Kim looked at Ashley briefly before saying, “I’ll go get the keys,” and she disappeared up the stairs.
I sat there, trying to not lose my cool. I hadn’t yelled yet, and I was working hard at maintaining my composure. I didn’t look at Ashley, and I suspected that she wasn’t looking at me, either. My head was burning with fury, my muscles were tensed, and my teeth were clenched, but I was calming. I knew Ashley wasn’t going to cut my hair now. I was also fairly certain that she knew her game was finished. She had pushed too far too soon, and now her fun was over. I wondered without looking if she was about to cry.
Kim returned with the key and my clothes, and quickly uncuffed me, freeing my hands first. Once I was free, I sat there for a few moments, getting ready to make my move.
I stood up, took a deep breath and said, “Give me the clippers.” Kim had set the bag down on the counter. She reached for it and handed it to me directly as Ashley looked on. “Okay, bring me a mirror.”
Ashley and Kim looked at each other, looking as if I’d just spoken to them in another language. “It’s okay, just bring me a mirror.” Kim left for a few seconds and returned with a hand-held mirror, handing it to me with the “What Are You Going To Do” look in her eye.
I plugged the clippers into a wall socket over the counter, and took a long look at myself in the mirror. Then flipped the switch on the clippers, held my breath, and took the first long stroke into my temple.
I was a few strokes in before I realized things would go better if I had the use of both of my hands. As calmly and neutrally as possible, I said, “Would someone please hold this mirror for me?” Ashley appeared next to me, and took the mirror.
Once my hands were free, the clippers made quick work of my hair. As I continued, my stress eased away as I was focused on my task. I could see Ashley’s face in my periphery, and she was starting to smile. Soon, I was running my hands over the stubble on my scalp, looking for strays. I switched off the clippers, set them down on the counter, and said to no-one in particular, “I’m going to need a fresh razor.”
Kim said, “I’ll get you one of mine,” before running off upstairs.
“Just leave it for me in the shower,” I told her. Finally I looked at Ashley. She had an iffy smile on her face. I was already getting over my anger at her, but I was perfectly content to let her stew in uncertainty and remorse for a while longer, so I remained expressionless. Her smile started to fade. “I’m going to take a shower. I don’t know how long it will take.” Then I went upstairs, where Kim guided me to her razor and yet another towel.
I was in there for quite a while. It was the first time I’d run a razor along my skull, so I proceeded with a significant degree of trepidation. But I was ultimately satisfied. I couldn’t see myself, but I detected no remaining stubble under my fingertips, so I was done, and I rinsed my head of the soap I’d used in lieu of shaving cream. I decided to give the rest of me a once over to rid myself of the jacuzzi chemicals and noticed that the girls were now watching me from just inside the bathroom door.
Once I was clean, I stepped out of the shower and dried myself. As soon as I looked at them, neither could contain their pleasure at seeing me like this, and I couldn’t help but smile back at them. The bathroom mirror was fogged, so I still did not know what I looked like. “Would someone please take me to a mirror?”
They each grabbed a hand, and dragged me into the bedroom and sat me down at a dresser. They each took a shoulder as I had my first looks. I didn’t look bad. In fact, the girls had been right; I looked better than I had with the long locks. I didn’t know what, exactly, they’d intended to do with my head before, but they were apparently pleased with my decision to go all the way. My scalp was pale, though, and I knew I’d have to spend a few days in the sun to balance things out.
I looked at the girls in the mirror. “Yes?”
They answered in unison, “Yes!”
In spite of its description as “Fiction,” this story is actually an embellishment of real experiences I had with a girl during my time on the radio. The first several chapters are absolutely true, save names and locales.
XX. “It looks great, Dean. How does it feel?” Ashley was absolutely giddy with excitement.
I ran a hand over my scalp. “It feels cold.”
The girls started shamelessly fondling my head as I started to take in my surroundings. The large bedroom suite was impressive, yet tasteful. Classic maple flowed seamlessly into contemporary brushed nickel trim. A couple of framed classic movie posters adorned the walls: The African Queen and Casablanca. A computer sat on the desk situated next to the door to the private bath.
I started to notice some odd things about the room. A bright red lips telephone sat next to the computer on the desk, a backpack rested at the entry into the room, and an old teddy bear was nestled neatly at the intersection of the two pillows on the bed. The accessories did not fit the furnishings.
“Kim, is this your room?”
“Yeah. Why, what’s wrong?” She’d seen the confusion on my face.
“Nothing,” I began, “I just didn’t expect your room to look like this.”
Kim looked at Ashley. “What did you expect, butterflies and princesses?” They started laughing.
Realizing I was beginning to look like an ass, again, “No, it’s just that this is a really nice bedroom. And very new. I mean, your bed is so big. I guess I just expected something smaller and more… Used.” I hoped I was being clear, even though I knew I wasn’t.
She stopped laughing. “Oh, I got it all for my birthday. My parents asked what I wanted, and I told them a new bedroom. We went downtown and I picked it out. Dad said I should get something that I could use even after I moved out, and this is it.” Then she looked at me, “Why? Don’t you like it?” Her look seemed to be daring me to say the wrong thing.
I answered truthfully, “I absolutely like it. Excellent choice. I was just surprised, that’s all.” She frowned at me as Ashley looked on, clearly amused at my discomfort.
Looking for an easy out, I asked no-one in particular, “Hey, where’s my beer,” then rushed my way past the girls and down the stairs, and out to the jacuzzi to recover my now warm beverage. I grabbed the girls’ teas as well, and went back into the kitchen.
I found a broom and dustpan in the closet, and cleaned my hair from the floor. A few minutes later, it became apparent that the girls were not returning directly, and I decided to take our drinks upstairs. I went through the open door into Kim’s room, and I heard a shower and talking coming from her bathroom. I made my way to the computer and powered it on, hoping to check my email.
As I waited for the computer to boot, I tried to listen to their conversation from my chair. I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Whatever the subject matter was, they weren’t too serious about it; the conversation was frequently punctuated by fervent laughter. I smiled at their happiness, running my hand over my naked head.