Unveiled

by Shataya Simms

  “Oh my goodness. I’m sorry I asked,” I laugh.

  “Hopefully Tarron is a better man than me. I was a knucklehead in my prime, but you know. We’re here to live, fuck shit up and then die,” he chuckles.

  “All men are knuckleheads,” I exhale the smoke.

  Pops and I continue to smoke and listen to his records as he tells me stories about his past. He has made it all the way to Europe, doing the Paris circuit and partied with the likes of B.B. King, Muddy Waters, Miles Davis and other greats. He’s marched with Dr. King, listened to Malcom X talk and even considered joining the Black Panther Party at one point. I am completely enthralled with every single story he tells me; not once bored or wishing that he would shut up.

  Around 6:30, Tron emerges and joins me and Pops on the back porch. Pops and I are totally baked the fuck out. We laugh at Tron for no reason, just acting on the side effects of the weed.

  “Y’all are high as hell,” Tron chuckles, lighting the joint that’s left in the ashtray.

  “You didn’t tell me that Pops was the man,” I giggle, giving Pops a fist bump.

  “Here you go. Always trying to steal someone’s lady,” Tron laughs.

  “Y’all just friends. Ain’t that what you keep telling me?” Pops ask with a wink. Tron laughs and shakes his head.

  “Bubba rides at 7:30-8. We gotta get goin’.”

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “The rodeo. I picked out your clothes already Annabelle. They’re on your bed,” Tron teases.

  “Whatever,” I laugh, rising from my chair. I kiss Pops on the cheek before walking inside to get dressed. I’m wearing a pair of Daisy Dukes, a purple flannel shirt, brown cowboy boots and a straw hat. I roll up the sleeves to the flannel and leave a few of the buttons undone.

  “I look like an idiot,” I laugh, standing in front of the mirror. I step out into the hallway and Tron is standing at the top of the stairs on his phone. He turns to look at me and smiles, wearing blue jeans with a thick belt buckle, black cowboy boots and matching hat. A cotton v-neck t-shirt with a cross hanging around his neck.

  “Howdy, Annabelle,” he tips his hat.

  “You’re not funny, Tarron.”

  We enter the packed arena. I’ve never seen anything like it but it looks exactly how I would have imagined. A bunch of red necks or hillbilly’s or whatever you want to call them with sprinkles of black faces. We walk briskly amongst his cousins, blending in with the crowd.

  “Be back,” Tron says leaving me with Muff and her friend Justine.

  “So, you and Tarron. What happened to Kai?” Justine asks.

  “We’re just friends,” I reply.

  “He don’t know how to be friends with a female. We were just friends too at one point but then he took my virginity in the 9th grade,” Justine laughs.

  “Ewe,” Muff laughs, rolling her eyes.

  “So, you and Tarron have never…?” Justine asks.

  “Nope.”

  “Girl, what are you waiting for? Tarron is…man…that niggah just is,” she giggles.

  “Then why aren’t you wit’ him?” I ask.

  “He don’t want me,” she shrugs. “We’re still friends. Answers my calls when I call, still checks on me every now and then but…I’m just not the one for him,” she says nonchalantly. “I’m at the place where he’s like my brother or something.”

  “Can’t be your brother if you’re willing to screw him again,” Muff chimes in.

  “Truuuueee,” Justine responds. I laugh. “He hasn’t sung to you yet, huh?” She smirks.

  “No. Why?”

  “Whatever you do, if you are trying to play hard to get, just don’t let that niggah sing to ya. Will sing you right out of yo’ panties,” she giggles as I watch Tron walk towards us.

  “Is that what happened to you?” I ask Justine. She just smiles at me as Tron approaches.

  “You good?” He asks, handing me a beer and a corndog.

  “I’m fine. Do you have mustard?”

  “We don’t put mustard on our corndogs,” Justine laughs.

  “Well, I do,” I chuckle as Tron hands me a mustard packet.

  “Come on y’all. Bubba’s up next,” he says as I follow him to our seats.

  Okay, so bull riding? Apparently, it’s a big thing as the crowd cheers and boos. I am following the sport, which is pretty basic to grasp; however, I don’t understand the judges scoring but whatever. I watch Bubba’s, Blair Underwood self, mount the black bull before they release the gate. I’m screaming and cheering as he handles the bull with ease while the bull bucks its legs.

  “GO STEVE,” I yell with his group of fans, laughing at how stupid this sport is, if you can even call it a sport. I make a mental note that I am on my fifth beer, third corn dog, and a whole bunch of other miscellaneous junk. I need to slow down and hit the gym before I gain weight, which I don’t mind gaining, but per my contract for Lena I’m supposed to stay at a size 4.

  After Steve rides the bull, we stay awhile, drinking, eating, listening to country music and wandering around.

  “ANEESAH,” a girl points at me. “TRON,” the same someone yells as people stop in their tracks.

  “Well, it was fun while it lasted,” I laugh.

  “What are you talking about? This is my favorite part,” Tron smiles taking pictures and signing autographs. I follow suite, smiling for the cameras, watching Tron. He has no idea how being in the limelight can take its toll. Without thinking, Tron grabs my hand and I follow him and his cousins out the arena before I realize what is about to come.

  “TARRON?” I yell.

  “What?” His eyes balloon. I guess me screaming his name catches him off guard.

  “You grabbed my hand, stupid.”

  “Huh?”

  “Check social media,” I tell him as he grabs his phone. Low and behold, there we are, holding hands, walking through the crowd.

  @therealheatherb…oh so now the snob is pushing up on @kai.h man? #cougar #oldbitty

  @youngbodyhero…damn. How my man @trongalactic pullin’ all the bad bitches n da game

  @kai.h…me & my boo r still goin’ strong. They’re just makn music 2gether

  @youngbodyhero…@kai.h…ur ass is delusional if u dnt think ya mans is knockin her off. Shit. I would

  @youngbodyhero…@kai.h…shit. if given the chance I’d trade ur azz in for @mynameisaneesah too

  Tron laughs as I read the twitter feeds.

  “Not funny,” I snap.

  “Who cares what people think? Why are you so upset?”

  “I’m not upset, it’s just…”

  “You don’t want to be linked to me.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Come on, Annabelle. We’re going out to celebrate my cousin coming in third place,” Tron says ignoring how I feel and climbing into the truck. We drive to the same juke joint that we went to the day we arrived. When we step into the barn, all eyes quickly fall on us.

  “TARRON,” a woman squeals as a bunch of females stampede over, all trying to get a piece of him.

  “Ladies, ladies,” he smiles. “I know all of y’all,” he laughs, signing women’s breast and taking pictures.

  “Yeah but we know the scrawny kid not the supastar,” one of the girl’s giggle. “Are you going to sing tonight? I miss listening to your sexy voice,” the girl flirts. He whispers something in her ear that makes her beam. I laugh and observe until one of the women notices me and I’m left signing autographs and taking pictures.

  “Ahhh yeah. We got an oldie but goodie in the house. My man Tarron is home, blessing us with his presence,” the DJ says into the mic.

  “AYE MIKE,” Tron yells at him pointing.

  “Play boy,” the DJ yells. “You gonna bless us with a song or a rap.”

  “NEITHER. I’M JUST CHILLIN’ FOR THE NIGHT.”

  “Remember your roots fam but shit. If I had Aneesah on my arm, I’d be chilling too.”

  I laugh, as Tron throws
an arm around me, maneuvering me through the crowd. The place looks nothing like how it did on oldies night. There is a DJ, a karaoke machine, a mechanical bull, darts, pool tables and dance floor.

  “Come on Annabelle. Let me see how you do on the bull,” Tron says handing me a shot.

  “I got this,” I tell him, taking the shot and walking over to the bull. I kick off my boots and hop on, bossing the bull for a good minute before it starts going extremely fast and I fall off. I stand on the mat, laughing hysterically as people take photos and record.

  “Your turn,” I tell Tron.

  “I’m not doing that gay shit,” he laughs.

  “Why you gotta be gay to ride the bull?”

  “Man, that shit looks gay.”

  “Your cousin just rode one.”

  “That’s different. That’s a real animal.”

  “Whatever,” I say shaking my head and grabbing a drink out of Steve’s hands.

  “You better be easy with that,” Steve laughs.

  “Shits strong,” I giggle as I drink out the jar. “What is it?”

  “Moonshine,” Tron and Steve answer together.

  “So, this is the real deal, huh?”

  “Yup, so be easy,” Tron says.

  “I got this,” I tell him. I look out onto the dance floor and watch the people dance, doing some sort of hip-hop square dance that I’m digging.

  “Wanna dance?” Tron asks.

  “Are they square dancing?”

  “Yeah,” he laughs. “Come on, unless you’re too scared that I am going to outshine you.”

  “Niggah please,” I tell him taking a sip out of my jar and sitting it on the table. Tron takes me by my hand as the crowd is steady snapping photos and taking video footage as we join his cousins and others on the floor. Tron moves his feet slowly trying to teach me the moves. I follow his footsteps but every time I catch on, the movement changes.

  “It’s fast movement. You gotta keep up,” he laughs.

  “I’m trying,” I giggle as a crowd forms.

  “Ignore them. Just have fun wit’ it,” he tells me as I move my feet. By the end of the song, I now know how to successfully square dance.

  “Good job, Annabelle,” he smiles.

  “Would you stop calling me that?” I laugh as Steve passes out another round of shots.

  “My baby cousin is in town. We gotta show him a good time,” Steve yells as we hold up our shots. “FOR TARRON,” he shouts as we all throw our drinks back.

  When Sam The Beast’s “Knock Some Boots” starts to blast out the speakers, the crowd goes off.

  “What y’all kids know about this?” I laugh as Tron pulls me close to his body and we start to dance.

  “Ain’t no kids up in here,” he whispers in my ear.

  I laugh, drink and am having so much fun, feeling like a carefree teenager when life was simple, and my name and face didn’t mean anything.

  We push through the crowd and join all the cousins and Justine at the tables where the karaoke is.

  “We own this section,” Cousin Roberta says, handing me a drink.

  “How so?” I ask, sipping out of the jar.

  “Nobody can mess with us on a singing level,” she smiles as I listen to Muff sing Xscape’s “Who Can I Run To” sounding super talented.

  “So, y’all all can sing?” I ask Roberta.

  “Yeah, well most of us. The talent skipped some,” she giggles, looking over at Cousin Tim.

  “And Tron can really sing?”

  “You’re about to find out,” she nods her head towards the stage. I sip my drink and bounce in the chair, waiting for this little show to start; waiting to see what this little niggah is made of.

  “YEAH TARRON,” the crowd shouts as they gather around.

  “Oh shit. They’re about to blow,” the DJ says, turning off the house music.

  “Y’all crazy,” Tron chuckles. “Come on fellas. Let’s show ‘em how we do,” Tron yells into his mic as Steve and four other cousins jump up on stage. Girls start to scream and flock towards them, tripping over each other and fighting for a seat.

  The music starts, and Steve begins to sing the first verse of the old school classic but the Dru Hill rendition of “The Love We Had”. I continue to sip my drink, getting lost in Steve’s sultry voice. These niggahs are really harmonizing up there like an old school 90’s boy group. I am in shock and impressed like fuck. Shit. Steve’s goofy ass can blow. I am totally mesmerized as he serenades a female; jealous to the point that I am actually thinking about throwing my panties up on stage or at least a few ones. I can’t even shut my fuckin’ mouth. I am so into it that the straw from my drink is just sitting on my tongue.

  “GO BUBBA,” I scream, sounding like a damn groupie. I hadn’t noticed that Tron and the rest of the cousins had jumped off the stage and are now standing next to me. I hear this voice come over the speakers, taking over the show, hypnotizing the audience just like how badass Eddie Kane’s character did in the film The Five Heartbeats.

  But early this mornin’… when I opened up my eyes

  That old lonesome feelin’… took me by surprise

  I guess, you meant more to me…than I realized

  Cuz…the love we had stays on my mind…

  Tron holds the note while gently placing his hand on my left cheek, serenading me with this voice…his voice…as my jaw drops further into my lap. His voice has me under this weird hypnotic spell and I am putty, straight mush. I mean, I’m doing exactly what home girl did in The Five Heartbeats movie. I melt in my fuckin’ chair, crossing my legs and start squirming like an idiot. I don’t even hear whack ass Steve anymore because I am face to face with Tron, as he tucks in his bottom lip between his teeth, grabbing me by the hand and winks.

  But why should I tell you? It’s not your concern

  You win some, you lose some, I’ve lost and I’ve learned

  It’s just that I’m so lonely with no place to turn

  And here, here, here…O, O, O

  He sings, grabbing ahold of my hand and putting my finger into his mouth, seductively sucking on it. I lose my shit. It is taking everything in me to not pounce on this niggah’s dick right now.

  “Did I sing you out of your panties?” He whispers in my ear as the other cousins are steady harmonizing.

  “Uh-huh,” I voice, probably looking like a love-struck idiot.

  “You really want this dick or nah?” He smirks. “You gotta beg for it first,” he whispers in my face, lips lightly brushing against mine, smelling the alcohol on his breathe before he stands and walks back up on stage, leaving me speechless and dripping wet.

  “See. Told ya,” Justine giggles.

  When they finish the song, I watch all the girls fawn over them, damn near fighting each other for their attention. I watch them collect numbers and pose for photos, wondering why they didn’t choose the whole R&B boy group because God knows that they certainly have the talent and the looks to make it.

  We stay for about another hour, dancing, drinking and laughing. This damn Moonshine got us nice as Tron and I playfully flirt for the remainder of the night. He doesn’t know it yet but I’m about to be all up on ‘em.

  When the juke joint finally closes, Tron and I head back to his house, listening to the radio quietly and sharing a joint on the ride home.

  “Did you have fun?” He asks.

  “I did. You know, you don’t have to ask me that every night. If I wasn’t having fun, I would have left by now,” I laugh.

  “I’m just trying to be a courteous host,” he smiles.

  “So, that voice,” I start as Tron smirks. “What the hell, Tarron? You have to do something with that voice. At least sing a few hooks on your own tracks. Tarron, why are you not capitalizing on it?” I ask in much excitement.

  He shrugs his shoulders.

  “I’m comfortable where I’m at,” he answers, passing me the joint.

  We make it back to the house and walk to the abandoned truck, c
limbing in. I’m lying on my back, looking up at the stars listening to Miguel’s “Adorn” play on Pandora as Tron rolls up a blunt. I sit up to take a sip of the Moonshine that Tron smuggled out of the juke joint. Tron lights the blunt and inhales before passing it to me as I pass him the jar.

  “I think this is my favorite part of this week so far,” I confess, exhaling the smoke.

  “What is?” He asks, sipping out of the jar.

  “Our nightly recap here in the truck,” I giggle, lying back. Tron lays down next to me.

  “I’m glad you’re having a good time, Annabelle,” he smirks.

  “Shut-up,” I playfully hit him in the arm. We lie in silence, listening to music and passing the blunt back and forth.

  “You’re my…baby, my lover, my lady…all night…you make me want you, it drives me crazy,” Tron sings Musiq’s “So Beautiful” while staring at me. “I feel…like you were made just for me, babe…tell me…if you…feel the same way,” he sings hitting the falsetto better than Musiq himself. “Cause it just feels so right,” he says, putting his hand up to my cheek. “I don’t wanna waste no time,” his lips brushes against mine. “If I had to choose, I know I’m gon’ always choose to be with you cause girl, don’t you know…” he sings into my mouth as I lean all the way in to kiss him, our tongues dancing in a rhythm that I haven’t felt in a long time. This feels right…perfect, like I am under this nostalgia trance of pure bliss. My body is on fire as our mouths linger, exploring each other’s lips and tongues.

  “Let’s go, Annabelle,” Tron says breaking out of our kiss. He stands from the truck, holding out his hand to help me up. We walk inside the house and Tron walks me to my door.

  “Well, good night,” he says kissing my cheek, turning to walk away.

  “Tarron, don’t leave,” I smile pulling him to me.

  “Then beg me to stay,” he whispers in my ear.

  I pull him inside the room and kiss him with the same amount of passion that we shared a few moments ago outside. He lies me gently down on the bed and climbs in between my legs, staring into my eyes.

  “Cause girl don’t you know…you’re so beautiful,” he whispers in my ear before sealing a kiss on my lobe, gliding his tongue down my neck and french kisses my collar bone. With his hand, he unbuttons my shorts, sliding his hand down inside my panties. His fingers massage my wetness as he toys with my clit. I let out a heavy breath, fire coursing through my veins as I unbuckle his belt. Tron slowly unbuttons my shirt while planting sweet kisses down my chest and in between my breast. Unhooking my bra, my breasts spill out as he smiles brightly before flicking his tongue at my pierced nipples and digging inside my pussy with his fingers.