PROLOGUE EVERYTHING''S BIGGER . in Texas from the stars in the sky that scatter like glitter across a big black canvas with no beginning or end to the fields of bluebonnets that whip and wind down Interstate 10 from the sprawling gas stations like Buc-ee''s to the mega grocery stores like H-E-B filled to the brim with aisles and aisles of beef jerky, BBQ brisket, breakfast tacos, tortillas, tamales, sombreros, and sarapes to the flying cockroaches that refuse to get caught between the sole of a chancla and a hardwood floorboard from the kindness of strangers who will "bless your heart" and "thank you ma''am" for any ol'' thing to the pickup trucks that grumble and chug and haul barrels of hay, horses, and even houses from the overcrowded gun conventions that dare you to "Come and Take It" to the Confederate flags that hang and wave at you from your neighbor''s driveway. Everything''s bigger in Texas, except the straight white Texan''s ability to imagine a world where they are not the center of the universe which is why, I think, they keep making laws and they keep changing the rules to keep the rest of us "in our place" to keep the rest of us small. SIT AND SIMMER My name is Yulieta Lopez and this is the story of my anger, and how it became a house fire I tried to smother silent but it spun into an asteroid that slammed around inside me and begged to be let out. I didn''t want to play the part of the angry Black girl so I tried to keep the fire contained in my belly but it slithered out and snaked itself around my throat-- a rope of smoke that caused friction in the folds of my body and the longer I let it sit and simmer the harder it became to just breathe. ACT I: Our Town Time: Late August Place: A Texas Suburb but bein'' alive & bein'' a woman & bein'' colored is a metaphysical dilemma/i haven''t conquered yet -- Ntozake Shange, for colored girls . BREAKFAST AND BUTTERFLIES Friday morning before the sun kisses the Texas summer sky my stomach is a storm of nerves and nausea. Today is a big day at school and though I should be rushing to get ready I can''t seem to will my spine to sit up and get this day started.

Downstairs, oil sizzles in a sartén, hot like the August air outside my window. The salty smell of Dominican salami slides into my room and my butterfly-filled belly flips and flops. Mami yells up the stairs: "Yullliii." Her voice is a cast iron pan scraping a burner. "Come down now! Your brother is leaving in thirty minutes!! Come set the table! Ya el desayuno está listo." Breakfast may be ready but I''m not. I need just a few more minutes before I''m forced to become who everyone else expects me to be. THE PARTS I PLAY The diligent daughter who washes and scrubs toilets and tubs.

Who dusts and vacuums fans and floors. The honorable hija who always comes when called. Who sets the table and serves everyone else before serving herself. The good girl who follows all the rules and knows how to smile and stay positive to keep Mami stress-free for the sake of her health. MAMI''S HEALTH When Mami was seventeen and lived in the Dominican Republic, she was diagnosed with lupus. It''s an illness that has attacked her joints, muscles, skin, and internal organs. Mami describes it like a fire inside her whole body causing everything to be inflamed. Sometimes Mami''s hands are so swollen she can barely dress herself.

Sometimes I have to hug her gently because her whole body aches. Sometimes, if it''s really bad, she has to go to the hospital for a couple of days to get fluids through an IV until she''s strong enough to come home. Most days, Mami is able to manage her symptoms. But lupus is a dormant volcano inside her body. Her aches and pains can get better or worse depending on what she eats, how she sleeps, and how much she works. But the worst thing for Mami''s health is stress. So I do my best to be the easy river she needs me to be so the fire inside her stays quiet and calm and she stays healthy and out of the hospital. WORDS THAT HEAL Today though, I just need a few more minutes to myself.

So I reach for the worn-out copy of my favorite play on my nightstand. for colored girls who have considered suicide/ when the rainbow is enuf, by Ntozake Shange. I open to the first scene. I read and reread and repeat some of my favorite lines as if they were a prayer and Shange''s words wash over me like holy water that heals.