Last Summer with Maizon by Jacqueline Woodson Page B

city? Everybody! I’m retro.” She twirled again and pulled out a magazine she had tucked underneath her dress.
    â€œLook!” she said, opening to a page and pointing to a picture of a black woman modeling an outfit identical to her own. “This is where I saw the dress first. My grandmother made this one exactly like it, and now I’m the first girl in Brooklyn to have it! You want me to ask her to make you one?”
    â€œNah, I don’t really like it.” Margaret stared longingly at the black sleeves gathered around Maizon’s wrists.
    â€œYou just don’t like it ’cause I got it first!” Maizon declared. She went over to the refrigerator and looked into the fruit bin. “I hate pears,” she said, sucking her teeth and reaching for one.
    â€œI don’t like red and black together—especially in the summer when it’s so hot outside,” Margaret said.
    Maizon looked the pear over carefully. “This pear is all bruised up,” she said, taking a bite. “You should tell your mother to buy her pears at Ocasio’s. They have the freshest ones. Jefferson Avenue Market has good apples, but their pears aren’t so great.”
    â€œMy mother doesn’t have time to shop, between working and worrying about my father and everything. Not everyone can sit around like your grandma and make dresses!”
    Maizon took another bite and frowned. Margaret turned away from her and flipped angrily through the magazine.
    â€œWell then, ask your mother to give us money and we’ll do the shopping,” Maizon suggested.
    â€œI don’t like to ask her a lot of things because it seems like she’s always crying. That makes me cry. And Li’l Jay’s always crying!” Margaret yelled.
    Maizon sucked her teeth again. “God, sorry I asked!” She stared at her pear. “Isn’t your daddy getting any better?”
    â€œThey’ve gone to the hospital for tests. He’s going to have to stay there. He looks skinnier too.” Margaret sat down and put her elbows on the table. Didn’t Maizon understand anything?
    â€œYou gonna go visit him?”
    â€œThey said maybe I shouldn’t go anymore because I get too upset. I always start crying. I hate the way those white sheets swallow him up. It scares me.”
    â€œYou want me to go to the hospital with you?”
    Margaret nodded. “I do, but only family can visit him. If you could go, maybe I wouldn’t start crying.”
    â€œI wish the stupid hospital people didn’t know your family. Then I could make believe I was your sister or something.”
    Margaret got up again, took a pear from the refrigerator, and began cutting away the peel.
    â€œHey! That’s the best part!” Maizon said, grabbing the peel. She tossed her core into the garbage can.
    â€œI hate that part.” Margaret pushed the small green pile across the counter to her, glad Maizon wasn’t mad at her for yelling.
    â€œWhere’s Junior?” Maizon asked with her mouth full.
    â€œOne of these days my mother’s gonna hear you call him that and kick you out of the house.”
    â€œI know, but Li‘l Jay sounds dumb. No one calls your dad ‘Big jay.’”
    â€œYeah, I know.” She handed the rest of her peel to Maizon. “Li’l Jay’s asleep.”
    â€œCan you go outside?”
    â€œOnly if Ms. Dell and Hattie are there. Did you see them when you were coming upstairs?”
    â€œNo, but they’re probably just waiting until it gets a little cooler out. Anyway, it’s only eight-thirty.”
    â€œMaizon, can you show me how to do that dance where we turn and go down and—”
    â€œThat dance?!” Maizon screeched. “Where have you been, Margaret? Under a rock? That dance has been dead for ages!”
    â€œOh, you ain’t so smart, Maizon Singh!” she shouted. “You think you know