"Ay! You go get them. They in cocina." Stupid Samuel nodded towards the kitchen. "Sabes dónde está todo." After all, Mona knew where everything was.

Mona had been in the Jacobo household often enough to notice where the family stacked their food and utensils. During breakfast, she would sometimes drop by to grab a cup of milk when it was scarce at her place. Mona even knew where Stupid Samuel brushed his teeth and washed his hair in the mornings (by the kitchen sink).

Mona also sensed that Stupid Samuel, when bothered, would be less likely to remember what was happening around him. He would wish that the source of his irritation might disappear quickly, as if he were swatting a fly. Being older than Stupid Samuel, Mona was smart enough to take advantage of the situation. 

"¿Qué estás haciendo con esas bolas de queso?" Stupid Samuel asked Mona, who stared blankly at him like a thief caught in the act. 

"What you doing with balls?" he repeated the question in broken English. 

Of all the times he would notice, she thought in Spanish. "You say, lleva lo que quieras? Take anything." 

"No. No. I say no thing. I say get only what in lista." The latter part, Stupid Samuel sorely missed saying, assuming Mona already knew, a fine print he never bothered to add, but would later regret.

"Pero... I need these," Mona countered.

"That queso de bola... no que-eh-so-oh Oaxaca," he enunciated. He gestured towards what Mona held — two large balls of red cheese, typically Edam, which was distinctive from the semi-soft cheese on her list, commonly used for quesadillas.

"Pero, no tiene queso! These will do!" Mona argued, telling Stupid Samuel they don't have regular cheese.

"No! No!" 

"Si! Si!" 

And so began the grabbing of balls, to see who was stronger of the two: a scrawny ten-year-old boy, or a tall, masculine twelve-year-old girl. Height did not always have its advantage, or the status of being a visitor, because Mona lost the battle.

That night, adrenaline and a wish for peace triumphed. In the end, Mona had lain sprawling on the floor, Stupid Samuel, the victor, on top.  The balls of expensive cheese rolled beneath the mesa, the wooden table sitting squarely in the kitchen.

This was what his parents and others saw when they entered the nipa hut.