on her own.
You shouldn’t try
handling this alone.”
I dropped my eyes,
grabbed my books,
and ran.
Team Spirit
Coach says
I have none
since I’m leaving the team
at the end of the season,
just before the biggest game.
“You looking to play
in the city club off-season?
‘Cause I gotta tell ya,
this ain’t the way
to hold your spot.”
What can I say?
Sorry, Coach, but I can’t play
because I’m pregnant?
Forget it.
So I just shrug and leave Coach
shaking his head.
And when Sethany finds out,
she stares me down
like I stabbed her in the back.
But I’ve got no choice.
I can’t tell them why.
I can’t even
tell myself.
Too Tender
They ache.
This morning
strapping on my bra
causes way too many
decibels of pain.
If anyone so much as
bumps into me,
they’d better plan
their eulogy.
Daydream
Any day now
my period will start.
Any day now
menstrual cramps will crush
the kernels of fear
quickly greening in me
like saplings.
Any day now
I’ll be plain old fifteen again,
a girl passing silly notes in class,
giggling at the sight
of condoms.
Wish-less
Cake or no cake,
I knew I was too old
for wishing.
36B
I study myself in the shower,
unable to deny
my breasts are bigger,
just like they show you
in those sex-ed movies.
I hold them up,
figure they must be
a 36B now.
It’s almost funny.
I used to wish for this.
Nobody Told Me, and If They Did, I Forgot
Why do I even bother
leaving the bathroom?
Leaving home?
I might as well
hang a sign around my neck:
Warning: Steer clear.
Girl about to barf.
Silent Lie
I hope Mom doesn’t make a habit
of coming home early.
“I know the regular season’s over,
but doesn’t your volleyball club
practice today?” she asks.
Here’s where lying
would come in handy.
I try another tack,
pretend not to hear her,
then hurry to my room,
calling over my shoulder,
“Homework!”
Punishment
What else would you call it?
I know girls
who have sex every day
and walk away.
Me, I break God’s law once,
and look what it gets me.
If this isn’t punishment,
I’m missing the point.
But then I think of Mary,
who God gave a baby
just because he wanted to,
and she didn’t do anything wrong.
So maybe punishment
is not the point
after all.
I don’t know, Lord.
I don’t know anything, right now.
Color me confused,
and scared.
Ad
I feel like
one of those ladies
in the commercial
about allergies.
She’s walking around in a fog,
and everything is fuzzy,
especially around the edges,
and no matter
how many times she blinks,
nothing seems clear.
That’s how it is for me.
I don’t want anybody
to notice, though.
So I try to smile
when I catch anyone
looking at me,
and I keep going
through the motions.
I used to love
the full-length mirror
on my bedroom door.
Not anymore.
Sleepless
I wake in the middle of the night,
fingers fluttering over my rising belly.
My mind is split between
worry and wonder.
This inchworm of a life
taking root in me
is suddenly real.
How did I get here?
How could I be so stupid?
What am I going to do now?
I reach for Mary, Mary,
searching for answers,
but the words all blur.
How many tears are left in me
is anybody’s guess.
All I know is,
I had enough to last me
through the night.
Bedtime
Home again,
I hurry to my chamber.
My cloak barely hides
the changing contour
of my belly.
Soon enough I will look
as though I swallowed the moon.
I must tell Joseph
that the life nesting in me
was placed there by Jehovah.
But why would he believe?
What if, convinced I have broken
God’s holy law,
he drags me before the priest,
has me judged and sentenced
to be stoned?
What if-
The bloodied face of Salome
floats to the surface of my mind.
Stop it! Stop it!
I order myself.
Where is your faith?
Do you truly believe
God Almighty would bless you
to carry his son,
then stand idly by
while both your lives are taken?
I bow my head,
soak in the silence,
and wait for my heart to slow.
Lord, forgive me.
I know you will protect us.
Please ready me for
whatever trials lie ahead.
Good News
Wringing my hands,
I wait by the well
at the foot of the last tel
Joseph must climb
on his way home.
He is pleased,
though surprised,
to see me.
We trade holy kisses
and mount the hill in silence.
Joseph is the first to speak.
“What brings you out
to meet me?”
“Well, I-I, uhm-”
“Yes?”
I look around,
then lead the way
to a grove of olive trees
where we can be alone.
“Mary,” says Joseph,
“why are you being
so mysterious?”
“Joseph,” I whisper,
“do you believe in
the mysterious?”
Before he can answer,
I squeeze out the truth.
Once the words
are in the air,
Joseph stares at me, silent.
The weight of the pain
and doubt in his eyes
presses me to the ground
and holds me there
till I feel faint
and finished.
Aftermath
&nb
sp; At long last,
Joseph finds his voice.
I tremble at the sound of it.
In pinched tones, he says,
“I care for you, Mary,
and will not turn you over
to the priest.
But come tomorrow,
I will give you papers
of divorcement.
You will then be free to go
wherever you wish,
only please,
go from here.”
A tear on his cheek,
Joseph turns his back on me
and heads for my father’s house,
our hearts blending
with the darkness.
Wrath
God, you must be
mad as hell.
I made you a promise
and stomped on it.
Go ahead.
Tell me you’re angry.
I know I’d be.
Can’t stand to look at me?
That makes two of us.
Lonely Night
seem made of rocks.
There is no sleep to be found.
Even my thoughts toss and turn.
If I were still a little girl,
I could curl up next to Mother,
let her tell me
everything will be alright.
Lord Jehovah,
please be my mother
tonight.
Fat
Who will want me?
No more tight abs to show off
at the beach.
No slender waist to catch
a cute boy’s eye.
Four months and look at me!
Soon, I won’t be able to see
my feet anymore.
Or, I could be lucky
and stay pretty small, like all
the women in our family.
Yeah. Like I’ve been lucky so far.
Look at me! I’m hideous!
There’s not much to do about it
except cover all the mirrors
in my room,
and race past
all the rest.
Comfort
I crawl into bed,
pull Mary’s words to my chin
like a warm blanket.
Her faith is so strong.
Maybe if I keep close
it just might rub off.
Morning Has Broken
I.
I rise
like any other morning,
inviting Jehovah
into my day.
“Shalom, Father,” I whisper.
Whatever waits for me
is at Jehovah’s choosing,
and I chose, long ago,
to put my trust in Him.
II.
Joseph arrives at my door
before breakfast,
no parchment of divorce
in either hand.
“Mary,” he says,
eyes gleaming with new light,
“in the dead of night,
in the deepest heart of sleep,
an angel came
and told me
all the words you spoke
were true.
He said that
I should marry you
as planned.”
The sun and I stand still.
“And?”
I wait, and wait,
and wait until
Joseph, my Joseph,
sings out,
“I will!”
If Only
Alone on the rooftop,
I mourn the sunset.
I am in no great haste
to keep the promise
I made myself at sunrise:
to tell my parents.
If only Joseph’s angel
would speak to them first!
Joseph kindly offered
to stand with me.
Yet, I declined. This
I must do on my own.
But what words can I use
to convince my parents that
everything will be alright?
Raised in God’s shadow,
nursed on the Mosaic Law,
I have been a regular at Temple
all my life,
have daily listened to
my mother humming psalms
as she grinds meal for flatbread.
I have priests for kinsmen,
and am daughter to
a righteous man.
So how, Lord,
am I to tell my parents
that their unmarried daughter
is with child?
And once my words shatter
their dreams for me,
will they ever be able
to look me in the eye again?
I breathe deep,
descend the stairs,
and pull Gabriel’s words round me
like a cloak.
One look at my face
and my mother draws near.
“Mary? What is it, child?”
My tears come quickly.
“Oh, Mother!”
Fear
Ask me what I fear most:
my mother’s eyes
welling with disappointment,
wondering where
she’d gone wrong.
Their Eyes
They watch me now.
They do not mean for me to notice,
but I do.
I wish I had some remedy
for their disbelief
and disappointment.
I cannot decide
which hurts worse.
Watching
These days,
I feel Mom’s eyes on me
every time I leave a room.
Some mornings,
she’s Lois Lane
grilling me over Frosted Flakes:
“I haven’t seen that shirt before.”
“Is that the new style,
shirt hanging out your pants?”
“Don’t girls wear belts anymore?”
“Honey, are you gaining a little weight?”
Sometimes, she’s Superman,
still as stone,
mum as Clark Kent,
but looking for all the world
like she’s got
X-ray vision.
That’s when I know
I can’t keep the truth from her
forever.
Warm-Up
Lately,
every day after school
I speed-walk round the track
once or twice,
doing my best to dodge
all the boys warming up
for baseball practice.
So what if I can’t play
my own sport right now?
I refuse to grow
gross and flabby
just because.
Eyes straight ahead,
I charge past
a clump of kids
and leave them
eating my dust.
Slickwillow@znet.com
“i’m pregnant,” I write.
“i guessed,” answered Sethany.
“there had 2 be some reason
ur sick all the time.
other kids notice 2 btw.
i was just waiting
4 u 2 tell me,
on ur own.”
“yeah. well, i don’t know
how i’m gonna tell my mom.”
“what did trey say?”
“didn’t tell him yet, either.”
“what r u waiting 4?”
I’m not sure
how to answer that.
Eventually, I type in
“armageddon.”
Friend
“Shalom!”
A voice melodious as a lyre
fills the family courtyard.
There is only one person it could be.
I throw my arms around Hadassah,
my girlhood friend.
As ever, I am happy when
she comes to visit me.
She greets my parents before
we climb to the roof
for a leisurely hour
of weaving and conversation.
After trading ordinary news,
we work side by side,
silent at our hand looms
while the sun lavishes her warmth
on our spring afternoon.
Too soon, though,
the silence grows heavier than
I am used to.
Hadassah is the first
to shatter the stillness.
“You have changed
since I saw you last,” she says,
noticing that I am larger
than she remembers,
though not knowing why.
Thankfully, the billowing
folds of my garment
do much to hide my belly
four months swollen with child.
I wave off Hadassah’s comment,
as if there were
no truth to it,
and weave on,
wondering if she will
press the point.
Thankfully, she does not.
Yet, I can almost feel her
penetrating stare,
hungry for the one secret
I can never share.
But suddenly I realize
the perfect way
to throw her off the scent.
“Have I mentioned
that Joseph and I
are soon to wed?”
Hadassah’s hands leave the loom
long enough to clap for joy.
“I knew it!” she cries.
“Tell me everything.”
Gone Shoppin’
I try on shirts
with Sethany for company.
She stares at me,
stares at my reflection
in the mirror,
eyes lingering on
my lower half.
She makes faces
at my belly
till I have to laugh.
Of course, we both know
there’s nothing funny