Lira1802
When you get to the age of 42, you think you’ve seen everything but, alas, life can still through you a curveball once in a while. I live in pretty small town: in the backwoods basically. There’s a decent sized old-order Amish community on the outskirts of town. They’re nice people but they don’t like to be bothered much and keep to themselves unless they need something from town. As the years have gone by, an Amish man would occasionally bring his boys down to my shop for a haircut when the Mrs. was out of town. One day, he brought his little girl along and introduced me to little Abigail. She would watch attentively as I cut her brothers’ hair into the perfect bowlcut. When I done with the boys, she would jump on up into my chair and expect me to give the same haircut but her father would always pick her and explain to her that she was a girl and only boys got haircuts. To me, it’s criminal to deny a child a haircut based on sex but I digress. Little Abigail would leave my shop disheartened that she didn’t get her hair cut like her brothers.
Fast forward to my forty-second year on earth. I was doing alright as a senior barber for my town. One day, I saw from my barbershop’s window that a horse and buggy was crossing the bridge that lead into town. I recognized Abigail in the passenger seat of the buggy. Another young lady was driving the buggy so expertly and the two parked their vehicle in the alleyway beside my establishment. I could hear the two giggling as they secured their steeds and collected their bearings to enter my shop.
Abigail had grown up so much since the last time I had seen her. Although she was taller and more mature, she had the eyes and smile of a curious, little girl. Those eyes twinkled at me as she waltzed into my barbershop, making sure her friend came in as well, and walked up to me.
”Hey, Matt”,she smiled, giving me a shy wave,”Are you open?”
”Of course”,I returned a smile and dusted off the seat with my hand,”I suppose you want a haircut, eh”
”Yes”,she nodded as she eagerly took a seat in my chair,”Father let me borrow the buggy and he doesn’t know I’m here so it’s the best time to get a haircut”
“Who’s your friend”,I asked, pointing with my chin to the young lass with a head of black hair who sat daintily on the waiting bench.
”That’s Mary”,Abigail explained,”Honestly, I can’t believe she was willing to drive me here with no questions asked”
”She must be a real good friend”,I remarked as I turned the chair towards the mirror.
”She really is”,Abigail nodded as she undid her religious Bonnet and slipped it off her head of sun-dried, carroty hue. Without her covering, Abigail’s face was shining. She did have freckles and unaligned teeth but her smile shone brightly and she was happy. Her hands started to undo her bun and braid. It all fell down quickly and nearly reached the floor.
“Whoo”,I awed,”That’s some hair. So, what do you want to do today?”
”I’ve given it a lot of thought”,Abigail breathed,”And I want to get my hair cut into a horseshoe flattop”
”Heh”,I chuckled,”You think you can handle that”
”Yes”,was her unwavering response.
”Alright”,I nodded. My hands gathered up all her hair to put into a ponytail. Securing the tail, I pumped up the chair. With no fuss, I grabbed my scissors and started to snip off the ponytail. Abigail closed her eyes and savored the moment and seemed relieved when the braid came loose and gave way to the scissors.
She looked at that long rope of strands and smiled when I put it down on the counter in front of her. Her head started to turn this way and that so freely. I removed the cape from the wall as she began to bounce her bobbed hair in her hands. The cape was flipped and flung on her body in order to snugly wrap it around her neck.
No one could deny her anticipation for the next part. I took up my clippers and paired them with a comb. Its hum seemed to scare Abigail but she quickly got over her apprehension and bounced in her seat like an excitable child. When I told her to sit still, she quickly stopped bouncing but was still excited for me to continue.
I worked dutifully, shaping the haircut and removing the bulk from Abigail’s head. The clippers soon touched skin and I could see goosebumps forming on Abigail’s neck. The shape of the flattop was realized. I started to refine the haircut and clean up the back and sides, barely leaving any stubble visible. With the top, I started to level the hair to a quarter of an inch and cocked Abigail’s head back to make a cove opening in her scalp. She lowered her head when I said and looked my work over. Her hair was short and tidy. I came round the chair and adjusted her head while lowering the chair somewhat to make sure the haircut was level.
Abigail looked good and so I switched off the clippers and put them away. I dusted her off with a fine-bristled brush. She laughed as the bristles tickled her face. I also chuckled and lowered the chair.
