The Taming of the Six: Curly

Wendy always hated cutting my hair, because it was so curly that it never seemed to come out right no matter what she did. The result was that she didn't cut it at all, and it continued to get longer and longer until Peter would lose patience with me blaming my hair for the trouble I always get into and hack most of it off with his dagger. Then it would grow back and everything would start over.

When we arrived at Wendy's house, it had been a while since Peter had cut my hair, and it was long enough that if I were to pull a curl down in front of my nose I would be able to chew on it when I was nervous.

I was chewing on a piece of hair when Not A Cypher told us to go take baths.

Michael had told me about baths. He'd said they were nasty and silly and you always got soap in your eye and it hurt.

I don't know if I'll ever believe Michael again though, because Wendy's mother was careful not to get soap in my eyes, and if it was strange being really clean afterwards, it was a nice kind of strange and not silly at all. Michael's very small though, so I guess he has a different perspective on things like baths.

But the strangest thing of all was after the bath when Wendy's mother cut my hair.

She did a good job. She combed it out when it was still wet so she could see how long each piece was, and then she took a scissor and cut so much off that when I saw it all on the floor I thought that I'd surely be bald by the time she was done. I wasn't though. Not quite.

"Guess my name can't be Curly anymore," I said, measuring a piece with my finger in the mirror. I was fascinated by the mirror. The only other one I'd ever seen was the tiny one in Tink's room, which was so small that if you looked into it, all you saw was your eye. This one was so big that when I stood on the little stool near the sink, I could see my whole head, and my shoulders too.

"Your name is Curly?" Wendy's mother asked.

I nodded. "But it can't be anymore, because I don't have any hair left."

"Would you like me to help you think of a new name?" she asked. "It's just as well. George is going to sign all of you up for school, and he'd be horrified if he had to sign papers for a boy with the name Curly."

"Or none at all," I added. "What kind of name would he not mind signing papers for?"

"A name that's close to Curly would be Charley," she said. "If it's close to what you're used to being called, it will make it easier to adjust."

"Charley," I said, trying it out. "When my hair grows more, can I be Curly again? Not at school. Just when I'm with the other boys and Wendy."

"Of course you can."

I hoped that my hair would grow fast. Charley was a nice name and all, but I liked Curly better, and I liked my hair best.