What We Keep - Elizabeth Berg [31]
“Just where babies come from.”
“You do know that?”
“Yes. They come out of the mother’s belly button.”
Sharla stared at me, smiled. “Very well,” she said. “But how do the babies get in the mother’s stomach?”
“The fathers do it.”
“How?”
“I haven’t gotten that far.”
“All right. It’s time for you to know.”
I sat up straighter. I loved Sharla.
“The man has a penis, you know that, right?”
“A wiener.”
“It is called a penis.”
“A boinger,” I said, and laughed loudly.
“Well, Ginny, do you want to learn something or do you just want to fool around?”
I made my expression instantly serious. “I want to learn.”
“Fine. Then be quiet, and listen to me. The man has a penis which he puts inside the woman and sprays things out. The things are called semen. And that is seed that makes the baby grow.”
“Oh.”
“You have a hole in you for where the semens go.”
“I don’t think I have it yet,” I said. I inspected myself to the best of my ability with some regularity.
“Yes, you do; you are born with it, every girl baby is born right with it attached.”
“Oh.”
“Now. If a woman does not want semens in her, she makes the man wear a rubber. And that is what is in Jasmine’s drawer right now. A pile of them.”
“For what?” I was incredulous.
“What do you think? For when she has sex with men!” Sharla uncrossed her hands and her legs, fell out of her role.
“She doesn’t do that!”
“How do you know? You don’t know.”
“I have never seen one man at her house,” I said. I was absolutely sure of this.
“You are not with her all the time, are you? Anyway, she probably goes over to their houses. There are bachelor pads. They have round beds, and they have music that comes out of the wall.”
“But she has the rubbers here.”
“She puts one in her purse,” Sharla said.
I stopped breathing. I’d eaten gum from that purse.
“Oh yes,” Sharla said. “She has sex, all right. I’m not a bit surprised.”
“Me neither,” I said. But I was.
“I want to see it again,” I said.
“The rubber?”
“Yes.”
She sighed. “Oh, all right.” She wanted to see it again too, obviously.
We went back to Jasmine’s bedroom. Sharla pulled out one of the rubbers, held it aloft between two fingers. I stared at it. It had a definite presence. I nearly expected it to introduce itself.
“Want to hold it?” Sharla asked.
I took the rubber from her, put it in the palm of my hand, pressed down on it gingerly. The hard, rolled edge of the thing made for an unpleasant little chill that rose up along my neck. My knees felt watery.
“She has about six million of them,” Sharla said. “Look.” I looked. There was indeed a pile of them, at least ten.
I put the rubber up next to my crotch. “Look, I’m the man.” I swayed my pelvis slowly back and forth. “Hey, baby, give me a smooch. Kiss me; kiss me, baby.” I closed my eyes, made wet smacking sounds, then began gyrating wildly. I had done this before, with the vacuum hose held to my crotch—but only alone.
“Don’t make me puke,” Sharla said.
I opened my eyes, handed her the rubber. “Here.”
“You put it back. I don’t want to touch it anymore.”
“Maybe I’ll keep it,” I said.
“Ha.”
I put the rubber in my robe pocket.
“Wait till Mom finds that,” Sharla said.
“She won’t.”
“Where will you hide it that she won’t know?”
“Same place I hide things that you don’t know about,” I said smugly.
“You don’t have a place like that.”
“Do, too.” It was an old jewelry box I kept in the back of our closet. I put it there soon after I had torn up my naked-woman drawing. I positioned a toothpick strategically up against the side of the box so that I would know if anyone went near it. So far, no one had. Inside the box were pictures from magazines of kissing couples, a ring I found on the classroom floor last year and did not report finding, and a silver dollar from Uncle Roy. Also a nylon stocking I’d found in the trash and liked to put on when no one was home.
“I have a hiding place, too,” Sharla said.
“I doubt it.”
“Doubt it, then; I do.”
“So? I don’t care.” And I didn’t care, exactly, but I was a little hurt. Surprised that I had not known this.