Chapter Ten By Carolynn Bjorkman
		As Diego wound his way through the caves, he watched in the darkness for any streams of lights.  He remembered the small contraption Jenna had used.  A light she held in her hand and lit the way.  He could do with some futuristic help right now.  But he couldn’t have returned with anything of the sort.  He would make his way as he always had before his time travel. But fumbling his way in the dark had taken so long.  He couldn’t risk tumbling down into another time, so he walked agonizingly slow and felt the ground ahead of him with his feet and kept his hands firmly on the stone walls.  Finally up ahead he saw the first glimpse of light.  It was a relief.  At last he was able to see his hand in front of his face! He followed the trace of illumination and, suddenly stopped.  This seemed like a sermon Padre Felipe had preached about: if, throughout our lives, we follow the light out of the darkness, we will find our way home.  Diego felt a sensation course through him.  How that message was even more meaningful at present.  Perhaps the meaning was parallel to his immediate situation, but he decided it didn’t matter.  Follow the light he did.  And he emerged from the darkness. Diego pulled on his mask to resume his identity of Zorro.  He quickly but carefully began to survey his surroundings outside.  He had to be certain it was safe, or else he felt sure he would never be able to find his way in the dark back to the future.  "Back to the future?” he thought with a laugh.  He heard no voices or hoofbeats, and carefully proceeded to the mouth of the cave.  There was absolute silence.  Just birds twittering.  Walking stealthily along the crevices, Zorro thought that it would be wise to find his way upward, to view his surroundings.  If Monastario and the soldiers were on patrol, he had to know.  Reaching the top, he found it safe from all angles.  Zorro then let out an identifying whistle that would summon Tornado.  It was a long shot, he knew.  But just in case the black horse was still in the area, he had nothing to lose.  The first two whistles brought no response.  The third prompted a whinny, although distant.  Zorro whistled a fourth time, which gave an even closer answer.  Looking around, he finally spied his horse and began shimmying down the slopes towards his friend. “Tornado!” he called, “Tornado, here!”  The ebony horse followed the direction of his beloved master’s voice.  The reunion was touching.  Zorro hugged his companion and ally with so much feeling he thought he would choke the horse.  He was home!  And Tornado had waited for him faithfully.  A week had gone by and…Zorro noticed, suddenly, the horse was not saddled.  That would mean that Bernardo had not lost hope either.  He had unsaddled Tornado and sent him back out into the country to find their master.  And find him he did.  Zorro swung himself up and onto Tornado’s back and urged him forward.  Soon he would be home.  Zorro felt exhilarated.  The excuses for his absence as Diego could wait.  He just wanted to get home to the hacienda.  And his wish was granted faster than he could have imagined.  It seemed like seconds that he was going through the secret panel to his room.  He was home! “Diego, my son!” Alejandro exclaimed, upon learning his son was back in his room, “Where have you been?  We have been so worried about you!  And searching everywhere!”  His father embraced him warmly.  “Tell me what happened, my boy!” Diego swallowed hard as he secured his tie.  “It is good to be home father.  I could not sleep one night so I went for a ride, took a wrong step and fell down some rocks.”  He didn’t want to lie to his father, so he kept to as much of the truth without going into detail.  “I am alright, father.  I was well cared for and now I am home.  But I must have been unconscious, because I experienced things beyond reason.”  “I think, Diego, you spend too much time with your nose buried in those books.  They seem to fill your head with more nonsense than useful knowledge.  But ah, my son, I am glad you are not hurt and that you are home again.  Who took care of you?  We must thank them.” “I do not think you will find anyone to thank, father,” Diego said quietly, a distant look to his eyes and sound to his voice.  Alejandro didn’t miss it either.  He looked at his son strangely.  Perhaps he had done more injury to himself than was evident.  Diego looked as if he remembered something that had touched him, or that he longed for and was sorry to leave.  Turning to leave his son’s room, Alejandro spied the small photograph of a beautiful, golden-haired woman in a tiny frame.  Strange, he thought, that someone could paint or draw a picture with such perfection and life-like detail.  It was as if the person had been captured inside the frame.  But where did it come from? “Diego…” Alejandro began, but Diego interrupted his father and quickly diverted his attention to the prospect of some good food down below on the patio.  He wouldn’t be able to explain anything about the picture he’d brought back of Jenna. “Father, suppose you tell me everything that has happened while I was gone, eh?” he suggested quietly.   It was an indication that he didn’t want to talk about the picture Alejandro had seen. Perhaps someday. Diego smiled
				The End