Yams are sticky. They don't smell. They only droop slimy sticky water when you force salt into them. Father explained.
Tuesday
I go to the barn, pick up a tuber of yam as small as my 7-year old penis. I bite it. Nothing.
Thursday
I go again. Pick up a tuber of yam as small as my 13-year old penis. I do not bite it. I pick a knife and shape it like my penis.
Monday
I remember Mainebo.
Nothing.
I run to her house.
Friday
Look! Look! Take your skirt off.
No
Take your skirt up.
No
Bring it down to your toes.

Sunday
Old man lies. She bleeds. Raw red blood.
She weeps. Too.
Hysteria.

Wednesday
Sorry. He never told me. I thought it would be flying flames from between your legs. He never said blood.
Look under your skirt! Aah!
You are now a woman.

I look at the blood. Tasty. Maybe it's the salt. I stoop.
Yes. Salty.
Tastes blood and urine and spleen.
Old man does not lie.
Take off/up/down your skirt!