LaRose(110)

Dad? Coochy? LaRose?

Thanks so much, said Josette to her sister, holding out her hand. I’ll take it back now.

Oh, sweet! It must be a surprise for me. Snow held the medallion out of Josette’s reach. You’re such a good sister! Making me a present! Awww, ever cute. I don’t deserve this!

For sure you don’t, shouted Josette. Give it back!

Is it for Hollis?

Josette snatched the circle and pricked her finger. She began to bead again, then dropped the medallion and put her finger in her mouth.

See now? You made me bleed on it.

Ooooo. Old-time love medicine.

Bad medicine!

Mrs. Peace lifted her foot from the sewing pedal. She snapped her thread against the cutter.

You don’t drop woman’s blood on a man’s belonging, she said.

Mmmm. Snow wagged her eyebrows at Josette. Miigwech for sharing that wisdom, Nokomis.

So Grandma, said Josette, poking her needle laboriously in and out. I thought only moon blood could hurt a man’s things. But it’s all of the blood inside our womanly bodies?

Oh, what do I know. Mrs. Peace shrugged. I was a teacher in the whiteman schools. New tradition rules come up all the time. You’ll laugh. Sam says to Malvern that she should wear a skirt to ceremonies so the spirits know she is a woman. Okay, says Malvern, soon as you wear a diaper thing, a breechcloth, or keep your pecker out so that the spirits know you are a man. And while you’re at it, you men should go back to using bows and arrows and walk everywhere you go. These traditions? You’d have to ask Ignatia-iban, but she’s off in the spirit world.

Mrs. Peace said this with energy, and waved her arm at the window as though Ignatia were off on a vacation enjoying herself.

So, a medallion for Hollis, said Snow. Does that mean . . .

We ever talked that way? No. But maybe I want to do something special for him. You got a problem with that?

Course not, said Snow. Here, let me help get that next color on.

Again, Josette surrendered her work and watched her older sister straighten out the beads and add more.

Can we put a movie on, Grandma?

You got one of those mechanical people movies?

We’re so psyched, said Snow. We found Terminator in the sale bin.

Mrs. Peace crowed. Make my day!

That’s Clint Eastwood, said Snow. He plays real guys. And he’s ancient.

Not to me. He’s just a pup.

You like Arnold, too.

Arnold’s in it? I’ll be back.

Yes!

They recited the lines and didn’t have to look up to watch it, although at key sections they glanced at the screen and meditatively drew their threads across the scored and crosshatched block of beeswax. The wax strengthened the thread.

Don’t forget to make a mistake, said Snow to Josette, you know, to let the spirit out.

Only the Creator is perfect, said Josette dutifully. You think bleeding on my beadwork is a mistake enough? Or that I got two rows out of place already?

Snow examined the medallion.

You’re covered with the Creator, she said, handing it back.

What a relief. Josette put her two fingers up. Me and Gizhe Manidoo. We’re like this again.

I’ve got this question in my mind, said their grandmother. Which husband is Ignatia-iban out two-stepping with in the spirit world?

Why would she pick one of her husbands, said Josette, when she had so many other ladies’ husbands to choose from?

Not to mention the unattached ones, either, said Snow.

She had a few, agreed Mrs. Peace.

What about you, Grandma?

Josette and Snow flicked glances at each other.

Oh me, said Mrs. Peace. I stayed faithful to your grandfather all my life.

They were quiet, out of both respect and pity. But still, Josette was curious.

Why did you stay so faithful?

Oh, I wasn’t so good—I was just tired of them. Men. They’re stressful. You’ll see.

We already know that, said Snow, who still kept her disappointing wrestler boyfriend’s hoodie on a hook in the back of the closet.

On the way back home Snow and Josette stopped to pick up Maggie. The girls went through the kitchen grabbing carrots and ranch dressing, then into their bedroom with the bowl. Snow drew the flimsy little bolt across the door frame, and they all felt private. She settled on her bed, graceful as a doe, wound her long hair in her fingers, curved herself around her long legs, and chomped a baby carrot.

Mmmmm? Her mouth was full of carrot but her face was serious.

Maggie looked up at the ceiling. Snow and Josette had been odd in the car on the way over, not jokey or at ease. Something was going on with them. Josette cleared her throat, but started coughing and fell over pounding on the bed, laughing until her fit stopped. She was wearing tight jeans. She jumped up, peeled them off, put on sweats. So maybe things were okay? But Josette spoke suddenly.

Hey Maggie, are you doing the thing with Waylon?

Well, yeah, said Maggie, relieved that was all it was.

Having full-on sex, said Snow, to make sure.

Maggie said, Errrrrr.

As your protective older sisters, said Josette.

Right, said Snow.

We want to make sure you are taking precautions. Like, he’s using a thingy?

Duh, said Maggie.

For reals, girl.

No, said Maggie.

If he’s giving you love, he gotta wear a glove, said Snow.