Noli was not happy. “Marama,” he stated, accusing me of cheating.
“Unsay marama, dili ka gyud kabalo. You are a sore loser,” I fought back.
“He won it fair, Noli. Leave him alone,” Rhuel said.
Noli’s sourgraping threw cold water on our enthusiasm. We decided to climb the lomboy tree. It was full of the black, oblong-shaped, shiny and ripe plums. They were sweet and a little tart. I looked up, eyes wide. I saw the contrast of the dark plums with the green leaves. I can sprinkle a bit of sea salt on them, and they will be delicious, I imagined, feeling the flesh against my tongue. My mouth watered. Noli saw the desire in my eyes. “I will sell you the lomboy for your rubber bands,” he said, looking at me.
“Hah? Grabe kaayo ka. Are you now selling your lomboy? Your father does not sell you
