by Styles, T.
“He’s gettin’ beat!” Miss Dayshawn says.
“I know that but why?”
In the corner of my eye I see Miss Parade and Miss Daffany moving toward the door.
“Stay over there,” I instruct them with my hands. I don’t need them being anywhere near this drama. Who knows if Miss Paul is packin’ heat.
“Miss Tyrone ain’t been payin’ the bills and I ain’t know.” Miss Dayshawn says to me. “Now Queen Paul wants us out of here tonight. Where we gonna go at the last minute?”
“First off why you lettin’ Miss Tyrone handle the bills? You know she ain’t good with responsibility.”
“I know but his wife use to give us money for the rent.”
“You mean to tell me Shannon still carryin’ his ass and paying his bills?”
“Sometimes.”
“Well what about the credit cards? You not gettin’ them no more?”
“I didn’t want to tell you, Wayne, but I lost the connect I had at M&T bank. He got fired for givin’ me customer credit information. They tryin’ to prosecute him now and everything. I still have an inside connect but he’s acting scared and barely answers his calls. It’s just a matter of time before he stops helping us too.”
Miss Dayshawn’s connect at the credit card company was how I ran my credit card schemes on the side. Thank goodness I had the legit business because I don’t know what I would’ve done.
“That’s heavy, Miss Day. You should’ve told me!”
With the news he was bringin’ me, I forgot Miss Tyrone was gettin’ kicked around like a NFL football. Just as I look inside, we see Miss Tyrone’s entire bare ass being smushed against the sliding glass. Paul has ripped the old fish clothes’ right off her body.
“YUCK!” We all say lookin’ at the crustiness that is her behind. A small circle of fog forms around it.
“Damn it! That bitch is beatin’ Miss Tyrone’s ass for POINTS!” I say.
“Somebody go help her!” Miss Adrian screams coverin’ his mouth. Miss Adrian is so pretty and so feminine, that sometimes you forget she’s a boy even though he doesn’t dress in drag all the time. “It’s gonna kill her!”
“Ain’t nobody gonna kill nobody!”
I take off my shoes and hop down the stairs. Then I walk around to the front of the house, take the plastic off the window next to the door and unlock the door. Once inside, and without wastin’ time, I grab Paul’s barracuda lookin’ ass by the shop-mart weave she’s wearin’ and punch her so hard in the face, she smiles.
“Listen, I don’t know what’s goin’ on, but you picked the wrong time to pull some shit like this!” I maintain my hold on her hair and she’s bent at my feet.
“Yeah, bitch!” Miss Tyrone screams jumpin’ around, naked from the waist down. “What you gonna do now?”
“Miss Tyrone, be a queen and go put somethin’ on! Your pussy is showin’ and you scarin’ the fuck out of everybody outside.”
“Oh,” he says in a feminine tone as she covers her penis and runs in the room…her entire ass out for all to see. “I’ll be back.”
“This is my house and all ya’ll gots to go!” Paul continues. “Look at my fuckin’ windows! Big Boody Brandy told me ‘bout all the shit ya’ll got goin’ on ‘round here!”
“Did Big Boody tell you she was the one who shot up the house?”
“All I know is I want ya’ll out of here!”
“And if we don’t leave? Just what the fuck are you gonna do about it?” I grab her weave tighter.
“Wayne you ain’t got a whole lot to do with this now…‘course all that could change if you want it to.”
This bitch tries it so I release her, drop my voice three octaves and approach.
“Fuck you say?” I ask in my natural male tenor.
She looks at me, and then everyone else and says, “So ya’ll gonna jump me now?”
“If I needed their help I would’ve unlocked the balcony door a long time ago.”
“You always have been jealous of me.” She says sweat pouring down her face.
“And then you woke up,” I smirk.
“Ain’t no free rides in my house.” She picks up a few pieces of her hairball from the floor and says, “Jealous bitches.” Then she grabs her purse and moves toward the door, knockin’ a porcelin object to the floor in the process.
“Jealous? Not with that Target outfit on we ain’t,” I say looking her up and down.
“And that ain’t even a real Gucci!” Miss Adrian yells from the patio.
Paul looks back at us and says, “Out tomorrow! And I’m bringing the cops with me to make sure you’re gone too!”
When she slams the door, I unlock the patio and everyone piles inside. Some of them recant the recent events but Miss Dayshawn picks up the pieces of a broken black porcelain panther from the floor.
“What is this?” I ask helping her while everyone else finds a seat inside, maintaining their idle chatter.
“Dell bought it for me…right before he left me and moved to Atlanta.”
Dell was good to her but Miss Dayshawn all of a sudden acted as if she didn’t want the relationship. That man wanted to marry her and trust when I tell you it’s hard in the gay community to find someone who wants to be with you for life.
All Dell wanted was for her to make a commitment and move with him. He had a great job lined up and it wasn’t like Miss Dayshawn was working. Why he didn’t go with him is still a mystery to me and to this day she never saw or heard from Dell again.
“It’ll be okay,” I tell her softly. She looks at me and smiles.
“I hope so.”
I pat her on the back and we finish cleaning up the mess. I know how good it feels to get a gift you cherish from someone you love and I know even more how bad it feels to have it taken away.
Reflecting On The Younger Years Miss Wayne
Wayne had a rough day in school when he came running into his quiet home. He didn’t understand why kids teased him. So what he talked and walked feminine. He never bothered anybody and didn’t understand why others bothered him.
“You’re too big to be actin’ like that!” one kid would say. “And you a boy!”
“My mother told me not to play with punks!” another would say.
He was just tired of being persecuted for something he didn’t understand. He wasn’t trying to act like a girl. He was just trying to be himself.
“Hey, son,” Marbel said walking up to him as he sat quietly on the large flower sofa with turquoise trims in the living room. She’d been doing much better with the Multiple Sclerosis and the moment Wayne saw her Hershey kissed skin, he smiled.
“Hey, Mama. I see you’re doin’ betta today.” She sat down and he scooted closer to her, flinging his pink Barbie book bag on the floor. “You want or need anything?”
“Yes I do, but he’s here now.” Wayne rested his head on her shoulder.
“Mama…how come you doin’ betta now? Is the medicine finally workin’?”
“Why you ask, Wayne? You not happy I’m doing better?” she joked looking down at him.
“I am. I just don’t understand what happened. Last month you couldn’t walk, now you walk by yourself.”
“Son, there’s something about love that just does it for you. I mean, when I saw you the day your father hit you, on the floor, all helpless,” she stared out into her living room, “I saw what life would be like for you without me. It’s too early for me to leave and I gots so much to teach you. So much I want you to learn.”
A tear fell from Wayne’s face. “I hate, daddy! He hate me and I hate him too!”
Marbel separated herself from her Wayne and said, “Son, don’t ever let me hear you say something like that again. Understood?” she lowered her chin. When he nodded yes she pulled him back to rest on her shoulder. “Your father loves you. He do. He’s just worried that’s all. It’s gonna be tough being the Queen you are.” They both laughed. “But,” her voice got deeper, “it’s tougher than anything not bein
g yourself. And no matter what you do son, live your whole life loving people and yourself, for what they really are. In the end, it’s all you got.”
“I love you, ma.”
“I love you too. And I’m already proud of your future and you ain’t even grown yet.”
“Why you say that?”
“’Cause, you’re gonna be a great friend. People will be drawn to you like a magnet. But you’re gonna have to watch the people you surround yourself wit’ too, Wayne. Everyone who wants your friendship ain’t fittin’ to be in your presence. Remember that.”
He smiled thinking of the future because as it stood, he didn’t have a friend in the world.
“Hold up. I almost forgot that I have somethin’ for you.” Marbel pushed herself up and walked into the room, returning with a red shoebox. “Open it.”
Wayne’s eyes lit up as he accepted the box. And when he removed the lid and saw his first pair of red glitter pumps, he squeezed his mother so hard he almost hurt her.
“Thank you, mama! They look like Dorothy’s slippers from the Wizard of Oz.”
“I got them from a Toy store.”
Wayne placed his feet into the shoes and although all of his toes were lying on top of one another inside of them because they didn’t fit, he strutted around the living room like a model on a runway.
“How do I look, mama?”
“Happy. You look happy, son.”
The next day, he had another rough time at school. This time it didn’t bother him as much because he knew he’d get a chance to wear his shoes when he got home and mentally escape. He could pretend he was a star, had lots of friends and everyone liked him. But when he pulled the box from underneath his bed and removed the lid, the red shoes were gone.
In an instant, his world was crushed. With his head hung low and his spirit weakened, he walked into the hallway with the empty box in his hands. He stopped short when he saw his father’s silhouette in the doorway.
Bells was just about to leave when he turned around and looked at his son. And when Wayne saw him, he knew instantly that he’d taken his shoes.
“Why, dad?”
Bells looked at him with a smirk on his face and walked out the door.
A Decision To Be Made
jmiss wayneL
The car ride to the Baltimore Washington Airport was very quiet until Miss Tyrone decides to blast Lil Wayne’s Carter 3 album.
They can’t stop me!
Even if they stopped me!
Yeah!
I’m on it! I’m so on it.
He looked ridiculous tryin’ to be tough while waggin’ his extra long pink fingernails with rhinestones on them back and forth in the air. His body bounced around in the passenger seat in his hot pink short set as Adrian drove us down the road.
“Bitch, shut your dumb ass up.” I yell at her. “We need peace and quiet back here. Miss Daffany’s sleep!”
Miss Tyrone adjusts the rearview mirror and looks back at me, Miss Parade and then Miss Daffany.
“Wayne, just because you three lesbians are sad don’t mean I gots to be too. Hell, if you that sad about leavin’ DC, why you goin’?”
Afterwards he continues to sing to the CD. I look to my left and Miss Daffany is still asleep resting comfortably on my shoulder. But when I look to my right, Miss Parade is lookin’ directly at me with grief in her eyes.
“You’re scaring me. You don’t seem like yourself. What’s wrong, Miss Wayne? What’s going on with you?”
“I’m fine,” I lie holding her hand.
“Be honest. We’re always honest with one another.”
“We’re here!” Miss Tyrone interrupts and I’m happy for the diversion. ‘Cause truth is, I don’t know what’s wrong wit’ me.
When Miss Adrian parks, Miss Tyrone walks outside and grabs one of our bags. Then he hands it to Adrian. Adrian’s cute but as strong as an ox. And then I see somethin’ on her face that bothers me. A bruise.
“Miss Adrian, what happened to your face?”
“It’s nothing. I went to see Chris last night after I left the house and it didn’t end too well,” he says grabbing one of the suitcases and rushing toward the ticketing counter.
When he leaves I quickly ask Miss Tyrone. “What’s going on with Chris? He hittin’ her?”
“Yep. He’s fine when they’re having sex but in the mornin’ he always hits her. You know how it is.”
I shake my head and try to push Miss Adrian’s troubles out of my mind.
While we all move closer to the Ticketing Counter, my heart races and I realize now that I don’t want to go home.
“This why I don’t fly,” Miss Tyrone says looking at the tons of passengers in line. “I can’t stand lines.”
“You don’t fly cause you ain’t never got no money,” I say.
“I use to go places all the time! I just don’t get a chance to go anywhere no more ‘cause I stay busy.”
We wait five minutes in the line and the beat in my heart pounds harder. And then I hear the agent say, “Can I help whose next?”
The three of us approach the agent and she requests our ID’s and ticket information. Miss Tyrone and Miss Adrian stay close behind.
“How many tickets?” the pretty black clerk asks.
“Three,” Miss Parade says as if sayin’ the number aloud will prevent me from stayin’.
“Two tickets.” I correct her. “Just two.”
Miss Daffany turns around, looks at me, smiles and says, “I knew you were staying. And I miss you already but…I understand. I want you to be happy, Miss Wayne. You take care of us so much that you forgot to have a life of your own.”
I hug her tightly.
“Thanks. You don’t know what this means to me. I really don’t want to leave you but I need some time to see what’s holdin’ me back. I’ll probably only stay a few months.”
“Be happy, Miss Wayne. We’ll be okay.”
“What are you guys goin’ to do?” the agent asks irritated. “There are people waiting behind you.”
Miss Daffany hands the agent her identification and I slowly turn to face Miss Parade. She’s angry, her eyes are red and tears fill the wells of her eyes. As the agent works on Daffany’s plane ticket, I try to find the right words to say to deal with her. Right before I address her, my phone rings. I remove it from my pocket and see it’s Jay.
“Hello.”
“Wayne, where’s my fuckin’ wife, nigga!”
“She’s right here.” I say as I hand her the phone.
I’m rescued by Jay’s nagging’ ass! Yes!
Miss Parade holds the phone to her ear briefly and I hear him ask, “Baby, what’s going on?! You can’t be out there like that! You’re due any day now!” Then she allows the phone to drop whilst Jay continues to scream from the handset.
She just looks at me and cries. And I wonder…what does Miss Parade want from me? What does she need?
“Ms., you’re next. Can I have your ID?” The ticket agent says to Miss Parade.
Silence.
She doesn’t move.
“Parade,” Daffany interjects, taking the ID that dangles from her free hand. “We have to go. Miss Wayne, will be home soon.” She hands the ID to the agent. “Let him go. Please…I’ll still be with you.”
“I’m so mad at you,” she mumbles through a clogged nasal passage. “Why? You know I need you. You know I can’t fuckin’ do this by myself! You know I’m not strong enough!”
“Miss Parade, you have to let me go.” I place my hands on her shoulders. “And you have to allow yourself the happiness you deserve. I can’t give those things to you. I can’t. But it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”
“But why?” She says phone still in her hand. “Why right now!”
“Baby, you have a husband who loves you and two beautiful kids. You’ll never be alone again, in your life.”
I know that although Miss Parade dresses fly, she still has a lot of work to do on her soul. She’s t
ormented still…but why?
“Don’t leave!”
“Miss Parade, please calm down.”
“I’m pissed at you, Miss Wayne!”
I stare at her until I feel wetness trickle onto my high heel red Christian Lou pumps.
“Miss Parade, I know you’re pissed at me but this is ridiculous!”
“Oh…oh…no! My water broke! I’m going into labor.” She says holding the bottom of her belly.
“JESUS!” Miss Tyrone screams out.
“Not right here, baby,” I say placing my hands on her shoulder knowing all the while that there was no way to stop nature from taking its course. “That man of yours is goin’ to kill me if you have your baby here.”
“OH, GAWD! OH, GAWD! OH GAWD!” Miss Tyrone screams.
“Girl shut yo big toe ass up and go find me a wheel chair!” I tell him as Miss Parade topples over in pain. “And tell everybody you see we need an ambulance!”
“Does she need any help?” the ticket agent asks. “No but I need two shots of bourbon and a miracle! And yeah…call the ambulance while you at it!”
People are staring and I knew I needed to take her somewhere private. When Miss Tyrone returns with the wheel chair, Miss Parade gladly takes a seat as I push her toward the restroom.
“It’s comin! The baby’s comin!” she cries holding her belly. “I don’t want to have my baby at no airport!”
If you would’ve seen the sight of three gay men, two in high heels, pushin’ a pregnant woman toward the woman’s bathroom in the airport while Daffany helplessly tags along, you still wouldn’t believe your eyes.
When we make it to the restroom I open the door and yell, “EVERYBODY OUT!”
“What…what’s goin’ on?”
“Leave now!” I tell a woman who is in the mirror doing nothin’ that would help the ugliness that is her face disappear. “A BABY IS ON THE WAY!”
“But I don’t understand,” the woman says.
“Bitch, is you deaf?! The girl said everybody out! You beat that face enough and it’s still there! So Go!” Miss Tyrone screams pointin’ to an exit.
When she scurries away, I instruct my friends to take off their shirts and jackets so that we can place them on the floor. And when I realize everything me and my friends are wearin’, outside of Daffany’s sweater, clings to our bodies… I nix that idea. I never delivered a baby but I knew the delivery had to be done by me unless the ambulance hurried.
