It was clear that the small house near the end of Chambers Lane sat on a lazy acre of land filled with various fruit trees. There was the large apricot tree that shaded the entire western face of the house. There was also the scrawny nectarine tree with only a few branches that barely produced two or three nectarines a year, but whose meager fruit was still juicy and delicious. Only one member of the Mendoza family was lucky enough to pick and eat the nectarines before the rest of the family had the opportunity to. Most of the time that was Jose Luis, the older brother, who would greedily eat the nectarines without any regard to anyone else. He was like that in every other way, especially when it came to food. Even his mother would claim that Jose Luis had a tapeworm or two because of the
