words per minute
9
Angadeon
00:00
Speed
One Saturday morning, I walked into the kitchen and told Mama, "I'm not going to be friends with Berta anymore. She's mean and selfish." I still hadn't figured out what being a good comadre was all about, but I was sure I didn't want to make Berta part of my family. "But Berta's your cousin, your best friend," Mama said as she stopped sweeping and turned to look at me. "You've played together since you were babies." "She might still be my cousin, but she's not my best friend anymore." I went into the living room and started watching cartoons. There was a knock on the front door. I glanced out the window and saw Berta's hazel eyes and the red bow in her curly brown hair. I raced into the kitchen. "It's Berta. Tell her I'm not here." "You go tell her. What? I'm supposed to lie for you now?" "Oh, please. I'll sweep the rest of the kitchen for you." "I'll consider it if you tell me why all of a sudden you've stopped liking Berta." Berta knocked louder. "Sofia! Sofia! Are you home?" "Berta always takes a huge bite out of my candy bars, but when she has one she puts her fingers on the tip so I can only take the tiniest nibble out of hers." Mama shook her head. "Mi’ja ... go get two nickels from my purse and then take Berta to the store to buy two candy bars—one for you and one for her." The very next day Mama and I were walking to church for seven o'clock Sunday Mass. I turned and saw Berta on the other side of the street, about ten paces ahead of us. She was eating a chocolate bar. I glared at her, my mouth watering. Then I got mad. "Is that Berta?" Mama looked at me. "Yeah." "Eating a candy bar—right?" Silence. "Sofia, why don't you go over and ask her to give you a bite?" I started walking more slowly, letting Mama go ahead. "Sofia, I'm talking to you." "What?" "Go over and ask Berta for a bite of her chocolate." "I ... don't want ... any." "Oh, Sofia, don’t try that on me. I know you like your papa knows his bean pot. You're loca about candy—chocolate especially. Now go over and get a bite. Remember, you bought her a whole candy bar yesterday." "But she'll only let me take a nibble." "Well, if she puts her fingers at the tip again, you have my permission to go ahead and bite them." What?"I'm serious. Now go on." Mama turned me toward Berta and gave me a push. I turned to Mama. She waved me off. I slowly crossed the street and turned to Mama again. Still serious. Berta was absorbed in her chocolate bar. I felt my blood hot and rushing, my
16hands sweaty. "Hey, Berta. . ." She turned, her nostrils flared. She made her eyes into slits. "Oh,... hi." I turned to Mama. She had caught up to us but was still across the street. Still serious. "Berta ... can I ... have a bite?" Berta sighed like a big balloon letting out air. "Okay..." She took her candy bar and put her fingers on the tip. Mama nodded. I took a huge bite. Berta howled and took a bite of my shoulder. I kicked her like a mule. I didn't even bother to turn to look at Mama then. As Berta's big teeth came at me for another bite, her mother, Tía Belia, miraculously appeared and pulled her back. Mama caught me as I was about to kick Berta on her butt. We stood in our mothers' arms, panting, glaring, with sweaty red faces. Berta clutched her candy bar like a trophy. "Berta," said her mother, "now, share your chocolate with Sofia. Remember that she bought you a whole candy bar yesterday. Break it in half and give her a piece." Berta squinted. "Berta ..." With tears in her eyes, she took off the wrapper and snapped the candy bar in two. One piece was much bigger than the other. "Give your friend Sofia a piece." Berta handed me the smaller piece. "Wait. Sofia, you take the piece you want." I gulped, looked at Berta's watery eyes, and took the smaller piece.