PART 1
Felipe sagged against the yellowish-beige library wall and sighed. For days, now, he'd been carrying a heavy stone in his heart. A stone of grief he had never expected to feel again. For a long moment, he fought back tears. Next to him, the late-afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, forming a square of light on the Oriental carpet spanning the marble floor.
It's not fair! the 14-year-old boy thought, snuffling. It hurts! He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Scenes from a recent horrible experience flashed through his mind.
Felipe had lost his parents, his speech, and his hearing in one of the last battles of the August Revolution, when he was seven years old. Three days later, Don Diego de la Vega, enroute to Los Angeles from his uncle's funeral in Guadalajara, had found the little boy lost on the desert and brought him to California. After two months of failed efforts to find Felipe a home, Don Diego had taken him to Los Angeles. There, Don Alejandro had hired him to serve the de la Vegas as an indentured servant. He had worked as their houseboy ever since. (Felipe had regained his hearing when he was 13, but to be able to spy for Zorro, he pretended he was still deaf. Not even Don Alejandro knew he could hear. Only Don Diego knew his secret, just as only Felipe knew Diego's.)
Two weeks earlier, a woman had come to the de la Vega hacienda, claiming to be his long-lost mother. She had told Don Diego that her last name was Deranosa, and that Felipe's name was Jose. Felipe had been so happy, then, to be reunited with his mother, and Don Diego had been so upset, though he had tried hard to hide his emotions and to be happy for Felipe. It had turned out that the woman was an impostor, and that she and her partner Jorge intended to use Felipe to rob a bank in Mexico City. Fortunately, thanks to Victoria Escalante and her brother Francisco, Don Diego had learned of their plot and had ridden as Zorro to rescue Felipe.
The ordeal had ripped a scab off Felipe's heart to expose a still-gaping wound. Now, days later, Felipe was still deeply shaken. He couldn't stop thinking about the impostor, or the fate that would have been his had not Don Diego found out about his plight. Nor could he hold back the surges of grief that arose in his breast repeatedly. Grief for his real mother, the one he had lost seven years before.
Another teenage boy bounced into the library, with a broad smile on his face. Miguel Sapillo, also 14, had joined the household just a week before, shortly after his graduation from the mission school. His parents lived on one of the many tenant farms owned by the de la Vegas. Felipe had first met him during a visit to the Sapillo farm, a year before.
Miguel's parents had decided that their son was ready to help support them and his younger sisters. Don Alejandro had hired him to work at Felipe's side as another houseboy. As Felipe had previously done, Miguel was sleeping in one of the adobe huts used by most of the servants.
"Hola, Felipe." Miguel trotted toward the other boy, his sandals clicking on the gleaming marble floor. "I just got back. Guess what; I can jump a fence now! They've been teachin' me all afternoon."
Felipe forced a smile on his own face. Miguel was making rapid progress with his riding lessons. His parents owned no horses, only a burro, so he had never had a chance to learn to ride till the de la Vegas had hired him. Well, Felipe thought, if Miguel's going to run errands, he's got to be able to ride.
Felipe plopped on the satin brocade couch under the window. The soft mattress sagged and creaked underneath his weight. At that moment, Miguel saw Don Alejandro's ceremonial sword hanging on the wall. Strolling towards it, he ran his fingers along the edge of the Toledo-steel blade for a long moment, then closed his fingers over the ornate gilt handle.
"Caramba," he said softly, his voice tinged with awe. "If my mamá and papá saw all the things our patróns have--" He shook his head. Felipe nodded agreement, while shaking his head at his colleague. Miguel was always touching and examining things, every chance he got.
He could get into trouble doing that, Felipe thought wryly, scratching his forearm. Like I sometimes have. He glanced at the fireplace and shuddered. As long as he never gets around to examining the fireplace!
Silently, Felipe scrutinized the other boy. Like Don Diego, Miguel had coal-black hair; unlike Diego's or Felipe's, his skin was bronze. He was short and stout. At the moment, he had on a dark-orange cotton shirt, a brown wool sash, and a pair of white cotton trousers. Like Felipe, he was wearing woven leather sandals; like Felipe's, his shirts and trousers were made of homespun, unbleached cotton. Sweat dripped down his face and plastered his bangs to his forehead.
For a long moment, Miguel ran his fingers over the corner of the fireplace mantel, while shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The new houseboy had a restless, fidgety nature. He could never be still.
Miguel turned towards Felipe and shrugged. "If the patróns have no tasks for me, I think I'll go outside. Want to join me?" He pressed his finger against the side of his nose as he spoke.
Felipe signed that he would think about it. Miguel ambled out the front door.
Felipe smiled bitterly. Miguel was so lucky! He had a family to belong to, but Felipe didn't. Miguel had a mother and a father and a last name to share. Felipe had no one. One day, Miguel would inherit the right to till the land his parents rented. Being an orphan, Felipe would inherit nothing. The closest he had to a family was the de la Vega family. Yet, although they had always treated him with love and kindness, and systematically taught him gentlemanly manners and gave him an excellent education, the fact remained that he wasn't a real family member. He was a servant, not a de la Vega.
Waves of jealousy toward his new co-worker and fear for his own place in the household swept over the mute boy. Now that Miguel was there, was Felipe still as special to his patróns as he had been before? Did they still love him as they always had? Even though he was a ward of the church, the de la Vegas had raised him and educated him from the beginning of his life in Los Angeles. They had given him lots of love, affection, and tenderness all that time. If they took that love away now--! The boy gulped.
Felipe slumped forward, rested his face on the left arm of the couch, and wept profusely. Mamá!! he screamed inwardly. Mamá!!
Minutes later, a hand rested on his shoulder. "Felipe! What's wrong?"
Felipe raised his tear-stained face toward Don Diego's. Deep sadness and concern etched the handsome caballero's expressive face as he bent over the boy.
On impulse, Felipe rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around Don Diego's. For a long moment, Diego just held the servant boy, whispering words of comfort. The familiar scent of men's cologne wafted toward the boy's nostrils.
At last, Diego stepped back and handed Felipe a linen handkerchief. The boy wiped his face and blew his nose. "Let's sit down," Don Diego said kindly, gesturing toward the satin brocade couch.
Felipe settled on the sofa next to his patrón. "You've been quite unhappy ever since that woman came," Diego said. Felipe nodded, scrutinizing his trouser-clad legs.
"That was a terrible time for both of us. I missed you terribly when she took you away." Don Diego sighed and shook his head. "In fact, I was grief-stricken. I love you as if you were my own son, and I had just lost you. Then, when Señorita Escalante told me what she had found out concerning Señora Deranosa, I was furious."
Felipe smiled wanly. He sure had been! The young boy had seen rage in Zorro's blue eyes when he had confronted the bandit couple. He had threatened to kill the man if he tried to fight Zorro, something Zorro didn't usually do.
Don Diego's the best patrón in the world, Felipe thought. He's so good to me. And so is Don Alejandro.
Don Diego shifted position and gazed into Felipe's brown eyes. "Felipe, my father and I love you very much," he said slowly. "We always have, and we always will. Miguel isn't going to change that. Of that, you have my promise."
Felipe nodded. He made some signs as Don Diego watched.
"Yes, I know you like him and that you enjoy working with him. My father and I are pleased that you boys get along so well. At the same time, we've sensed your worry regarding your own place in our hearts." Felipe smiled sheepishly. The de la Vegas were very perceptive.
Don Diego patted the boy's shoulder. "I know that Señora Deranosa re-opened some old wounds, Felipe, and they're going to take time to heal. You have our support, amigo, while you're working through your grief." Felipe nodded gratefully.
A sly smile snaked across Diego's face. Felipe gazed at him, wondering what was going on. The caballero chuckled.
"My father and I have a surprise for you, my friend." Felipe raised his eyebrows. "The reason we hired Miguel is because--"
He paused. Felipe leaned toward him, holding his breath.
Don Diego touched his arm. "I have decided to adopt you, Felipe, and my father agrees. I'm going to make you my legal son and heir. Miguel is your replacement."
Felipe gaped at Don Diego. Am I hearing things? he wondered. Did I hear him correctly?
He signed his thoughts to Don Diego. The don patted his shoulder. "No, Felipe, your ears have not deceived you. You heard every word correctly. You are going to be my son, in reality as well as in my heart."
Joy, estatic joy flooded Felipe's heart. He had not expected this! He threw his arms around his patrón's neck and hugged him. Laughing, Don Diego embraced him back.
"Remember the territorial magistrate who came to Los Angeles when Jack Holten was here?" Felipe nodded. "Well, he's coming here again, to prepare the papers for adoption. My father and I received a letter from him this morning. His coach is arriving tomorrow."
Felipe had no words to say in response, not even in sign language. He just leaned against his patrón, who put an arm around the boy's shoulder. I'm going to be a de la Vega! he thought. Don Diego's going to be my father! For real! Felipe's heart pounded.
"Felipe, for the past seven years, you've been a wonderful servant and a fine boy." Don Diego smiled. "And I know you will be a wonderful caballero." He hugged Felipe to his side. Felipe smiled his thanks.
For several minutes, the two just sat side by side in a companionable silence. Felipe wondered what this would mean to his day-to-day schedule, his future. Silently, he scanned the rows of bound leather books filling the ebony-colored bookcase across the room.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, the boy saw a frown on Don Diego's face. He touched his patrón's arm, concerned.
Diego smiled reassuringly and patted his leg. "It's nothing, Felipe. I was just pondering something."
Felipe just gazed at him with a questioning, concerned expression on his face.
Diego glanced at the fireplace, behind which Zorro's cave lay. "Felipe, once you become my son, it will no longer be proper for you to continue the tasks of a servant." He smiled wryly. "The Spanish class system is alive and well in the Spanish Empire, as you well know." Felipe nodded. He did know, indeed.
"However, someone must do the chores in the cave. Miguel is the obvious choice, yet I don't dare tell our new houseboy Zorro's secret when I can't even tell my own father or the woman I love." Don Diego shook his head and pursed his lips. "And as for spying for Zorro--no one can replace you there."
Smiling, Felipe touched Diego's arm. With gestures, he assured his patrón that he was willing to continue the chores in the cave as long as it was necessary.
Chuckling, Don Diego hugged the boy to his side. "You're a good boy, Felipe." He smiled tenderly. "Gracias."
Felipe grinned back. Someone's got to feed and groom Toronado, he thought. Someone has to keep his stall and Don Diego's laboratory clean. And someone has to spy for Zorro, too. There's no one else to do it.
The familiar clumps of leather boots signalled Don Alejandro's approach. A few seconds later, the de la Vega patriarch strode into the library.
His son and Felipe rose to their feet. "I've just told him, Father." Diego hugged Felipe to his side as he spoke.
Clasping his hands behind his back, the aged don chuckled. "I can see that, judging from the look of happiness on Felipe's face." Don Alejandro's own face clouded. "A look I've missed seeing ever since I came back from my trip two weeks ago."
"We both have, Father." Diego pursed his lips and squeezed Felipe's shoulder. "Two bandidos stole that look from him and re-opened his old wounds. All in the name of greed." He gave Felipe a tender, sympathetic smile. "Maybe this adoption will help heal them."
Nodding agreement, Don Alejandro clasped the servant boy to his chest for a long moment. When he released Felipe, his eyes shone. "I love you, my boy," he said softly. "Just think, soon, you're going to be my grandson." He patted the boy's shoulder.
Felipe smiled back. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, which he communicated via gestures. Don Alejandro inserted his thumbs into his vest pockets as he and Diego watched Felipe's signs.
"Yes, Felipe," Diego said. "Miguel knows. We told him the day he was hired, and swore him to secrecy. And we told the other servants before that. And Señorita Escalante."
Everyone but me, Felipe thought wryly.
Don Alejandro chuckled. "It pleases me that Miguel can keep a secret when the occasion demands it." Diego nodded agreement.
The elderly caballero touched Don Diego's shoulder. "Son, I'm proud of you." A fond, proud smile spread across his face. "You've done a wonderful job already, parenting Felipe as well as you have."
"Thank you, Father." Diego smiled back. "It wasn't hard at all. After all, you set me a wonderful example."
Don Alejandro patted Diego's shoulder, then turned to Felipe. "Amigo, until your adoption is finalized, you will continue to perform your tasks and to eat your meals in the kitchen. After Diego signs the papers, we will hold a fiesta, to celebrate the event."
He scrutinized his gold pocket watch, as it gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the window. Slipping it back into his vest pocket, he glanced at Diego. "If you'll excuse me, my son, I have a short errand to run."
"Of course, Father." Don Alejandro left the room. Diego turned to Felipe. "Well, shall we play a game of chess?"
Felipe nodded vigorously. For the next hour, they played a game in the library, and Diego won.
The next morning, as the de la Vegas, Victoria Escalante, and Felipe waited, the Monterey coach halted in front of the tavern. A light breeze ruffled Felipe's brown hair and caressed his cheeks. A well-dressed caballero they remembered from a previous visit stepped out. He wore a dark-brown frockcoat over a gray satin vest and a snow-white fine linen shirt.
"Don Alejandro de la Vega!" Don Manuel de Santiago shook his hand. "And Don Diego! It's good to see you again. Both of you."
"And you, señor." With a nod, Don Diego clasped his hands behind his back.
The magistrate turned toward Victoria. "I'd recognize that lovely face anywhere. Señorita, is there a room prepared for me?"
"Si, señor. I had it prepared this morning." Victoria brushed back the dark-brown curls that hung down to her shoulders.
Don Manuel nodded his thanks, then turned to Felipe. "I also remember you, amigo." He cupped a hand under the boy's chin and gazed into his brown eyes. "You assisted Sergeant Mendoza in that boxing match between him and Señor Holten."
Felipe nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. Jack Holten, a free black man and a trained boxer, had been arrested by the alcalde at the time, and had agreed to fight for his freedom; at de Santiago's insistence, his opponent had been Sergeant Mendoza. The magistrado didn't know it, but Felipe had rubbed ether on the sergeant's boxing gloves to even the match, since Mendoza had never trained as a boxer.
The magistrate turned toward Don Diego. "I can only stay a week, Diego. Duties await me back in Monterey that cannot be delayed." He inserted his thumbs into his satin vest pockets as he spoke.
Diego nodded. "That will suffice. It will give me time to get Felipe some new clothes, and to plan his fiesta." He glanced at his gleaming gold pocket watch. "And speaking of which, Felipe and I have an appointment with our tailor. Con permiso?" Don Alejandro and Señor Santiago nodded.
Me?! a stunned Felipe thought, as Don Diego led him across the plaza. Am I really going to dress like a caballero? He glanced at the crowds of vendors and other people going about their business.
Don Diego glanced at the expression on the boy's face and laughed. "Well, Felipe, if you're going to be a de la Vega, you must dress like one." Felipe nodded his acquiescence, then tapped his white shirt with a questioning look on his face.
"We will give your clothes to Miguel Sapillo, after the de la Vega seamstress makes them over to fit him." With a smile, Don Diego led the boy into the tailor's shop.
The tailor assured Diego that, with the help of his staff, he would have Felipe's wardrobe finished by the date of his adoption. Together, they picked out a variety of expensive imported fabrics for Felipe's new suits. Then the tailor took Felipe into the back room to measure him.
When Don Diego and Felipe were finished at the tailor's, Don Diego took him to the bootmaker's, then the hatter's. When they had finished their errands, Diego and Felipe joined Don Alejandro and Don Manuel at the tavern. Since it was lunchtime, caballeros and peasants sat at every table.
"Felipe's new clothes will be ready a week from today," Diego told his father. Felipe reclined next to him on the hard, unyielding pine bench, smiling broadly.
Don Alejandro nodded. "Will that day be all right with you, Don Manuel?" He leaned forward and rested his arms on the table.
The magistrado nodded. "I'll have the papers ready by then."
Don Diego patted Felipe's shoulder. "In that case, we'll have Felipe's fiesta that evening, and invite all the caballeros and their families to attend. I'll make a point of inviting those with young sons and daughters. It's time Felipe had a real chance to get acquainted with them."
Don Alejandro smiled at the boy, who grinned back. Santa Maria! Felipe thought. When I was living with my mamá and papá, I never dreamed of anything like this.
A spasm of pain welled up in his heart. I wish they could be here, he thought. He winced. Do I have a right to be happy? Maybe I'm betraying them! Another spasm, this time of guilt, welled up. Don Diego gazed at him in evident concern.
END OF PART 1