ANGELS IN THE NICK OF TIME
(A NW Zorro-Touched By an Angel Crossover)
"What are we doing here?" Monica scanned the vast expanse of California desert. "And where’s ‘here’?" She furrowed her brows in puzzlement. Her luxurious brownish-auburn hair flowed down past her shoulders, and gleaming gold earrings dangled from her earlobes.
"California." Tess gazed at the Irish-tongued angel, who in turn looked at Andrew, Rafael, and Gloria, all of whom stood in a row at the crest of a hill. Monica then turned back to her supervisor. "But we’re not in 2001 anymore," Tess went on. "The Father has sent us back in time to the early 1820s."
Monica’s mouth dropped open. "Back to the early 19th century? But why?"
"Because, Miss Wings, that is where God wants us to be." Tess’s no-nonsense tone quieted Monica. Her own earrings swung from side to side as Tess nodded for emphasis.
Gloria stared at the heavy, black angel. "Back in time?" Tess nodded. "But how? Time can only move forward; it can never move backward."
Tess nodded. "You’re right, Gloria. It can’t. But God is the Lord of time; He created it, don’t forget." She paused. "He wants us to assist an angel who’s been assigned to help a young boy who’s in deep trouble."
"What young boy is that?" Furrowing her eyebrows, Gloria pushed her glasses against her eyebrows.
"That one." Tess swiveled her head behind her and nodded downward.
Turning around, Monica saw a teenage boy, wearing the homespun, unbleached cotton shirt and trousers, woolen sash, and the woven leather sandals of a Mexican peasant. The boy had brown hair, she noticed, and handsome features. His brown eyes oozed misery. Beads of sweat rolled down his face. Silently, the boy fingered several strands of the pinto’s mane.
"His name is Felipe," Tess explained. "His parents were killed in a revolution in Mexico when he was only seven. He can’t speak, and for six years after he had lost his parents, he couldn‘t hear, either. He pretends he still can’t. Only one man knows that he can."
"He’s an appealing boy," Monica said softly. "Why is he so sad?"
"Because the men he works for have been paying little attention to him in recent weeks." Sorrow filled Tess’s voice as she spoke. "Caballeros, as they’re called here, wealthy landed aristocrats--their names are Alejandro de la Vega and his son, Diego. They’ve been so preoccupied with their own affairs, lately, that they have little time or energy for him. And now he’s depressed and wondering if he fits in anywhere. We‘ve got to act fast, Angel Girl, if we’re going to help him; there’s much at stake." Tess wagged her finger as she spoke.
Andrew nodded. Worry welled up in his expressive eyes. "Tess is right. If we fail, this upcoming Christmas season is going to be ruined for the de la Vegas, and their holiday spirit will be changed from festivity to mourning."
Monica froze, as the implications of what Andrew had just said sank in. "You mean, you may have to--?" Andrew nodded again, biting his lower lip.
Tess pressed her lips into a tight line. "He doesn’t know it, yet, but he is in terrible danger." Monica gaped down at the boy in shock. "Christmas Day is just a few days away, so we don’t have long to act."
"No, we don’t." Another angel, wearing the suit of an early 19th-century caballero, joined them. "The Father sent me to help that boy’s master, last Christmas, because Diego de la Vega was questioning whether he was doing any good to the people he had sworn to help. It is on behalf of his patrón’s cause that Felipe pretends he is still deaf."
"His patrón?" Gloria tilted her head quizzically.
"His master," Monica explained. "His boss."
"Correct. In his case, though, Diego de la Vega is more like Felipe's father than his master." Sadness filled elegantly-clad angel’s eyes. "And not only is Felipe’s life at stake, but so is my work. It seems I failed to do my most recent assignment the way I was supposed to, and now the Angel of Angels is seriously thinking about suspending me. He promises to reconsider my punishment if I help that boy, there." Fernando inserted the fingers of his right hand into his right vest pocket and shook his head. "Unfortunately, the job is too big for me to do alone." With a sigh, the angel glanced down at his glistening white tailcoat.
"Don’t worry, Fernando," Tess assured him. "The Father has sent us here to help you." She looked at Monica, then at the Hispanic angel, Rafael. "You remember Rafael, I know. And Monica; when we lived in this era the first time, she was in Annunciations, as you recall. And Andrew, here, was a caseworker." Fernando smiled his welcome to each angel. Tess smiled. "Well, Monica has since worked in Search and Rescue. Now--in our time--she’s a caseworker, and Andrew’s an Angel of Death. Gloria, here, wasn’t created until 2001, so this is her first visit to this time period."
Fernando dipped his head. "Welcome, Gloria." Gloria smiled back. Fernando paused, and sorrow welled up in his eyes. "I need not ask what Andrew’s job will be, if we fail." The other angels nodded agreement.
Gloria looked from Fernando to Tess. "This--this Diego was questioning the good he'd done?" Fernando nodded. "That sounds a lot like our most recent Christmas assignment--Dave Price."
"It certainly was," Tess agreed. "Dave left teaching, thinking he'd had no real impact in the lives of his students. And from what Fernando says, Diego thought the same thing, last Christmas."
"He did." Fernando nodded. "And he was just as depressed, then, as Felipe is, now." He fixed his gaze on the boy, sadness welling in his eyes.
Felipe had no idea that five angels, invisible to human eyes, were watching him, or that the eyes of a bandido were monitoring him from a distant hill. A cool breeze arose, caressing his face. As the morose servant boy mounted his pinto and trotted off, the bandit crept toward the camp of his leader, yards from that hilltop.
"Why didn’t you let me grab him right now, Jorge?" he hissed. "He was all alone."
Jorge nodded. "Sí, but we’re near the El Camino Real, and the soldiers are on maneuvers; the risk of bein’ spotted is too great. We’re here to plan, not act." He spit a wad of tobacco on the campfire and scowled. "Don’t worry; we’ll get him, soon as we set up camp at the cave. We must." He glowered fiercely at the horizon. "That stupid boy made me lose thousands of pesos and made me spend years in jail, too. He’s goin’ to pay for that--with his life! If I could get my hands on Zorro, I’d make him pay, too!" He clenched his fists. "Maybe one day." He patted the knife that dangled in its scabbard and glanced down at his pistol.
The third bandido nodded agreement. "That same boy cost us, too. Our leader was goin’ to kill the alcalde and we was goin’ to loot the pueblo. That cursed boy saw us, and we took him hostage. If someone--Zorro, I suspect--hadn’t found him, we would have gotten away with it, in spite of him seein’ us! Instead, we went to prison." He snapped a twig in two. "When will we go after the boy?"
"Now." Jorge leaned against the boulder. "You go to the camp and set things up, and I’ll go to the de la Vega hacienda. Got the ropes and handkerchiefs ready?" They nodded. "Good. I’ll be at the cave soon. With the boy." He rose to his feet, mounted his horse, and left. The clop-clop! of hooves faded into silence.
ZZZZZZ
An hour later, at the de la Vega hacienda, Felipe gazed out the library window for a long moment. As he gazed at the cloudless sky, a snow-white dove flew overhead, cooing softly.
It’s been weeks and weeks since Don Diego and I really talked or did anything together, he thought, scratching his rough cotton shirt. All he does anymore is tell me what to do. He never has time to listen to me when I need him to. He never talks to me, either.
Always before, Don Diego had been there for Felipe when the boy needed him. And when Diego was feeling low about something, he usually either opened up to Felipe or tried to shield him. Not this time. For weeks now, Diego had neither spent any time with him nor opened up to Felipe about his feelings. Diego scarcely ever even smiled anymore.
Felipe sighed. It’s not like him. He’s usually there when I need him. Why is he being like this? He glanced at the fireplace. I ought to groom Toronado; I will, soon. But for what? Zorro hasn’t ridden much since the alcalde died at the Devil’s Fortress.
Sighing, the servant boy turned around and leaned against the Moorish arch separating the library from the entryway. Guadalupe Day had been celebrated the day before; that morning, the household had decorated the hacienda. They had attached pine cones to wide red satin ribbons, and tied other satin ribbons into bows. They lashed evergreen branches into clusters, then made ropes by affixing the clusters to long strings. Soon, a tree would be set up in the entryway, to be decorated on Christmas Eve.
The decorations now adorned the walls, doors, Moorish arches, and ceiling, but the sight of them aroused no joy in Felipe’s heart. Try as he did, Felipe could muster no excitement about the festive atmosphere.
The pounding of the knocker startled him; Don Alejandro entered the room and nodded toward Felipe to answer the door. Felipe trudged toward the polished mahogany door and swung it open. A plump black woman and a slender young woman with brownish-auburn hair stood on the porch. Both wore peasant outfits and shiny gold earrings. Felipe stood aside to let them in; the younger woman smiled at him as she passed.
"Hola, señor. You are Don Alejandro de la Vega?" the young woman asked the aged don, who nodded.
"Buenos tardes, señoritas. You must be the new servants my son, Diego, hired, today," Don Alejandro said.
"Sí. I’m Monica; I’m your new parlor maid." The young woman spoke in a soft voice and an unfamiliar accent.
"And I’m Tess. I’m here to substitute for your cook while she recovers," the black woman said. "Don Diego told me she was ill."
With a sigh, Don Alejandro folded his arms across his chest. "Yes, she is, but the doctor assures me she will be well within a week. Meanwhile, though, with Christmas coming up, we are in desperate need of a cook." He paused. "Just five minutes ago, I hired a new vaquero as well. A young man named Rafael. He tells me he knows you two."
"Sí," Monica said. "He does."
The elderly caballero turned to Felipe. "Go find Diego and tell him our new servants have arrived." Nodding, Felipe left the room, his woven-leather sandals clicking on the gleaming marble floor.
"He seems like a sweet lad," Monica said. "Has he worked here long?"
Don Alejandro nodded and smiled. Tenderness and pride filled his voice. "Since he was just 7 years old. Felipe is an excellent servant, and he’s very dear to us both." He glanced at his gold timepiece. "I’ll be back in a few minutes. Excuse me." He left.
Tess sighed. "Well, Angel Girl, now that everything’s in place, we have little time to act. By now, Andrew should be at the church, and Gloria at the tavern. She’s been hired by Victoria Escalante to replace a waitress who just quit to get married. And Fernando’s on standby as we speak. He will act when the Lord tells him to."
"And Andrew’s going to work for the priest?" Monica asked. Tess nodded.
"Welcome!" A man’s cultured voice startled them, followed by the clumping of boots; the angels turned to find a handsome young caballero in his late twenties approaching them. He wore a blue velvet vest over a ruffled, snow-white linen shirt. Don Alejandro and Felipe followed him.
The young don held out his hand in greeting. "I’m so pleased to find you here. I see that you’ve met Felipe." He turned toward the boy as he spoke. Felipe smiled wanly and flopped his hand in greeting.
Tess smiled at Felipe. "Indeed, we did."
"Tess, if you’ll go to the kitchen, I’ll join you there shortly," Don Alejandro said. Diego pointed toward the left door that stood next to the dining table. With a nod, Tess left the room.
Don Alejandro chuckled. "Well, Diego, I don’t think we’ll have a servant problem while Tess is here." Clasping his hands behind his back, he looked thoughtful. "She’ll keep the other servants in line; I’m sure of it. She seems to have a no-nonsense way about her."
"Yes. She also has a kind and loving heart," Monica said. Gazing down at a rough cotton dust cloth that had just appeared in her hand, the Irish-tongued angel laughed. "I guess I’d better get to work, too."
Don Alejandro left the room. As Monica proceeded to dust the coffee table, she watched young de la Vega and Felipe. As Diego removed a leather-bound book from an ebony-colored library shelf and ambled toward the drawing-room couch, Felipe gazed at him longingly. Sadness welled up inside Monica. She could see that Diego’s preoccupation was hurting Felipe. Somehow, she and Tess would have to make Diego and his father see what they were doing to the boy.
Monica paused to gaze out the library window. "Please, God, show us what to do," she whispered.
Suddenly, in the nearby drawing room, Don Diego spoke to the servant boy. "Felipe, I want you to take this note to Miguel. My father wants the new vaquero, Rafael, to deliver a message to Padre Benitez. We‘re going to need his help when we host the posada day after tomorrow."
Out of the corner of her eye, Monica saw Don Diego, now seated at a desk, hand Felipe a folded piece of parchment. Nodding, Felipe left the room, and Don Diego strode out the front door. Suddenly, Tess appeared next to Monica.
"Miss Wings, I want you to leave what you’re doing immediately, and tell Rafael--he’s in the stable out back--to keep an eye on Felipe," the gruff, matronly supervisor angel ordered. "That boy doesn’t know it, but he’s in danger right now."
Monica threw down the dust cloth and darted out of the room. Tess raised her eyes to the ceiling, silently pleading with God to spare Felipe and to not command the Angel of Death to take the boy home just yet.
ZZZZZZ
Felipe trudged out the kitchen door and toward the breeding barn. Miguel, the head vaquero, had spent the night there, he knew, delivering a foal. Unknown to him, the bandit Jorge hid behind a clump of bushes near the barn, waiting for Felipe to arrive, and grinning in anticipation. "You’re dead, muchacho," Jorge muttered.
At the same moment, the Hispanic angel rushed after the boy, praying desperately that he would catch up with Felipe. His cotton bandana bobbed on his neck.
"Please, Father, help me catch up before the bandit does," Rafael muttered, looking up at the cloudless sky.
To his relief, he saw Felipe up ahead, approaching the barn; the Hispanic angel rushed toward him. Halting, Felipe shook a pebble out of his left sandal. As he straightened up, the new vaquero caught up with him.
"Hola, Felipe." Rafael beamed. "Beautiful day, no?" Felipe nodded. "I saw you, and I thought you might be looking for Miguel--he's in the cow pasture right now. Does the patrón have a job for him, or for me?" As he spoke, Rafael brushed his hair out of his eyes. Beads of sweat rolled down the angel’s forehead.
Felipe aimed his index finger at Rafael’s chest, then handed him the note. Rafael scanned it and nodded acquiescence. "I am to take a message to the church," he said. "Sí, tell Don Alejandro I will do as he says. But first--" He glanced toward the back of the hacienda. "I could use something to drink, amigo. I think I’ll go back with you, get some water, then go to the church to deliver the message to the padre." He wiped his forehead and crumpled the parchment. Felipe nodded.
Rafael followed Felipe to the kitchen door. Behind the bushes, Jorge ground his teeth in frustration; Rafael had foiled his plot. "That young vaquero runs too fast," he muttered, clenching his fists. "Santa Maria! Curse him!" He crept away.
In the kitchen, Tess handed Rafael a glass of water. Rafael gulped it down.
"Now, scoot!" she ordered, waving a wooden spoon above her head. Grinning, Rafael set down the glass and left. Tess poured a glass of lemonade and handed it to Felipe.
"You know, Felipe, you look as if you could use something to drink," she said. "I have a hunch you could also use a bite to eat. I’ve been told you haven’t been eating too much lately." She set the glass pitcher on the plank table and picked up the spoon. "Tonight, amigo, I’m going to make some enchiladas, and I want you to eat every bite." She proceeded to stir a mixture of cornmeal, water, and egg yolk in a wooden mixing bowl.
Smiling wanly, Felipe rubbed the back of his neck. It was true; he no longer felt like eating. He downed the glass of good cold lemonade, then wandered toward the front of the house in search of Don Diego. He found the patrón in the drawing room, donning his navy-blue charro jacket.
"I’ve got to go into town to make plans with Victoria," Diego told the boy. "She’s going to host the final posada, as you know, and then there’s the Christmas Eve party to follow. Our new vaquero, Rafael, has gone to town to enlist the padre’s help." He straightened his ruffled shirt sleeves. "If my father asks, tell him that’s where I‘ve gone." Felipe nodded.
As Don Diego strode out the door, it struck Felipe that the joyous anticipation that usually creased Diego’s face prior to Christmas hadn’t appeared once this holiday season. For all Don Diego’s busyness, he didn’t appear at all happy. Felipe sighed. Neither am I. He frowned. What’s happening, anyway? Why is everything wrong?
Deep pain lay in Felipe’s gut like a stone. He gazed down at his sandals. Don Diego never spent time with him anymore; he was always too busy to talk to the boy or do anything with him. Diego hadn’t even given Felipe his lessons in weeks. And Don Alejandro was no better. If he wasn’t riding with the vaqueros, rounding up horses and cattle, he was doing bookwork or attending meetings with other caballeros.
It hadn’t been like that when the people had needed Zorro. Then, Diego and Felipe had spent much time together, working together to fight the alcalde’s tyranny. Not only that, Diego had made it a priority to be there when Felipe needed him. The alcalde’s death, it seemed, had killed Don Diego’s need of his boy as well.
It’s been weeks since Don Diego and I really talked, really did anything together. All he does, anymore, is tell me what to do. The boy took a deep breath and leaned against the wall.
Now that Zorro’s no longer needed--much, Felipe thought, I guess that means I’m not, either. Do I even belong here now? If not, where?
For the first time in a long time, Felipe faced the painful realization that he belonged nowhere. He was an orphan, with no relatives that he knew of. Even though he was a peasant, he didn’t live with other peasants, and even though he spent most of his time in the company of caballeros, he wasn’t one of them. His fine education and gentlemanly upbringing, received from the de la Vegas, didn’t change that.
True, he was a ward of the church, but he had never lived there; he only spent his days off and yearly vacations at the mission. Of course, he wasn’t the only orphan in Los Angeles; there were others in the area, too. For example, Sergeant Mendoza had lost his parents when he was a small child, and Victoria Escalante had lost her parents during her mid-teens, the same age Felipe was now. Still, neither were totally alone. Sergeant Mendoza had belonged to the Spanish army since his own teen years, and Victoria still had her two brothers and her tavern. Felipe grimaced at the thought.
It’s not fair, Felipe thought bitterly. Sergeant Mendoza has his army, Señorita Escalante has her brothers, and I have no one! I don’t even know my last name--at least they know theirs! He gazed down at his sandals. I belong nowhere, and nobody needs me. Who does, really? Not Don Diego! Zorro hardly ever rides anymore. Ever since Sergeant Mendoza became acting alcalde, he lets Zorro ride, so most bandits are afraid to rob Los Angeles.
Tears welled up, and he swiped them away. Don Diego, why do you push me away? You’re the closest I’ve got to a father; I need you! I wish Zorro was still really needed; then I would be, too! With my parents gone, I don’t have anyone else. The boy bit his lower lip. Who am I , anyway? Who were my parents; what did they do? Were they farmers? Where did I live, when they were alive? What was my last name? Felipe banged his head against the beige-yellowish wall and clenched his fists. Why did they have to die?!
"Hello, Felipe." A hand on his shoulder startled the boy, who whirled around to find Monica facing him. Compassion welled in her kind eyes. "I saw you leaning against the wall here, and I thought you could use some company." The new parlor maid’s soft-spoken voice and kind expression eased the pain in Felipe’s heart.
"Would you like to share with me what’s wrong?" Monica cupped her fingers under Felipe’s chin. "Sometimes, it helps to talk." She laid the dust cloth on the back of a silk brocade chair next to the ebony-colored bookcase.
Before Felipe could stop himself, he found himself explaining, via signs, the situation between the de la Vegas and himself. To his relief, Monica appeared to understand his sign language with no difficulty. When the boy finished, Monica smiled comfortingly.
"It’s hard to feel loved and needed when the people you love have no time for you," Monica said gently. "But they do love you and need you, Felipe--I sense that. Don Diego’s facing a crisis of his own, and it’s consuming him so that he can’t see your need as he usually can. And Don Alejandro’s consumed with his ranch, at the moment, and with Christmas preparations."
Smiling kindly, Monica tilted her head and traced the outline of Felipe’s face. "Listen to me, Felipe. God loves you, too, and He always has time to listen. Why don’t you go to Him now, and ask Him to help you with this problem?"
Felipe smiled and nodded. Monica’s comforting words had made him feel better. As he left her to go to his room, intending to pray, he wondered about this new maid. Monica is so nice, he thought. And so easy to talk to!
In his room, Felipe picked up his wooden rosary and knelt at his altar. His late mother had bequeathed him the rosary when she died in the battle that had orphaned him. Please, God, Felipe silently prayed, gripping the smooth beads, help me; everything’s gone wrong. Don Diego never talks to me anymore, unless he’s giving me an order, and Don Alejandro’s too busy to bother. The boy paused. Monica thinks that something’s troubling Don Diego. Please help him with it, and make him talk to me again! In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, amen. He made the sign of the cross, the proceeded to pray with his rosary.
To Felipe’s dismay, it seemed as if God was turning a deaf ear to his prayers. In the days that followed, Felipe could not get Don Diego to pay attention to him, try as he did. When Diego wasn’t at the tavern, visiting Victoria, he was in the lab performing experiments, reading, or out riding. How Felipe wished that he could feel that he belonged! And that he was still loved and needed.
Two days after the servants were hired, the de la Vegas hosted one of the posadas. Andrew came with Padre Benitez to assist with the children. He wore the brown woolen outfit of a monk and a pair of woven-leather sandals.
"How is Felipe?" Andrew asked Monica in a low voice. Monica watched the children for a long moment, as they scrambled for the piñata’s candy on the enclosed cobblestone patio.
"Not good." She sighed. "I talked to him, and I urged him to pray. And he has. But now, he thinks that God hasn’t heard him. He’s as depressed now as he was before we came." With a sigh, Monica shook her hair behind her back.
Andrew shook his head. "We don’t have much time left. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve." Deep concern welled up in his eyes as he bit his lower lip and gazed at the servant boy, leaning against a column that helped support the awning surrounding the patio.
The next morning, the de la Vegas and their servants went to town, including Felipe, Tess, and Monica. Even Rafael accompanied them. While the Hispanic angel worked with the merchants in decorating the plaza, the de la Vegas, Felipe, Monica, and Tess helped Victoria clean and decorate the tavern. Overhead, a few feathery clouds drifted across the sky, and a dove perched on the tavern roof.
Felipe tied red ribbons into bows, and his patróns climbed on ladders to attach them to the walls and ceilings. Victoria tied ribbons around the candles and swept the bar. Tess and Monica swept the floor and wiped the tables. Gloria waited on customers, taking their orders and refilling drinks.
"Did you know," Gloria told one customer, as she handed him a plate of tamales, "that maize is grown in Mexico? Down there, the peasants make it into tortillas and use them for plates."
The man rolled his eyes. "Sí, señorita. Por favor, I would like a drink." With a shrug, Gloria wandered toward the bar.
Felipe watched her as Gloria poured a glass of wine for the customer. Repeatedly, the boy looked up at Don Diego, sighing. Would Diego ever be there for him again?
Suddenly, Rafael entered the tavern. After he exchanged concerned glances with Monica and Tess, Monica approached Diego. "Why don’t you help Felipe make the bows?" she suggested, leaning on her broom. "Rafael can help your father nail them to the arch."
Nodding, Don Diego climbed down from the ladder, and Rafael took his place. Diego smiled at Felipe as he approached the boy, but there was no smile in his eyes. Without a word, the caballero picked a strip of shiny ribbon out of the basket and tied it into a bow.
Felipe paused to gaze at him; Diego set down the bow and picked up another ribbon. "Come on," he urged, "there’s not much time. Señorita Victoria has to have everything ready by tonight. And we still have to decorate our own tree." He glanced down at his timepiece.
Biting his lower lip, Felipe nodded and focused on his work. For the next half hour, the two of them made bows out of the ribbons. Monica took them to Rafael and Don Alejandro, who in turn fastened them in their various spots throughout the serving area. Several times, Felipe tried to get Diego’s attention by eye contact, but the caballero paid him no attention.
At last, Diego tied his last bow. Arching his back, he strolled toward Victoria. Felipe gazed at the handsome caballero for a long moment, biting his lip. Bitterness flooded the boy's heart.
As far as Felipe was concerned, this was too much. He had tried to re-establish communication with Don Diego, and had failed. All he wanted to do, now, was to go home and hide in his quarters. Felipe laid down the last ribbon and folded his arms.
He’s so busy, the boy thought. Don Diego doesn’t need me. Not anymore. Maybe never again! Suddenly, as he leaned forward and pressed his fingers against the table’s smooth surface, Monica’s words came to mind. Monica says she thinks he’s unhappy, too. He sighed. And so am I!
Slumping, Felipe trudged out the front door. For a long moment, he leaned against the post supporting the awning, as he watched the other peasants getting things ready.
What am I doing here? Felipe wondered. What, exactly, am I here for? He wiped his face with his cotton handkerchief.
ZZZZZZ
Unknown to him, three bandidos slowly approached the pueblo on horseback. "This is it," Jorge warned, as he halted his mount. "We’ve got to be careful from here on. When we get there, one of you go into the plaza and tell the boy he’s needed behind the tavern. If he's in the tavern, one of you find a child and tell him to give Felipe that message. Pancho and I’ll be waiting behind the trees; when he gets here, we’ll grab him and we’ll get him away from here."
Jorge paused to scratch his neck. "We’ll take the boy to the cave where we’ve set up our camp. Now, you know what to do?" The other two nodded.
"Good. Let’s go." They broke into a trot.
ZZZZZZ
Felipe trudged toward the back of the tavern and leaned against the adobe wall, sighing. The smooth adobe bricks pressed his homespun cotton shirt against his back, and a cool breeze ruffled his brown hair.
Well, it’s Christmas Eve, and tonight, there’ll be a party, the boy thought. Tomorrow, I will open presents with the de la Vegas and eat Christmas dinner with them, too. He shrugged. And yet, it all means nothing.
"You don’t look very happy, muchacho," a strange male voice said. Startled, Felipe looked up to see a gentleman he’d never seen before standing before him. The man wore a snow-white tailcoat over a glistening white vest, snow-white silk cravat, and a shining, ruffled silk shirt. Polished black boots covered his feet.
Felipe gaped at the man. Who on earth was this caballero?
"My name is Fernando," the man said. "I am an angel. Yes, Felipe, you heard correctly." He chuckled at the boy’s astonished expression. "Amigo, if you open your mouth any wider, a bird’s going to build a nest in it." Felipe closed his mouth. The angel stepped forward, his expression turning serious.
"The Lord sent me to your master, Don Diego, last Christmas, because he was depressed," Fernando explained. "He was wondering if his mission as Zorro was doing the people of Los Angeles any good." He smiled at the boy’s horrified stare. "Yes, Felipe, I know all about his secret identity, and more importantly, so does God." He fingered his snow-white silk cravat as he spoke. "Don’t worry, muchacho, I won’t tell the good people of this pueblo who Zorro is. His secret is safe with me, and so is yours--yes, I know you can hear. And since only you can see and hear me, none of the people decorating the plaza can hear what I’m saying."
Felipe sighed in relief. The last thing in the world he wanted was to endanger Don Diego.
"At the time, Diego was feeling as depressed as you do, now. Being sick, that day, and being berated by his father on top of that, had quite demoralized him. If God hadn’t sent me to him, your patrón would have given up the fight for justice." With a frown, Fernando shook his head. "The consequences for Los Angeles would have been severe, if he’d done that, and I showed him that."
How? Felipe signed.
"By letting him experience a Los Angeles in which Zorro had never existed," Fernando explained. "The alcalde was running amok, and the people’s spirits and characters had been destroyed. Señorita Escalante had become a--well, no, I’d better not say it; you’re still young." Fernando grimaced. "Suffice it to say that without Zorro’s love, Victoria’s own soul would have been destroyed by the alcalde’s evil. Sergeant Mendoza had been fired by the alcalde years before, and Don Diego had been permanently banned from the pueblo."
Felipe shook his head, stunned. Fernando touched the boy’s shoulder. Sorrow etched his face.
"That’s not the worst of it, Felipe. Remember when the alcalde confiscated the pueblo’s water supply, and tried to make the people pay for the fountain water?" Felipe nodded. He did indeed remember. "Well, on that day, Don Alejandro stood up to Luis Ramon for his action. Since there was no Zorro to stop Ramon, the alcalde shot Don Alejandro dead right then and there; when Mendoza tried to stop, him, the alcalde discharged him on the spot. On that day, Diego was forbidden to ever again enter Los Angeles." Felipe winced at the awful realization of what would have become of the de la Vegas if Diego hadn’t taken on his secret identity, his mission.
Don Fernando paused, inserting his fingers in his vest pocket. "And much later, amigo, you were kidnapped by that couple who wanted to use you to rob a bank. After you were tried and convicted of being their accomplice, you were sentenced to serve time at the Devil’s Fortress."
Felipe winced. He remembered that horrible couple. The woman had lured him away from Don Diego by posing as Felipe’s long-lost mother. He had learned that she and her partner, Jorge, only wanted to use him to rob a bank because he greatly resembled a bank president’s son. Thankfully, Diego had ridden as Zorro to Felipe’s rescue.
Zorro was furious, Felipe recalled. He threatened to kill Jorge if Jorge tried to fight him. He doesn’t usually do that--he respects human life too much. But he was going to do it that day.
Don Fernando cupped his fingers under Felipe’s chin. "Felipe, your constant aid and support makes Zorro’s work possible. Without you, Zorro would have perished long ago. And without you, Zorro too often would not have been able to ride to the rescue in time. You have always been needed by him, and you still are. Right now, he is consumed by his own pain, and unable to reach out to you as he usually does. You must pray for him, my boy, that God will heal his troubled heart."
Guilt flooded through Felipe. Lowering his head, he dug a shallow furrow in the dirt with the toe of his sandal. I have been so selfish! the boy thought. Don Diego’s been hurting, too, and all I’ve thought of is myself. Rubbing the back of his neck, Felipe looked at Fernando and sighed.
"Amigo, I know it is difficult for you when they have no time for you, and so does God." Fernando patted the boy’s shoulder. "Just remember, the de la Vegas still love you and need you. That will not change, even if Zorro is never needed again. And Don Diego will come to himself again. God in His goodness is working on that. Just pray for him, all right?" Felipe nodded acquiescence.
"Good." Fernando glanced at the sky. "Now, I must go. Adios, Felipe." To Felipe’s astonishment, the angel disappeared from sight.
As Felipe stood there, thinking about what Don Fernando had said, two arms grabbed him from behind. Felipe tried to push away the arms encircling his chest, but to no avail. As the boy raised his foot to stomp on the foot behind him, a peasant man wearing a handkerchief over his mouth stepped in front of Felipe and aimed a gun at his forehead. "Fight and you’re dead, muchacho!" the man hissed. "You’re comin’ with us!"
Terror surged in Felipe’s heart. His arms dropped to his sides as he froze. He had left the tavern without telling anyone where he was going; nobody knew what was happening. He needed help, fast! Please, God! Felipe prayed silently. Help me!
Pulling Felipe away from the tavern, the men stopped behind the clump of trees, where three horses and a third bandit waited. A bandana covered his face. For an instant, Felipe wondered who he was.
The bandits forced Felipe to mount a palomino. One of the bandits climbed up behind him, and they galloped away. Where are they taking me? Felipe wondered. What do they want? Why are they kidnapping me?!
An hour later, they stopped in front of a narrow cave entrance. The bandit riding behind Felipe dismounted and forced the boy to do the same. "Well, well." The bandit who had waited with the horses chuckled as he approached Felipe. "We got him, amigos. We finally got him! Now I shall have my revenge. We all will." He yanked off his bandana and braced his fists against his sides. "Remember me, muchacho?"
Felipe froze. Shock flooded him. The man who stood before him was none other than Jorge, the man whose partner had impersonated Felipe’s mother just to kidnap him!
"Come on; let’s take him inside." Jorge grabbed Felipe’s upper arm, digging in his nails so tightly that Felipe winced. The bandits marched him into the cave, where Jorge tied the boy’s hands behind his back.
"You’re goin’ to pay, boy!" Jorge shoved him against the wall, then pushed him down into a crouching position. "You’re goin’ to pay dearly!" He bound the boy’s ankles together as he spoke. "Thanks to you, I never got to get the money I wanted. Thanks to you, my sister died in jail. Thanks to you, I wasted the last few years in prison." He glanced at his co-horts. "And thanks to you, these friends of mine never got to kill the alcalde and get any loot from the pueblo like they wanted." He grabbed Felipe’s chin and glared at the trembling boy. "And now, you’re goin’ to pay with your life for ruinin’ our plans! You’re goin’ to die today."
He straightened up, and rubbed the cave wall with the tips of his fingers. "First, though, I’ll give you a little while to think about it."
He strode out the entrance, followed by one of the other bandidos. Crouched against the opposite wall, the third one stayed with Felipe, cradling a shotgun in his hands and grinning at the boy. Felipe averted his eyes, unable to meet that evil gaze. He remembered the other two bandits now. He had come across their camp, early one morning, while they were finalizing their plans to murder Alcalde Ramon, and they had taken him hostage. Don Diego had rescued him, then had ridden as Zorro to stop the bandits.
Felipe winced as the ropes cut into his wrists. With the bandit guarding him, he dared not struggle to free himself. Already, his hands and feet had turned numb. The frigid bumps in the cave wall dug into his back.
I’m in real trouble, he thought. Don Fernando, where are you? He took a deep breath. If Zorro doesn’t come after me now, I’m as good as dead!
Unknown to Felipe or his captors, someone else stood in the back of the cave, fearing the same thing. As Andrew, clad in a shining beige suit, watched the boy, he lifted his eyes to the roof of the cave. "Please, Father," he prayed, "don’t make me take this boy Home now. He’s still needed on earth! Please, God, save Felipe’s life."
Andrew took a deep breath. There was nothing to do now but wait. Everything now depended on whether or not Diego could be reached in time by the other angels. Biting his lower lip, the Angel of Death crossed his arms and fixed his worried gaze on Felipe.
ZZZZZZ
Don Diego entered the kitchen to get a drink of water. "Hello, Don Diego," Gloria greeted him. She filled a glass with water from the pump and handed it to Diego. He wrapped his fingers around the glass’s cool, smooth surface.
"Gracias." Diego smiled at her.
Gloria watched him as he sipped the cold water. "Did you know that water is part oxygen and part hydrogen?" she asked. "Oxygen is in the air you breathe; without oxygen, you can’t live." She nodded toward his glass. "It also exists in the water you drink."
Diego gazed at her, puzzled. What was Gloria talking about? Although he was a amateur scientist, he had never heard of this data. And where would an impoverished tavern maid have gotten such information?
"Gloria!" Tess appeared in the kitchen doorway, severity etched on her face. "You’re supposed to be waiting on customers!"
"Coming!" Glancing sheepishly at Diego, Gloria followed Tess into the serving area. Diego chuckled in spite of himself.
As he swallowed the last of the water, he wondered where Felipe had gone. He had not seen the boy in well over an hour. Perhaps Felipe had gone out to the plaza to help Rafael.
"You are worried about Felipe?" The female Irish brogue startled the caballero; he whirled around to find Monica standing next to the fireplace. "It’s been a long time since you’ve really thought about him, hasn’t it? You’ve been consumed with some unhappy memories these past few months." She stepped forward as she spoke.
Diego furrowed his eyebrows as the woman spoke. Suddenly, a golden light bathed Monica. "Who are you?" he asked, shock filling his voice. He set down the glass and gaped at her.
"I am an angel," Monica said softly. "Sent by God. So are Tess, Rafael, and Andrew. And Gloria."
"That’s right." Tess appeared next to her. "And since this problem, whatever it is, has been consuming you for all these weeks, don’t you think it would help if you talked about it?"
Don Diego sighed. Tess was right, he knew. However--
"We already know about your secret identity," Tess said. "We know that you ride as Zorro to save the people of Los Angeles from oppression. We also know that Felipe feigns deafness to spy for you. Fernando--you may remember him; he visited you last Christmas Eve--he knows it, too."
Diego’s mouth dropped open. Don Fernando! How well he remembered that angel, sent by God to bolster him at a time when he was thinking about giving up the fight for justice. Thinking about that night made him remember anew the matter that had depressed his spirits these past weeks.
Sighing, Diego gazed at Tess. "Yes. Something is bothering me." He paused, clasping his hands behind his back. "Our former alcalde, Luis Ramon, died at the Devil’s Fortress because of me, and I’ve been battling guilt ever since. He fell off the outer edge of the battlements, where he had been clinging for life." Don Diego paused. "I wanted only to stop him from carrying out his evil plans--he had just stolen the land grant to our property, you see." Monica nodded. "He fell to his death there, immediately after he pulled off my mask."
Tess took a step forward. "Answer me this, Diego. Did you push him off the battlements?"
Diego shook his head. "No, but I tried to make him give me the document before I would help him back up. He lost his footing and fell to his death." He sighed.
Monica approached him. "Don Diego, listen to me. It is not your fault that Luis Ramon died." She touched his arm. "It is his fault and his alone. He didn’t have to go there, to begin with; his greed led him to do that. He didn’t have to attempt to climb down the outer wall of the Devil’s Fortress, either, but he did. Didn’t he?" Diego nodded. "God loves you, Diego, and He sent us to tell you that you are not to blame for Ramon’s death. He does not want you to carry that burden any longer. Give it to Him instead." With a tilt of her head, Monica smiled at him kindly.
Diego exhaled slowly and made the sign of the cross. In that moment, a heavy burden seem to lift from his heart.
"That is good, because right now, Felipe needs you." Tess wagged her finger. "That boy has been needing you these last several weeks, and has become deeply depressed himself, for wondering if you still loved him and needed him. You need to rebuild your relationship with him, Diego, and make time for him once more."
Don Diego winced. Guilt surged anew in his heart, but this time it was a different form of guilt. He had indeed been neglecting Felipe, and so had his father. Felipe, he realized, had not smiled or looked happy since Diego came home. The boy trudged around in a slump. I’ve been so depressed over the alcalde’s death that I’ve completely ignored Felipe, Diego thought, folding his arms across his chest. Except to give him orders, I don’t even talk to him anymore. No wonder he feels unloved!
Suddenly, Rafael appeared in the room, worry in his eyes; he swiped his hair out of his eyes in agitation. "Señor, Felipe needs you right now!" He gestured toward the door. "Some bandidos have kidnapped your boy, and are getting ready to kill him even as we speak."
Shock engulfed Don Diego’s heart. "Where is he?!" he asked hoarsely.
"In a cave, an hour’s ride from here. If you’re going to save him, do it now! I’ve got your things and your horse outside, behind the trees, so you don’t have to go back to the hacienda."
Thanking Rafael, Diego rushed outside. Sure enough, Toronado stood hidden in the same clump of trees where, unknown to Diego, the bandidos had earlier tethered their horses. Hastily, Don Diego changed into his costume while he silently prayed that he would reach Felipe in time.
ZZZZZZ
Felipe leaned against the frigid, bumpy cave wall, struggling with the ropes. His hands and ankles felt numb and tingly. Sunlight flooded the entrance, forming a jagged rectangle of sunlight on the stone floor. The bandido guarding him earlier had stepped outside.
Please, God, the boy silently prayed, again and again, save me! Save me, por favor!
Minutes passed; he had no way of keeping track of them. Did anybody know he was missing? Were the de la Vegas looking for him? Was there the slightest hope that he would be found in time? Or was it too late for Felipe?
A clumping noise sent a jolt of terror down the boy’s spine. The bandidos were coming back! Felipe straightened his back and took deep breaths.
Jorge paused in the entrance for a long moment, grinning at Felipe. As he approached the boy, he pulled a pistol out of his holster.
"It’s too bad that you’re not goin’ to live long enough to celebrate another Christmas," he said. "You’re dead, muchacho!" He cocked the pistol and aimed it at Felipe’s chest.
"No, señor!" A familiar voice startled Felipe; the three bandits whirled around. Zorro framed the entrance, aiming his Toledo-steel saber at the bandidos. "If you pull that trigger, it is you who will be dead!"
Fury and fear etched Jorge’s face as he whirled the pistol toward Zorro. The masked avenger swung his whip toward the bandido, yanking the pistol out of his hand. The bandits advanced on him, swinging their rapiers. As Zorro dueled with them, Andrew appeared before Felipe, bathed in a golden light. He crouched in front of Felipe.
It’s the monk who came with Padre Benitez to the posada we hosted! Felipe thought, gaping up at Andrew. What’s he doing here, and why is he dressed like that? And where’s that light coming from?!
"It’s all right, Felipe." Andrew untied the boy’s ankles as he spoke. "I’m an angel sent from God, the Angel of Death. God sent me here to be on standby, in case I had to take you Home." He drew Felipe’s shoulders forward and deftly untied his arms. "But I won’t be doing that now." He helped Felipe to his feet and put an arm around the boy’s back.
As Andrew and Felipe watched Zorro, still engrossed in his fight with the bandidos, Andrew’s eyes twinkled. "Furthermore, I don’t think that your patróns will be neglecting you after this." He smiled at Felipe. "God has dealt with Don Diego, and he’s all right now." Smiling his thanks, Felipe rubbed his hands until feeling returned to them.
In that instant, Zorro knocked out the last of the three bandidos and carved a Z in the rear of his trousers. The other two lay unconscious next to him. As Zorro sheathed his saber, he turned to Felipe and Andrew. "You are--!" His voice trailed off, as he stared at Andrew.
"The Angel of Death? Yes," Andrew said. "I know who you are. And trust me, Zorro, if you hadn’t arrived when you had, I would, this minute, be taking Felipe home to Heaven. Your quick action saved his life."
Zorro extended his arms and clasped Felipe to his chest for a long moment. "Amigo, I owe you an apology," he whispered. "My father and I have neglected you shamefully." He drew back and gazed at Felipe, shame flooding his expressive blue eyes. "Just remember, Felipe, we love you dearly. We always will. We need you, my friend, and we love you very much." Felipe nodded, as gratitude flooded his heart. Zorro hugged him once more, until a shout startled them both.
"Zorro!" Sergeant Mendoza entered the cave. "Who are--?"
"Three bandits who wanted to murder Felipe, Sergeant." Zorro looked at the servant boy, then at Andrew. "Señor, will you take Felipe home while I help the sergeant tie up these bandidos?"
"Certainly." Andrew--who had changed, instantaneously, from his shining light suit to an ordinary monk’s costume, Felipe noticed--smiled. "Let’s go, Felipe; by now, Don Alejandro is probably worried." Felipe nodded vigorously and followed the angel out of the cave.
ZZZZZZ
That night, in the tavern, the de la Vegas and Felipe gathered around the Christmas tree with Victoria and Sergeant Mendoza. Along with the other caballeros and doñas milling around, Don Alejandro and Don Diego had donned their best clothes after they and Felipe had decorated their tree in the hacienda entry. Victoria wore a green woolen skirt and a red cotton blouse. Around them, soldiers mingled with the other party guests.
Diego wrapped his arm around Felipe’s shoulder; he smiled affectionately at the boy. "You and Señorita Dolores did an excellent job of trimming the tree, amigo," he said. Felipe smiled.
"You certainly did." Victoria patted Felipe’s shoulder. "And I, for one, am so grateful that Zorro saved your life."
"So am I." Don Alejandro’s voice shook. "I find it hard to comprehend that those bandidos have been plotting and planning for months to murder our boy." He shook his head.
"Well, I’m grateful they didn’t succeed." Diego pursed his lips, and a hard edge crept into his voice. "Christmas would have been devastated for all of us if they had." He hugged Felipe to his side.
The servant boy smiled. Everything was all right, now, and there was much to look forward to. In the morning, he and the patróns would open their presents, and for Christmas dinner, they would have a big turkey dinner. Felipe could hardly wait!
As the assembled group admired the Christmas tree, the five angels leaned against the bar, watching the crowds of people and listening to the happy group assembled around the tree. "Christmas has been salvaged for these people," Andrew said. A pleased, satisfied expression welled up in his eyes.
"Yes." Fernando sighed in contentment. "And so has my work. The Angel of Angels has rescinded my chastisement; he’s even given me a promotion for a job well done."
"Well, you’ve earned it," Tess said emphatically. "You helped Felipe out of the fog he was trapped in."
Fernando nodded. "If the Father hadn’t sent you back to this time period to help me, I couldn’t have done it. Someone had to help Diego, to make my assignment a success."
Monica beamed. "This is a truly joyous Christmas!" Next to her, Gloria and Rafael agreed.
Fernando sighed. "I wish I could say that I will remember your visit with fondness. But the Father has told me that after you depart, He is erasing my memory of this assignment."
Andrew nodded. "I know. He told us, too. Nevertheless, Fernando, it was a good job well done. The Father is proud of you, and so are we."
Tess smiled. "Indeed we are." She straightened her back. "And now that our assignment is finished, it's time to return to 2001." She straightened up. "We have an assignment awaiting us when we get there. It's Christmas Eve here, but it'll still be the week before Christmas there. There's a bereaved family in the United States the Father wants us to minister His love to."
The six angels strolled out the front door, then faded from sight as they crossed the plaza. A snow-white dove flew directly over the tavern, disappearing into the star-studded sky.
THE END
©2001, by Kathryn D. Green
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