She passed a group of kids in her grade playing a game with a ball. The boy with the ball threw it up into the air and all the other kids ran. When the ball came down he caught it and yelled a country name, and all the kids stopped. Then he went after the closest one and threw the ball. It hit a girl on the head, and everyone cheered.

María continued on. She didn’t understand the rules. Besides, it didn’t look very fun. She was much more interested in her present activity: collecting leaves. She didn’t know why they fell off the trees, but she liked to pick them up in case the trees ever needed them back.

Eventually she came to the wooden split-rail fence that separated the school from the farm. On the other side of it was an open-air stable that consisted of a corrugated iron roof on posts. A black horse and two cows stood inside it. The horse saw her and came over.

“Hi, horsey!” she said. “What are you doing today?”

“I like horses,” Angela said.

“I do too. But I don’t like how they smell.”

“That’s manure.”

“I know. Horses don’t have toilets like we do, so they go on the ground.”

“Do you like cows?”

“Yeah, but they smell even more than horses.”

She continued her conversation with Angela and didn’t notice the two girls in her grade approach until they were right behind her.

“Hi, María,” Lydia said. She was a bit fat and mean, and María tried to avoid her if she could. A few days ago Lydia told her she was going to tie María to a chair and kill her mom and dad in front of her. “What are you doing?”

“I’m petting the horse.”

“I’m petting the horse,” Devin repeated in a dumb-sounding voice. She was tall and thin and had dark skin. “Why are you so stupid?”

“I’m not stupid.”

“Yes, you are,” Lydia said.

“No, I’m not.”

“What’s it like to be stupid?”

“I’m not stupid.”

“You are. You’re a stupid head. You’re a stupid head who carries a doll around. Everyone thinks so.”

María’s eyes became hot and wet.

“Are you going to cry?” Lydia said.

“No.”

“Go on, crybaby. Cry. That’s what crybabies do.”

“I’m not a crybaby.”

“What’s in your hand?” She grabbed the stack of leaves María had been holding.

“Those are mine!”

“Why are you carrying leaves?”

“They’re mine!”

Lydia ripped the leaves into little bits and threw them up in the air, so the wind scattered them about.

“Ewww!” Devin said, covering her mouth with her hands. She pointed at the horse.

Lydia shrieked in amusement.

María turned to see the horse, but she didn’t know what she was supposed to be looking at.

“Is that…?” Devin said.

“Gross!”