“Let’s play school,” Lena proposed, determined to change the subject. Waving her hand impatiently, she shouted, “I want to be the teacher.”
“Don’t nobody want to play no school,” Michelle grumbled and kicked in the dirt.
“Ah come on,” Lena said. “We can play spelling on the chalkboard.” She looked around, waiting to see if Mary Gladys and Michelle agreed. “Yall can call me words and see if I can spell them.” She began writing on the chalkboard.
Michelle stretched her legs and cleared her throat. Then she stood up, grabbed the narrow trunk of the tree, and swung herself back and forth. “I know. We can play ministration.”
“What’s that?” Mary Gladys frowned.
“Ah, you know.” Michelle snapped at Mary Gladys and turned her head towards Lena. “You know, don’t you?”
“Naw,” Lena said without looking up. She continued to mark on the chalkboard, this time writing in cursive the word, ‘encyclopedia.’ “Look, this word got twelve letters in it!”
“Yall wanna play or not?” Michelle grew impatient.
“Play what?” Mary Gladys shouted.
“I told you, ministration!” Michelle talked through her teeth.
“How you play it?” Mary Gladys stood with her hands on her hips.
“You got to have some cotton.” Michelle looked around, her eyes wandering from Lena to Mary Gladys.
“What we need cotton for?” Mary Gladys turned to Lena, who had not taken her eyes from the chalkboard.
“You have to put it in your bloomers.” Michelle giggled.
Mary Gladys shook her head. “Aw naw, I ain’t doing that,” she said and cut her eyes at Lena. “I ain’t doing that.”
“Me neither. Sounds like something bad.”
“Yall just dumb and countrified, and besides, you chicken.”
“I ain’t chicken,” Mary Gladys yelled.
Lena hugged the chalkboard and stared at Michelle. Maybe it was okay. After all, Michelle was the oldest and she had been to the city, so maybe she could teach them something new. But she didn’t know about this cotton thing. Putting something in your bloomers just didn’t seem right. Like something nasty. “I don’t want to play,” she eventually admitted. “I want to write on the chalkboard.”
Michelle’s eyes lit up. “Give you my chalkboard if you play.”
Lena looked at Mary Gladys and then at the chalkboard. For a second, the sun went behind the cloud and cast a shadow over the ground where they played. “Okay,” Lena agreed. “I’ll use this.” She snatched a dingy ribbon from her hair and held it out toward her friends.
“You can’t use that, dummy. It’s got to be cotton or a rag or something. Let’s go up to the house and see if we can find something.”
With Michelle in front and Lena and Mary Gladys marching side by side behind her, they sneaked past the grownups, sitting under a shade tree in the yard, and went into the house. Michelle untied the string around her mother’s brown suitcase and searched through her clothes and cosmetics. When nothing appropriate turned up, she rambled through Lena’s mother’s chest of drawers and then the cedar chest. There she found a ripped army green pillow with the inscription, “To My Darling,” stitched in red. Cotton yellowed with age was exposed at the seam and Michelle pulled out a wad of it. “We can use this,” she whispered, and stuck it in the pocket of her skirt.
“Naw,” Lena said, snatching the cotton. “You can’t do that. That’s Mama’s! Put it back!”
“Gimme that girl,” Michelle jerked it. “It’s just a little bit. Now come on, fore somebody come in here.”
They ran outside, across the yard and down the hill toward the woodshed. Lena held the chalkboard so tightly her hand began to sweat and cramp. She glanced back at Mary Gladys, whose untamed hair looked like a brush broom shielding the beads of sweat popping on her forehead. Lena thought her friend looked as wild as she did that day Rabbit Martin and George Lee cornered her at the spring. She speeded her pace and let out a long breath.
Lena felt relieved when they reached the woodshed. Mary Gladys stood close to her while Michelle motioned for them to come to the back of the shed. They followed behind her, Lena still clutching the chalkboard, and Mary Gladys hooking her arm in Lena’s.
The air was thick and the smell of damp logs and sawdust mixed with the July heat gave the shed a claustrophobic feel.
Michelle reached in her pocket and pulled out the cotton, which looked like a small yellowish-grey cloud as she fingered it. She divided it into three equal pieces and passed them out as if she were handing out pieces of candy.
Mary Gladys held up the cotton in front of her eyes. “What we spose to do with this?”
Michelle pulled up her skirt and pulled down her panties. “I told you, put it in here, stupid,” she said slightly bending her knees and glancing at Lena and Mary Gladys out of the corner of her eyes. “You never heard of this before?”
Lena shook her head. “Naw!”
Shaking her head, Michelle sucked her teeth. “Yall don’t know nothing. All women do this.” She fumbled with the cotton.
“Do what?” Lena asked.
“Ministrate.” When she got her piece of cotton in place, she said, “Now yall do it.”
Lena and Mary Gladys looked at each other, and then Mary Gladys started to lift her dress. Lena slowly pulled down her ankle trousers and nervously placed the cotton.
“Ah hah! Caught you!” Leland, Jr. jumped from the side of the shed. “Uh-huh, uh-huh, I knew I’d catch yall doing something nasty one day! I knew it! I knew it and I’m telling!”
Lena and Mary Gladys jumped, snatching their clothes in place and stretching their eyes. Lena felt the heat come into her face; her sinuses opened and her heart pounded. This couldn’t be happening. It was the kind of thing she had dreamed about–getting caught doing something she could get a whipping for. Whenever she had this kind of dream, she’d wake up terrified, wet with perspiration. Maybe this time, she thought, she’d wake up and find this too was a bad dream because if it weren’t, she must be dying.
She looked down at the ground, searching for an anthill or a bug that would take her mind off this whole thing. If she saw a bug or a worm or something, she could follow it with her eyes until she went into a trance. It would be as if this whole Michelle-mess weren’t happening; it would be like being somewhere else. “Oh,” she mumbled, if she could just close her eyes and disappear. Leland, Jr. stood watching Mary Gladys and Lena with their backs turned, straightening their clothes. He leaned against the inside of the shed, folded his arms and crossed his legs at the ankles the way he had seen Calvin do. He smiled out of one side of his mouth, slamming one fist into the other hand. “Yeah, I knew this day was coming.”
Michelle walked over to Leland, Jr. who was taller than she, and looked boldly up at him. “What you gon do?”
“I’m telling. I’m telling on all three of yall.” He turned and started away from the shed. “Down here playing with yourselves. I’m telling cause you always telling on me. Just wait and see.”
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from Lena and Mary Gladys
“Let’s play school,” Lena proposed, determined to change the subject. Waving her hand impatiently, she shouted, “I want to be the teacher.”
“Don’t nobody want to play no school,” Michelle grumbled and kicked in the dirt.
“Ah come on,” Lena said. “We can play spelling on the chalkboard.” She looked around, waiting to see if Mary Gladys and Michelle agreed. “Yall can call me words and see if I can spell them.” She began writing on the chalkboard.
Michelle stretched her legs and cleared her throat. Then she stood up, grabbed the narrow trunk of the tree, and swung herself back and forth. “I know. We can play ministration.”
“What’s that?” Mary Gladys frowned.
“Ah, you know.” Michelle snapped at Mary Gladys and turned her head towards Lena. “You know, don’t you?”
“Naw,” Lena said without looking up. She continued to mark on the chalkboard, this time writing in cursive the word, ‘encyclopedia.’ “Look, this word got twelve letters in it!”
“Yall wanna play or not?” Michelle grew impatient.
“Play what?” Mary Gladys shouted.
“I told you, ministration!” Michelle talked through her teeth.
“How you play it?” Mary Gladys stood with her hands on her hips.
“You got to have some cotton.” Michelle looked around, her eyes wandering from Lena to Mary Gladys.
“What we need cotton for?” Mary Gladys turned to Lena, who had not taken her eyes from the chalkboard.
“You have to put it in your bloomers.” Michelle giggled.
Mary Gladys shook her head. “Aw naw, I ain’t doing that,” she said and cut her eyes at Lena. “I ain’t doing that.”
“Me neither. Sounds like something bad.”
“Yall just dumb and countrified, and besides, you chicken.”
“I ain’t chicken,” Mary Gladys yelled.
Lena hugged the chalkboard and stared at Michelle. Maybe it was okay. After all, Michelle was the oldest and she had been to the city, so maybe she could teach them something new. But she didn’t know about this cotton thing. Putting something in your bloomers just didn’t seem right. Like something nasty. “I don’t want to play,” she eventually admitted. “I want to write on the chalkboard.”
Michelle’s eyes lit up. “Give you my chalkboard if you play.”
Lena looked at Mary Gladys and then at the chalkboard. For a second, the sun went behind the cloud and cast a shadow over the ground where they played. “Okay,” Lena agreed. “I’ll use this.” She snatched a dingy ribbon from her hair and held it out toward her friends.
“You can’t use that, dummy. It’s got to be cotton or a rag or something. Let’s go up to the house and see if we can find something.”
With Michelle in front and Lena and Mary Gladys marching side by side behind her, they sneaked past the grownups, sitting under a shade tree in the yard, and went into the house. Michelle untied the string around her mother’s brown suitcase and searched through her clothes and cosmetics. When nothing appropriate turned up, she rambled through Lena’s mother’s chest of drawers and then the cedar chest. There she found a ripped army green pillow with the inscription, “To My Darling,” stitched in red. Cotton yellowed with age was exposed at the seam and Michelle pulled out a wad of it. “We can use this,” she whispered, and stuck it in the pocket of her skirt.
“Naw,” Lena said, snatching the cotton. “You can’t do that. That’s Mama’s! Put it back!”
“Gimme that girl,” Michelle jerked it. “It’s just a little bit. Now come on, fore somebody come in here.”
They ran outside, across the yard and down the hill toward the woodshed. Lena held the chalkboard so tightly her hand began to sweat and cramp. She glanced back at Mary Gladys, whose untamed hair looked like a brush broom shielding the beads of sweat popping on her forehead. Lena thought her friend looked as wild as she did that day Rabbit Martin and George Lee cornered her at the spring. She speeded her pace and let out a long breath.
Lena felt relieved when they reached the woodshed. Mary Gladys stood close to her while Michelle motioned for them to come to the back of the shed. They followed behind her, Lena still clutching the chalkboard, and Mary Gladys hooking her arm in Lena’s.
The air was thick and the smell of damp logs and sawdust mixed with the July heat gave the shed a claustrophobic feel.
Michelle reached in her pocket and pulled out the cotton, which looked like a small yellowish-grey cloud as she fingered it. She divided it into three equal pieces and passed them out as if she were handing out pieces of candy.
Mary Gladys held up the cotton in front of her eyes. “What we spose to do with this?”
Michelle pulled up her skirt and pulled down her panties. “I told you, put it in here, stupid,” she said slightly bending her knees and glancing at Lena and Mary Gladys out of the corner of her eyes. “You never heard of this before?”
Lena shook her head. “Naw!”
Shaking her head, Michelle sucked her teeth. “Yall don’t know nothing. All women do this.” She fumbled with the cotton.
“Do what?” Lena asked.
“Ministrate.” When she got her piece of cotton in place, she said, “Now yall do it.”
Lena and Mary Gladys looked at each other, and then Mary Gladys started to lift her dress. Lena slowly pulled down her ankle trousers and nervously placed the cotton.
“Ah hah! Caught you!” Leland, Jr. jumped from the side of the shed. “Uh-huh, uh-huh, I knew I’d catch yall doing something nasty one day! I knew it! I knew it and I’m telling!”
Lena and Mary Gladys jumped, snatching their clothes in place and stretching their eyes. Lena felt the heat come into her face; her sinuses opened and her heart pounded. This couldn’t be happening. It was the kind of thing she had dreamed about–getting caught doing something she could get a whipping for. Whenever she had this kind of dream, she’d wake up terrified, wet with perspiration. Maybe this time, she thought, she’d wake up and find this too was a bad dream because if it weren’t, she must be dying.
She looked down at the ground, searching for an anthill or a bug that would take her mind off this whole thing. If she saw a bug or a worm or something, she could follow it with her eyes until she went into a trance. It would be as if this whole Michelle-mess weren’t happening; it would be like being somewhere else. “Oh,” she mumbled, if she could just close her eyes and disappear. Leland, Jr. stood watching Mary Gladys and Lena with their backs turned, straightening their clothes. He leaned against the inside of the shed, folded his arms and crossed his legs at the ankles the way he had seen Calvin do. He smiled out of one side of his mouth, slamming one fist into the other hand. “Yeah, I knew this day was coming.”
Michelle walked over to Leland, Jr. who was taller than she, and looked boldly up at him. “What you gon do?”
“I’m telling. I’m telling on all three of yall.” He turned and started away from the shed. “Down here playing with yourselves. I’m telling cause you always telling on me. Just wait and see.”