Tomas runs a nervous finger across his sweaty forehead, beneath his bandanna. Probably he is annoyed with this man for disbelieving him, even though he lied. He wants to do something—hit or yell at him or take the dog off and forget it, but the man had agreed to a price far too high—eight thousand dollars—and Tomas does not want to lose it.

They’re techniques I got from the LAPD, Tomas says, trying to hold his stare. You can call my friend on the force right now if you want to. He’d be happy to talk.

The man shakes his head dismissively. There’s no need for that. He studies Johan. No. What bothers me is this one’s got a small skull. And his cranium above his eyes is too shallow, shows he isn’t as smart as his mother.

Tomas starts to speak but the man turns away from him, towards the Mexican lady. What do you think, Lucinda?

She puckers her lips distastefully. I do not care about the size of the skull.

I know you don’t.

She comes over and rubs Buster. I like this one.

I could tell you did. Why?

This one, she has a bigger heart than the boy. He is too young and restless. The woman shakes her head as she studies Johan. You will never know how such a young one will turn out.

Tomas looks angry that the maid would interfere with the sale. Actually, he’s the quietest one in the litter, he says. Sleeps all night.

She crosses her arms. I don’t think so.

My brother must be standing ten feet away from her. He stares at her meanly, keeping his face turned from the man. Hey, do you think you could get us a glass of water or something? he says. It’s getting hot in here.

I stiffen.

She does not look pleased. She turns to me. What would you like, little one?

I shrug. A Pepsi?

She nods and does not ask Tomas what he wants and starts towards the kitchen, but the man comes over and touches her shoulder. I’ll get it, honey, he says, then looks hard at Tomas. My wife’s been busy all morning, he says. I’ll get you your water if you’re so thirsty.

Tomas’s face goes red. His arms hang loosely at his sides.

She’s not my maid, you know, the man says.

Tomas attempts not to hesitate. I didn’t think she was your maid, mister. I was only thirsty.

The man does not answer my brother but looks towards the window, at the sunbathed mountains and the shadow of a cloud that drifts over its curves and ridges. Sunlight catches a pool table corner.

We just didn’t want to get the wrong glasses or anything. Gabe will get us the water.

Hearing my name, I come to attention. All their eyes fall on me.