“It was my pleasure little lady,” he says, tipping his hat before walking back onto the stage to finish his set with his band. They are bringing the house down with their old asses as people jump on the dance floor.
“Come on,” Tron says holding his hand out. I grab ahold of his hand as we make our way out to the floor, having a ball. Tron’s little ass knows how to dance too…I mean, really dance…the type of dance that makes you question, How’s the stroke game though?
By the time the juke joint closes, I’m sweaty, my hair is all over the place, I’m a little tipsy and my feet hurt from all the dancing I did.
“Did you have fun chilling with my Pops and his old ass friends?” Tron asks on the drive back to the farm.
“I did have fun,” I cheese.
“Oh, so you like chillin’ wit’ us common folks?”
“Hush-up.”
“And don’t be trying to sneak off in my Pop’s room later on tonight either,” he teases.
“Shut up, although, your Pop-Pop can get it,” I laugh.
“Yo, I will crash this car into a tree right now. Don’t play,” he laughs.
“Nah but for real, you and your granddad are one in the same. Y’all act just alike; even at his old age. He’s way cooler and smoother than you though,” I giggle. He playfully nudges my arm. We pull up to the house.
“I’m about to smoke a little somethin’,” he informs me.
“Not without me,” I smile, following him out back. Tron grabs a quilt that is hanging up on the banister by the barn and I follow him to an old gray, beat up pick-up truck that is parked or more like it’s run down in the middle of the field. We climb inside the bed of the truck and Tron spreads the quilt out. He lies down, stretches out and lights the blunt. I lie down next to him, staring up at the stars that are so crystal clear in the sky. Something that you really don’t get a chance to see and enjoy back home. Tron passes me the blunt.
“This has got to be the best view ever,” I tell him, inhaling the smoke, looking up at the stars.
“Yeah. I used to spend hours out here smoking and thinking.”
“Thinking about?” I question.
“Life. Who I am. What I want to do. Everything,” he replies as I pass him the blunt.
“Are you living your dreams?”
He turns his head to look at me.
“I am,” he answers, gazing into my eyes. He smiles before blowing smoke into my face and passing me the blunt.
“Is it everything you hoped for?” I ask.
“What?”
“The fame. You’re just now tapping into it.”
“It’s cool but I get tired of faking the funk like a niggah can’t have a bad day or some shit. I appreciate those who are riding out with me though.”
“Yeah. I hate having to always wear a smile and mothafucka’s always up in my business. Like, what the fuck? I’m a person too and I like my privacy.”
“Shit that annoys me with dating Kai.”
“What’s the deal with you two? I heard her tell you that she loves you.”
“She’s cool.”
“That’s all you gotta say?”
“I mean, I like her but not all like that. I just want to date her without it being a big fuckin’ deal.”
“Welcome to fame. Your personal life is no longer your own. We don’t get to have bad days and slip ups.”
“Fuck all that. Like Pops says, we are here to live, fuck shit up, and then die,” he laughs.
“Where did the name Tron come from? Nobody here calls you that. Did you just make it up?” I ask. He starts to laugh while hitting the blunt.
“What?” I ask.
“Tron is the name I would use when I was out there being a dirt bag,” he chuckles. “It’s the name I gave females when I didn’t want them to know me for real. It’s the name I gave my hit and run missions.”
“When?” I ask. “Niggah, you still is a dirt bag,” I giggle.
“I’m not as bad as I use to be. Me and Bubba, we use to pull all the females,” he laughs.
“Bubba?” I question.
“You seen the photos. Bubba can sing, and his ass is this big-time bull rider so women flock.”
“I’m tired of hearing about you being able to sing. Let me hear.”
“Nah. Only special people are privy to that.”
“So, I’m not special enough?”
He laughs.
“Okay. What can’t you do? You can allegedly sing, rap, compose and produce your own music. You can dance, apparently cook—basing that on the steak-umms you hooked up for us that one time. You’re smart, you’re funny, your breath don’t stink and you know…you’re kind of cute. So, what’s your hang-up? You gotta little dick, don’t you?”
He burst out laughing, choking on the smoke.
“I guess there’s only one way that you’re ever gonna find out,” he smirks.
“Well, I guess it’s like a tootsie roll pop. I will never know.”
“Why? I’m willing to see how many licks it takes for me to get to your center though,” he chuckles.
“You are such a fool,” I laugh.
He smiles at me seductively, passes me the blunt and stretches out his arms, plopping one above my head.
“Is that your move, Casanova?” I giggle, putting out the blunt and lifting my head to lay on my side to face him, using his arm as a pillow.
“If I made a move on you, you would know it,” he smirks, staring into my eyes. He moves in closer to my face. I can feel his breath on my skin as he gently places his hand on the side of my face, pulling me closer.
“We can’t,” I whisper.
“Why?” He asks as his lips gently brush against mine causing electricity to vibrate through my body. I pull away.
“Because you have a girlfriend,” I remind him.
“She’s not my girlfriend. She is some girl that I am just kicking it with for the time being.”
“The time being, huh?”
“Yeah, the time being. If it bothers you, I will call her right now and tell her that I no longer have any interests in her.”
“Your relationship with her doesn’t bother me,” I admit.
“Then what is it?” He asks, staring at me. “Ah, you have a problem with my age?” He says when I don’t answer. He quickly gets on top of me and stares in my face.
“I promise I won’t touch you until you beg me to and I do mean beg,” he whispers, lips gently brushing against my lips causing me to shudder.
“I never beg,” I whisper back.
“You’ll beg for me. You’ll see,” he says lifting up and lying on his back. He reaches over, grabs the blunt and lights it back up. I uncomfortably lie here, trying not to squirm, trying to stop the pulsating sensation in between my legs. I didn’t think to bring any “toys” on this trip which means somehow, I am going to have to bust a nut using my fingers later.
“Why you so quiet all of a sudden?” He asks, passing me the blunt.
“No reason. I’m tired. I think I’m going to go ahead to bed,” I tell him sitting up. He sits up too and stands, holding out his hand to help me up.
“Thanks,” I tell him as we jump off the truck. We walk back to the house in silence and Tron walks me to my room.
“Goodnight, Annabelle,” he chuckles. “Let me know if you need anything,” he says before walking up the hall to his room. I walk inside my room, strip out of my clothes and collapse on the bed.
“This is going to be a long ass weekend,” I exhale, opening my legs and moving my panties to the side. I am wet. I mean, extremely wet as I close my eyes and envision Tron touching all over my body.
“Snap the fuck out of it.” I pluck my fingers out of my wetness and close my eyes, hoping that sleep finds me soon.
The next morning, I join Tron and Pops at the kitchen table.
“Good morning,” I greet.
“Good morning,” Pops face lights up. “Would you like some coffee?”
“No
thank you. I’m a tea girl,” I smile.
“Ahhh. So, what are your plans today?” He asks spreading jelly on his toast.
“I don’t know. Whatever this one has in mind,” I reply eyeing Tron.
“I don’t know, Pops. We’re wingin’ it.”
“As long as you feed the pigs and the chickens, hoe the yard and check on Charlotte first. She’s due any minute.”
“Come on, Pops. I’m a celebrity now. I shouldn’t have to live like this,” Tron chuckles.
“Celebrity my ass. Remember where you came from, son.”
“Always.”
After breakfast, Tron and I retreat to the kitchen to wash the dishes.
“You gonna help me feed the pigs and stuff?” He asks, handing me a plate to dry.
“It’s like TV, right? I just throw the food in the slop bucket and they eat?”
Tron laughs.
“Something like that. Go throw on something raggedy. I’ll meet you out back.”
I run upstairs and throw on a pair of shorts, a tank and some sneakers before racing outside to meet up with Tron. When I reach the barn, Tron is sitting on a tractor shirtless in a pair of ball shorts and a straw cowboy hat. He even has the nerve to be chewing on a piece of hay. I giggle.
“What?”
“If this ain’t some stereotypical country shit right here. You look just like a farm boy,” I laugh.
“Shut up, Annabelle, and get on,” he chuckles, holding his hand out. I climb up on the tractor, sitting behind him as he drives through the fields.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
“Hoeing the ground?”
“Why?”
Tron explains to me all about farming and tending to crops. It may sound boring, but I’m actually intrigued. I’m finding this quite interesting as I learn another way of life.
It’s hot as shit out here with the sun blazing down on us. When we finally finish hoeing the grounds, Tron drives us back to the barn. I hop off the tractor and take the jug of water out of his hands.
“I feel real country now,” I laugh, imitating a country accent before taking a gulp out the gallon of ice water.
“You’re so damn silly,” he laughs.
“It’s soooo hot,” I whine.
“A few more chores and then we’re done.”
“But…” I whine and complain, wiping the sweat off my brow.
“Come on. It won’t be so bad.”
So here I am, helping Tron milk fucking cows; which is gross as hell by the way, feed the chickens and pluck eggs out of their little nests.
“Having fun yet?” He laughs as we are walking over to the horse stable.
“It’s hotttt,” I whine again, dragging my feet. We enter the stable and Tron immediately walks over to a beautiful black mare horse with a white patch on its forehead and muzzle.
“Hey girl,” he smiles at her as the horse affectionately gravitates towards him. I watch him interact with the horse and smile.
“Aneesah, this is my girl Charlotte,” he says, introducing us. I laugh.
“Hi Charlotte,” I giggle, not believing that I am talking to a damn horse.
“Hand me that brush over there please,” he says to me pointing. I hand him the brush and watch him brush her shiny mane with care. Something about the way he’s handling her with so much love and care is turning me on.
“There you go black beauty,” he says kissing her snout. “And stop being a hoe. Heard you was pregnant again,” Tron says. I start to laugh because the horse actually put her head down in shame.
“You gonna help me shovel this?” He asks pointing at the globs of horse poop around the stable.
“Hell no. This is where I draw the line,” I reply with much attitude. He rolls his eyes and starts to shovel up the poop. I sit on a log, fanning myself with my hands as I watch his body maneuver around the barn, picking up shit and feeding the horses.
“Are we done yet?” I whine as we walk out the stable.
“Almost,” he laughs. “Just gotta feed the pigs.” We walk over to the pigs and Tron hands me a bucket of slop. I frown my face and follow him inside the gate.
“Now what?” I ask.
“BEUFORD,” he yells. “Brace yaself. Beuford gets excited when he’s about to eat.”
“Huh?” I question as this big ass pig, hog, wildebeest, I don’t know what the fuck it is comes around the corner charging towards me.
“What the fuck?” I yell running in the opposite direction as this animal chases me. Tron is hysterically laughing in the background. I drop the bucket and continue to run and scream until I fall face forward in a pile of mud. I’m all dirty now, mud in my mouth and hair; wanting to cry. Tron catches up to me laughing while holding his stomach.
“Shit,” he laughs. “Shit. You a’ight,” he chuckles, bubbling over in laughter as I sit in the dirt, spitting the mud out of my mouth. I gather some of the mud in my hands and throw it at Tron, hitting him right in his face. The motherfucker stops laughing.
“You asshole,” he says, wiping his face. I stand up from the ground, covered in mud and walk towards the house.
“Why you mad at me?” Tron asks running behind me.
“Because you knew that beast was gonna chase me,” I huff.
“The shit was funny. Come on Aneesah. Admit that shit was funny.” I fling some of the mud at him.
“Come here,” he says grabbing my hand.
“No,” I snap, snatching my hand away.
“Just come here,” he says, walking off. I follow him through the bushes and down to a lake.
“Fresh water,” he says jumping in with all his clothes on. I’m hot and I’m dirty so without hesitation I jump in behind him.
“Feels good, right?” He asks swimming around me.
“I’m not talking to you,” I reply, sticking my tongue out. He smirks at me before jumping out. He walks over to a tree, takes off his shorts and sneakers and is standing in just a pair of boxers. I tilt my head slightly to try to see if he’s working with anything special down below.
“If you want to see it, just ask,” he smiles.
“Boy, ain’t nobody thinking about you,” I yell, swimming over to get out.
“Take your clothes off,” he says.
“What? No.”
“Just take your clothes off. I want to show you something.”
“It better not be your dick,” I say as he laughs. I kick my sneakers off, take my shirt off and pull my shorts down; standing in my coral colored cotton bikini-style panties and gray cotton bra.
“I like your tattoos. You should let me give you one,” he says, admiring my body.
“So, you’re a tattoo artist too?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he smiles. “I’m a jack of all trades. Anything artistic I can do,” he winks.
“Whatever,” I mumble. He holds out his hand and I follow him up a hill. We come to a tree and Tron removes a rope hanging from it.
“Me and my cousins used to spend hours out here,” he says putting his foot in the bottom loop of the rope. “Hope you have heart,” he says before taking a step back and running, jumping up on the rope and swinging over the water before letting go, making a healthy splash in the lake below.
“Okay. I do this every night damn near,” I say to myself thinking about the fall I take from the ceiling, down to the audience during my show. I grab on to the rope and follow suite. The cold water hits me hard, but I laugh hysterically at how much fun that was.
“Wanna go higher?” Tron asks pointing up at a cliff that’s probably 20 feet off the ground.
“No.”
“Chicken?”
“You’re really trying to peer pressure me by calling me a chicken, dork?” I laugh.
“TARRONNIE, RON,” somebody yells from a distance.
“Who is that?” I ask.
“My cousins are here,” he laughs.
“I’m in my underwear,” I whisper.
“It’s cool. They’re about to be in the
irs too,” he says swimming away from me. I watch Tron hop out the lake and greet about 20 people, a mix of men and women.
“Aneesah, get out,” Tron says motioning me over. “I am in my fuckin’ underwear” is what I want to snap out at him, but I just suck in my breath and climb out.
“Wow. Aneesah,” a bunch of females come up to me, grabbing me.
“Damn y’all. Let her go,” Tron says.
“Shut up, boy,” one of the girls says. “I’m Tara. Tarron’s cousin. I am so excited to be meeting you,” she says in her country accent. I smile as she goes down the list of cousins and some of their significant others.
Once the formalities are over, Tron was right about everyone being in their underwear to swim. What I love, is that some of these country women, with their baby making hips and little stomach pouches seem not to care. I love when a woman is comfortable in her skin, embracing her flaws not caring what societies definition of beautiful is.
“Are you having a good time so far?” Steve asks, handing me a beer. He is dripping wet in his gray boxer briefs and has a nerve to be still wearing a cowboy hat and chewing on a damn toothpick.
“I’m having a great time,” I laugh, taking the beer out of his hands.
“Good. Tomorrow is the rodeo. I hope you and Tarron can make it and watch me ride the bull.”
“Of course, we’re coming. Wouldn’t miss it for the world, bruh,” Tron smiles dripping wet and throwing an arm over Steve. I watch a group of people cliff dive.
“I’m ready now,” I tell Tron pointing up at the cliff. He smiles, grabs my hand and escorts me.
I spend my whole afternoon swimming, drinking, and listening to Tron’s cousins chop him up by telling embarrassing childhood stories about him.
“We caught fish,” Steve says holding up this monster fish.
“Bubba always catching some big ass fish. Start a fire so we can have supper,” Cousin Al says.
They start a nice little camp fire as I watch the men gut the fish while the girls talk to me about how my life is being a celebrity.
“You know, your cousin is a celebrity now too?” I laugh.
“Yeah but he don’t count. We’ve known him since he used to pee the bed,” Cousin Muffin giggles.
“Shut up, Muff. At least I didn’t get stuck in a tire swing,” Tron laughs.
“Shut up, Tarron. I couldn’t help that I was a little pudgy in my younger years.”
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