Chapter 9: Haircut

Lee sat at the coffee table, half grading tests with his trusty red pen and half watching River Monsters on the Discovery Channel. It was better than flipping to Ice Road Truckers, which was one of those shows that was so mind-numbing that it separated his soul from his body. On the bright side, now Lee knew to watch out for giant catfish the next time he went swimming in Nepal. His red pen hovered over his seventh test of the day and Lee watched, transfixed, as Jeremy Wade wrestled a catfish as long as he was.

"That's a big fish," came Clementine's voice from behind, small and startling.

"Yeah," Lee agreed, wincing as the catfish whacked Wade in the face with its muscular tail.

"Can you help me get gum out of my hair?"

"I've missed my calling," Lee muttered to himself, staring down at the tests marked with mostly wrong answers. "I should have been a catfish wrangler."

Clementine's tiny hands gripped his shoulders, shaking him. "Lee?"

He pretended not to notice, hand stroking his beard thoughtfully as Clem continued to shake him. "What do you say we move to India and hunt catfish?" he asked. "You're small enough to ride them, and probably too big for them to swallow you."

Clementine laughed in exasperation and shoved him as hard as she could. Lee barely moved, but she toppled over onto the sofa. "Gum!" she repeated, pointing unnecessarily to her hatless head.

Lee tore away from his show to take a look at the damage. Sure enough, he saw a gooey pink wad hopelessly stuck in the middle of Clem's wild dark hair. He brushed some curls aside.

"Ow!"

Yup. Definitely gum. "Sorry, sweet pea," Lee said. "How did this happen?"

Clem closed her eyes as if the memory was still too raw to revisit. "We were playing hide-and-seek on the playground, so I hid in the slide."

Lee could easily put the pieces together from there. "I see," he said seriously. "Well, I do have one solution, but it's a pretty tricky operation. It's only been attempted once in the Everett family household."

Clementine listened intently. "What is it?" she asked.

Lee stood up so papers fell from the coffee table and fluttered to the floor. "Peanut Butter," he said.

Clementine didn't seem nearly as jazzed. "You're putting peanut butter in my hair?" she asked with a note of distaste.

"I'm pretty sure it was peanut butter," said Lee. Actually he wasn't one-hundred percent sure what his mother had used on Benji when they were kids. It could have been mayonnaise for all he knew. "Anyway, I think that's all we have. But it'll be fine, it washes right out."

Clementine pouted. "I'll smell like a sandwich."

"Better than smelling like bubble gum and spit."

Lee took Clem into the bathroom and perched her on the edge of the tub where she sat with a defeated look on her face. He went into the kitchen and gathered the necessary supplies for gum extraction: peanut butter, a spoon, some paper towels, and a jar of unopened olive oil he happened to find in the back of the cabinet. On his way out of the kitchen, he passed the mayonnaise and in a moment of spontaneity, grabbed that too.

Clementine was definitely going to smell like a sandwich by the time he was done with her.

Lee re-entered the bathroom with his arms full of condiments and stopped abruptly to assess the scene. At first everything seemed normal: Clementine was exactly where he'd left her, sitting innocently on the tub. The biggest difference was that now she was holding a pair of shears in one hand and a chunk of what he could only assume was hair in the other. He could see the sticky pink of the gum peeking out from the handful.

They stared at each other for quite some time, Clementine frozen as if Lee could only see his prey through movement. After a full minute, he cleared his throat. "Um, honey," he began slowly, "did you just cut your hair?"

Clementine's eyes darted from the scissors and back to Lee. "I don't know," she stated.

He placed his armful of questionable supplies on the sink, keeping his tone light as he continued the interrogation. "You do realize that now you have a section of hair missing, right?" he asked. "I'm going to have to cut more off if you want it to be even."

Clementine shrugged. "At least I don't have mayo in my hair."

Lee sighed. "Give me the scissors, missy."

He used an old towel to drape around her shoulders—not that it mattered much, since she was already sprinkled with bits of hair—and used a comb to brush out the snarls.

"Have you done this before?" Clem asked with a note of apprehension in her voice.

Lee met her eyes through the mirror. "Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to play god."

Clementine moaned and Lee began to snip along her first jagged cut. It was just a hair trim, right? How hard could it be? He worked in relative silence and watched as her curls fluttered onto the tiles.

"I'm gonna look like a boy," moped Clem.

"Shush, now," he said. He could see the round tips of her ears poking through her hair now, or lack of hair. "Did you finish Duck's card?"

Clementine nodded as much as she was able to. "Yup. I put some glitter inside."

Lee chuckled. "He's not going to like that."

"I know," she said, grinning.

Duck was staying at the hospital for the weekend thanks to the chemo, and Kenny mentioned how nice a visit would be. "It would help take his mind of things," Ken had said. "But if you two can't make it, we completely understand. Don't want to put you out."

Lee was friends with Ken for long enough to know that he only asked for help when he really needed it. "You won't be able to keep us away," Lee had promised.

"Do you know if he's doing better?" Clem asked.

"The doctors are hopeful," said Lee, repeating Kenny's words, although Ken was known to have optimism in fierce quantities. Sometimes Lee wondered if his friend was hiding more than he let on.

Lee ran the comb through Clementine's hair once more with a flourish. "All right, Clem, you're done."

Clementine sat up to look into the bathroom mirror and immediately slumped. "Do I look dumb?" she asked.

Lee was thankful for her natural volume, because he knew he hadn't made very even cuts. Her brown locks curled around her ears, face, and hugged the base of her neck. Lee smiled. "No, you look very cute," he told her, kissing the top of her head. "Now go get ready. We've got a long drive to Atlanta."

xxx

Lee didn't like hospitals, but the thing he hated most about them was the stinging scent of alcohol and cleaners spritzed around like perfume, creating a cloud to envelop him and seep into his clothes. Not only did the smell burn the inside of his nose, it made him think about how strong it had to be to cover up the smell of the sick and decaying. That made it worse.

Lee and Clem's first stop was the front desk, where an irritated-looking lady pointed them in the direction of the Children's Cancer Ward. When they walked in through the double doors, the change in tone was immediate. The walls were painted bright blues and oranges, printed with yellow hands all along the length of the ward—a definite contrast to the surgical whites and greys associated with the rest of the hospital. Clementine followed the handprints, occasionally stopping to measure the size of her hand compared to the sunshine-yellow print.

"They've got a playroom!" Clem said, pointing to a bright room with a red slide, beanbag chairs, and books overflowing from every crevasse.

"They sure do," said Lee. He wasn't sure just how much energy Duck had at the moment, having poison pumping into his veins and all. But maybe Clementine could take him by the playroom later for a change of scenery, if anything else.

Lee knocked softly on Duck's room, and it was Kenny who answered the door. He looked disheveled with his hair greyer than usual and purple bags hanging under his eyes. "Hey, you two," he said with a strained smile. "Glad you could make it."

Katjaa waved from her place at Duck's side. Her blonde hair hung limply around her sloping shoulders, unwashed and unkempt. "You've got visitors, sweetie," she told Duck.

Clementine was the first one to approach the edge of Duck's bed, shoving the Get Well Soon card into his lap and looking at him expectantly. Duck was as thin as bones and pale as a sheet, a little tube running from his arm to a plastic bag hanging by his head. He looked Clementine up and down for a minute and wrinkled his nose. "What's wrong with your hair?" he asked pointedly.

Clementine glared and shoved her hat further down on her head. At least some things didn't change.

"Nothing's wrong with it," she said defensively. "I had to cut it."

"It looks bad."

"Duck!" scolded Katjaa.

"At least I have hair," Clem retorted.

"Clementine!" said Lee.

But Duck only laughed and rubbed his balding spot. "Yeah, well at least mine doesn't get in the way anymore."

Kenny shook his head. "It's nice that you two are still getting along." Then, he leaned in so only Lee could hear. "Sorry about that. Chemo hasn't made him less of a little shit," he said fondly.

"Unbreakable spirit, that kid," Lee said, watching as Duck opened Clem's card. On cue, glitter spilled out all over his hands and lap. Her laugh filled the room. "So how's he doing?" Lee continued in an undertone.

Kenny grunted. "I dunno, Lee. My boy's so fucking cheerful while me and his mom are…" he trailed off with a vague shrug, eyes landing on Katjaa. She was usually one of the most cheerful, patient women Lee knew, with her bone-crushing hugs and homemade hot cocoa and her endless love towards the kids. Now she looked like someone had let the air out of her, making her thinner, paler, deflated.

Defeated.

"Chemo's not working so well," Ken continued. "Katjaa doesn't see why we should keep torturing our boy with something that's not doing shit."

"I don't blame her."

Lee stood silently by Kenny, watching the kids throw pinches of glitter on each other and covering the pristine bed sheets with silver sparkles that would never wash out. Kenny's face suddenly scrunched up, contorting under some unknown weight. He quickly covered it with a shaking hand and turned to face the wall. Lee could hear his quiet sobs reverberating off the plaster. Reacting on impulse, Lee took Ken by the arm and forcefully led him out of the room. "We'll be right back! Gotta get some coffee," Lee called over his shoulder before shutting the door.

Once they were safely out in the hallway, Ken grunted and wiped his face with the back of his sleeve. "Thanks," he mumbled. "Didn't want the kids seeing me…you know, like that."

"Don't mention it."

Ken took a few deep breaths to compose himself, his greying mustache fluttering with each shuddering exhale. "You ever lose anyone, Lee?"

Lee leaned up against the wall so he wouldn't have to look Ken right in the eyes. "Yes," he said.

"You ever lose a kid?"

Lee swallowed. "I hope I'll never have to."

Kenny's mustache was trembling again. "Doc says he's got a procedure in mind that could make or break him." He looked right at Lee then, eyes vehement questions. "If it was your girl, what would you do?"

Lee's chest tightened involuntarily. It was a thought he didn't want to entertain even for a moment. He closed his mind against images of Clementine, her wild brown curls completely gone, her tiny body wasting away in a hospital bed too big for her. There would be no need for impromptu haircuts.

"I…" Lee's throat was dry. He cleared it. "I would give my girl her best chance."

Kenny seemed invigorated by this answer. "My boy's gonna fight, Lee. I'm not letting this sonabitch cancer take him away from me."

Lee patted him on the back a bit gruffly. "You still want to get coffee? I mean, I know it was mostly an excuse, but—"

"I'll have it in a vat," groaned Kenny, already making a beeline for the cafeteria, Lee hot on his heels.

xxx

It was tough to convince Ken and Katjaa to leave the hospital to get some rest and maybe some food. Even when Lee promised not to leave Duck for a second, Katjaa remained stubbornly at the hospital bedside, arms crossed, convinced that something horrible would happen while she was gone.

"Come on, hon," Ken coaxed. "You haven't slept in days. You need to eat. Lee will call us if there's a problem."

Katjaa's eyes didn't leave the bed. "What if Lee doesn't know what to do in an emergency?"

"We're in a hospital, hon."

"What if something happens?"

Kenny ran his hand tiredly through his hair. "We're in a hospital, hon."

Katjaa pressed her lips together so tightly that they turned white. "One hour."

"You need three."

"Two."

Knowing that was probably the best he could do, Ken nodded. "Fine," he said.

Once his parents were gone, Duck tossed some glitter up in the air. "Can we go to the playroom?" he asked, eyes shining hopefully. "Mom never lets me."

Lee flagged down a nurse before obliging Duck's request, and when she gave the go-ahead, Duck practically leaped out of bed.

"Go slow," the nurse warned as Duck immediately keeled over. "And take your IV."

Lee and Clementine flanked Duck on either side as they shuffled down the hallway to the playroom. Even though he was tethered to his rolling metal pole, that didn't stop Duck from immediately plopping himself at the bottom of the slide so Clem could roll balls and stuffed animals down into his lap. Lee sat on the sofa nearby, watching carefully, grateful for a quiet moment.

"Lee? Is that you?" said a woman's voice he recognized as—

"Carley?" Lee stood to greet his fellow professor, who had something clutched in her hands. It looked like a microphone. "Uh…you here for karaoke or something?"

Carley laughed a little too loudly and tucked a brown strand of hair behind her ear. She seemed nervous. "No, actually, I've been given my first assignment for WABE Atlanta News. I'm doing a piece on the new children's ward."

"News?" It was only then that Lee noticed the big guy standing behind Carley, a massive camera perched on his equally massive shoulder. "I didn't know you were a reporter."

"More like aspiring reporter," she admitted. "I've been interning for them for a couple months, and now they're finally letting me cover a story. I mean, it's a small one, but…"

Lee didn't much like that camera lens pointing in his direction. "Living the dream, huh?"

She laughed again, eyes darting from Lee to where the kids were now chucking cars down the plastic slide. "Hey, um, do you think you could help me out? I was hoping to get a few interviews with the kids and parents. You know, just answer a few questions about your experience in the ward?"

Lee shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I'm a terrible interviewee. And I'm just babysitting Duck and Clem today anyway."

"How about a few shots of the kids playing, then?" asked the cameraman.

"Perfect!" said Carley, sliding into her position in front of the slide. "If you could get the 'Playroom' sign in the shot, Doug…"

Lee shifted as far out of the line of fire as he could. It wasn't because he considered himself un-photogenic—he did—but the last time he was on television, he'd been in handcuffs, blood on his shirt and a scowl on his face. No, it would be better if he blended as much into the background as possible.

"You kids want to be on T.V.?" asked Doug. "If it's ok with your pop here?"

Clem and Duck both cheered, and it was impossible for Lee to refuse. "I guess so," Lee said. "Just, ah, I'd prefer not to be…"

No one seemed to hear him over their chatter, and in a matter of seconds, the camera was rolling.

"I'm Carley Vigil," announced Carley right into the camera. Her nerves seemed to have dissipated as she now stood with still confidence and a wry smile. She was in her element. "I'm reporting to you from the newest edition to New Wings Cancer Treatment Center here in Atlanta. This children's ward is a sanctuary for families battling cancer and receiving treatment, and provides a variety of services that…"

Lee was only half-listening, as he was inching towards the farthest wall.

"…and here in the newly furbished playroom, we have Clementine, and, uh…" Carley's eyebrows wrinkled slightly, "…Duck?"

Duck promptly quacked and flapped his arms obnoxiously.

"And here to provide us with some adult supervision, I have Lee Everett, who—"

Lee froze in his tracks as he felt the camera aim directly at his head. "Um…"

"So Lee, could you tell us a little bit about the brand-new playroom? What do you like most about it?"

Lee was a deer caught in headlights, as the saying went. His gaze darted from the dark, bottomless depth of the camera lens and back to Carley. She was staring at him expectantly, smiling in a "please do this for me" kind of way. Why hadn't he worn a bag over his head?

"Uh, well…" Lee began, looking frantically for something to comment on. "…the walls are kind of nice."

The camera panned to get a good shot of said walls, giving Lee a moment to kick himself.

"Um, yes! They're newly painted, right?" Carley jumped in. Lee could see in her dulling eyes that she was regretting choosing him as her insider.

"I think so," Lee said lamely.

"The slide's my favorite!" chimed the small voice of Clementine, who had popped out of nowhere to get her close-up. "Lee's too big to play on it, though."

Carley looked positively relieved as she knelt to Clem-height for an exclusive interview. "And what else do you all like about the room?"

"The books! And that thing," Clementine said, pointing towards a big, squashy beanbag chair where Duck was sprawled out on. "But Duck's hogging it, and I'm not allowed to be mean because he's sick."

Lee slipped back out of the shot, overwhelmingly thankful that Clementine was cheesing it up for the camera so he wouldn't have to. Maybe Carley would edit out his interview completely before airing. At least Clementine was having a blast telling Carley all about how she managed to cover Duck's hands in glitter, to his great dismay.

When Carley had gotten all the footage she needed, she thanked Lee profusely for his good sportsmanship. "Tell your parents to turn on the T.V. at seven!" she said, winking at Duck.

"I'm gonna be famous!" he said with a fist-pump.

As Lee had hoped, Ken and Katjaa didn't mind that permission wasn't asked for Duck to be featured on television that night for the town to see. The way Duck's face lit up at seeing himself on the big screen even brought a soft smile to Katjaa's pale lips.

Yes, maybe in special cases it was better to ask forgiveness than to ask permission.

xxx

Lee tucked Clem in that night with a promise that he'd take her to a hair stylist if she really wasn't a fan of his haphazard hack job.

"No, I like it," she said, snuggling deeper into the covers. She'd put her short curly locks in pigtails that now rested at the base of her neck. "It's not in the way anymore."

"I like it too," he said, kissing the top of her head before turning off the lights.

Lee lay awake that night thinking about Ken's family and the feelings of uncertainty that still lingered from the hospital visit. Restless, Lee got up in the middle of the night to make himself Sleepytime tea, and then got up again to pour it into the sink. He'd forgotten he didn't like tea. It was during this second walk to the kitchen that Lee felt a sudden chill breeze claw across his arm. He stopped and sniffed the cold air, knowing he hadn't opened a window all winter. Could he have left the door open?

Then, he heard a thump he recognized all too well as the sound that preceded someone bumping into the coffee table. His shin had made that sound one too many times, usually followed by a steady stream of swears. But the sound was an unmistakable warning.

Someone was in the living room.

xxx