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Buzzed at the barber shop ….. Next Sarurday
By JimB ©opyright May 2016
When the rodeo was over, I asked Aunt Bernie about the Allen girl’s.
All she said, “Didn’t see them. Nor, their parents.”
The ride back to her home was slow. Neither said any thing to the other.
A little short of her home she pulled into a service station, for gas and a few things.
She reached in her purse and took out her card.
“You go in and pay”, she told me handing me the card.
“Tell Carl, pump two.
“Get your self something to much on and a soft drink. One for me, too.”
I looked at her. She had a little smile,
“What do you want to munch on”, I inquired of her.
“No thanks,’ she replied and continued pumping gas. “I have some sponge Miss Jackson gave last week.
“Not enough for both of us.”
When I entered the store I got myself some chips and two cokes. I looked to see there anything else I could get, instead of chips.
When I reached the counter there was no one there.
“Hello”, I called. “Anyone here ….. CARL”.
“Be with you in a minute”, came the voice of a male from the back room.
I placed the cokes on the counter and I looked around. This service station did not look any we had back home.
No photos of people in fishing boats, no gators, no lake pictures.
Just rolls and rolls of products for sale. Lots of bottles of alcohols and tobacco products.
There was a strand with newspapers and magazine. But, not like back home.
Was I getting home sick!
“Hi, what can I do for you”, the voice asked.
I turned and my heart jumped.
My hands dropped the chips and when to cover my head.
I mean he was a hansom boy, a little older then I am.
Not like the boys back home.
“You must be Miss Bernie’s god-daughter?” he ask.
All I could do, say was, “YEP”.
“I see you made a visit to Mr. Paul”, he asked as he point to my head, with my hand covering the hair cut.
I just shook my head “yes” and fumbled in my pocket for Aunt Bernie’s credit card.
“She on pump two”, I told him as I handed him the card. “We’ll be charging these”.
My left hand come off my head, revealing how short my hair was cut and pushing the cokes and chips.
“See you got a Paul’s special for teenage girls,”, he commented pointing to my head.
“Bet you the price of the cokes, he asked Miss Bernie if she wanted you get the “ALLEN girls cut?”
I looked at him surprised. He knew about the Allen girls!
“Her did”, I told him. “But, she said not now.”
He rang up the sale and handed me the card back.
“Sign Miss Bernie’s name”, he told me. “Put your initials behind it.”
He put the chips in a plastic bags, something we don’t have much of back home.
I picked the cokes with my fingers, like we do back home, took the plastic bag with the chips from him.
I started to walked away but turned back to him ……
“Who are the Allen girls”, I asked him, “And, what kind of hair cut did they get …..
“Get from Mr. Paul!”
He looked at me and smiled, “See you next time Miss Bernie comes for gas”!
I smiled and walked away, still not finding out who the Allen girls were and what kind of hair cut Mr. Paul gave them.
“You and Carl had a talk?” Aunt Bernie inquired.
I smiled and shook my head “yes”.
“He’s twenty-two”, she told me. “Don’t go thinking anything.
“Or, I might have to straighten you out more.”
We got up early the next morning, Tuesday.
Aunt Bernie had the day planned.
First she would ride me around her property. Showing me where I would be doing what.
We rode by a small pond she called a “retention pond”.
“And, don’t think about taking a dip”, she told me. “The animals mess ends up in there.
“Can’t have you coming home all smelly like animal crap”.
For some strange reason, I still cannot understand. I took to doing the work she gave me to do.
Friday morning, at breakfast, she commented how well I was doing.
“How about Saturday morning!” I asked her, hope she would change her mind.
“You’re still going to Mr. Paul and a touch up.” she told me. “I am going to mine cut, too.”
I put my hands to my head and brushed my over it. The hair did not feel any longer than it was after Monday’s visit and haircut.
“Will I be wearing these”, I asked her, pulling on what I had on.
“No, of course not”, she replied. “While you were out doing your chores I made a quick run to Mage’s and got you a nice cream color blouse and light brown skirt.”
“And, shoes,” I sapped back.
She turned form the sink and stared at me.
“Four inch stilettoes”, she replied. “Ladies do not wear boots and tennis shoes when the get their hair cut.
“We dress up like ladies, not boys and men.”
That said, she told me where she was bringing me and what I would be doing.
Again she reminded about taking a swim in the retention pond.
Friday there was light rain, “The ground is wet, so you will not be doing much.”
Saturday morning came. As usual the alarm clock did not ring until eight.
Back home I would be up, had breakfast, and out on the shrimp boat with my Uncle Ted.
When I entered the kitchen, I was stunted.
Aunt Bernie was putting the plates on the table. She looked up at me with a smile.
“Something wrong.” She asked as she stood up straight and I could see her better.
“Aunt Bernie …..,” I could hardly get the words out.
“You look …..
“Your wearing a lovely light grayish blouse, matching skirt ….
“Four inch stilettoes match your skirt.
“And, your make-up is WOW.”
“Thank you Terri,” she replied as she did a little twirl to show me more.
I could not believe this was the woman who treated like she did this pass week.
“Turn around,” she said to me. “Let me see the young lady!”
I slowly turned around and did a little curacy.
“You’re make-up needs a little ……”, she said to me as she walked to the stove. “We’ll take this afternoon off and I will show you some tricks.”
We sat chatting a little, about her life, why she owned this little farm.
She looked at the clock on the wall over the sink, what a place to put a clock.
“Come on,” she said. “We don’t want to be took late.”
As we walked to her car, I had to ask.
“Aunt Bernie,” I asked. “Who are the Allen girls?”
She stopped, “Unless you do not continue changing …….”
In about an hour we arrived at Paul’s Barbershop.
“Paul will be waiting for us,” she said, motioning into the barbershop.
As we entered the barbershop, “We look like two lovely ladies!”
“Paul,”, Aunt Bernie said to him.
“Bernie and Terri”, he said back.
“Mr. Paul,” I replied as I started to take a seat in a waiting chair.
“No, Terri,” Aunt Bernie said to me then motioning and pointing to Mr. Paul’s barber chair.
I walked to the barber chair and lady like took a seat. I crossed my legs as Mr. Paul caped me.
“Bernie”, he asked looking at her.
She smiled. She looked at me.
She winked at Mr. Paul and gave him a little knop.
I was looking at Aunt Bernie when I head “click” with a humming sound. I knew for last Monday he had the clippers and I was going get the same cut.
I sat smiling.
Mr. Paul was standing on the right side of the barber chair. I looked up and noticed my self in the mirrors over the waiting chairs.
I could see my self. He didn’t turn the chair away like Monday.
Well, I will be seeing him clipper my hair. I wondered why!
My hair had not grown any, at lease a just a little, since then.
I looked Aunt Bernie and she was smiling. But, it was not the smile she gave me this morning.
It was the same smile she had given Mr. Paul, just a few minutes ago.
He looked at her and said, “Bernie”.
He raised the humming clippers in front of my right ear. Slowly, like Monday, he pushed the clippers up the side of my head.
He moved it high then pulled it away and placed at an angel and slowly pushed it back over my ear.
It was then my eyes caught site of hair. Hair …..
Short hair, shorter than I had washed this morning.
I could see my scalp.
Aunt Bernie was smiling.
I did not act up this last week. I did as I was told.
I looked in the mirror and saw more of what hair I had being removed from my head. More of my scalp showed.
My head was tilted as he pushed the clippers up the back of my nape and head. I could feel the coolness of the air conditioner more than I did Monday.
He was working the clippers up behind my left ear. I watched in the mirror as the clippers came forward behind my left ear.
Then, standing on the left side of the barber chair, he raised the clippers to the top of my head and slowly pushed it back over my head. Behind the pass I could see my scalp.
Walking around behind the barber chair he brushed his left hand over buzzed scalp.
Standing of the right side of the barber chair he placed the clippers on the top of my head and in a few passed all my hair, what hair I had, was gone.
The clippers were turned off and hung under the shelf. I head running water and saw him take a towel, from the pile of towels on the shelf, and toss it into the sink of running water.
I looked Aunt Bernie and she was smiling. A bigger smile!
The feeling of wet warmth touched the back of my head, as my eyes looked into the mirror seeing Mr. Paul wrapping the warm wet towel around my head.
He let it sit as he turned and walked to the shelf and I heard a winding sound as he stood by it.
When he stepped to the right side of the barber chair I saw it was shaving lather.
My heart jumped into my throat. I tried to ask, but I could not.
He removed the warm wet towel and tossed in on the shelf.
Slowly he began spreading the shaving lather along my hairline, like he did Monday.
Reaching in his shirt pocket he, he removed the straight razor and began sharping it on the leather strap.
Letting it fall, he raised the straight razor and began taking short stroked alone the hairline like he did Monday.
I took a breath. I watched in the mirrors as he worked his way behind my head and to the left side of my head.
Finished, he reached for the still wet towel he tossed on the shelf and began wiping the excess shaving lather from my hairline.
Again, like Monday, he put some sweet smelling powder on the hair duster and dusted my head and face. Removing the cape, the barber chair was lowered.
When it stopped I stood and stepped from it. I smiled at Aunt Bernie.
She smiled back and stood.
I placed my hands on my head and felt very short hair stubbles. It felt funny but nice in a way.
I was still standing looking at my self in the mirror. I tuned my head side to side.
For some strange reason I liked this hair cut.
I looked again and saw Aunt Bernie sitting in the barber chair. She and Mr. Paul were talking.
I turned and sat in the same waiting chair she did, as she watched my hair cut.
After getting comfortable I looked up at Aunt Bernie.
Mr. Paul was standing behind the barber chair.
“CLICK”, the humming sound, I had heard twice this week.
He pushed Aunt Bernie’s head down, the sound of the humming clippers changed to a cutting sound.
A sound I had heard twice this week.
I watched, as Aunt Bernie watched, her short grayish hair slid down into the cape.
I watched as he pulled the clippers from her the back of her head. He had pushed it high up the back of her head, like he just did mine.
Stepping slightly to the right then the left he pushed clippers up high then pulling it away.
Stepping to the left side of the barber chair he placed the clippers in the center of her head and slowly pushed it back over her head.
She was smiling a big smile and he began another pass over her head. With all her hair buzzed off, he walked behind the barber chair brushing his left hand over her buzzed head.
She smiled with her eyes closed.
Standing on the right side of the barber chair he slowly removed her grayish hair from her head.
When he turned the clippers off her hair was as short as mine.
He hung it under the shelf with his left hand, as his right hand removed a towel, from the pile of towels, and tossed into the sink of warm running water.
Ringing it out he turned and wrapped it around her head, like he did mine.
Stepping to the shaving dispenser he let a small pile of shaving lather grow in his left hand.
Standing on the right side of the barber chair, he removed the towel, tossing it on the shelf.
Then, began spreading the shaving lather along her hairline, like he had done me twice this week.
A few strokes over the leather strap and he had his straight razor shaving a small line alone her hairline.
Finished, he dusted her head and face. As he lowered the barber chair Aunt Bernie raised her hands to her head and slowly moved them over her head.
When the barber chair stopped I stood and took a few steps toward it. Aunt Bernie was still brushing her fingers over her buzzed head.
As she stepped from the barber chair, she said, “Been awhile since I felt this.”
“Sure has Bernie”, she replied as he flowed the cape and hung it over the right armrest.
I looked at her with a “what” looked.
“On the house”, he told her before she could take her purse from me.
“Not even a tip.”
I wanted to ask her but she motioned me to the door.
The End ?????. By JimB ©opyright May 2016