Hersband Material

by C. Wash

  “Son, cock the mothafucka…I know you ain’t that green,” Mystro teased.

  “Nigga, I know that,” Native shot back, “I just thought you did it for me.”

  Native used her left hand to pull back the slide on the gun. It slid back smoothly before Native released it, allowing it to spring back into its original state, successfully loading a round into the chamber.

  “Now, don’t just point and shoot, slim. Use the front sight to set up your shot,” Mystro stated, pointing at the tip of the weapon before placing her earmuffs over her neatly braided cornrows, and back over her ears.

  Mystro watched as Native shot all over the target wildly. She knew that making Native an excellent shot would not come anytime soon. So she decided to call it a day, before Native accidently hit the wrong shit and caught charges.

  “Aight…aight, son,” Mystro yelled trying to get Native to stop her wild ambush. “Stop shooting.”

  “What…why?” Native asked confused. “I’m killin’ this shit.”

  “Yeah, that’s the point,” Mystro said taking the .45 out of Native’s hand, and removing the clip, releasing the last remaining bullet in the chamber.

  “You are horrible,” Mystro teased. “How the hell you got a gun in the house and was gonna fake use it on someone, when you can’t shoot for shit?”

  “I never said I knew how to shoot, I just know how to act like I do. Plus, mommy vicious with that shit; don’t let all the praying fool you. If something ever went down at the crib we good, she a crack shot.” Native explained.

  “Whatever…let’s go grab some grub. All this gunfire in the air is making me jive hungry.” Mystro said packing up the weaponry to turn back in to the gun range managers.

  ***Hooters***

  “Slim, who the fuck you been calling? You blowing up the shit out somebody phone.” Native asked observing the way that she repeatedly tried to reach someone on her cell phone.

  Mystro did not respond right away. She continued to hit the button on her iPhone that read, “Wifey” in an attempt to call Church. “Don’t worry ‘bout who the fuck I’m calling, champ,” Mystro replied defensively.

  “I’m just saying, it can’t be that serious. If they ain’t answering maybe it’s cuz they don’t wanna talk, or they can’t. Try texting ‘em and see what happens,” Native suggested, while grabbing her glass and throwing back the rest of her beer.

  Mystro was beyond heated. She hated that there were times she tried to call Church, and could not reach her. She didn’t care that the repeat calling may give Church the impression that she was a borderline stalker. She just wanted to get her on the phone.

  “Fuck it,” Mystro yelled, slamming her phone down on the table before grabbing her drink.

  “Whoa, homie. You burnt up? Shawty musta finally threw that thing on your hopelessly in love ass and got you twisted.” Native laughed, taking a bite out of her chicken wing. “I can’t stand when you start checking for a broad. You really get to tripping. Why do you always go overboard with women?”

  “What you talking about, I’m not even calling that girl.” Mystro lied, attempting to conceal her anger. “I was trying to call the hospice about Mack but the line is busy.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Mystro. You forget that I know you better than you know yourself.” Native admitted.

  Mystro was caught. Instead of continuing to lie, she sat in silence and tried to eat her food.

  “Now I see why you ain’t been home a lot lately. You prolly been stuck up under shawty like her shadow and shit.” Native stated.

  “Yeah, aight I admit, we been kicking it, but it ain’t what you think,” Mystro added. “I’m chilling right now.”

  “That’s what you always say, son. Next thing I know you browsing jewelry stores looking for rings and shit.” Native replied, before laughing hysterically.

  “Shut the fuck up, son,” Mystro said throwing a chicken bone across the booth in Native’s direction.

  “Go ‘head, man. You ‘bout to get a stain on my white Polo shit,” Native yelled, dodging the flying foul bone.

  “What difference do it make? You only wear your white T’s once before tossing ‘em or balling in ‘em, anyway.” Mystro said sarcastically.

  The Hooters waitress came over to the booth, and placed the check on the table. Mystro grabbed it up before reaching into her cargo’s to grab her wallet.

  “Damn, the fuck you doing, slinging?” Native questioned, while eyeballing the two crisp one hundred dollar bills Mystro had in her black leather wallet.

  “Naw, just cuz you wanted out doesn’t mean I stopped performing,” Mystro explained. “Church got me doing some small solo shit for practice up the spot. I’m not doing too bad for myself either.” Mystro placed the cash into the Hooter’s bill folder.

  Native was silent. She thought about the amount of money she had in her own pocket, and felt like maybe another sit down with Church was in order. To be honest all she had to show for her stubbornness were a pair of brand new Lebron X’s that she convinced Ife to cop for her. But, it wasn’t like she could pay no bill with them either.

  “It could be more of this for everybody if you come back in, son,” Mystro said looking at Native in her attempt to plant her seed to have Native rejoin the group. “But I can’t make you. The decision is yours.”

  Before Native could respond, a guy at the booth adjacent to Mystro and Native began coughing non-stop.

  “Sir, are you alright?” The Hooters waitress asked him.

  The guy continued to cough as if something went down his throat wrong until he suddenly threw-up all over his table. His stomach contents missed the waitress, but splattered slam on Native’s brand new Lebron's. Her new shoes were ruined.

  Native was furious. Without further pause or care about her reserved feelings towards Church, Native said, “Son, why don’t you go ‘head and call ole girl right now. Tell her I’m ready to play ball.”

  Chapter 11

  From the open doorway, Mystro watched Church’s every move as she instructed her Zumba class at the local gym. She was completely smitten with Church and thought she was mesmerizing. She continued to gawk at her from the hallway as Native looked on in pity.

  “Son, I’m mad as shit that you bringing that girl roses,” Native said angrily, standing next to her. They were waiting for the class to be over to have their meeting with Church. Mystro was intending on helping Native and Church make amends, in the hopes that they could get money together again. Her other aim was to make Church happy so she could give Mystro a chance.

  “Mind your business, young.” Mystro said growing tired of Native giving her unsolicited two cents about her and Church.

  “I’m serious, you not gonna have to worry about me fucking this shit up,” Native responded. “Shawty gonna run scared behind your stalking ass.”

  “Nigga, stop hating,” Mystro shot back. “You need to be taking notes.”

  The class just finished and Mystro anxiously walked into the room before any of the dance students had a chance to exit.

  “Hey, babe, did you miss me?” Mystro asked Church, handing her the rainbow colored roses, and leaning in for a kiss.

  “Hey,” Church replied, a little embarrassed, turning her head so Mystro kissed her cheek instead of her lips. “Thank you, you shouldn’t have.” She continued, noticing how some of her students looked on in shock before leaving the classroom.

  “You welcome, ma, that’s light work,” Mystro said proudly not realizing Church was not as excited as she should have been.

  “What’s up stranger,” Church said to Native, breaking the awkward moment.

  “What up, girl,” Native said, shaking her head at Mystro.

  “So, you ready to work with me on this?” Church asked.

  “Yeah, yeah…I guess so. I mean I saw the loot my nigga had and figured it was time to put my pride to the side for the greater good of my pockets.” Native confessed.

  “That’s what I’m talking about,
” Church said while turning to face Mystro to wink.

  Mystro blushed.

  “So I see you fly again today, but I hope you brought some workout clothes. I gotta get you on them cardio machines.” Church stated, referring to how Native was dressed.

  “Naw, fuck all that,” Native yelled. “I got my shit. Play me some music.”

  Mystro was in disbelief, and a little skeptical of what Native was about to do. She sat on the hardwood floor with her back up against the mirror to take a front row seat. Church walked over to her iPod to select a song for Native.

  She selected, Make A Movie, by Twista and Chris Brown. The song was a bit faster than what they would normally dance off, but Native worked it out. She began her routine and executed every single move without fail. Mystro watched in shock as Native commanded her routine with accuracy. Church moved her body to the music and could not remove the smile off her face. She was pleased and impressed.

  Mystro noticed how happy Church was. And not to be outdone, she jumped up from her floor seat and fell in line next to Native while contributing her part of the routine. They both finished out the performance and brought the dance to a close.

  Church was elated. “Ok, I see someone been practicing.”

  “Told you I had my shit.” Native answered.

  “What about me, baby?” Mystro asked thirsty for attention.

  “I know you had your part, hon. But you did look good together.”

  “So what’s next, coach?” Native asked.

  “I think class is over for the day,” Church replied. “It’s time to go look for outfits for you two. Ya’ll trying to hit the mall?”

  “Fuck yeah, shopping is my favorite hobby.” Native boasted.

  Mystro shook her head and laughed at her friend before walking towards Church. She waited for her to finish gathering her belongings and packing her gym bag. When she had it ready and zipped, Mystro picked it up off the table to carry it out to the car. Church grabbed her roses and smiled at Mystro.

  Although Church knew Mystro overdid it when it came to her, she loved how sweet she was at times. No one had ever carried her things for her, ever. She loved her chivalry.

  The three women walked out of the classroom and directly out of the crowded gym. Mystro held the door open as Church led them out into the parking lot. They were headed towards Church’s ride, when a nigga in a gold Lexus jumped out of his car and stormed up to Church.

  Mystro and Native both stopped in their tracks to observe the scene. The nigga grabbed Church by her right elbow and pulled her to him forcefully. In the friction, she dropped her roses.

  Mystro went from zero to sixty in two seconds and rushed up to the dude with Native quickly on her Jordan heels. “What the fuck is up, slim?” Mystro yelled and pushed him from behind, while dropping Church’s gym bag and squaring her body up in preparation to go toe-to-toe.

  Dude stumbled off the push but once he regained his footing, he turned around slowly to face Mystro with pure venom in his eyes.

  The nigga was six feet tall, and looked like all muscle. Mystro may have gotten her crazy ass whooped all over the parking lot, but she wasn’t gonna let some nigga manhandle her boo either. Native stood directly by Mystro’s side with her fist balled up ready for whatever.

  “Church, you better tell this wanna be nigga that I’m ‘bout to treat her like the dude she thinks she is, and cave her fucking chest in.” Dude said.

  “I already made the first move, champ,” Mystro yelled back. “Make yours.”

  Chapter 12

  It had been days since Mystro spoke to Church and she was losing her mind. She tried reaching her after the incident that happened in the gym’s parking lot but Church never answered her calls. Mystro even showed up at Church’s house unannounced to talk to her, but could never catch her home. She didn’t want Native to know she was upset, so she had to keep her cool. And the day to show and prove finally arrived.

  The club was dimly lit and the sexy older femme dancer, draped in her red sequined evening gown, made her final pleas for tips, before leaving the floor stage. The Delta was famous for allowing older women, who still had it, to grace the stage. Mystro and Native stood at the edge, as their time to shine was fast approaching. They dropped back two shots each of their favorite peach Ciroc until their liquid wings appeared.

  “Time to put in work,” Mystro yelled, holding up her fist out to Native.

  “Showtime,” Native yelled, back as she pounded Mystro’s fist.

  “Yes sir…that was Ms. Queen, give her some love.” MC yelled into the microphone at the crowd. Queen, the older dancer, took her exit stage left walking right by Native but not before leaving her with a wink.

  Native smiled and winked back.

  Mystro laughed.

  “Aight, ladies, the moment you’ve all been waiting for is upon us. Returning to our stage, new and improved, give it up for Hersband Material,” she announced Mystro and Native’s new stage name as they walked out.

  The DJ played an instrumental version of their requested song, Mirror, by Neyo, as the spotlight rolled slowly up on Mystro and Native from foot to head. They appeared before the club donned in smoking jackets and silk pajama pants. Completing their look with ascots and leather fur lined slippers. Native’s hair was parted down the middle and styled into her traditional French braids. Mystro’s head no longer played host to her cornrows, her hair was blown out straight and hanging below her shoulders. Accompanying these two smooth Dom’s on stage now was a full length, stand-alone mirror and a single chair that Baby Dom set up.

  The ladies standing around the stage began to scream and whistle. They threw dollars on the stage although Mystro and Native hadn’t made a move. The duo remained still all except their eyes. They appeared to be scanning the crowd before them. Both of their eyes settled on a short, thick, dark-skinned femme with slanted eyes. Mystro and Native looked at each other, shared a head nod and then looked back at the girl.

  Mystro reached her hand out to the girl. The woman accepted her hand, and Mystro led her onto the floor stage. Once she was there, Native grabbed her waist and whispered into her ear, before Mystro led her to the chair directly in front of the mirror. The money continued to pour in as the spectators soaked up the show.

  Mystro sat the lucky lady down, as Native stood in front of her blocking her reflection from the mirror. Native began to open her crimson jacket, revealing her ascot and wife beater. She untied the neck ware, and slipped it behind the girl’s back. With one swift move Native pulled the girl up. Once she was on her feet, Mystro kicked the chair out from under her. Native pulled her in close to her body and began to eye fuck her. Just then, the DJ dropped the regular version of Neyo’s ballad. The femme volunteer looked on in complete anticipation of their next move.

  Biggie Dom, who is also in attendance, was in awe of the duo just as she had been before. Baby Dom is there and makes an attempt to start to collect all the fallen money, when Church comes out of nowhere and smacks her hand.

  “Uh uhn…I got it,” Church advised. “Go get a drink,” she ordered. “I got this.”

  If looks could kill, Church would sure enough be a stiff. Baby Dom bounced off to the bar, but not before mean mugging Church.

  After ten minutes of seduction, screams and flowing money. The duo wrapped up their elaborate show. The club went crazy and begged for more.

  “Son, we banged that shit out,” Native screamed the moment she burst through the dressing room door, leaving it open for Mystro.

  “Yeah,” Mystro said unenthused walking through the open door removing her ascot and jacket.

  “What’s the matter with you, nigga,” Native asked taking off her slippers.

  Mystro didn’t answer; she turned her attention to Church followed by Baby Dom walking through the dressing room door.

  “Oh my God, ya’ll killed up there.” Church yelled in excitement, running up to Mystro to give her a hug.

  Mystro bent down and hugged Churc
h, and immediately noticed the sour face that Baby Dom made over Church’s shoulder.

  “Look at all this money ya’ll made,” Church displayed. “It has to be at least a thousand dollars here, if not more and it’s all yours, minus my twenty percent of course.” Church continued.

  “Mmm hmm, I knew you was gonna get yours somehow.” Native commented sarcastically. “Here you go, young nigga. Take this ball, you paid back that debt so you earned this bump.” Native told Baby Dom, while handing her a hundred dollars.

  “Naw, Fam, I’m good,” Baby Dom responded, in a sullen demeanor. “Look, I’ma wait for ya’ll out by the ride.” she finished before leaving out of the dressing room.

  The room held an uncomfortable silence as all three women took in the unrecognizable mood Baby Dom was in.

  “Uh, look, Native, do you mind if I speak with Mystro alone?” Church asked.

  “Yeah, it’s cool. I wanna go check on my youngin’ anyway,” Native stated. “I’ll see you upstairs, My.” She continued, grabbing her things and leaving out the room, closing the door behind her.

  “Mystro,” Church started, “Why are you acting so distant? I thought you’d be excited to see me tonight.”

  “Where you been, Church, I haven’t talked to you in days.”

  “Baby, I had to go to New York to teach a class of teenage girls. While I was out there, I lost my phone. You know how I have to go out of town every now and again. I told you that.” She explained. “But you knew I would be here tonight, I missed you.” She continued trying to pull Mystro in for a kiss.

  Mystro kissed her, but still wore a look of concern on her face.

  “What’s wrong now?” Church asked.

  “I’m still jive pissed about that nigga that manhandled you in the parking lot,” Mystro confessed. “I don’t know no landlord that be trying to fling folks around and shit. So something doesn’t sound right.”

  “So you don’t believe me? I told you he was pissed because I shorted the money for my rent since he didn’t fix my hot water heater.” Church explained.