Love in Dark Settings

This is the first journal I ever kept, at the beginning of sixth grade. In imitation of the notebook kept by Harriet the Spy (I had recently read Louise Fitzhugh's novel about her), it was a stream-of-consciousness journal, where I gave a blow-by-blow account of my activities.

What was happening during this time: I was on my way to being expelled from sixth grade. (That happened the following spring.) I was bored with my schoolwork, was teased by many of my classmates, and was unbearably self-centered and whiny. I was also suffering from clinical depression and was engaging in what the school counsellor referred to euphemistically as "anti-social behavior." (I threw chairs at people when I got angry.) So this is my "rebel without a cause" notebook.

Background to my retro daily life entries

Monday, October 28, 1974: A trip to the psychiatrist.

The man who cuts his lawn every day has a beautiful lawn until fall. Then, while most of the grass is still green, his lawn becomes yellow. There's a moral there somewhere.

It's such a beautiful day I could skip. But I'm too old for that. I wish we didn't have to grow up.

I hope I don't get as ugly as those two old ladies. They're horrible. I was polite to them though. I think I'll go in.

o--o--o

I just watched Bozo, Captain C. [Captain Chesapeake, the host for the children's hour on a Baltimore television station], Bugs Bunny, and Flintstones. We're going to the Family Services to see Dr. Palmer.

o--o--o

What a modern waiting room. I wonder what his office is like. He must be rich. He even has a secretary.

Dr. Palmer is late. I bet he has a big talker in with him. There's a lady in here with us. Nothing interesting about her. I won't bother to describe her. There are some books in here but they're all for little kids except one I've already read. There are lots of magazines here, but the only one for kids is the October Highlights which I've already read ["Highlights for Children," a popular children's magazine where I would eventually be published].

Dr. Palmer has curly hair and wire framed glasses. He's wearing a blue tie with white polka dots. He has a white shirt and gray pants. He's talking to Mother and Daddy now. I forgot to add that [my brother] Glenn's at Danny's house.

What a place [Dr. Palmer] has! There's a T.V. in there, and a chess game, and a tape recorder. He also has some kind of machine I can't figure out. I'll ask him about it when I go in again. I bet as soon as I start writing he'll ask me what I'm doing, even though it's plain to see I'm writing.

I hate the personal questions. He hasn't asked me about this notebook. That machine is a video. The T.V. is part of the video too. He's taking notes too. He keeps looking at me. He must think I'm a little child. Honestly, a doll house. Really, he talks the way I was talked to when I was 4 years old. I'm going to blow up any minute. I'm getting to that point. I believe he does think I'm 4.

This writing is working. It keeps my feeling inside so I won't hurt anyone else or myself.

Honey, indeed! You'd think I was his [child]. I hope I didn't hurt him.

[As I recall, the previous sentence was a reference to the fact that I finally did chew him out.]

o--o--o

I like the city at night. We just stopped at [the fast food restaurant] Gino's. I can't wait to eat the new extra crispy Kentucky Fried Chicken. I'm hungry.

o--o--o

I have to clean up this [bedroom] before I can watch ["It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown"]. I have 20 minutes to write off. If I can write 10 pages a day, I'll be finished [with this notebook] in about 10 or 11 days. Good night.

o--o--o

Tuesday, October 29, 1974: School and a party.

That stupid radio-clock was so loud I'm surprised it didn't wake my parents too. Who knows? Maybe it did. The fact my door was open and they didn't come in is very suspicious.

I hear someone walking around. Now I hear a car door just slammed. That car just went by, and another's started. I'ts 7:38 now. Any minute Mother'll get up, and come in here to wake me up.

My stomach just gave a sound like a dog howling. Now it's growling. It's 7:42 now.

7:45. Should be about now.

7:47. There's something fishy going on. I'm getting up now.

It's 7:50. Mother's getting up.

It's 7:51 now. I went into Mother's room. She fell backwards onto the bed. She said, "That's very nice sweetheart." When will she learn not to call me sweetheart.

I had Raisin Bran, Ovaltine, and grape juice for breakfast. I hope we get some Tang soon.

It's 8:21 now, so I have to get dressed.

It's 8:40 now. I'm five minutes ahead of everyone else. I'm bringing this notebook to school. I'm also bringing a whistle and some petrified wood.

I'm on the bus now. We got here just when the bus was loading.

Tracy hasn't decided on her dance. She asked me about the notebook. I'm sitting next to Diana. Margaret is absent today. (Hurrah!) Kathy is playing Ann's bells. I showed Diana my whistle and my petrified wood.

We're going by a different route today. Now we're going up the ramp to Landover Rd. The sign says Vote Nov. 5th. You owe it to yourself. Vote now. Vote on what?

We've stopped at the lights and now we're passing the patrols' stop. They're not there, but Michaelann and Lucille are.

Now we're getting off. It's 9:12 now. I'm walking with Kim and Diana now. We're at the [classroom] door now. The door's locked as usual.

It's 9:21 now and no sign of Mr. D. [Gabriel DiGenaro, my sixth-grade teacher].

We're in class now. I just told Mr. D. about my notebook, and he said it's all right as long as I do it in my own time.

I am in the library now. I am taking out Dorp Dead, Ellen Tebbits, Beezus & Ramona, and Matthew Looney's Voyage to the Earth [which, ironically, I reread on the day I transcribed this entry]. I talked to Mrs. Sponaugle and she said she'll give me extra credit for my notebook.

I've come back at 10:00. They're doing First Aid (shock).

In P.E. [physical education] the girls threw footballs at the tire. I cut myself on a piece of rusty metal that was in the trash can I dragged over to Mr. Grose. Michaelann came in with me to wash my arm off. Now we're going to reading and language.

It's 10:50. I'm in reading now. Miss Woodoff is here. I had an argument with Felita because she called me girl.

It is 1:15. I'm sitting with Nancy, Diana, Elizabeth, and Kim. We had spaghetti for lunch.

It's 3:24. Math is over and everyone else is doing Functional Reading. Not me though. I've finished copying the committee's plans and the games for the party. Mr. D. drew a pumpkin, a ghost, a witch, and skeleton on the board. Mr. D. is putting up homework.

It's now 5:30. The [Halloween] party's over and I'm riding home in the car. [At the party] we took a vote on whether to have refreshments, games, or presents first, and presents won; Susan got a stuffed baby mouse and Dawn got a jigsaw puzzle of an owl with the caption line, "Hoo, me?" Dawn gave me a chain necklace with a penny on one side, a mirror on the other.

Then we ate the pizza and cake. The pizza was all right, but everybody hated the cake. Then we played fortunes. Mary Sue's was the funniest. After that we played scrambled Halloween words. Susan won. Then we had ice cream. It was chocolate, pistachio, and strawberry. Then we played Pin the Eye on the Teddy Bear. Mary Sue won. Dawn put her eye the farthest away, but mine was pretty far too.

After that we played a balloon game. Each person picked a blown up balloon. Inside each balloon was a number rolled up. Dawn had the same numbers on a different piece of paper. She closed her eyes and picked one number. It was three. Then everyone broke their own balloon. I couldn't find my number, but it didn't matter, because Mary Sue won.

Last of all we played Grandmother's Club. Susan did "sewing machine," so of course she won. Dawn and I got the two extra prizes. I wanted the paints, but Dawn got to them before me, so I had to take the 8 brushes. And I must have 10 at home. Oh, well, maybe I can sell them.

Then Daddy took a picture of all of us. I hope it came out good.

After supper (we had split pea soup and scrambled eggs with fried potatoes and hamburger) Mother and I started working on my costume. [I was a television when I went trick-or-treating that year, wearing a cardboard box with a "screen" in front showing scrolling panels of cartoon characters.] I had already outlined where I wanted the screen to be cut while Mother was out shopping, so all she had to do was cut. While she was doing that, I made my beanie out of a paper bag. Then we covered almost all of the 5 sides with brown paper. I can't wait till it's finished. Good night.

o--o--o

Wednesday, October 30, 1974: Not a good day.

Today I wanted to surprise Mother by putting on my new pink suit: the plan backfired. She heard me getting up at 7:00 and came in just as I was dressing. We got into an argument and are still mad at each other. One good thing was I was ready to go to school by 8:00.

[My response to being teased by several girls.] What I'd like to do to Virgina: Slap her. Hit her. Make everyone hate her. Tattle on her when she does something bad. Everybody's against me.

A reminder to tell Mr. Haynie: Margaret chews gum on the bus.

o--o--o

Saturday, November 2, 1974: Playing hookey.

I'm playing hookey from music today. I'm on the peninsula that overlooks the lake. I'm under a willow tree. I feel confident Mother won't find me here. However, I'm not too confident. If I'm too confident I won't be careful and Mother will find me.

I couldn't find my watch, so I took Mother's clock, along with this pen and notebook. Mother said I'd have to pay for my [piano] lesson if I was late, but I don't care. It's more peaceful out here and besides, I'm learning at the same time.

Someone's on the bench [nearby] now. She must have walked by me while I was writing. I must be more careful.

o--o--o

Undated: A love affair.

The only time I ever talked to Randy was when we were lined up for reading. Our conversation usually went like this:

Me: "I think it's outrageous how much handwriting we get."

John: "The girls have hardly started their puzzle." (The girls and boys each had a puzzle which they worked on in their spare time.)

Randy: "And then I made a great pass like this."

Me: "Stop jogging my shoulder!"

John: "Did you see the Redskins game last Sunday?"

Bobby: "No, we had to go to our Grandmother's."

Randy: "Randy is the greatest!"

[This was a snippet in my Olive Notebook from a memoir I was starting to write about a boy who had secretly sent me love letters when we were in the same fifth-grade class together, causing me to fall in love with him. The school mentioned in this entry and the previous school entry is John Carroll Elementary School in Landover, Maryland, which I had been attending since the middle of fourth grade. The reason I had switched schools mid-year was that the United State Supreme Court had declared that our county must racially integrate its schools through bussing. Half the children in our white town were bussed to John Carroll, which until then had been a black school. Racial tension existed at the school during the time I attended it. (I was white; Randy was black.)]

o--o--o

Undated (some time between November 1974 and March 1975 - possibly January 18, 1975?): "It was on January 18, 2005 That It Happened."

It was on January 18, 2005 that it happened.

As I sat in my prison cell, I thought about how it had all started, two days before. . . .

[Those were the opening lines of my first completed story, which I handwrote in the Olive Notebook. I'd been writing stories since age eight, but this story was the first one I actually finished. The tale was set in an army and featured a protagonist who was framed by an enemy and sentenced to life in prison. His brother, who was his commanding officer, was forced to place the protagonist under arrest. The story ends this way.]

He took a gun out of his pocket, and handed it to me. I put my finger on the trigger.

"Georgie," Mike said, "shoot me."

"You're crazy!" I yelled.

"I'm not. It's just that I can't live knowing I had my own brother imprisoned. Shoot me."

"No."

Michael reached out and pushed my hand. My finger still being on the trigger, the gun went off.

The bullet slammed into Mike's body, and as he fell into a heap on the floor he whispered, "I'm sorry, Georgie." Then he was gone.

The guard had heard the gun, of course, and when they came minutes later I was stadning in the same position I had been when I was forced to shoot Michael.

"Drop that gun or we'll shoot!" shouted one of the guards.

I did, and flung myself on the cot crying, something I hadn't done since eighteen years ago, [when] Mother died.

"Please shoot me," I cried. "I can't live knowing I killed my own brother."

So they did.

It was on January 18, 2005 that it happened.