The Watermelon Pickers had met in their usual spot; at the tailgate of Paulito’s pickup. They were all enjoying their midday cigarettes. Arlette knew she had 7 minutes to set off the biggest domino effect of her entire life.

Slipping behind the shed and weaving between stacks of old tires she approached the back fence of the property owned by the Greene’s. She worked tirelessly when melon season arrived, picking melons on the vast farm, right beside the illegals.

But she’d been teased and picked on for far too long. It was time to prove to the ‘Fives’ that she wasn’t just a ‘Melonball’.

She had hidden a small gas can and some cigarette butts that weren’t completely smoked down to the filters. Finding, a nice dry corner near the barn where the grass was thick, she dribbled a little gas out and threw in a lit cigarette butt. When it began smoking, she bolted around to the port-o-john for her alibi.

“Fire! Fire!” she soon heard, but waited until feet ran past before stumbling out, disheveled, to help.