Short Tales from Guyana to New York

By Ann Diamond

A collection of short tales from Guyana to New York seen thru the eyes of a young Guyanese girl who later became a citizen.
Comedy, drama and loss are all part of this collection. Some stories will tickle your funny bones and others will make you cry. Happy reading!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jul 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312334144

Book preview

Short Tales from Guyana to New York

Book Cover

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Part1

Guyana’s Short Tales

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Chapter1

Journey to the Past

Journey to the past

Days turned into months and months into years since I've last visited a place, where the journey of quiet and simplicity existed.  We were country folks, but did not see it as such.  The wiser ones in our village said.

Better to live a day at a time, and not bother, because our choices were few.

Our home sat on a corner lot surrounded by the sweet scent of chamomile flowers and roses.  In the still of nights you can hear the washing sounds of the Atlantic Ocean against the concrete wall that protected our village.  By day, there was always the smell of food, laughter or someone saying Hello to another.

I can still see Agee (Grandma) sitting in her rocking chair, rocking to and fro while smoking her cigarettes.  Behind her lay the fireside filled with warm coals, and upon it sat a pot of simmering curry or stew.  There was always a tin container of scalded milk waiting to be served to whoever may drop by.  There also came an invitation to share a simple meal, or enjoy a banquet of plain laughter. The journey of the village life went by.

Now this future journey, is my destiny or luck.  I know that I exist, in this different life.  It's not perfect, but it comes surrounded by the entertainment and the rushes of city life.  The future needs takes first place.  Sights and sounds of this new life become daunting.  The reality of beauty fades away. The concrete talks that freezes the conversations and pollutes the inner being can drive one’s life into paralysis.

That's when I close my eyes.  That old rocking chair; that certain smell; the sound of crashing waves which soothed me, as I go forward into a journey from the past.

© 2003 by Ann Diamond.   All rights reserved.

Chapter2

I will get off. Guyanese style

I will get off, Guyanese style

Another day of trouble, and his name was Clyde.  He was not a man as yet but acted like one.  Tall and fair of skin with a booming voice, and was able to terrify the people in our village, or so he thought.

Then one day he staggered drunkenly towards his neighbor's locked gate.

Open da gate short man.  Me want talk to you.  I like you daughter, you know.  All a then good looking, maybe I tek all three ah them.

Staring at Clyde from beneath his house, Ramu shook his head then slid off the bench he was sitting on, and reached below and pulled out the largest greenheart fire wood he could find, then began walking towards Clyde.  Thinking all the time he was just glad that his wife and daughters were not home to witness what was about to happen.  Then Ramu saw Chun running toward her son, saying loud enough so everyone can hear.

Move you backside from them people gate.  Da man go kill you, and he would get off (meaning, he will be free from legal judgment).

Then grabbing her son she pried loose his hands from the gate, and pulled him away.  After a few steps away she glanced at Ramu sucking her teeth and mumbling. What you think you gonna do with dat wood?

Then she spat in disgust and kept dragging her son along.

That night long after every one was in bed Clyde woke the neighborhood again.  This time he was sober, standing on the bridge and