"Oh."
On Friday morning there was a lot of giggling. Finally, at two o'clock, the girls lined up and went to the auditorium. We took up the first three rows of seats. There was a lady on the stage, dressed in a gray suit. She had a big behind. Also, she wore a hat.
"Hello, girls," she said. She clutched a hanky which she waved at us sometimes. "I'm here today to tell you about
Then the lights went out and we saw the movie. The narrator of the film pronounced it menstroo-ation. "Remember," the voice said, "it's menstroo-ation." Gretchen, who was next to me, gave me a kick and I kicked Nancy on the other side. We held our hands over our mouths so we wouldn't laugh.
The film told us about the ovaries and explained why girls menstroo-ate. But it didn't tell us how it feels, except to say that it is not painful, which we knew anyway. Also, it didn't really show a girl getting it. It just said how wonderful nature was and how we would soon become women and all that. After the film the lady in the gray suit asked if there were any questions.
Nancy raised her hand and when Gray Suit called on her Nancy said, "How about Tampax?"
Gray Suit coughed into her hanky and said, "We don't advise
until you are considerably older."
Then Gray Suit came down from the stage and passed out booklets called
when
One week later Gretchen got it. We had a special PTS meeting that afternoon.
"I got it last night. Can you tell?" she asked us.
"Oh, Gretchen! You lucky!" Nancy shrieked. "I was sure I'd be first. I've got more than you!"
"Well, that doesn't mean much," Gretchen said, knowingly.
"How did it happen?" I asked. "Well, I was sitting there eating my supper when I felt like something was dripping from me."
"Go on-go on," Nancy said.
"Well, I ran to the bathroom, and when I saw what it was I called my mother."
"And?" I asked.
"She yelled that she was eating."
"And?" Janie said.
"Well, I yelled back that it was important."
"So-so-" Nancy prompted.
"So… uh… she came and I showed her," Gretchen said.
"Then what?" Janie asked.
"Well, she didn't have any stuff in the house. She uses Tampax herself-so she had to call the drugstore and order some pads."
"What'd you do in the meantime?" Janie asked.
"Kept a wash cloth in my pants," Gretchen said.
"Oh-you didn't!" Nancy said, laughing.
"Well, I had to," Gretchen said.
"Okay-so then what?" I asked.
"Well… in about an hour the stuff came from the drugstore."
"Then what?" Nancy asked.
"My mother showed me how to attach the pad to the belt. Oh… you know… "
Nancy was mad. "Look Gretchen, did we or did we not make a deal to tell each other absolutely everything about getting it?"
"I'm telling you, aren't I?" Gretchen asked.
"Not enough," Nancy said. "What's it
"Bad ones?" Janie asked.
"Not bad. Just different," Gretchen said. "Lower down, and across my back."
"Does it make you feel older?" I asked.
"Naturally," Gretchen answered. "My mother said now I'll really have to watch what I eat because I've gained too much weight this year. And she said to wash my face well from now on-with soap."
"And that's it?" Nancy said. "The whole story?"
"I'm sorry if I've disappointed you, Nancy. But really, that's all there is to tell. Oh, one thing I forgot. My mother said I may not get it every month yet. Sometimes it takes a while to get regular."
"Are you using that Private Lady stuff?" I asked.
"No, the drugstore sent
"Did she really?" my mother asked.
"Yes," I said.
"I guess you'll begin soon too."
"How old were you Mom-when you got it?"
"Uh… I think I was fourteen."
"
"If you don't start by the time you're fourteen I'll take you to the doctor. Now stop worrying!"
"How can I stop worrying when I don't know if I'm going to turn out normal?"
"I promise, you'll turn out normal."
Are you there God? It's me, Margaret. Gretchen, my friend, got her period. I'm so jealous God. I hate myself for being so jealous, but I am. I wish you'd help me just a little. Nancy 's sure she's going to get it soon, too. And if I'm last I don't know what I'll do. Oh please God. I just want to be normal.
Nancy and her family went to Washington over Lincoln 's birthday weekend. I got a postcard from her before she got back which means she must have mailed it the second she got there. It only had three words on it.
Are you there God? It's me, Margaret. Life is getting worse every day. I'm going to be the only one who doesn't get it. I know it God. Just like I'm the only one without a religion. Why can't you help me? Haven't I always done what you wanted? Please… let me be like everybody else.
16
My mother took me to Lincoln Center twice. We used Grandma's subscription tickets. It wasn't as much fun as with Grandma, because number one, I didn't get to ride the bus alone, and number two, my mother thought the concert itself was more important than looking at the people. I wrote Grandma a letter.
Dear Grandma,
I miss you. Florida sure sounds like fun. School is fine. So are Mom and Dad. I am fine too. I've only had one cold so far and two viruses. One was the throwing up kind. I forgot to tell you this over the phone, but when we went to Lincoln Center there was slush all over the place so I couldn't sit by the fountain. I had to wear boots too, and my feet sweated during the concert. Mom wouldn't let me take them off, the way you do. It snowed again yesterday. I'll bet you don't miss that, do you! But snow is more fun in New Jersey than in New York. For one thing, it's cleaner.
Love, Margaret
Grandma wrote back:
Dear Margaret,
I miss you too. Thank you for your nice letter. I hope when you were sick your mother took you to a good doctor. If I had been home I would have asked Dr. Cohen who he recommends in New Jersey. There must be one or two good doctors there. You probably caught cold because you kept your boots on at Lincoln Center. Your mother should know better! From now on, take off your boots the way we always do-no matter what your mother says! Only don't tell her I said so. I met a very nice man at my hotel. His name is Mr. Binamin. He comes from New York too. We have dinner together and sometimes see a show. He is a widower with three children (all married). They think he should get married again. He thinks he should get married again. But I'm not saying anything! I hope your mother and father will let you come stay with me during spring vacation. Would you like that? I'm writing a letter to ask their permission.
Be careful and dress warmly! Write to me again.
All my love, Grandma
Dear Grandma,
Mom and Dad say I can probably visit you during spring vacation, but that it's too soon to make definite plans. I'm so excited I could die! I'm counting the days already. I've never been on a plane, as you know. And Florida sounds like so much fun! Also, I want to see what's going on with you and that Mr. Binamin. You never tell us a thing when you call! I am fine. The snow melted. Mom is painting a new picture. This one is of apricots, grapes and ivy leaves. Did I tell you my friends Nancy and Gretchen got their periods?
See you soon, I hope.
Love and kisses, Margaret
17
On the first Sunday in March Nancy invited me to spend the day in New York with her family. Evan brought Moose. It was pretty exciting riding all the way to the city with Moose Freed in the same car, except the Wheelers used their station wagon. The boys sat in the back and Nancy and I were in the middle, so if I wanted to see Moose I had to turn around and if I ride looking backwards like that I get car sick.
We went to Radio City Music Hall. Grandma used to take me there when I was little. My parents always say it's strictly for the tourists. I wanted to sit next to Moose but he and Evan found two seats off by themselves.
After the show the Wheelers took us to the Steak Place for dinner. Nancy and I ordered, then excused ourselves to go to the ladies' room. We were the only two in there, which was lucky for us because there were only two toilets and we both had to go pretty bad. Just as I was finishing up I heard Nancy moan.
"Oh no-oh no-"
"What is it, Nancy?" I asked.
"Oh please-oh no-
"Are you okay?" I banged on the wall separating us.
"Get my mother-quick!" she whispered.
I stood in front of her booth then. "What's wrong?" I tried the door but it was locked. "Let me in."
Nancy started to cry. "Please get my mother."
"Okay. I'm going. I'll be right back."
I raced to our table in the dining room, hoping Nancy wouldn't faint or anything like that before I got back with her mother.
I whispered to Mrs. Wheeler, " Nancy 's sick. She's in the bathroom crying and she wants you."
Mrs. Wheeler jumped up and followed me back to the ladies' room. I could hear Nancy sobbing.
" Nancy?" Mrs. Wheeler called, trying the door.
"Oh Mom-I'm so scared! Help me-please."
"The door's locked, Nancy. I can't get in," Mrs. Wheeler said. "You've got to unlock it."
"I can't-I can't-" Nancy cried.
"I could crawl under and open it from the other side," I suggested. "Should I?" I asked Mrs. Wheeler.
She nodded.
I gathered my skirt around my legs so it wouldn't drag on the floor and crawled under the door. Nancy 's face was buried in her hands. I unlocked the door for Mrs. Wheeler, then waited outside by the sinks. I wondered if Nancy would have to go to the hospital or what. I hoped she didn't have anything catching.
In a few minutes Mrs. Wheeler opened the door a crack and handed me some change. "Margaret," she said, "would you get us a sanitary napkin please?" I must have given her a strange look because she said, "From the dispenser on the wall, dear. Nancy 's menstruating."
"Does she always act like that?"
"It's her first time," Mrs. Wheeler explained. "She's frightened." Nancy was still crying and there was a lot of whispering going on.
I couldn't believe it! Nancy, who knew everything! She'd lied to me about her period. She'd never had it before!
I put the change into the machine and pulled the lever. The sanitary napkin popped out in a cardboard box. I handed it to Mrs. Wheeler.
" Nancy, calm down," I heard her mother say. "I can't help you if you don't stop crying."
Suppose I hadn't been along that day? I'd never have found out about Nancy. I almost wished I hadn't.
Finally Nancy and her mother came out of the booth and Mrs. Wheeler suggested that Nancy wash up before coming back to the table. "I'm going to tell the others not to worry," she said. "Don't be too long, girls."
I didn't know what to say. I mean, what can you say when you've just found out your friend's a liar!
Nancy washed her hands and face. I handed her two paper towels to dry herself. "Are you okay?" I asked. I felt kind of sorry for Nancy then. I want my period too, but not enough to lie about it.
Nancy faced me. "Margaret, please don't tell."
"Oh Nancy… "
"I mean it. I'd die if the others knew. Promise you won't tell about me," she begged.
"I won't."
"I thought I had it that time. You know… I didn't just make it all up. It was a mistake."
"Okay," I said.
"You won't tell?"
"I said I wouldn't."
We walked back to the table and joined the others for dinner. Our steaks were just being served. I sat next to Moose. He smelled very nice. I wondered if he shaved because the nice smell reminded me of my father's after-shave lotion. I got to touch his hand a couple of times because he was a lefty and I'm a righty so now and then we'd bump. He said he always has that trouble at round tables. He was definitely number one in my Boy Book, even if nobody knew it but me.
I could only finish half of my steak. The Wheelers took the other half home in a doggie bag. I knew they didn't have a dog but naturally I didn't tell the waitress.
Are you there God? It's me, Margaret. Nancy Wheeler is a big fake. She makes up stories! I'll never be able to trust her again. I will wait to find out from you if I am normal or not. If you would like to give me a sign, fine. If not, I'll try to be patient. All I ask is that I don't get it in school because if I had to tell Mr. Benedict I know I would die. Thank you God.
18
On March eighth I was twelve years old. The first thing I did was sniff under my arms, the way my mother does. Nothing! I didn't smell a thing. Still, now that I was twelve, I decided I'd better use deodorant, just in case. I went into my parents' bathroom and reached for my mother's roll-on. When I got dressed I went down to the kitchen for breakfast.
"Happy Birthday, Margaret!" my mother sang, bending over to kiss me while I was drinking my orange juice.
"Thank you, Mom," I said. "I used your deodorant."
My mother laughed. "You don't have to use mine. I'll get you your own."
"You will?" I asked.
"Sure, if you want to use it regularly."
"Well, I think I'd better. I'm twelve now, you know."
"I know-I know." My mother smiled at me while she cut some banana onto my cereal.
Grandma sent me a hundred-dollar savings bond as she does every year-plus three new sweaters with
labels in them, a new bathing suit and an airline ticket to Florida! Round trip, leaving from Newark Airport at noon on April fourth. Was I excited!
In school Mr. Benedict shook my hand and wished me a lot of good luck in the coming year. He led the class in singing "Happy Birthday" to me. Nancy, Janie and Gretchen chipped in and bought me the new Mice Men record album. They gave it to me at lunch. Nancy mailed me a separate birthday card signed,
But that sneaky Miles J. Benedict! He said that since he wanted us to work with people we hadn't worked with before he had made up the committees already. Well, that's a first-year teacher for you! Didn't he know that was a bad idea? Didn't he know he was supposed to let us form our own committees? Teachers never come right out and say they've picked who you should work with. It's bad enough that they fool you a lot by pretending to let you choose a subject when they know all along what you're going to do. But this was ridiculous!