Agrestis
When Evan inherited his late godfather’s teardrop camper and lost his job just as his lease was ending, he took it as a sign to pursue a change of scenery. He packed up and took off in the vague direction of his hometown where his mom and old friends were overdue for a visit. He had a short list of sites to see along the way but no solid itinerary. After several days of bouncing between famous caves and waterfalls, there was nowhere left to go but home.
Waking up at a sparsely appointed campground just a few hours from his mom’s house, Evan found himself in remarkably little hurry to get anywhere. He spent another day idly reading and playing guitar by a stream. When he discovered he could charge his devices at a covered picnic area a short walk down the road, he had even fewer reasons to leave. On the second afternoon, Evan decided he at least ought to drive to cell service and check his messages. That’s when the sound of his truck failing to start shattered his newly cultivated inner peace.
A little too settled in his solitude, Evan hastily tied back his neglected hair and changed into his cleanest shirt before approaching fellow campers for assistance. He learned the courtesy was probably unnecessary, considering his neighbors were barely clothed at all. At the next occupied site, Evan met a slim pale man wearing only tattered black cargo shorts and what looked like a dog collar. Evan had met his share of eccentric characters by now, but was still a little startled by the man’s striking white torso and short red hair catching a beam of sunlight.
“Excuse me…” Evan cleared his throat and spoke aloud for the first time in over a day. “Sorry, my truck won’t start. I need a jump.”
“Don’t be sorry dear,” a woman’s musical voice told him from a hammock a few feet away. Evan made brief and unintentionally intense eye contact with the occupant as he forbade his eyes from looking anywhere at her. Even with his peripheral vision, there was no mistaking the presence of a truly singular physique. He found a woman his own age calling him “dear,” a little strange but abandoned the thought when she abruptly continued, “Sam, get the portable jump starter from the blue crate… please love.” Her demand was weirdly authoritative until the last second. Evan found her shifting tone strange until he reasoned it might have something to do with the collar the man was wearing. He contained a smirk while Sam rifled through their crossover.
Before long, Sam handed Evan a device and said, “Bring it back when you’re done.” All the while, the woman never took her eyes off the interloper. Feeling inexplicably shy, Evan felt relieved that they were able to help without moving their car or spending any more time in his company.
“Do you know how to use it??” she asked.
“Yes,” Evan answered defensively, only a little emasculated. “Thank you,” he added with a forced smile before his ego made him forget his manners.
“Caroline.”
“Evan,” he nodded. “Thank you Caroline… and Sam,” he completed with a little salute in a hurry to end the awkwardness.
About thirty exasperated minutes later, hunched over the open hood of his truck, Evan heard footsteps. He peered through sweaty hair that had escaped his ponytail to find Caroline emerging from the trees. She was taller than she had seemed laying down. Her crop top and cutoff jeans shorts elongated her even more. Avoiding her gaze and her body, Evan forced himself to focus on the bouncing ringlets of light brown hair spilling out from under a tie dye bandana.
“Everything alright?” she asked upon reaching earshot.
“Oh, yeah. I thought the battery was dead but the uh… terminals are corroded. It’s fine, just a pain in the ass,” he explained, gripping a wire brush.
“Do you need anything else?”
“No, I’ve got it handled,” he insisted as he clumsily attempted to sweep hair out of his eyes with his whole forearm.
A few months earlier, a bored barber insisted on layers that Evan had grown to despise. He eagerly anticipated the day when all of his shoulder length mane could reach a hair tie again. He also didn’t appreciate how the quasi-wolfcut made him look like someone trying to seem cooler and younger than he was, unbefitting his minimalist ethos.
Caroline giggled at the gesture sending a pang of embarrassment down Evan’s spine. As reparation, she removed her bandana and offered it to him. “Here.”
He steeled himself as the sweet scent of her loosened locks wafted up his nose and straight to the brain. “Uhh…” he muttered, glancing between the bandana and his gloved hands, sullied by grease and battery acid.
“Of course, my bad. I got you.” Caroline set down the soda she was drinking and plucked the useless hair tie from his head. Dark tendrils fell free, sticking to his reddened cheeks. She raked her fingers through his hair, setting the neurons below ablaze. She teased apart a tangle in her way, gently at first, then impatiently.
“Ow,” he winced, feeling suddenly lucid.
“I don’t know why guys bother with long hair if they can’t take care of it…” she mumbled disapprovingly.
He frowned, scoffed, and defensively retorted, “I do… but I’ve been camping over a week.”
She shrugged and rebutted, “Same, but I manage.” He couldn’t deny that. With a tender pat she added, “Sorry… I’m just teasing.”
“It’s okay,” he assuaged as she snugly fastened the scarf to his head. He had to admit it was a needed improvement and earnestly thanked her.
She leaned back, sipped from her soda, and held it out to him. “Try this.” He furrowed his brow skeptically at the can, thinking she meant for him to drink it. “For the battery,” she clarified. Sure enough, a splash of soda loosened the crust. Once the engine started, she took the jump starter and left him to resume his errand with a polite and vaguely flirtatious farewell.
Accustomed to having the trailer in tow, he was uneasy about the physics of driving without it, like a piece was missing. On his way back to camp, feeling self conscious about his unkempt condition, Evan made a detour to the visitor center to use the nicer showers there. He spent more time than he normally would conditioning and combing his hair.
Back at camp, he settled into bed refreshed, unsure of his plans and unable to sleep. He puzzled over whether or not Caroline had meant to flirt with him despite being there with another man. Was there some sort of signal he missed? Had he already ruined his shot? Did they want to have a threesome? Was this a cuck thing? Wondering if he’d be into that, he produced her bandana from his pocket and held it to his nose. When the thought wouldn’t let him rest, he sleepily jerked off to a choir of crickets.
In the morning, he fiddled with the bandana and wondered if he was expected to return it. He was soon however horrified to find a small splotch of crusty residue on it. Utterly disgusted with himself, he thought about just driving off immediately. Worried it might be something sentimental, he decided washing it was worth a try. After a few minutes of scrubbing in a bathroom sink down by the pavilion, he was pretty satisfied with his effort. He then posted up with his guitar at a picnic table by the power outlet so he could charge his laptop.
Before long, he heard Caroline and Sam approaching. Perhaps his secret charging spot wasn’t so secret. Evan tensed and stopped strumming as they politely greeted him.
“Don’t you clean up nice,” she remarked.
“Thanks,” Evan replied guardedly, looking at Sam who didn’t seem fazed.
“What happened there?” she asked, gesturing at the wet bandana drying out on the table next to him. Evan willed every muscle in his face not to convey the dread he felt.
“I didn’t want to return it all sweaty,” he answered nonchalantly.
“How sweet. Do you mind if we use the outlet?” she asked, unraveling a bundle in her hands to reveal a corded set of clippers.
“Go right ahead.” Evan readied himself to leave.
“Stay,” she barked coldly.
Wide-eyed, he froze.
Caroline laughed softly at her own misstep. “I meant… don’t stop on our behalf. Sorry to sound so demanding.”
“It’s all good.”
“That’s of course… unless you’re into that sort of thing,” she suggested demurely.
Evan laughed uncomfortably, looking again at Sam who remained unbothered.
“Don’t mind him. He’s not the jealous type. Are you dear?” Caroline implored with a tender caress of the ginger man’s fuzzy skull.
“No ma’am,” Sam groaned compliantly, savoring the sensation.
The tall woman turned her attention back to Evan, “So are you? Into that sort of thing?”
“That’s a… pretty personal question,” Evan stammered only a little incredulously. This new tact made him feel both uncomfortably on-the-spot and validated that he hadn’t imagined her flirting yesterday.
“We’re friends now,” she shrugged.
He smiled. “Well I guess… I can’t say I mind it.”
She playfully mocked his hesitant cadence “Well I guess…” before confidently asserting, “You’re going to stay and play something for us.”
Curious to see where this was going, Evan could only manage to laugh, nod, and resume playing.
The acoustic medley of alt rock deep cuts from the 90s was joined by the whir of clippers. Caroline methodically reduced what little hair Sam had to a rosy stubble. The musician glanced up occasionally at the other man’s beatific expression and felt happy for the guy who seemed exactly where he belonged.
When she was done, Caroline took a seat on the bench beside her partner who laid his shaved head in her lap. She stroked it the way a supervillain would stroke a hairless cat. Evan continued to play for a few minutes until reaching a natural conclusion.
Caroline broke the ensuing silence, gesturing at Evan with the clippers. “Your turn?”
He sputtered and shook his shaggy head. “No ma’am. I don’t think so.”
“Come on, I thought it was such a hassle to take care of out here?”
“I’m going home tomorrow.”
“Sure you are dear… But what if I’m not asking?” she countered.
“That would be… interesting. But why exactly?”
“Because I said so.”
“Sure… but if I may be so bold… ma’am… what would be the point?” he stammered.
She stood up and sauntered to his side. His heart fluttered as she loomed and lifted a lock of hair off his scalp. She brought her face closer to his ear and whispered, “I want you to remember me loooong after I’m done with you,” sliding her fingers down the silky length.
An involuntary wheeze gave way to a fit of nervous laughter. Evan finally verbalized, “Can’t argue with that.”
“Sit.” She gestured at an empty seat at another table within reach of the tether. Sam hit a vape and placidly let the scene unfold. When Evan didn’t move, she asked with palpable sincerity, “Do you trust me?”
“I… don’t know you,” he warily reminded her.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” she retorted.
White knuckling the neck of his guitar, he considered this, nodded meekly, and obliged her request to relocate. A mere moment later she passed the roaring clippers over his head, casting off any remaining doubts. Dark tufts tickled him on their way to the ground. She kicked at the growing pile and remarked, “I bet the birds will like this for their nests.”
The next day, the trailer rattled reassuringly behind Evan as he gripped the steering wheel with one hand and touched his raspy scalp with the other. He couldn’t help himself, as if his hair would have grown back when he wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t completely hate the look. His head shape was fine. He could almost pretend it was all slicked back when he squinted, if it weren’t for the distinct shade of gray. It was a little severe for his taste but oddly freeing and well worth the previous night’s activities. He reminded himself that he’d have a decently dark shadow within a week. Maybe he’d rejoin society then, he thought as he passed the exit to his mom’s house.
