I shake my head.

“Isabel taught me to swim,” Olivia says.

“Of course you remember the silly songs she made up?”

“Auntie,” I say, “don’t forget to add the onions.” I want her to stop this quizzing.

“I remember the silly songs,” Olivia says, then begins to sing “Hiccups and Hibiscus.”

“You better finish your crab,” I tell her. “It lost its life to be your dinner.”

Auntie scoops some fried rice into a bowl for her and Uncle Fernando, then motions me to follow her to the front door. “I should have talked about your mother more before now. Forgive me. I guess I didn’t want to make you sad. But Isabel, you must try to remember. Remember the good, forget the bad.”

Ana, Who Likes Animal Crackers, Peanut Butter, and Comics

Ana Cruz comes by our store today. I try not to stare at her big round belly, but it’s hard to avoid it. Ana has always been skinny. She looks so different now. Like a gingerbread girl who’s been rolled out wider with a rolling pin. Auntie Bernadette says she can always tell when a Chamorro girl is pregnant because her nose spreads. Ana is half Chamorro. I study her nose.

Ana strolls down the aisles. She picks up a box of animal crackers and peanut butter and goes over to the shelf where we keep newspapers, magazines, and comic books. She flips through a Superman comic book. It’s well-worn.

“They’re all old. I forgot to order some new ones.” I don’t tell her that Tata said that he wasn’t going to order any more. Everyone reads them. No one buys. He told me to tell the customers, “If you read, you purchase.” But I ignore his advice and let people read them. I even let some of the boys take them to the cabana.

Ana continues to read, then carries it over to the register to buy with her cookies and peanut butter.

“Half price,” I tell her when I ring in the comic. “It’s so old anyway.”

“Thanks,” she says, then shyly glances at her stomach. “I guess you know that I’m going to have a baby?”

“Uh, yes. Congratulations.”

“Dominic is the father.”

“That’s what I figured. Since you’re always together. I mean since you’re going out.”

“Your auntie says it’s a girl.”

I nod. “She should know.”

Taotaomo’na

“I don’t believe in ghosts!” Mary Kelly takes a bite of pickled papaya and smacks her lips.

Mary Kelly laughs at the taotaomo’na. She thinks the taotaomo’na is made up like Santa, something you believe in when you’re little and grow out of. That girl better watch out. I know firsthand what can happen if someone messes around and doesn’t respect the taotaomo’nas.

“Where is he?” Mary Kelly asks when I tell her taotaomo’nas live in banyan trees like the one we’re sitting under.

“Taotaomo’nas are not he,” I say. “They are our ancient ancestors.”

“Don’t go into the jungle without their permission,” Delia says.