The Colors of August, Chapter 6
I wake up and look across the room. I’m surprised to see August sitting there. He’s at the window in the room of the Crawford house. This house is grand and everything in just measures up to this amazing scale. He’s sitting in front of a huge window. It’s a window that is unnecessarily big. The southern sun compliments him as it sways into the room lighting up this strong face of his. His lips are full like a black boy but pink like the roses in my garden. His hair was seemed to take the color of the sun, steal it. He stole nature in his eyes too. All the beautiful hues of the world were in those eyes of his. He looks at me and he steals a little part of me with his stare as well.
“Have you been here all night?” I ask.
Those eyes sink into me. He stops my heart a little every time he stares.
“On and off,” he states walking closer, “How are you feeling?”
Before I know it he’s real close. Too close. His hand is rubbing on my cheek. He has a loose white shirt on that clings to his muscles like a baby to a nip. It doesn’t do a thing hiding any cut or definition from that perfect body of his. I let him touch my face but I look at his hands as though they are a strange and alien thing. His skin color is smooth and clear. It reminds me of the inside of an almond.
“You’re warm. Sorry, am I being too rough?”
“I prefer it a rougher tough.”
He blushes when I say that. That’s the thing about white boys. You can always tell when they blush. But that’s also the thing about August. He’s far too gentle. His hands are far too soft. He’s touching me now and it feels as though he’s touching a baby. I didn’t like it.
Then he says the worse thing ever, “You’re just so fragile right now…”
I roll my eyes. I know he catches it. The idea that he thinks I’m fragile irritates me. Chuck would never call me fragile. Chuck knew what I liked.
“I should go.”
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No. Not at all. Just…I should go. I should take some medicine and get to work.”
“The doctor called, said the medicine he gave you was no good.”
August nods, “Yes. And it’s not worth it to work today in the garden. Matter of fact I made some calls this morning. There’s an old library on Main street. You know it?”
“Oh yeah, I been there a few times. What about it?”
“They looking for a landscaper. I called, let them know what a good job you did. They are willing to have you come down. I’m sure they pay just as good.”
The word of a Crawford went far in Birmingham, even if it’s a Crawford that wasn’t from Birmingham. Looking at August, I didn’t quite understand why he would go out of his way to find me another job though.
“You don’t want me around no more?”
He looks at me with this worried look, “No…of course not. That’s not what it is at all. Of course, I want you around.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Your character confuses me,” August states, “Sometimes I’m unsure how to protect you. If someone meant you harm, would you want to know? Would you want me to tell you?”
He has a heaviness to him. He’s holding a secret. Knowing August I could only come to one conclusion. He was talking about Chuck. He didn’t know the history of Chuck and I, however. Talking to Chuck’s cousin about our relationship right now definitely wasn’t going to work. I think about how hurt I still am about Chuck and the truth was I don’t think I could handle anything else.
August struggles with it, “OK. I’ll respect that.”
“I should leave.”
August hesitates again before nodding in agreement, “I’ll have one of the drivers take you home. But I definitely think you should go check out the library later. That would be…better…for you than here.”
He was trying to get rid of me. That’s the only thing I think when he’s talking. I thought he liked me. I thought he wanted me around. Maybe he’s just trying to keep me away from Chuck. I had seen these boys and how they jealous they get from time to time, especially with Chuck. I didn’t want to be a part of it.
As we walk down the steps, I can feel August’s eyes on me. I can feel his lingering presence. I sense how he follows me with those eyes. His mouth kept open wanting to say something.
“Peter! Peter, would you mind taking Stevey home?” August says as we walk out to the front of the large mansion.
“Yes, sir. Of course, Mr. Crawford.”
“Stevey?” a voice states.
I turn at that moment and I’m surprised when I see Mrs. Crawford walking up. She’d just come back from her usual morning walk. This time she had Mary Flannery clutched in her hand like some rich accessory. Mrs. Crawford is breathing hard, clearly showing how out of shape she is even though I’m sure they just walked around the gardens once or twice. I can see how uncomfortable Mary Flannery looks as she stands there acting as Mrs. Crawford’s human walking stick. None-the-less Mary Flannery puts on her normal demure smile and continues to kiss Mrs. Crawford’s plump white ass.
“Good Morning ma’am,” I state.
“The doctor takes care of you?” Mrs. Crawford asks him.
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for the hospitality. You all didn’t have to do that.”
Mrs. Crawford doesn’t return my smile when I give her one. She looks me up and down like she’d rather be doing anything right now than talking to me.
Actually, I’m quite surprised at this point that she still is.
“We need you to work tonight. It’s the Engagement party.”
“I’m not sure Stevey’s up to it ma’am,” August states.
“Nonsense. He needs the money, don’t you Stevey?”
“Good and we need the extra help.”
“It’s going to be a masquerade. It’s going to be quite the spectacle,” Mary Flannery pokes at August, “Everyone whose everyone is going to be here.”
August puts on a smile. I don’t think he means it. Luckily, Mrs. Crawford and Mary Flannery don’t notice. Mrs. Crawford is too tired and Mary Flannery is too stuck in her own head thinking about her glamorous southern engagement. This wasn’t the first time they’d thrown a party at the Crawford mansion. This wasn’t the first time I worked one of those parties. I knew this was different because this was June Crawford’s wedding, but there was something more to it. There was something else to August’s eyes.
“You’re acting weird,” I say to him, “What the hell is going on with you.”
“You don’t talk to a Crawford like that BOY!” Peter barks at me.
I shut up at that moment. Peter, the Crawford driver, was known for being a snitch. He was also quite the liar. I remember he told on Louise, one of the kitchen girls, for fixing her a small plate of food out of the Crawford kitchen. Mind you, Louise and the other girls had spent hours preparing the food. Peter didn’t care. I remember how he smiled when Mrs. Crawford gathered all of her staff in the living room and lectured us for two hours straight on stealing. Louise was let go at the very end of it as an example to the rest of us.
“He can talk to me however he pleases,” August responds.
I’m surprised by that. No. Actually, I’m shocked.
“Sir, Stevey…just has a tendency to feel…comfortable,” Peter states, “Just like his mama…”
“What the hell do you know about his mama?”
I’m shocked when August grabs Peter up in a way that is so aggressive that I almost fear for Peter’s life. August was this kind soul every time he was around me but right now in that very moment, he had a rage that I hadn’t seen from him at all. It was a rage I didn’t even think he possessed. When he yolks up Peter, Peter loses his balance and his legs give way. He doesn’t fall though because August is grabbing him in the manliest way possible.
He’s so rough. Peter dangles from his hands like a rag doll. I didn’t know August was that strong. I didn’t know he was that…HARD.
Or maybe that was just my dick at that moment.
“Damn…” I whisper.
“Sir I didn’t mean anything by it,” Peter begs raising his hands to block his face.
“Get to the car and if I hear you disrespect Stevey again, we’ll be finishing this conversation,” August blurts out.
Peter was a white boy. Mind you, his family was dirt poor. He was raised in the slums. His mother was a goddam drug addict who was known to sleep with married men. Still, Peter was above me in the Crawford house because of the color of his skin.
“Yes sir,” Peter states.
Peter gives me a look. It’s a look that tells me he isn’t going to take this lightly. I knew him. I knew him well. He was going to tell someone. I just didn’t know yet who it was. But I knew Peter well enough to know that he’d use this moment against me somehow.
At that moment I don’t even care though. Peter is walking to the car and August is breathing heavy with his mouth open. The classic handsome face that he’d always maintained is replaced by something ugly and angry.
“Sorry you had to see me like that,” he states.
I can’t help myself. I don’t know what goes over me. All of a sudden I’m pushing up on him. It’s something I would never have even done with Chuck. I find myself in his arms. As I press up against him, I lower my hand between us.
I grab his dick in my hands. I squeeze it. First, it’s just a grab. Then it’s more. Then I’m giving it a long hard squeeze until it slowly gets hard in between my hands. August seems shocked at first. I can see how surprised he is when I start doing this. Then all of a sudden he’s watching me with this longing in his eyes. He’s turned on. His dick gives it away first but then his face follow.
“I want you,” I tell him.
He’s surprised by it.
“I want you inside of me.”
He looks around. No one is around. Not now.
“We can go back inside.”
“No. Tonight. At the party.”
“Are you sure?”
I smile, “Yes. I’ll be ready for you…”
I walk away. I can feel him looking at me. It’s not the kind soul that he has been before though. He’s staring at my ass. I can feel it. I know he wants me. I’m turning him on and that loving nature that he has is replaced by this strong desire to rip my clothes off and fuck me to pieces.
And for some reason, I’m starting to really like August Crawford.
I’m in the mirror later that day. It’s night time. I’d spent the day preparing for this, helping Sissy sew her outfit. The Crawford’s liked us to look nice when we were serving their guests. It reflected well on them when the help actually presented themselves in a decent manner.
“Hurry up!” I hear Sissy scream out from the kitchen.
“I’m almost done,” I state.
I’m looking down at the masks that I can wear. One of them is a bull. The other is an angel. I decide on the bull at that moment picking up the mask and starting to tie it.
That’s when I notice the figure in the doorway. The large, thick black figure in the doorway. He doesn’t have a shirt on. I can tell from how thick his muscles are, to the brawniness of his thighs and the dark chocolate complexion who it is before anything.
He folds his armss over his large beefy chest, “You going to serve those crackers after what they did to you?””
“Don’t start Beau,” I state.
“You ain’t nothing but a goddam house nigga.”
“What’d you call me?”
“A muff’fuckin House Nigga!”
I lose it at that moment. I slap the dog shit out of him. My hand stings after I hit his face. Beau barely moves. If I had slapped a white person there would be red on their cheek. Beau doesn’t have any of that. He just looks at me with this malice. He hates the thought of what I’m doing. I can see it in his eyes.
I expect him to hit me back. I expect him to punch me. Shug would have done it. I know Shug. Shug would have wailed on me so hard that I probably would have had to wear two masks to this party.
“You do whatever they say?” he asks me, “You their little call boy?”
“You talking all that shit while you’re in my house hiding from them because you scared of what they do when they find out what you did to that little white girl.”
“I ain’t touch that white bitch.”
“August says you might have.”
“He’s a white devil like the rest of them.”
“Naw, he’s not actually,” I state smiling at the thought and leaning into him, “And you know what? I might just let him fuck me tonight.”
I know I shouldn’t be saying these things but I’m so pissed. I’m pissed at the idea that he called me a “house nigga”. Who the hell did he think he was? Just because he felt like he was too good to work for white men and rather be broke all the goddam time living off his all the black girls who adored him, doesn’t make him better than me.
I needed this money. Sissy needed this money. We didn’t do this shit because we enjoyed it.
“What did you just say?”
“I said he wants to fuck me and I might just let him.”
That’s when Beau snaps. Beau fucking snaps. He grabs me at that moment. He slams me up against the wall harder than I could imagine. I hit the wall and feel the pain shoot up my back.
“I’ll kill you before I let you disrespect us by letting that cracker in you!”
For a moment I think he means it when his hands tighten around my neck. It gets harder and harder. I can feel myself struggling to get loose. All of a sudden I realize that his lips are pressed up against my lips in the bathroom. He’s kissing me so damn hard putting his tongue in my mouth. He forces it in there and I bite it. I bite the hell out of his tongue. I bite it so hard that it starts to bleed.
“Bitch,” I respond.
“I’ll show you,” he says and then says it over and over again in this crazy way, “I’ll show you. I’ll show you. I’ll show you.”
At first, I’m not sure what he’s talking about. He just seems completely mad. Then all of a sudden I see him taking his pants off. He lowers his pants completely off his body, releasing his anaconda. His dick is so big. I watch as it dangles out of his pants. He spits on his hand and rubs it all over the head of the dick. Then he grabs me up with one hand. He pushes my head down hard, bending me over the toilet.
“What is this some sort of joke?” I laugh.
I realize he’s not joking when my pants come down. I clench my ass a little bit but he roughly pushing the head of his dick in me. He pushes it all the way for the first time. I exhale deeply feeling the weight of his cock protrude to my intestines almost. Immediately my eyes almost bulge out of my goddam head when it happens. His dick hit me in a place that I didn’t know a dick could really hit me.
“You think that white boy can fuck you like this?” he asks me.
“You so goddam full of yourself,” I respond, “A big dick don’t mean anything.”
This seems to get under Beau’s skin even more. Out of nowhere he begins to drill me.
“I’ll show you, I’ll show you…”
Beau is snarling. He’s trying to prove something as he begins to drill inside of me. I regret pulling his card almost immediately as he starts to pummel inside of me as though he’s digging a grave. He fucks me from my shoulders instead of my waist, pulling himself deep inside of me with every thrust. He grabs the back of my neck keeping me down, attempting to dominate me. Beau body is all over me. His big black beefy body holds me down to isolate my asshole and he only pulls out to spit on his dick.
I’m grabbing onto anything, towels, racks, the toilet seat. Nothing really eases the tension of him pushing deep inside of my hole. He’s intentionally stretching me out.
Not only does he want to prove a point. He wants to make sure that he is going to fuck me so deep that I wouldn’t be able to a let a white man inside of me tonight.
“Erghhh,” he grunts.
I know what that means. His body tenses up. He has my head pushed down. Then he pulls at my shoulder and releases inside of me. I can feel the semen shoot up into my asshole like a rocket. He continues to thrust roughly inside of me making sure that I feel everything. The semen leaks out of my ass like frosting when he finally pulls out.
His dick is still hard.
“That white boy ain’t gon NEVER give you no dick like that,” he stays grunting as he slaps his huge dick across the side of my face several times for good measure, letting the tip of his cock release after shots of semen on my lips, “They don’t got it in them. Every time he pulls his dick out you going to be thinking about how this big black dick felt inside of you. You hear me? YOU FUCKING HEAR ME!”
I look up at him. I’m sprawled out on the bathroom floor at that moment. My asshole is stretched and leaking. I feel…complete.
“Yes Daddy,” I respond.
“Good now gimme that motherfuckin’ mask,” he states.
He doesn’t wait for me to give to him. He yanks it out of my hand. Just at that moment, the door opens and I see Sissy coming in looking angry, “What you doing Stevey, we late. You need to—-”
Sissy stops talking. She stops talking because she sees Beau over me. His dick is still hard. I’m still laying down there on the bathroom floor. Beau has my mask in his hands.
“He ain’t going no fucking where,” Beau states.
Sissy looks at Beau, “Beau now…Stevey has to work. He told Mrs. Crawford.”
“Fuck that white bitch,” Beau barks and spits on the floor at the thought of a white person with this heavy racism dripping out of his mouth with each word.
“Beau calm down,” Sissy states.
“No fuck that, where Shug? Call Shug. Call Lonny. I’m tired of this shit. I’ll show them. I’ll show them. I’ll show them.”
The sound that Beau has in his voice is scary, to say the least. He showed me. He had proved his point. He had fucked me so hard that I couldn’t even move. Hell, I couldn’t even argue with him anymore. I’d never gotten dicked down like that by Chuck. And I damn sure didn’t think August was capable of fucking me like that.
Beau had shown me.
And now he was ready to “show them.”
Sissy seems scared, “What are you going to do?”
Beau has the mask in his hands, “I got a party to attend…”