Cornelia goes shopping downtown Montego Bay with Aunt Josie
Chapter 2
Sidewalk Shopping
The group of six teenagers who were emerging into their 16th and 17th years, hair still damp, were laughing and chatting as they walked home from an early morning swim in the sea.
“If I never buck my toe on that big stone I would-a win Mikey,” declared a thickset, tall youth carrying a towel over his shoulders.
The voice of a short skinny youth whose legs were punctuated by huge kneecaps protested.
“Win which me? You always have some excuse why you can’t beat me in swimming. Last time it was because the sun get in you eye.”
“Where we eating breakfast this morning?” A third voice asked.
“When I was leaving this morning my Modda say that she was going to make stamp an’-go.”
This was proudly said by a girl with who beamed with pride as five other voices agreed that they were going to be at her house as soon as they could go home and tidy themselves.
Enveloped in their own mirth, oblivious to the bustle of the market district, the group passed Cornelia who was standing almost in their path beside a large market basket of provisions and holding a sleeping Isaiah in her arms. It was barely seven o’clock, but Aunt had insisted that they go to market early to select from the freshest goods. If one were to go by the number of people who were in the streets, it seemed as if the entire city had the same idea.
Cornelia was no stranger to Saturday market. Her mother shopped at the supermarket and also at the market near to their home. Here in Montego Bay, Cornelia saw that people still walked with straw baskets and shopped for their fresh produce. She watched them in amazement reflecting that she would never be caught dead with a straw basket in Kingston. How would that look to her friends? You could carry a large foreign-made grocery bag and place individually wrapped purchases in transparent or black polythene bags. Here, everybody wrapped their goods in newspaper and packed them in jippi jappa or wicker. As her aunt shopped, she would intermittently return to where Cornelia was standing and place more and more items in the basket. The whole experience was taking longer than necessary as she paused to catch up on news with the people that she bought from, or from friends encountered in-between the stalls.
It was a relief for Cornelia to look side-eyed at a sleek black and silver sedan that slowly pulled into the street and made its way through the crowd. Automatically, Cornelia noticed its gleaming body, its fat tyres slung around chrome rims, and most of all, the cute driver behind the steering wheel. He was older than her by just a few years and must have felt her eyes on him as he looked away from the traffic to scan the scores of people walking up and down the pavement before catching and holding her gaze. For a long moment he gave Cornelia an appreciative look before returning his eyes to the road.
“Wow,” she thought, “I’d like to meet him!”
She watched as the car turned around and return to park near to where she stood. A woman in a colourful tiehead alighted, basket in hand, and went directly into the heart of the market. After a few seconds, the driver’s door opened and the youth got out, leaned on the bonnet of the car and looked unreservedly at Cornelia. At first she felt awkward about being watched and used Isaiah to shield her face; then she decided that behaviour was foolish and returned his gaze openly and with interest.
Cornelia had never before made and held eye contact with a stranger. Something in the back of her head told her that this was barefaced immodest behaviour, unbecoming of a young woman consecrated to the Lord’s service. Her stomach and chest however were brimming over with excitement until she could hardly breathe. When the youth actually smiled and licked his lips then walked over to her, the feelings of anticipation that they would actually meet overwhelmed all her senses until she hardly knew whether she were standing or seated. She forgot the weight of the child that she was holding and the sounds and smells of the busy market faded away. All that remained was this strange sensation coursing through her body, enervating her nerve endings and causing her heart to pound mercilessly in her chest. And it was being renewed with every step of the slow, sexy walk of this good-looking guy dressed in stonewashed jeans, a muscle t-shirt and designer sneakers.
He stopped not too far from her to speak.
“Getting everything that you want?”
Cornelia nodded.
“So, your baby?”
She shook her head then realized that she needed to speak, and did so.
“He is my cousin.”
“Who are you here with?”
“My aunt, his mother. We are waiting on her.”
The thought of her aunt caused Cornelia to be jolted back to reality, If she was seen talking to this guy, who she just noticed wore jewellery, only God knew what her penance would have to be. She spoke quickly.
“Listen, my Aunt is really strict so I can’t talk to you a lot right now, you understand?” “Yeah, I get it. Check me at the Barnett Customs Brokers, ask for Jimmy.”
Cornelia saw Aunt Josie emerge from the market building, but she was speaking to another woman and not looking in their direction. Cornelia hissed at him. “Where is it?”
“Barnett Street of course. You’re not from here?”
“No, I’m on summer holidays from Kingston.”
He raised his eyebrows and smiled.
“OK then, we’ll have to make sure that you have a good time while you are here.”
“Yeah, listen, go now. Aunt Josie is coming.”
“What’s your name pretty girl?”
“Lia.”
“OK Lia, see you soon.”
He winked and strolled away.
Aunt had done a week’s shopping so a pushcart man loaded their goods on his vehicle. Cornelia recognized it to be the same cart that had carried her bags few days before. ‘Seek after God’ it read and she thought that it came from a verse in a Psalm.
Sidewalk Shopping
The group of six teenagers who were emerging into their 16th and 17th years, hair still damp, were laughing and chatting as they walked home from an early morning swim in the sea.
“If I never buck my toe on that big stone I would-a win Mikey,” declared a thickset, tall youth carrying a towel over his shoulders.
The voice of a short skinny youth whose legs were punctuated by huge kneecaps protested.
“Win which me? You always have some excuse why you can’t beat me in swimming. Last time it was because the sun get in you eye.”
“Where we eating breakfast this morning?” A third voice asked.
“When I was leaving this morning my Modda say that she was going to make stamp an’-go.”
This was proudly said by a girl with who beamed with pride as five other voices agreed that they were going to be at her house as soon as they could go home and tidy themselves.
Enveloped in their own mirth, oblivious to the bustle of the market district, the group passed Cornelia who was standing almost in their path beside a large market basket of provisions and holding a sleeping Isaiah in her arms. It was barely seven o’clock, but Aunt had insisted that they go to market early to select from the freshest goods. If one were to go by the number of people who were in the streets, it seemed as if the entire city had the same idea.
Cornelia was no stranger to Saturday market. Her mother shopped at the supermarket and also at the market near to their home. Here in Montego Bay, Cornelia saw that people still walked with straw baskets and shopped for their fresh produce. She watched them in amazement reflecting that she would never be caught dead with a straw basket in Kingston. How would that look to her friends? You could carry a large foreign-made grocery bag and place individually wrapped purchases in transparent or black polythene bags. Here, everybody wrapped their goods in newspaper and packed them in jippi jappa or wicker. As her aunt shopped, she would intermittently return to where Cornelia was standing and place more and more items in the basket. The whole experience was taking longer than necessary as she paused to catch up on news with the people that she bought from, or from friends encountered in-between the stalls.
It was a relief for Cornelia to look side-eyed at a sleek black and silver sedan that slowly pulled into the street and made its way through the crowd. Automatically, Cornelia noticed its gleaming body, its fat tyres slung around chrome rims, and most of all, the cute driver behind the steering wheel. He was older than her by just a few years and must have felt her eyes on him as he looked away from the traffic to scan the scores of people walking up and down the pavement before catching and holding her gaze. For a long moment he gave Cornelia an appreciative look before returning his eyes to the road.
“Wow,” she thought, “I’d like to meet him!”
She watched as the car turned around and return to park near to where she stood. A woman in a colourful tiehead alighted, basket in hand, and went directly into the heart of the market. After a few seconds, the driver’s door opened and the youth got out, leaned on the bonnet of the car and looked unreservedly at Cornelia. At first she felt awkward about being watched and used Isaiah to shield her face; then she decided that behaviour was foolish and returned his gaze openly and with interest.
Cornelia had never before made and held eye contact with a stranger. Something in the back of her head told her that this was barefaced immodest behaviour, unbecoming of a young woman consecrated to the Lord’s service. Her stomach and chest however were brimming over with excitement until she could hardly breathe. When the youth actually smiled and licked his lips then walked over to her, the feelings of anticipation that they would actually meet overwhelmed all her senses until she hardly knew whether she were standing or seated. She forgot the weight of the child that she was holding and the sounds and smells of the busy market faded away. All that remained was this strange sensation coursing through her body, enervating her nerve endings and causing her heart to pound mercilessly in her chest. And it was being renewed with every step of the slow, sexy walk of this good-looking guy dressed in stonewashed jeans, a muscle t-shirt and designer sneakers.
He stopped not too far from her to speak.
“Getting everything that you want?”
Cornelia nodded.
“So, your baby?”
She shook her head then realized that she needed to speak, and did so.
“He is my cousin.”
“Who are you here with?”
“My aunt, his mother. We are waiting on her.”
The thought of her aunt caused Cornelia to be jolted back to reality, If she was seen talking to this guy, who she just noticed wore jewellery, only God knew what her penance would have to be. She spoke quickly.
“Listen, my Aunt is really strict so I can’t talk to you a lot right now, you understand?” “Yeah, I get it. Check me at the Barnett Customs Brokers, ask for Jimmy.”
Cornelia saw Aunt Josie emerge from the market building, but she was speaking to another woman and not looking in their direction. Cornelia hissed at him. “Where is it?”
“Barnett Street of course. You’re not from here?”
“No, I’m on summer holidays from Kingston.”
He raised his eyebrows and smiled.
“OK then, we’ll have to make sure that you have a good time while you are here.”
“Yeah, listen, go now. Aunt Josie is coming.”
“What’s your name pretty girl?”
“Lia.”
“OK Lia, see you soon.”
He winked and strolled away.
Aunt had done a week’s shopping so a pushcart man loaded their goods on his vehicle. Cornelia recognized it to be the same cart that had carried her bags few days before. ‘Seek after God’ it read and she thought that it came from a verse in a Psalm.
