Game over

Augustine and Roberto

Augustine hated Saturdays. He had to go out into the fields with his brothers while Tina stayed home and cleaned.

Luckily they finished early.

Augustine's father patted his shoulder and smiled, "you're a good kid, Augustine."

"Not as good as Ricardo or junior."

"No, don't doubt yourself, mijo, you can be better than them. You can grow into a great man."

"Like you?"

"I see much more in you. You don't complain about the fields."

Augustine made a face. He hated the fields dearly but never said it out loud.

His mother ran out, a pan in her hand, "Roberto! Where the hell have you been?!"

"Out in the fields, I told you."

"And I told you to stop taking my baby!"

"He's thirteen, Anita!"

They began cursing each other out in Spanish.

"Ey, Aug, why don't you ask the Jasons to play some ball, eh?" Julian said, grabbing his mitt.

"Uhm, yea, sure, Jul."

Augustine grabbed his mitt but his mother stopped him.

"Where are you going now?"

"To the old field."

"Why don't you stay here?"

"I want to go play, it's been a long day, mama."

"Blame your father, you still have chores to do."

"I'll do it, mijo, go play." His father said, grabbing a broom.

Augustine smiled and ran down the block.

The Jasons were playing catch.

The eldest threw a horrible throw and the middle one called it. The youngest still standing there, rolling her eyes. Augustine realised he was staring at her and asked his question.

He ran out to the field but thanks to Micael, they couldn't play. Three on three isn't as much fun so they walked on home.

Jaime walked next to Augustine.

"Sorry for making fun of you-"

"You called my sister Beaner baby. That's not cool."

"I'm sorry and all but can we look it over-"

"Look what over? I don't tolerate racism, this is America not some hic- land. I could be racist back to you, but I'm not like that."

"Listen-"

"No, you listen. You make my sister cry, you're lucky I don't beat your ungrateful ass. Now get out of here, I don't want to see your freckled face again!"

Jaime ran off, his face in his hands.

"That wasn't very nice." Tina put her hand on her little brother's shoulder.

"Nobody can be racist without paying for it."

"Father wouldn't like what you did."

"Then we don't tell him, I didn't punch him in the face and I'm proud of myself for that."

"Alright, whatever you believe."

They walked into the house and Roberto grabbed his son's shoulder and pulled him into the basement.

"What is it, papa?"

"I'm not saying I trust the American news but they say that the living dead are coming our way and we must take shelter. I want you to help just in case the Americans are correct for once."

"Why not Ricardo or Micael?"

"I need you. I will give you the things I feel we'll need."

"A gun?"

"No, THAT'S for Ricardo and Micael. You get a machete. Your grandfather gave it to me."

"And you trust me?"

"You'll need to protect Tina."

"Alright. I can do that."

"Pack the RV, son, do it now."

Augustine ran outside and began packing the RV.

Yes, they would survive.