Teresita sighs and motions me outside. “Come on.”

In her backyard, I ask, “Are you mad at me?”

“Don’t be kaduka.”

“You’re the one who’s kaduka.”

Teresita peers toward the jungle.

“Queen?” I say. “Why do you want to be fiesta queen?”

Teresita doesn’t say anything.

“You’re the one who made fun of those girls, the entire royal court!”

“I don’t want to be stupid queen,” she says. “I want my chickens back.”

“What do chickens have to do with running for queen?”

“Lorenzo told me if I ran for queen and won, he’d give back my chickens.”

“What if you lose?”

She stares at the ground. “I have to stay away from any cockfights that he attends.”

“Teresita, Lorenzo goes to every cockfight—Dededo, Malesso, all of them.”

The way she looks at me, I realize that she already knows this. Teresita has made a pact with the devil.

An Unwelcome Visitor

Frank isn’t the only one who bleeds. Today I started my period. I want to tell someone, but who?

For a year I’ve lied to my friends and told them that I started. Last year Delia went on and on about how Tonya had just got her period. “I started last year,” she’d said then. “How about you?”

“Same,” I said. How could I tell her any different? She acted like it was a crime to start later than sixth grade.

I didn’t know that one lie would turn into many others. Like when Delia and Tonya argued what was best—tampons or napkins—or when they discussed whether or not they should use a vinegar douche the day after their periods ended. I should have stayed quiet, but I thought, Then they’ll know. So I said, “Douche, of course.” I’d seen the commercials with the ladies in the chiffon nightgowns walking on the beach. They recommended it—feminine freshness, they said. Even though I had no idea what they were talking about.

I have no tampons, sanitary napkins, or vinegar douche. Where’s my mother when I need her most?

Auntie Bernadette to the Rescue

“You are a woman now,” Auntie says. This is exactly why I didn’t want to ask her for help. But since our store doesn’t carry any feminine products, I had no choice.

“We’ll drive to the grocery store in Yona. I have to pick up a few items there anyway.”

At the store, I select a blue box of tampons, but Auntie shakes her head and selects a huge box of sanitary napkins with wings. “These are best.”

I return the tampons to the shelf, now realizing I could have walked to the pier store. They probably had the products there.

When we go to the checkout counter, Auntie tells the cashier, “These aren’t for me. That time has passed by. They’re for my niece. She’s a woman now.”

This Week’s List for Vendors

7 dozen eggs
7 gallons of milk
2 cases of Coca-Cola
9 cases of Miller Lite
4 cases of Budweiser
3 packages of tampons
2 packages of sanitary napkins