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One Tribe by M. Evelina
Galang
Chapter One, Selection Two
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A small-boned woman
with a wide painted smile kissed her on each cheek like they had known
each other forever. Sweetheart, youre so beautiful,
she said. I cant believe youre not married yet.
She waved her hand in the air, and called to her child, Anak, come
here. She leaned over and whispered, Im Anita Starr,
Tita Nita. I want you to meet my daughter. Shes gonna love you.
She ran her hands through Isabels hair. Look at you!
she said. What do they call you?
Isabel. She took a step away.
Tita Nita smelled of heavy perfume and nicotine. Isabel pulled her camera
strap over her shoulder.
Thats so long. Whats your
nickname? Isa?
She hated that nickname. Bel,
she answered.
Thats too American, Tita
Nita said. Im gonna call you Isa. Then, waving her arms,
she screamed, Anak, where are you? I said Im calling you!
Mrs. Starr
Anak, call me Tita Nita!
Okay. Tita, what kind of trouble are
they talking about? Tita Nita smiled as if she hadnt heard
her. With the kids, I mean.
What kids? Not ours. Our kids are
good. They just need a role model like you to show them the way.
She smiled again at Isabel and then called out for her daughter.
Thats so weird, Isabel thought. She
gulped her water down and looked through the crowd. Bodies swam left and
right, and then a small pathway opened up and she saw one of the girls
sauntering toward her. It was the girl with eyes blue as stained glass.
She wore hip-huggers that widened into big bells of black Spandex. Five-inch
heels lifted the girls small body up off the ground so that she
appeared to be floating right at Isabel. Her belly ring slipped in and
out from underneath a cropped T-shirt. When she reached Isabel, Tita Nita
put both arms around the girl and squeezed her tight. This is my
daughter, she said. Lourdes Starr. Shes gonna be a senior
this year and her daddy is an American. Louie Starr. She pointed
across the room, to a guy sitting at a table by himself. He looked like
an unkempt version of Dean Martin. Tita Nita reminded Isabel of her own
Auntie Baby, a well-meaning misguided tita. My Lourdes is gonna
learn a lot from you.
Isabel smiled at Lourdes. Weve
met. Hi, Lourdes.
Lourdes mumbled a greeting, her eyes shifting back and forth. When Isabels
cat was held against his will, his ears winged backed and his haunches
rose up like furry shoulders. Thats what Lourdes looked like, she
thought, only not as sweet. The daughter crawled out of her mothers
embrace. She smiled in a way that Isabel could not read. Flipping her
hair back, Lourdes turned and strutted back
to her homegirls.
Lourdes hated her. Isabel was sure of it. Then again, when she thought
of the week she had moved to town, she remembered that Lourdes hated everybody.
From the first chapter
of One Tribe by M. Evelina Galang
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New
Issues Poetry & Prose, Western Michigan University, Dept. of English,
1903 W. Michigan Ave., Kalamazoo, MI 49008-5331
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