Indigo Summer. Monica McKayhan

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СКАЧАТЬ And boys were always trying to talk to me, telling me how cute I am, and making comments about my body. Now that’s what really got on my nerves, the comments about my body. My body was the one thing that made me uncomfortable, because it was always changing. I knew how smart I was, knew I could dance, and I could beat everybody, even Nana, in a game of Monopoly. But when it came to my body, now that was a whole different story. My breasts were always changing, and I wasn’t built like a light pole anymore. There were bumps growing in some places, lumps in others, and my hips were filling out a little. Even my booty was coming full circle, and was more round than I remembered it being in the fifth grade. Now that was weird, but the weirdest thing of all came three years ago, sixth grade, right after recess was over one day on the playground. I remember it just like it happened yesterday.

      Miss Brown had blown her whistle to let us know that it was time to come inside. It was after lunch, and it was on a Friday. I remember because I was so excited that Nana Summer was coming for a visit that weekend, and I knew she’d be at my house by the time I got home from school. My stomach had been cramping for about three days, and when I told my mother about it, she gave me some Midol and asked, “You started your period, Indi?”

      “No, ma’am.”

      “Well, if you’re having cramps, it probably means that it’s coming soon.”

      “What’s it for, Mama?” I asked her, “I mean, why do women have periods?”

      “All women do, Indi. It’s just a part of life.” That was all my mother said, before she took me to the CVS drugstore and bought me sanitary products and told me how to use them. I could tell that she was just as uncomfortable talking about it as I was.

      So I left it alone, until that day on the playground when I felt a warm gush in my underpants and I took off running at full speed to the restroom. It was the most embarrassing moment of my life, and on the bus all the way home, my jean jacket tied around my waist, I felt like a freak or something. Thought all of my classmates were staring at me. As if they’d all known.

      I was so happy to see Nana standing in our kitchen when I got home. I grabbed her around the waist, and hugged her so tightly from behind.

      “Can we talk?” I whispered in her ear, as she stirred something on the stove. It smelled like spaghetti. “In my room?”

      “Sure, baby,” she said, turned the fire down underneath the pot and followed me to my bedroom. “What is it?”

      “Do I look different today?”

      “Different how?” she asked.

      “Do I look more grown-up than I did the last time you saw me.”

      “A little taller maybe. But I was just here at Christmastime, Indi. What’s this about?”

      “It came today,” I whispered. I didn’t want the rest of the world hearing, and certainly not my daddy if he was anywhere in the house. Surely she knew, just as everyone else probably did. Even Jade had seemed standoffish that day.

      “What came today?” Nana asked.

      “You know,” I said. “I started it.”

      “Indi, what on earth are you talking about?” Nana asked, feeling my forehead with her back hand. “Are you feeling okay, you look a little flush.”

      “I got my period today, Nana,” I whispered.

      “Oh, that’s what this is all about.” She laughed a little, as if this was funny. How could she laugh, when my insides were in turmoil? “Perfectly natural thing for a girl your age, Indi. We’ve all traveled this road before.”

      “What’s it all mean, Nana?”

      “Well, it means that you’re not a little girl anymore. You’re a young lady now. And you have to conduct yourself as such.”

      “It means I can’t play with my Barbies anymore?” I asked, already torn by the decision to continue to play with them or to pack them away in a cardboard box. Twelve was such an awkward age. You don’t know whether to play or act grown-up.

      “You can play with your Barbies as long as you want,” she said. “But you should also start thinking about other things, like helping your mama out around this house, cleaning up behind yourself a little more, making better grades in school. You need to be more responsible.”

      “Why do we have to have menstrual cycles, Nana? Does it have something to do with boys?”

      “Well, it means that now you can become pregnant,” Nana said, taking a seat on the edge of my bed and inviting me to sit down next to her. “Every month your body produces an egg which travels through what’s called your fallopian tubes, and on down to your uterus.” Nana drew a line with her fingertips to show me where my fallopian tubes began and where my uterus began. “In order to prepare for this egg, your uterus creates this thick lining to make a nice cushion for it.”

      “What’s the egg for?” I frowned.

      “The egg comes to connect with the sperm of a man in order to make a baby.” Nana wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “That’s why it’s even more important now that you don’t fool around with boys.”

      “I hate boys anyway.”

      “You won’t always hate boys. In fact, you’ll grow to like them very much. And you’ll find yourself in situations where your hormones will get the best of you.”

      “What are hormones?”

      “That’s a whole other discussion. We’ll talk about that another time,” Nana said. “Now as I was saying, the purpose of the egg coming is to connect with the sperm. But the two should never connect until you’re married to the man of your dreams and you have both talked about starting a family. You understand?”

      “Yes.”

      “And until that time, every month, your body will still produce that old egg, and in anticipation for it, your uterus—” she drew a line with her fingertips again “—will always make this nice cushion for it. Think of it as a pincushion, like the one I use when I’m hemming your dresses.”

      “A pincushion?” I almost fell out laughing.

      “Yes, a pincushion.” Nana smiled. “And after a little while, when the uterus sees that it no longer needs the extra blood and tissue, that old pincushion will begin to dissolve itself.”

      “And that’s when my period comes?”

      “That’s right,” she said. “Every month like clockwork. At least until you get to be my age.”

      “Your body doesn’t make pincushions anymore, Nana?”

      “It’s a whole lotta things my body don’t do anymore.” She laughed. “You just keep on living, child. You’ll see.”

      “I love you, Nana.”

      “I love you, too, baby.” She took my breath away when she hugged me. “Now come on in here and help me with dinner. But first I want you to get this room cleaned. And do it without your mama having to ask you to sometimes. Okay?”

      “Okay, СКАЧАТЬ