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annoyed. “This,” he repeated, with even more solemnity, “is a vajra hammer. In Tibet and India it represents wisdom and the power to smash deceptions and falsehoods. Use it well, Son.”
    â€œThank you, Father,” said Gabe with equal ceremony. He shook his new hammer of wisdom and truth to make the beads rattle.
    Dad gave the other bundle of cloth to Lupe. “Take this, my firstborn, and keep it safe. It is an important heirloom of our family.”
    She took it, barely humoring him. “I’m sure it’s been an heirloom since you glued it together earlier this morning, whatever it is.”
    Dad stood back and crossed his arms over his stained apron. He didn’t look annoyed. He looked even more smug. “Unwrap it, wiseass.”
    Lupe removed the cloth to reveal a walking cane of polished wood, capped with a silver handle. Sarcasm fell away from her face in small pieces. She tugged on the silver end and unsheathed a long sword blade.
    â€œThat was my grandfather’s,” Dad said. “Toledo steel, with a seascape etched along the blade. Whenever he had his afternoon nap, I would sneak in, swipe it, and swing it around in the backyard. I always put it back before he woke up.”
    â€œToledo, Ohio?” Lupe asked. She stared at the blade, dazzled. There wasn’t as much joke in her voice as she probably meant to put there.
    â€œNo, wiseass. Toledo, Spain—the nation of our ancestors. Half of our ancestors anyway. Those who crossed the wide ocean to do horrible things to the other half of our ancestors. Now pay attention. You’re the oldest, and the fighter in the family. You keep it safe. Your brother is the diplomat, so I have judged him worthy of a vajra hammer.”
    That made Gabe nervous. How did he know that I’m a diplomat? Did he overhear us last night? Or is he just trying to make me feel better about giving me a rubber hammer with beads glued on rather than my great-grandfather’s sword?
    Dad gathered up the breakfast plates and droppedthem in the dishwasher. “Take care of these gifts, my children.”
    â€œThanks, Dad,” they both said together.
    â€œAnd, Lupe, you’re going to class this morning. Don’t give your mother any more grief about summer school.”
    Lupe started to say something, stopped, and then said something else. “Can I bring the sword?”
    â€œNo,” said Dad.
    After the gift-giving ceremony was over, Mom and the twins moved through the kitchen in a sudden, frenzied bustle of kisses and shouts of “meow.” Then Mom and Dad and Noemi and Andrés all left to run errands.
    â€œMake sure your sister goes to class today, my heart,” Mom whispered to Gabe on her way out the door. “Make sure she does.” Gabe promised that he would, insomuch as he could ever influence what Lupe did.
    Soon Gabe and Lupe stood alone in the kitchen.
    â€œCan I borrow your hammer?” Lupe asked. “Temporary trade?”
    Gabe wasn’t sure she was serious. He didn’t want to agree too quickly, even though his answer was obviously yes. “Why?”
    â€œBecause I have spiders in my room,” she told him. “I want to use the mallet of truth and wisdom to convince them that their spidery lives are illusory. If I use thesword to do it, then I’ll just make holes in the walls and ceiling. After I smash spiders, I guess I’ll go to summer school. After that I have a restaurant shift, so I probably won’t see you for the rest of the day. Have fun while I’m gone. Swing that sword around in the backyard if you can do it without hurting yourself—or hurting the sword. Call my cell if you need anything.”
    Gabe was relieved that he didn’t have to try to convince her to leave the house and get far away from the dangerous physics in the basement.
    â€œWhy do you need summer school, anyway?” he asked. It felt safer to ask now that Mom