"Goodness, real goodness, has its own sort of cruelty to it."- Cassandra Clare
"No, really, Helen!" I said. She huffed and stopped sweeping up the hair that was scattered all over the floor. "Chrissy, it's even my turn! Are you sure?" She asked, sounding a bit irritated. "Yeah, I'm sure! You two go have fun!" I said with a wink. Helen smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Thank you so much!" Eagerly she tossed the broom back in the closet and I continued to wipe down my station. "I'll close up the next two times." She told me from the back room. "Okay! Go, or you'll be late!" I warned. Soon I was all alone inside the little salon. I looked up at the clock which read 9. Outside the window the sun was currently covered up by the dark clouds from the beautiful sunset. It was hard to believe that the day went by so quickly.
I began humming lightly as I wandered back over to the boom closet. Reaching in I pulled it out and turned back around the empty room behind me. I felt disappointed for some reason. Disappointed in what, I don't know. Just a general disappointed feeling. I began to sweep the large amounts of hair into the center of the room. The radio was on in the background, but it wasn't very loud. The song on it didn't interest me anyways, so I began to sing my own. Yeah, I sing. A lot.
In my head I was in front of millions of people, watching me with amazement, and a little bit of jealousy. Rich red velvet curtains would part and reveal me. I would be there in some sort of bedazzled complex costume, possibly with a few others on the stage. The beginning of Act II. Me and my voice. "I feel pretty! Oh so pretty! I feel pretty and witty and bright!" My voice would ring though the theater, surprising people. Such a small girl, but such a big voice! Could she be faking it? Impossible! But it sounds so good! Lots of work on my part would make it so. I would continue to sing and flit around the stage, all eyes on me. The lights in my face, the rush from performing, and the only thing filling myself would be music. I could sing the last phrase and pause, allowing for the theater or auditorium or wherever to echo with the sound of clapping hands. All of it for me.
Then I looked down to see my apron and tennis shoes. A dirty broom in my hand and hair still on the floor. But boy what a dream. I've dreamed of Broadway since I was little. I preformed in school plays and sung in choir. I acted though high school too, taking drama and literature. Then, I realized. It was just a dream. And a dream wasn't going to pay the bills. The dream wasn't going to pay for the schooling I would need. I didn't have enough talent just to show up at an audition and say "Here I am!" No. I just wasn't good enough.
Sighing, I went back to sweeping up the hair. Working two jobs and living here would never get me on the big stage that I longed to be on. I guess it was more practical. And as we all know, practicality matters when you aren't a kid anymore. You have bills, cost, and too many responsibilities to dream anymore. Still, every day I longed to be back up on the stage again. Really, I hate being a grown up. You think it would be great, wouldn't it? Freedom and independence from your parents, no more school, and of course, you would have your own money. Now all I wanted was to be a kid again.
All the hair was in a nice pile. Picking up the dust pan, I placed it next to the pile. With my foot behind it, holding it still, I swept all the hair into it. I had to do this a few times to get all the hair into the trashcan. What did I have left? I needed to lock up the cash register and the doors, but otherwise I couldn't think of anything else.
I walked across the room to the counter with the register mounted on it. Tucking the appointment book under the desk, I turned my attention to the register. Inserting the key on my ring, there was a little click. Something near the door caught my attention and my head popped up to see. There in front of the door stood a figure dressed in black. Their long hair whipped around their body as the wind blew it around. My first reaction was to duck behind the counter. Dang it. They probably had a gun and wanted the money in here.
I waited for the sounds of shattering glass and then for them to force me to open up the box. With a few rounds, they would mercilessly kill me off and leave me for the police to find tomorrow morning. Why rob a hair salon? That was a good point. Grabbing my phone, I dialed 911 but didn't press call. Slowly, I stood up off the floor. If they were going to shoot, they would have already. I approached the door gingerly, looking at the figure more closely. All I could make out in the minimal light was their pale face.
Without thinking about it, I unlocked the door. What was I doing? Even though I wanted to move, I stood there with the door wide open, inviting the stranger inside. What the heck is going on? Suddenly I was able to let go of the door. It swung shut and they were inside. "Are you open still?"
I realized that the figure was female. Her hair went all the way to her waist, and it was as dark as the night sky. I breathed a sigh of relief as she asked if the salon was open still. She was just a customer. I couldn't place a finger on why I had opened the door. That was so unlike me.
"Wait, you're the lady I did a few weeks ago! The one from England!" I exclaimed, suddenly realizing her facial features looked familiar. "You remember?" She asked, looking a little dumbfounded. "Why of course!" I said like it was obvious. Then the major factor set in here. Her hair was down to the small of her back! Only a few weeks ago was it to her shoulder blades. "Your hair." I said aloud. She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, it got very long again, and so soon. Cut it off so I may donate it." The lady asked. "Uh, please." She added.
This was all quite odd, to be truthful. For some reason though, I felt like I should do it. Even though it was after hours, she would pay me for it anyways. Why not? It would be helping someone out. "Yeah, sure." I said. I would have to sweep the floor again. Oh well. She smiled at me and I walked over to my chair. "Take a seat and I'll go get you something so the hair won't go all over. She sat down and I went back into the back room and found a cape for her. I slid it across her and snapped it around her neck. The lady shifted in her chair a bit uncomfortably. "Is it too tight?" I asked, pulling the scissors from my drawer. "No." She said quickly. "No, it is fine."
I tied her hair into a ponytail and then snipped it off."That's like 18 inches of hair! That will make someone very happy!" I told her. She didn't look nearly as thrilled as I was, but she managed another smile. Maybe it was because I was still a stranger. I don't know. "Let me just even it out then, and you will be good to go."
It took me about another thirty minutes to cut the ends off and make her hair all nice and the same length again. It looked good but she remained unimpressed. Maybe she just had a lot on her mind. She was gazing into the mirror that was directly across from her. Just staring at herself. I felt my stomach sink inside myself. "Where are you staying?" I asked her. I could tell the question took her by surprise. "In the city." She replied. That was rather vague.
"Do you have family here?" I asked. I didn't want to be pushy, but I suddenly wanted to know about this lady. Something seemed different about her, something seemed unique. "Oh, no. I… am just here for a visit." Still, I was unconvinced. "Oh, so what hotel are you staying at?" I questioned. Her mouth turned into a thin line on her face and I could see her tense up underneath the cape. "I…" But her voice died off and she looked down into her lap. "I have nowhere to stay." She whispered. I could tell. No offence, but she smelt horrible. "Come stay with me. I have a good size apartment that isn't far from here."
The lady stood up from her seat quickly, sending the pieces of hair flying to the floor. "I do not need your charity!" She yelled. I took a step back, holding onto my scissors. "At least let me pay for a hotel room for you. You can't just stay on the street. Dallas is not a good city at night." She looked crestfallen but nodded. "I would like to stay at your apartment then." She muttered. I guess I could understand her sense of embarrassment. "Do you have your luggage with you?" I asked. She shook her head. "It all was lost."
I began to quickly clean up my station. "Let's run by Wallmart then and pick you up some pajamas and you can grab some toiletries like a toothbrush and stuff." The lady shook her head. "No, no, that is not necessary." She insisted. "No, really, it's no trouble." She looked at me with a grateful stare. "I pay for it though." She said. "Deal!"
Grabbing the broom from the closet, I began to sweep up her hair on the floor. She watched me with some sort of fascination while I did so. Has she not seen anybody sweep before? That's what it looked like. "You can take that cape off." I told her. The black cape was still snapped around her neck. "Oh." With a strong pull, she yanked it off of her neck. I would have thought that would hurt! But whatever works. I emptied the dust pan into the trash can and then grabbed my keys.
After locking up the front door, I let the lady into the back room. "What's your name?" I felt like I should know it if we were sharing a room for the night. There was a pause and I looked over at her. "Lynda." She replied at last. "Nice to meet you!" I said. "I'm Christina. Or Chrissy. Either one works!" She smiled and followed me out the back door. Something told me that this would be okay. I don't know what, but this just felt right to do.
