I am flattered to be mistaken for Thérèse’s sister because she is pretty. Everyone, even Pouchon, thinks so. What is different about us, though, is that Thérèse is not nearly as interested in school as I am. All she thinks about are boys—not the ones in our class, but older boys, like my brother, Moy, who is her latest fancy.

Thérèse lives in the same village as my grandparents. Whenever Manman, Moy, and I go to my grandparents’ house, we must pass her house, and whenever she knows we are coming, she stands out on the road in front of her house to greet us. (Mostly to greet Moy.)

Today during recess Thérèse started pestering me again about Moy. Some of my classmates were playing hopscotch and marbles, jumping rope, and singing while they twirled themselves to near dizziness in a wonn, but all Thérèse wanted to do was talk about Moy.

“How is your brother, Celiane?”

“He is fine, Thérèse.”

“Is he still going to Léogâne for sewing lessons?”

“They are not sewing lessons. He is learning to be a tailor.”

“Then one day I will be a tailor’s wife.”

“You’re dreaming, Thérèse.”

“Okay, Celiane, for now you can keep your brother to yourself, but soon I will be looking for someone and I will be sure he looks at me.”

“He has seen you already, Thérèse.”

“He has seen me with his eyes closed, Celiane. Soon he will look at me with his eyes open.”

I would never tell Thérèse about the girls in Moy’s sketches. If she knew about them, she would die of jealousy.

LATER

This afternoon we made the dous for Manman to sell at the market tomorrow. First, we boiled the milk from our cows with the sugar that Manman bought at the market, and then we put in the peanuts and coconut chunks. It is my job to shell the peanuts and Moy’s to shred the coconut.

While the dous was cooling off, we made a cassette for Papa. We sat together and took turns talking to him.

Manman usually speaks first.

“Victor,” she says, “we, your family, are happy to have this chance to talk to you again. We welcomed with great joy the words you sent us last month. Now I will let the children greet you.”

Moy leans over to speak. He begins by clearing his throat. “Papa, thank you for the money you continue to send for my schooling. I am progressing well. The corn is coming along fine. The cows are okay. I will speak to you again next month.”

After I say a few things to Papa, Manman takes the cassette machine to her room.