A/N: I GIVE WITH GRAMMAR! /flips table/ Thanks for pointing it out, though, D. Least I can fix it...Anyways, I love, love, LOVE ya'll and your reviews add light to my painful everyday routine. :D

CHAPTER 10: SISTERS

Curse modern contraptions! Coyolxauhqui glared at the white box of metal, attempting to pry its top open.

"Coyo, that's not gunna work." April meandered into the laundering section of Saisei and just in time.

"App-ril!" Coyo vaulted over a pile of vile socks. "Quickly!"

"Quickly what?"

"Retrieve Coyo's garments!"

"Uh, why?"

"No question. Waste time. Come!"

"Coyo." April looked over her shoulder when Coyo pushed her from behind, green eyes straining to see the tribeswoman who stood half her height when hunched. "Last I heard, the guys put a lot of things on child lock since you came. Including the washer."

"App-ril smart. Can fix."

"It's less a matter of can and more a matter of want."

"Go, go!"

The fire-haired woman stumbled over the socks then hit her hip against the white box. It made an odd sound like an empty jug, although Coyo knew for a fact something precious had been stuffed inside.

"The cycle's already started," April said. "Lid's locked and judging by the pile-up, I'd say you guys can't afford a delay. Dear Lord, is that—is that Sophia's clothes?" The woman leaned down near the sock pile, but one sniff straightened her up again. "Ugh, she smells worse than Casey."

"Forget Soap!"

"Actually, she could do with using extra. Oh, you meant something else."

"Coyo garments stuck!"

How could April not realize the situation's importance? Grunting, Coyo jumped onto the metal box. Maybe pulling from another angle would release its insides.

"Honey."

The native sent April a glare. "Why speak of food now?"

"I'm not—look. I'd give you the comfort of it not having an agitator. Yanno, if you understood what that was. Whatever's in there will be fine. Trust me; it'll come out smelling like Jasmine Fields or whatever."

"Quema!" Coyo's voice cracked. "Water destroy! Lose smell forever!"

"That's what washing machines do. You've never been this worried about it before. Unless..." April leaned forward. Her hands caught the tribeswoman's wrists, and no matter how much Coyo fought, the fire-haired woman would not let go. "It's your breechcloth, isn't it?"

Coyo kneeled atop the machine to keep balanced, eyes stinging.

"In our defense, that thing stank like a ripe corpse," April added.

"Coyo should have always wore it."

"No. You'd be freezing for one. And smell worse for two."

"Coyo no understand. What smell?"

"Nose blind."

"Tlen?"

"Nothing. What's so bad about a wash? We aren't throwing it away."

"It smell different."

"Yeah, better."

"Worse! Like all else. Not like home, like..." The stings in Coyo's eyes prickled with heat. She recoiled on the lid, its loud creaks less alarming than usual, and no matter how many times she reflected on her siblings' consent, she felt as if she betrayed them by losing track of the one memento that tied her to the K'ekchi.

"Hey, hey." April wrapped the native in a hug that pulled her off the metal box towards her chest. "That isn't the only thing from your home around here, you know?"

"Nothing so connected," Coyo croaked.

"Not with scent, no, but..." The woman began to stroke Coyo's untamed hair. "Look around. See the statues made by your artists. Splinter's shawl weaved by your elder. Tea gathered by your young ones. The culture that healed Leo is with us all. Him. You. Your cousin. Soap, for the time she guarded the Davvu. Hell, even Melody."

"She woman of Ayannite."

"Which finally explains why Don and I were never able to place her metal on the Periodic Table. We didn't think anything could scratch it, either, not until you nicked her with that spear of yours."

"Coyo trip."

"It's okay; nothing fazes that..." April sighed, holding Coyo tighter as she leaned over to let the native fall from her tiptoes to her soles. "You made a brave move, Coyo. A lot of us have told you that, but I don't think enough of us have told you that you're not an outsider here. You have no idea what you mean to us."

"It strange, hard, confusing. New York."

"City-life isn't for everyone. We don't expect it to be, either. It's the sacrifice you made for Leo, though, right?"

Coyo nodded against April's neck, breath shuddering.

"You will never not be K'ekchi," the fire-haired woman continued. "And that certainly won't start with you washing some clothes. Okay?"

"O—okay."

"Good. Now." April pulled away yet kept her hands on Coyo's shoulders with a taunt-lip smile. "This place isn't the only thing that smells around here, no offense."

"Huh?"

"Let me call the girls. This can't go on any longer."

Which accursed fool invented the 'hairbrush'? What a monstrosity! It pulled at Coyolxauhqui's curls like a brayer patch she could neither rip apart nor ignore, and the tension made her fingers curl around the toilet lid that her sisters had forced her onto.

"Mio dio, Tatuaggi, have you ever cleaned your hair?"

Coyo jerked away from Soap, only to meet April's thigh then Nia's belly when her head bounced forward.

"Wiggling isn't helping," April added.

So? The toilet lid swayed from one hinge (a result of earlier struggles) while the native whined.

"I—I bet you have lots of sores," Nia said.

"And dead bugs." Soap pulled so hard, Coyo's neck stretched sideways. "Cazzo, Capo lets you sleep with him?"

"We don't need smart comments from the girl whose socks could peel wallpaper," April told the yellow-haired woman.

"I ain't a princess, Rosso; I'm a warrior."

"A sweaty one."

Nia giggled when she kneeled by Coyo's scarred feet, chin tucked as she scrubbed them with a damp cloth. The texture tickled the skin around the tribeswoman's calluses, and she would lift her legs to avoid the washing if her hair grooming wouldn't topple her over.

"Sorry for this," Nia said.

"It's been a while, though," April continued.

"Frankly?" Soap grunted, tugging the hairbrush through another knot. "We can't handle your onion-smell anymore."

Nia stared upwards with her brown and teal eyes.

"What, Calza? Why does everyone give me that look when all I do is voice what everyone else thinks?"

"Because you lack decorum," April answered.

The yellow-haired woman snorted. "Like I said: not a princess. Besides, we have a real princess in our bathroom who has less decorum than I do."

"She grew up in a forest."

"Still a princess. Without a bathing routine."

"Coyo bathe!" Coyolxauhqui interjected. She waved an arm towards where she heard Soap, although her vision was limited to a curtain of puffy hair.

"When?" Soap asked. "Last year?"

"Coyo clean with oils."

"Yeah, your own grease."

"Sophia!" Nia and April cried in unison. A thump sounded then a gag as the resistance in Coyo's hair cut short so quickly, her ear clipped the metal button on April's split-skirt.

"Che schifo," Soap spat, "I don't want her foot rag!"

April chuckled. "Why not? Your mouth is just as dirty."

Ometeotl, help Coyo. Her temples throbbed from the pull of brushes and bright lights, her neck ached from keeping her head upright, and she had a nagging feeling the women were far from done. But maybe, in their argument's midst, she could slip away. Just slink off the toilet and—

"Where are you going?"

Slumped, the native came face-to-face with green eyes. When had April and Nia switched places?

"We still have work to do," the fire-haired woman continued. Coyo groaned yet obeyed the hands that sat her back up on her prison seat.

"She sounds like a little kid," Nia said with a giggle. She gave a sympathetic look, though, fingers gentle in separating her sister-cousin's tangles.

Soap spit into the sink behind the artist, thin brows quirked as she folded her arms. "Let's just hope she stops fiddling so much when we introduce Miss Fuzzy-Legs to a razor."

"Ray-sore?" echoed Coyo.

"Si. A blade."

Blade? Ometeotl above, what did they have planned next? What would they cut? The native gasped.

"Hey!" April grunted while praying at the fingers Coyo wrapped around her hair.

"Please," Coyo whimpered, "Coyo love. No cut, no cut!"

Soap burst into laughter, and Nia hit the yellow-haired woman along her thigh, although it did nothing to silence her.

"We won't cut your hair," April said. "Well, not the ones on your head." Then which ones did they speak about? "Let's just focus on one thing at a time, K? Soap, get more detangling spray."

"Don't call me that, Rosso."

"Just do it."

"Vabbè." Hinges squeaked as Soap opened the mirror door above the basin. She pulled out a large bottle with a bright cap, and Coyo grimaced, dreading its nose-burning mist.

"You know—"Nia's voice stopped April short of grabbing the bottle—"with Coyo here, I started to realize how many chemicals we use. It's kind'a sad."

"What do ya mean, Calza?"

"Coyo's really sensitive to it all. Cleaning products give her a headache. Febreeze makes her throat sore. Most soaps break her skin out. She has stomach issues adjusting to our food. And now we're choking her out with hair products?"

The bathroom group fell silent, three pairs of greenish eyes set on Coyo.

"We've been so excited to have Leo back," the Tlaloco continued, "I think we overlooked that Coyo has a lot more to deal with than new scenery."

"I was thinking something similar earlier," April admitted. Her gaze fell to the bottle, which she placed out of sight.

"You going hippie on us, Calza?" asked Soap.

"It is a healthier lifestyle," Nia replied.

"And more expensive."

"I'm sure we could figure out a budget. And who better to help us with alternatives than a woman who's spent her life living off the land?"

Coyo arched her back, debating what her sister-cousin's smile meant.

"How about it, Coyo?" April added. "Could you help?"

"Help?"

"Yeah, you can be our nature advisor."

"You...want Coyo to teach of plants?"

"Herbs. Spices. Salves we can use for, say, hygiene and scents. Cleaning."

"I dunno if I got the tenacity to stick that witchy hoodoo."

"It's for Coyo," Nia all but snapped at Soap. She sobered quickly, though, reaching for her sister-cousin's hands. "What do you think?"

"Plants give Coyo purpose?"

"Pardon?"

"Purpose." Coyo hunched then squeezed Nia's hands. "Coyo not only Leo's wife. Want place, purpose, role. With Hamato tribe."

"Did we make you feel like you didn't have a place?" Nia looked wounded, although Coyo smiled, leaning towards her sister-cousin.

"New York has gardens?" she asked.

April answered humorously, "Not the kind you're thinking of. But there are many organic stores around. I'm sure we can even find things imported from South America, especially for you to eat."

"Fruit? Maracuja? Chayote? Guayaba?"

The fire-haired woman laughed with every muscle in her pale face. "Only way to know is to go on another field trip. But this time, promise not to leave our sides and pay attention to the signs. Deal?"

Coyo bounced on the toilet lid and nodded.

"Good. Let's go get our coats."