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In memory of*

Isle of Skye, Scotland

22nd April 2021

Following a long walk against the wind, under the rain I could feel to the bones, I have found myself standing on the edge of the cliff. Wind continued to blow in the same direction, but now with a renewed force, as if it intended to call a halt, to move my body back to a safe place. At my back, a neat green lawn, which only constant rain could have produced. In front, my possible destiny, the void. Infinite grey rocks at its blurry end, which should smash my head, and as a consequence, my sorrow.

Whereas tears have not ceased to fall for a decade, I have felt one of them slowly sliding on the corner of my mouth. Perhaps this was the way my sadness made its farewell, with its very long, slow and wet kiss, with its form and flavour of salty tears.

Suddenly, I felt somebody else’s presence; two kids of colour, around four-year-old, were running into me with curiosity. Having stopped very close yet at a safe distance from the cliff, they stood there watching me. They were looking at me attentively again and again, and I saw in their eyes they didn’t understand what was happening yet intuitively knew something was wrong here, that the situation was serious.

In a little while, two teenagers arrived, Stuart and Georgina, who later introduced themselves as siblings. Stuart was the older one. After a few seconds of silence, the younger said:

-Hiya, I’m Georgina.

She immediately extended her hand in the novice’s act of negotiation. I didn’t respond with a handshake, but instead turned my gaze again at the void, of which end seemed rather harsh and dangerous this time. My sorrow turned into anger; ‘why is it often so difficult to stay alone and have a moment of privacy?!’

Then, Neville arrived at the scene with no rush, calmly and with a harsh voice of Caribbean accent said:

- Turn around, I want to see your eyes.

I couldn’t believe in such an invasion of privacy; this family seemed more stubborn than YouTube premium adverts. I turned my gaze, furious, I looked towards that harsh voice of a weird accent. The instant I saw Neville, I knew he comprehended, that he was suffering from the same pain, I felt my look changing, now to a semblance of an unprotected lad, looking for solace. Through sheer reflex, my arm extended towards Georgina, whose hand was patiently waiting there in the air. When our hands met, she pulled me abruptly and we both fell on the green and neat lawn.

The four guys ran into us to embrace me.

Mexico City


Dan woke up with a terrible headache and dry mouth. Children have already spent a couple of hours alone, fighting, screaming and playing. Before anything, they could eat a horse. Emily’s [the eldest sister’s] failed attempt to prepare scrambled eggs ended up only with a huge disaster in the kitchen.

Dan didn’t quite remember half of the last night’s party, and less even, how he got home. Laura, his wife, instead of in bed was found on a single sofa in the small studio. Still asleep, amid a disaster of monstrous scale, even larger than the kitchen’s. The worst however was that sickening smell, which reminded him of a stop by the street food goat-meet broth. He closed the door and wished Laura luck for when she wakes up.

He dressed quickly in sweatpants and took children to Mexico Park, two blocks from them, to eat something quick outside, to feel alive again. Children requested hot cakes with loads of honey, knowing that their father, in the state he was in, couldn’t bear the smell even if for a moment. Dan ordered extra hot chilaquiles[1] with green salsa.

On that day Steve, nearly four-year-old, learned how to ride a bike. When he did it for the first time, he shouted:

- Mama, mama, I did it!

- Hahaha, mama isn’t here, plonker! But you can tell your dad – said Emily.

- Buddy, I knew you’d make it. I’m so proud of you?

Steve kept pedalling; deep inside he liked that his dad saw him and supported him. Yet he could not get why mum so often was not there.

Upon their return home, Laura was waiting for them, has already had her shower and was surrounded by a strong lavender scent of her perfumes. The house smelled of a cheap removing odours spray, of Mediterranean waves.

-How are you doing my loves?

- You’ve missed it, mum.

- What’s happened?

- Tell her, Steve.

- What have I missed?

- (silence)

- Tell her, dad.

- Well, Steve already knows how to ride a bike.

- Wow, amazing news.

Steve dropped his bike and run upstairs to his bedroom. All he wanted was to be alone and cried out until he fell asleep.

Coyoacán, Mexico City

22nd April 2021, circa 6pm

Just as Paco, his friend, requested, he arrived at the centre of Coyoacán (a borough in the south of Mexico City) in a company of his sister, Emily. The siblings never liked to take the tube, in particular she couldn’t bear the persistent stare of nearly every male tube passenger; each of them was staring at her like only a dirty old man does. She kept breathing & walking fast; at least they didn’t yell at her with Steve by her side.

They arrived a little later than Paco. He was always on time, so unusual for a Mexican, but on that day it took him much longer to leave given his meticulous haircut, resembling a Rockstar from the ‘50s, including his scent of lavender perfumes: he never knew why but that smell was his favourite one.

-Hiya Elvis – said Emily bursting with laughter.

Her comment made Paco blush, but despite his embarrassment, he winked when smiling at her, revealing his tiny dimples in his cheeks. This time he made Emily blush.

- You two stop being silly, let’s go for a coffee.

They got into Sanborns[2] and ordered three cups of americano plus one order of mollete sandwiches to share. That’s about what they could afford.

Paco and Emily didn’t stop smiling at each other and exchanging the telling looks: tired of their lovebirds’ games, Steve dropped abruptly:

- Architecture.

- WHAT?!?!?! – replied both in unison.

- Since when do you like it?

- No shit, you don’t even know how to jack off, and now you pretend to build a mock-up?

Soon Paco realised what he’s just said; Emily’s look transformed in an instant and since that moment her gaze turned into her mobile and hasn’t stopped sending texts. She became absent and moved to another online chat.

- Yeah, imagine that. My first project will be to rebuild the whole UNAM (the National Autonomous University of Mexico), it’s just about the time, you know what I mean?

- Pffff, it wasn’t Oxford, because then the old would be cool, right?

- Oh, wait.

- What else is in your plans?

- Well, my main project will be to design a new Aztec stadium.

- You’ve got to be kidding me, so that now it will be bigger than Maracaná

- Yeah way, Wembley would look like a wee one. I will build a new football cathedral man.

They coincided in favour of UNAM Pumas football team, but when their chat moved to Premier League their sharp debate was never ending. Paco cheered Arsenal, whereas Steve, under his father’s influence since early years, was a super fan of Manchester United.

- I’m off, Mati is picking me up. Don’t forget to arrive home early. Today our parents will be there waiting for us. See you at 10:29pm at the main entrance. We will be entering together; you know what I mean?

Emily sent a good-bye kiss; Paco was left downcast. He knew he made a cock up: how on earth he scored his own goal speaking about jacking off first and then, even worse, he buried himself in this absurd discussion about football.

- Well man, it is what it is, let’s go home. At least we’ll play FIFA.

Mexico City


Dan was an average marketer when he was offered a job with a re-location package, based in Mexico City. The marketing agency, a hub for many highly-skilled professionals, was looking for someone whose English had that magic BBC accent and was ideally white: prior to the ’86 World Cup they needed to level their status up internationally.

Laura didn’t worry too much, she knew she’d find something quickly, even as an English teacher. In the end, everyone needs to speak English.

They took their decision on the 6th of April; Manchester weather were as usual wet, cold, windy, but before anything, grey. Exhausted, both shouted in unison:

Let’s go where the sunshine!

They arrived only a month before the World Cup Mexico ’86 started.

Coyoacán, Mexico City

22nd of April 2011, circa 8pm

Paco’s home was on the México ‘86 Avenue, an old building with a style and to a certain extent well-maintained. They opened 2-pint-bottle of Coca-Cola, Sabritones crisps with lime and Paco started smoking Delicados[3] cigarettes. He was one of a very few Steve’s friends who was allowed to smoke in front of his parents and, as Paco used to say, every football match was too stressful for him, so he needed to smoke like a chimney while playing FIFA.

Steve always wanted to play as Mexico, as if he wanted to make it very clear that, despite having his British parents, he couldn’t be more authentic Mexican. Surely, Paco used to select England, to make Steve even more pissed off when defeated.

Following two warming-up matches, without exception, the time to place a bet has arrived.

- The looser invites tacos.

There was a turn of a grand match, Manchester United vs. Arsenal.

The game was very tight. When Rooney stood up to score to confirm Manchester’s win, Paco’s dad came from nowhere and turned the game console abruptly off.

- What are you doing here? It’s already past 10 o’clock.

- I haven’t realised, Mr Rogelio.

- Dad, I’m going to Steve’s home, we’ll order a pizza. Or even better, we’ll go for some tacos.

- Right, look after yourself and hurry up!

- See you, sir.

- See you Steve, regards to your parents.

Mexico City

13th September 1992

Last two weeks have been particularly challenging for Laura, with painful ribs, never-ending exhaustion, and the absolute worst was when she intended to walk: every step was as if two machetes cut her pubic area off.

She was about to finish her second glass of bubbles. She used to say it was the only relaxing thing that worked for her and was allowed – or at least well-seen- where she came from. All of a sudden, she opened her eyes with all her strength and remained still.

- What’s up? – asked Dan.

She said nothing, but it was obvious that the day has come. Dan left to drop Emily off with the neighbours, who will be looking after her. They didn’t know that 19 years later they will be the ones to offer Emily solace.

- Hope all goes well. Best of luck.

After dropping Emily off, he left again, this time to catch a taxi and, largely predictably, quickly got to hail a green eco beetle.

- Y’right mate? – said with his clumsy English accent – my woman is about to give birth. I’ll come back with her. It won’t be long. To Mexico Hospital.

- Sure sir, I’ll be waiting here.

Laura was lying on the floor with immense pain, but still, she took her last sip and said:

- Take me there now, scumbag!

Hours later, a midwife left the operating theatre.

- Congratulations, it’s a boy. The mother and baby are well.

Dan has only recalled that he smiled. He hadn’t wanted to see Laura given his fear of blood. As he had known it was a long wait, he was better off to Diente de León pub; this place was fit to have a think about his newborn’s name.

- Steve, Laura would like this one – he mumbled to himself.

- The baby’s name is Steve! – he shouted out to the midwife.

Mexico City

22nd of April 2011, circa 10:15pm

Two friends run towards the tube station, knowing they were late. On top of everything, it was Friday the payday.

- Mate, and how about we take a taxi?

- No way mate, too expensive.

- Yep, but look, I promised to arrive early. Emily will be furious.

- Right, let it be so.

They hailed a green eco beetle that has seen his better days long ago; though it was probably unlicensed, the driver’s face seemed friendly.

- What’s up my blondie[4], you take it or…?

They entered the taxi, soon to realise that they’ll be late anyway with this hell of a traffic. They tried to call Emily to let her know they’ll be late, but without success; her mobile’s battery was dead, given her long online chats.

- You know what my blondie?

Steve detested this way of addressing him, always blushing as a result.

- What’s up? – replied

- I feel I’ve seen you before, haven’t I driven you before?

- Nop. Not that I’m aware of.

The lads started to discuss the match they’ve just played, best shots and all the detail. In regard to the last play, they debated whether Manchester should have been pronounced a winner or they should have gone overtime.

- Has Manchester played today?

The taxi driver didn’t stop interfering with their conversation, slowly gaining their attention, and at some point, the conversation nearly turned into his monologue.

- …and suddenly, I’m hailed by a Mr real blondie, much like you, blondie, and he says: - Mate, my wife be pregnant, take us the hospital - you know, with this funny gringo[5] accent. Well you know what I mean, what could I do, I waited for them and after a while his wife came downstairs, a lovely blondie bursting with pain. It seemed one of them was a bit drunk, but you know what I mean, I drove as fast as I could to the hospital, and when we arrived that mate says ‘Wait a moment, I need you take me to another place’. It took him a while, but he returned, and I don’t remember where I took him next. This must have been about 15 years ago or so. No, wait, man, it had to be around 20 years ago. Sure, you weren’t on this planet yet.

Steve looked at the taximeter and then at Paco.

- It’s ok, sir. We will get out here.

- But we haven’t arrived yet.

- We’re running out of money.

- We’re close, it’s all right mate.

- No, it’s ok, we’ll run from here. I bet we’ll arrive faster.

They got out of the taxi on the crossroads between Monterrey and Tepic, and Paco’s look suggested they went to ‘Parados’ (a well-known tacos street food to be eaten standing), they were only a hundred yards away. In fact, he started walking towards that direction.

- What the fuck are you doing, it’s very late and we are out of money. Come on!

In that instant Steve saw a rottweiler on the pavement in front, with his intimidating and aggressive look yet as if the animal was sending him a strange warning sign.

Steve only felt shivering and a lump in his throat.

London, UK

16th April 2016

…we have made our absolutely best effort, including assigning our most-talented international lawyers, and we have spared no expense to assign appropriate resources. In 30 years of my experience, I’ve never seen any similar endeavour. Unfortunately, I regret to say, the case is now closed, we have not found manners for the defendants to be remanded.

My sympathies.

Condesa, Mexico City

22nd of April 2011, after 10:29pm

Emily was furious. It was very clear that Steve should have arrived earlier so they could have entered home together. Now what is she meant to do? If she enters alone, what is she going to say, how on earth is she going to explain where Steve was, and where she’s been today? If she stayed outside, it’d have gotten even later, and she will be told off anyway.

She decided not to enter. It was getting later and later, and her anger turned into worry; her intuition was telling her something was not right, was actually very bad. She bursted out crying, kneeling down just next to the rose bush on the grass area in front of their home. She felt a cold air in her veins, now she was crying hysterically, foretelling a very dark future, a family tragedy that will have marked them forever.

The neighbours, those who were babysitting her since she was little, saw her from afar, run into her to comfort her.

- It’ll be all right. We will always be there for you.

Mexico City

22nd of April 2011, when his time arrived.

Steve only felt shivering and a lump in his throat.

- Fucking gringo.

- You son of the beach.

- Now you’re fucked up.

- Welcome to the real world motherfucking white scum.

Everything happened in a few seconds. Five teenagers crossed the street running, yelled at Steve, threw him on the floor, and while kicking him, stabbed him twice with precision, first one in the shoulder and the second, in the collar bone up until it performed his lung. Afterwards, they run away.

Paco lifted Steve and yelled at him to run, to run as fast as he could; Steve run while asking himself what was wrong with him; they run together nearly a hundred yards until Steve faded out. Falling down, he was already almost in another life.

The rottweiler saw them running and, without changing his murderous look, now had tears in his eyes.

- Satan!

The dog obeyed and run with the five teenagers.

London, UK

16th of April 2016, nightime

Laura stayed alone in a hotel room; after another argument with Dan. She couldn’t bear that feeling of hopelessness and with a glass of whisky in her hand, she started to sing, with her voice breaking with a cry:

Mum is waiting, my little boy.

Mum is taking care of you, my beautiful boy.

I will be waiting for you,

I will protect you; no one ever will hurt you.

Mum is sad, because she does not have you anymore.

Mum is crying, because she didn’t say goodbye.

They took away everything I had.

They have stolen everything from me, even my little boy’s life.

Mum is crying, and your name is in every teardrop,

Mum is waiting for you; she knows you’ll be coming back.

Crying, crying, crying.

For this sorrow, I should take my own life.

Isle of Skye, Scotland

22nd of April 2021

Once Dan became much calmer, was invited for a cuppa, and they talked. They talked about the importance of confronting the systems, which allow murdering innocent people, who are assassinated because of their visual aspects, and that these murders are left unpunished. They talked about the importance of not generating race-based hate or scapegoating other nationalities. They talked about how differences, diversity and tolerance enrich any community. They talked about fighting for a better and safer place for all.

They also talked about the empathy towards the other, and the importance of not staying silent.

*Text translated, reviewed and copy-edited by Gosia Polanska (Mojek) [1] A delicious Mexican meal, usually for breakfast (even better for hangover), full of toasted pieces of crunchy tortilla, topped with onion, cream, coriander, optional chicken and-or egg, in green or red salsa. [2] Famous Mexican restaurant chain. [3] Mexican brand of cheap cigarettes without filter. [4] El guëro (lit. the blondie, masculine -o), a common Mexican way to address nearly every foreign they meet, in particular on the street in commercial context. [5] Gringo: Mex. lit. American, used commonly as: foreigner, informal, often offensive.

En memoria de

Skye, Escocia

22 de abril de 2021

Después de una larga caminata donde el viento incomodaba y la lluvia humedecía hasta los huesos; me encontraba ahí, parado justo en la orilla de un peñasco; el viento continuaba soplando, pero ahora lo hacía con mayor fuerza, como si quisiera detenerme para que estuviera en un lugar seguro. A mis espaldas estaba un césped pulcro y con ese verde tan especial, que tan solo una constante lluvia llega a producir. De frente, tenía a mi potencial destino; la nada. Terminaba en infinitas rocas grises, las cuales deberían destrozar mi cabeza, y con ello; mis pesares.

Si bien las lágrimas prácticamente no habían parado de rodar desde hace ya una década; ahora, sentía que una de ellas se deslizaba muy lento por la comisura de mis labios, tal vez, era la manera con la que mi tristeza me despedía. Con un beso largo, lento y húmedo; con una forma y sabor a lágrimas de sal.

Presentí a alguien más; cerca de mí, estaban dos niños de color, de unos cuatro años; corrían curiosos hacia mí, y se detuvieron cerca, pero en un lugar seguro; tan solo me observaban. Miraban y volvían a mirar, estaban atentos y por sus ojos, sabía que los pequeños no entendían que me pasaba, pero si intuían que algo andaba mal; sabían que estaban frente a una situación muy seria.

Poco después, llegaron corriendo quienes luego se presentarían como Stuart y Georgina; ellos eran hermanos y eran adolescentes. Stuart, era un poco mayor. Por unos segundos quedaron callados y después ella me dijo:

-Hola, soy Georgina.

Me estiró la mano en un acto burdo de negociación de principiante; yo, no le regrese el saludo; volteé la cara y volví a ver hacia la nada; esta vez su terminación me pareció más áspera y peligrosa. Mi tristeza se había convertido en enojo, a veces es tan difícil estar solo y tener un momento de privacidad.

Neville, llegó a la escena sin prisa, calmado y con una voz áspera con acento caribeño dijo:

-Voltea, quiero ver tus ojos.

No podía creer tanta intromisión; aquella familia era más terca que un anuncio de YouTube premium. Volteé mi mirada, enfurecido miré hacia esa voz áspera y de acento raro. Al instante de ver a Neville a los ojos, supe que él me comprendía, que él sufría de mí mismo dolor; sentí como mi mirada cambio; ahora, era la de un chico desprotegido en busca de consuelo. Como acto reflejo, extendí la mano hacia Georgina, que me había esperado paciente; en cuanto juntamos las manos, me dio un tirón y fuimos a caer a aquel césped verde y pulcro.

Los cuatro hombres corrieron también a abrazarme.

Ciudad de México


Dan se había levantado con un terrible dolor de cabeza y la boca reseca, los niños ya llevaban par de horas solos, peleándose, gritándose y jugando. Pero sobre todo con mucha hambre. El intento fallido de la hermana mayor -Emily- por preparar unos huevos revueltos, tan solo resultó en un desastre colosal en la cocina.

Dan no recordaba la mitad de la fiesta de la noche anterior, y menos, como había llegado a la casa; su esposa Laura no estaba en la cama, pero la fue a encontrar en el sofá de la pequeña oficina. Aún estaba dormida y el desastre de la oficina era mayor que el de la cocina. Lo peor era ese olor nauseabundo -el cual le recordó que en algún momento antes de llegar, pasaron por una birria-. Cerró la puerta y le deseó suerte a Laura para cuando despertara.

Tan solo se puso unos pants y fue con los niños al parque México; estaba a dos cuadras y ahí podría comer algo rápido, algo que lo volviera a la vida. Los niños pidieron unos hot cakes con mucha miel, sabían que, en ese estado, su papá no los podría soportar ni en pintura. Dan se pidió unos chilaquiles verdes bien picosos.

Ese día Steve de casi cuatro años, aprendió a andar en bicicleta; cuando lo logró por primera vez, tan solo gritó:

-Mamá, mamá. ¡Ya pude!

-Jajaja, mamá no está aquí bestialdo. Pero le puedes decir a papá -dijo Emily-

-Campeón, sabía que lo harías. Estoy muy orgulloso.

Steve siguió pedaleando, en el fondo, le gustaba que su papá lo viera y apoyara. Lo que no lograba comprender, era por qué mamá se ausentaba tantas veces.

Al llegar a casa, ahí estaba Laura esperándolos; estaba bañada y oliendo a perfume de lavanda; la casa, ahora olía a un cubre olores barato con olor a olas del mediterráneo.

-Hola amores

-Te lo perdiste mamá.

- ¿Pero qué paso?

-Dile Steve

- ¿Qué me perdí?

-Dile entonces tu papá

-Pues Steve ya sabe andar en bicicleta.

-Wow, esa es una noticia fantástica.

Steve, tan solo aventó la bicicleta y corrió hacia su cuarto; quería estar solo y llorar hasta quedarse dormido.

Coyoacán, Ciudad de México

22 de abril 2011, alrededor de las 6pm

Como se lo había pedido Paco, su amigo, fue al centro de Coyoacán acompañado de su hermana Emily. A los dos hermanos, no les gustaba viajar en metro, especialmente a ella, no soportaba las miradas constantes de prácticamente cada hombre que pasaba, cada uno de ellos la volteaba a ver de una manera lasciva; ella, tan solo respiraba y continuaba caminado; al menos cuando Steve la acompañaba, no le gritaban.

Llegaron un poco antes que Paco; él solía ser extremadamente puntual para ser mexicano; pero ese día había tardado ya que se había peinado meticulosamente, como si fuera una estrella de rock de los 50’s, incluso se había puesto un perfume olor a lavanda; nunca supo porque, pero ese olor le gustaba demasiado.

-Qué onda mi Elvis, - dijo Emily mientras soltaba una carcajada. -

Paco se sonrojo y aunque estaba un tanto avergonzado, pudo hacer un guiño mientras sonreía discretamente; se le marcaron dos diminutos hoyitos en los cachetes. Esta vez, era Emily la que se sonrojaba.

-Ya par de payasos, vamos por un café.

Entraron al Sanborns y pidieron tres americanos y unos molletes para compartir. Era para lo que les alcanzaba.

Paco y Emily no dejaban de sonreírse al intercambiar rápidas miradas y cansado de ese juego de tortolitos, Steve dijo:

- Arquitectura.

- ¿Que? -dijeron los otros dos-

- ¿De cuándo a acá te gusta eso?

- ¿No mames, tu ni una chaqueta te sabes hacer y así quieres hacer maquetas?

Pronto, Paco se dio cuenta de lo que había dicho; tan solo sintió la mirada de Emily; que a partir de ese momento tomó su celular y no paró de mandar mensajes. Se ausentó a través de una conversación virtual e improvisada.

-Si, imagínate. Mi primer proyecto será rehacer toda la UNAM, ya le falta una rejuvenecida.

-Uy no sea Oxford, por que entonces lo viejo si esta chido.

-Oh, espérate

- ¿Y qué más vas a hacer?

-Pues mi proyecto maestro será diseñar el nuevo estadio Azteca

-No mames, pero ahora si que sea mas grande que el Maracaná

-A huevo, y Wembley se va a quedar pendejo. Voy a hacer la nueva catedral del futbol.

Coincidían en ser de los Pumas de la UNAM, pero cuando hablaban de la Premier League, el debate era eterno; Paco velaba por los intereses del Arsenal y Steve habiendo sido adoctrinado desde pequeño por su padre; era hincha del Manchester United.

-Ya me voy; vino Mati por mí. Acuérdate de llegar temprano a casa. Hoy mis papas van a estar ahí esperándonos. Nos vemos a las 10:29pm afuera de casa. Entramos juntos. ¿OK?

Emily se despidió con un beso volado; Paco, se quedó cabizbajo, sabía que la había cagado; como se le había ocurrido decir la palabra chaqueta y peor aún, enfrascarse en un debate absurdo de futbol.

-Ya pues, vámonos a casa. Vamos a jugar FIFA

Ciudad de México


Dan era un marketinero mediocre, pero había recibido una propuesta para ir a trabajar a la Ciudad de México, la agencia de marketing que le ofreció el relocation tenía muy buenos marketineros, pero necesitaban alguien que hablara inglés con acento de la BBC y que idealmente fuera blanco; ya que, en vísperas del mundial, un director de ese calibre daría a la agencia un estatus más internacional.

Laura, no se preocupaba mucho, sabía que encontraría algo rápidamente, podría ser profesora de inglés. Al fin y al cabo, todo mundo necesita hablar ese idioma.

La decisión la tomaron un 6 de abril; el clima en Manchester era como siempre; lluvioso, frio, con viento y sobre todo, gris. Cansados, los dos gritaron al unísono:

- ¡Vámonos al sol!

Llegaron justo un mes antes de que comenzara el mundial México 86.

Coyoacán, Ciudad de México

22 de abril 2011, alrededor de las 8pm

La casa de Paco estaba justo en avenida México 86, un edificio viejo, pero con estilo y hasta cierto punto bien conservado. Abrieron una coca cola de 2 litros, unos sabritones con limón y Paco saco su paquete de delicados; era de los pocos amigos de Steve que podía fumar delante de sus padres; y como decía Paco, cada partido le estresaba demasiado; así que fumaba como chacuaco mientras jugaba FIFA

Steve siempre pedía ser México, era como si quisiera dejar bien claro que, a pesar de tener padres ingleses, el era mas mexicano que el mole. Obviamente, Paco seleccionaba Inglaterra, así el enojo de Steve al ser derrotado seria mayor.

Después de calentar con un par de partidos, invariablemente llegaba la apuesta.

-Quien pierda paga los tacos

Así, el gran partido llegaba, Manchester vs Arsenal.

Era un apretado 2-2 y justo cundo Rooney se estaba encarando para anotar el tanto de la victoria para Manchester, el papá de Paco apagó la consola.

- ¿Qué hacen aquí? Ya son pasadas las 10pm.

-No sabía señor Rogelio.

-Pa, me voy con Steve a su casa, ahí nos pediremos una pizza. O a lo mejor nos vamos por unos tacos.

-Dale, cuídense y apúrense

-Ciao Señor.

-Ciao Steve, me saludas a tus papás.

Salieron apresurados, Steve había prometido a su hermana llegar a tiempo.

Ciudad de México

13 de septiembre 1992

Para Laura las últimas dos semanas habían sido muy pesadas; dolores en las costillas, cansancio interminable y lo peor era al caminar; a cada paso sentía como si un par de machetes le cercenaran justo arribita del pubis.

Era su segunda copita de burbujas; decía que era lo único que la relajaba y estaba permitido -o al menos bien visto- allá, de donde ella venia. De pronto, tan solo abrió los ojos a mas no poder y se quedó inmóvil.

- ¿Qué pasa? -pregunto Dan-

No respondió, pero por su aspecto era evidente que el día había llegado. Dan salió para llevar a Emily con los vecinos, ellos serian los encargados de cuidarla; pero lo que no sabían; es que ellos serían quien consolarían a Emily 19 años más tarde.

-Que todo salga bien. Suerte

Después de dejar a Emily, salió de nuevo, esta vez a la calle, a buscar un taxi, y como era predecible, rápidamente logró parar a un vocho ecológico.

-Pinche guey -dijo con un torpe acento inglés- mi esposa estar por dar a luz. Voy por ella y luego nos lleva acá no más. Al hospital México.

-Dele mi jefe, acá los espero.

Laura estaba tirada en el suelo por el inmenso dolor, pero aun así tomó su último trago y dijo:

- ¡Ya llévame cabrón!

Horas después, salió una enfermera del quirófano.

-Felicidades, es un varón. Su esposa y el bebé están bien.

Dan solo recuerda que sonrió. No había querido entrar con Laura ya que la sangre lo espantaba; como sabia que la espera seria larga, mejor se fue al diente de León; ahí era un buen lugar para pensar en el nombre de su bebé.

-Steve. Si, le va a gustar a Laura -pensó-

-El bebé se llama Steve -alcanzó a gritarle a la enfermera-

Ciudad de México

22 de abril 2011, alrededor de las 10:15pm

Los amigos corrieron hacia el metro, sabían que iban tarde, además era un viernes de quincena.

-Guey, y si tomamos un taxi.

-No mames, nos va a salir bien caro.

-Pos sip, pero quedé de llegar tempra. La Emily se va a reemputar.

-Pos dale.

Pararon un vocho ecológico, ya estaba muy traqueteado y si bien pensaron que era pirata; la cara del taxista les pareció amigable.

-Que pasó mi güero, ¿se suben o no?