XXXVIII

At this point, after a few years of schooling, the bloodstain doesn't surprise her: Eleven knows that it is something that happens to women and girls after a certain age. She doesn't quite understand why or what for, but at least she doesn't think she's dying.

However, she still has to decide how to deal with it. After considering it, she gets dressed and then goes find Henry to explain what happened.

When she sits down at the table, across from him, she tells him of her find.

His surprise is evident, but the man reacts calmly: "I understand. In that case, what do you think if you skip school for today? I'll go to the store to get you… what you need."

Eleven accepts his recommendation and concentrates on her breakfast.

Even though he has kept his composure in front of Eleven, on the inside, Henry is panicking.

Not that he's scared of a little blood, mind you. He's not intimidated either by the prospect of having to explain what's behind that bleeding… No, what's unnerving is that this is the first of numerous changes that Eleven's body has to go through.

Not unlike her mind.

He is aware that he must pay particular attention from now on: according to his readings, this stage is extremely complicated. Especially for girls.

One step at a time, he tells himself as he opens the door to Melvald's General Store.

"Oh, good morning," Mrs. Byers greets him with a smile. "Looking for something in particular?"

Henry thinks about it for a moment, but he ends up deciding that this woman's help—a grown woman, that is—could come in handy.

"You'll see… As you know, my cousin Jane is twelve years old," he explains. "And today… she got her first period."

The woman looks at him with wide eyes. "Oh, gosh."

"Yes," Henry nods. "And… I need to buy…"

"Of course," the shopkeeper leaves her place behind the cash register and heads towards the back of the store; he follows her wordlessly. "Here I have several types of pads…"

Henry feels dizzy just looking at the number of products being presented to him. Why is there so much variety? Mrs. Byers seems to sense his confusion, for she takes one of the packages and holds it out to him: "Look: this is a standard version (not very thin and not very long), it fastens quite well. Why doesn't she try this one? Then, if she doesn't find it comfortable, she could maybe consider one that is more or less absorbent, adjustable, well, whatever she would like."

This explanation, rather than clarifying things for him, has only confused him more. And he must be showing it on his face, because the woman's smile fades. "You don't understand a word of what I'm saying, do you?"

Henry suppresses a sigh. "Unfortunately, I'm quite out of my depth here."

Mrs. Byers purses her lips and holds the packet of sanitary napkins in both hands. Her fingers dig slightly into the plastic. "If it's not… too much of an intrusion… would you like me to talk to your cousin?"

Her suggestion is unexpected: he didn't think Mrs. Byers would offer help beyond her job duties.

"About nothing strange," she clarifies, misinterpreting his hesitation. "Just… about the pads. And how to take care of her hygiene on those days."

"No, no, of course," Henry nods, relieved. "Don't worry about… the rest. I'll take care of the… delicate part. But it would be a great help if a woman explained to her about… the functioning of her body, in that sense. I would really appreciate it," he concludes, and he belatedly realizes that he means every word.

"Oh, it's nothing." Mrs. Byers shakes her head and offers a grimace-like half-smile. "Is it okay if I go to your house this afternoon, after my work hours? I would offer to bring her here, but I don't think she will want to leave your house like that…"

"Yes, that would be great," Henry assures her, agreeing one hundred percent with her reasoning.

"It's settled then. Come on: I'll give you a piece of paper and a pen to write down your address. In the meantime, take the one I suggested at the beginning."

Henry tells Eleven the truth: he explains that he has asked Mrs. Byers to visit them so she can talk to her and teach her about the proper use of sanitary napkins and other pertinent issues.

"It's better for a woman to explain it to you," he justifies himself. "I cannot speak to you from my experience; she can. Meanwhile, put one of these in your underwear."

And he hands her the packet.

Eleven accepts it with a nod and doesn't hesitate to obey him. While she isn't particularly open to the idea of talking about such a touchy subject with someone she barely knows, if Henry thinks it's for the best, she'll try her best to listen to what the woman has to say.

Mrs. Byers arrives shortly after dinner. Henry greets her at the entrance of the house.

"Welcome." He offers her a sociable smile. "Thank you very much for coming. Jane is in her room, I'll walk you there."

The shopkeeper nods sheepishly and walks by.

Henry is aware that, working in a general store and being a single mother of two, Mrs. Byers does not have much of an income. However, he extracts from her thoughts her sincere admiration for the beauty of his home without noticing an iota of greed or envy.

It's strange, but between this and the fact that she's agreed to come to Eleven's aid, Henry realizes that he doesn't actually dislike the woman as he does everyone else. It doesn't match the… affection Eleven inspires in him, of course, but it's obviously an improvement on his general contempt towards others.

When they reach her room, Henry raps on the door with his knuckles.

"Jane," he calls. "Mrs. Byers has arrived."

Eleven opens the door and smiles shyly at her. "Hello…"

"Hello, Jane," the lady greets her with a friendly smile. "Can I come in? Your cousin told me about what happened today… And I wanted to talk to you a little bit about it, if that's okay with you?"

Eleven nods and lets her in.

"If you need me, I'll be in my office," Henry says before leaving them alone.

"Can I put this on the chair?" Mrs. Byers asks her before saying anything else, showing her the bag that she carries with her. Eleven nods. "Okay, I brought you some things," the woman explains as she rummages through the bag. "Several options of pads… so that we can decide together which one suits you best, what do you think?" She nods again. "Mr. Creel… Henry must have brought you some… did you get to use them?"

Eleven's cheeks turn red. Mrs. Byers gets it instantly. "Did you have any problems?"

"They… move easily and…" she leaves the sentence hanging.

"And the fabric of your underwear got stained, is that right?" Eleven recoils, but Mrs. Byers shakes her head. "Don't be ashamed, honey: it's normal. Sometimes it happens even to those of us who have been dealing with this for years."

That makes her feel marginally better.

"It does…?"

"Yes, of course, and if an accident happens to you… you must remember that it is something that happens to all (or, well, almost all) women."

"Ah," Eleven mutters, her fists clenching into the hem of her T-shirt. "Okay…"

"Now, how about we try this one?" Mrs. Byers shows her a new package. "It has wings, which are to better fit under the underwear, and so…"

Eleven listens carefully to everything she explains: about the benefits of using pads and about other options—such as tampons—that are also available.

"But maybe those are too invasive for you right now, so let's start with the pads, okay? If you ever want to try one, you can go to the store and let me know. You don't even need to tell Henry," she reassures her before promising: "I'll answer any questions you may have.

"Now, let me give you some tips on the hygiene of this area…"

Eleven smiles: Mrs. Byers is actually very nice.

As Mrs. Byers prepares to leave—unused items in hand, ready to be returned to the store—Henry thanks her one last time: "Thank you so much for your help, Mrs. Byers. What you did for Jane today means the world to us."

The woman shakes her head.

"Please call me 'Joyce,'" she asks them both; Eleven beams at this. "And it's nothing: if you need anything else, you know where to find me." She says the last part winking her right eye at Eleven, who giggles.

Henry notices it, of course, but he decides to let it go; considering how helpful the shopkeeper has been to them today, he doesn't think it's necessary for him to be poking around in her mind all the time. "Of course. See you later, Joyce," he bids her farewell.

"Bye, Joyce!" Eleven says with a wave of her hand.

Joyce smiles at both of them—especially at Eleven—and with one last 'bye-bye!,' she leaves.