Annabelle’s Surprise at the Barbershop

I sat down on the waiting bench in the cheap barbershop with my teenage son, Toby, sitting next to me. He was there to get his floppy hair trimmed for summer, and I wanted to ensure the barber did not cut it too short.

I always disliked being in this male domain and hoped the line would move quickly. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a stark glare that made everything around me feel oppressive. All I wanted was to get in and out, but the universe had other plans.

“Mum?” Toby questioned innocently, his wide eyes scanning the room. “Why are those two ladies in here?”

I had not noticed them when we walked in. They were out of place, the embodiment of elegance in a crowd of men and boys. The smartly dressed older woman sat furthest from us, wrapped in a fitted Chanel suit that made her look like she had stepped off a fashion runway rather than into a cramped barbershop. She had twisted her long black hair into an immaculate updo, accentuating her sharp features. She looked intimidating and was clearly the kind of woman who could command a room.

Next to her sat a much younger woman with long blonde hair that rippled down her back spilled over the bench in a cascade of gold. She wore a vibrant yellow summer dress with short-puffed sleeves, the plunging neckline hinting at her youthfulness, while the hem barely met the tops of her thighs. She lacked expression in her features, her glassy eyes fixed on some distant point beyond the chaos of the barbershop.

‘I’m not sure, Toby,’ I whispered, ‘but I’ve told you before it’s rude to stare.’

In some ways, it was a pointless remark as all the men and boys were all stealing occasional glances at the attractive pair of women that had dared to infiltrate their domain. By contrast, they ignored me. I was the only other woman in the shop but looked immediately forgettable in my worn jeans and cotton shirt. The casual ponytail I had thrown together that morning did nothing to elevate my appearance.

“H… hello, Miss, you h… have lovely long hair,” Toby stutteringly piped up, his cheeks burning as the bashfulness of youth overtook him.

The younger woman did not even acknowledge him, staring straight ahead as if she were the subject of an art piece that no one could touch. But the older woman turned her head sharply, an amused smirk creeping onto her lips.

“It will be much nicer soon, young man,” she teased, gesturing dramatically towards the barber, who was currently working on a young boy’s trim, then clicking two fingers together in a scissoring motion.

Toby’s face contorted into a look of horror. “No, you can’t—”

“Oh, but I can, Toby,” the older woman interrupted, her voice cold and dripping with authority, somehow made even worse by picking up my use of his name earlier. There was a tangible shift in the air, a sense of looming danger that tickled my instincts, nudging me to turn and leave. But I sat still, curiosity wrapping around my thoughts like a vine.

Toby looked as if he might cry. I could sense his innocence crumbling. “But it’s not right…”

“It is certainly right, Toby,’ the older woman laughed, a sharp sound that sent chills down my spine. ‘And it is necessary.”

“Mum, I don’t understand,” my son whimpered, his voice trembling.

I urged him to relax, patting his shoulder in a feeble attempt to soothe him. I was equally perplexed, my mind racing to comprehend the bizarre dynamic between these two women. What was her game? Why was she so intent on tormenting a boy whose only crime was an innocent compliment?

“Next!” the barber called out, and the moment hung like a pendulum.

With a flick of her wrist, the older woman pushed the younger one forward as if she were her puppet.

“Don’t go!” Toby exclaimed, his voice rising in pitch, drawing chuckles from a few of the other customers.

The younger women hesitantly made her way to the barber’s chair.

“Please shave Annabelle completely bald,” the older woman instructed, as if the magnificent golden hair that had taken so many years meant nothing.

“No!” Toby cried, his voice laced with panic as tears streaked down his cheeks.

I tried to calm him despite sharing his concern. Her hair was breathtaking, flowing like silk, and the very thought of the barber shearing it all off made my stomach turn over in a strange way.

But any words of complaint died in my throat at the sight of Annabelle’s stoic expression. It was as if she had submitted to some curious agreement or demand. The gravity of the situation was as compelling as it was shocking.

‘Certainly, Madam,’ the barber said, acknowledging the older woman’s instruction but not seeing the need to clarify if the command was in line with Annabelle’s wishes.

The barber enveloped Annabelle with a large white cape and retrieved his hairclippers. Placing the shining blade on her forehead, he carved a broad swathe along her crown as if it were just another day in the office.

‘Mum?’ Toby whined, but the rest of the shop had fallen silent at the dramatic sight.

Again, and again, the barber drove the hairclippers around Annabelle’s head. Huge piles of golden locks gathered on her shoulders, then in her lap, before tumbling to the floor.

Eventually, all that remained was a barely discernible blonde fuzz. The barber swiftly coated her whole head with shaving cream, then methodically scraped a blade across her skin until every last hair was gone.

When he finished, he rubbed oil into her scalp, polishing it to a shine that gleamed under the harsh lights, making her look exotic and somehow more stunning than before.

“Excellent work, sir,” the older said, clapping her hands together in delight, and tipping him generously.

He removed the cape and Annabelle rose to her feet, looking almost other worldly, with her stark bald head contrasting with her distinctly feminine attire.

I was unable to speak, but the emotions churned inside me, a tempest of confusion and anger. Surprisingly, Toby was silent too. He just stared, mouth half open.

Then, almost casually, the older woman picked up a thick tendril of Annabelle’s long hair and curled it slowly gently onto Toby’s lap. Toby quivered, a smile almost playing on his lips. “Enjoy, Toby!” the woman encouraged, smirking as she cast an eye towards the tightness in his shorts.

‘Thank you, Miss,’ Toby sighed, sounding highly distracted.

Toby’s face betrayed the excitement brewing within him, and then her voice cut through the chaos like a knife. “Toby, ask the barber to shave your hair too. You will enjoy it immensely.”

“Yes, Miss,” he said, a strange obedience in his tone that shocked me to my core.

“Wait a minute,” I interjected, panic igniting within me. “He’s my son, and I will choose what happens to him!”

The older woman’s piercing gaze cut through the tension. She raised an eyebrow, a hint of danger glinting in her eye. She lifted my unkempt hair with disdain, briefly examined it, then quickly released it as if it were not something that deserved her attention.

With deft fingers, she slipped me a business card. “If you are interested in following in Annabelle’s footsteps, please do get in touch. I would be delighted to help.”

I was so confused that I did not know what to think or how to react. Everything felt new, but anything felt possible. Annabelle, now standing close to us with a sheen of oil reflecting the barbershop’s fluorescent lights, displayed no emotion but her beauty in such proximity was stark and unsettling. The older woman took my hand, guiding it to touch the surface of Annabelle’s polished scalp. It felt alien, like glass, and strangely erotic.

Amidst the confusion, I heard Toby’s voice once more. “Please, sir, shave my head completely bald,” he requested, a calmness in his tone that was unsettling.

When the barber carved a white furrow through my son’s hair, commencing his journey towards baldness, I caught my breath as a surprising emotion powered, unrelenting, through my body.

‘You will go next,’ a hollow, unemotional voice explained, but leaving no room for argument.

They were the first words Annabelle had spoken. While I continued to caress her smooth scalp, her older companion began unravelling my ponytail with a triumphant smile.

I stood paralyzed, caught in the currents of choices made around me. My heart raced.

What was happening?

Would I follow down this new road?

I was not sure about anything anymore, except that my world was on the precipice of change.

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