Tom
When I was young, I always hated the moment when my parents decided it was time to get a haircut. Although they seemed to choose a hair salon where I would feel a bit more comfortable, still I always tried to avoid haircuts. The most terrifying part was when my mother precisely explained a hairdresser how she wanted it cut. When the hairdresser was finished, she would ask my mother ‘short enough’ and half of the times she would say ‘no please make it a bit shorter’ with a grin on her face. The simple fact I had no say whatsoever the length or kind of haircut I received, I found embarrassing, so that’s why I started to avoid getting haircuts. The place my mother usually took me was a mixed salon, and the ladies who worked there were pretty and nice. When I became a bit older, I could go by myself and, I could at least tell the hairdresser what I wanted done. This changed when we moved to a different city…
It took a couple of weeks to settle in the new home. Fortunately, it was summertime so I could get out and get to know the new surroundings. Playing soccer in a small concrete court nearby, I even already made some new friends wo went to the same school I had been enlisted for as well. Most of the guys had short hair and as I had been able to avoid a haircut for almost 4 months, my appearance was clearly different. After a soccer match, I walked home with Peter, who was one of the more talented players. “Hey Tom, next week school starts, but do you know what the principal will do when she would see you like this? “. “Uhm, no. What do you mean?” “Well, she wants to keep hair of students in a certain standard. If students don’t meet the regulations, she will march them to Harvey’s Barbershop, and you certainly don’t want to end up in that barber’s chair with the principal instructing how short to cut your hair. That’s why we always make sure we go ourselves to a hair salon before school starts.” Tom looks a bit puzzled but as he is expert in avoiding haircuts, he thinks he will manage.
The next day Tom is having breakfast with his parents. His mother starts about his overdue haircut. “Tom, your hair is a mess. We received a letter from your new school Preston College that long hair is not permitted. All students must have short hair. They even have a school barber that offers services to meet the school standards. We presume you don’t want to end up there, do you? Yesterday we met our neighbours and fortunately one of our neighbours happens to be a hairdresser. She offered to cut your hair, and as she is such a nice lady, I booked you an appointment for this afternoon at 16.00. Make sure you will be there in time, else you will have no computer gaming for a month. The address is Carnaby street, number 14.“
The whole day Tom is having some nervous feeling in his stomach, as he really dislikes haircuts. Thinking about the limited options he has elsewhere, Tom decides to go for it and try the new neighbour. He certainly doesn’t want to anger is mother, or risk no computer gaming, so at 15.20 he arrives at Carnaby street so he can survey the situation. At number 14 a brown curtain is drawn closed over the bottom half of the front window. On top of the window, the name of the salon is written in curved red letters, and on the right a spinning pole is turning. Tom is a fairly small boy for his age and as he walks by the window again, due to his limited length, he cannot look over the closed curtain. He decides to cross the street and wait on a bench until it is his turn as he certainly doesn’t want to be in a hair salon too long.
At 15.25 a woman with a small kid of around 8 years old passes by and crosses the street. The boy says “Please mommy, can I go somewhere else, please, pleeease”. The mother says “Don’t make such a fuss.” She takes the boy by the hand and walks straight to the door next to the spinning pole. A bell tinkles, and they enter the shop. Tom feels sad for the little boy and understands his pleading because Tom knows the feeling of a mother dragging him to a hair salon all too well. Tom tries to relax in the sun and decides to buy a can of soda in the grocery shop across the street.
Meanwhile the time passes by. Tom is still enjoying his soda on the bench. It remains fairly quiet in Carnaby street. At 15.50 Tom knows it is time to cross the street and enter the hair salon. Before he opens the door, he takes a deep breadth. It cannot be so bad, I mean, the lady was nice according to mom. Tom thinks at least he will be able to say what kind of haircut he would get. He opens the door. As the bell tinkles a lady says “You must be Tom? Welcome to my shop. Your mother told me all about you. Please come in and have a seat in the waiting area.” He hears a ‘click’ followed by a buzzing sound.
On the right side of the shop a row of wooden waiting chairs is lined up. The mother of the little boy is sitting in the middle of the row of chairs with her legs crossed. After he closes the door, he walks to the waiting area. She smiles at Tom, saying “Good boy”. Tom is distracted by her so he doesn’t notice the interior, hesitates, and finally chooses to sit next to her on her left side.
While sitting on the chair Tom starts to take in the surroundings. The middle of the shop is dominated by a large barber’s chair. The bottom of the chair looks like a heavy enamel base with a foot pedal on the side. The chair has been raised to an elevated position and is almost fully covered by a large maroon cape. The tiny head of the boy he saw on the street is sticking out of the cape. Some kind of white tissue paper is bound around the boy’s collar, contrasting against the maroon-coloured cape. The fabric of the cape seems to be made of a vintage looking heavy shiny material. A tall pretty, black haired lady with red lipstick and a pair of large glasses perched on her nose has her hand firmly placed on the top of the boy’s head, while his head is being tilted forward. The maroon cape is full of the boy’s shorn clippings, and more hair is floating down the cape while the clippers clear a path over the boy’s backside. Piles of hair are surrounding the chair covering the black and white checkered floor. The stiletto boots of the lady rise above the hairs on the floor. When Tom stares through the large mirror in front of the chair, he can see the concentrated gaze of the lady focussing on moving the clippers up over the boy’s head. For a moment he catches eye contact with her, so he smiles at her. She returns Tom’s smile with a glance of disgust.
Although the barber’s chair is tilted towards the mirror, the boy in the chair is unable to see his reflection as his eyes are focused on the tufts raining down on the maroon cape, tumbling before him. The boy has watery eyes, sniffs his nose a couple of times, as if he had been crying before. Besides his head, his feet are the only visible body parts as his sneakers are dangling in the air 15 inch above the footplate of the chair. Tom feels sad for the poor boy, as it must feel humiliating to sit in this lady’s barber’s chair, caped and perched up so high in the air.
Tom looks at his watch: 16.00 hours. This is not a hair salon, is it? From the inside Tom is looking at the red curved letters on the window, which are difficult to read from the inside. The word ends with ‘y’s’, and then he notices ‘vey’s’ and starts with ‘Har’: Har-vey’s. Wasn’t Peter saying something about a barbershop called Harvey’s? Fortunately, the lady barber seems to be running late, so he should have plenty of time to devise a plan to get out of here. After a couple of minutes shearing Tom notices the white skin of the boy’s back head started to appear through the remaining stubbles of hair remaining, and the clippers are switched off.
Through the mirror she looks at Tom: “Sorry my dear, I am running late as Miss Parker wanted me to go shorter.” Simultaneously, with a smile on her face, the lady barber spins the chair around facing the window, leaving Tom and the boy’s mother with a view from the side. The clippers are adjusted to a different setting. With her red manicured index finger the pretty lady barber presses down the poor boy’s left ear. “Keep still, my dear” as she switches on the clippers. As she keeps on folding down his ear, the clippers mow over the sides and more skin starts to appear.
Tom finally has an idea to get out of this place. He could use the delay in her schedule as a reason to sneak out, saying he could come back another time, and meanwhile visit a normal hair salon. He should use perfect timing in order to succeed, so finally when she shuts down the clippers and spins the chair to position for the right side, Tom takes the gamble. “Miss Harvey, you are running late, so shall we make a different appointment? I need to leave at 16.30 to play a soccer match. Shall we postpone?”
Annoyed she counters: “My name is Rebecca, Harvey is my fathers name. Your mother told me to get your haircut as your school starts next week and I have rather a busy schedule this week, so no room left.” Miss Parker intervened and asked: “Shall I call his mother to check what she wants?” “Ah that is a wonderful idea, thank you so much”, says Rebecca, while folding down the boy’s right ear and turning on the clippers again. ”Tell her I have plenty of time today, only one appointment after her son.”
“Hello, this is Patricia Parker, I am here with Rebecca and your son. She is running late and your son says he needs to go to a soccer match. What do you want to do? No, she has plenty of time. OK, yes indeed, he is sitting next to me. No official soccer match? Which school? OK, we will take care of this, no worries. No, you don’t need to come over. Byebye.” The boy’s mother starts laughing and turns to Tom “Well now, as I already suspected, you are making this all up. Your mother tells me you tend to avoid having haircuts, just like my own son. I am kind of experienced with kids avoiding unwanted haircuts, you know, so I could tell. So now I promised your mother I will only leave this shop after you have been seated in Rebecca’s barber’s chair.”
Tom is embarrassed, his cheeks start to blush. What did he get into now? A mother of a boy is taking charge in a barbershop for Tom to get a haircut. That is probably the worst scenario he could imagine, so he swallows and looks defeated to the floor. Should he just get up and run out of here?
Too late. Tom hadn’t noticed meanwhile the lady barber had finished the boy’s haircut. She was dusting off hairs from his neck with a pink fluffy hair duster. “Short enough, Patricia?” Patricia said: “Yes it looks great.” The cape was unfastened and Tom heard the snaps pop open one by one. The barberette unwrapped a white tissue from his neck and threw it on the floor. The boy looked happy, as if he was able to breathe freely again. After peeling off the cape Tom notices the boy had been sitting on a booster seat. It is made of a steel frame, containing a large square black leather cushion. A leather flap is hanging down from the booster seat over the front of the chair to prevent dirt from children’s shoes spoiling the leather seat of the barber’s chair. The sides of the booster are solidly resting over the arms of the barber’s chair, to create some type of high seat.
Next, Rebecca lowers the barber’s chair with the foot pedal. The maroon cape is shaken out and folded over the back of the chair, ready for use on its next victim. “What do you say to the nice lady, Billy?” He says, “Thank you, Miss”, and climbs out of the chair. Tom is starting to feel sick as he knows it will be his turn. He discovers there is also a normal looking black haircutting cape hanging on a hook. Hopefully she will use the black cape as Billy looked rather silly wrapped in the shiny maroon cape. To Tom’s relief the barber lady is removing the booster seat and hangs it on the wall in a holder. At least she won’t treat me like a little kid, Tom thinks. “How much will that be, Rebecca?” The barberette walks to the counter and says: “for Billy’s haircut that will be 20 bucks”. Rebecca takes a broom and starts sweeping away Billy’s hairs to a hole in the floor. “Can we leave now?”, Billy says. His mother tells him “No” and to sit on a chair in the waiting area. She folds her arms across her chest and intently stares at Tom. She seems to be having the time of her life without saying a word. Meanwhile, the lady barber picks up the maroon cape and drapes it on a hook. She takes the black cape and as she shakes it with a light rustling sound, she says “Next boy please.” Tom quickly walks to the barber’s chair. “O, wow. You are much smaller than I thought”, as she puts away the black cape. Wait a moment please.”
As Tom stands next to the barber’s chair, the lady barber walks to the wall and takes the booster seat out of the holder. Totally surprised and agitated Tom says: “You don’t have to use that. I am 12 years old and surely not going to sit in that seat.” Rebecca ignores him and puts the booster over the arms of the chair, draping the leather flap over the front of the chair. “I am not going to injure my back to give a little boy a haircut. Please be seated.”
Billy’s mother dislikes Tom’s stance and decides to step in. “Tom, your mother will be furious if she hears you behave like this, so get in the chair, now!” Tom slowly makes his way to the chair and climbs in the booster seat. Sitting on the highchair Tom feels exposed, and with his feet dangling in the air, he feels vulnerable and helpless. Next the barberette walks straight to the maroon cape and shakes it with a rustling sound. She tells Patricia: “This cape I have been using for years when I was a marine barber. It is large enough to cover the whole chair including booster seat. It was handmade in the 80s and still functions after all these years, which is really amazing. I only replaced the closing mechanism with press studs to be able to close it properly around small necks. The modern capes perhaps last a couple of years. Children usually don’t like the vintage look of this cape, but I use that by rewarding little boys with the more they behave and sit quietly, the faster they will be freed of the cape.“ As she drapes it over him, he feels it is quite a heavy cape that seems to pin him down to the chair. With a smile she says: “We don’t want to have these nasty clippings on your clothes or on my chair, do we?“ Taking a piece of neck tissue from a dispenser on the wall she says: “Chin up”. Tom thinks it is better not to struggle anymore so he puts his chin up. When the barberette wraps the paper strip around his neck, it feels restricted, which Rebecca notices. “Not used to the barber’s chair, are you? Are you a salon boy?” With a grin on her face, she shuts the cape tightly around his neck by closing the press studs. Lastly, she folds the paper neck tissue around the collar of the cape sealing it perfectly. Tom can hardly breathe. “My dear, if you sit still and behave, I can turn a man out of you rather quickly. Let’s get this over with quickly.” Slowly the barberette pumps the chair to the desired level. “So, Patricia, what will we be doing today?” Billy’s mother walks to the chair and starts to finger his hair. “Do you know he is going to Preston College next week, Rebecca? With a broad smile she says: “His mother told me. So, let’s make it nice and short.”
The barberette finds this rather amusing. “Well now, the principal of Preston College is my dear friend Cassandra. Any boys who have excessive hair, she marches to my shop for an ultra short buzzcut to teach the boys a lesson. Also, boys who misbehave might find themselves end up in my chair, for punishment haircuts. Coincidentally I expect her to arrive shortly with 3 boys who have been caught drinking beers in school after a sports event in pre-season. “
With a click the clippers are turned on and her hand pushes Tom’s head forward. “A Preston College boy’s cut coming up!” With his chin touching the maroon cape Tom can only look down at the shiny material of the cape seeing his hairs fall down, sliding onto the floor. “We need to move on”, Patricia says. “Enjoy your haircut, Tom.” Billy and his mother walk to the door and leave the shop.
Methodically Tom is being shorn like a sheep, no other words could describe it better. After a couple of minutes, he starts to feel sweaty because of the non-breathable fabric of the cape. The lady barber seems not to be in a hurry, though. After ten minutes Rebecca turns the chair to start on his sides, when suddenly the doorbell rings. “Hello Cassandra, how are you doing?” A stern looking lady with short blonde hair wearing tall leather boots enters the shop, accompanied by three boys. Rebecca says: “Welcome boys. Please be seated. I am running late because of two difficult boys.” The clippers are switched on again and Tom receives the same treatment around his ears as Billy. Rebecca folds down his left ear, which is a bit painful. Pass after pass, his sides are shorn. Slowly Tom starts to become more uncomfortable as the heavy fabric of the cape doesn’t ventilate, causing sweat to drop from his armpits. Meanwhile Cassandra is admiring the show unfolding in front of her. With a smirk on her face, she asks Tom: “Did your mother send you here?” Tom said “Yes, she did.” Cassandra: “I love mothers who send her kids to Harvey’s. Best place in town to get a good cut.”
To the boys waiting she says: “Let’s be crystal clear. I brought you to Harvey’s to receive a punishment haircut, which will be ultra short, no matter what. If you behave and sit quietly, you will be treated as adults. If you choose not to cooperate, you will be seated on the booster seat like this boy. The choice is up to you.” The three boys were looking concerned at the scenery in front of them and chose to remain quiet. Meanwhile, Cassandra and Rebecca were exchanging chit chats as if this was business as usual. Tom feels embarrassed to be seated like this in front of his schoolmates.
Finally, the clippers are switched off, and Rebecca walks around the chair admiring her work. Tom sees through the mirror she left his hair a bit longer than Billy’s, but it has still been cut extremely short. It has never been so short before, he starts to blush. The lady barber opens the snaps of the horrible cape and dusts off the stranded hairs. The paper neck tissue is thrown on the floor. Tom feels relieved to be able to breathe normally again. He is happy some fresh air is flowing again over his body. Cassandra asks the waiting boys: “OK, who of you will be first?” None of the boys responds and they look down on the floor. “No volunteer?” While Rebecca lowers the chair, she says “This is Tom, he starts next week at your school, Cassandra. He tried to escape his haircut by lying to me about having to play a soccer match.” Cassandra stands up and walks to the barber’s chair. “Well now, Tom, did you lie?” Tom thought let’s not lie again so he said “Yes, sorry Miss”. Cassandra checked the length of his hair. “I think it needs to be shorter, much shorter.”
With a devilish grin, Rebecca started to pump up the barber’s chair again. With every stomp of her boots on the pedal, Tom’s body was shaking. When he reaches the desired level, Rebecca says: “Chin up”. Tom complies. As a long strip of neck tissue is being attached to his neck, he starts pleading: “Could you please use the other cape, the black one? It was so hot under the cape. Please, Miss?” The lady barber looks annoyed at Tom, takes the maroon cape, and shakes it out with a loud rustling sound. “Sit still and be quiet, else I will shear you completely bald.” One of the kids on the bench feels sorry for Tom and starts to speak up: “You cannot do this without his mother’s permission; you have to check with his mother.” With a smile Cassandra says: “Well done Rick, you have earned yourself a place on the booster seat. You will be up first. Please proceed, Rebecca.”
