Romiette and Julio (2 page)

I’d like to find a guy who could talk to me about more than the latest singing group or the scores of last night’s game. I want a boy who wonders about life on other planets or if there ever was a continent called Atlantis. I’d like to be able to talk to him about adopting children or the World Wide Web or whether
there’s a Heaven and a Hell. I want a boy I could tell my dreams to and he wouldn’t laugh. He’d understand my fear. I want a boy who would go see a play or a ballet, not just a hockey game or a car show. I believe a relationship should be well balanced. But boys who are smart, good-looking thinkers, if they go to my school, they’re hiding from me. I don’t think I look too bad, but nobody has seemed to notice yet.

I have soft brown skin, dark brown hair, and light brown eyes like my dad. My favorite color is orange because I think I look good in it. I’ve got a big smile and even, white teeth that my dad paid a whole lot of money for when I got my braces at twelve. I like school and make good grades most of the time. I have a computer, which really helps my homework look good, and I have friends who I talk to regularly on the Internet. My parents love me, my friends think I’m OK, and I like myself most of the time.

Just as Romiette closed her journal, the alarm clock sliced the silence. It was 6
A.M.,
and time to get up for school. All of a sudden she was really sleepy, and sorry she had missed two hours of sleep. She sighed, glanced at her pillow, put the journal away under her mattress, and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

It was the first day back after Christmas vacation. The weather was cold—high about twenty, the weatherman said, and snow was predicted. Romiette hoped it would snow all day and all night, enough to call school off for tomorrow. Not likely, she thought, but even after a two-week break, the prospect of an unexpected free day looked great. Romi wore her new pale yellow sweats and shoes, and knew she looked good. She was a little sleepy, but she had grabbed a cup of coffee and a doughnut on the way to school, which she figured would get her through the day.

She entered the front hall, still sipping the last of her coffee. Kids were crowded into the hall, trying to escape the cold, waiting for the bell to ring. Everyone was laughing and joking, comparing new shoes that had been Christmas presents, and talking about the parties and the big basketball game from last week. Romiette had known many of these kids since kindergarten, and she felt comfortable and accepted in the crowd. Destiny, Romi’s best friend, dressed in bright pink sweats (they had planned their outfits last night
on the phone), her hair newly braided, yelled all the way across the hall, “Hey, Romi! Girls in the house!”

“Hey, Destiny—what’s my ’scope for the day?” Destiny did everyone’s horoscope and sun signs. She really believed that the stars control the lives of everyone and she did
nothing
without consulting one of the many books she carried for reference. Some of the girls asked Destiny to do a chart for a boy they liked, and even though half of them didn’t really believe it all, it was fun, and it was better than just guessing what he might be like.

“Looks good for you, girlfriend. New man coming into your life, but you won’t know it for a while.”

“Well, I guess I better get rid of the old one first. Marcus, you’re outta my life, as of this morning. Destiny has spoken.”

“I wish I hadda known I was your man. I woulda taken advantage of it, for sure.”

“Yeah, I bet you woulda tried! See, that’s why I never told you.”

“My heart is broke to pieces! I guess I’m gonna have to keep my girl Ebony here. You the one, girl!” Marcus bowed with fake respect.

“You better watch it, Marcus! Playin’ games right in front of my face!” Ebony complained.

“Aw, you know I was just teasin’! You my sweet little Ebony treat. I could just pick you up and sling you to those stars that Destiny be talkin’ about all the time!”

“Put me down, Marcus!”

She screamed like she was about to die, but she was laughing, and everyone knew she loved the
attention. Destiny and Romiette laughed; they’d both known Marcus and Ebony since fifth grade. They got ready to head to their lockers then, planning to meet again at lunch. Both girls were juniors, but they had very few classes together. Only English with Miss Berry. It was a big school, with about five hundred in each class, so they felt lucky to have lockers close together and one class to share.

“I got something to tell you, Destiny,” Romi confided.

“What’s up, girl?” Destiny was instantly interested.

“I’ve been having this dream ….”

“The same dream every night?”

“Yeah, almost,” admitted Romi.

“Ooo, I love it! Dreams aren’t my specialty, but I got this book ….”

“I knew you would.”

“What’s it about? Trains? That means you’re gonna travel. Bridges mean you have a decision to make. And bears mean, well, that means you’re scared of bears!” Destiny declared.

“No, this one is really scary,” Romi said quietly.

“Tell me.”

“In the dream, I’m drowning,” Romi began. “In deep water, like almost dying. It’s terrible, and I’m almost afraid to go to sleep.”

“Anything else?” Destiny’s eyes were intent.

“Yeah, the water is so cold, it’s hot.”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

“Dreams aren’t supposed to make sense! And I’m choking and almost dead, then there’s this voice ….” It
was getting difficult for Romi to tell her friend all of this. It was hard enough to experience, but to say it out loud made it more real and much more frightening.

“Whose voice? Mine?”

“No, it’s a male voice. A voice I’ve never heard before. Not my dad’s. Not any dude from around here.”

“I like it! Does he save you?” Destiny was intrigued now.

“I don’t know. I always wake up just as I hear his voice. Is it true that if you dream you die, then you wake up dead?” Romi asked quietly.

“You mean that you really will die? I’ve heard that, but nobody who ever died got to come back and tell! Tell me more.”

Romi sighed. “I wish I could. That’s all I know, but I’m not sleeping very well and I’m getting scared.”

“Well, didn’t your horoscope say a new man was coming into your life? Maybe you’re hearing his voice.” Destiny was trying to be helpful.

“I don’t know, but something’s got to give soon. I don’t like this,” admitted Romi.

Just then, the bell rang for first period, and somebody yelled, “Fight! Fight! Two dudes is goin’ at it!” Dozens of kids rushed to the side of the front hall near the door. Romiette sighed and looked at Destiny. They gave each other a bored shrug, and declared at the same time, “Boys.” Romiette never even glanced toward the crowd that surrounded a kid with green hair and a new boy that nobody had seen before.

He was tall. He was strong. He was angry. And he wasn’t afraid to fight. Julio strode down the streets of Cincinnati on that January day, coat collar not doing much to cover his ears from the twenty-degree winds, boots unlaced, fists thrust into his pockets, numbed from the cold. The only thing that kept him warm was his anger. Anger at his parents for bringing him to this cold, gray city. Anger at the sky for being harsh and uncaring. Anger at himself for being scared and shivering in this ugly place. If somebody, anybody, had spoken to him then, he might have lashed out to release his fury. He wanted to destroy a wall or the sky.

But the sidewalk was empty that January morning. Everyone with sense was on a bus or in a car, or inside a heated building. But the bus he thought he was supposed to take never arrived, so after thirty minutes of freezing in the winter wind, he started walking. The school was three or four miles down the road, he figured, so using his anger as a cloak, he headed down the street to a school he had never
seen, in a city he had just moved to, to enroll for classes in the second semester of the eleventh grade.

Julio had just moved from Corpus Christi, Texas. He hated Cincinnati with a passion. To Julio, it was cold and dreary and everything seemed to be gray. There was dirty snow all over the dirty sidewalks.
Everything seems tight and enclosed, like nobody breathes here,
he thought.
I want to throw paint everywhere out my window and color this place up! They expect me to LIVE here? Do these people ever have any fun? Not likely. I bet you can’t even get a good enchilada here.
As he walked, his toes losing their feeling inside his boots, he glanced at the few barren, black trees that lined the street. Mostly he saw fast-food places and liquor stores next to storefront churches. Piles of trash to be collected. Recycling bins with beer bottles and unread newspapers. A few pigeons. His mood grew darker.

There are no big, sweeping magnolia trees,
thought Julio,
only runty little maple trees with cold, skinny branches, no leaves—all naked and stupid-looking. The river here is dirty and dull, not like the beautiful Nueces River, where I learned to swim and sail and fish. Papa said something about going fishing on the Ohio River in the spring. Not me! Probably just catch some old beer cans. No fish with any sense would live in that nasty water!

He had seen the Ohio River as he and his family flew in over the city. It was brown and thick, and looked more like oozing mud to Julio than refreshing water. He could not imagine why anyone would want to swim in such filth.

Julio loved to swim. He probably learned to swim before he could walk. Water was like his second skin, soothing and relaxing after a hot day in Texas. He was on a swim team once, and the coach tried to get him to think about training for the Olympics, but he figured it would take the fun out of swimming. He also liked to sail with his uncle on his boat. He was a good sailor, and had been planning to buy a little sailboat of his own next year. Sailboat races were held every Wednesday, and last year Julio had won in the junior division. Kids in Corpus Christi get boats instead of cars when they turn sixteen.

Thinking about home made his anger return. Right there on the Gulf of Mexico, swimming and boating were second nature to him. But all that was gone. Nothing remained but cold and bitterness. No soft, warm ocean air, no soft Hispanic flavor here. Just about everybody in Corpus Christi spoke English and Spanish fluently. Most of the people there had relatives in Mexico, across the Rio Grande. The music on the radio, the conversations on the bus, even the breezes that blew there had Spanish melodies floating from them. Here, everything was different. Julio muttered to himself, “May as well have
No habla español!
posted in large
gray
(of course) letters on every dull brown building here.”

He had called his friend Diego the night before. Diego had just come in from playing soccer. It was seventy-one degrees back home in Texas. Julio gritted his teeth.

“Hey, Diego,
mi amigo, ¿qué pasa?
What’s up?” Julio
could almost feel the Texas breeze over the phone. He sighed.

“
De nada,
Julio. How’s Cincinnati?” Diego was slurping on a Popsicle. “Ain’t no fun here anymore since you left, man!”

“I hate it here, man. Just ’cause my dad lost his job, I gotta move a million miles from my home so he can start over. It’s just not fair!”

Diego had heard Julio complain about this many times. Lots of kids had parents who were suddenly out of work. Several factories had moved out of town, and places like the insurance company that Julio’s dad worked for had to cut back because folks just couldn’t make the payments. Diego’s dad had been out of work for five years. “Stuff is rough, man.”

“I hear you!” Suddenly Julio thought about how rough life was for Diego and he was sorry he had complained so loudly. Diego had six sisters, lived in a small apartment, and his mom watched three-year-olds to make ends meet. There was never anyplace to sit or have a moment of silence. That’s how they had become friends. Julio’s house was cool and quiet. Diego used to come just to “breathe in some silence,” he always said. Julio, on the other hand, loved to go to Diego’s place because two of his sisters were “really fine.” Diego didn’t think so, but Julio liked to hang around just to see them brush their hair or laugh on the phone. He even took Maria to the movies once or twice. “How’re your sisters?” Julio asked then.

“Angelina is getting married next year. They got engaged at Christmastime. I’ll still have five left here, though. I
never
get in the bathroom! That’s why I hate you moved, Julio. You had such a nice bathroom!”

“Glad you appreciate the finer things of life, man.” Julio grinned.

“What’s it like there? Is it like Corpus Christi?” asked Diego.

“Not even close. Bunch of taco fast-food stores—that’s about it—and that stuff all tastes like cardboard. And a bunch of ugly buildings that all look like cardboard.” Julio sighed again, remembering how homesick he was.

“Do the gray buildings there in Ohio have gang stuff scribbled all over them like here?” Diego knew the other reason that Julio’s family moved to Cincinnati was because of the crime and the gangs at their school in Texas. Gang members in their colors roamed the halls, threatening kids and roughing up anybody who opposed them. Fights between the two rival gangs broke out every day.

“Who cares? Gangs are gonna be everywhere, Diego.”

“It’s getting worse, man. During Christmas break they spray-painted graffiti all over the walls—even in the classrooms. The teachers and principal can’t seem to stop them!”

“I’m not surprised. You know, even if the graffiti is cleaned off and painted away, by next week it’ll probably be back.”

“Now you’re gone, Julio, I’m one of the few who still
ain’t in no gang. It’s hard being out here by myself! I can’t ride the school bus or eat lunch in the cafeteria.”

Julio and Diego were talking about the unspoken law. They had to eat lunch every day on the steps, try not to act scared, walk home the long way. Either you were in a gang, or you were nobody. It was hard to concentrate on schoolwork with fights in the hall every day and bullies in colors pushing everyone around.