of Don Honorio. Alas, her parents have been taken from us by sickness, and she will now be one of our
Angeleños
, living at the Honorio
hacienda. She is an accomplished…”

The don went on, saying many things, but his voice faded into the buzzing sound in Diego's ears. The sound was caused, apparently, by the exact curve of Señorita Avila's mouth, and perhaps by the painfully perfect shape of her chin.

“Diego!”

“Yes,
Mamá
?” he said, but he was looking at Esmeralda Avila.

“I asked if we might have the pleasure of watching you two dance.”

“I would sooner be eaten by ants,” Diego meant to say, but what came out was, “With delight, if the señorita will endure my stone-footed attempts.”

Don Alejandro beamed. Regina bowed. Esmeralda fluttered her black lace fan. Diego remembered to raise his left hand so Señorita Esmeralda could place her hand on his arm and be led to the floor.

The orchestra leader announced the paseo. Diego ran through the dances he had learned at home and was sure he had never heard of this one. But the ladies formed a circle in the center, the gentlemen another circle outside. A dim picture of the geometry came back to Diego. He bowed, his pants didn't split, and the music began. At that instant he noticed the face of the
young hidalgo beside him: the tightness, the quivering lips. He saw the same painful fear he felt.
Are we all full of panic?
he asked himself, but the dance had started.

And once again it was a game. Once again—perhaps because the perfect face of Esmeralda reappeared as the dancers' circles revolved and met—it was fun. He discovered that being naturally athletic helped.

The dance ended. Against all expectation, Diego was sorry. His face was red and eager. He wanted to reach for Esmeralda's hand and linger on the dance floor. Instead, he hid his happiness and held out his arm to lead her back to the crowd.

They walked a few paces. She looked at him with expectation. Diego realized with a start that he was expected to say something.
What?
he said to himself.
I don't know what to say! This is the trouble with having a brother who doesn't speak!

Diego shouted to his brain,
Say something…good!

“You…,” he began, and she looked more carefully at him, waiting. “You dance like a crane.”

She blossomed into laughter, high and delicate. Her fan hid her smile for a moment. “Are you telling me, Don Diego, that I dance like a long-legged bird?” She laughed again.

“No, no! I mean, yes! You do. But have you ever seen
cranes dance? Have you seen them dance for each other in the spring on the marshes? It's beautiful. Marvelous. They lack only the music.”

She thought a moment. “No, Don Diego, I have never seen cranes dance. Until I do, I will presume that I have received a compliment.”

At this moment Diego's worst fears came true. He tripped over his own feet and fell onto the floor like a sack of corncobs.

On the floor Diego noticed an embroidered boot being quickly withdrawn. He hadn't tripped over his own feet, but over the cleverly placed foot of Rafael Moncada.

D
IEGO WAS TOO MUCH
of an athlete to hurt himself in a little fall. But his ribs ached from a pocket full of almonds he had stashed there for the ride to the hacienda. There was startled silence. He had to recover some shred of dignity! He had one of his sudden ideas.

He rolled onto his back and in the same movement threw his legs in a tuck toward his head. On his roll he hid a handful of almonds in his palm. With the rolling momentum he landed on his boots and bobbed up like a comical child's toy. There were a few titters of surprise. But he didn't stop there.

Whipping out his silk kerchief, he bent over Rafael Moncada's fancy boot. “Rafael! How stupid, how clumsy, how inexcusably rude I've been! I stepped on
your boot, poor thing!” He whacked at the fancy boot as if it had all the trail dust of the drag on it.

“Stop that!” Rafael said testily.

“Let me assure myself that it isn't scuffed or torn!” Diego looked up with a particularly sweet smile and said, “I think it will still hold your foot.”

Rafael began to sputter, but Diego said, “And every wind blows a little good. See? I've retrieved your nut where you dropped it when I cruelly injured you.” He held up the almond. “But it's too soiled for a fine hidalgo.” He popped it into his mouth. “Delicious,” he said. “I compliment you.”

“I wasn't eating nuts!”

“But of course you were, my dear Rafael! See?” He reached to Rafael's coat lapel and seemed to pluck an almond from behind it. It was White Owl's simple trick again.

“Dear Rafael,” he said, “they are tasty. But has your grandmother never told you ‘Don't put nuts in your ears'?” He plucked a nut from Rafael's left ear, then his right ear, and popped both in his mouth.

“Mm! Even more serious: never, never put nuts in your nose!” He plucked an almond from Rafael's nose and was about to pop it into his mouth but made a little face and said, “Excuse me, but I don't
think I'll eat this one.”

Everyone around them was laughing. Esmeralda's laugh was especially delightful to Diego.

Rafael was seething with anger. “Shut up, fool! You have no right to shame the house of Moncada!” Rafael had a tendency to spit a little when he was shouting. It was not a pretty thing.

Diego put his hand to his head in a show of distress. “No! I've stepped on you and now I've shamed you! How can I bear the grief?”

More laughter from the circle of guests. This made Rafael even angrier. He spluttered before shouting at Diego, “Insolent puppy! Clown! Play your tricks on Indians in the hills and pay some respect to your betters!”

Diego looked around him with a worried expression. “My betters? My betters? If I can find them, I'll certainly do my best.” More laughter.

Rafael was now so angry that he couldn't control himself. “You'll find out soon enough, you stinking peasant. The Moncadas will rule their own kingdom without half-breeds like you in their way! The day is coming when—”

Don Miguel Moncada's hand came down hard on his son's shoulder. “Rafael!” he boomed in his most
charming voice. “You are overexcited, my boy. Contain yourself.” The room had gone silent.

Diego's eyes were sharp on Rafael's face. What had he said about a kingdom?

“This filthy Indian…,” Rafael hissed, though his father's hand was tight on his shoulder.

One of the many extraordinary things about Don Alejandro was that his soft, pleasing voice could cut through a crowd with enormous authority. “Rafael,” he said, not loudly, but in the hush it sounded like a trumpet. He came to the edge of the circle. “Rafael, perhaps you will explain yourself.”

Señor Moncada's white-knuckled hand turned the reluctant Rafael toward Don Alejandro. The hand shook him slightly, and the boy blurted, “I meant nothing by it.”

“I grant you, young Moncada, that my foolish son is often filthy.” The don looked about to the guests and said, “Young boys are generally filthy creatures. It is their nature.” A few laughed nervously, and he continued to Rafael, “But you may wish to explain how his Indian blood and your”—a small smile came to his lips—“more refined blood affect us here in this room. Many of our families take pride in their connection to those who lived here before us.”

He raised his hand and brought Doña Regina up beside him. She made a graceful curtsy, surely the most beautiful woman in the room. Her expression was mocking, confident—a strong woman who placed herself second to no one.

Rafael opened and closed his mouth. His father's hand tightened even more on his shoulder. “I meant nothing at all….”

“I'm sure you did not,” Don Alejandro said, “for a true gentleman would never give such an insult. I'm sure you have an interesting view about what you've said. Perhaps we can discuss it another time, in another place.” These were dangerous, pointed words to Rafael Moncada. He stood on the polite but sharp edge of a duel, and no one in the pueblo was foolish enough to cross swords with Don Alejandro.

“I beg your pardon, Señor. I have offended you without meaning to.”

Don Alejandro bowed his acceptance of this apology.

Rafael then bowed to the circle of hidalgos and rushed away. He headed toward a side room where the coats were hung.

 

Rafael was still shaking with rage and relief. He had been humiliated. If Don Alejandro had insisted on a
duel, he would have been close to death. He walked on rubbery legs toward the cloakroom, happy to have some simple thing to do. His anger was just beginning to surface again. He seized the wrought iron handle of the door and tore it open to get—

A grizzly bear! Huge! Fur bristling, teeth like daggers, shaking and letting go a terrible roar!

Rafael spun and ran back into the courtyard. “Aaaaaah!” he shrieked. “Help! Help! Bear! Big! Help!” He could hear the bear's awful feet pattering on the stones behind him. He had one object, the fig tree in the center of the courtyard. The guests parted like curtains. He was almost there!

He caught the toe of his embroidered boot on a stone's edge and fell forward!

The bear roared again.

Rafael couldn't waste the time to leap up. He ran toward the tree on his hands and knees, like his aunt's lap dog rushing toward a meal.

Roar!

Rafael Moncada swarmed up the fig tree like a squirrel, up into the topmost branches, hooting all the way and calling, “Help! Help!”

Why didn't anyone help him? Why were they laughing? Why was the orchestra starting again?

He looked back down for the first time. There was something strange about the bear. Its back legs were white. Its front legs had buttoned seams. It was dancing!

One, two, three, kick to the side! One, two, three, kick to the other side!

Under the tanned bearskin, Diego and Bernardo were dancing a children's dance to an old country tune. They danced around the tree to the enormous laughter of the crowd.

There was applause; glasses were lifted to them.

“That Moncada boy must have been in on the joke. Look at him up there, pretending to be frightened. No one could shriek like that and mean it.”

One, two, three, kick! One, two, three, kick!

To the crowd's applause, Diego and Bernardo danced out of the courtyard, waving their floppy bearskin arms behind them.

 

Like any good ball, the celebration lasted all night. Diego returned to dance with Esmeralda, his mother, and many others. Bernardo returned to thank the orchestra leader and to play his flute. Don Alejandro was a grand figure on the dance floor. Big gatherings were not Regina's favorite events, but she endured
them with a grace and dignity that some hidalgos interpreted as aloofness. Rafael Moncada returned, pretending to be part of the joke, but he retired early.

In the gray first light, the de la Vegas and their vaquero escort rode north and west toward their hacienda.

Diego and Bernardo were happily tired, riding behind, letting their horses follow the others, almost dozing at times.

Don Alejandro reined his stallion and fell back with them. They rode a mile or so in companionable silence before he said to Diego, “Do you remember being bitten by a rattlesnake?”

Both boys immediately crossed themselves. “
Sí
,
Papá
. It was horrible!”

“How did you get the rattlesnake to bite you?”

“The rattler doesn't want to bite,” Diego said. “But if you put it in a corner and force it to fight, it will use its fangs.” He shuddered a little, remembering the pain and fever he had endured at the end of his vision quest. He came close to dying in the forest, but was saved by Bernardo.

The don nodded. “Never corner a rattlesnake. With men, try to leave even the most offensive man a way to escape with some honor. Corner a man and deny him
his honor, and he'll bite.”

Bernardo nodded and looked back toward the Honorio hacienda.

“That's right, Bernardo. You boys have made a serious enemy. He's now more than annoying. He'll do anything to hurt you. Don Miguel Moncada is a man of touchy honor as well. He may see your prank as an attack on his name. You denied Rafael a way to retreat with honor.”

“But—” Diego began.

Don Alejandro held up his hand. “I'm not saying he didn't deserve to be knocked down a bit. He's a nasty bit of business, young Moncada. And I'm not saying that either of you would hold a grudge if someone played the same trick on you. I know you both too well: you'd be angry, and then you'd laugh your heads off.”

The boys smiled.

“But the Moncadas have a thorn in their thumb about something. Perhaps something to do with the mother and her…circumstances.”

“I thought she had died,” Diego said.

Don Alejandro shook his head no. The boys looked interested, but the don was not going to gossip for them.

“Whatever the reason, they will go to greater lengths to ensure their honor than others might. Who knows? Perhaps I am wrong. But I want my boys to keep themselves safe. Beware, yes?”

“
Sí
,
Papá
,” Diego said, and Bernardo nodded.

“This may be of no consequence. Rafael travels to Barcelona this year for his schooling. He may not survive the experience. There are many honor-crazy young blades there, and they back it up with steel. If he matures, he may come back to us a changed man. God bless him.”

They crossed themselves and rode on in the first flash of the morning sun over the mountains.