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Summer with Uncle Mike by Felix
Hello my name is Felix.This is a true story about me going to my uncle Mike's house in California.
It all started when the temperatures in Alaska started to decrease. My parents were staying back at my house while I stayed with my Uncle. He was close to poverty and lived in a run down apartment building with a couple of other people.
My parents were nervous dropping me off. I could tell because when a different man came up to the door they jumped.The man introduced himself as Bill Ellis. He was my uncle's neighbor. He smelled heavily of cigars but I was used to that smell from my other visits. He offered to take me inside but my parents said no. He ended up bringing me inside anyway.
I was dropped off at the door of Uncle Mike's house. He opened it and welcomed me inside.It was cleaner than usual. My bedroom was across from his. He was in the army and lost his job while serving. The room was really small and the only thing inside were a sleeping bag and a box with toys from a long time ago inside. I put all my stuff on top of the box and then went to find much uncle.
He was in his room writing something on a piece of paper. As I neared his bed I saw what it said. In messy writing, 1.keep your room clean, 2. Always start and end a sentence with sir, 3. Keep a tidy appearance at all times, and 4.never disobey him. He told me that as long as I followed the rules I would have a great time.I wasn't so sure.
A day later he took me over to his friends house. His friend told me his name Sayid Diks**t which made me tumble down laughing Sayid got mad and so did Uncle Mike. The next day he was still upset. We are going into town he told me. Why? I asked. No response.
We walked along the cracked street and got milkshakes. Then he told me to follow him. I followed him into a really old looking barbershop. There were pictures of men and boys with different haircuts lining the walls. The barber was a chubby old man with a bald head. He was just closing up the shop as we walked in. I guess your my last customers he told us.We are not here for me said Uncle Mike. My stomach was twisting in knots. Well then tell your daughter here to pick one of the pictures on the wall.What did he mean daughter? My hair was barely passed my shoulders.
I looked along the walls and finally found a picture of a kid with a part in the middle of his hair.I chose that one. My Uncle looked at it and said no. you broke two of my rules therefore I will be choosing. He walked around for a minute and finally stopped at a picture of a kid my age with shaved sides and a long top. I want him to have this he said. One short back and sides coming up said the barber. I tried to run out of the shop but was caught by much Uncle strong hands.
I was placed in the chair and the barber put a cape around me. Then he picked up a pair of #2 clippers. Look down he said.I looked down and felt him place the clippers on my neck.He pushed up and it left a path of grassy looking hair behind me.He kept doing it until my sides were gone.He let me touch it and I pushed up letting the bristles go up and down. The mu uncle chimed in, Can you clip it a little shorter? A #0 then? Asked the barber. He took off the guard and once again put the clippers to my nape. This time it left a trail of stubs.Are you sure that the shortest you can go asked my uncle.Afraid so said the barber.Actually I could try the edger. Do what you need to do said my uncle.He gave me the same treatment as the other two guards. I bit my lip to keep from crying but I couldn't stop it. Then the barber took some cream and dalopped it around my sides. He then took at a razor and brushed it along the bristles still remaining. I cried harder.
The the barber asked my uncle if that was good. I was waiting for. Yes but heard a no instead.He needs to learn to respect my friend and he needs to learn what a proper haircut is. Give him the same treatment on the top. The barber shaved off the hair from the top of my head, put cream on it and dragging the razor through. Finally he said he was done. My Uncle looked up from his paper and give the man $5.00. We left and I could not stop touching my sandpapery head. When we got home he wrote one last thing on the list of rules. 5. You must keep this haircut until you leave.
And I did.