Diary of Latoya Hunter (6 page)

Dear Janice
,

T
omorrow will be my last day in school before the vacation starts. I go back on the 2nd of January, 1991!! I like the way that sounds.

Anyways I wonder how I’ll spend the vacation. Probably in my house but that’s OK. Shane will be there. I’m kind of disappointed I won’t get to meet them at the airport. They have a 9:30 flight. I’ll be in school then but when I get home he’ll be there. I hope he remembers me. We lived together for at least 3 years. Surprised? That was in Jamaica. When I left there, he was at least 3 or 4.

Dear Janice
,

S
hane is here! He is so big. I was expecting him to grow a little but not that much as he did. I came home from school and saw him in the living room watching a movie and eating cheese curls. When he saw me he hid his face (I don’t know why). I didn’t hug him because I didn’t know if he remembered me or not. I asked him if he remembered me and he said yes. I could tell he was lying through his teeth. I showed him old pictures of the two of us in Jamaica. I think
that helped his memory a little bit. I think I’ll like the vacation but one thing though—they’ve taken over my room. My bed for the next 10 days will be the couch. Lucky me! Whenever there’s company, I’m the one who gets dumped in the living room. I hate it so much. It’s just another reminder of how powerless I am at this age.

D
evoy is smiling regularly now. I feed him now and sometimes they leave me alone with him. So as you can see, Rondah has really loosened up. I guess it was just a phase.

I found out something new about Shane today. The boy is obsessed with money. He walks around begging for money. I hope it’s a habit he’ll get over soon. I’m going to take him shopping on Saturday hope he’s not as hard to shop with as I am.

Everybody wants money these days. Actually, a better word is “needs.” Out of all my friends I’m always the one with money all the time. When we’re coming home from school I can always stop and buy junk food if I want. I always give them money to buy something. It’s not that I’m rich (definitely not) it’s just that my parents give me any spare money they have and it adds up! When things are going
really bad financially, it shows on them. I hate to say this but it changes somewhat how nice they act. I hate that money could control things like that, but it does. My grandparents will be arriving late Saturday night.

I
t’s 10:00 pm and my grandparents still haven’t arrived. Their train was delayed. I’ll fill you in on their arrival tomorrow. I did last minute shopping today. I finished for everyone on my list. As I told you, I took Shane. I didn’t think it was possible but I’ve found someone harder to shop with than me. Shane runs through the stores picking every toy he could find. He must have thought I had a million dollars on me. I finally satisfied him with a toy bow and arrow set and an outfit. I don’t got a lot of money to shop with so when everyone opens their presents I hope their not overwhelmed with disappointment. The worst of all was what I got Daddy—a pack of white socks. Anyway, for my mother I got a set of purses, for Rondah, a baby album with a family tree on it. As for my brothers I got t-shirts—Courtney’s has the Mets on it (he loves the Mets). For their girlfriends I got perfume.

Dear Janice
,

M
y grandparents finally came at 12:00 last night. My grandmother brought cake from Canada that she made herself. She’s good in the kitchen. After our reunion we all went over to my Aunt Rita to drop them off. That’s where they’ll spend the vacation. They’ll of course come over every day. Well, tomorrow is Christmas.

Dear Janice
,

M
erry Christmas! It’s been one for me. I opened my presents 12:00 last night. I got mostly clothes. That’s what I love! They weren’t dressy clothes, just clothes I could wear to school. I’m glad because I want to look different in ’91. I hate wearing the same set of clothes for too long.

The dinner at the house was a big success. It seemed like the whole family was under our roof. We ate like crazy. We had (I had) curried goat, Ox tail, lasagna … It was great. Even though Christmas here in New York can be good, none could top a Jamaican Christmas. It’s the best time of the year, back home. On Christmas Eve, parents give their kids money and they go to what we call Christmas Market.
We bought junk food until we were sick and any foolish toys we wanted. I remember how we’d come home and sit outside until it was way too late and just have a good time. Back home, Christmas meant a certain extent of freedom and no limit on the fun. In America it just seems to be restrained to opening some presents and eating alot. You can’t go outside and be free and comfortable because it’s so cold. A Jamaican night is like a cool bath—it makes you feel renewed and alive. I miss Jamaica on Christmas. I really do.

Dear Janice
,

T
oday was mostly spent cleaning up the house. It was pretty boring. The excitement of the holidays is slowly disappearing. When my grandparents and Shane and Donna leave, I think that’s when it’ll be officially gone. For my grandparents that’ll be tomorrow and for Donna and Shane, early Sunday morning after the party (the only things left to look forward to). Anyways, I’ll talk to you in the morrows (as my brothers would say).

Dear Janice
,

I
went to the movies today with my friends Deborah, Denise, and Isabelle. We saw LOOK WHO’S TALKING II at Dave’s girlfriend’s theater that she manages in Manhattan. I had a good time but when I got home, I got in trouble for not bringing along Shane. Do you think that was inconsiderate? Maybe it was but I thought Donna (his mother) wouldn’t want me taking her son on a NYC subway system alone. I guess sometimes I think too much.

Dear Janice
,

T
he party was good! It was better than good, I have no word to describe it. I danced all night. I was so relaxed and loose. I really had fun. My brother was surprised I think. Then again maybe he knew all along. You never know. This guy who drank a lot too much kept following me around all night. He kept asking me to dance. He didn’t stop until he fell asleep in the kitchen. I’m supposed to know him from Jamaica. His brother and my brother were good friends. He said he always used to come visit up where I lived with his brother. I really don’t remember. He does. Anyways, he and
his three brothers claim to know me. As I said, I don’t remember. I think his other brother Derek likes me. He kept looking at me all night. At first I thought, “This guy is so obvious about being interested in me.” He could have kept it in more. It makes me feel like I was under a microscope. There was a little eye contact but he never did say anything to me but the looks he gave me said a thousand words. Oh well, the party was like I said, wonderful.

Donna and Shane left. For me that was a tearful goodbye because I might not see them again for years. At least I’ve got my room back.

I’ll miss them a lot.

Dear Janice
,

T
oday’s the last time I’ll write 1990 above my entries to you. My resolution this year is not to make any resolutions. I always end up breaking them.

I’ve got some news for you. Derek, who I told you I thought liked me from the party, called me. Don’t even think it. I did not give him my number. I asked him who did and he said it was his brother who is friends with my brother. Anyways, we talked about a lot. We talked about Jamaica mostly and he still insists they know me.

My mother will have a fit if she knows there’s a boy
calling me. I know she will soon, but I do not know how pissed off she’ll be. I do not want to find out.

P.S. Talk to you in 1991.

Dear Janice
,

I
t’s a few hours away from 1991. I have nothing to look forward to for the night except babysitting Devoy and watching the countdown on t.v. My mom is going to a party, so is Rondah. Daddy is working. Poor thing, he’s worse off than I am. It’s really a shame. Actually it’s pitiful. But that’s my life! Hopefully next year will be much better. I’ll be starting out the first hours of it on a boring, depressing note, but that leaves 365 days to make it better. I hate making resolutions because I always break them. Anyway, this year I’ll make a resolution not to make any resolutions. Last year I promised myself I would stop eating so much junk food and that I would be neater and more organized. Being that the store is right at the corner from me and I pass it everyday coming from school, the junk food thing didn’t last too long. As far as being neat and organized, I just don’t think I was made to be neat. I try but it’s too much of a strain.

Dear Janice
,

A
t school it feels so strange to write 1991. I make A mistakes and write 1990. That happens every year to me. It takes me a while to get adjusted. I’m trying in school to listen more to the teachers. I think my listening skills are a little weak. It’s not really a resolution, it’s something I have to do. I realize that I blank out too much. Like I start to listen, and I drift off. What’s happening to me? I’ve thought about it and it’s happening so often now. I think about so much. I mostly fantasize. I think back to things that happened before and how I could have acted better in the situation. Like if I had a fight with my mom, I think of what more I could have said to her to get everything off my chest. I often hold things back. Anyway, it’s things like that that make me drift. The last thing I need now, is a drop in grades. Now that a guy calls my house regularly, I could just hear my mom, “Now your mind is full up with boys and you can’t do your lessons.” I don’t think that has nothing to do with nothing. Maybe it’s a phase.

Dear Janice
,

G
irls in school are so stuck up! They plaster their faces with makeup everyday and finish cans of hairspray every other day. They are so materialistic! Do you know what’s in this year? Mirrors. They all carry little mirrors and they stare at themselves almost every minute of the day. It’s all for the boys. They put so much into getting guys to like them that is almost scary. Suppose I was like them? What would my mother do? To think of it, she’s lucky I’m the way I am, she is more than lucky.

One of the materialistic snob’s name is Babette. I hate her! She makes me so sick. She thinks she’s better than everybody else. I feel like ringing her neck. She’s really beginning to bug me now. In the beginning of the school I wasn’t sure how I felt about her, but now I know I can’t stand her. The whole problem is her attitude, I think she’s some kind of higher force than anything. If it’s one thing I hate, it’s conceited people. I wish they would transfer her to another class because I don’t want to have hostile thoughts when I’m trying to learn.

P.S. I called Derek today.

Dear Janice
,

D
erek called after school today, he’s nice to talk to. I like him. We talk naturally to each other like we’ve known each other for years and years. Anyways, my mom doesn’t know he calls yet. I don’t want her to answer the phone one day when he’s calling. Who knows what she’ll say. I don’t want to find out. Rondah is already giving me a hard time about it. I know I’m in for a lot of arguments and maybe I’m just being stupid, but I’m not going to tell him to stop calling. I could be really stubborn sometimes and now is one of those times. I like him, is it a sin? I wish I had a family like my friend Teniesha has. She can even invite boys over to the house and she’s younger than me. Her mother is so chill. They wear the same clothes, they go out a lot together, and they talk about anything together. I think Jamaican mothers are more strict about things like boys. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s a universal thing. I don’t know. Teniesha is so lucky! She’s always so happy, she never seems to have any problems with her family. I really envy her.

Dear Janice
,

T
oday gunshots echo in my head. They are the same gunshots that killed an innocent human being right across from my house last night. They are the same gunshots that have scarred me, I think, forever.

Late last night, I was in bed when I heard a man screaming for a police officer. I told myself, I didn’t hear that. Later I told myself I didn’t hear the four gunshots that followed his cry for help. I lay there in bed and it was like I was frozen. I didn’t want to move an inch. I then heard hysterical crying. I ran to the window when I couldn’t keep myself back any longer. What I saw outside were cops arriving. I ran into my parent’s room and woke them up. By that time, tears were pouring unstoppably from my eyes. I couldn’t stop shaking. My parents looked through the window and got dressed. They rushed outside and I followed them. It turned out that I knew the person who got shot. He worked at the store at the corner. He was always so nice to me, he was always smiling. He didn’t know much English but we still managed a friendship.

I can’t believe this happened. Things like this happen everyday in N.Y., but not in my neighborhood, not to people I know.

Dear Janice
,

T
oday the store was closed. It was closed yesterday also. The blood stains are still across the street. In school I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened, yesterday was the same thing. I don’t think I’ll get over this for a long while.

The whole neighborhood is talking about it, some say one thing and others say something else. They say the murderers were waiting for him in his van. He and his partner were going into the van when the murderers came out. That’s all that has been said about it. I don’t think drugs had anything to do with it—the guy was just too sweet. When I listen to them yapping away about it, I don’t mention that I heard a thing when it happened. They’re only interested in the facts of the matter. I’m interested in the heart of it. It really makes me think why did it happen to such a sweet, innocent guy? He didn’t deserve it.