Got It
“I think I got mine,” Jamie said.
“Got your what?” Opal asked.
“You know.” Jamie’s face scrunched up, like she was disgusted or maybe a little sick.
Opal thought for a moment about what she might know that would make her face scrunch up, and then she remembered that talk from Aunt Frances about bleeding once a month and womanhood and all of that.
“Really?” Opal had said after listening to Aunt Frances go on about menstrual pads and tampons. Aunt Frances had explained that Opal might feel crampy and uncomfortable for a few days. “That doesn’t sound so good,” was Opal’s response. “Can I just skip it?”
Aunt Frances had laughed a little before saying, “It’s a good thing. It means that someday you can have babies.”
But it did not seem like a good thing to Opal. Opal really, truly did not want anything to do with pregnancy. She remembered when Mrs. Greystone, her history teacher, had announced she would be having a baby. Her belly had grown larger and her face puffy. Opal noticed that Mrs. Greystone left the classroom more often and seemed to have trouble sitting and standing. And then one day she went away and a substitute showed up. Opal did not understand why anyone would wish for any of that.
“I don’t want babies,” Opal had said.
“Of course you don’t want them now, but you will,” Aunt Frances had replied. “All girls want to be mothers.”
“But you’re not a mother.” Opal had immediately regretted the words. She saw Aunt Frances’ face go blank. “I’m sorry,” Opal had said. “I didn’t mean…”
Aunt Frances waved Opal’s words away. “I said all girls want to be mothers, not that all girls actually get to be mothers. There’s a difference.”
Whatever other girls wanted, Opal did not. So when Jamie announced the beginning of her monthly bleeding, Opal simply said, “I don’t care.” And then she walked away.
She would have nothing to do with that business.
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