Bronx Masquerade Read Online Free PDF Page B

see how funny he thinks that is, ’cause there’s sure nothing funny about being called ugly. So why does Mom let him do it? Sometimes I think she loves him more than me. Otherwise, she wouldn’t let him tear me down like that.
    One of these days, he’s going to call me ugly, and I’m going to ugly myself on outta there. I don’t know where I’ll go, but it’ll be far away from him. Then Mom won’t have to worry about defending me. And I won’t have to waste energy being angry because she hardly ever does.
    She’s all right in private, though. She tells me to ignore my stepfather, says I’ve got a lot to work with, that I can make myself over with hair and makeup. When I’m older. For now, I can barely get out of the house with lipstick. Meanwhile, I sit at my sewing machine and dream about the great transformation I’m going to make someday. As if I could use pinking shears to cut out a new face for myself.
    Right. Dream on.

OPEN MIKE
    Cocoon
    BY JUDIANNE ALEXANDER
     
     
    Her cocoon is see-through.
Inside, she is busy
with pattern and pinking shears.
If the ears are too long,
she’ll snip them.
If the mouth is too wide,
she’ll stitch up the corners.
Her needle and thread
hold more magic
than any wand.
With her chalk,
she can outline
a fine and voluptuous shape.
The nape of the neck
is a perfect place
to tuck and fold.
Her straight pins hold
the skin together, just so.
A quick basting stitch
lets her know where
to set her seams,
her cuffs, her hem.
After all, her arms and legs
mustn’t be too long.
She mustn’t stand too tall
Perfect beauty is what
she’s after.
She’s already had enough
laughter in her life.
The day she clips her way
out of her cocoon,
the only sound
she plans to hear
is a deafening cheer.

Tyrone
    Don’t none of these girls like the way they look? I don’t get it. Guys don’t have that problem. Not the guys I know. Would somebody clue me in?

Lupe
    Judianne tapped me on the shoulder this morning and passed me a note real quick before Mr. Ward could see. It was from Leslie. “Are you okay?” it said. I turned and flashed her my “okay” smile. The smile was for real. I’m fine today. Pero, last night? Forget it. I broke up with Marco and I was a mess.
    It was so silly. I been planning to break up with him for weeks. I mean, I hardly ever seen him any-ways. Plus, I’ve been thinking, if I’m ever going to have a baby, I need to find a better father than Marco, somebody who’s got time for me, at least. I don’t want my baby and me to be alone, like Gloria and Angel. She got it harder than I thought. Still, I wasn’t in no hurry to break up with Marco, because that would make it official: Lupe Algarin is alone. I can’t hardly breathe thinking about it.
    I busted up with Marco over the phone, which is good because, right after I hung up, I felt this big hole rip open inside of me, and I started crying like little Rosa does when she’s hungry and her bottle is empty and her mom has just left the room. Once I calmed down, I called Leslie. But as soon as I heard her voice, the tears started coming again.
    “I’m sorry,” I said, trying to hide my sniffles. “I shouldn’t have called.”
    “Lupe, what’s wrong?”
    “I don’t want to bother you.”
    “You’re not bothering me. Anyway, that’s what friends are for. Now, what happened?”
    I told her about Marco, and how I left him, and how he didn’t even seem to care that much, and how I was all alone now. She was quiet for a minute. Then she said, “Lupe, sounds to me like you were already alone.”
    “I know, but—”
    “Never mind. It’s okay. You’re not really alone, anyhow. You have friends. You have me.”
    “Yeah. I guess.”
    Leslie said she feels lonely sometimes too. She told me about how it was right after her mom died. I really listened because she doesn’t talk about her mother much. She said that after the funeral, and even months after she moved in with her