– Pops, we got mail from Oso, didn’t know you had a fan of that sort.
– M’ijo, Oso is a fine, fine acquaintance of sorts. We were once to get together in San Diego, back in 2004 but I was on memory lane and far from the highwire communication lines. Little too late did I found out he wanted us to get together. So yeah, what does he say?
– Quién sabe pops, Geronimo opened the letter because it dispelled old memories. He fired his 30-30 carabina in the air not out of rage but of respect for his elders, or that is how I interpreted it anyways.
– A jíjos! Pinche Geronimo, since when does he have permission to open letters aquí en las offices? I told you to get rid of him.
Geronimo sideglanced and placed his finger on the trigger.
– Geronimo, pops, you guys need to get a long. Besides, it was a sad reminder, maybe Geronimo lived something of it.
– Bueno pues, what was it about?
– It’s about when migras, rangers, used gases to cleanse mexicans as they crossed over to the US because mexicans not only looked dirty but smelled ugly too or so the güero thought back then.
– Oh yeah, no wonder Geronimo blew a casket. Sad episode. Güeros will talk about how race doesn’t matter but their actions are all about race. Get me that mezcal bottle m’ijo.
– I thought you only drank out of that bottle for special reasons.
– This is a special reason, am gonna drink it allwith Geronimo. His people have lost many soldiers due to chemicals. His ancestral land nuked and his people let to die in strange lands. For once am ready to join him in peace and quiet. All I wanna do is look far and deep into the horizon, just as he does, you know?
– Yeah, I know, I always wonder why he does that.
– He does it because he mourns son, he mourns.
– Pops, he’s dead.
– So what? Rest in Peace is a güero concoction. Did your abuelita ever rest at night when you went out to party? No m’ijo, one doesn’t stop worrying about ones own gente. Never.