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Tales From Sha-Hair-Azad
By Najya Yasirah
Ummm, I Grew Up Singing In Church - Chapter 12
Antoine was beginning to wonder what had happened to his date. A waiter walked by, “Pardon me. But did you see…” “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, my name is Reyjah Bennett and tonight I will sing a song for your entertainment.” The audience was dumbfounded. “Who is that?” Where did come from?” “Where is Darlene?” She looked at Antoine and smiled. “Never mind,” he said to the waiter. Eric began playing to the tune of “To Love you More,” by Celine Dion. Reyjah was so elegant as she sang her heart out, her voice touching each and every person in the restaurant. Her pretty face, elegant stance and awesome vocal range hypnotized the men. The women wondered where she found that wonderful, blue dress and who her personal trainer was. The lights from flashbulbs were endless. “Who is she, she is so beautiful!” “Where did she come from?” Antoine was awestruck and proud. Reyjah winked at him from the stage. He felt like the luckiest man in the world. When she finished, the audience gave her a standing ovation. She took the waiter’s hand and they bowed. Eric gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Bellissima,” he said. “No, thank you,” she said.
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“I was right about you, Reyjah, you are indeed full of surprises,” he said. She bit into her Portobello mushrooms. “You know we hairdressers are miracle workers,” she joked. She dipped her mushrooms into a bowl of marinara sauce. “So Reyjah, tell me more about yourself?” asked Antoine. “Well, My dad is a paramedic and my mom is a professional singer and dancer. I started gymnastics when I was three. I was competing for a very long time, in my teens even, but after a faulty uneven bar incident, I was done.” “What happened?” he asked sipping his champagne. “The bar slipped from its socket, and I just fell …and landed on my knees. In fact after nine surgeries, they finally put a screw in my right knee.” “Is that the same knee…” “Yep". So after that dream was shattered, I went to cosmetology school, and worked as a waitress to support myself.” “Your parents couldn’t support you?” he asked. “They were behind in the bills because of the surgeries, so half of the money I made, went to help them.” “That’s very noble,” he said, nodding. “So, when I finished school, I started working in a 24 hour salon. Talk about hectic. My parents wouldn’t see me for two weeks.” She dabbed her cloth napkin against her full lips. “How did you get involved in bodybuilding? “ he asked. “Oh…that!” she laughed. “ I still had muscle tone from all those years of gymnastics I just decided to keep it, Hey, I’m comfortable and I’m strong. “ She sipped her water again. “Then one day, I saw this muscle magazine and all the chicks were buff and beautiful, but they were all blonde.” She made a disgusted face. “So I thought, what the heck? I had money in the bank, so I got a portfolio made, bought a vehicle, loaded a U-Haul and hauled it to LA.” “That’s a fascinating story, said Antoine. “So what exactly do you get out of doing hair, if you can do so many other things?” he was curious, surely she could try to pursue singing as a career. “Antoine, I have always been a very independent person, but I love helping people. Like my parents, anyone. I like being needed, you know, significant, essential. I love being called on,” she shook her head. “I didn’t have the greatest childhood in the world, but I had parents that loved me and gave me good values, you just can’t buy those.” Antoine nodded. “That’s a good attitude to have,” he said, sipping his white wine. “I am surprised you are not married, Antoine,” said Reyjah, sipping her seltzer water. She refused to drink. “But then again, most women probably only care about your good looks and not your great heart.” She smiled. “You think I have good heart?” he asked. No one had ever said that before. “ Yeah, it’s just lonely.” She estimated. “You’re probably in between women right now, anyway.” He almost choked. “ But right now, fuggedaboutem and dance with me!” she said firmly, in her New York antics. She stood up and held out her hand. “This is different,” he noted with a pleasant smile. “Usually, the man leads.” “Well, I’m just a different girl,” she declared. She led Antoine out to the dance floor. The song was a waltz. “I’ll let you lead,” she giggled. Antoine took one hand and put his other hand around her waist. She was a graceful dancer. It was like she floated on air. They almost bumped into Deuce Bigalow and his wife; a tall pretty strawberry- blonde named Kate. Kate wore a navy-blue halter –style gown with a draped front and walking train. Her hair had been parted on the side and pulled into a bun. “Oh, excuse us, “ said Kate. “Oh, hi Antoine,” she said. “Deuce told me you were here.” Antoine nodded to her. “Who is your friend?” she asked. “I’m Reyjah, Antoine’s hairdresser,” she said, shaking Kate’s hand. “I’m Kate, Deuce’s wife,” she said. “You are a great singer,” said Deuce as they continued dancing. “And your dress is amazing,” said Kate. “Thank you,” said Reyjah. “Do you think you could do my hair, sometime?” said Kate over Deuce’s shoulder. “Sure, I work over at Sha-Hair-Azad , I’ll give you my card before I leave,” said Reyjah. “Great!” said Kate. Reyjah laughed at Antoine’s silence. “What’s eating you, Antoine?” she said, innocently. “Nothing, “ he said, smiling bright. “It’s my own fault for bringing such a talented, friendly, gorgeous woman to a place like this.” “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be in a place like this,” she confessed. He spun her around. When he caught her, he held her close. She could feel his breath against her neck. “Where would you be?” he asked softly. “Probably very bored.”
Tales From Sha-Hair-Azad - Chapter 13