[ ce ] 

The divorce had been difficult on Bastian as well as the children. Eight years of marriage to Jodie had finally been put in the past when he signed the divorce papers. Bastian couldn't say he was too happy about it all. He had married her for a reason and though there were differences that separated them, he still cared about her. And he knew the children would miss her. How else would they fell when suddenly their whole lives were changing before their very eyes?

Bastian had gotten custody of them, because Jodie had never done anything else besides being a housewife. She had put her studies on hold when, at twenty-one years of age she had gotten pregnant and married Bastian. Now she had nothing to fall back on and nothing to offer the children. Bastian offered to help finance her studies, but her pride was too great and she declined the offer. Though he didn't see why he couldn't help her as a friend. They would be seeing each other for the rest of their lives anyway, Bastian had promised her he would let the children visit her whenever they wanted. It was best to stay on good terms.

His friends and family suggested he should get away from it all, go on vacation. And that summer, when he got a break from football for a couple of weeks, he decided he would visit Mexico. He had been to Cabo San Lucas once already and figured his destination, in Chapala, Jalisco, would be just as beautiful.

With a few weeks of anticipation, he was able to plan it all. He would be staying in a mansion by the edge of Lake Chapala, and the location was less than a half hour from the beach. The house he rented was also an hour's drive from Guadalajara, which was one of the most renowned cities in the country of Mexico. He had learned it was the birth place of mariachi music and their local team was something Bastian wanted to see. They had played against Bayern in the summer, a year prior, and he had been impressed at the team he was certain they could easily defeat.

Bastian and his two kids arrived at the Guadalajara airport on a Friday in an early afternoon. As he walked, hand in hand with the impatient children by his side, he spotten a young man with a sign that read 'Bastian Schweinsteiger'. Bastian noticed the man looked almost relieved about something.

When they reached him, the man smiled, greeting them in english. "Welcome to Mexico." 

"We are very happy to be here." Bastian told him.

"My name is Jose Hernandez," He introduced himself, putting the sign under his arm once he stopped needing it. "My family owns the old mansion on Lake Chapala. If you could follow me, I can take you over there and show you around."

As the four made their way through the airport to the parking lot, the little girl tugged at her father's hand. "Daddy," She began, her voice full of innocence. "Is mommy coming to see us later?"

Bastian sighed. No matter how many times he had explained to his little girl that Jodie wouldn't be going with them to Mexico, she still asked him about it. "Nein, mein liebling. Mama stayed in Deutschland. This trip is only for us three."

"Why?" His seven year old son challenged, looking up at the tall figure of his father.

"Because mama und papa are not together anymore." He gave the same explanation each time they asked him. In a softer tone of voice, he added, "When we return home, I'll take you to see mama. Okay?"

The children nodded and stayed quiet.

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Jose drove up to the house, which was very well kept, but didn't look like it had been used in years. And Bastian was impressed at its size. It was a two floor mansion of old spanish colonial architecture and he was surprised he had been able to rent it for such a low price, considering how beautiful the house and the property were. Perhaps, he thought, there was something wrong with it and as a result the owners were taking small amounts of money for the rent.

"Is there something wrong with the house?" Bastian asked, his words dripping with suspicion. The last thing he wanted was to put the children in danger when he was on vacation.

"What do you mean?" Jose shut the car engine off. He tried to play it off, but Bastian caught on that he was nervous.

"I mean," The German emphasized, "Are there crocodiles in the lake or something? This rent price is very low. I feel like there must be some sort of problem you aren't telling me about."

"There are no problems with the house, Mr. Schweinsteiger." Jose assured. "And if there is, you can call me at anytime. I will help you with anything."

Before Bastian could say more, the man got out of the car and walked over to the front door, ready to give them their tour. Bastian made sure to pay extra close attention. If there was any reason why he shouldn't stay there, he was going to find out what it was.

Jose showed them through the livingroom, kitchen, bedrooms, and everything else they needed to know the location of. The tour took them a half hour, due to the size of the house and the children were delighted with their bedrooms. Bastian let them set up while he walked Jose to the front door. Handing the keys over to the German footballer, he said, "If for any reason you decide you don't want to stay here, you may request to get half of your rent money back. But we are entitled to the rest. It says so on the agreement you signed." He reminded.

Bastian nodded, "Yes. Thank you, Jose."

The two shook hands and the young man took off, leaving Bastian and his family to enjoy their vacation at the lake.

The neighbors immediately took notice of the foreign family renting out the old house. For one, most of the people living by the lake were middle class Mexican families. They hardly saw any foreigners in the area since the eighties when the Belgians had tried to open up a resort by the lake. The plan had failed because most people preferred the beach, which was thirty minutes away, over an old lake. Second, everyone in the area knew no one had moved into the old house in a long time, ever since most of them remembered.

A young couple, from two houses down were the first to knock on Bastian's front door. When he opened it, he saw a man and a women who looked in their late twenties. The woman held a casserole of something that Bastian thought smelled delicious. 

"Hello," The German greeted in english.

"We're your neighbors from two houses down." The man said, unnecessarily pointing down the dirt road in the direction of his home. "I'm Carlos Ulloa and this is my wife Alejandra." Bastian mentally said to himself that he would need to remember all the names and learn to pronounce them correctly.

"I'm Bastian Schweinsteiger." replied the footballer.

Alejandra crinkled up her nose. "Sha--que?" What?

But Carlos nodded with excitement, knowing exactly who he was. "You were at the world cup last summer."

"I was." Bastian smiled.

"Anywho," Alejandra interrupted their conversation before they could continue. "We wanted to give you a warm welcome. So we brought some tortas ahogadas, a traditional Jalisco meal. We hope you and your family will like them." She placed the heavy glazed clay pot in his arms and Bastian was surprised that such a petite woman could carry that heavy pot from two houses down like it was nothing.

"You know, you're the first person to rent this house in years." Carlos informed, matter-of-factly. "Its been so long that none of the other neighbors ever remember seeing someone living here."

"And why is that?" Bastian wondered.

"That's a great story to tell around the bonfire." Alejandra grinned.

Her husband nodded in agreement. "We're going to have a bonfire get together with the other neighbors in a couple of days. You should definitely come by anf you will find the answer to your question."

As soon as the young couple left, another set of neighbors went to visit Bastian. Each of them gave them a dish to try and everything spelled delicious. By the time it was over, Bastian was certain he had enough food to last him for days. On the dining room table were tacos, enchiladas, tortas ahogadas, every kind of Mexican dish.

But what most intrigued him was the story behind the old mansion.

-

i suddenly felt inspired to write this chapter after listening to 'la bamba'. i know that song is from veracruz, but veracruz is in mexico so there. and i have only been to jalisco once in my life, when i was like seven. so i dont remember many details about the place. so im making them up. and the only place i went to was the cathedral in guadalajara. all i remember from that experience was that there was a street vendor who sold delicious churritos. 

yeah. so i hope you all like the update. thank you for reading. i love youuuu.

oh, and i will be numbering the chapters in nahuatl which is the old language of the native aztecs. so 'ce' obviously means 'one'.

-clary xx