Chapter Nine - The Moonlight Garden
Alejandro joined Diego for the ride into the pueblo, sharing his son’s curiosity about Consuelo’s fate after being retrieved from the Maria Cruz. It was on this journey that he confessed his overwhelming guilt about letting his son ride away with a concussion, as well as the trick he and Bernardo had played. Diego was touched by his father’s obvious remorse, and held nothing against him. By now he understood how opposed they all were to his decision.
"Where is Bernardo?" he asked, trying to change the subject.
"I don’t know," Alejandro answered, suddenly puzzled. "Elizabeth sent him to that curandera’s house to get the clothes you left there..."
"Si, I told her to do that..."
"And I have not seen him since. He should have been back some time ago. How long can it take to retrieve a bag of clothing?"
Diego shrugged. "Perhaps he was there and we missed him."
As they approached the pueblo, they saw that the gates to the cuartel were open. The lancers were back.
"It will be interesting to see who is in the jail," Alejandro said as they rode towards the open gate. Garcia strolled out, and saw them coming.
"Don Alejandro, Don Diego!" he greeted them.
"Sergeant, you are home," Diego said, dismounting and walking to his friend. Alejandro joined them.
"Tell us what happened in San Pedro," Alejandro said. Peering around he could not tell that anyone other than the usual set of loiterers were in the cuartel jail.
"I will, but first I must ask, Don Diego, if you are all right?"
"Si, Sergeant, why do you ask?"
Garcia looked at Alejandro, and then at Diego again. "Why, because Señor Zorro appeared in San Pedro this morning with Señora Elizabeth, who had been looking for you!"
"Ah!" Diego said. "Yes, she told me she saw him this morning. There was quite a mix-up, you see. She and my father thought I was in San Pedro, but I was here all along!"
Garcia nodded. "And you did not see Señor Zorro?" he asked.
"No, of course not. How could I, if I was here and he was there?" Diego asked.
"That is a good point," Garcia agreed. "I will tell the two of you, I was very happy to see him, even though I should have tried to arrest him. It made me hope he will not return to Monterey forever."
"How does everyone know he has moved to Monterey?" Diego asked.
"Well, except for his appearance this morning he is never here. So he must be there!" Garcia said. "Everyone knows he likes Monterey. Besides, he told me he was only here temporarily. That was his word. ‘Temporarily.’"
"Ah," Diego nodded.
"Sergeant, what happened?" Alejandro asked again. "Did you find Consuelo Perez and return her to her uncle?"
"Father," Diego interceded, "perhaps we should invite the Sergeant to the Tavern to tell us his tale. I have a feeling it may be a long one."
"Ah, Don Diego...." Garcia began gratefully.
Alejandro nodded and waved them towards the Tavern. Once they were there they sat at a table and he ordered wine. Garcia began his tale of excitement and disaster on the Maria Cruz.
"All twenty thousand to the bottom of the sea?" Alejandro said, when the story was nearly at its end. "I could not tell from where I was watching on shore if perhaps you had saved some of the money from this fate."
"Si," Garcia said sadly. "All twenty thousand. We watched them hit the water and sink. One, by one, by one. It was a terrible thing."
"And did the Capitan throw Consuelo overboard after Zorro left?" Diego asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.
"He nearly did, but we restrained him. We brought her back with us and took her to Don Francisco."
Alejandro winced.
"Si," Garcia said. "She will be washing dishes at the Bocca hacienda for many years, I fear. Dona Leonora was quite put out, between the pesos and discovering that Consuelo is still..." he gulped. "Unmarried."
"I think you managed to dodge a bullet there, Sergeant," Alejandro observed.
"Oh, si," Garcia said. Then he smiled. "And Señorita Clementia, she was very kind to me."
Diego perked up at seeing the look on the Sergeant’s face. "Clementia, eh?" he said, his eyebrows rising. "Perhaps you let yourself become enamored of the wrong cousin, Sergeant?"
Garcia smiled sheepishly, nearly blushing. "Perhaps, Don Diego." He took his last drink of wine from the glass and looked about. "I believe I must go on a long patrol now," he said. "Since Señor Zorro has returned, we may want to be a little more vigilant. At least that is what they will ask me...if they ever come to see me again. The army..." he shook his head.
"You are a fine acting commandante, Sergeant," Alejandro said.
"And I do not think Señor Zorro will cause you more trouble," Diego assured him. "Perhaps he is already on his way back to Monterey."
"I still wonder how he knew where the Señorita was," Garcia mused. He looked at the two of them. "He knows many things, that Zorro," he said. With that, he rose and excused himself, leaving them sitting at the table.
"That is uncharacteristic," Diego observed. "He didn’t stay here, he didn’t order another drink. He wants to go on patrol? What has gotten into him?"
"Perhaps he wants to go on patrol in the neighborhood of the Bocca rancho," Alejandro smiled.
Diego laughed, nodding, and poured his father another glass of wine. It was not long thereafter that Diego excused himself, saying he needed to ride home and do some thinking along the way. Alejandro raised his glass to his son and said, "You cannot disappoint me, Diego. But I am not the person you must consider."
Diego rode home slowly, turning everything over in his mind. At the point in the road where he should go towards the main entrance to the rancho, he veered instead to the left. It was the path that led to the entrance to the box canyon, beyond which was Tornado’s cave.
After her siesta, Elizabeth arose to a quiet, empty house except for a few servants. She decided to take a long walk, by the duck pond east of the house. Then she made her way around to the west and strolled slowly through her garden.
How can so much have happened in only ten months? she asked herself. How can it be that a year ago I was on a ship from Boston, traveling around Cape Horn on waves the size of mountains with my father and a few trunks? How can it be that a year later I am married to the finest man in California and carry his child inside me? She thought about all that had happened. Falling in love with El Zorro. The arranged marriage. How disastrous it all had seemed. The stunning moment when he revealed himself at the little mountain cabin. The magic that followed. The trip to Monterey, the kidnaps, the near-rape, and then those soft, grey mornings holding his hand and walking with him on wet sand. This little baby doing her tiny somersaults deep inside. I am going to be a mother, she thought.
She thought of her own mother. As she did so many times, she looked to the skies and asked for Catherine Sullivan Matteo’s wisdom. Oh, Mommie, she thought, how can it be? You were right when you told me to trust him. But now...he is giving up some part of himself for me...for us...that I cannot accept. Yet I must accept it. It is his decision. He is right about it. And yet he is wrong...and she found herself on the verge of tears as she headed slowly towards the stable. Diego, oh Diego. El Zorro. Zorro.
He would tell me it is all the same, Mommie. But it isn’t. Tears welled up into her eyes, thinking about how he had looked, lying there on the curandera’s bed. Riding away on the great black horse, his cape fluttering behind him.
"Oh, my," she said aloud, covering her mouth with her hand to prevent a sob from coming out. "Living with you is so hard, but how can I live without you?"
It was twilight.
He found her in the stable beside Blanca’s stall, weeping. He stood there in the doorway for a moment, watching her as she sat on a hay bale with her head in her hands, her beautiful hair falling around her face. He wanted to run to her, pull her into his arms, comfort her. Instead, he approached slowly, so silently that she didn’t hear him.
"Señora," he said gently.
She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. El Zorro stood before her.
"Oh," she said softly. She put her hand over her mouth to stiffle a sob. "I suppose you have come to say a last goodbye to me."
He only smiled at her, offering his gloved hand. She looked at it, and then up into his hazel eyes behind the mask. Despite the tears, he could see the beautiful sea in hers. He made a summoning gesture with his fingers. She reached up and took his hand. He led her quietly through the stable yard and out to her garden plot at the foot of the grassy hill. Tornado followed them at a distance. El Zorro stopped, still holding on to her hand. Half a dozen low bushes were at their feet, planted that morning.
"They are gardenias," Elizabeth said, her eyes down on the plants. "I have decided to make this a moonlight garden."
"Moonlight garden?" El Zorro said, pulling his glove off and lifting her chin with his finger so that she looked at him.
She blinked, the tears still coming. He put his arm around her and she pressed her cheek against the silky black shirt he wore. "All white flowers," she tried to say.
"I have never heard of that," he said, putting his lips in her hair. "It sounds very beautiful." He felt another sob well up in her chest, making her shake. He put his arms around her completely, pulling her against him. He began to sway slowly as he held her.
"I cannot possibly say goodbye to you," she said softly, moving with him.
"You do not have to, Señora," he said. "I will always watch over you. Did I not promise you that once?"
"Si," she said. "You did."
"I meant it then and I mean it now."
"But how can you watch over me if you do not exist?" she asked.
"Sweet Liz," he whispered in her ear. "How can El Zorro leave his beloved, and his little fox-kitten?"
"He can’t," she said mournfully.
"That is right," he said. "He can’t." He kissed her head gently.
She raised her face to look into his. "The people," she said. "They need El Zorro too...not just a memory of him, not just a legend."
He nodded at her, a half-smile forming on his lips.
She stopped, staring up at him.
"No matter what we choose, my love, danger lies ahead," he told her. "Danger for us all. But I have gone on a long ride tonight. Perhaps that hit on the head did me some good, in the end." He hugged her against him, pressing her head into his shoulder. "If are truly ready to continue with El Zorro in your heart...." he smiled a little wider, "and in the secret passages in your house...and in the pueblo and across the arroyos..." he smiled more broadly still, his face lowering to hers, "...he will not resist your will. He never could, Señora."
"Are you...saying you will continue?" she asked him, the tears still in her voice.
He nodded. "Si. Unless the day comes when you say to me, ‘No more.’" He laughed softly. "Or until the day when Señor Zorro is no longer needed. Whichever comes first!"
Her arms came up around his neck and they kissed deeply. "I am yours forever," she said.
"And I am yours, Señora, until the end of time," he said. With that El Zorro kissed his beloved in her new moonlight garden yet again. She kissed him back, her tears springing up anew.
On the hilltop above Elizabeth’s garden and the de la Vega hacienda, where the live oaks grove stood, Sergeant Demetrio Lopez Garcia sat on his big brown horse staring down at this scene with El Zorro and Senora de la Vega. His mouth was wide open. He could not hear what they were saying, but he could see what they were doing. He had come into the night for some air, to ponder his newly discovered feelings for Clementia. He liked this spot above the de la Vega place, it provided such a pleasant vista, for watching the sunset. Little had he expected, as the twilight set in, to witness Zorro himself leading Don Diego’s wife out of the stable and into the little garden the Señora appeared to be planting. At first he simply could not believe his eyes, and had kept rubbing them thinking that at last he had drunk one too many glasses of wine. But as the scene unfolded, Garcia realized what was happening.
It is all true, he kept thinking to himself. However, and whyever, she did it, Don Diego’s wife was El Zorro’s consort. And the baby....Garcia saw the way the bandito held the Señora. There could be no doubt. The baby was his, and El Zorro knew it.
Now, Garcia watched Zorro lift the pretty Señora up into his arms and carry her to his tall black horse in the shadows. Garcia knew he should hurry down the hill and arrest the bandit. He knew that poor Don Diego was back at the Tavern unaware of the famous visitor at Rancho de la Vega. He knew that if he interceded, he could be responsible for exposing everything and breaking Don Diego’s heart. He knew that if he did nothing, he became a conspirator in the hidden life of Elizabeth de la Vega, and a keeper of the secret of Zorro. Yet as he watched El Zorro gently put the Señora on his horse and then climb up to sit behind her, Sergeant Garcia could not bring himself to do his duty and make his arrest. Whether Don Diego really knew or not was not his business. He vowed, then and there, never again to speak of any of it to his friend or to anyone else. What he could see, undeniably and from many yards away, was the open passion and deep devotion between the Señora and El Zorro. The marriage to Don Diego had, after all, been arranged. And who could say what was at the heart of any marriage?
In a world where one is "always choosing between hard choices," as the Sergeant liked to say, he felt he somehow owed this to El Zorro. Don Diego was his friend, of course, and always would be. But Zorro had bailed the Sergeant out more times than he could count. It was also well known that the Fox had devoted himself to Elizabeth Matteo before the marriage to Don Diego had been arranged. Perhaps, the Sergeant speculated, the rescue from Diablo and their day at the little mountain cabin last September had simply presented an opportunity that neither the Señora nor the Fox could resist. He sighed. In some matters, even the magnificent El Zorro was only a man.
Garcia watched as they disappeared down the road. He nudged his horse’s sides with his heels, leaning the reins against the gelding’s neck to steer him in the direction of Rancho Bocca. He suddenly looked forward to seeing Clementia.
The months that followed were merciful in their quiet. To the amusement of everyone in the pueblo, Sergeant Garcia began a delicate courtship of Clementia Bocca. Consuelo lurked in various corners and tried several times, unsuccessfully, to sneak off. The Sergeant’s girth began to shrink a little, and he was seen more frequently with a clean shave. Clementia was proving to be of good influence.
The rains came and went. On the mornings after they blew over Diego would take Elizabeth on slow rides along the road, where they would breath in the clean, cool air and gaze at the snow-capped mountains towering to the north and east of the pueblo. Elizabeth’s night terrors subsided entirely. As Elena had promised, her belly grew. The baby began to move and kick with more and more vigor, causing the couple to laugh uproariously at times. Late at night after they retired Diego would sometimes let his cigar burn out and then place it on Elizabeth’s belly until the baby’s movement knocked it off. Once in a while he would produce Zorro’s hat and leave it on Elizabeth’s stomach until the baby made it shake. They swore up and down that it had to be Zorro’s child because the hat fit so well.
The rumors that Zorro had moved to Monterey persisted, though no one could quite pinpoint where they came from. Reports of his appearances there, on moonlit nights, would occasionally filter down the Camino Real. It was of course coincidence that the de la Vega servant, Bernardo, was on errands to the capital at just the time El Zorro’s appearances in central California were reported.
As the winter passed, the young de la Vegas comforted one another, walked the ranch together, anticipated the new life to come, bickered cheerfully over possible names, and kept tenderly to themselves. Diego began to believe that, having decided to keep El Zorro, his wish for the diminished necessity of his alter ego was finally coming true. This was a welcome thought as he watched Elizabeth’s changing shape testify to the growth and looming arrival of their baby.
Ever cautious, however, he increased his time spent in the pueblo as the early California spring began, listening for what was stirring up in the countryside and among the soldiers. His experience told him that springtime usually inspired new activities and injustices among the people, which in turn summoned up the need for Zorro. It was in mid-April, as Elizabeth approached the final month of her pregnancy, that events transpired which guaranteed that his respite from El Zorro was at an end.
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