Oswald Crow hated the man he saw in the mirror. He could
forgive the fact that he had to stand on a footstool to see that image. He
could forgive his own inability to attract women (despite his latest crush
being married). He could forgive the idea that he’d caused all of his own worst
problems. But the part that really made him stare bullets into the mirror…was
his hair and his beard. He stroked his long, greasy locks with so much force
that he damned near pulled out the follicles. He gripped his shaggy beard like
he was making a fist, as if the thought of punching himself in the face was his
greatest idea yet.
“No more…no more of this garbage…” he said with a menacing
scowl. He gingerly stepped down from the footstool and put his medical boot
back on. Walking had gotten a hell of a lot easier since his (hopefully) final
encounter with Antero. He didn’t limp nearly as much and his speed had picked
up just a little bit. All that was left was for him to find a better shirt to
wear and out on the town he would go. How about Dark Side of the Moon T-shirt
with prism, rainbow, and all?
When Oswald went for his trek downtown, he still played it
safe and walked at a tender pace. Any residual pain he suffered in his foot was
downplayed by one long glance around the misty city. A terrorist attack
happened not too long ago and people still carried on with their daily lives.
Some still shook with fear. Some still had the color drained from their faces.
Some even shed a few tears. But even with all of this latent fear, Valerie’s
prophecy came true: life went on. Oswald expected the results to be no
different when he entered Two Bits Barber Shop.
But even for customer service standards, the barbers looked
somewhat happy, just minding their own business and accumulating a pile of hair
on the ground like nothing had happened. The blond lady at the service desk
smiled a warm smile down at Oswald and asked, “Can I help you?”
“Do you take walk-ins?”
“We sure do. In fact, we have an opening right now if you’re
ready.”
“Cool.”
“Can I get your name, please?”
“Oswald Crow.” He said his name with slight trepidation, as
if it was as blasphemous to say as Jesus fucking Christ in a crowded mega
church. But it turned out his name held no such weight in this strange barber
shop. He wasn’t as big of a villain as he imagined himself to be.
He breathed a sigh of relief as the woman penciled his name
in her schedule and never lost her happy expression. “Alright, Oswald, looks
like I’ll be taking care of you today. My name is Callie. Do you need any help
getting set up?”
“Nah, I’ve got this,” he said as he struggled to get into
the barber’s chair. There were a few instances where he slipped and slid, much
to the head shaking, hands-on-hips chagrin of Callie. She grabbed him by the
hand and lifted him into the chair with minimal effort. “Guess I needed help
after all.”
“You really shouldn’t be shy about accepting help from
others. It’s what brings us all together,” said Callie while running her
fingers through Oswald’s hair. “So what are we doing today?”
The little guy really didn’t think this one through. What
would he look good with? A Mohawk? A high fade? A bald head? All he could
muster up was a long, “Uh” and this got a giggle from Callie. She said, “How
about if I surprise you with something? I think you’re going to like what I
have in mind.”
Shrugging his shoulders, Oswald said, “Sure, why not?”
With that Callie got right to work on Oz-Man’s new
hairstyle. Lots of spraying, lots of buzz-cutting, and lots of scissor
snipping. There was enough hair on the ground to create another Oswald Crow and
two Burmese kitties.
“So what do you do for a living?” asked Callie.
“I’m unemployed.”
“Oh,” said Callie with a twisted mouth and shifting eyes.
“Okay.”
“I take that back. I’m a sex surrogate at a funeral home.”
The barber made a flat tire noise and shook her head at the
joke. “See, that would have been a better response than saying you’re
unemployed.”
“But it’s a lie.”
“Of course it was. I don’t think anybody here would
willingly believe you get paid to do…that. The important thing here is that you
have a sense of humor about it. Employers like that kind of thing. Granted, I
wouldn’t use that particular joke, but you get the idea.”
“I don’t even know what I’m going to do once I get out of
college.”
“Wait a minute, you’re in college? Why didn’t you say that
when I asked you what you did for a living?”
“Because I don’t get paid for it. I’m the one making all the
payments here.”
Patting Oz-Man’s shoulders, Callie said, “Listen, you don’t
have to get paid in order to call something your profession. It could be
something as simple as a hobby like building things or writing stories or
carving soap.”
“Or sitting on my ass watching television.”
Callie let out a hearty laugh and struggled to compose
herself. “Wow. You are something else, Oswald. On second thought, maybe being
your delightful self is just what you need to land a job.”
He smiled, “I’m not as delightful as you think.”
“Oh really? Is that how you scared me off just now?” The little
man didn’t have an answer for that except for a small sigh. “The fact that
you’re willing to come in here and get a nice haircut shows me you care at
least just a little bit what the world thinks of you.”
“Maybe I don’t care enough.”
“That’s something you need to find a balance with. You
should care just enough to get your foot in the door and just little enough
that you don’t lose yourself along the way. It takes work, but as a college
student, you’re more than ready for it. I know it.”
Oswald kept quiet the rest of the time he was getting his
haircut. Hating small talk aside, he didn’t want to get pieces of his locks in
his mouth. He may have spit out a few strands here and there. But before he
knew it, Oswald truly was a new man underneath all of that Wookie fur. The top
of his head had short spikes, he had a low fade just underneath, and his beard
was just short enough to not resemble an African jungle. The next time he
looked in the mirror, he felt less and less like punching himself in the face.
He ran his fingers through his remaining hair and said in a soft voice, “I look
good.”
“You sure do,” said Callie with her sweet smile. “But we’re
not done yet.”
As the barber walked away, a much taller presence in the
form of a longhaired young man approached Oswald from the rear. At first the
little guy swallowed a lump in his throat, thinking this guy was going to crush
him with his massive hands. But instead the man with Damian on his nametag
gently squeezed the tension out of Oswald’s shoulders and scalp. All the
injuries, the bruises, and the cuts he received throughout his journey melted
away from him like butter on popcorn. He could have transformed into a puddle
right there on the chair.
No small talk, no frills, no gimmicks of any kind, just a gentle
massage Oswald never knew he needed until then. He closed his eyes and allowed
his healing mind to take him to faraway places. Tingles washed over his upper
body. And then Damian grabbed little Oz-Man by the jaw and quickly twisted his
neck in both directions. The crunching and popping noises echoed throughout the
barbershop and managed to get a few stares from the customers. Oswald shook his
jowls at the one second pain, but immediately relaxed again. “It’s been a while
since I’ve had a massage and an adjustment.”
A smile etched on Damian’s pale face. “You should get them
more often. It’s not unheard of for customers to come in here just for the
massage.”
“Really?” Damian nodded. It took every ounce of strength in
Oz-Man’s body (and assistance from Damian) to help himself down. He thought
this could be a new treatment option for his mental illnesses, even if it only
provided temporary relief. Maybe if he did it long enough…
He snapped back to reality when Callie ran his bill up for
him. “That’ll be twenty dollars even.” Oswald pulled his wallet out and gave
his barber and massage therapist an extra fifteen, but Callie waved the
overpayment away. “We don’t accept tips here. We’re unionized, so we get paid
well.”
“No kidding?”
“No kidding. Just the twenty dollars will do. Plus, you’re
going to need that extra fifteen dollars for Jessica Bradley’s roses.”
Oswald’s eyes widened. She knew about that? His name was
public knowledge and she didn’t let on the entire time? Was he really a big
celebrity? Or a social pariah? What the hell was going on?
“Have a nice day!” said Callie as she and Damian waved at
him with smiles on their faces. Oswald left the twenty dollar bill on the
counter and hightailed it out of there.
