Under the Feet of Jesus, Helena María Viramontes
“Nothing in the cabinet except the thick smell of Raid and dead roaches and sprinkled salt on withered sunflower contact paper and the box of Quaker Oats oatmeal. Estrella grabbed the chubby pink cheeks Quaker man, the red and white and blue cylinder package and shook it violently and its music was empty. The twins started to cry, and for a moment Estrella’s eyes narrowed until Petra saw her headlock the Quaker man’s paperboard head like a hollow drum, and the twins sniffed their runny noses. One foot up, one foot down, her dress twirling like water loose in a drain, Estrella drummed the top of his low crown hat, slapped the round puffy man’s double chins, beat his wavy long hair the silky color of creamy hot oats and the boys slid out from under the boxspring. Estrella danced like a loca around the room around the bulging bags around Petra and in and out of the kitchenette and up and down the boxspring, her loud hammering tomtom beats the only noise in the room.”