Chapter 2

First thing’s first,” Diego thought.  He and Victoria went to see Dr. Hernandez so he could hear it straight from the doctor’s mouth.  Victoria might be completely wrong about this, after all.

Dr. Hernandez, however, was far from encouraging.  “I’m afraid my Los Angeles area patients take up so much energy, I’m unable to spend the appropriate time researching a cure for your disease.  I’m so sorry,” he said to Victoria.

“We know that, Doctor.”  Diego said before she could tear up again, instead giving a panicked swallow himself.  “I’ve volunteered to do any research into curing her disease in your stead.  I simply wish to know if you suggest any particular place for us to begin.”

Dr. Hernandez crossed to a bookcase full of medical tomes.  “The book I’m going to lend you comes in three parts.  The first is a basic overview of human anatomy.  The second talks about diseases with known cures.  The third is the part you’ll be interested in.  It deals with diseases with no known cure.”  He gave a mild smile.  “The natural problem to the señorita’s illness is that it covers so many areas of medical study.  When I’ve had a free moment, I’ve written letters to many of my colleagues to ask if they have any experience with this disease.  Those who answered decided she has some form of heart problem rather than some strange disease they’ve never heard of.”  He gave a mournful shake of his head.  “Most said I must be losing my medical edge in my old age, or they have no idea what I’m talking about.  One even accused me of making this up.”  He grunted a laugh.  “But aside from that, my colleagues all say the same thing: ‘Make the patient as comfortable as possible till he or she dies.’”

Diego placed a hand on Victoria’s arm.  “Death is not an acceptable option.”

“It may be the only one we have,” Hernandez grimly stated.  Tears swam in Victoria’s eyes when he said those words, though she had obviously heard something similar before.  Hernandez mournfully sighed as he sat down at his desk, book in hand.  “I know you don’t like to hear this, Señorita Escalante, but as I’ve said before, I’m a man who tells the truth, no matter how harsh it is.  Perhaps instead of doing more research into this disease, your time would be better spent in telling your brothers what’s happening here.  Write a will of some kind to make certain your tavern is kept in your family.  If I know Ignacio de Soto, he’ll make sure the tavern ends up in his hands if there’s no will, and your relatives will be left without a piece of your ancestral heritage.”

“Writing a will won’t be necessary, not if I can help it.”  Diego’s vow sounded as hard as the steel of Zorro’s blade.

In response, Hernandez opened the book he’d taken from his bookshelf and handed it to Diego.  “This is the only information I’ve been able to find that was ever written about a Wasting Disease, or as some call it ‘The Disappearing Disease,’ or, ‘The Sleeping Disorder.’

Diego balked.  “It’s called by different names?”

“That’s why it’s so hard to track down anything definite about it.”

Diego gave another harsh swallow, but only set a marker in the book to save the page, snapped the book closed, then hefted it in his hand.  “Thank you.  You’ve already been more help than you know.”

Hernandez made a sound both sorrowful and apologetic.  “I just wish I could do more.”

“I understand, Doctor.”  Diego ushered Victoria to the office door.

Hernandez followed the couple.  “I’ll let you know if I hear anything more,” he vowed.  “Good luck, Diego.  Visit me again, Señorita, if there are any new developments.”

“We’ll be in touch,” Diego quickly said, as it looked like it was all Victoria could do to propel herself out of the office.

Doctor Hernandez quietly shut the door behind them.

Diego and Victoria walked into the sunshine bathing the Los Angeles plaza, but Diego came to a sudden stop to contemplate the tavern.  “I assume you want to continue to work in the tavern for as long as possible.”

Victoria nodded.  “I’ve found that if I... write my orders down on paper… I can still keep those orders straight… even if I get distracted while dishing them up.”  She gave a grim smile of her own.  “I truly appreciate what you’re doing for me… Diego.”  She took his hand.  “You’re a good friend to have… at any time.”

Diego cradled Victoria’s hand in his.  “How can I not help?”  Another thought hit him.  “And I don’t think even Zorro can complain about the time I’m spending with you if this is what we’re doing.”

        Victoria’s mood didn’t lighten at the mention of Zorro, as it usually did.  “Zorro can’t help me with this,” she sadly said.  “You’re my best hope.”

        Diego’s smile turned wan.  “Don’t worry, Victoria.  I won’t let you...”  He was going to say ‘die,’ but couldn’t put sound to the word.

        That didn’t mean she didn’t mentally hear it.  “I’m no fragile angel… Diego.  You can say it: if we don’t magically find some way… to stave off this disease… I’ll die.  It’s as simple as that.”

        “You’re not going to die.”

        She smiled.  “With you on the case, we’re sure… to succeed.”

                                                Z Z Z

        “I’m stunned,” Don Alejandro said on first hearing Diego’s news later that afternoon at the hacienda.  The older caballero gazed at the fireplace in the sala for a moment of contemplation before fixing Diego with his piercing gaze.  “‘You say she requested you to find a cure?”

        Diego ran an agitated hand through his hair.  ”As misplaced as I think her confidence is, she’s asked me to do what I can to help her.”

        Don Alejandro balked.  “But what if you don’t find a cure in time, Diego, and Victoria dies?  What will you do then?”

        “Cry.”

        “Cry?” Alejandro incredulously echoed.  “Victoria’s fate in this world as well as the next rests on your shoulders, and all you can say is that if she dies, you’ll cry?”

        Diego was incensed in seconds.  “Yes!  Until then, I’ll do whatever it takes to cure her.”

        “And what if there is no cure?” Alejandro persisted.  “Even Dr. Hernandez has only seen this disease once.  I’ve never even heard of it, so it’s doubtful you have.”

        Diego sent a harsh look at Alejandro.  “Father, please!  This situation is hard enough to handle without pointless innuendos.”

        “Diego!” Alejandro said in the tone of a longtime parent chastising his child.  “Perhaps it will be more beneficial to Victoria to call for the padre than to waste time on --”

        “Victoria isn’t on death’s door yet.  I’m not calling for the padre.”

        “If she’s as bad off as you say she is, then she won’t be able to stay at the tavern for much longer, at least not by herself.  What happens then?  Do you plan to bring her to the hacienda so you can have a front row seat in watching her die?”

        “Victoria’s not going to die!”

        “I own this house, Diego!” Alejandro retorted, automatically angry at his son’s belligerent tone.

        “What are you saying, Father?  That she isn’t welcome in this house because she’s sick?”

        Alejandro scowled.  “Of course not!  What I’m saying…”  He gave a regretful sigh.  “I hate to mention this at a time when it seems that more important things are happening, but you and she aren’t married, and the gossips in this pueblo are sure to --”

        “I don’t believe this,” Diego groaned.  “Victoria is only a few steps away from disappearing forever, and you’re thinking about gossip?”

        “I’m not thinking about it,” Alejandro insisted.  “Or I don’t think it’s particularly important just now.  What I am saying is there are those who will find it very important that you and she are spending so much time together, but aren’t married to each other.  And those people won’t care if Victoria is sick… which I’m not convinced she is, by the way.  I sure haven’t seen this--”

        “That’s the point,” Diego emphasized.  “You can’t see it.  But if you just talk to her, you won’t be able to miss the fact she’s obviously having trouble breathing.  And she’s complaining about being distracted all the time.  And that she’s tired.  And --”

        “It sounds like she’s having heart problems.  Are you sure it’s not --”

        “Even Dr. Hernandez has ruled out heart problems.  And just because we haven’t heard of this disease before doesn’t mean it isn’t real.”  His hand ran dispiritedly through his hair again.  “It doesn’t matter what I think, anyway.  Victoria certainly believes all of this.”

        “I still say that she’ll suffer just because the two of you aren’t married.” Alejandro stubbornly said.  “I would hate for useless suffering to be Victoria’s last memory.”

        “Then I’ll marry her,” Diego recklessly said.  “If that’s all it takes to waylay the gossip you’re worried about, then --”

        “If only it were that easy, son.” Alejandro continued in regret.  “Victoria and Zorro share a promise - everyone knows that.  If you marry her now, the alcalde will accuse you of being Zorro faster than we can say ‘Toronado,’ no matter how amusing such an accusation would be.”

        “At a time like this, all you can think about is who the alcalde will believe is Zorro?”

        This time, it was Alejandro who ran an agitated hand through his hair.  “We all know what the Alcalde plans for Zorro if he ever discovers his identity: hanging at dawn.  I don’t want to lose you as well as Victoria over this.  I don’t think I can handle outliving another de la Vega.”

        Remorse zinged through Diego at even this peripheral mention of Emissary Risendo, but he refused to give in to guilt, not now.  “You won’t lose me, Father.  And you won’t be losing Victoria, either, if I have anything to say about it.”

        “But don’t you see, Diego?  From what you’ve told me, this is a very personal disease.  Personal as in, it definitely deals with her humor, how everything works with everything else.  What do you plan to do when she needs bathing, and can’t do it herself?  Or needs help dressing?  You can’t expect the servants to care for a sick woman who’s not a de la Vega.”

        “I don’t,” Diego firmly said.  “I’ll do what’s necessary, have no fear.”

        “I’m not having fear,” Alejandro corrected.  “I just want to point out this could quickly become a very embarrassing situation for both you and Victoria, and that you are no doctor… you haven’t the first clue about anything related to a female.”

        Diego gave a look of fire.  “Then I’ll learn.  If we ignore this and comfortably go about our business as Victoria dies, how do you expect me to live with myself?”  Diego’s expression turned anguished.  “I can’t.”

        Alejandro’s expression mirrored Diego’s.  “And I can’t lose my only son, either.”

        Diego took a deep breath, valiantly holding onto his temper.  “Even if it’s Victoria’s life we’re talking about?”

        A thoughtful moment went by before Alejandro said, “With the Alcalde’s vendetta against Zorro like it is… yes.”

        An unrelenting calm slipped over Diego.  “Say what you will.  I’ll find a way to cure Victoria, or if not that, then to treat her disease.  But I refuse to just sit by and watch her die.  I’ll agree to marry her if she’ll have me.  If not, then so be it.  What will come will come.  She’s not beaten yet, and neither am I.”

The second nail slid into place in Zorro’s coffin.