Amelia Watches While Other Do, Part 2 – Continuation

Resumption

Through diligent research, I had discovered the air force base’s schedule for the enrolment of new recruits. I marked each such day in my diary for planning my return to observe their induction haircuts.

When the first of those days finally came, I made my way to the café. My heart was pounding with anticipation, combined with a mix of nerves and excitement.

I settled down at the same outside table at the café and watched another batch of young recruits file into Shauna’s Barbershop. I noted that one was a woman with surprisingly long hair. It was French braided tightly against her head, then secured at the nape, before finishing in a long plait down her back. I wondered if she had the forlorn hope that her preparations would save her hair from Shauna’s attention. Based on past observation, I was dubious, but I looked forward to finding out.

I watched with rapt attention as the first victim sat down. A grinning Shauna appeared by the window with hairclippers in her hand. She was wearing her usual tight white dress that clung to her figure, with her longish hair in an artfully messy half updo. I could not help but compare her loose and casual hairstyle with what she was about to inflict on the recruits in her care.

She nonchalantly glanced out the window and her eyes widened in recognition as she looked my way. I steadfastly focused my attention on the coffee cup before me. And employed all my self-control to prevent myself from reacting to her gaze.

I had debated dressing casually on this occasion as I had already set aside the entire day for my road trip. However, for reasons that I could not fathom, I had dressed in a pristine white blouse, and a tailored grey suit with a short pencil skirt. It was not the most comfortable of outfits. However, with my hair in its signature high ponytail, it defined the way I wanted to present myself to others. Or, more specifically, how I wanted to present myself to Shauna.

Returning to the task in hand, Shauna dramatically swept her clippers through the hair of the recruit, quickly stripping him of his locks. Another guy quickly followed him in the chair, and then another soon after. It was like a production line as Shauna churned out identical gleaming cue-balls.

I experienced a shortness of breath as I reacted to what I had been observing. The waitress noticed my behaviour and cast a curious glance in my direction. I smiled and waved a hand to indicate I was fine. However, she still looked puzzled as she slowly wandered back inside the café’s premises.

Diversity

Shauna had regularly aimed her playful smile towards me, and never more so that when the French braided woman finally sat in her chair. I had been concerned that the barber may have seen through my casual pretence of drinking coffee and uncovered my secret passion. That belief increased when she lifted her victim’s long plait and then looked pointedly in my direction. I could have sworn that she had locked her focus on my own much longer ponytail, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

Unlike the male recruits, she decided to speak to the woman. With the window between us I had no idea what she said. However, it resulted in the female recruit looking extremely worried and Shauna chuckling with laughter. She drove the blade of her hairclippers into the plaited section at her nape and, after a modest battle, the hair came away in her hand.

Shauna triumphantly held up the woman’s bound tresses, glanced over at me, then she dismissively tossed the plait onto her lap. Without further ado, the barber tugged at the French-braiding covering the woman’s head. Once it was sufficiently loose, she briskly sheared the remainder of her hair until her head gleamed like her fellow recruits. In minutes, the barber had stripped away her long-cultivated individuality, although the woman’s femininity still shone delightfully through.

With all the recruits sheared to Shauna’s satisfaction they marched out of her barbershop in the direction of the military base. Despite having tried to convince myself that the latest trip would not hold the same attraction as last time, I was wrong. The shearing session had been just as exciting, and I anticipated the next occasion with the same degree of enthusiasm.

As I drove home and attempted to place my odd actions in perspective, I accepted I was acting strangely. But I convinced myself it was just a hobby. A distraction. And, after all, it was not hurting anyone.

Resolution

As the months passed, whenever an enrolment was due to take place, I settled down with a coffee at my usual table. Each time, I attempted to convince myself that it should my last time, reasoning that there would be nothing new for me to see.

Contributing to my decision was the overly familiar waitress from the café. Maria was bringing my regular coffee order to my table soon after I arrived, just the way I liked it, without me even asking. She must have seen me taking an interest in the events across the precinct, so I worried that she would uncover my secret passion and expose me. When Maria began chatting with me on each visit like an old friend, I knew I should not return. But deep down, despite my resolution, I knew I would be back.

As I sipped my coffee and prepared myself for the latest “show”, a shadow suddenly crossed my table.

‘So, when are you popping in for your induction haircut?’ a seductive voice enquired.

To be continued

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