Chapter 3: Doors of Destiny
"Sir, can I help you?" A woman asked at the counter as I approached.
"Um…yes. Could I see Bill Cutler, please?" I replied to her question, honestly hoping he wouldn't be there.
"…Mr. Cutler is away on business in Richmond, sir."
"Oh, I see. Can I make an appointment?" I silently cheered, glad that he wasn't there. I didn't think I could face him, not right now.
"Yes. Mr. Cutler is free on…the 12th. You would like to make an appointment for that date?" She smiled at me, a flirting smile. She did't look too bad…pretty blonde hair cut short, a mouth filled with sparkling white teeth surrounded by full lips smeared with sheer pink gloss, long French manicured nails, a young face, hazel eyes…she looked about 20 years old.
"Yes please."
"Would you like a room?" Another smile.
"Um…yes." I pushed my hair out of my face, silently reminding myself to cut it. I reached into my pocket to produce the money my mother had left me. Since I had walked for a lot of my trip, I still had a great deal of money remaining.
The room wasn't fairly expensive, I wondered if the woman at the counter had reduced my bill. Before I had left towards my room-549-she had given me her name and room number, telling me to come by sometime. Surprise her. I honestly concidered it, seeing as my trip was extremely uneventful in that aspect. I SWEAR I wasn't sex-crazy then, just lonely. Very lonely.
Anyway, after putting away what little I had brought, I decided I needed something to do. I had seen a swimming pool on the way in; I figured I could hang out there for a while. I'd need to buy suntan lotion, of course, since my pale skin only burned, never tanned. If I would have lacked hair, I would have almost been Albino.
The water felt cool against my bare chest and arms, cool and calming. The children that dotted the pool's edges were for the most part quiet, seeming unafraid of the water. No babies cried, no kids screamed when their wishes were unfulfilled, no loud talking or laughing interrupted the clam silence of the pool's atmosphere. All seemed still. I laid my head back and relaxed, feeling my tense, stiff body relax.l My mind wandered to my mother. She still could be here. She still had a chance to redeem herself, to take me with her whenevershe intended to go. Then I recalled the note she had written to me, the note she had cruelly taped to the freezer door.
'But my fiancee diesn't know I have children…'
She was getting married…I had another father and I didn't even know his name. And he didn't know that he would have a son soon. How sad for both of us…
"Hey, watch out mister!" A childish voice called. I shook myself from my thougts in time to see a plastic beach ball soaring towards my head. I ducked into the water as it whizzed past my head into the water below. I emerged from below the water, shaking out myhair and reaching for the blue beach ball. I turned around, ball in hand, to a young boy about 13 years old. He reached out for the ball and I handed it to him, examining him as I did. He had brown hair cut short, rather tanned skin, a devilish child's grin, and dark eyes that matched my own. They scanned me seriously, his grin becoming stiff.
"Are you okay mister?" He asked me, his eyes on my face, studying me intently.
"Yes, I am fine." I nodded, looking down at the water.
"Why is your hair so long?" He asked outright. My face reddened and I opened my mouth to speak when a woman's scolding voice interrupted me.
"Now, now Randolph, you don't ask questions like that! Say you're sorry." She had a motherly affection in her voice.
"Sorry." The boy frowned, shrugging his shoulders sheepishly. He looked upset.
"I apologize for his rudeness. I'm Lillian, his mother." She offered her hand and I took it, shaking it slowly, paying attention to the softness of her skin. "What is your name?"
"Adamantine Martin. Pleased to make your acquantance." I said, choosing my words carefully.
"That's a funny name." Randolph remarked. Lillian smacked his rear and he frowned again, as if getting reprimanded was the worse thing that could happen to him ever.
"Sorry. Again." He ran off to play before he would do something else to upset his mother.
"That boy is out of control sometimes." She remarked with a half smile on her faultless face.
"It's alright. My hair and my name seem to attract attention a lot." I told her, my eyes on the ground once more. She looked down at me, studying me.
"So what brings you to Cutler's Cove?" She asked finally, kneeling down to me, her smile warm and friendly. I felt a shiver run throughout my body, and the water was beginning to get cold.
"…Some family business." I said.
"Ah. Family reunion?"
"…Sort of."
"You can book the dining room for your family if you'd like."
"No, it's fine. Really." No emotion entered my voice. She seemed taken aback, put off by my coldness.
"If you will excuse me, Miss, I should be getting back to ny room." I began to swim toward the rail leading out from the pool.
"Goodbye then." She smiled warmly at me, then went off, most likely searching for her son's whereablouts. I ducked under the water's surface, reaching the metal exit ladder quickly. I climbed out and walked over to my towel, wrapping it around my shoulders, feeling the stinging pain when it touched my shoulder. I glanced at the body part and quickly realized I had sunburn, despite all of the sunburn I had slathered on my body.
The shower felt cool. It stung when my sunburned places were hit, but I enjoyed the stinging pang, probably because I had been hurt so much this felt like nothing.
I wondered why Lillian had been so friendly to me. It couldn't possibly be because she liked me, could it? No, she had a son…which meant she had a husband. Anyway, I had seen her disapproving gaze of my hair and my eyes, and my coldness had certainly offended her. Why was she so nice, then? Why did she carry on a conversation when she could have easily left?
The bed was soft and comforting, but yet I couldn't sleep. It was one of my problems…I couldn't sleep very well sometimes. I thought once or twice about going to that secretary's hotel room, thought of having some fun, but I decided against it then, figuring I didn't need to ruin someone's else's trust in men. I thought about what I would do the next day, figuring that I could use half the day swimming, then I could take a shower and get my hair cut. Then a quick run and sleep. Putting in time for food of course, though I wasn't much of an eater, hence my thin build.
After thinking a bit more, sleep finally did come to me, and when I woke up I headed directly to the pool. Since I had woken up a bit early-6 AM-rarely anyone was in the pool. It was silent and serene, and I relaxed once more. I remained in the pool for about 3 hours, when people started to crowd in and the calm atmosphere was gone. So I climbed out, went to my room and changed, and went for a run. Returned to my room for a shower, and then back outside to the car awaiting me.
On the way there, I got nervous. My hair hadn't been short for quite a while…and so natually I was a little afraid. But if I wanted to make a good impressionwith my esteemed father Bill, then needed to look decent.
(I hope I am not doing all this for nothing…)
The shop was 'cozy,' the ceiling on in anticipation of summer, the smell of hair products meeting my nose upon my enterence in the cheerily decorated glass doorway. A woman came up to me, short and pudgy with thin lips that stretched across her face, brown eyes that sunk into her face, and a small, turned up nose. She could resemble an elephant if she grew a tail.
"Are you Adamantine Martin?" She asked. Her voice was low and sexy, betraying her thick molasses figure.
"Yes." I replied.
She perered up at me, her eyes widening. I frowned, turning my eyes away from her, averting them to the floor.
"A male?" She asked, unbelieving.
"…Yes." I sighed, wanting to walk out on her.
"What…what do you want done?" Her voice was pained now, as if the fact that I was male and yet had a face and hair more girlish than an actual girl.
"Short. I want it short." Was all I said. She grunted.
"S' a shame those ringlets aren't mine. Doncha think I'd look sexy?" I raised an eyebrow at her question, sickened. I wished she wouldn't ask such questions. They were…inappropiate, and most people would leave that little shop in a heartbeat. But me…I was stubborn.
"…Yes." I replied to her question despite my disapproval.
"Atta boy! How old are you?"
"…16, miss." I felt awkward and shy talking to her, a little embaressed.
"Ah, he's polite!" She began to lead me to a chair, holding me tightly by the arm. A few hairdressers looked my way and smiled, obvious "interested" smiles. The butterflies in my stomach fluttered their wings harder.
"So 16, huh? What a ripe age. In my day, people were getting married by then. Having kids, buying a house, you know, that whole thing. A lot of girls were spoiled by the date of their weedings though, sorry to say. I was one of em. Bet you're spoiled too, huh? I can see that guilty look in those pretty eyes of yours I can. Quite a turnon for a girl these days." I felt my face grow hot.
"That's my personal business." I tried to keep calm, tried not to grow angry at her questions.
(Author's Note: By spoiled I don't mean a spoiled brat…I mean like unvirgin like…yeah. I think that's the word they used in the old days.)
"Yeah yeah I know. Guys are so secretive these days! Girls are so open. They don't care about who hears their problems. I'm normally secretive…"
(Yeah, sure you are.)
"…but I'd share my problems with you in a heartbeat, honey. Provided there was a…toy in between us."
At first I didn't understand her, but then it clicked in my head…and I almost leapt out of the chair.
"I hardly think that's appropiate for public!" I cried, leaping from the chair, gazing at her angrily, the blaze in my eyes growing strong.
It was something my mother used to say to men who openly expressed their sexual appetite for her. I was aware that I sounded like a girl saying that as well, but I could care less at the moment.
"Alright, I get it." She frowned and picked up scissors from the marble vanity in front of her. I sank back into the chair, wondering to myself why I was still here. Why I put up with her stupid questions, why I stayed here, enduring everything that was thrown at me.
The woman positioned my head straight, lowering the silver tool to my hair…and the butterflies in my stomach attacked my insides. My nervousness took over my body and I quivered.
"Hey, hey. I haven't cut a single stand and you're quiverin!" The woman exclaimed. A pretty woman came over to us from across another chair, sighing.
"Mother, I'll get him. You go in the back and sort the shampoo, okay?" She had a sexy voice too, similar to her mother's. But she had the body of supermodel, and I imagined her and I in bed together. I imagined her breathing hard, naked in the moonlight, sweat dripping from her body. She would cry out as I slipped inside…I shook my head to rid myself of the dream playing out in my mind, 'awakening' just in time to see the short woman shuffle towards the back of the salon and wink at me before disappearing. The tall and thin woman who had come over to me turned toward me, grinning. Her waist length blonde hair wavered, shining brilliantly in the sunlight coming from the window.
"That's my mother for you." She said. "Um…I'll be with you in a minute, sir, I just have to finish up this customer, and then I'll be with you. Okay?" I nodded, my hopeless mind still in the clouds. I noticed that the top three buttons on her pink satin shirt were open, but I turned my head away, ashamed at myself.
Man…my sexual appitite must be obvious if every girl looks so hot to me and I had an old lady after me. Wow…I really need to get laid so this stops.
I focused my attention to the young girl across from me, watched her careful snips with the scissors, the precautious way she cut, the gentle way she handled the tool. It looked like she she was cutting a male's hair, for the razor she pulled out next and ran over her customer's head leaving a trail of bare skin…no girl in her right mind would ever get that done. The woman kept her eyes solely focused on her job, letting no one interrupt her.
Finally she was done, and her customer got up, the light shining off the top of his head, I almost laughed at the way he resembled a monk. The man turned around to thank his hairdresser, his brown eyes glinting as bright as his skull. The woman, after cleaning up her area a bit, came over to me, a smile upon her face.
"First things first, my name is Elizabeth. Second, I like to learn about my client before I start and tell them how I work." She said, her green eyes on me.
Is she really blonde?
"So, what's your name and how would you like your hair?" She asked me, interrupting my staring contest with the roots of her hair.
"Adamantine Martin and short."
"Awww, short? I'd just hate to cut off those ringlets!" She frowned, thinking. For a second I thought she was going to turn me down and say she was not able to cut my hair. "But it isn't my hair. So how short would you like it?"
"…Just…short."
"No specific length?" I shook my head. She examined my face, trying to determine what would be best for me I suppose. I quickly glanced at the clock on the wall across from me, sighing with disappointment. It was already 3:30 p.m. I had other things to do besides sit in a barber shop and converse with people I didn't know. I didn't want to sit in here too much longer; the fumes of hair care products were making me sick. And not much was getting done anyway, so I wasn't going to wait for much longer.
"I gather you don't have time to deal with your hair?" She asked me, examining the curls with a light in her eyes. What was so enthralling about my hair that everyone had to fawn over it? Why was it so…so attention getting?
"Not normally, no." I replied, remembering Elizabeth had asked me a question.
"Hmmmm…" She studied me harder, so hard that I felt uncomfortable under her seemingly scrutinizing gaze. I wondered if this was how those girls felt when I scritinized them, took advantage of them, played with them like they were my toys.
Did they really feel like this? So…violated. I…don't like this feeling.
"Okay." She said finally. "I'm thinking a loose cut. Cut the sides and back short but leave some chin length bangs in the front." I nodded, trying to picture myself but not quite comprehending her words. The butterflies churned, but not so much this time.
After a moment, she clamped the scissors down on my hair, letting the ringlet fall to the floor. Already my head felt pounds lighter.
As she cut, she talked. She told me about her desperate mother who'd had a child at fourteen without a husband to support her. She had been unable to find a boyfriend her age after that, so she stuck with the younger men to supposedly make up for that sixteen year old she had never married. It was the same sixteen year old who had made her pregnant. She told me about herself growing up. She asked personal questions about me, about my family, but I was vague, since the idea of family was vague to me as well.
After a while, she had finished. I was numb all over from sitting so still in the chair for such a long time and also from her chatter the entire time; I just wanted to get to the hotel and sleep off my tension and unhappiness.
I looked in the mirror, surprised to see exactly what Elizabeth had said she would do, shaved short on the sides and back with chin length bangs in the front. They fell stubbornly over my eyes, sticking to my forehead.
Summer…the heat will be a definate problem…I'll have to come up with some solution to that, but that is some time away…and my hair grows much too fast. I'll have to figure something out then…but then is not now.
"Second thoughts? I can alter it if you like." She smiled. "Perhaps a look similar to my client before you?" A joke? No, her face was serious.
Yeah right…like I could pull that look off.
"I am fine, thank you." I assured her, standing up and trying to ignore the black curls scattered on the floor before me.
"Hey, if you ever need a last minute trim, here's my number…" Elizabeth was writing her phone number on my hand, but I was gazing at my reflection. My disheveled reflection. My body was stiff, my position straight and commanding. My mouth was shaped into a scowl, my lips glossy. My hair sat stiffly on top of my head, unmoving. My eyes seemed to soak in too much at once, giving the impression that I knew too much, that I was older than I really was. They had an adult shine in them, a tragic and glossy shine that showed many tears had been shed before I was due to experience such things.
Sometime later, after hearing Elizabeth ramble on and on about something, I left for Cutler's Cove. Her voice still rang in my ears, the tones I had once thought sexy now terribly annoying, echoing in my ears over and over again. Even as I sat in the cab, all alone besides the cab driver, her voice broke the silence, blabbering endlessly about unimportant things.
I tried to sit back and relax, tried to concentrate on the pounding of the horses' hooves, the rein of the cab driver snapping back and driving the horses further. I imagined the poor beasts were probably tired from working all day, that they probably wanted to go home and go to sleep. I felt the same way, although Cutler's Cove was not yet my home. Would it ever be?
"Kid, we're here." The cab driver said in a monotone voice. He turned around and tapped my shoulder when I didn't reply. I climbed up, handed him money, and left without a word. He gazed after me, but, too tired to care, whipped the horses and headed away, most likely for home.
I went directly to my room, right for my bed, not even bothering to remove my shoes before I fell onto the bed. Before I fell asleep, I glanced at the clock: it was only 7 p.m.
I tossed and turned, waking up every half hour or so. Finally I climbed up from bed and went to the secretary who had given me her room number. She was surprised but pleased to see me, admiring my new hairstyle and then letting me into her room, opening the door to her world. We had fun, as I thought we would, but it meant nothing, which upset me a little. As I climbed into my own bed around 3 a.m., I thought about all the girls back home. Up until now, their names hadn't meant anything to me. They were merely toys who's faces and experiances escaped me. I hadn't given these 'toys' a single thought up until now…but now they filled my head, occupied my every thought. Helen, Terry, Brittany, Paris, Kiersten, Tifani, and Lara…all pretty…at one time, all mine. But I had let each of them go after a month or so of play, moving onto another quickly. I sickened myself, changing my girlfriend all the time just for a little variety. What would I do when the time came for me to settle down, get married? Would I chicken out on that aspect, stay a bachelor for the rest of my life? Would I be a loner, destined for an eternity that consisted of only myself? Or would I manage to change myself, manage to find someone I loved, manage to stand another? I wondered what Fate had decided for me…
The next days passed quickly, and soon enough it was time for me to face my father. I had periodically pondered over what I would say to him…how I would react. How I should react. I was seeing my father for the first time in my entire life. He would be seeing me for the first time as well, and he didn't even know he had a child with Melody. Maybe he didn't even remember Melody. Would I be just another person to him? Or would he know as soon as he set eyes on me that I was of his flesh, of his blood?
It was time soon, I thought. Stepping out of the shower, I dried off and stepped into my clothes, rushing out of my room to the hotel desk. Butterflies filled my stomach, their wings flapping harder than ever. But I kept my mouth shut, my eyes ahead of me, my back stiffly straight. Despite my strong guise, I knew that this was it. If Bill refused to believe that I was his son, I had nowhere to go. My mother had no family that I knew of, no relation to anyone. She told me when I was 6 years old that she was an orphan. She also told me that she would never desert me the way she was deserted. She said she would never make me an orphan, she would never put me through that pain. But ironically she had, and I felt essentially nothing anymore. An empty area rested in my heart now that my hope for her return had gone away. Had I become heartless and cruel? If I ever had a child, would I desert them too?
Thoughts whirred through my brain as I neared the desk, as I neared the door to my destiny. The receptionist, the same girl who had scheduled me for the appointment in the first place, recognized me and signaled me to a grand set of golden doors down the hall, and I nodded to her, no emotion present in my face. She winked at me, her smile large. I faintly remembered my night with her, how I had forgotten my problems when I went to her, but how they were magnified when I came out. I immediately decided then that the secretary would be the last person I would take advantage of, the last person I shared moments with. The last person's heart I would break. The last straw.
I prepared to enter the large royal golden doors beyond me, the true doors to my destiny.
Author's Notes: So, what did you think of this chapter? It took me a while to type it cause I didn't have enough patience to complete it. It seemed so long when I was working on it! Anyway, I have the 4th chapter already complete as well; it's really short. And I sincerely apologize for the typing mistakes; I typed this on a computer with no spelling check.
Anyway, so I hope you enjoyed this everyone! Hopefully the 5th chapter will be done soon, and the 4th chapter will be up soon! I'm working on chapter 6 at the moment, but I looks like it will be a long one so it might be a while!
Aqlright, bye everyone!