Episode #320 - Season Finale

Part Four of Six

Act Three

Gaspar

The best and worst day of Gaspar's life began uneventfully. He was sitting in a shady corner of the cantina, having brunch with Don Villaloba and Don Borges. The first man was senile and the second a petulant young fop, but beggars could not be choosers in these troubled times. Gaspar had friends in Mexico City. There was revolution afoot and the dons needed to prepare for the new roles they would undoubtedly take on when Mexico achieved independence. He hid a grimace of disgust by lifting his teacup to his lips and sipping his tea. Montoya, most likely, would find a way to hang on to power. Upstart though he was, he was good at that. One of the first things Gaspar had resigned himself to when the new situation had come to his attention was having to work with the Coronel indefinitely. Besides, the few times the dons had been able to replace Montoya, however temporarily, those who took his place had proved invariably worse. Take, for example, Coronel Orvantes, who had tried to impose martial law on the pueblo during that crisis with the pirates last fall. Gaspar's grimace tightened. Or perhaps...not. No, there were worse things than Coronel Montoya. Even he had to admit that.

"And how is your young wife these days?" Don Villaloba said with no trace of the irony or sarcasm that another man might have put into the question. "Does she recover apace?"

"She is well enough, all things considered," Gaspar said. "It might have been better for her health had her pregnancy come to term instead of being cut short in so traumatic a manner last fall." She would have had the baby by now, he thought sadly and not for the first time. Even knowing he had not been the father, he felt regret.

"Ah," Don Villaloba looked confused, but said nothing more. Next to him, Don Borges squirmed in his chair, but he, too said nothing. If Villaloba remembered that Vera had been raped and made pregnant by Montoya's late nephew (one man that Gaspar did not in the least mind having killed personally), he had the grace not to mention it. And Don Borges was too much in awe of Gaspar (or of his wealth and influence) to bring it up. Gaspar suppressed a sigh. One of the unfortunate things about keeping up on the pueblo gossip was hearing all about how he had been made a fool of by his own wife over the years. He had been furious with Vera for getting pregnant. Nearly losing her had given him a new perspective on the situation. She was young and hot-blooded; he was old and foolish. Though, if he were even more honest with himself, she had given him no cause for shame since her miscarriage. He even seemed able to keep her happy in the bedroom these days. In fact, he suspected that she had been too subdued by her ordeal to seek other men. If anything, he wished for his old Vera back, or at least the ability to make her laugh again. It did not seem like spring when she seemed so sad.

A commotion at the door drew him out of his reverie. He looked up as he heard a familiar voice snarl, "Get the hell out of my way." Grisham entered the cantina, shoving one of the waiters into a table. Grisham! That devil! What was he doing here? Grisham glanced across the cantina and spotted Gaspar. "Yeah. That's the man I want."

Gaspar stood as Grisham advanced on him through the tables, clearly intending some sort of confrontation. "What is the meaning of this, disturbing me and my guests at lunch?"

Grisham stopped a few feet away. Gaspar flushed in anger, but a small part of him felt satisfaction that Grisham stayed just out of reach. Perhaps the man had learned something, after all, from Gaspar's attempt to castrate him during Vera's crisis. "You," Grisham snarled. "You think you're so much better than me? Big hacienda, every don in the pueblo falling all over himself to kiss your feet. Got your in with the Viceroy every time you get into a fight with Colonel Montoya. Young, beautiful wife. Young, blonde, beautiful wife..."

"What are you babbling about?" Gaspar snapped. "Surely you must be drunk! Are you not supposed to be on duty?"

Grisham ignored him, taking a step closer. Gaspar bridled at the daring. "Yeah. You're really proud of the wife, I can tell. An old goat like you would be. That's how you can prove to everybody that you're still a real man. Too bad you can't prove it to her."

Gaspar sucked in a breath, blind to everything but the thing in front of him that he wanted to kill. "Hijo de puta! You dare insult my petal? I will castrate you for that!"

Grisham chuckled as Gaspar raised his fists. "Hey, you had your chance, remember?" He crooked a finger at Gaspar. "Go ahead. Let's see if your still man enough to try it without having your rancheros hog-tie me first."

"Stop!" a voice cried from behind Grisham. As Gaspar lunged forward someone shoved between them, pushing them apart. "I said, stop it!" Furious at the interference, Gaspar threw a punch, anyway, catching the man on the shoulder. "Hey!" the other man cried in outrage.

Gaspar blinked at him in surprise. "Dr. Helm?"

Helm grimaced at him. "Who else?"

Gaspar backed off. "But...but what are you doing here?"

"Get out of the way, doc!" Grisham snarled, straining against the doctor's outstretched arm.

"Shut up!" Helm turned his head back to Gaspar. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm trying to keep you alive long enough for your son to get to know you. You're not making it very easy!"

"Son?" Gaspar's anger drained away under his bewilderment. "What son?"

"Gentlemen!" The sharp voice startled Gaspar out of his daze. He looked up to see Montoya standing at the door of the cantina. All of the other diners had turned around in their chairs to watch, wide-eyed and silent. "Do we have a problem?"

"Not once you call off your dog, Colonel," Helm panted, still holding Grisham at arm's length.

"Grisham!" Montoya's voice was like a whip--controlled, but Gaspar still heard the anger underneath.

Grisham's mouth set as he glared at Gaspar past Helm's head. Gaspar glared back. "I'm not done here."

"You are now." There was a chilling double meaning to Montoya's words that made Grisham blink. "Go back to the barracks. I will speak with you later." Grisham backed away from Helm, his eyes still on Gaspar. "I'm not finished with you, Hidalgo." He glared at Helm, who glared back. "Or you, Doc." Before Gaspar could think of an answer, Grisham turned and strode past Montoya and the other astonished patrons out of the cantina.

Montoya watched him go, looking wary, then turned back to Gaspar and Helm. "Doctor, I trust you have an explanation for this very public confrontation?"

Helm shook his head. "Don't look at me. I came in the middle of it. I'm just here to tell Gaspar the good news."

Gaspar was completely confused now. "Good news? What good news? Doctor, I think you have been in the sun too much today."

Helm slapped him on the back. "Oh, no, Don Hidalgo. You are going to be a father." He chuckled as Gaspar's mouth dropped open. "Of course, I'm afraid I got ahead of myself saying you will have a son. You may well end up having a daughter. But I do know that either way, you and your wife are going to have a child in about five or six months."

"Ohh." Gaspar felt as if he had been struck by lightning. All thoughts of vengeance against Grisham faded away. "Ohh, my Vera, my petal, she is going to have a child?" Helm nodded, grinning. "Our child? I am going to be a father?" Helm nodded again.

"Why, that is excellent news!" Don Borges cried, jumping up and shoving Helm aside to shake Gaspar's hand. "Don Hidalgo, let me be the first to congratulate you!"

"Oh, yes! Wonderful! Wonderful!" Don Villaloba echoed Borges, raising his hands to Heaven. "To be a father again--why, I have had six, myself!"

Joy filled Gaspar. "Oh, God be praised! I am going to be a father!"

"Surely, that must make you the most fortunate man alive today, Don Hidalgo." Montoya threaded his way through the gathering crowd of well-wishers as they hurried to get out of his way. He extended his hand. "Let me by all means congratulate you on your good fortune."

Gaspar hesitated for just a moment, and then clasped Montoya's hand. "Thank you, Coronel! Thank you very much!" Yes, Montoya was his enemy but for today, it did not matter. Today, he had achieved a dream he had despaired of years ago. Today, he, Gaspar Hidalgo, was going to be a father.

Continue to Part Five