â€œAre you dressed, Jackieâ€, mom called to me. â€œI want to do some shopping after you get a hair cut.
â€œYou need some new clothing for summer campâ€.
â€œMom, do I really have to do thisâ€! Jackie asked her as she walked into the kitchen. â€œDad would not allow you to do itâ€.
â€œYour dad is not around any moreâ€, her mom barked at her, â€œAnd, you better understand thatâ€.
â€œBesides, when you are olderâ€, she commented more, â€œyou can do as you please.
â€œUntil then, you will do as I sayâ€.
I stood looking at her. I stuck my tongue at her.
â€œDo that again young lady and you will be eating through a strawsâ€, she angrily told me.
â€œFor a five year old girl you are too bossy and I do not like that at all.
â€œLetâ€™s see â€¦.. â€œ.
I turned around.
â€œI canâ€™t believe you like dressing like a boyâ€, she told me, as she looked me over. â€œWhy donâ€™t you go put the dress your godmother gave you for your birthdayâ€!
â€œI do not like itâ€, I told her. â€œBesides it is cold outsideâ€.
â€œIt is just breezyâ€, she replied as she motioned me to the front door. â€œYou are dressed like it is was Winterâ€.
â€œNOâ€, Jackie kicked back at her. â€œBesides my hair is just like I like it. Not too shortâ€.
Mom motioned out the door and pointed to the car.
â€œBesides, I will be getting a hair cut, tooâ€, she comments as we got into the care.
â€œWere are we goingâ€, I asked.
â€œDidnâ€™t you get a hair cut just last weekâ€?
â€œI told youâ€, she replied. â€œTo that little barber shop on Tanger Street.
â€œThe one Mrs. Mason told me about.
â€œYou know. The one she takes her daughters toâ€.
â€œRatty girlsâ€, I comments and felt momâ€™s right fist hit me in the left arm.
â€œWhat did I tell you about those name callingâ€, she barked.
â€œBesides, the barber who will be cutting our hair is a womanâ€, mom commented with a smile.
â€œIf you have not noticed, the last hair cut I gotâ€, she continued, â€œwas by her.
â€œRemember what you told meâ€!
â€œYa â€¦.. Yaâ€, I told mom, remembering back to three weeks back. â€œCool hair cut momâ€.
â€œWell, that does not mean I need a hair cutâ€!
â€œWell, you are going to get oneâ€, mom snapped back. â€œAnd, since you like your hair short, she will be cutting it a little shortâ€.
â€œWHATâ€¦..â€! I snapped back at her.
â€œShorterâ€, mom said again. â€œYou have told me you like your hair cut short.
â€œSo, a shorter hair cut would suit you fineâ€.
â€œBUT â€¦â€¦â€, I tried to say.
â€œNo buts â€¦..â€, mom replied. â€œShorter â€¦â€¦ Get it young ladyâ€.
Her we go, â€œyoung ladyâ€.
She always says that when she means something.
â€œOK, but not too shortâ€, I answered back.
She reached over and patted my left knee, â€œLeave that to meâ€.
A few minutes later we pulled in front of the little barbershop.
It looked like the shed in our back yard.
The sign read â€œDeeâ€™s Barber Shopâ€.
Mom gave me a little push, â€œOut â€¦â€¦ Get out and behave your selfâ€.
We, well mom did, walked quickly to door. She opened it and motioned me in.
It was a one chair barber shop.
And, the lady barber was not what I thought.
She was someone who was well dressed. Nice short haircut I could not believe.
Her hair was cut short and combed back off her face.
She was giving a boy, about my age, a military haircut as his mom sat waiting.
â€œGlendaâ€, she said to mom as we walked in, â€œglad you came backâ€.
â€œYesâ€, mom replied to her. â€œI like how you cut my hair my first visit.
â€œThis is my daughter Jackieâ€.
â€œYour daughterâ€, she said to mom. â€œShe looks more like Stan, here.â€
She motioned to the little boy in she chair.
â€œI see youâ€™re getting butcheredâ€, I told the boy.
He smiled a little, as if he agreed with me.
Before I could get a comic book and sit, she was lowering the chair.
The boyâ€™s mom was paying and said, â€œDee, I will be back tomorrow after I get off from workâ€.
â€œGreatâ€, Dee told her. â€œI will be open until seven PMâ€.
â€œJackie, put the comic book backâ€, mom commanded. â€œIt is your turn in the chair, young ladyâ€.
Here we go again, â€œyoung ladyâ€.
â€œWhy canâ€™t you go firstâ€, I cried and put the comic book on the chair.
Mom just looked at me and pointed to the chair.
As I walked to the barber chair, Dee asked, â€œHow old are you, young ladyâ€?
Here we go again, â€œyoung ladyâ€, this time from someone I just met and who was going to butcher my hair like she just did the little boy.
Before I could answer, mom chimed in, â€œJackie is twelve and may not reach sixteen if she continued her waysâ€™!
I stood looking at the barber chair.
I had never seen one this close. It was larger, not small like the chair in Mrs. Stanleyâ€™s Beauty Salon.
Standing next to me, Dee comments, â€œAbout, five six.
â€œYou are tall for twelve and for a young lady, tooâ€.
â€œYes, tallâ€, mom told her. â€œShe is tall like her dad. Whom, we do not speak aboutâ€.
I turned and looked at mom. She just stared at me and pointed to the chair.
I turned back to Dee. She was removing the small booster sit in the chair.
â€œHereâ€, she told me. â€œLet me help youâ€.
I looked at her and stepped on the foot rest and sat in the chair.
Then, she reached over my shoulders and took hold the bottom of my large t-shirt.
â€œLetâ€™s get this offâ€, she told me as she pulled it up and off.
She tossed it to mom, who put it on the chair next to her.
Dee ran her fingers through my, what I thought was, short hair. Well, it was not really that short.
It was just a few inches below my ears and I always combed it back off my face.
You know. I would keep it kind of wet, well kind of greasy, so it would not hang around my head like most of the girls my age.
â€œWell, Glendaâ€, Dee inquired of mom. â€œWhatâ€™s it going to be?
â€œI can give her a nice Bob â€¦â€¦ even a Pixie â€¦..â€!
â€œHummâ€, they sound kind of niceâ€ I told my self. â€œShort but not too short. Just short like I likeâ€.
Mom got up and walked to the chair.
She did the face thing.
You know, taking my face by the chin and turning it this way then that way.
â€œNa â€¦.. Shorterâ€, mom told her as she turned and walked back to the chair she was sitting in.
â€œLike I told you last weekâ€, Dee inquired.
Mom looked at me. I could see her thinking.
What had Dee told her last week, when she got her hair cut by her for the first time.
â€œYes, something like thatâ€, mom told Dee.
â€œCoolâ€, was all Dee said.
Then, she tossed the cape across my lap. Next she wrapped some tissue paper around my neck and pulled the cape up and around my neck, then clipping it place.
Dee began spraying my head with water, as she inquired of mom, â€œYou getting a hair cut, tooâ€.
Mom smiled, â€œOf courseâ€.
â€œGeeâ€, I thought to my self. â€œMom you just got a hair cut last weekâ€.
Dee began combing my wet hair, as she inquired of mom, again, â€œYou made a decisionâ€?
Again mom smiled, â€œYes. The one you told me about.
â€œI have given some thoughts and think I am going to go wildâ€.
â€œWILDâ€, I thought. Thatâ€™s a first.
â€œBut, what was this â€œWILDâ€!
Then, I heard the clicking of scissors behind my head.
Next came the combing of a section of hair, then â€œsnipâ€.
I did not feel the hair on my shoulder, nor could I see how much Dee cut.
â€œThe hair cut has begunâ€, I told my self..
I felt her finger comb through the cut hair in the back of my head.
She walked to the right side of the chair, and me, and turned it a little so I could not see how much she was cutting off.
Starting behind my right ear, she combed and cut.
All I knew was my hair was being cut short. Short than I wanted.
Mom and I just looked at each other.
With each snip of the Deeâ€™s scissors mom would smile.
Well, it could not be that bad, if mom smiled.
Then, Dee combed a section of hair I could see.
She placed the opened scissors about an inch below my ear.
That is not too short.
Maybe I was going to a Bob. I could live with a Bob.
Short but not too short.
Maybe mom is right. Maybe I should just start being a young lady and grow up.
Then, in about five, or six, years I can do what I want.
Just as I was feeling the Bob was cool and short enough.
Dee slipped the scissor up another two inches and snip.
What was left was short. Really short!
Just about an inch of hair was left. And, she started combing a section and snip.
Before I could say anything she was walking around the back of the chair to the left side, as she combed her fingers through the short, shorter than I thought, hair.
Slowly she began cutting the left side from behind my ear.
Within a few minutes I was looking at my self in the large mirror behind where mom was sitting and smiling.
My hair was cut to an inch, even an inch and a half in some place, all over.
â€œHowâ€™s that, Glendaâ€, Dee asked mom.
Mom looked over the butcher hair cut Dee had just given me.
â€œNeeds to be cleaned upâ€, mom told her with a snicker. â€œCleaned up really goodâ€.
â€œWell, mom came to her scenesâ€, I thought.
Then, I felt my chin being pushed to my upper chest.
I did not like the sound I head next.
Followed by a humming sound. I had heard the humming sound in Mrs. Stanleyâ€™s Salon.
She used small clippers to clean up the lower neck of the women, girls, who got a short hair cut about the hairline.
But, this humming was different. It was louder.
More a eating sound.
I felt metal touch my skin below the hairline.
Dee slowly moved it upward and the sound changed to a chewing sound.
She kept moving it up the back of my head then it was moved away from my head.
Dee continued this across the back of my head and till she stopped.
I felt her finger comb my hair up ward and out.
Before I could say a word Dee pushed my head to the left.
The humming sound slowly moved up behind my right ear then forward pushing a pile of hair into my little lap.
Then, before I could get over the shock, Dee began moving the clippers up from in front of my ear.
She placed the clippers on my forehead, right of the center part.
Slowly she moved the clippers back over my head.
Fear came in. Came in strong and crazy.
I looked at mom. She just sat there watching what Dee was doing.
â€œI told you about dressing like a boyâ€, she told me. â€œNow youâ€™re going to look like a little boy and get a hair cut like a little boy.
Dee continued moving the clippers over my head.
Then, she walked around the chair to the left side. This time she started by placing the clippers in front of my ear and moved it upward.
Then, behind my left ear.
Finally, over the left side of my head. When she was finished my hair was short.
Really short. Shorter than I had ever thought of going my self.
Mom got up and walked to the chair. She looked over the haircut. My head was turned to the left then the right.
She walked to the right side of the chair and looked at the back of my head. Her finger brushed up the back of my head.
â€œWhat did you useâ€, mom asked Dee.
â€œNumber oneâ€, she told mom, â€œLike I told youâ€.
â€œHummmmâ€, mom sounded. â€œWhat would be nextâ€?
Dee brushed her left hand over the top of my head then up the back.
She walked to the counter and picked up a small little clipper. Like Mrs. Stanly used.
Mom turned and walked back to the chair she was sitting in.
â€œOâ€™ myâ€, I thought to my self. â€œShe isnâ€™t going to â€¦..â€!
Then, my head was pushed down and Dee placed the little clippers on my neck.
She held it there for a minute. I tried to look at mom. To pleaded with her.
But, I could not because Dee had my face down so I was looking at my lap and the hair she had just cut off my head. I did not know what to do!
I wanted to cry, to cry out. But, for some reason I did not want to.
Did I want Dee â€¦..
Then, I felt the little clippers slowly move up the back of my neck and head.
Then, another, another, until I could feel the cool air of the air conditioner.
She bent my right ear and I felt the little clipper slowly move up from behind it.
Then, over the short side hair in front of my ear.
Walking around the chair to the left side, Dee asked mom, â€œOKâ€?
â€œI am thinking about some thing shorter than how you cut my hair last weekâ€, mom commented.
She is talking about me. She wants to know what you think of the hair cut she was giving me.
She did not ask you, â€œhad you decided how you wanted your hair cutâ€!
â€œSounds greatâ€, Dee replied and started moving the little clippers up the left side of my head again.
Without asking mom Dee placed the little clippers at my forehead and slowly moved it back over my head. A few more movements and she walked to the right side and finished the top of my head.
She turned the little clippers off and brushed her left hand over my head.
I looked at my self in the large mirrors on the wall behind where mom was sitting. I looked at mom. She just sat there.
I saw Dee, with her back to me, in the mirror. She was doing something but I could not see, nor could mom, I think.
Dee looked up from whatever it was, she was doing.
â€œI heard on the news this morningâ€, Dee began saying, â€œItâ€™s going to start getting warmer tomorrow. And, it will be a hot Spring and Summerâ€.
â€œYesâ€, mom replied. â€œI heard the same thing on last nightâ€™s newsâ€.
Here we go, the weather.
Look at how she just cut my hair. She cut all my hair off. I look like I am bald.
Bet I had more hair on my head when I was born than I have on my head now!
â€œCan you go shorterâ€, mom inquired. â€œI might want you to cut my hair shorter than you wanted to last weekâ€.
â€œSureâ€, Dee answered her.
I heard the sound of running water. Then, it sounded like something was under it.
Dee was standing by the sink. What was she doing?
The water stopped and she turned around and wrapped the warm towel, she had in her hands, around my head.
At first I jumped but then it began to cool. It felt like when I washed my hair.
Dee patted around it.
â€œYouâ€, Dee asked mom, â€œthink this will be what she needsâ€?
â€œWell, she always says she like her hair shortâ€, mom said. â€œSo, we will seeâ€.
Then, I heard the water running again. There was a sound of water being poured into water.
Dee turned around and walked to the right side of the chair. Mom looked at her.
She had a cup in her left hand and was moving â€œsomethingâ€ around in the cup.
Then, I watched as she pulled the â€œsomethingâ€ out the cup. It was all white and soft.
Her right hand and the thing rose to my head and she began spreading the white stuff over my head.
She brushed it over first then gently rubbed it over my head.
She put the â€œsomethingâ€ back in the cup and took it out with some more of the white stuff and did the same thing.
She walked around the back of my head doing this over and over my neck and the back of my head. Finishing on the left side of my head.
Dee placed the cup with the â€œsomethingâ€ on the sink and reached it the glass cabinet for something, else.
In her right hand was something I saw before. My grandfather used it every morning.
Dee held the leather strap with her left hand and moved the â€¦.. straight razor over it a few times.
As she raised it to my head I saw mom look up. She smiled and shook her hear â€œYESâ€.
I started to get out the chair.
But, Dee stopped me by pushing me back with her left hand and mom stood up.
â€œSTOPâ€, mom said to me. â€œYou sit still and behaveâ€.
She sat down as Dee place the blade of the straight razor on my forehead and began shaving my head.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to yell at mom, at Dee. I wanted to get out the chair.
But, I knew I would not get far, nor even make it out the chair.
I just sat there, mad.
I watched, as did mom, as Dee slowly, like she was getting off on it, shave my head.
After a few slow downward movement of the straight razor I began feeling a strange feeling within my body. I began to relax as Dee began another shaving stroke.
I felt the coolness of the air conditioner on the shaved area of my forehead.
I looked at mom. She smiled at me and winked.
For some reason, I can not say, I smiled back at her.
â€œWell, Glendaâ€, Dee spoke to mom, â€œyou were saying you wanted your hair cut like I wanted to last weekâ€?
Mom looked at Dee.
â€œYesâ€, Mom told Dee. â€œI got to thinking when I got home and started to return.
â€œBut, I got caught up in a few other things.â€
â€œWell, Jackieâ€, mom said to me, â€œI saw the little smile you just gave me.
â€œI take it â€¦..â€!
â€œI had no choiceâ€, I replied back to her. â€œWhen Dee buzzed my head with the little clippers â€¦..
â€œWell, I knew it was going to happen no matter what I wanted or said.
â€œSo, as you can see I am sitting here with my head half shaved and the other half waiting to be shaved.
â€œWhat other choice did I haveâ€?
â€œSee Deeâ€, mom commented to her, â€œthe hair cut is starting to get to her.
â€œWhat do you thinkâ€?
Dee, standing behind the chair and me, stopped shaving.
â€œWell, one step taken does not mean anther will be taken and other steps followingâ€, Dee commented to mom.
â€œBut, back to your hair cutâ€, Dee inquired.
â€œNext â€¦.. Or will you be coming backâ€?
Mom looked at me then Dee, who started shaving the back of my head.
She smiled at Dee and winked.
â€œI will be taking the next step, tooâ€:
â€œWell thenâ€, Dee said to mom, â€œwhy donâ€™t I take Jackie to the next step!
â€œI think she is ready for itâ€!
Mom looked at me with her thinking face and expression.
This got me worrying again.
â€œWHATâ€ was this â€œnext stepâ€ and the other next steps.
â€œWhat do you think, Jackieâ€, Dee asked me.
â€œWhateverâ€, I replied. â€œYou are shaving my head.
â€œI did not ask mom if I could, either.
â€œWhatever mom saysâ€.
Mom looked at me, her look changed a little. I should not have said that.
Dee looked at mom waiting for her reply to the question, â€œNext stepâ€?
â€œNoâ€™, mom told her, â€œnot today. It is too earlyâ€™.
Dee again started shaving the left side of my head.
I looked at myself in the large mirror,
â€œJust a little moreâ€, I thought to myself, and she will be finishedâ€.
As she shaved the last small lathered area I got another strange feeling. This one had the â€œdark side of my brainâ€ taking charger of my normal mine.
I watched as Dee walked to the sink. She moved the straight razor under hot running water and put in the glass cabinet she took it from.
She ran the shaving brush under the warm water, washing any lather from it. It was place on the counter next the shaving mug.
Taking another large white towel, from the pile under the counter, she placed it under the running warm water. After a few minutes she rung it out and turned and wrapped it around my head.
It made my shaved, hairless, scalp burn at the touch. Slowly the warmth cooled as she press on the towel.
Then, she wiped my head with it..
She grabbed the handle, on the right side of the chair, and pushed it forward.
I watched as my head, my shaved head, slowly lower so I could not see it in the large mirror.
The chair came to a stop. Dee stood behind the chair. Her hands on my shoulders.
â€œNext step, Glendaâ€, she asked mom. â€œI just have to â€¦..â€!
Mom looked at her, then me.
â€œMaybe â€¦.. maybeâ€, mom told her.
Dee shook some powder and a large brush and dusted it over my head, across my face, across my nape as she removed the larger white towel.
â€œOK Jackieâ€, Dee said to me as she held the cape in her left hand. â€œAll done â€¦..
â€œAll done for now â€¦..â€
To be continued â€¦â€¦ JimB Â©opyright April 2016