*Original Title (too long for Wattpad):

Stupid Samuel: the Unpleasant Encounters with Mona (the Girl Who the Natives Said He "Kissed", but Really Did Not, Only Possible in His Dreams)

A/N: Translations can be found as inline comments. Self-explanatory or translations indicated within the text will not be provided.

Stupid Samuel standing stark naked in the middle of a dusty road in the barrio where he was born, and whose inhabitants were superstitious enough to believe that he, a small innocent pygmy, had something to do with the changing of the seasons, and therefore, the rest of their lives, by virtue of reading some simple clouds that God could only move, was the last scene of the previous story.

Of course, the villagers, upon realizing their mistake caused by overzealousness, had since returned to collect their addled wits and their children from the council-funded escuela, the Universidad ni Cristo, — an institution they had no confidence in as their kids always came back with a more backward thinking than they previously possessed before they left.

What did one really expect to learn from old matrons with missing teeth and who were garbed in plumed gowns ransacked from road sales of a neighbouring town? Even the most pious seeker of knowledge among children could not have withstood the monotonous readings from books left behind by American turistas: "99 Ways to Cook Chicken"; "Getting Lost in Html Language and How to Get Out of It"; "Pepper & Spice: The Art of Seduction"—libros of no consequence to people like Stupid Samuel.

But it did not really matter if the confidence towards the village's only education system seemed pretty low: as long as their niños and niñas sat in their respective spots under the large oak tree, bringing their favourite tigers or road frogs, the barrio people would be happy to lead their own quiet lives exchanging observations and opinions about other townsfolk who happened to beat their spouses or lose their virginity that day.

One afternoon, for example, the talk was of Mona. The natives, made idle by irritability from the sweltering heat, were contemplating what kind of girl Mona actually was.

"A puta!" yelled the brown man through his yellowing teeth, a string of grass between them.

"This chica is a loco!" shouted the fat woman fanning herself with a banana tree leaf.

"Bobo! Idiota!" cried the girl's mother.

"Leche!" cursed the girl's father.

"Por favor!" exclaimed an old lady in her wooden rocking chair. "Someone might hear you!"

Mona's father nodded apologetically towards the house matriarch, who in fact was telling him to shut up, not because of the bad word he uttered, but because she was trying to sleep in her silla. Nevertheless, he's sorry for what he had said and for what had transpired, wishing it never did.

What actually took place was still a mystery. All they knew for certain was that *IT* had happened. Reports gathered from townsfolk ranged from a kiss being exchanged to a salacious act being committed. Either way, it involved Stupid Samuel, who seemed to be plagued by scandals.

"INDECENTE!" the Village Voice headline screamed.

"IMMORAL!" was shouted from the streets by eager pages, obliterating the necessity of a barrio newsletter, a periodico.

Someone was shaking his head and choked: "You know... these kids... they are not... so inocente anymore... as we want them to be... Ay caray! What has the world come to?"

The world of this barrio was a particularly small one. So it was only proper that expletives preceded the reference to "the world." Indeed, the village was full of fucking shit—and Stupid Samuel was deep in it. With his narrow frame and mind, how could Stupid Samuel possibly get himself out of this mess?

Fortunately for him, he was in his usual naked state when this happened: he did not have to worry about dirtying his clothes, if he had any, symbolically speaking. Literally, however, his nakedness left him prone to exposure. In fact, it was his insistence of being unclothed that got him frequently into so much trouble.

Fresh from climbing out of a shitty scandal, Stupid Samuel should have known better than to be thrown into another one. But what could he do except exclaim "Mierda!"

If anyone asked Stupid Samuel, he would say he was innocent in all this. A nude ten-year-old pygmy could not do enough harm—especially with a name like "Stupid Samuel." The most he could do perhaps was to destroy some girl's sensibilities, which were too delicate to be handled. Stupid Samuel could never figure them out. The blame always fell on him like a fly seeking a pie.

In this instant, the odious insect was in the form of Mona. She was the meat grocer's daughter who lived in the hut nearest to his and had become his playmate once in a while. Although she didn't exactly point to Stupid Samuel as the perpetrator of the crime, Mona had her fingers on his burrito.

*IT* went on like this: Mona, being the youngest of thirteen children, was sent over that fateful evening to the Suárez house for some butter, potatoes, and cheese among other things. The Ramos, actually the children, were preparing a large dinner party for the barrio's cockfighting community, of which Samuel's parents were also members.

"Mona, go get mantiquilla from Mrs. Suárez," said Alicia, the eldest.

"Mona, go get patatas too," added Benita, the second child.

"Mona, go get some queso if you can," Celia, the third one, chimed in.

"Mona, also go get some tazas and platos," instructed Dina, well alerted to their lack of cups and plates.

And so, with these instructions and a pair of sandals, Mona dutifully crossed the field skipping (not because of child-like playfulness but due to the threat posed by snakes at her feet).

Stupid Samuel was standing stark naked when he opened the door to his hut. A furious rapping roused him from sleep. It was only Mona, no one of importance, but a pain in the neck, a fritanga.

"Buenas noches," she said.

He nodded, not bothering to return the greeting.

"They want me....." she ventured and shoved her make-shift list under his nose, which was then itching uncontrollably.

"Mama's not here. So is Papa. It's Sabado."

"Claro que si, Pero...." Mona responded. She knew that on Saturdays, Señora Suárez accompanied her husband to the cockfighting game, as her parents were also there betting on crazy-eyed chickens, hoping to win some money so they can have an excuse to buy more alcohol.

Mona would have tugged at Stupid Samuel's sleeves if he had sleeves, but since he was bare, she got his attention by placing her fingers on his pubescent chest. Stupid Samuel coiled from her touch.

"Ay! You go get them. They in cocina," Samuel said, his head nodding towards the kitchen.

Mona knew where everything was; she had been in the Suárez household often enough to notice where the family stacked their food and utensils. (During breakfast, she would sometimes drop by to grab a cup of milk when it was scarce at her place.) Mona even knew where Stupid Samuel brushed his teeth and washed his hair in the mornings (by the kitchen sink).

Mona also knew that Stupid Samuel, when bothered, would less likely to remember what was happening around him. He would wish that whatever the source of his irritation might go away immediately as if he was swatting a fly. Being older than her friend, Mona was smart enough to take advantage of the situation.

"What you doing?" Stupid Samuel asked Mona, at what she thought was an inopportune time.

"What you doing with balls?" he repeated in broken English.

Mona stared blankly at him like a thief caught in the act.

Of all the times he would notice, she thought in Spanish. "You said, take anything."

"No. No. I say no sort. I say things in cocina. Get only what in list."

"Pero... I need these," Mona countered.

"That queso de bola... not que-eh-so-oh," he clarified, showing the difference between what she held—a pair of large red, cheese balls, and what was written on the paper, which was regular cheese.

"Pero, no tiene queso! These will do!" Mona argued.

"No! No!"

"Si! Si!"

And so began the grabbing of balls, to see who was stronger of the two, a scrawny ten-year-old boy, or a tall, masculine twelve-year-old girl. Height did not always have its advantage, or the status of being a visitor, because Mona lost the battle. That night, adrenaline and a wish for peace triumphed. Mona, in the end, had lain sprawling on the floor, Stupid Samuel, the victor, on top.

The balls of expensive cheese rolled beneath the mesa. This was what his parents and others saw when they entered the nipa hut.

Rumours, as the old saying went, spread like wildfire. Meant as whispers, conversations similar to these were overheard:

"No! Mona on top! No bottom!"

"No! Mona not have top! She has bottom!"

"Mona, on bottom, no top?"

"Si! No! Mona on bottom, Samuel on top."

"Mona naked?"

"Si! No! Only half."

"Skin like ivory jabon."

"No, es mas chocolate."

"What Stupid Samuel say?"

"Jesu Cristo!"

"What Mona say?"

"Muchas Gracias."

Inside a tent near the large oak tree, religious natives held an emergency mass the following Sunday morning. Both practicing and non-practicing members of the community, together with the just-curious, felt the need to erect a church. They called it Iglesia ni Cristo, or the Church of Christ, for lack of time and originality. Many were in attendance to view or show recent fashion trends, which were not much, and to hear these words, abridged from a three-hour sermon:

Priest (self-anointed): Is the kiss just a kiss when the kisser is Stupid Samuel?

Enthusiastic Congregation: No!

Priest: Is the act just an act when the actor is Stupid Samuel?

Congregation: No!

Priest: Is Stupid Samuel just plain stupid?

Congregation: Si!

Priest: Can stupidity be counted as a sin?

Congregation: Si!

Priest: Altogether, let us pray.

All: Santo Domingo (referring to the saint hastily named after Sunday).

All: Santo Domingo, Dios be with us. Deliver us from the Diablo. Deliver us from Stupid Samuel. Let him do his penance. Cleanse his mind with pure water, and not with a dirty bucket. Cleanse his mind of impure thoughts with jabon de ivory. Cleanse us with the blood of Jesu Cristo. Bless us. These we ask in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Espiritu. Amen.

Outside the church, the kids sang:

     Samuel and Mona, sitting under a tree,

     K-I-S-S-I-N-G!

     First comes love, then comes marriage,

    Then comes Pepito in a baby carriage.

Hello there again. Thanks for reading this far. Do you like this version of the rhyming song? What do you think of Stupid Samuel getting into all sorts of trouble?

Moral of the story: Put some clothes on.

Comment, feedback most welcome like second reader SilenceDrifter.