Red Carpet Walk

Written by Jae C. Henderson April 2020

Tristan slid the flimsy old brown closet door as far as it would go and propped it against the wall for stability. The faux wood grain on the front was chipping in various places exposing the hollow insides of the door and constantly sending it off track, but that didn't matter because this was one of Tristan’s favorite places. 

Tristan would spend hours playing and exploring in between the row of freshly pressed, brightly-colored skirt suits hanging over the mayonnaise-polished dress heels. Tristan’s favorite game to play was “Walk the Red Carpet” which required pulling together different combinations of skirt suits, dress blouses, and heels, and putting them on to strut across the carpet for some distance before striking a pose for paparazzi.

Tristan would often lose track of time while playing this little game, only to be brought back to reality by the sound of Aunt Maggie or Uncle Phil’s calls from the front of the house. 

“Trriissttaann! Let's go, boy,” Uncle Phil would call to signal it was time for Tristan to join him to help clean the front or back yard.

“Tre! Time to eat,” Aunt Maggie would yell from the kitchen. 

Then Tristan would immediately end the game, put all of the items away where they were originally found, and resume life as usual.

However, the truth for Tristan was that life felt most worth living while playing “Walk the Red Carpet.” The game made Tristan feel strong, bold, and beautiful. Walking the red carpet made the dingy gray carpet in the bedroom seem less dull and uninteresting.  

One day, Tristan got especially deep into the game, tuning out the world around and completely missing Uncle Phil’s call to clean.

“Tre. Boy ain't you hear yo uncle….” Aunt Maggie began as she entered the room, wiping her hands on her apron. Then she paused as she fixed her gaze on young Tre striking a pose in the mirror wearing her ocean blue skirt suit with her polished peach leather heels, a cream-colored lace blouse, and a full face of makeup. 

“What….the…” she slowly muttered under her breath, taken aback by the scene.

Tristan, who’s 12-year old prepubescent body was absolutely drowning in her clothes, turned to face Aunt Maggie with a look of absolute horror.

“Aunt Maggie!” Tristan started, “...I, I, I can explain.” Tristan stuttered.

Aunt Maggie shook her head in disbelief, but then, gathering herself, she continued, “Tre. What’s going on baby?”

“Well, you see,” Tristan went on with his head hung and his gaze off to the side, “I, I like to play this game. I call it Walk the Red Carpet. I put on your clothes...and I pretend like I'm Beyonce or Nicki Minaj….” 

Maggie blinked slowly to bring herself back as she took in the entire scene around her.

“And my makeup?” she questioned slowly, carefully.

“Well, I saw this video on Youtube where I learned how to do it. So I just...kinda…” Tristan trailed off again.

Maggie sat on the edge of the bed and reached out for Tristan to take a seat next to her.

“But Tre, baby,” she went on, embracing Tristan in a warm, enveloping hug, “you’re a little boy. You shouldn’t be playing in girls' clothes and you sho shouldn't be puttin' on no makeup. Little boys don't do things like that. Soon here you’ll be a man. You will have a wife and maybe a son or daughter of your own and, you see, men definitely don do that.”

Tristan sighed and hung his head further. “Yes ma'am,” he said after some time, accepting his aunt’s words as truth. 

“But Aunt Maggie….can I tell you something?”

“Anything baby,” Maggie said matter-of-factly.

“I...I don’t always feel like a boy aunt Maggie. What if I don't want to do the stuff Uncle Phil does? What if I don't want to be a man?” Tristan questioned. 

“Well, I suppose we may just have to figure out another way for you then. But for now, let's make sure your uncle doesn't see you struttin’ around in my clothes, ok?”

Tristan nodded, with the tears welling in his eyes beginning to spill over his eyelids. 

“Now you go on and get cleaned up and go help your uncle outside.”

Tristan nodded again, wiping his face with his hands.

As Tristan began to get up and put Aunt Maggie’s clothes back exactly where they were originally found, Maggie jokingly said, “But I’ll tell you what, you definitely got some style boy! Hell, you might need to start picking out my clothes for me too! And that lil smokey eye ain't too bad either. Maybe you can give me makeup tips.”

Tristan smiled, and nodded sheepishly, removing the heels before finally sliding the old closet door back on its track.