Inner-City Girl (PDF) by Colleen Smith-Dennis

 “But Miss Turner, mi nuh understand why Martina go behind mi back an’ choose school inna big claas people area when so much school down ya so!” exclaimed Miss Fuller. Miss Turner listened intently. Her fair skin was beginning to show her age, many dark blotches had sprung up all over her...

 “But Miss Turner, mi nuh understand why Martina go behind mi back an’ choose school inna big claas people area when so much school down ya so!” exclaimed Miss Fuller. Miss Turner listened intently. Her fair skin was beginning to show her age, many dark blotches had sprung up all over her body and her face bore innumerable minute lines which crisscrossed all over her face. She always crinkled her face as if everything was a big puzzle to her and whenever she spoke it was as if the words pricked her tongue and caused her great pain so she spoke in a slow measured manner. Her eyes seemed to be disappearing into her face and even when she opened them wide, they still seemed to be a far distance away. “But Miss Fuller di gal do well! She pass fi go a big school!” spoke Miss Turner, in what for her was an excited tone. Miss Fuller turned to look at her and one could see a look which was distantly akin to a smile slowly appearing at the corner of her eyes. Unlike Miss Turner’s eyes, hers were huge, too huge and bold. She could hold a person’s stare for minutes without blinking. Those who knew her thought that “puss bruk coconut in her eye”. She was too bold and brazen about everything; her eyes, her makeup, her gold wig and her mode of dressing loudly bellowed her character.  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS At the moment she was dressed in a blue shorts which hugged her bottom like a second skin and greatly emphasized her body contours. The lower parts of the cheeks of her bottom had escaped the brief shorts and were staring boldly like her huge eyes. The blouse she wore adequately covered her breasts and no more. Her navel, like a finger in the middle of her belly, bravely pointed its way forward; it was surrounded by long white lines deeply fixed in her belly. She spoke too loudly, always as if everyone had a hearing impairment or somehow lacked understanding and had to be shouted at. She looked boldly at Miss Turner now, the smile still present at the corner of her eyes. “Yes mi proud of har but weh mi ago get all of dat money fi sen’ har go up deh so. Mi no have dem kine a money deh!” As she spoke, her voice became louder and louder and some of the neighbours who were in their yards and those passing by turned to look at them. This did not daunt her in any way. She continued, “Is only me one. Mi nuh have nobody fi help mi an’ the other two haffi go a school to. Mi caa spen’ out all a wha mi no have pon her.” She drew nearer to Miss Turner as she spoke, as if daring her to provide a solution to her problems. Miss Turner crinkled her face even more as she strove to find an answer. The words came out even slower than before as she spoke. “Fully, she have to go to school. You caa mek she stay here an’ waste har ability. She have to go a school. You have to find a way!” She was standing up now, arms akimbo and looking straight into Miss Fuller’s eyes. Miss Fuller stared back, her eyes becoming  INNER-CITY GIRL even bigger than before. “Well Miss T, me done decide say she ago go right down the road an’ not a inch farther! Big pass or no big pass she a go right down the road!” “Gal, but lissen to me.” Miss Turner’s words came out almost like an ordinary speaker. This only happened when she was angry and she was angry now. “Miss Fuller, I don’t say anyt’ing wrong wid Rockwell Comprehensive but the little gal pass fi go somewhere better, sen’ her gwaan! Give her a chance in life and don’t put nuh block in her way. She work hard an’ she have good head piece, nuh stifle her! Sit down little bit an’ let wi talk.” She sat on the top step close to her front door and pointed to the step below it, indicating that Miss Fuller should sit there. She did and the discussion continued. “Miss Fuller, try wid you daughter. Try wid her. You know that most a de young gal dem who go down a dat school no come out at all! Before dem reach fourteen is belly dem get. The—” “But Miss Turner, whether she go up the big school or down a Rockwell a same place here so she a go live; so whatever she mus’ get she will get!” Miss Fuller interjected heatedly. Miss Turner stood up and pointed straight in Miss Fuller’s face. “What you trying to do, mash up de gal life like how you mash up yours? She never ask you to mash up your life so gi her a chance. Try with her an’ seek help and God will provide the rest.” Miss Turner sat down after making this speech. She was breathing hard and her face was more crinkled than ever. It was now Miss Fuller’s time to stand and clinch her point. “You tink sey me want every nayga inna dis here place to tell  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS me say a dem mine my pickney. You want them to torment out her life and drop word fi har every time dem see har?” As she spoke her eyes widened like ripples spreading in a pond. She bent her body forward to emphasize each word, revealing even more of the cheeks of her bottom much to the pleasure of the passers-by. “I not talking ‘bout these people roun’ here. You well know dat everybody roun’ here that have pickney a go a high school ask Daddy Pinnado fi help dem and him always help dem. Even the school fee him will help you with,” said Miss Turner in a matter of fact voice. Patrick Pinnado, called Daddy Pinnado by the residents of the community, was the Member of Parliament for the area. “But is not school fee alone she need fi go up there. She need other tings like uniform, book an’ shoes.” “You know what wrong wid you? You give up before you even start. We know dat life hard especially down here but dat no sey you mus’ give up without fighting. You are a woman or what! Woman and mother born to fight life! Memba dis, woman born to struggle!” With that she got up and went inside her house.  Martina sat in the corner of the small room she shared with her fourteen year old brother Shimron and ten year old sister Yvette. She had heard bits and pieces of the conversation between Miss Turner and her mother. It came to her like a boat dipping in and out, down and up on a rough sea, her mother’s voice always the one riding the waves. At first she was sitting on the bed but when she heard her mother’s voice she went and sat in the corner. For this slight, milo complexioned eleven year old girl with the oval face and saturnine looks, the corner beside the single bed she shared with her sister had become a kind of meditative asylum. Whenever there was anything to give serious thought to or if her spirit had been trampled, she would sit in her corner and think or read. Her mother considered this habit quite morbid and often told her that for a little girl she was too gloomy. She ascribed this gloominess to the fact that she read too many books and spoke too little. Yet it was this same mother who threatened to murder her if she got mixed up or allowed any man to play with her. “Life hard enough already, an’ I don’t want any more crosses on top a my crosses. Any time you forget say you a little gal you have to fine you way out!”  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS Tina understood some of what she was saying but not all. One thing that was as plain as poverty was that boys were as dangerous as the frequent gunshots that could be heard at nights. From her corner, she surveyed the room; it was about nine feet by nine feet and its furnishings comprised of two single beds, one which she shared with her sister and the other which belonged to her brother. The only other piece of furniture uncomfortably squeezed into a corner was a three- draw chest of drawers which appeared to have more bruises and cuts than Miss Daisy’s brown mongrel, which seemed to have been bitten by every dog on the street. Above the chest of drawers was a piece of glass on the wall which acted as a mirror, and adjacent to this were some unpainted shelves made from cheap rough board. The children had to pile everything on them or put their belongings in a corner or under the bed, or somebody would be stepping on them or threatening to throw them through the window. Above all, the water stained celotex presided, although sections of it had escaped from the nails and threatened to fall at any time. The room she shared with her brother and sister was one of the two rooms which made up the small house. The other room was her mother’s. It was just the same size as the children’s but boasted a single bed, a dresser, a small table with four chairs, a colour television and a radio which were both placed on the table. Thick ply board had been used to construct a small kitchen adjoining the children’s room. In it was a small rusty refrigerator which was still working and a twenty inch gas stove, lately acquired. It added a kind of grand look to the kitchen and  INNER-CITY GIRL seemed quite out of place with the rusty refrigerator and a wooden table which was used to store food items, pots, buckets and a sink basket with plates, cups and other kitchen wares. There were also several buckets of water and a big plastic bath sitting in different corners in the kitchen. There was no pipe or running water. She was sitting in this corner now thinking about what she had heard. Her mother still did not believe that she had not chosen that exclusive upscale school. She did not believe when the teacher told her that it was her almost perfect scores which had earned her that privilege. She had gotten a perfect score in all but one subject — Social Studies. Everyone was happy for her. She had become the heroine at school and in her community. Everyone had called her wanting to congratulate and speak to her about everything and nothing in particular. All her teachers from grade one to six said they were not in the least surprised and had expected nothing less, but her mother’s behaviour puzzled her. At times she would look at her with such pride and awe which made her head feel as if it was a balloon being inflated. But the balloon lost air everytime her mother started complaining about the cost. Her mother also had another item on her list. One week after receiving the result, Martina was standing by the front door when she had the strange feeling that somebody was staring at her. She spun around to find her mother staring at her with a strange indescribable look on her face. Her mother continued to stare at her. She stared back, their eyes locked and Martina was the firstto look away.  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS Her mother spoke at last. “I hope you don’t tink you better dan everybody else jus’ because you pass to go a big school or because you fa...” She stopped immediately and walked away, leaving Martina thinking she had done something to offend her. What did she mean by her last unfinished sentence? Very often she made these unfinished sentences which made no sense to the child but caused her to think that her mother had something against her. This made her even more withdrawn. For some reason she was apprehensive about going to the new school but she certainly did not want to go to Rockwell Comprehensive. She would tell her mother not to send her if it was going to be a problem. She hated causing problems and having everyone talking about her as if she was a pest which should be eradicated. She would stay at the school down the road and do whatever she had to without causing her mother to find money she did not have. She wished she could just disappear and stop being a problem or find a corner to hide in where no one could find her. Martina opened her room door as quietly as she could and went through the kitchen door which had been secured by three large bolts. There were break-ins in the community from time to time and many people used similar big bolts to secure their doors. When she went through the door, she pushed it up and used a half concrete block to close it. She squeezed around the side of the house, almost touching the zinc fence that separated her home and the other house in the yard from the rest of houses.  INNER-CITY GIRL The other house in the yard was much bigger than theirs. It had about five small rooms occupied by three families. There were about eight children, males and females ranging from toddlers to teenagers living in it. At the back was the one bathroom shared by the occupants of both houses. It had a shower and one had to stand on a piece of board in the little concrete square when bathing. There was an old, badly chipped toilet bowl, which was operated by pulling a chain which clanged loudly as if in objection whenever it was pulled. There was no face basin and the very hygienic had to wash their hands under the shower. Everyone had to take his or her toilet items to the bathroom. If one made the mistake of leaving any of this there, it would never be seen again. Martina hated this bathroom and avoided it when she could by bathing in the kitchen and pouring out the water on the gravel by the side of the house. Someone was using the bathroom. There always seemed to be one of the sixteen people living in the two houses or their visiting friends and relatives using the bathroom. It was a very popular place in the yard. She walked along the side of the larger house and went towards the front. Her mother hated when she went to the front so she sat at the side and for a while listened to the children playing, people swearing and cursing intermittently, boys hanging out on the street corner talking, laughing and playing dominoes or gambling and calling to every girl who passed by. From where she sat, she could see most of the community of Dinsland, situated on the edge of the inner-city area. The  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS community consisted of mostly very small houses like the one Martina’s mother had rented. Some of the people had added to the houses rather haphazardly either by making additional concrete structures or using thick ply board or zinc sheets. Some people had also erected one or two bedroom plywood and zinc structures wherever there was a small piece of land available. This gave the community a very disorganized look with some houses standing directly behind others or others peeping over or hugging one another closely with barely enough space to breathe. However, some houses had a little breathing space, zinc or board fences had been constructed to effect a bit of privacy or establish boundaries. Some people had also planted trees or a few green plants which chased away the drabness or created the impression of life attempting bravely to fight its way through harshness and squalor despite the inevitable. Some of the trees were fruit trees such as ackee, mango and almond, and when in fruition, formed part of the income of the people who lived on the premises — if the landlord did not come and gather the fruits before the tenants did — but the tenants often outwitted him. There were also the community leeches that lived by begging everything they could from both young and old. Not to be left out were the thieves who stripped the trees when the occupants were away. Martina had lived at this place for almost twelve years. She knew no other home. The people, their way of life, their problems, their joys and sorrows as much as she could understand, were all part of her life. Her mother warned her 10  INNER-CITY GIRL not to get too entangled with matters that were not related to her or her family. She didn’t have to try hard not to become involved as she was reading most of the times when the other children were playing games, simply talking, arguing or fighting. The children called her “Book head” or “Reada”. She did not like the latter as it reminded her of an obeah woman she had read about. The woman was called a reada woman because she normally “read” or told her clients what was happening in their lives, especially who was trying to kill them. She could hear some of the children playing now. They were across the street in Miss Dell’s yard; Martina could hear her sister’s voice above everyone else’s. Yvette was very much her mother’s daughter when it came to physical features, loudness and general mannerisms. She had the same fair complexion, frilly nostrils, brazen eyes and loud voice. She would have dressed as scantily as her mother did but for some unaccountable reason their mother did not allow any of her two girls to dress as if fabric was limited. While most females in the community, except for the Christians and Rastafarians, shamelessly exposed most of their bodies, Martina and Yvette had to wear ‘decent clothes’. Their bellies, backs and most of their thighs were hidden; no shorts moulded: their figures, no blouse shouted out what their bellies and backs looked like. Miss Fuller offered no explanation as to why she chose to dress differently from her daughters. She sat on the stone for quite a while, sometimes listening to the noise around her, sometimes going off in a reverie about what her new life would be like if her mother found the means 11  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS to send her to Milverton High. She wished she could go even to get away from her community for a few hours and to get away from her mother’s strange, mysterious stares and partially finished sentences. The sun was getting tired and pale after its long stint and twilight had come along to relieve it for a while before handing it over to the night and the moon. The children’s voices had faded and Martina could see Yvette opening the gate. She pushed the gate harshly and it swung open making a loud, angry, grating sound. She came through and walked pass the front yard and along the side of the house towards Martina. When she was right beside her she stopped abruptly and said, “Tina gal you really weird! Why yuh sitting by yuh self a look in space?” She shook her head and petitioned heaven for an answer. Getting none, she looked at Martina in a pathetic manner, still shaking her head. “You better come in now before Mammy start her noise.” | Martina resignedly got up and went with her. Sometimes it made no sense to argue with Yvette. 12 ar “Good morning ladies and gentlemen of Milverton High School,” said the principal, Mr. Tyrone Henning, with as pleasing a smile as he could summon on his broad mud- coloured face. He was a man who height had snubbed, so his head barely rose above the podium. The notion that short people usually spoke loudly to make up for the lack of stature, ran true for Mr. Henning. His thunderous roar could be heard as far away as the school gate, which was many metres away. “I welcome you heartily to Milverton High, especially the grade sevens who are here with us for the first time. You have no doubt worked extremely hard to pass your exam and I trust you will work even harder to maintain your place, and after five years graduate with excellent passes and as a human being who can relate to the rest of the world and make a worthwhile contribution to this world.” As he spoke Martina fixed her eyes on him. She was standing at the back of one of the grade seven lines. She did not want to stand at the front and have anyone take any special notice of her. She did not particularly like her shoes. They seemed flat, broad and inexpensive compared to some she had 13  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS noticed before the bell rung. The girls all wore the same lilac uniform and the boys wore khaki pants with white short sleeve shirts. She was glad about the uniform as it made her inconspicuous; she wanted to be part of the crowd, not an individual. She felt shy and uncertain as if she had somehow been spirited into a strange land where she did not belong. This school was certainly quite different from her primary school, in fact everything seemed different, the community, the road leading to the school, the school’s environment, the condition of the building, the very atmosphere, everything. Her first sight of the community had caused her to spring instantly to her feet as if she had been bitten by an insect. She had been travelling on one of the large City Transit buses with her mother to Milverton to do her registration two weeks before the beginning of school. As the bus skilfully rounded the corner, tilted at a precarious angle and started to climb the hill, Martina was enveloped by a cool breeze which flowed down from the hill. There were huge beautiful houses sitting proudly with a lot of space all around; space for driveways and walkways, space for huge flower gardens, space for trees which grew without hugging one another; space for large swimming pools. These houses had individuality, an air of privacy and seemed to resent anything or anyone touching them. They could breathe freely, easily, without choking or gasping, unlike those in Martina’s community. She had never seen anything like this before except on television and sometimes things on television were not real, but this was. Her eyes almost tumbled out of their sockets as she stared and her mouth gaped involuntarily. 14  INNER-CITY GIRL She pressed her face on the bus window as it continued to ascend the hill. The further up it went the larger the houses became and commanded even more space. There were long lines of neatly groomed trees dressed in healthy green clothes and glimpses of extremely green lawns resting closely to the ground. Having conquered the hill, the bus jerked to a stop and everyone got off. Looking straight ahead, Martina could see a high unfriendly looking gate with an even higher wall which enclosed the whole school compound and clearly showed that intruders were not welcome. Martina walked in front of her mother and inwardly wished that she had not accompanied her. Already, her mother was receiving questioning stares from the people close by. Their eyes registered her orange wig which matched her loud orange and purple straight dress. The dress was little more than the length of a blouse and very clearly defined every curve and bulge in a provocative manner. Whenever she walked it threatened to reveal every fraction of her thigh. Her underwear escaped being an item on public display because of the orange tights she wore. High orange boots with orange and purple false nails and lipstick completed the outfit. Martina’s heart sank into her soles. She wanted to be as far away as she could from this woman, especially when she noticed that no one else was dressed in this loud manner. The other women were quietly dressed in soft shades or earth colours and subtle floral. There was an expensive look about the linen and other material they wore. Her mother was clearly out of line, she iS  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS had somehow mistaken the event or she simply just did not know how to dress. After going through the school gate, the surroundings forced its compelling beauty before her eyes and she gazed about her, overwhelmed with wonder and reverence. Here again space reigned supreme. The buildings were well set back from driveways and the closely cropped sward edged by green plants, crotons, evergreen and other tall plants and trees. There were also well-arranged flower gardens with different shapes and luring fountains in the middle of some of the lawns. Martina wished she could curl up beneath one of the trees with a book and a refreshing drink of lemonade. The buildings were large, mostly two storeys with a gothic design. One got the impression that the architects had not merely designed a building but something special and different, something worthy of this upper class community. She wandered away from her mother towards the side of the school and saw a glassy sheen barely shivering in the warm sunlight. She went towards it and discovered that it was a pool. A pool! She had never been near a pool in her entire life. She was enthralled at the idea of being so close to one and intensely hoped that she would be allowed to learn how to swim. She stood for a long while as if completely mesmerized, watching the water giggle when tickled by the wind. Soon other people came to look at the pool and she wandered back to her mother. She stood in her line and tried to listen wholeheartedly to the principal but her eyes kept moving all around as she stared 16  INNER-CITY GIRL at the children and students whom she would have to live with daily. There was a strange unease mixed with a queer feeling of excitement that she could not define and quite involuntarily, questions sprang up at her. What am I doing here? Will I be able to fit in? Will I make any friends? Will I be able to manage the work? Will my mother be able to find lunch money for me to come to school? Will the teachers like me? Unbidden and fast, the questions assaulted her; some of them were like accusing persons pointing fingers at her. Involuntarily, she shrugged and blinked, refusing to face them. The principal kept up his thunderous harangue and she tried to listen again but soon started observing the other students. True, they were all dressed in similar uniforms, but for people like her, the similarity in terms of belonging ended there. The shoes, hair accessories and watches of many of the students announced that they were from a different social background. These along with the look of intelligence and good breeding pushed her further into the background and again the question rushed to the fore of her mind. What am I doing here? She pushed it back and concentrated once again on the principal’s speech but the girl in front of her stepped backward, almost crushing her right toes. She uttered a small cry of pain and the girl turned around, looked down at her feet and murmured a stony “sorry”. After apologizing she returned to her former position but for some reason she spun around swiftly and looked down at Martina’s shoes. The look did not end there but ended up with a survey of her uniform, watch-less 17  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS left hand and stopped at her face for an uncomfortably long period. At first Martina stared back at her unflinching, and then when it seemed as if there would be no end to it, she blinked and looked away. When she looked ahead of her again, the girl had moved closer to the girl in front of her. From what she had seen of her, Martina noticed that she was very fair, almost white, with short brownish hair cut close to her head and a nose that had started out being straight and then somewhere in the middle had flared out of proportion, ending up with broad frilly nostrils. A large number of students seemed to be of the girl’s complexion. She had even noticed some who seemed to be white. The other students were a rich mix of varying shades of blackness although many would object to being called black because they were fair skinned. The principal, by now, had finished his talk and the teachers and senior students saw to it that everyone marched off in single silent files to the classrooms. 18  Martina’s classroom was large and spacious with a high white ceiling, large grey tiles and three ceiling fans. The desks were polished a soft shiny brown and the detached chairs were of the same material. There were shelves with green potted plants and rows of neatly arranged books. There were also two large cupboards which she suspected housed books and other learning materials. The walls were decorated with pictures and paintings of the school, the founders, national heroes and charts with lessons in different subject areas. In large flowery script directly over the chalkboard was the school’s motto, “Excellence first and foremost”. At the classroom door there was a large, clean garbage bin tightly fitted with a cover. Martina chose a desk at the extreme back of the class that was right beside a window. Her classroom was upstairs and from her window, she had a vivid view of well kept lawns protected by avenues of green trees, cherries, pines, among others. She could also see one or two large houses and a block of buildings on the school compound. She had no desire to sit at the front of the class and draw attention to herself. She watched silently as there was a scramble for the front seats. Even at this school students pushed and 19  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS shoved vying for the front seats as if all the knowledge coming from the teachers would somehow stop there and refuse to go any further. Some students, after installing themselves in a seat, put their bags on the seat beside them, saving seats for their friends who were still trying to worm their way through the shoving and pushing. One girl almost fell, but held on tightly to the desk in front of her as if she had been cast into a raving sea and was holding on to a piece of wreckage to save her life. Martina watched, and though inwardly amused, not even a slight smile betrayed her amusement. When the girl righted herself and sat in the seat, she turned around and stared savagely at the student she presumed to have pushed her. Martina’s heart did a quick flip when she recognized the girl who had stonily scrutinized her at worship. Why did she have to be in the same class as I was? For some unknown reason, she felt a slight cold tremor race through her body and without realizing it, she shivered slightly. At that moment, she decided that she would keep out of her way because somehow she knew that any encounter with her would be less than comfortable. The form teacher came in and everyone stood as if on one accord and chorused, “Good morning, Miss”. She wrote her name on the chalkboard and then said to the class, “My name is Miss Nolan and I will be your form teacher, your parent away from home for your stay in Grade Seven. I want you to know from now that we are a family and must treat each person as such. You must behave like brothers and_sisters and treat one another with respect.” 20  INNER-CITY GIRL She spoke earnestly, her young, round, refreshing face expectant and eager. She was a tall, olive complexioned woman with shoulder length processed black hair. Her chest was flat and she had a place for buttocks but none was obvious. She seemed pleasant enough and Martina thought to herself | like her, she seems friendly enough. Miss Nolan proceeded to read some rules for the class, after which she pasted a long sheet of paper with them on the wall. She then asked the students to stand and introduce themselves by telling their names, the school they were coming from and their career goal. The first person to stand was a white Australian girl. All eyes were riveted to her. Her name was Tarilla Hue. Beside her was Martina’s stony ‘friend’. Martina immediately dubbed her “Stone Cold”. The girl sitting next to her she learnt was Pamela Prang. Ninety odd percent of her classmates were all coming from preparatory school and they all aspired to be top class professionals. Only three students, including Martina, were from primary schools and there were questioning looks on many faces when she named her primary school. It was as if nobody had ever heard of it. She received even more quizzical stares when she said she was not certain what career path she would follow. The morning passed smoothly. They had two classes for the morning and were introduced to two more teachers, Mr. Light for Religious Education and Mrs. Pringle for Mathematics. Mr. Light’s obvious mission at the school was to light the children’s pathway with the shining light of God which shone through the words of love and encouragement he s 21  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS them. He obviously felt very deeply about teaching Religious Education because as he spoke his eyes lit up and his hands moved dramatically to emphasize his words. Mr. Pringle, the Mathematics teacher, was quite a character. He was a healthy picture of a black man; tall, with a weight lifter’s physique, a round glowing coffee coloured face with a thin nose and contrasting full lips. His voice demanded that you paid attention to what was being taught or there would be consequences. Mathematics was not necessarily Martina’s favourite subject but the teacher’s method of teaching compelled her to learn. Then it was lunchtime, the harsh metallic clanging of the bell signalled it. To everyone, this was the most pleasant sound of the day; the sound which meant a brief respite from work and an opportunity to socialize. Now it was time for eating. Martina tried to make a decision about whether to take her bag along with her or not. She looked around and noticed that everyone seemed to be leaving theirs under the desk so she did the same. Underneath the desk was a good place to hide her bag which was made of cheap synthetic material unlike all the other brand name bags in the class. She pushed the bag under the desk and then made her way alone to the canteen. In the canteen, students were talking and laughing as they waited in straight lines for their lunches. The prefects made certain that pushing and loud talking were minimal by threatening the students with detention. As she waited to be served, Martina looked around her. The canteen was definitely the art, spacious and airy with tiled floor and many 22  INNER-CITY GIRL ceiling fans. There were numerous drink machines all around which mocked the advice pasted on the front of the dining room that fruit juices were the best thing to drink any time of the day. Martina ordered a patty and a small bottle drink. She had to be careful what she spent because her mother had warned her that the three hundred dollars she had given to her should serve her for the week for both lunch and bus fare. Already, she was thinking of the days when she wouldn't be able to attend school because she would have no money. Her mother did not have a regular job except for helping out on a Friday or Saturday in a dry goods store downtown. She considered herself above domestic work as she said, “Mi nuh want all kind a people who nuh better dan me tek liberty with me an’ push mi aroun’ an’ use me fi dem gal!” Martina wondered how she managed to survive on a one- day salary when she had three children to take care of. Only one of the fathers, not Martina’s, ever visited or contributed anything to her welfare and this was very rare. She was suddenly jolted out of her thoughts by a push from the girl behind her. “Missis if you don’t move up how you expect us to get lunch?” The push landed her right in the back of a boy who spun around quickly as if to rebuke her, but for some reason when he turned around and looked at her he merely hissed his teeth then turned around again. She was relieved not to be attacked from the back and front. After receiving her lunch, she went and sat at one of the back tables trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. pour she 23  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS was joined by another girl and boy. When she looked at the boy she realized he was the same one she had been pushed into. He sat down without seeming to recognize her and started talking to the girl beside him. From the conversation Martina learnt that the names of the two were Tian and Miscah and that they were in grade nine. Their conversation was based mainly on an incident which had taken place earlier on in their class between two students. “Angelique Belnavis really think she is something special!” remarked Tian with a scornful tone. “Boy you can say that again! She thinks because somebody fool her that she is white that she is better than other people.” “Can you imagine she tell bright, bright Tenesha Bent that she could not sit down close to her because she too black!” Tian was fair complexioned and as Miscah spoke his face became almost red with disbelief. “Angelique Belnavis did so badly last year dat her mother had to beg the principal to make her repeat grade nine!” he continued. | “What, she repeat! Then why she showing off herself so! Before she try and see if she can catch something in her sieve brain!” Miscah exclaimed, speaking louder and louder. “Sieve brain indeed! The bottom of the sieve drop out an’ all that is left is a big hole. You know that we did story writing from grade eight already and this morning the new English teacher was revising the topic and ask her what is a plot. My dear, the girl tell her that it was a small piece of land for burying characters. The whole class burst out into one piece of 24  INNER-CITY GIRL uncontrollable laughter. Even Mrs. Dean had to laugh. See here, everybody was dying with laughter and when Miss told us to stop we couldn’t stop, so she told us to stand up and threaten to make us stand up for the next period if we couldn't quiet down. So all the students put their hands over their mouths and tried hard to stop. But Ginette Burns she couldn’t stop and all eye water was running down her face. Miss had to put her to stand at the back of the class and even then she was still laughing. Of course Michael Munroe, the class clown, right away nick-named her “Plot” and everybody started calling her that.” Miscah was laughing so much that she spilled some of her drink on her uniform and choked on her food. She had to run outside to the bathroom. Even though she was pretending not to listen to the conversation, Martina could not help smiling. She kept her head down and pretended to be concentrating on her food. “Are you a new student?” Tian asked. At first she pretended not to hear him and concentrated on her food as if it was the single most important thing in the world but Tian repeated the question. “Are you a new student?” This time she looked up but did not look directly at him. “Yes,” she answered. “What grade are you in?” She glanced briefly at him before she slowly answered, “Grade seven.” “So how you like dis school?” he continued his questioning. 25  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS She thought to herself, Why is this boy asking me so many questions. He is a policeman or what? He saw that she was hesitant to answer and repeated, “Do you like the place or what?” “Well, I think it is big, clean and pretty,” she answered, looking back down at her food. “I hope you enjoy it here,” he said. He looked towards one of the canteen doors where Miscah was entering then he turned to look at her and said, “I caa put mi finger on it but you look like somebody ah know from somewhere. Right now I caa figure it out but something about you remind me of someone I...” He stopped speaking because Miscah had come back and was pulling out her chair to sit down. As she sat she said, “You know dat as soon as mi go into the bathroom two girls come and was talking about the same thing! Bwoy story can really fly fi true!” Miscah remarked. The two started talking about track and field training and other school activities. In this way Martina learnt about some of the most popular students in the sporting area and that Tian himself was an athlete. The bell put an end to their conversation. Martina rushed to the bathroom before she ran to her class. She marvelled at the cleanliness of the bathroom. It would really be something if she had a bathroom like this at home. The remainder of the school day was uneventful except for a slight incident with Stone Cold. It was at the end of the school day and she was going down the stairs when she saw Stone Cold with three other girls. Already she had formed a 26  INNER-CITY GIRL gang consisting of four students. They stood by the side of the stairs and when they saw her coming they stretched their feet into the way. She nearly fell and as she staggered to stand upright one girl cried out, “My God, those shoes. Is must Belvin dump she raid! Anybody could sail to the end of world in that, good God.” Belvin dump was the city’s main dump. Martina felt her temper heating up. Her mouth started to tremble and the tears started to gather but she pushed them back. Involuntarily, a fist began to form. She did not speak but stepped over their feet, went down the stairs and through the school gate. As she walked away shouts of “Boat boot, boat boot” trailed her. af a. al | 7 Glee te le ee a5 in ie Par scsii [Tpaewry 2 erape mas ots ‘ “Patina Lexsgudies nts bectamedhl gino ede we ms Fil ce okoct et BRI." natbeer alg9 <. | pred Bo ay es Watanabe ia een ited) »hari We ae Foetal. ‘aks "fxn ig: ‘ ‘iguana ev alti + ae qeonk nine =!.. saEien thks28 ay phils skeeie ae eathenph lel ee Coie y ati ed Hib uh ay ee TRA oh te Sw ee any icinlanehnend, CWT Aue he Ws ote Fe pace BME EEG arate bale sda wih,ena AS AY PEO hae ised : y hed a — rae “a ee ks ‘az —.« a> ch 2 a, “tie Be rin ons a ie Geile. oi, ay ay oh oy ee ci 4a. vient. nh vada ob a idan 0 CoM cae — Stat pega) &e Ap eerie Soir aapegnengte anew vona  Martina got off the bus stop closest to her home. She felt strange getting off the bus coming from school because when she was going to primary school all she did was walk the three blocks to her home. As she alighted, she saw Miss Myrtle who sold sweets, biscuits and cigarettes at the bus stop. Miss Myrtle was a woman who was physically well endowed at both front and back. Her huge breasts stood erect and pointed as if they were in malice with the rest of her body. Her huge stomach and buttocks joined in the disagreement by pushing themselves as far away from the rest of the body as they could. Whenever she spoke she did so as if the words were rushing from somewhere and she could not control the flow but had to say them very quickly. “But Reada gal you stop go primary school now an’ a goa secondary school. A since when dem change the uniform to that colour and where you coming from off dat bus you one?” “Hi Miss Myrtle,” Martina replied, pausing in front of her but soon had to move as there was not enough room for Miss Myrtle’s body and hers on the sidewalk. She stood beside her and continued speaking. “I am not going to Rockwell Comprehensive, I go to Milverton High.” 29  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS “Milverton High, which part in town you fine dat school and how come you lef all the way from down here to go there, who sen’ you there?” By this time she had turned to face Martina, and her huge belly pushed against her and she had to step backwards. “That’s where I pass the scholarship for so that’s where I am going. The school is way up Milverton and I have to take two buses,” Martina answered quickly, hoping that Miss Myrtle would go back to her selling. There were two people waiting on her by now and they were listening to the conversation which made her even more uncomfortable. “Milvaton! Then nuh rich brown and white people and bright pickney go to them kind a place so how you reach there?” There was amazement and disbelief in her voice as she stared at Martina. Her breasts and her belly also moved closer to her. | “lam not rich, brown or white but I did pass the exam for there,” Martina replied, slightly walking away. “Well chile a hope you last up there cause a don’t know where you mother a go get money from to sen’ you up there, a wish you luck.” With this she turned to her customers and one of them said, “Bwoy she mus’ a really bright to get to go that school. A hope she hold up her head.” Martina continued her journey trying to shut out the voices. She thought to herself, How come everybody find it so 30  INNER-CITY GIRL strange that I am going to that school, I must be the first person from Dinsland to go to a school like that. It must be the ninth wonder of the world. And trust me I am going to make them all see that it was not a mistake. She quickened her step and turned into her lane. There were quite a few people on the road, in addition to children playing in the yards. Almost everybody turned to look at her, called to her or asked her some question or the other about the school she was attending. She tried to answer all the questions because if she did not it would be thought that she was proud and in the lane, that did not sit well with people. You would be directly encouraging harsh words and criticisms if you pretended that you were better off than anyone in the lane. There were several groups of boys idling on the road as usual. Martina hated to pass them as they always made rude remarks about her getting big and consequently being ready for sexual activities. She hated the lewd words and suggestive looks and wished the boys would suddenly evaporate before she passed by. They did not. One of them, puffing noisily on a ganja spliff, walked unsteadily out of his group and shouted to her, “You going a high school now. Go on for now cause a soon take you out a dah uniform deh!” “Lef’ the little gal alone Bull. You know that she a try. An’ you know that her mother will chop you up! Easy you self nuh!” admonished Gerald, a tall, wiry, dark young man who was grinding something in a piece of brown paper. ai  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS Martina ran pass them and did not stop running until she was at her gate. Once inside, she closed it and tried to regain her composure. She hated them so! She hated this place and those boys who did nothing all day but prey on young girls! Why couldn’t they be like Mrs. Lyttle’s two sons who had finished school and were working and were never seen tormenting anyone on the street! She called out to her mother to open the door but did not get any response; she walked over to Miss Turner to get the key because that was where her mother always left it when she was not at home. Martina wondered where her mother was. She only worked one day out of each week but many times she left the house saying she was going out. More than once Martina had peeped into her room late at night and she was not there. Where did she go? By the time she woke up in the morning she was there. She could never understand adults. “Miss Turner, Miss Turner,” she called as she walked to her front door. | “Is who that? Is you Tina?” Miss Turner enquired, peeping through her window. “Yes, Miss Turner is me,” said Martina. “Mummy leave the key here Miss?” “Yes dear she say she have a little business to do so she gone down a town little bit.” She opened the door and stood on one of the steps looking proudly at Martina with a smile on her face. “Girl, you look good. A proud of you! Oh God you really look good. How was school today?” Without waiting for an answer she continued, “Girl a beg you, work hard and hold 32  INNER-CITY GIRL up you head! Nuh look down. You will make it in this life if you look up! Forget grudgeful people and the ole tired bwoy dem and hold up your head.” “A will try hard Miss Turner, a will try hard,” replied Martina in earnest. “Miss Turner, you see Yvette since evening?” she asked. “No Tina. You don’t memba that she doing extra lesson this year so she not coming early as usual.” “Oh yes, a didn’t remember at all. And you don’t see Shim at all either?” “No. Him always take him time to reach home. A wonder what him do after school over from 12:30?” “A don’t know Miss Turner an’ Mummy tired to talk to him but him don’t listen.” “Well go in an’ lock the door tight tight an’ don’t let nobody in!” she cautioned. Martina left and did exactly as Miss Turner had said. She quickly changed her clothes and decided to bathe before anyone else came. She opened the back door, got some water from the pipe, poured it into the bath and then locked the door. As she had her bath she wished that one day she could have a proper bathroom. What would it feel like to stretch out in a bath and allow the water to cover her? Water with soft, sweet scented bubbles like those people on television or those rich children at school had; water like that in the sea. Whenever she got the chance to go to the sea, she was always reluctant to get out of the water. It was so cool and soothing, 33  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS and there was always a feeling of freedom. It never failed to exhilarate her. She was always in a good mood afterwards and often wished that she could be a mermaid or live close to the sea so that she could enjoy the water. As if she was hit by a sudden revelation, she realized that there was a swimming pool at school. At that very moment she made up her mind to learn to swim and not just learn but to do well at it. Her grade six teacher from her primary school always told the class that if you wanted something badly enough and worked hard at it, then you would be successful. She resolved that she was going to take on swimming and excel at it. This was the sport that she was going to participate in of her own accord. Just thinking about learning to swim almost made her push the unhappy episodes concerning her shoes from her mind. When she had gone with her mother to buy the shoes, her mother had told her how much money she had to spend and had warned her before she left home that if she wanted an expensive shoes then she would have to take her old bag to school or put her books into a scandal bag. She didn’t want to take the old bag which had so many holes and reminded her of the sheet that she and her sister used to cover with when it became cold. At her old school it was not a problem because many children had bags with holes, but she certainly would be conspicuous at a school like Milverton High. She would prefer to take her books in her hand rather than take that bag. She knew the bag her mother had brought for her was an imitation brand name and she didn’t really mind it at first because it 34  INNER-CITY GIRL was new but now all those wealthy children with their expensive bags made it seem as though learning and knowledge could be gained only by those who had expensive bags. She was worried that because she was not rich or brown, many of the children would not want to be her friend. She had never been a very gregarious person but a few friends would do no harm. She didn’t want to be an outcast. There must be some children who were like her who could be her friends whether she had a watch or a pair of expensive shoes or bag. She would certainly not go out of her way to make friends but she would not stop anyone being friends with her either. At her old school she had a few friends but the number had been restricted on account of her not being interested in playing games but in reading all the books she could get her hands on. Her special friends were Gina and Patrina but she had not seen them since the holidays. They were both going to one of the high schools in the area. She missed them very much; if they were around she would not feel so lonely. She could not wait to see them to tell them about her new school, they would certainly be awed, but what would she tell them when they asked about new friends? Well it was still early; she still had time to make friends. Her thoughts shifted to dinner as she was hungry but she would have to wait until her mother came and fixed the usual tin food, vegetables or chicken back. It was almost always the same with rice always present as if it was the weather. It was rice and chicken back, rice and tin mackerel, rice and corned beef, rice and callaloo, rice and this, rice and that. Ground 35  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS provision was very rare and then this was only available on a few Saturdays when her mother cooked soup with chicken foot or soup (beef) bone. It would be very fitting if the whole family added rice before their Christian names. When Yvette’s father came with a little money for her they always had a good dinner or sometimes when her mother came up with some money from somewhere. That was one thing that puzzled Martina, sometimes her mother would suddenly have extra money to spend. For example, a few months ago when she bought the new gas stove, Yvette’s father had not come at that time and even if he had, he would never give her so much money for her mother to buy a new gas stove. Her brother Shimron had exclaimed at the time, “Bwoy, new gas stove! Money a run! What a gwaan?” His mother told him to mind his own business and try and pay attention in school so that he could buy one better than that in time. Shimron had responded, “Trus’ me I will buy one better than dat an’ I will buy even more.” His mother had looked at him and shaken her head. Shimron had been a cause for worry of late. The principal of his school had called his mother earlier that year and reported that he was too often absent and late, hid away from classes and did very little work. She had begged and admonished him to desist from these negative attitudes but he claimed they were not true and that the headmistress hated him becausehe was not bright nor told him things about other students. His report had proved him a liar and so had other people who had seen him at places where he should not have been. His mother had 36  INNER-CITY GIRL tried to beat him once but the ferocious, foul look on his face had deterred her. She had stepped away from him in shock and since then had resorted to cursing, threatening and making invocations of bad luck. She had just finished bathing and putting on her clothes when she heard a knock at the door. She did not answer but went into her mother’s room and peeped through the window. It was not her mother or siblings but Yvette’s father. This was one of his rare visits. She hated when he came and her mother was not around. He was a big brown man with a flat nose and small eyes that dug deeply at you and made you feel uncomfortable. Martina definitely did not like him. She wished her mother was there or Yvette or Shimron. She wanted to pretend that no one was in but knew that her mother would never forgive her if she made him go away with the little money he always took for Yvette whenever he came to visit. She decided that she would talk to him outside, not in the house. She opened the door and made to go out to him but he pushed pass her and stepped inside while she stood in the doorway. “Where is you mother chile?” he asked, looking around as if he was seeing the contents of the room for the first time. “She is not here,” Martina answered. “So where is Yvette?” he asked, coming further into the room, his deep eyes darting all around then coming to rest on Martina. “She has extra lesson so she don’t come yet. You can go down the school to her,” Martina quickly added, hoping this would make him go. 37  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS “I will wait until she come,” he answered, drawing closer to where Martina was standing. She quickly stepped through the front door and stood on the step. She didn’t like this man or the way his eyes dug into her. She felt better outside. But instead of sitting down he came to the doorway and said, “Mi hear that you a go a big school. You turn big gal now.” Martina looked at him and said, “I am twelve years old. Two years older than your daughter.” “Yes but you look big for twelve.” He reached out as if to touch Martina but she recoiled and went down the steps and stood at the bottom. He stood where he was and looked at her, his eyes burning boldly into hers. She averted her eyes and looked around, hoping that a member of her family would come. There were many things that she did not quite understand but her mother had told her to be careful of men and not let them get too ‘bright’ or ‘touch her up’ or else she would murder her and turn her out of the house. She didn’t tell her what she was supposed to do if it was done against her will or if a family member or close family friend attempted to do it. Right now she knew that she was not going to go back into the house because she did not like the looks or behaviour of that man. But if her mother came and saw her standing outside and him inside she would think it was rude and would want to shout at her or hit her. She could never tell her that he had tried to touch her because she would accuse her of lying or plotting mischief against big people. She would also ask her what she meant by trying to touch her.  INNER-CITY GIRL She went down to the bottom step and sat sideways, wondering what to do. At that moment she heard the ringing loud voice of Yvette and her friends coming down the lane. As they got closer she could hear most of the conversation or rather what Yvette was shouting at the others. “My girl that deejay a fool. Him can’t hot up t’ings like Mikjay! Him lyrics stupid and stale my girl!” “But my girl all MikJay talk bout is girl and gun.” “But my girl is dat run the world. What else? Is better him talk bout what happening than a whole heap of foolishness.” The argument ended when they came to the gate and started walking through the gate. Yvette’s friends had accompanied her home. Their homes were just down the lane about five or so houses away and since they always came to visit her, their mothers knew where they were and would often come down the lane and shout for them to come home. “Hi Reada,” she greeted her sister, heaving her overburdened bag from her back. “How come you sitting out here? God a come or fire inside! How you come so early from you new school?” She spoke as if Martina was far down the lane or locked inside the house. “Hi Yvette, your father is inside,” she told her without answering any of her questions. “My father!” The response showed both surprise and fear. “Yes your father and he is inside waiting for you,” Martina replied coolly. Yvette placed her bag on the step and peeped inside. Her father. was still standing inside the doorway looking out at nothing in particular. He did not like the place but liked to 39  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS think that he was a good father when he could find it in his heart to visit his daughter every month or so. He had several children all over town and he really did not have the time to visit all of them regularly. His wife would object because she knew about his roving eyes and the many children he had all around the city. There were four of them about Yvette’s age, all born within a month or two apart. His construction business did much better than he pretended but he always told the mothers of his kids that he didn’t have any money, as there were many mouths to feed and bodies to wear clothes. The little ‘fowl feeding’ he gave each mother could barely suffice for two weeks for one child and hardly for a week for mothers like Yvette’s who had several children and used the money for the whole family instead of for one child. When she told him she needed more money he told her that he had fathered one child not three and was not going to assume other men’s responsibility. He added that she should go and search for the other children’s father and not try to use him because he was not born a fool neither was he born when his mother was learning her ABC. He had said some other rude things and had looked at her in such a despicable manner that she had shuddered inwardly and felt like a piece of dirty discarded rag. This was the man who had promised to help her to start a small vending business in the commercial area downtown. As soon as she told him that she was pregnant he became as scarce as a public holiday. Initially, he told her to get rid of the 40  INNER-CITY GIRL child because he had fathered too many already and could not maintain another one. She refused and reminded him of his promise to give her a start in life but he measured some metres of hard-core indecent language and told her to get lost. It was only after taking him to the family court that he had reluctantly accepted his responsibility. Yvette did not really like him because he spoke too harshly and was always threatening to beat her even though he did not live at her house or know anything much about her. She hated his sharp cutting eyes and never looked straight at him even when he commanded her to. She walked to the door and peeped in, not wanting to go in, as her mother was not home. “Good evening,” she said softly and shyly, quite unlike the Yvette that those accustomed to her knew. She was like a subdued wildcat, which was about to be locked in a cage. She always said good morning or good evening, never adding ‘daddy’ or ‘father’ because she did not regard him as such. He felt rebuffed by this as if he could read the child’s mind and knew what she was thinking. He always insisted, “Good morning, who?” but no matter what he said or how much he threatened her, Yvette, like a stubborn donkey, refused to budge. Eventually, he had given up, commenting loudly to no one in particular that some children simply did not have the right parents to bring them up and that was why young people were so ill-mannered and were giving the police so much trouble. Yvette’s mother had been extremely tickled about this, she laughed loud and long beating the sides of her feet with her hands and shaking her head from side to side as 41  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS if she was a battery operated toy. Finally she announced that “people who live inna glaas house should never fling stone at other people’s place”. Yvette’s father had looked at her in such a manner that if he was Medusa she would immediately become stone. After Yvette told him good evening he launched his usual caustic attack. “What time is it now?” Without waiting for an answer he continued, “What you doing on the road till now? A sure school over long time so what you doing on the road so long, tell me dat little gal.” Fire had ignited fire, and Yvette retorted, “A start attending extra class for GSAT and everybody know that it don’t finish until four o’clock.” “So you tek half an hour to walk from cross the road to down here! You mus’ be related to snail!” Yvette did not answer but watched him like a cat eyeing a lizard ready to dash away if he showed any signs of grabbing her. He stayed where he was, watching her like a predator, a strange look in his eyes. “A hope all the money mi spending on you don’t go to waste,” he said. “You make sure you pass whatever SAT you doing or hell to pay!” “Is what you threatening the chile for now. Every time you come you jus’ a threaten, threaten the pickney so,” said an irritated voice from the doorway. They turned hastily around to see Yvette’s mother standing arms akimbo on the top step. She flounced through the doorway, dropping a plastic bag that she was carrying on the bed. 42  INNER-CITY GIRL “So where you coming from now?” asked Yvette’s father in the same tone he had used earlier to address Yvette. “But look here! Who you asking that question? I am my own big woman! I answer to no one but myself. Mi not your chile or woman, try memba that!” She levelled a scalding look at him but he remained undaunted. “You don’t work so why you walking street for? You suppose to be home when you pickney dem reach home,” he rebuked her loudly. “So where you are day an’ night when your pickney dem go home? Where are you?” “I am a man, I can be anywhere | want to anytime I want to so know yourself!” he flashed at her triumphantly. They argued until a few people came out of their houses to peep. The argument ended when he threw down some dirty looking notes on the bed and departed, getting into his SUV and driving off speedily as if he was being chased. 43  qty se 2ve 7 a eo et Nasser anges ws dhe. ; Padilla. ee a oe ot ag Saal, eo)Sau y imcatte Jaded ie a mi:a Yoiaswil, 1 otis ¥a chin caprack yah onset | a een reer 7ee eke abet vdfo ecies gises ne b. # i. Setoeeaie % Soave i taarta a Ci aay Aa inka k sialtebleedlaneaiiha tsi Peto, ‘ioebiaeps eran See tnaarest De een Os “iipy = Percy“ties a Satay tne = i Se) aay sive.a eserig aes | ve hele Sink ab :ppp iy wi hae sgidety a, te hast. aij i ay hes a eet % ‘ : ; % a) wd pate chs heron ie Se Sse dee aan , hits “mine. aioe or ee Tae,at une  School settled down to a routine after a few weeks or so. By now Martina had met all her class teachers and had tried to analyse them. She knew the strict ones who demanded much respect and hard work, and she knew the ones who you had to work hard for but could have a little fun at the same time. There were also about two teachers who thrived on making the children form opinions and draw conclusions from reading and allowing them to express their views within reasonable bounds. These were the English Literature and Guidance teachers. Martina found that Literature was as exciting as usual. Reading was her most favourite pastime and Literature her best subject. Guidance was interesting too but she found that some of the views were different from the ones she was accustomed to in her community. The guidance teacher, Mrs. Prince, spoke about girls respecting their bodies and not having intercourse until they were married. Martina tried to count the married people she knew and ended up with a small number. Many of the people who had children were not married, her mother included, and she didn’t think that this was so important. Look at her, she didn’t even have a father, much less for him to be married to her mother; Shimron’s father was nowhere around 45  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS and Yvette’s father was already married. Moreover her mother had told her nothing of the sort and had only emphasized getting “something in the head” and earning her own money before she embarked on the maternal path. She didn’t quite understand this marriage business and she didn’t hear her friends and neighbours discussing anything much about it. When somebody in her lane got married it was normally an exciting affair with almost everyone lining the street to see the couple and comment on the bride’s dress. A large number of them usually invited themselves, especially to the reception and created a food shortage. Even though Martina was not knowledgeable about this topic she could not help thinking about many of the girls she knew who had started high school but did not finish. Many of them succumbed to pregnancy by grade nine, most of them by grade eleven. There was even a case of one girl who didn’t even begin grade seven at all. That had caused her mother to get even more aggressive with her ‘no man touching her sermons’ but she had never told her about marriage. As a matter of fact, it seemed quite acceptable when the girls waited until after school to start relationships, as not many parents quarrelled then. The only other place she had heard a similar view to the Guidance Counsellor’s was at church which she visited only a few times per year because she didn’t have the right clothes to wear. Moreover, her mother did not seem to be too particular. It was Miss Turner who always invited the girls and insisted that they go because, as she told their mother, she was raising her children in the fear of the devil and not the 46  INNER-CITY GIRL fear of God. Martina thought those values were for Christians but here was Mrs. Prince reiterating them. It started to bother her and she thought that maybe it was mainly the rich, educated and fair-skinned people who did this. She was not of that ilk and moreover she was still very young so she would try and get something into her head so that she could get a job to help herself and her family. One day when she was older she would think about it some more. Martina had, without meaning to, made two new friends. Mathematics was not her strongest subject but she had made up her mind to master it. Her Mathematics teacher was an excellent teacher who enjoyed teaching the subject. Martina soon forgot her mental block and got caught up in the subject. She found that she understood most of the principles being taught and the many ticks in her book testified to this. One day in an Algebra class after she had worked out a problem and sat waiting for the teacher to come around to mark it, she noticed that Leonie Harris, who sat to her right, had only written the problem in her book and nothing more. She stared vacantly in front of her and seemed to have given up without trying. Without thinking, Martina leaned over to her and asked, “Don’t you understand it?” She shook her head, her plaits going from side to side as if to affirm her negative answer. Without waiting for her to ask for help, Martina proceeded to show her the steps in solving the problem. She didn’t quite understand everything at first but by the time the teacher got to her she had worked out the problem. After school that day she asked Martina to assist her 47  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS with her homework and she did. While she was helping her, she noticed that another student in the class was peeping over their shoulders trying to see what was going on. Every time she turned around he averted his eyes and stared straight in front of him. This time it was Leonie who asked him if he understood the homework and offered Martina’s help without her permission. “Martina will show you how to do it.” At first he pretended to be just standing there, but he didn’t move away either so Martina concluded that he was shy or maybe he didn’t want the girls to think that as a boy he didn’t understand when they did. He finally told them where he was having the problem and Martina showed him what to do. From that day on, the three would often do their Mathematics homework after class together. They also started to wait for one another at break time and lunchtime. The boy, Terence, “Trace or Double T’ as he was called, sometimes went to associate with his other male friends but Leonie and Martina always stayed together. Sometimes they even held hands when they were walking together. Leonie’s mother was a teacher and transported her to and from school each day. Whenever Martina got to school before her she would wait by the school gate for her. After a while, Martina noticed that her mother did not take her to the school gate. One morning her curiosity nudged her to ask why this was so and she did. “Leonie, why your mother have to drop you off so far from the gate and you have to walk so far?” “You don’t want to know the answer to that one, trust me,” said Leonie shaking her head and giving a kind of snort. 48  INNER-CITY GIRL “Of course I want to know! It’s kind of strange!” exclaimed Martina. “Well you know my mother is only a teacher and the salary is not plenty so we can’t afford the brand name vehicle like the Honda or SUV and so on. Well you know that most of the children at this school have some very rich parents an’ if your parents don’t drive one of the cris car dem you don’t really count in certain circles here! Well my brother get suspension las’ year because one of the rich boys told him that if he was like him he would never make his parents drop him in that old Lada that look like something his mother steal from scrap heap or fight the chickens for. Well my brother give him one thump in his mouth and it turn out into one big fight and they were both suspended. Of course, both parents were called in and the principal said they both were wrong. You could see that the other boy’s father did agree with him because my mother said you should have seen how he look at her like an object of poverty when he saw her going into the car after the meeting. Well from that my brother told my mother not to come up to the school gate and let him off so she just don’t bother.” Martina’s mouth fell half open through the whole revelation as if something was stuck in it and was preventing her from closing it. “Well if that is the case,” she said after Leonie had finished speaking, “what happen to the children like me who have no ' car and take the bus?” “You don’t really exist. You are the ones who some people ask how you get here! Ignorant people think you are asked to fill out how rich your family is on the form for GSAT!” 49  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS This sobered Martina a great deal, she didn’t really know what to think. She didn’t really exist because she had to take the bus! Well she would have to remain a phantom, a shadow among the living because she didn’t even have a father much less for him to drive a car. Her mother was out of the question because all she probably knew about cars was that they moved on wheels and are driven on roads. She couldn’t even afford a good pair of shoes much more a car! This place was really getting more and more confusing, too confusing; marriage and cars, what next? Stone Cold had formed her gang of four and they tried to bully and dominate everyone else in the class, especially those they felt were too dark, too poor or who ignored them. Martina fell in all three groups and more than anyone else, was singled out for special individual treatment. As soon as a teacher was out of the classroom, Stone Cold would somehow manoeuvre any existing conversation to the subject of shoes and would blatantly profess that the biggest, ugliest shoes she had ever seen or imagined was to be found in their class. More than once she invited her classmates to take a look at Martina’s boat shoes. Some of them would accept the invitation and try to peer at Martina’s shoes which were tucked neatly in front of her as if trying to escape the taunting eyes of the students. She was no angel, she had sprouted no wings nor did she possess any long white robe-like garments so she became very angry. It was very hard to quell the fiery spread of indignation that consumed her and threatened to make her grab Stone Cold and pound her until she felt some of the hurt and pain 50  INNER-CITY GIRL she was experiencing. But she held on, laboriously counting to the proverbial ten as she had been counselled by her class teacher. Her mother and neighbour’s voice weaved their way through her misery and cautioned her, “If you fight and dem send you home that is your business cause I not looking anywhere else to send you” — this was her mother. “Reada, let them know that people like us have claas and can behave too. Let them know we can shine too” — this was Miss Turner. She didn’t know about the shining and the class but she was going to try and behave herself for as long as she could. She didn’t promise anybody that she would try and behave forever, but she would try. Trying did not mean that she was going to sit back and not answer them, neither did it mean crying so that they could offer her a bottle or a pacifier. She merely looked at the group of scrutinizers and remarked coldly and boldly, “My brain is not in my shoes but in my head! I prefer to walk on my soles and not on my brain!” The retort was so unexpected that the children just stared at her, unable to summon any words to hit back. Instead they moved back to their seats after observing the deadly cold look on her face. One boy, Georgionet Beacon who had been nicknamed ‘Hairnet Deacon’, stood up and applauded loud. and long. As he did so he smiled and smiled as if that day was the last day smiling would be free and would attract a tax thereafter. Shouts from the gang of four for him to take off his mother’s hairnet and sit down were ignored. His olive face 51  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS sent signals of defiance to the four and even after he had ceased to smile he continued to stand. Georgionet was teased everyday; as a matter of fact some people had forgotten his real name and only called him Hairnet Deacon. He suffered the same or even more than Martina did because of his ridiculous sounding name. Although most people teased him jokingly, the gang of four did it in a mean malicious manner, always making biting comments about him and his parents. Martina did not tease Georgionet. She had never been a teaser mainly because she hated the things that the person teased would hurl back at his or her tormentors; things about the anatomy and distasteful things about females that they had no control over. She always felt like retaliating violently when anyone tried to embarrass her in that manner, so she had decided sometime ago, not to provoke such comments. In addition, now that she had become the centre of ridicule for the gang of four, she knew how sickening and sad and how much like an outcast one felt when being teased. | She liked her school but her own classmates were trying to make her hate it. She loved going to school but whenever she thought of her unpleasant classmates she wanted to be elsewhere even though she had made her up her mind to do well and make everyone proud of her. Martina’s persecution caused her to plunge deeper into her school work and already she was getting good results. Her half term report was due and she was looking forward to seeing her mother’s face when she viewed the eighties and nineties she had received in all the 52  INNER-CITY GIRL subjects except Art & Craft. She could manage craft if she was taught but art seemed liked an unattainable talent that had somehow missed her like how birds had missed teeth. She would never be able to draw; it was just not her forte. Everything she drew seemed as if they were attempted by a six year old learning how to hold a pencil. Already she had given up and told herself that she had to make up for the lack in other areas. At the end of school that day, Martina made her way to the swimming pool. She wanted to learn how to swim well so that one day she would be a part of the school’s swimming team. It was a dream that she would keep to herself. She didn’t want to tell anyone and be ridiculed. Her class was not doing swimming that term but those who were interested in swimming could always go to the pool after school and sign up, and one of the two teachers or the seniors in charge would assist you. There were quite a number of students who were involved in this programme. To Martina’s relief the gang of four was not involved. At least she could get some peace and enjoy her activity. On the walls nearby, she could see pictures of the team swimming and information regarding the sports. She learnt that swimming was a competitive sport and was the act of propelling the body through water with arm and leg motion and without artificial aid. The techniques displayed showed the free style, which is the fastest stroke, and the backstroke, during which the swimmer lies on his back and kicks with his arms: in a dorsal manner. The breast stroke showed the 53  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS swimmer face down moving the arms simultaneously, forward and out, and the butterfly stroke showed a swimmer with her body lunging over the water as the arms moved forward quickly and together. Lastly there was the diagram of the sidestroke with the swimmer lying on the side of his body, alternately moving the arms forward and backward. At the moment she was not interested in diving but she stared with interest at the divers leaping into the water hand or feet first in a combination of somersaults and twists. Tian, the grade nine boy she had met at the beginning of the term, was a junior member of the swimming team. He had not forgotten Martina and greeted her with surprise when she went the second time. “Hi, you interested in swimming or you just come to watch?” he asked jokingly. “Well, actually I am interested. I cannot swim but I would like to learn,” she replied urgently, her face expressing her willingness to learn. “Well we are here to teach you three afternoons each week Tuesdays to Thursdays. You will learn if you pay attention and follow instructions,” he told her while putting on his cap. “I only learnt since I came here and I am doing well. I only come two times a week because I have track practice as well. What I miss I make up for on a Saturday.” His eyes were bright as he spoke dearly, showing his love for the sport. Martina could understand his exuberance even though she had reached nowhere as yet. 54  INNER-CITY GIRL After signing up, one of the instructors, Miss Hutchinson, spoke to the new comers. “I welcome you all. In order to ensure that no accidents occur there are some rules that must be observed and I stress must be observed. No student, team member or otherwise, should enter the pool without a teacher or the lifeguard being present. There has never been an accident here and I intend on maintaining such a reputation.” She went on to emphasize the need for discipline. She defined discipline as the will and determination to do something and continue doing something even when things go wrong and you want to give up. She told those who had no discipline that swimming was not the sport for them and as a matter of fact, no sport wanted indisciplined people. Already Martina had gone through the basics and was learning how to move her body through the water. At her swimming sessions she forgot about everything else, her home and her classmates’ teasing, all that mattered was that she was learning and enjoying herself. The water was like comforting hands and she was often reluctant to get out after the hour was finished and often had to be called out after everyone else had gotten out. One afternoon after leaving her swimming activity, Martina went to the bus stop as usual. There were a few students there talking, laughing, poking fun at one another, discussing school happenings and making noise generally. They were all older students so Martina stood a little apart from them. The younger students were often told not to be too a5  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS bright with the older students as they were grubs and all grubs should know their place. Knowing one’s place as a grub meant doing whatever the seniors demanded when there were no teachers around. Some of the first formers had suffered greatly as a result of this. Most of what the seniors demanded of them was quite ridiculous while some things were embarrassing and mean. Take for example Kenrath McDonald who had been given one dollar by a senior and ordered to purchase chicken, rolls and a drink, and bring back the change. When he had pointed out to the senior that was impossible as he had only given him one dollar, the senior had called two others to look at the money. They told him if he did not know one hundred and fifty dollars from one dollar he was a dolt and had no right to be at their school but should have been sent to one for the mentally challenged. They also warned him that he would be severely punished if he did not come back with the lunch and the change. He returned with the lunch bought with his lunch money, so for that day he went hungry. Living on the compound in the caretaker’s small cottage was a middle age man that was mentally retarded. His mentality did not exceed that of a six year old. Whenever the children saw him they would ask him to say his ABC’s or repeat his nursery rhyme in return for sweets. If he did as they asked and no sweets were forthcoming, he cried and vowed that he would tell his mother so that she would punish them. One of the traditions among the students was that anyone who defied a senior in any way or showed a negative attitude would be asked 56  INNER-CITY GIRL to read a letter to Virgil, the mentally challenged man. It was normally a love letter which in no uncertain terms expressed great undying love. No one, especially a boy, wanted to do this. Paul-Anthony Meade unluckily was the one chosen to read the love letter. He was accused of being a snob and in addition was said to need seasoning because he had refused several commands to fill a bottom-less cup with water and bow to the seniors and repeat the grubs’ pledge. One day during break, during the second week of school, a group of seniors had pounced on him and marched him off to the caretaker’s cottage in search of Virgil. They called him out and presented him with sweets, circled him so that he could not run away and ordered Paul-Anthony to read the letter. At first he refused, but when he was told that they would hound him forever and do worse things to him, he complied. In a wavering tearful voice he read, “Virgil my love I have been in love with you from the very first time I saw you. Your eyes are like magnet drawing my soul into yours and your lips are like a mellow mango, juicy and sweet.” The crowd which had gathered by now hooted and screamed with pleasure, knocking one another’s backs or rocking to the ground in uncontrollable mirth. One boy almost wet his pants and had to speed to the bathroom. Paul continued, “My love you are my ackee and salt fish. All the great Jamaican beauties such as Cindy Breakspeare and Lisa Hanna fade into comparison when compared to you. | will always love you. You are my first and last love...” At that moment a booming voice interrupted, “What is the meaning of this gathering? What is happening here?” 57  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS The senior who was standing closest to Paul-Anthony grabbed the letter and ran. Everybody ran! In less than a minute the crowd had dispersed and the only one left standing at the scene of the declaration was Paul-Anthony, the Principal and Virgil. Virgil was loudly protesting that he would tell his mother that a boy had interfered with him and she was going to beat him. Poor Paul-Anthony. Remembering all of this, Martina stood a respectable distance away pretending not to listen. As she stood there she was startled by the sharp, screeching brakes of a vehicle that stopped almost directly beside her. Frightened, she looked up to the angry tones of a man who wanted to know what she was doing at the bus stop when she was supposed to be waiting inside the school grounds. “| beg your pardon,” Martina said in amazement, looking at the man. When she looked up, he met her eyes then hissed his teeth angrily and said, “I thought you were Triana. You looked just like her from across the road.” With that he reversed his silver Rav 4 and drove through the school gate. Martina stood in bewilderment and wondered what on earth that was all about. 58  One afternoon at the end of the first term, Martina boarded the school bus at the school gate. She settled into a comfortable seat at the back and took out a novel. She enjoyed reading and did so whenever the slightest opportunity presented itself. Before she started reading, her eyes strayed outside and soon she got caught up in the scenery. It was a grey afternoon; the sun had been subdued by dark ominous clouds which hung low to the earth. A fierce wind was blowing and the trees and other plants were bowing and dipping in an erratic manner as if they were being beaten and could not stand still. As she watched, a branch from a tree which was not able to fight the wind any longer gave way and with a loud cry fell to the sidewalk and partly on the road. The leaves, as if they were seeking freedom, tugged themselves free of the branches and went soaring into the air only to dive again, reminding Martina of butterflies at play. She wondered what weather condition had precipitated this and wished that she could get home safely before the rain made its appearance. The Bryson High School for boys and the Ladies of the Convent School for girls were about two and three miles respectively from Milverton High once you descended the hill. 59  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS The bus had stopped several times to take up students from these two schools so the bus was almost packed to capacity and had become very noisy. The students were shouting, laughing, swapping titbits of gossip and courting. Many of them were behaving in a rowdy manner, ignoring the presence of the few adults who were travelling on the bus. The conductor appealed to them several times to tone down as they were not the only ones on the bus, but her request went unheeded as if she did not exist and was a mere shadow. There was a big girl from Ladies of the Covenant High School sitting beside Martina. She had a CXC Biology text opened in her lap but her obvious interest was a sixth form footballer from Milverton High. The boy was dark complexioned and had an intelligent look. Two other girls also had the same centre of interest and they kept edging closer and closer to the boy who seemed oblivious of his magnetism. He stared through the bus window and did not even glance at either of them once. A group of boys from Bryson High were standing behind Martina’s seat. They were speaking in angry tones about an incident which had taken place at their school the previous afternoon involving themselves and other boys from a neighbouring high school who had travelled to their school. “Trust me star my nine bills can’t go like that. Watch mi, every cent of it a come straight back to mi.” His voice swelled angrily and Martina could hear the quivering in it. “But my youth why you give him the money before him deliver the goods?” asked the other boy with scorn and surprise. 60  INNER-CITY GIRL “You see Lenford, is from last year we have this deal and him always play fair so I had no reason to think him would grab my money and run. When I get the phone me always give him to sell at his school and when him get phone me sell them at my school. After we sell them we always hand over the money and then I always give him a little tip too,” explained the boy with emphasis, obviously trying to convince the other boy that he was no simpleton. “Boy you see from I was a little boy, my brother and my friends tell me that I mustn’t trus’ nobody, nobody at all. When I bring my little weed to sell if a man not giving me the money same time ‘im corner dark cause im not getting my goods! No money, no weed.” “Well it gone bad already and you never too old to learn so trust me, this is one lesson I learn and it will never happen again!” He spoke vehemently, then seeming to realize that he was on public transportation, he lowered his voice a little but the resolve and fiery determination were still present. “As a matter a fact if I don’t catch him, boy from him school will pay, him going to sorry him cross me!” “You think is a good idea to involve the other boys?) How will that help you to get back your nine bills?” asked the other boy doubtfully. “Well star me done work out everything already. Him have a friend at Milverton and Westmore and when me start deal with dem case a problem that. I man going to demand money from them and if them no give me, hell a go stir up. As a matter 61  COLLEEN SMITH-DENNIS a fact if anyone of them set foot on this bus or let me see them, worries!” His voice was as threatening and dangerous as the thunder that kept on muttering in the background. Martina had no doubt that he meant what he said. He was obviously involved in a dishonest scheme involving stealing and selling cell phones. At her school several students who had left their cell phones in their bags or put them down carelessly had never seen them again. A few had also been taken from children’s pockets. She wondered if the thefts were somehow connected as the boy had mentioned that his offender had friends at Milverton. She had heard stories in her community and on the news about schools feuding with one another. Some had started over girls, sports and sometimes over trivial matters. Many serious actions had resulted such as students being attacked and beaten, and one boy had been killed the year before when students had brought in a supporting gang from their community and they had stabbed an innocent boy to death. She hoped this would not happen at her school or anywhere else. The primary school from which she was coming had not been involved in anything of the sort. Surely there were students who had taken knives and ice picks to school when they had disputes with others, but inter school warfare was new to her in terms of her school being involved. A sudden thought surfaced: but weren’t these schools located in so called up-scale residential areas and most of the students were supposed to be from good homes so why were they involved in dishonesty and fighting? 62  INNER-CITY GIRL From what she had often heard, inner-city children were the most vulgar and sinister beings, not to be trusted and often the ones who provided unwanted work for the police and were relentless in their efforts to bring the country to nought. Some people behaved as if children from the so called upper class areas had been decked out in purity from above and only occasionally fell. She was beginning to learn otherwise. Her thoughts were invaded by rough voices, one protesting, the other accusing. While she had been engaged in serious reflection, the bus had stopped and had picked up a group of students. As soon as the boys had come on the bus the boy who had lost his nine hundred dollars touched his friend and told him that two of the boys, one from Milverton and the other from Westmore, were friends of the boy and he was going to confront them. The other boy told him to be careful because he would be outnumbered and more over the bus was packed. He also tried to reason with him by asking him how he could be sure that the other boys knew anything about the phone and the money. Well it would seem that anger was married to illogical thought because he pushed his friend aside and went and stood beside the boys who were at the back of the bus. He stood there for a little while then he deliberately stepped on one of the boys’ shoe. The boy spun around indignantly and said, “My youth, no earth could a soft like my foot so you must know tha