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Tales From Sha-Hair-Azad
By Najya Yasirah
East Meets West - Chapter 1
Once inside, Antoine flipped on the lights. His mansion was awesome. She finally got a look at him. She knew his accent sounded exotic, but she didn’t expect him to be. His skin was dark-olive and the sun had also been good to him. He was dressed in a pair of gray pajama pants. His body was better than any body builder that she had ever seen-and she had seen many. His eyes were a beautiful shade of coffee. But what pushed her buttons were those full lips that were surrounded by a neatly- trimmed mustache and goatee. She could tell that his hair was jet-black and naturally wavy, even though it was pulled back tightly. “Ow,” she said. “Damn.” Antoine picked her up without warning and gently laid her down on his huge gray leather sofa. “Do you treat all your unexpected guests this way?” she joked. She was still pissed, but she still wanted to lighten the mood. Antoine smirked, as he went to get an ice pack from the refrigerator. The woman that lay on his couch was indeed the sexiest, most exquisite creature that he had ever seen. He loved the smooth chocolate tone of her skin. He could make out the definition in her muscles, especially in her abs. She also had two navel rings that seemed to connect. Her legs were endless, but she wasn’t very tall. Maybe 5’7 at the most. Her hair to him, was pretty. She had parted it diagonally in the front and had slicked it back into a ponytail. Her beauty was strong, but at the same time modest. Her face did not depict her age at all. He watched sweat as it rolled down neck and landed in between her breasts. She surveyed the room. All of his appliances were state of the art. In fact, his mansion was not too far from the beach. She shook her head. Antoine returned with ice pack in hand. She moved her legs carefully, so he could sit down. “Here, give me your knee,” he said. She put her right leg on his lap. He carefully pressed the ice pack on her knee. “Achiwawa!” she said in reaction to the cold.” Antoine laughed. “What’s so damn funny?” she asked. “Your bitch did this.” She looked at the red mark on his handsome face. “She got you, too. I see,” she said. Antoine looked at her with a mysterious smile. “Where are you from?” he asked, finally. “New York,” she said proudly. “Why?” “That accent,” he said. “It’s not the stereotypical accent, but it’s still there.” “What about yours, Smooth Operator?” she said. “Where are you from?” she asked sarcastically. “I am from Sardinia, it’s an island off of Italy.” “Ahh yeah, the Italian Stallion, giddy up, cowboy!!” She twirled an imaginary lasso. He laughed. Most women didn’t make him laugh. He could not resist caressing the brown, muscular leg that rested comfortably in his lap. She felt like an old friend and he only knew her for 10 minutes. She felt the softness of his hand. She breathed deep. “ So is it over?” she blurted. “Is what?’ he said casually, not realizing that he did not even know her name. “Whatever it was between you and Over-The –Hill Barbie?” she said. He loved her accent. “I mean, the chick had more plastic than a Tupperware Party.” Antoine burst with laughter. She was so correct. “I mean is any of her made from human parts?” she added, shaking her head. “I wonder, if she fell down the stairs, would she just fall apart?” Antoine cracked his sides. He held her ankle. “You’re funny.” He said pointing to her. “Gotta laugh in these situations.” She said. Just so you can go on with life and not dwell on them,”she said with a lofty tone. “And speaking of going on…” she looked at her watch. “I had better be going.” She eased her leg from Antoine’s lap. He wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. She stood up, but her knee caused her to limp a little. “Let me…” he said as he slung her over his shoulder once again. “Geez, you are such a gentleman,” she said. He put her down at the front door. He stood very close to her. So close, he could smell her sweat. “Thank you, for your grand hospitality,” she faked a southern accent, which sounded hilarious to Antoine. “I have always relied on the kindness of strangers,"she quipped. “Can I drive you home?” he offered nonchalantly. “Nah, save your gas,” she said. “Trust me, I’m a big girl. I’ve taken worse hits.” She turned to leave. As she began walking down the street, she exhaled. “God, that man was gorgeous!!.” Antoine closed his front door. He sighed. He noticed the broken Discman on his couch. He smiled.
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After Reyjah showered her sweaty body, she wrapped her knee. The action brought back memories. She could recollect when she competed in gymnastics. She was on the uneven bars. A faulty bar caused her to fall and land on her knees. Her right knee took to the impact the worst. After nine surgeries, the ninth resulting in a screw, she turned to fitness modeling. Since there was no demand in fitness modeling in New York, so she moved to LA. She missed her friends and clients from the salon in New York. She had worked at a 24-hour salon until her lawsuit against the gymnastics committee went through. She was awarded 12.2 million dollars as well as compensation for her medical bills. She put the money in the bank, bought her parents a home in Manhattan, a new Lincoln Navigator, and with a U-haul packed her life to California. She decided not to buy the baddest house on the block, but she would indeed live in luxury. She found a job at a very prestigious salon, and had been chilling ever since. She still had time to work out, go to modeling auditions and even sing at clubs every once in a while. She substituted break dancing for gymnastics. She searched through her walk-in closet to find something to wear. She loved living alone, so she could walk around freely in her Victoria’s Secret bras and matching undies. Today, the set was dark blue. “Let’s see, what to wear…” she said pushing through racks of clothes. “Ahh yeah..”she said. She found her favorite, dark-blue denim jumpsuit with zip-front and bell-bottom legs. She quickly put it on. She then found her favorite black 3’ heel boots. When she finished dressing, she inspected herself in her full-length mirror. The jumpsuit accentuated every line and curve of her body without being obscene. The short sleeves boasted the muscles in her arms. They always joked on her at work about her muscles, but hey, that was she. She would rather be muscular than skip a meal. She went to the bathroom and unfastened her hair. She quickly brushed the tangles out. She never wore it down at work. “What the hell, why not?” she said. She opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a contact lens case. Inside were prescription blue-tinted lenses. She chuckled as she put them in. She could hear her mother’s harping about her low self-esteem. After putting on earth-toned makeup and huge, golden hoop earrings, she grabbed her purse and was on her way to work.
Tales From Sha-Hair-Azad - Chapter 2