Juan, a young, native man about Diego’s age, pulled back one of the flower-patterned curtains in the de la Vega living room. He caught a glimpse of a carriage pulling up to the gate on the other side of the hacienda’s courtyard and covered the window. “Señors,” he said in his gentle voice, “the new comandante just pulled up.” He adjusted the band around his head and gave the feather on it a quick flick.
Diego and Alejandro, who stood on the living room’s carpet, buttoned their matador jackets and nodded.
“Excellent,” Alejandro said. “Thank you, Juan.”
“I’ll get the drinks,” Juan said. He started to pass Diego, but Diego grabbed his arm.
“Juan,” he ordered, “why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Get out a bit and have some fun?”
“Really, señor?” Juan inquired.
“Of course,” Diego answered. “Trust me, I’ll make sure my father plays nice.”
“Oh, Diego,” Alejandro scoffed right when he finished buttoning his last button.
Juan peered into Diego’s deep brown eyes and said, “Gracias, señor. Gracias.”
Without saying anything, Diego pushed him toward the room in the house that led to the stables. He smiled the whole time he did.
When Juan vanished, Bernardo stepped onto the scene. With a confused look, he pointed in the direction Juan vanished.
“It’s okay, Bernardo,” Diego said. “Juan is one of our best servants. He could use a nice ride in the country. But, for now…” He waved him toward the front door. “¡Ándale!”
“Hey, wait for me!” Alejandro called after his son. He followed him and Bernardo out the door. Before them, the de la Vega fountain shimmered under a few sun rays that managed to find their way through the clouds. It was in the courtyard's center and a precious heirloom in Diego’s family.
On their way to greet Arturo, Diego’s mind wandered. There was Zorro. He and Tornado replaced the image of the carriage. They blended in with the blackness of the night as they rode through California, free as birds. Wind gushed through Tornado’s mane and Zorro’s cape, which flapped behind him.
Before long, they reached Pueblo de Los Ángeles and were greeted by hordes of people offering gifts and yelling, “Zorro! Zorro!” at the masked outlaw.
“Diego!” Alejandro’s voice found its way into Diego’s daydream.
“Father?” Diego asked. He didn’t even realize he, Bernardo, and Alejandro had already made it to the carriage until its door flew open and smacked him in the face. Stumbling backward, Diego fell into a mud puddle behind the back wheels.
Alejandro groaned and smacked his hand to his face, but Bernardo rushed to his friend and helped him up. He wiped the mud off his jacket and gave him a worried look.
“Oh, I’m terrific, Bernardo,” Diego said as another smile separated his cheeks. He bowed to the large, muscular soldier who exited the carriage. He carried a pole in one hand and rested his other on his sword hilt.
Capitán Arturo looked over his black shoulder pad at Diego and twisted his finger around his mustache. It curled at the edges, resembling clock hands.
Diego tucked his arms behind him and said, “Buenos días, capitán.”
Bernardo attempted to give Arturo his own bow, but he went a little too far and tumbled onto his front.
“Uh, welcome to our hacienda,” Alejandro said, leaping into the fray before Diego could embarrass himself further. “I’m Don Alejandro de la Vega, and that’s my son… Diego.” He did not make eye contact with Diego when he said that.
“Your son?” Snickering, Arturo gave Diego a quick flick of his gloved wrist. “You call that muddy pile of bones a man? He’s more like a child who never grew up.”
“I-I apologize about him,” Alejandro stammered. “He’s a little out of it today.”
“Indeed,” Arturo growled, pulling off one of his gloves. “Well, where is it?”
Standing tall, Diego pulled his shoulders behind him. “Where’s what?” he tried to ask in a serious voice, but it wasn’t long until his smile overtook his young face because Bernardo looked like a baby attempting to stand for the first time, trying to get up from the ground.
Bernardo’s feet wobbled under him, but he locked his knees and gave his own goofy smile.
“My wine!” Arturo snapped at Diego. “It already looks like I need to civilize you Californians.”
“Our apologies,” Diego said, gesturing at the hacienda. “Shall we?” He and Bernardo lined up behind Arturo. Arturo was a train engine, and Bernardo and Diego were extra cargo. They marched through the gates individually, and their boots picked up mud and dirt.
Alejandro stayed behind. He clutched his chin and tracked Diego’s every move. “What is with him?” Alejandro asked himself. Usually, Diego’s secondary identity act was a little more formal and adult than he had just seen. No doubt about it, Zorro was getting in his head.
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and then Add to home screen.