"No. Some just get too caught up with sex and lose control. You can be the smartest girl in school, the best reader, have the highest grades, but when it comes to your hormones , well, just be careful," she said.

"It doesn't seem fair," I said.

"What?"

"That men don't face the same risks."

Mommy laughed. "Well, let that be another reason why you don't let a young man talk you into something you don't want to do. Maybe if men knew what it was like to give birth, they wouldn't be so nonchalant about it all."

"They should feel the same labor pains," I said.

"And get sick in the morning and walk around with their stomachs hanging low and their backs aching," Mommy added.

"And get urges to eat pickles and peanut butter sandwiches."

"And then have contractions."

We both roared and then hugged.

Daddy, coming up the stairs, heard us and knocked on the door. "Exactly what are you two females giggling about now?" he asked.

"Pregnant men," Mammy said.

"Huh?"

We laughed again.

"Women are not just another sex; they're a different species altogether," Daddy declared. That only made us laugh harder.

After I had my hair the way I wanted it to look, I picked up the dress I would wear under my graduation gown. Then I opened the box that contained my cap and gown and screamed.

"What is it, Pearl?" Mommy gasped.

"My mortarboard's gone, Mommy."

"What? That can't be." She looked herself and then she lifted her eyes. "Your brothers," she declared and marched out. I followed her in my graduation gown as we descended the stairs, Mommy shouting for Pierre and Jean. They came running down the hallway, Pierre right behind Jean.

"Did you take your sister's graduation cap?" she demanded, her hands on her hips.

Pierre looked guiltily at Jean, who shook his head. "Jean? Are you telling a fib?"

"What's happening?" Daddy demanded, hurrying up behind us.

"Pearl's graduation cap is missing, and I think these two imps have an idea where we can find it," Mommy said, her eyes still on the twins. Pierre's gaze dropped quickly.

"Boys," Daddy said in a stern voice.

"I saw a hat on the statue of Adonis in the garden," Jean confessed.

"What?" Daddy and Mommy looked at each other, and then we all traipsed out to the garden.

There was my graduation cap on the statue. People had been going past it all day and no one had noticed it or commented on it. Daddy's lips curled into a quick smile and then became taut and thin after he looked at Mommy's face. He got the cap for me and then turned to the twins, who looked terrified.

"How could you pull such a prank on your sister? You both know how nervous she is."

"It was all my idea," Pierre said.

"No it wasn't; it was mine," Jean insisted.

Daddy looked at the statue and then at them. "My guess is that Jean boosted Pierre up so he could put that cap on the statue's head. Am I right, boys?" Pierre nodded.

"I think tonight you two will go directly to your rooms and miss the party."

"Oh, no!" Jean exclaimed. "We just meant to tease Pearl. We were going to tell her where it was."

"Nevertheless . . ."

"It's all right, Daddy," I said. "They'll be little angels from now on, won't you, little brothers?" I said. They both nodded vigorously, grateful for my forgiveness.

"Well, if your sister can forgive you, you're lucky. You should do everything you can to see that this is the happiest night of her life," Daddy warned them.

"We will," Pierre promised.

"Uh-huh. We will," Jean said.

"Get dressed and look very neat," Daddy said. They turned and scurried back into the house.

Mommy and Daddy gazed at each other and then at the statue before the three of us broke into laughter.

It seemed to break the ice that had formed around me. I wasn't as afraid of what was to come.

But maybe I should have been. Maybe it was better to always be a little frightened of the future, so you would be careful. Maybe that was why Mommy believed so strongly in good and bad gris-gris and crossed herself three times if we ever came upon a funeral.

Somehow I knew I would know for sure sooner than I ever dreamed.


2

  Just Think Happy Thoughts

Before I left for school to get ready for the graduation ceremony, Mommy came up to my room and helped me choose the dress I would wear at my party. We styled my hair and she talked a little about her school life in the bayou and her own graduation ceremony. Mommy and Gisselle had attended a private school in Baton Rouge their senior year, but according to Mommy, it was an unpleasant experience, except for her art class and her getting to know Louis Clairborne, a famous musician who occasionally played recitals in New Orleans and always came to our home for dinner when he was in the city. Whenever he came to our house, he always brought the twins and me something special from one of his European tours. I had dolls and music boxes from France and Holland.

"Well, Mommy," I said after Aubrey came to tell me Claude had arrived to take me to the graduation exercises, "Here I go." I followed that with a tiny whimper.

"Stop worrying," she said and hugged me. As I started out, she cried, "Wait."

I turned and saw her sit on the vanity table chair and bend over to untie her good luck dime from her ankle.

"I was going to give this to you before you left for college at the end of the summer, but I want you to have it now, Pearl."

"Oh, no, Mommy. That's your good luck. I can't take that."

"Of course you can. I can pass it on to you."

"But then you won't have it," I warned.

"It's time for you to have it, Pearl. Please take it," she pleaded. "It will mean a great deal to me."

"I know how you feel about this special dime, Mommy," I said shaking my head but moving forward to take it.

"Sit down and I'll fasten it around your ankle," she told me. I did so. "There," she said, patting my knee. "I know you think it's silly, but whatever magic it has had for me it will have for you, too."

"I don't think it's silly, Mommy, but what about you? You won't be wearing it anymore."

"I've had more magic than anyone deserves. Look at the wonderful family I have and the success I've had in my art. Now I live to see you and the boys enjoy your opportunities."

"Thank you, Mommy."

"But don't tell your father just yet," she warned throwing a glance at the doorway. "He thinks I get too carried away with the old beliefs, and he'll only bawl me out for imposing them on you."

Mommy and I never kept serious secrets from Daddy, but there were a few things we didn't tell him. "We can tell him afterward," she added.

"Okay, Mommy." We hugged again and I was off. Claude was waiting outside by his car, pacing impatiently.

"Hi," I called and hurried down the steps. He stepped forward to kiss me. Lately he was shoving his tongue into my mouth every time. This time he not only did that but held me so close for so long that I had to pull free.

"Please, Claude. We're right in front of my house!" He shrugged, brushing off the reprimand as if it were a mosquito on his shoulder.

"Well, the day has arrived. Our release from prison," he declared.

"Is that what you thought school was, Claude?"

"Hey, we won't have adults looking over our shoulders as much from now on. To me, that's a release, and tonight"—he smiled—"is our time to howl, right?" He tried to kiss me again.

"I guess so," I said, stepping toward the car and away from him. Claude's exuberance frightened me a little. He was like a young man ready to march through locked doors.

"Don't look so sad," he said. He opened the car door, and I slipped in quickly. "Only a few others will be at Lester's tonight," he told me after getting in beside me. "No deadbeats. And we might have a little more than booze," he added and winked.

"More than booze? What do you mean?"

"You know." He winked again.

"I know what I don't want to see you do, and you know what I won't do," I added firmly. We had had this discussion before. Claude stopped smiling.

"Ease up. You only graduate from high school once," he said.

I pressed my lips together and swallowed back the words that would surely cause an argument. For now I had more important things on my mind--namely, my speech.

There was so much excitement at the school when we arrived. I joined Catherine and some of our friends in the girls' room for a last minute put-together. Girls were borrowing lipstick, spraying on cologne, dabbing their cheeks with makeup, and many were smoking. Diane offered me a cigarette, and I refused, as usual.

"Right. The little doctor doesn't want to poison her lungs," she quipped, and the other girls laughed.

"That's true, Diane. The fact is, just standing in here and breathing the secondhand smoke is dangerous. That's already been proven."

The girls around me looked glum for a moment.

"That's so stupid. What do you think, you're going to live forever?" Diane retorted. Her friends smiled.

"No, but I know what it's like to get lung cancer. It isn't pleasant," I said sharply.

"Miss Goody Two-shoes. Just listen to her. What a drag. I hope your speech isn't depressing. This is supposed to be a happy occasion." Everyone was looking at me.

"It's not depressing," I said defensively. "Excuse me a moment," I said. "I've got to use the bathroom."

Laughter followed me into the stall. I heard them suddenly quiet down and start filing out. When I emerged, there was no one left. Confused, but happy that I didn't have to argue anymore, I left too. It wasn't until I had slipped my graduation gown on and put on my cap that I realized I must have left my speech in the bathroom. In a panic, I ran back. But it wasn't there!

Maddeningly frantic, I ran up and down the corridor, questioning every girl in the line, but no one knew anything.

"What's up?" Claude asked.

"My speech is missing. Someone took it when I went to the bathroom," I told him.

"No kidding. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know."

I turned to Catherine. She looked as if she wanted to say something but was too afraid. I spun around, desperate. Mr. Stegman, the teacher in charge of the procession, was ordering me to get in place.

"I can't find my speech!" I told him. "I had it with me when I went into the bathroom, but it's not there!"

"Oh, dear," he said and went to fetch Dr. Foster, the principal.

"Did you look real good, Pearl? Go back and check once more," he suggested. "I'll hold the procession back a few more minutes."

I gazed at Catherine.

"It has to be there," she offered. A horrid thought occurred to me. I returned to the bathroom and threw open the stall next to the one I had used. There was my speech, floating in the toilet.

"Oh, no!" I cried and dipped into the water to retrieve it. Many of the words had been washed away. I wiped down the paper as carefully as I could with a towel and then went out to take my place at the head of the procession.

"You found it?" Dr. Foster asked.

I held up the soggy sheets.

"How did that happen?"

"Yes," I said loud enough for everyone in my class to hear. "How did it happen?"

My heart was pounding so hard I thought I was sure to make a fool of myself in front of all the families and guests. I don't know how my legs carried me down the corridor and out the door, but I had no choice.

I really didn't have time to worry about myself. We marched to the stage that had been erected outside for our graduation exercises and took our seats. I tried not to look at the audience. There was so much noise—laughter, chatter, babies crying, small children being warned to sit quietly—that it sounded like bedlam. No one would hear my speech anyway, I thought. Why worry?

We had a warm, bright day for our ceremony with a light breeze that made the flag flutter and strands of hair dance over our shoulders. The sky was turquoise with patches of fluffy clouds. In the distance I could hear the bellow of the steamboats preparing to carry tourists up the Mississippi.

After the introductions and some short remarks by our principal, I was called to the lectern. My legs wobbled as I stood up. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, opened my eyes, and walked to the lectern. My classmates were dead silent, all wondering what I would do. I searched the audience until I found Mommy gazing at me confidently, and then the words just came. I didn't need to look at the paper. The words were printed in my head.