Just Make Him Beautiful

by Warren, Mike

  “Why you bring me here, Cam?” Robin folded her arms. “You know they not gonna let us in because of our age. Humph!”

  “You don’t know. We might get lucky, and maybe they’ll let us in.” I looked at all the children going inside with their fierce outfits on.

  “Hey, I saw this movie one time where this young brotha slipped the bouncer some money to let him in the club. Maybe we can do the same thing.” Robin looked in her purse and counted all the money she had.

  “How much you think we need to pay him?” I asked, pulling my money outta my pants pocket.

  “I don’t know. How much do you have?”

  “One fifty. You?”

  “Almost eighty.” Robin gave me all her money.

  “That’s two hundred thirty dollars. I’m not giving him all this just to get in the club, girl. Hell, I’d suck his dick first before I give him all this.” I waved the money in her face, laughing at my own joke.

  “Hmm…we’d make out better if you just give him the money, if you ask me.”

  “Chile boo, you ain’t even funny. Let’s go,” I said, getting out of the car.

  We approached the bouncer, a huge white dude that stood about six four, with tattoos going up one side of his arm and down to the other.

  “Now, where are you two going?” he asked.

  Robin stuttered, “Ah-ah-ah…”

  “Oooo, Robin, isn’t he a fine specimen of a man?” I rubbed my hand up and down his muscled arm, and trying to flatter this big ol’ Olga. “We just tryin’-a have a li’l bit of fun, daddy.” I was smiling at him from ear to ear as I slipped him a crisp fifty-dollar bill.

  Mr. Bouncer took the money, smiled at me, and held the door open for us as we entered.

  “See, bitch? That’s how it’s done,” I said, snapping my fingers.

  “You punks sure do stick together, hmm.”

  “Don’t hate, Ms. Thang. You know you love us.”

  We laughed as we strolled in and walked over to the dance floor.

  I didn’t know about Robin, but I stood there in awe as I watched men dance with men and women dance with women. This was the first time I had ever seen people just being themselves and having a good time. And even though this was a primarily white club, there were several brothas and sistas scattered amongst the crowd.

  Robin yelled over the loud music that was bumping, “I need to go to the bathroom, Cam. Can you come with me?”

  “Chile boo, I ain’t following you to no bathroom. Don’t be scared. Go ahead.”

  “Humph, fine then.”

  Robin went through the crowd, searching for the restroom.

  With the music pumping, and lights flashing, I was getting sucked right into all the excitement that filled the room. The children were hollering and shouting and moving to the beat. Or at least my brothas and sistas were, considering we’re the ones with all the rhythm.

  The music sounded so good to my ears, I couldn’t help but join in on the fun. I started dancing right where I stood.

  Voguing from one side of the room to the other, I suddenly stood in my tracks when I noticed this fine brotha on the other side of the dance floor, just standing there, drinking his beer.

  Wow! Was it who I really thought it was? Naw, it can’t be, I thought.

  “Thanks for nothing, punk,” Robin shouted in my ear.

  “Oh, girl, please, get over it.” I yelled back, still staring at the brotha.

  “Ms. Thang.” Robin hit me on my shoulder. “Who you staring at?”

  “You see that brotha over there with the wifebeater on and jeans, drinking his beer?”

  “Oh my God! That ain’t who I think it is, is it?” She again hit me on the shoulder.

  “Bitch, if you hit me one more time.” I turned around and faced her, my hands on my hips.

  “Oh, stop being a baby,” she scuffed, waving her hand at me. “But, for real though, is that who I think it is?”

  “Mr. Jamison is the flesh.”

  Robin squealed, “Oooo, I knew he was gay. I just knew it, especially when he started teaching gym.”

  “Oh, girl, hush. You didn’t know nothing.”

  “So.”

  “So what?”

  “Aren’t you going over and speak to him?”

  “Chile, I don’t know. What am I supposed to say?”

  “Say hello, silly.”

  “And then what?”

  “Oooo, you better think of something quick because he must have noticed you staring at him. And he’s on his way over here. Bye!” she said, walking away.

  “Robin, come back here.” I turned to grab her arm, but it was too late. She had already disappeared into the crowd.

  “Hey, little man. How you doing this evening?” I heard him ask.

  “I-I-I-I’m good.” I almost tripped over my own feet as I turned around.

  “Whoa! You okay?”

  “Yeah, I am. Sorry about that. I think maybe I’ve had a little too much to drink,” I said, lying through my teeth.

  “Oh, I see. You know, I might be wrong, but I noticed you when you first walked in, and I haven’t seen you drink anything as of yet. Am I wrong?”

  I don’t know what it was about this man, but he still made me weak in the knees. And, honey, I hadn’t seen this man in over three years, and I was getting goose bumps.

  “Hello? Am I wrong?”

  “I’m sorry. No, you’re not wrong.” I stared into his beautiful bedroom eyes.

  “I’m Keith, by the way,” he stated as he extended his hand to shake mine.

  I shook his hand in return. “I’m Cam.” I realized he didn’t have a clue as to who I was.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Cam. Ah, you’re kinda young. You mind if I ask how old you are?”

  I answered with a slight attitude, “I’m twenty-two. How old are you?”

  “I’m thirty-two.” He looked as though he didn’t believe me, taking a closer look at my facial features.

  “What’s wrong? Do I have something on my face or something?”

  “Yeah, you do, as a matter of fact.”

  “And what’s that?” I brushed the braids out of my face, trying to look grown up.

  “Youth and familiarity,” he said with a smile.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I said, folding my arms.

  “Hey, let’s go over on the other side where we can sit down and talk, where it’s not so loud. You game?”He held his hand out, allowing me to lead the way.

  I didn’t know where I was going, but I followed the crowd going in the direction Robin and I had entered. I looked for her as I continued to walk and noticed that she was on the dance floor dancing with some sissy. She’s such a fag-hag, I thought to myself. I gave her a thumbs-up to let her know I was okay, and she returned the gesture.

  We made our way over to the other side of the club, where it was more secluded and less noisy.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Mr. Jamison asked, before taking a seat at a booth.

  “Ah, I’ll have whatever you’re having,” I replied, not really knowing what to ask for.

  “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

  I sat there thinking how sexy Mr. Jamison looked in his wifebeater and loose-fitting jeans that hung off his firm melon-shaped booty. Chile, I was so moist between my legs. I couldn’t believe that I was actually spending time with a man that I had dreamed about so many times in my past.

  It’s interesting how, once you stop thinking about someone, they seem to pop up out of nowhere. Just like I had stopped thinking about Junior, and out of nowhere, he showed up at my prom. Now, here I sat spending time with Mr. Jamison. Ain’t that a trip? And, honey, I was gonna enjoy every minute of it.

  I remembered that day back in gym class when he was showing us how to swim and he grabbed me around my waist to keep me from drowning. My little fourteen-year-old body rubbed up against his hard manly body, and I thought I was gonna faint. Be still, my racing heart. Then, suddenly, it dawned on
me that Mr. Jamison didn’t even remember who I was. And, for some reason, that saddened me.

  “Hope I wasn’t gone too long, Cam.” Mr. Jamison handed me a Corona with a slice of lime on top.

  “Naw, not at all.” I took a sip of my Corona, still trying to act grown up.

  “That’s good because you are way too sexy-looking to be left alone too long, and I didn’t want to have to fight somebody to get them away from you.” Keith looked at me as though he could eat me alive.

  “Wow!” I turned to face him. “Keith, that was really nice of you to say, but you don’t even remember who I am. Why is that?”

  “Who said I didn’t remember you?” he said, looking dead in my eyes.

  “So who am I?”

  “You’re Cameron Wilson, from my seventh-grade math class a few years ago. And I know you can’t be no older than eighteen. So, how did you get in here?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

  I was so shocked that he remembered who I was, my mouth practically dropped to the floor. I felt so stupid, trying to act so grown up, and he knew all along I was just putting on a show. Something inside of me just wanted to get up and leave, but another side of me wanted him to hold me tight and kiss me like I’d never been kissed before.

  Out of nowhere, I asked, “Can I kiss you?” Before he had a chance to answer, I literarily threw myself at him and kissed him dead in the mouth.

  “Whoa!” he said, pulling away. “Cameron, slow yo’ roll, shawty.”

  “I-I-I-I’m sorry, Mr. Jamison…I mean Keith. I’ve just always wanted to do that since the day I walked into your classroom,” I answered softly, ashamed at being rejected.

  In the back of my mind though, all I could think about was how juicy his lips were. God had answered prayer, because Mr. Jamison was beautiful.

  “I’m flattered, Cameron, I really am, but you’re a little too young for me. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve grown into a very attractive shawty, but I’m not into minors.”

  “But I’ll be eighteen in a few months,” I whined.

  “I tell you what, here’s my card. Give me a call if you ever just want to talk or need help getting into a good university.” Keith handed me his card and walked away.

  After getting my thoughts together and figuring out how I was gonna make Mr. Jamison my man, I went to the other side of the club to check on my girl Robin. And, just as I thought, she was surrounded by so many queens, and the music was so loud, I couldn’t get her attention to let her know I was ready to leave.

  I stood around the dance floor and noticed Mr. Jamison bumping and grinding with some little white queen. Chile, no, that bitch wasn’t gonna take my man. I became so furious, I strutted right out on the dance floor and got in between Mr. Jamison and her. So, as I did the bump and grind with Mr. Jamison, he didn’t seem to care what was going on, because he was so into the music and obviously had a little too much to drink, that he continued to bump and grind along with me.

  Fortunately, Ms. Thang got the message and stomped off the dance floor. This was fine by me because Mr. Jamison and I danced like we were the only two on the dance floor.

  His manhood was so big and hard as I felt it pressed against my crotch while we continued to bump and grind to the music, I thought I was in heaven. Mr. Jamison held on to my small waist, looked me in my eyes, and licked his lips like LL Cool J. Honey, that was all it took.

  I leaned in and kissed him once again. And this time, he suddenly stopped dancing and pulled my face away from his with the palm of his hands. He looked at me strangely at first and then said something that I didn’t hear because the music was so loud. He then pulled me into him and kissed me so passionately that, in my mind, everything froze in time…the music, the flashing lights, people on the dance floor, and more importantly, my heart.

  Our moment in time came to an end when the club lights began to flash on and off and the DJ announced, “Last call.”

  “Ah dayuuuum, shawwwwty! I didn’t mean to do dat,” Mr. Jamison slurred. He pulled away from me and began stumbling off the dance floor.

  I wanted to run after him and beg him to be with me, but that would’ve made me look like a desperate, immature, little queen. I thought the best thing for me to do was to wait a few days, call him and let him know I needed some serious help.

  “Chile, that man don’t know what he’s in for,” I said to myself, searching the crowd for Ms. Fag-hag.

  Moments later, I saw Robin outside talking to a group of queens standing in the parking lot. “Robin, are you ready to go?” I asked, as I stood in front of her and her new friends.

  “Heeeey, Cam, le-le-let me in-introduce you to my friends.”

  “Chile boo, your ass is drunk.” I grabbed her by the waist. “I’m gonna take you home so you can sleep that shit off.”

  “Bye, y’all. I-I guess it-it time ta-ta go, huh.”

  “Yes, it is, my lil fag-hag,” I replied, walking her to the car.

  By the time we got on the highway, Ms. Fag-hag was out like a light. I turned on the radio to keep me company. I thought about Mr. Jamison taking me in his arms and passionately kissing me. Be still, my nerves. Lawd have mercy, Jesus. I was determined to have that man if that was the last thing I did.

  I pulled up in front of Robin’s house thirty or so minutes later and parked. I helped her out of the car, but she was still half-’sleep and drunk as a skunk, as Mother would say. Fortunately, her mom was peeking out the window as we got to the door.

  Auntie opened the door. “Cam, what’s wrong with my baby? Is she all right?”

  “She’s okay, Auntie. Just had one too many to drink,” I replied, helping Robin inside.

  “For heaven sakes, Cam, why you let her drink so much? You know you’re not supposed to drink and drive, baby.” Auntie started to help me take Robin upstairs to her bedroom.

  “Auntie, calm down. I wasn’t drinking, just Robin.”

  She looked up at the ceiling.“Lawd, what am I gonna do with this chile?”

  “Auntie, Robin will be fine. Just let her sleep it off.”

  *

  By the time I made it home, it was a little after three a.m. As I pulled up into the driveway, all the lights were out, except for a dim light coming from the basement.

  I entered thinking, maybe I should get my dad to come check and see what was going on in the basement, but then if it was nothing, he might be upset because I had awakened him. Especially since he had to be at work and open up his store by seven a.m.

  I crept into the kitchen and grabbed one of Mom’s big ol’ wooden cooking spoons, tiptoed to the basement door, and quietly turned the doorknob and cracked the door open. I stood at the top of the stairs to see if I could hear any noise, but all I could make out was mumbling sounds.

  I eased down the stairs, taking one step at a time. Even though I couldn’t see what was happening, I could hear what was being said.

  “Ah, suck that dick like you want it, old man,” a voice whispered.

  Old man? What the fuck? The closer I got to the bottom of the stairs, I realized the slurping sounds, and moaning and groaning were coming from the back of the basement.

  I tiptoed around the staircase and stood in the entrance before going into the back part of the basement, and honey, what I saw almost made me throw up. My new daddy was on his knees, sucking this guy’s dick. Chile, I didn’t know what to do. I stood there practically in shock, trying to make out who the guy was, but I couldn’t. The guy was sitting in a chair with his back towards me, but I could see my new daddy as clear as day, bobbing his head up and down, gagging on this dude’s dick.

  “Come on, old man, suck J.R.’s dick like you mean it,” the guy said, breathing heavily.

  I couldn’t make out the voice, but just as I was about to tiptoe back upstairs, I turned around and hit my pinky toe on the leg of a chair that Momma had sitting right by the entrance. “Ouch, shit!” I grabbed my foot.

  I heard my stepfather say, “Who’s that?”

  Ch
ile, at that point, I took off hobbling upstairs as fast as I could. I jumped in my bed and pulled the covers over me as though I had been asleep, just in case my daddy came in.

  Within minutes, he opened my door. “Cameron,” he whispered.

  I lay perfectly still as my pinky toe continued to throb.

  He came in and sat on the side of my bed.

  Oh shit!

  “Cameron, I know it was you, so stop playing possum,” he said in a whisper.

  Again, I said nothing.

  “Look, faggot, if you keep acting like you’re ’sleep, I will beat your ass,” he said angrily.

  “Yes, sir,” I responded, like a little kid.

  “If you repeat any of what you just saw to anybody, I will kill you and your sister.”

  With that, he rose from my bed and made his exit, leaving me to wonder, What the fuck is going on here? Baby, I was so scared, I didn’t know what to do.

  Chapter 11

  Since that night, I stayed as far away as possible from my stepfather. Monday through Saturday, he worked at the store from seven a.m. to eleven p.m., and on Sundays, the family stayed in church most of the day, for morning and evening services.

  I used to go to church with my family and stay there most of the day as well, but after that night, I lost all respect for my dad, especially since he was one of the head deacons at our church. Of course, it didn’t have anything to do with him being gay or bisexual, or whatever you wanna call it. It was because he was married to my mom, and I thought he loved only her. But I guess I was wrong.

  My girl Robin and I had graduated from high school about a week ago, and while she studied to take her SAT and apply to different universities, I just moped around the house, feeling sorry for myself, but mostly for my mom. I hadn’t told her what I saw or what my stepfather had said to me. I felt bad for her because I knew how much she loved him.

  Over the summer, my little sister had been staying over one of her friends’ house, and my mom was spending more time volunteering her services at the hospital. Which left me in the house by myself most of the day. Several times, I picked up the phone to call Mr. Jamison, but chickened out at the last minute and hung up. I didn’t know what to say to him. I didn’t wanna tell him what I saw because I was afraid it might get out some kinda way and get back to my dad, and he’d carry out his threat.