[August 25th] [The Alamo (1960)] Diamond in the Rough, 9

[insaneladybug.livejournal.com]

Title: Diamond in the Rough, scene nine
Day/Theme: August 25th - With every rinsing, the window opened further
Series: The Alamo (1960 film)
Character/Pairing: Emil Sande, Graciela "Flaca", Davy Crockett
Rating: T/PG-13

I used the theme very abstractedly. It's a very intriguing one.


By Lucky_Ladybug

They sat by the fire, Emil in one chair and Graciela in another. She had not bothered to change yet, feeling instead that Emil’s wounds needed immediate attention. As he held out his arm she took it, gently bathing it with a damp cloth. He flinched at the pain but clenched his teeth, allowing her to work.

“. . . Those men were at the rally tonight.”

He looked to Graciela in shock when she spoke. She kept her eyes averted, focused on cleaning his wounds with water and alcohol.

“What were they doing there?” he frowned. “They never go to things like that.”

“I was wondering the answer myself,” Graciela admitted. “They made quite a point of letting me know that they knew you.”

Emil stiffened. “And you thought . . . what? That I’d sent them?”

Even in the dim firelight, it was obvious that Graciela looked guilty. “I couldn’t help but wonder,” she said. “After the show you made at the other rally. I didn’t really think you would send such rough men, but . . .” She shook her head and began to pat his arm dry. “I thought you might come up with some excuse, such as that they weren’t as bad as they seemed.”

“They were worse than I even knew,” Emil said darkly. He looked at her in all seriousness. “Graciela, I haven’t had anything to do with those men in months. Even at my worst, I never liked them.

“I thought they had good business sense when we first met. Or at least, good ideas on how to make money. But it didn’t take long for Jarvis to become envious . . . ow!”

“I’m sorry,” Graciela apologized. “I’m going as carefully as I can.”

Emil dared to inspect her work. “. . . It doesn’t look so bad now that you’ve cleaned away all the excess blood,” he mused. “But maybe that’s just because it’s hard to see it clearly in this light to begin with.”

“I don’t think it’s as deep as I first feared,” Graciela said. “He only had enough time to cut your arm while you were in motion, ducking away from him.”

“Thank goodness for small favors,” Emil grunted.

“It should heal quickly,” Graciela assured him.

“And then I’ll have two knife scars,” Emil said. “I’m starting to feel like those hired guns who more than vaguely resemble pincushions.”

Graciela began to wrap the bandage around his arm. “. . . You seemed so frightened when Jarvis swung that knife at you,” she noted.

Emil shrugged. He did not want to talk about that right now.

Sensing it from his suddenly subdued nature, Graciela abandoned the topic. “You say Jarvis envied you?” she prompted.

“Yes, he did,” Emil said in relief, “ever since it dawned on him that I was putting his ideas to work better than he ever had. He accused me of cheating and not giving him his proper percentage of the take.”

“And what was the truth?”

“I didn’t cheat him, Graciela. If anything, he received a higher percentage than he really deserved, simply because I’d hoped to keep him from squawking at me and interfering with the way I felt our deals should be run. But, well . . . he refused to believe me. He said that he’d ruin me for what I did.”

“And you turned the situation around.” Graciela allowed a hint of a smile. “Jarvis must have loathed that.”

“To put it mildly. I exposed him as a cheater and left him mostly desolate. At least, he couldn’t operate his legitimate business anymore. He was forced into dealing solely in . . . shall we say, other channels. He still made good money, but he hated being restricted in anything.”

Graciela could imagine what other channels. “. . . And he was so filled with hate that he was willing to torment me because he thought it would hurt you?” she breathed.

“More than.” Emil’s voice hardened. “That may be why he targeted you in the first place. Although it wouldn’t surprise me if he just did that sort of thing with any women who caught his fancy, thinking it was fun.”

Graciela shuddered. “How would he have known? That it would hurt you, I mean.”

“Oh . . .” Emil sighed. “He must have just guessed. Idle gossip, I suppose.”

Graciela finished the bandaging and tied it. “Have people been talking about us in town?”

Emil smirked, his first real sign of levity all evening. “I’ve heard a few things here and there.”

Graciela gave him an unimpressed look as she turned her attention to the cut on his cheek. “Were you planning to tell me?”

“I just assumed you’d heard them too.”

Graciela sighed in exasperation. “I haven’t heard anything.”

“The town biddies must have been too afraid to tell you then,” said Emil.

“It’s that bad?”

“Well . . .” Emil cleared his throat. He drew his arm back, examining the dressing. “You make a good nurse.”

“You’re changing the subject. Are you afraid too?”

Emil smiled. “What if I am?”

Graciela rolled her eyes. “Emil . . .”

“Alright, alright. They’re saying that we’re engaged. That’s not too surprising in and of itself. What baffles me is that they’re also saying that you’re trying to convince me to join the rebellion so these secret stocks of weapons I have will go to you. And they think that you’re the one who wants the marriage, and for political reasons.”

Graciela leaned back from cleaning the superficial cut with an alcohol-dabbed cloth. “You’re right,” she said, perfectly calm. “They will say anything.”

Emil raised an eyebrow. “You’re not upset?”

“I don’t know what good it would do to get upset,” Graciela said. “The damage has been done. And those biddies believe whatever they want to, anyway. They would find this absolutely scandalous.”

“You mean me being in your house in the middle of the night and you still only half-dressed in a torn gown,” Emil said.

A slight smile tugged on Graciela’s lips. “Yes. And I’m sure that by morning, several versions of what happened will be circulating all over town.”

“And that honestly doesn’t bother you.”

“If they try to say that you were part of the assaulting party, instead of being against them, that will bother me.” Graciela looked to him, perfectly sober now. “As soon as I realized what they wanted, I knew you never would have sent them.”

Emil looked back. “I’m glad you had that much confidence in me.”

“. . . I’m not sure why I did,” Graciela admitted. “Especially after you’ve continued to negatively surprise me with some of your revelations about your past.” She shook her head. “But even considering all of that, I could not bring myself to think that you would support such vile creatures.”

She straightened. “And now I’m going to draw a bath,” she declared. “Speaking of torn gowns, I can’t stand it for another minute. Those men made me feel so filthy.”

Emil stood. “Then I’ll leave so you can have your privacy. Unless . . .” He paused, concern flickering in his eyes.

“What is it?” Graciela asked.

“Well . . . I don’t think it would happen, but I suppose there’s always the chance that Jarvis’s number two man might track us here and attack you as revenge for my killing his cronies.”

Graciela was suddenly troubled too. “You’re not only saying that so you can stay,” she said, despite not really believing her words.

“No, I’m not. I’m honestly worried, even if the chance is slim.”

Graciela weighed the possibilities before speaking again. “. . . It would not be hard to learn where I live,” she said.

Emil nodded. “Most people know. Your family was very prominent here.”

“Then . . . if you don’t mind . . .” Graciela drew a deep breath. “Please stay, just for a short while. I will be in another part of the house.”

“I’ll be right here,” Emil assured her.

He could see the relief coming into her eyes. “Thank you,” she said as she took up the bowl and the cloth and hastened out of the room.

Emil walked around the room, discreetly peering out the covered window before returning to the chair and sinking into it. The street looked empty. There probably wasn’t any danger. But he felt better to be on watch, anyway.

“Well, Emil. Seems maybe I misjudged you a mite.”

Emil leaped a mile into the air. He spun around, staring in utter disbelief. Over near the doors, looking somehow both nonchalant and pleased, was Crockett.

Emil groaned, rubbing his eyes. “You’re here, too?”

“I’ve been traveling everywhere that was important to me when I was alive. Flaca’s home makes that list.”

“Yes, I suppose it would.” Emil stared uneasily into the fire. “Are you planning to stay?”

“Oh, don’t worry; I won’t get in the way when Flaca comes back. I’ll go.” He paused. “Will you be standing guard all night long?”

Emil shrugged. “If that is what Graciela wants.”

Crockett nodded, pushing himself from the doors. “. . . I saw what those jackals were doing to her,” he said, his voice darkening in a way Emil had never heard from him before. “More than anything, I wanted to go to her, to help her, to get her away from them. But I’ve passed beyond all that now; there was nothing I could do.

“I didn’t ever think I’d be so glad to see you turn up.”

“Graciela is lucky I was in the area.”

“Yes, she was.” Crockett smiled. “I think I can feel peaceful about her being around you for a while. You won’t hurt her.”

Emil looked up, about to reply, but Crockett had vanished. Shaking his head, Emil turned away, looking back to the fire.

He was lost in his thoughts until he heard footsteps nearing him. Glancing up again, he watched as Graciela re-entered the room, fresh from her bath and smelling of lavender and jasmine.

She smiled at him. “Everything is peaceful?”

“It has been so far,” Emil answered. He had never told her of his visions of Crockett’s ghost. He was unsure if he ever would. He wouldn’t have told Father Fuentes if he hadn’t been under such stress and the Father had managed to drag it out of him.

She sat back down. “You are certainly free to go,” she said as she sobered. “Thank you for staying, but you should go home and get a proper rest. I’m sure that man won’t come here.”

“I suppose I should go before it’s daylight and I’ll be seen for sure,” Emil remarked.

But they both kept sitting where they were, looking at each other across the firelight, trying to determine what to think about so many things.

“. . . How did you find me?” Graciela asked after a moment.

“Believe it or not, I’d decided to go to the rally after all,” Emil said. “When I found it was over, I was going to walk along the path to your house and see if I could catch up with you. The bartender stopped me and told me he’d heard Jarvis and his crew making plans to do the same. He knows their reputation better than I did a few hours ago. He was worried. As soon as I knew they were going after you, I was too.”

She shuddered. “And you had good reason to be.”

The silence hung between them again. Emil’s gaze turned to his bandaged arm. Graciela watched him looking at the material.

“You were actually a very good patient,” she remarked.

“You expected different?”

“I don’t know what I expected, if anything.” Graciela shook her head. “I was too overwhelmed to stop and think about that.”

“Well, just be relieved you weren’t treating me several weeks ago,” Emil said wryly.

Graciela quirked an eyebrow. “You weren’t a good patient then?”

“Oh, hardly. You know the stories you hear about the most uncooperative and demanding and difficult patients? I took them to a new level.”

“I pity anyone who dealt with you in such ill moods.”

“Frankly, I don’t know how anyone stood it.”

“Considering how insufferable I already know you can be, I wonder too.”

“Come now, Graciela, you haven’t begun to see how insufferable I can be.”

Graciela did not answer. Emil blinked in surprise and a bit of discomfort as she studied him, her eyes thoughtful. “What is it?” he queried at last. “I’m not frightening you, I hope.”

“I’m just thinking about what a mystery you are,” Graciela said. “I reviled you when you came back to San Antonio, and I’ve believed for so long that I still do. Now I have to face that you are still a dear friend to me. And you care for me as well, even if you’re not as sure of your feelings.”

“I’m sure by now,” Emil said. “Yes, I care about you, Graciela. Deep down, I guess I always have. But you’d never want someone like me. You said it yourself. I’m a scoundrel, a ruthless businessman, with no foundation and no loyalty to political causes.”

Graciela was silent for a long moment. At last she stood, crossing the space between them and kneeling again by his chair.

“You’re a good man, Emil Sande,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t have believed it several weeks ago, but it’s the truth. And . . . well, perhaps there are things more important to be loyal to than political causes. You have loyalty to me. That means more to me than if you joined the cause.”

Emil stared at her in astonishment and disbelief. “Then . . . then maybe . . .”

Graciela placed a finger to his lips. “I think I do love you,” she said softly, “but I don’t want to rush into anything. Why don’t we work on our friendship first and see what happens?”

Emil nodded, still in stunned shock and awe. “That’s more than I could have ever hoped for.”

Graciela smiled, kissing him on the cheek.
****
The night was long and cold, and thankfully silent. Emil lingered a while longer, convincing himself that he was just keeping watch as promised. Instead of recommending that he leave, Graciela voiced no such encouragement. She offered him something to eat. He gratefully accepted. Suddenly he was not sure when he had eaten last. They sat at the table, snacking and talking by candlelight.

“There’s going to be a dreadful scandal in the morning, if anyone sees the candles burning so late,” Graciela remarked.

“Oh, let there be a scandal,” Emil said. “No one would know what it meant, anyway. For all they’d know, you stayed up late making plans for your land or another speech.”

“I suppose. Perhaps no one will see the light, anyway. Most respectable people are asleep by now.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Won’t your servants be wondering where you’re keeping yourself?”

Emil shrugged. “Maybe somewhat. But I’ve come home late before.”

“After being with women?” Graciela raised an eyebrow.

“No, no. When I’m closing business deals, mostly.”

“Merchants keep strange hours.”

“Only sometimes.”

Graciela fell silent. “The boy, Paco. How did he end up working for you?”

Emil pushed the plate aside and leaned back in the chair. “Oh. That. Well . . .” He adopted a nonchalant air. “There’s nothing much to tell, really. I took on his whole family. His parents died later and Paco stayed. It’s not as though he had anywhere else to go.”

“I’m starting to think that when you are particularly blasé, it is because there is much more to be told,” Graciela said. “How did his parents die?”

“They hadn’t been in good health for a while. Then there was some epidemic and they both came down with it.”

“You kept them on when they weren’t in good health?” Graciela shook her head. “That doesn’t sound like proper business sense to me.”

“You would have been amazed by how much they could get done,” Emil said. “They might not have come down so ill if they hadn’t overworked themselves.”

Her eyes flickered. “You didn’t overwork them, did you?”

Emil looked away. “No. No, the problem was that their previous employer had badly overworked them. By the time they came to work for me, they were so used to it that they didn’t feel right if they didn’t give more than their all.”

Graciela slowly nodded. “. . . But did you ever tell them they should slow down?”

“. . . I complimented them on their efficiency. I said they could do more in two hours than four other servants could do in half a day.” Emil sighed, gazing up at the ceiling. “No, I never really told them to slow down. Of course, I didn’t really understand how sick they were. They hid it well.”

“You seem regretful.”

“I suppose I just wonder if they would have lived longer if I had grasped the problem and encouraged them to take it easy sometimes. I was too caught up in thoughts of business. I couldn’t care less for the problems of people, unless they affected my affairs. And right then, theirs didn’t.”

Graciela looked down. “. . . When I met Paco, I had the feeling that he likes you.”

“He’s just grateful I keep him around,” Emil said with a wave of his hand. “He’s been developing the same work ethic as his parents, so he’s been very useful.”

She raised her eyes again. “Is that what you honestly believe?”

“. . . It’s a habit after so long. I can’t comprehend that anyone truly cares about me, so I come up with other, logical-sounding explanations for anything that seems like they do.” Emil shook his head. “It’s hard for me to adjust to ideas to the contrary.

“And yet . . . yet I know that the people who took care of me while I was so near death, including Paco, did care. Somehow, unbelievably, the life of a man who cared for nothing other than himself and his money meant something to them.” His voice was hushed, awed. “In Paco’s case, he most certainly could have left. You’d offered him a job. And you would be a much more pleasant person to work for, I’m sure. But he stayed with me. Maybe more out of loyalty than anything else, but he’s stayed.”

“And his and their caring has in turn transformed the man who cared for nothing other than himself and his money.” Graciela’s voice was quiet too. “But that transformation unlocked a part of you that already existed. You’ve even admitted that you feel you always cared for me, somehow, even under all of your ruthlessness.”

“. . . As I said, I don’t know who I am anymore, Graciela.” Emil stared into the distance. “I’m still a good businessman. I want to be. But now that I’ve really realized that there are still good people in the world, I want to do right by them. I just wonder if I can balance both things.”

“There are many good businessmen who care about people,” Graciela said. “You can be one of them.”

“And then as you say, I can be insufferable.” Emil gave her a dark smirk.

“I daresay that will always be part of who you are,” Graciela said. “You were a tease as a boy, too.”

“You remember that?”

“Oh, very well.” Graciela shook her head. “You vanished into the brush and made me look for you. And when I started to become worried that something had happened to you, you suddenly pounced and we fell to the ground.”

“You were so angry,” Emil chuckled. “But it didn’t last long.”

“No; soon I was laughing and playing with you again.” Graciela smiled at the memory.

“What happened to us, Graciela?”

Graciela looked to Emil in surprise. Now he sounded so far away, so melancholy.

“We’re so different from who we were when the world seemed like such a perfect adventure. We were so wide-eyed and innocent. Now you’ve become an idealistic revolutionary while I’m a cynical merchant.”

“. . . I suppose we both grew up,” Graciela said softly.

“And so differently. Our paths took us on such varied trails. And now here we are, having met on one of them again.”

Graciela nodded. “I’m glad. And I hope . . .” She trailed off.

“What?”

For a moment she was silent, debating over whether she wanted to finish the sentence. But then she said, “I hope that our paths won’t grow apart again.”

Emil was still filled with amazement over all that had happened in the last few hours and everything that Graciela had revealed to him. This admission only added to his feelings.

“Maybe,” he said, “they won’t.”