Chapter Text
I still remember how Javier Peña came into my life.
It was one of those English lessons that you didn't do any language work at all but that would stay with you forever. My favourite teacher had always been Mr. Mohr. He was funny and kind, and he was an excellent storyteller. The lesson I remember quite vividly was one after the summer holidays, and Mr. Mohr had brought slides. He showed us a small town in Texas - or rather, a ranch, and he told us about his friend Jesús (named Chucho). The men had met decades earlier when Mr. Mohr's truck had broken down in the middle of nowhere, but close enough to a place called Hebbronville. The German students, who had ventured on a self-guided desert tour, didn't have the slightest idea how to fix a car, and then Chucho had come along. He had visited family and was on his way to Laredo, and he had helped the Germans. They had bought him a beer in return, and Mr. Mohr and Chucho had become friends. Ever since, Mr. Mohr had gone to see Chucho and his growing family in Laredo, and once he was back in Gelsenkirchen, he would tell his pupils about his adventures in Texas. He was even planning on taking a small group of pupils on those vacations.
1971 had been a drizzly, yet sweltering, summer, and Mr. Mohr showed us pictures of the family seeking shelter from the sun. There were three boys in his pictures. One was Mr. Mohr's son, who was my age, and I envied him for having seen the desert. The other two boys were Chucho's: Jorge and Javi. The older boy was 15, the younger 13 years old. They obviously enjoyed horseriding, and there were lots of slides with the two of them snuggling up to a horse. They had friendly round faces and black hair, and I found them cute. Chucho was Mexican, so the boys looked quite exotic to me. Mr. Mohr told us about life on the ranch and about the boys' duties and chores, and I admired what they were doing for their family.
In one slide, Javi was grinning into the camera. He had tipped back his hat and was leaning against an old fence, and he looked like he should be in BRAVO.
I tried to imagine his life on the family ranch, and I wondered if he was happy. Certainly, I decided. The countryside was beautiful, and the family looked caring and loving. There was even a doting grandmother who would keep an eye on the boys. I imagined her chasing after the two, whenever she'd catch them smoking. I also imagined the family laughing a lot. They seemed kind and honest people, and I was sure that I would love them all.