Chapter Nine - Wedding Day
- Part One -
In the wee small hours of the morning, Sergeant Demetrio Lopez Garcia was awakened in the darkness of the morning by a thudding sound in his wall. He stirred slowly, muttering, “is that you, Corporal?” several times before he finally sat up and looked around into the darkness. Everything was quiet. Then he heard the sound again. “Corporal?” he said again.
He tried to get his bearings. Then he realized it was still dark, but it was the morning of his wedding. He gulped, and then tried to calm himself by thinking good thoughts about the señorita he was about to pledge himself to. Despite his many terrors about holy matrimony, focusing on Clementia was always a help to him. “I...like her, Don Diego,” he had told his friend the previous afternoon. “She is such a....good person. I like being around her better than I like not being around her, and when I go for a long time without being around her I am not a very good person myself.”
Diego laughed and said, “Then you are doing the right thing to marry her, Sergeant. You will be around her a great deal that way.”
Garcia got out of bed and stopped, hearing the thump again. It sounded similar to the sound that had come from the ceiling of the sala that morning. He frowned, wondering if Don Diego and Doña Elizabeth could be up at this hour entertaining one another. Then he realized that his room was across the hall from theirs. Surely even their sounds would not carry across the hallway and through the heavy wooden doors. He stepped towards the door and heard a whooshing sound. Then another thump, which sounded like it came from the door to the privvy. Another whoosh.
“Aiiii,” he said, going for the door. He went out into the dark hallway and looked both ways. All was quiet. He went to Diego and Elizabeth’s door and stood there. Nothing but silence greeted him. Then there was a scuffling sound from his room. He went back in, and saw, to his horror, a veil slithering across the room on the floor. It disappeared out the window before he could grab it.
“Aunt Hortensia!” he muttered. Then he realized that he had not done the thing that Benicio warned him to do, which was walk around the hacienda three times before going to bed. How had he forgotten? Where was Corporal Reyes? he wondered. What should he do? Was it too late to appease the ghost? “Aiii,” he said to himself, looking around again for further signs of the veil. He saw nothing, but heard another whooshing sound from near the window where the veil had disappeared.
He went back into the hallway and stood there looking back and forth. He was still partially dressed, and remembered that Benicio and Diego had accompanied him back to his room upon retiring. He went back to Diego’s door and stood there. Nothing but silence emanated from beyond. They must be asleep, he thought to himself. He lifted his hand to knock, but then stopped. What if they were not asleep? But then, Don Diego was his best man. If he could not turn to Diego, to whom could he turn? He knew he could not approach Clementia, as he was forbidden to see her until she walked down the aisle. He took a deep breath, and knocked.
Diego started, opening his eyes suddenly. Elizabeth, who was spooned in front of him all warm and cozy, shifted slightly but did not wake up. He took a deep breath, adjusting his arms around his sleeping sweetheart. He smiled. He never quite knew how she managed to back into his arms as they slept, but no matter what position they went to sleep in, even if they were not touching, he would often wake up in the early hours with her back snuggled up against his chest and her bottom resting against his lap the way a cat will find the perfect warm spot and claim it without fail.
Then he heard what he realized was the sound that had awakened him, a rather timid knock on the door. He lifted his head, to see that Esperanza was still asleep at their feet. The knock came for a third time, a little louder. Elizabeth stirred. “What is that?” she asked, still half-asleep.
“Someone is at the door,” he whispered, sitting up.
“It isn’t light yet,” she sighed.
“I know. Let me see who it is. Perhaps Bernardo needs me.”
Diego got up and pulled his robe on, shaking his head to wake himself up a little. He went to the door and opened it. There stood Sergeant Garcia in his nightdress.
“Don Diego...” the Sergeant started.
Diego waited. The Sergeant’s mouth was open but he wasn’t managing to form words. “Well, what is it?” Diego asked, neglecting to suppress his annoyance.
“I am sorry to awaken you, but...but....”
“You have also awakened my wife, Sergeant, and for what?” Diego demanded.
Garcia gulped. “Did you hear a strange noise a little while ago?” he asked.
“No, because I was asleep!” Diego answered indignantly. “Now, tell me what you want or...” he waved across the hallway at Garcia’s door, “go back to your room and leave us to our...dreams!”
“Don Diego,” Garcia said pleadingly, “I have heard strange noises and I...I believe they may have to do with a thing I did not do before I fell asleep.”
Diego rolled his eyes. “I told you not to eat so much before you went to bed!” he exclaimed. “You do not listen to me, Sergeant, and now you are waking me up in the middle of the night for help I cannot give!”
“No, no,” Garcia tried to interrupt, “what I mean is that I did not walk around the hacienda three times.”
Diego frowned. “Walk around the...” he shut his eyes, shaking his head, remembering Benicio’s tall tale. He opened his eyes and put his hand on the Sergeant’s shoulder. “I think Benicio was making that up, Sergeant,” he said.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Garcia shook his head. “You see I think she...”
“Diego, is everything all right?” Elizabeth’s voice interrupted them from the darkness.
“Si, darling,” Diego said over his shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
Esperanza began to fuss softly. Elizabeth started to sit up and reach for her, but then realized the Sergeant was standing in her doorway and although it was dark, she did not have anything on. She cleared her throat. Esperanza continued to fuss.
“Just a moment, Sergeant, let me...” Diego said, nudging the Sergeant out into the hall. Reluctantly, Garcia complied, backing up slowly. He looked around nervously while Diego disappeared behind the near-closed door.
Reaching for Esperanza, Diego handed her to his wife.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. She held the baby to her chest. Esperanza began sucking, both of her hands coming to her mother’s breast. “Oh, little baby, you were hungry!” Elizabeth cooed at her softly.
Diego smiled, running a forefinger down Elizabeth’s cheek. “I fear I may have to take a moonlit walk with the Sergeant,” he told her. “Apparently Aunt Hortensia is haunting him tonight.”
“More likely Benicio in a sheet,” Elizabeth sighed, leaning back into the pillows. “Come back soon, darling,” she told him.
“You may count on it,” Diego told her. He leaned down to kiss Esperanza’s head, then returned to the door and closed it in order to attend to the groom.
The air was chilly and damp as the two men made their way slowly around the hacienda walls.
“This is a very strange tradition, Don Diego,” the Sergeant remarked, his eyes scanning the terrain suspiciously.
“Sergeant, can you walk a little faster?” Diego asked, trying to pick up the pace some. He pulled his robe more tightly around him.
“Oh, are you cold, Don Diego?” Garcia asked, continuing to walk slowly.
“Si, I am!” Diego replied. “It is three in the morning and we are in our night shirts!”
“At least you have a robe,” Garcia pointed out. He looked around again. “I hope we do not run into...anyone.”
“I am more worried about running into bandits than ghosts!” Diego replied.
At that moment something seemed to flutter briefly ahead of them on the path. Garcia stopped cold. So did Diego.
“Did you see that?” the Sergeant asked.
“See what?” Diego asked.
“That...flash of white ahead of us?”
“I think I did see something,” Diego answered. He looked around, and up the hacienda walls. Everything was still. They waited. “I think we should continue,” Diego finally said.
They resumed their walk, passing a shed and walking through the gateway to the stables. There they paused in the stableyard, where everything was quiet. Apache whinnied on seeing Diego. Diego went to his horse and stroked his nose. “Not the usual hour, eh, boy?” he asked.
Garcia continued through the stable yard and through the next gate, leading him behind the house. Diego patted his horse again and followed.
“Whoa!” he heard Garcia gasp. He came around the corner in time to find the Sergeant leaning against a wall, his eyes wide.
“What happened?” Diego asked.
“I think I saw Aunt Hortensia,” the Sergeant answered tightly.
“Aunt Hort...” Diego started. He rolled his eyes. “Sergeant, do you not understand that Benicio is pulling some sort of joke on you, and I am indulging in both of you when I could be in a warm bed with my wife?!”
Garcia shook his head, pointing.
Diego looked around and his eyes widened, for there in the mist, fifteen feet beyond them and several feet above the ground in the branches of an apple tree, hovered some sort of apparition. Instinctively Diego reached for his sword, but nothing was there. He looked around on the ground and spied a stick. He reached down and picked it up.
“Do not do anything,” Garcia said, grabbing his arm, his eyes never leaving the apparition.
“Oh, Sergeant, it is a trick!” Diego explained in exasperation.
The apparition wavered and suddenly whipped up into the leaves and out of sight. The Sergeant caught his breath. “I do not think it was a trick, I think it was a ghost!” he said. “And I have not even finished the first circle around the hacienda next!” He looked at Diego. “Do you think it will appear again?”
Diego rolled his eyes, pulling his robe more tightly around his waist. “I imagine it will,” he answered. He stepped up their pace, glancing around and wishing he had kept Zorro’s costume here rather than sending it home with Bernardo.
They continued around the hacienda walls in the darkness in silence, the only sounds coming from their own feet and Sergeant Garcia’s labored breathing. Finally they reached the front gate, their first circuit complete.
“Perhaps nothing more will happen,” the Sergeant suggested.
Then they heard the snap of a branch. Garcia’s eyes widened.
“Come, Sergeant,” Diego said, putting his hand on the Sergeant’s shoulder. “We must continue and see this through. If we walk briskly, we will be finished in no time, it is not that large a hacienda.”
“Quiet!” came a man’s voice from the window above them.
They looked up.
“I think we are under Don Francisco’s window,” Diego whispered.
Garcia nodded, putting his finger to his lips. He did not want to set off his father-in-law to be.
They proceeded a second time around the house, this time without interference from ghostly apparitions. Waving Garcia on, they proceeded for their third round.
“Don Diego?” Garcia whispered loudly as they crossed the stableyard for the third time.
“Si, Sergeant?”
“Do you have anything else...to tell me? About married life?” the Sergeant asked timidly.
Diego paused, and looked at the ground for a moment, thinking. Then he looked at his friend in the darkness. “If you treasure every part of her with every part of yourself, and accept her love in return, you will be very happy together,” he said.
Garcia considered that as they walked. “Every part of her with every part of myself...” he murmured.
As they rounded a corner, Diego saw another flutter of white in the trees. He glanced over to see that Garcia was so lost in his contemplation that he missed it. He looked back into the trees to see the white disappear into a window. He squinted, trying to ascertain whose window it was.
In the several hours before the noon wedding, the women were ensconced in the rear wing of the house with Clementia, while the men, accompanying Sergeant Garcia, made their way into the pueblo where they took up conversation and preparations in the very Tavern where Elizabeth and Diego had spent their miserable first week of married life. Diego, uninterested in re-visiting those memories but very interested in making sure everything was in order at the church, excused himself from the men in order to go on to the mission church. As a caution, however, he instructed Bernardo to stay in the Tavern and let him know if anything went awry. “And keep an eye on the Sergeant,” he advised. “I think he is all right but...cold feet would not be appropriate at this point.”
Bernardo placed himself quietly on the corner of the bar, giving himself a side view of the Sergeant and the other men. The tavern was fairly quiet for a while. Three men came downstairs from the sleeping rooms, apparent guests of the establishment. They were well-dressed and clean, but Bernardo could tell from their manner of speaking that they were not dons from another community. They sounded, he decided, like Mexicans. He watched Benicio carefully, wondering if these were acquaintances of his. At first there was no interaction, the three simply stood at the bar and had drinks while the men in the wedding party continued talking at their table.
Then Benicio arose and made his way to the bar, placing himself between Bernardo and the three strangers.
A friendly conversation developed. Benicio was soon referring to the strangers as his “tres amigos” and was buying drinks for them. Within fifteen minutes, a card game was underway. Benicio effortlessly managed to lure Capitan Vilaro, Don Miguel Cahuenga, Don Alejandro and his own father into the game with the three amigos. Sergeant Garcia swore it off, to Bernardo’s relief, citing that he did not want to lose the one thing he owned, his uniform, in a game on the morning of his wedding. Don Carlos, who was never much for cards, sat it out with the Sergeant and began telling stories about his diplomatic career. This made the Sergeant sigh and begin looking hopefully for a barmaid and a tall bottle.
Bernardo watched all of this develop without giving any hint of interest. However, once the game was underway he knew he had better alert Diego. The wedding was only three hours away and he knew it would not do for the game to become so enthralling or so high stakes that anyone was tempted to continue it rather than be present for the nuptials. Then there was the matter of Don Carlos and the Sergeant, and the bottles of wine sure to appear if Carlos kept up his usual pattern of long-winded tales.
Diego was sitting in Padre Dominic’s office reviewing the wedding documents when Bernardo arrived.
“Ah, is everything all right in the tavern?” he asked his servant.
Bernardo glanced at the Padre and then shook his head slightly. Diego frowned and got up, putting the papers down. “Padre, will you excuse us for a moment?” he asked.
“Certainly, Diego, but do not forget to sort through those last three pages, you know the Sergeant will not have the patience for it.”
“Si,” Diego agreed. He followed Bernardo into the hallway beside the stairs. “What is it?” he asked.
Bernardo pointed in the direction from which he had come.
“The tavern,” Diego nodded. “They’re all still there?”
Bernardo nodded, and held up three fingers.
“Plus three others?”
Bernardo nodded, and made mustaches and beards on his face, and indicated guns in belts.
“Guns? Banditos?” Diego asked.
Bernardo shook his head and then gestured holding a deck of cards and passing cards around.
“Card players?” Diego asked.
Bernardo nodded. Then he indicated tall and made a languid, sleepy face, and held up the three fingers again, pointing at the face.
“Benicio?” Diego said. “You think they know Benicio? Are they Mexicans?”
Bernardo nodded with a guessing gesture. He pointed again, and then made the shape of a table in front of him and walked around, seat after seat, passing imaginary cards.
“He has a card game going with them?!” Diego exclaimed.
Bernardo nodded. He made a stiff face and gestured an officer’s sash, and then made the facial gesture that he used for Don Alejandro.
“Vilaro? And my father!?” Diego exclaimed.
Bernardo nodded.
“Wait here,” Diego said to him. He returned to the padre’s doorway. “Padre, I am sorry, but I must excuse myself for a few minutes. I will be back, we will get all the paperwork taken care of.”
“Fine, Diego,” came the voice from inside the room.
Diego nudged Bernardo and they hurried down the stairs and across the plaza to the Tavern. Just before rushing in, Diego stopped suddenly and looked at his servant. “I suppose you left all of Zorro’s clothes in Los Angeles when you returned his horse,” he said.
Bernardo smiled rather slyly and shook his head.
“You have them here?!” Diego exclaimed.
Bernardo nodded.
Diego laughed. “Once again you may have saved the day, my friend. Or at least saved yourself a very hurried trip to Los Angeles during the wedding!”
In the tavern, they found the men lost in the card game. To Diego’s dismay, he saw that Governor Peña had joined them. He went to his father, trying to be casual.
“Ah, I see you have found a way to spend the morning,” he observed.
His father grunted, clearly lost in studying his hand.
“May I....speak to you for a moment?” Diego said to his father.
“Not in the middle of a hand!” Alejandro snorted.
Don Miguel looked at Diego fiercely. Benicio glanced at him and smiled his slow, easy smile. Governor Peña grunted at Diego and paused to light a cigar.
“You should have come sooner, Diego, you would be in the game,” Benicio said.
Diego waved his hand. “Oh, I am no good at cards!” he said.
“You are always missing at the most interrrrrresting moments, de la Vega,” Vilaro observed, glancing up briefly from his hand.
“Well, you see?” Diego answered. “That is just proof of my bad luck and tells you why I do not play the game!”
“You should try something new once in a while, Diego, it would do you some good,” the Governor observed.
“I got married!” Diego protested. “That was something new!”
“Si,” the Governor agreed, “and you managed to get a wife who doesn’t talk all the time!” He looked at Alejandro and then across the room at Carlos, who was talking to Sergeant Garcia. “I hear you two are starting a bank in Los Angeles,” he said.
Alejandro shrugged. “It is not just Carlos and me, Pedro, it is most of the dons in our community.”
Vilaro shifted in his seat uncomfortably.
Diego stepped back, looking over the three strangers Bernardo had referred to. One of them looked familiar but he could not place the context. They were, he concluded, Mexicans indeed. Then he realized he was hearing a familiar voice across the room. His father-in-law. He looked over to see Sergeant Garcia trying desperately to be interested in Don Carlos’s description of the French court just before the revolution. What the Sergeant was in fact interested in was the near-empty wine bottle on the table. Diego turned to them.
“Sergeant, surely you are not going to compromise your wedding day by sitting here in the Tavern all morning!” he said. “You should come over to the church with me to review your documents and change into your best uniform.”
“But...this IS my best uniform,” Garcia replied, looking down at his jacket.
“Sergeant, I have a surprise for you,” Diego smiled. “I believe if you come with me you will find that Corporal Reyes and the lancers have arranged for a very special uniform for you, for your wedding.”
Garcia’s eyes widened. “A new uniform?” he muttered.
Diego tossed his head in the direction of the door. “Come,” he said. “Oh, but first, I really must speak to my father. Will you excuse us?” he asked Carlos.
Elizabeth’s father nodded his head, giving up on having an audience for a moment.
Diego returned to his own father, tapping him on the shoulder.
“I am almost finished!” Alejandro snapped. Don Miguel folded his hand, which made Alejandro frown and throw his cards on the table face-down. “I know I had you beaten!” he said to his friend. He looked at the three amigos and then got up, following Diego to a private corner.
“What are you doing?” Diego whispered to him. “How can you get into a card game right now!?”
“I had to do something to pass the time!” Alejandro answered indignantly. “Benicio found these three visitors and we had nothing else to do besides listen to Carlos talk....I thought a card game would be infinitely preferable to that!”
“And has anyone won a hand besides them?” Diego asked. “Or Benicio?”
Alejandro frowned. “Vilaro won one...and Pedro won one...but....” he looked at Diego, realizing what was happening.
Diego raised his eyebrows, confirming the thought.
“Ai, it never ends with him!” Alejandro exclaimed, looking over at Benicio.
“I think he and Vilaro are trying to thwart the bank plan among the dons,” Diego said quietly. “It would appear that Governor Peña is in on it as well.”
“They will not succeed at that!” Alejandro growled. “It is not as if we have the money here with us!”
“No, but a serious card game can do a lot of damage,” Diego pointed out. “How much have you and Don Miguel and Don Francisco lost, collectively?”
Alejandro squinted, thinking. Then his eyes widened. “Too much!” he said.
“You see they are very good, very practiced at this,” Diego said softly. “I suggest that you find a way out of the game and get the others out of it as well. We may not have seen the last of these characters today, but at least you can save the rancho for the morning.”
Alejandro glared at his son and then returned to the table. He sized up where the game was and then signed loudly. “You know, I believe I need some air. It is too early in the morning for this. Miguel, Francisco, come with me outside.”
Miguel Cahuenga and Francisco Bocca looked at him, wondering why he would do something as socially inappropriate as disrupt their card game. Having their attention, Alejandro glanced at the table where the pile of money was sitting in front of Benicio and his friends. He looked back at the two dons.
Bocca started, and then put his hand face-down. “Benicio, you are incurable!” he said to his son. He stood up. Miguel joined him, also putting his hand down.
Benicio sighed, putting down his cards. Vilaro slapped down his hand in disgust. Governor Peña sat back in his chair. The three amigos looked at each other.
“This is a good game just started!” said the governor.
“Si, a good game for you!” Francisco Bocca harumphed.
“And your friends!” Miguel Cahuenga added, having ascertained what was going on.
The governor looked at Diego, who was standing innocently by the door. “Diego, this game was going just fine until you showed up!” he observed.
Diego shrugged. “I was simply stopping in to see how everyone was doing,” he said. “I must go back to the church now and take the Sergeant with me. The bride will arrive in less than an hour, you know. Come, now, gentleman, it is a wedding day, not a day for a long card game!”
The dons filed out, followed by Diego and Bernardo. Garcia and Don Carlos went as well, the Sergeant mumbling something about his uniform. Once they were all gone, Vilaro looked around the table. “It would appearrrrrr that we will have to disrrrrrrrrupt the wedding reception!” he said. He looked at the three amigos. “Unless you feel you can collect all the money from the house without being seen!”
Peña groaned. “All the women will be at the reception! This was the perfect place to put them all into a state about their money!” He looked at Vilaro. “You have bungled this royally, Capitan!”
Vilaro looked at Bencio. “I trrrrrrrusted you!” he hissed. “All I have gotten since you arrrrrrived in town is a hard knock on the head! You could not even disable El Zorro when you had the chance! Twice!”
Benicio looked back. “He disappeared for almost two months after I poisoned him,” he pointed out. “You haven’t caused him a scratch.”
Vilaro frowned. “Therrrre is something...” he said, searching his memory. “I....” he shook his head. “My head has not been right...”
“Not for a long time!” the governor snorted. “You came with such high recommendations and I have not been able to get a thing from you since I assigned you to Los Angeles. El Zorro is still on the loose and now we have a private bank in the making!”
“What is it you want us to do?” asked one of the three amigos, aiming his question at Benicio.
Benicio held his hand up, indicating for them simply to wait. “They can go to Rancho Verbena while everyone is at the wedding,” he suggested to the Governor. “Nearly no one will be there then.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, do you really believe the dons will leave their money at the hacienda while they are here! Most of it isn’t here to begin with; it is in Los Angeles in their homes! We might as well admit we have failed and just...go to the wedding!” the governor fumed. He glared at Vilaro. “At least my wife is having a good time this weekend!”
Benicio’s eyes stayed on the door that the dons had just left through, his mind working. He frowned, but kept what occurred to him to himself. “Stay here during the wedding,” he told his amigos. “But, after everyone has left, I will meet you and show you how to get to Rancho Verbena on the back roads.”
“What arrrre you planning?” Vilaro asked. Benicio shrugged.
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