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Oh Brother by Deke Cutter
My son had always wanted to go to one particular university. I had warned him throughout his high school years that it would be a difficult school for him to get into, if he didn't get very good grades. The time came for his application and he came to me distraught. "Dad," he said, "I am really worried that I wo n't get in. "Can't we please ask Uncle John for help?" Seeing your kid in that state will make you pull out all the stops. My older brother John was a control freak. He had served admirably in the Marines for twenty years and now was a very successful business executive. He and I were about as different as two brothers can be. I knew very well that my brother would exact a price for using his connections at the university to help m yson. I agreed reluctantly, but warned my son that this would be like making a deal with the devil. There would be consequences and no turning back. You know what teens are like, though, he was desperate. And so I made the call after my son agreed to do whatever his uncle asked of him.
I told my son to dress conservatively and to make his hair as neat as possible. My brother handt left his military style slip in the years since he left active duty. We arrived at my brother's home and he immediately invited us downstairs to his "man cave." I think we were both a bit surprised to see, in addition to the normal accoutrements of a man cave, a minibarbershop set up in one corner. John looked at my son and said "hop in the chair sport." My son's eyes widened, but he complied. John sad to him: "if I am going to help you get into that school, we need to be clear. I have a reputation and you will do nothing that would harm that reputation." My son nodded his understanding. "So, first things first, we clean you up." With that, my brother picked up a pair of clippers and went to work. My son's hair covered his ears and collar. He had bangs that flopped down into eyes and sideburns that fell an inch or so below his earlobes. John made quick work of the sides and back of my son's hear leaving the hair about half an inch long. He then switch to a slightly larger guard on the clippers and took the top down so that it was slightly longer than the sides. He then put the clippers down and took scissors and cut my son's bangs very short, about half an inch from his hairline. Next he took the sideburns off with a dsiposable razor and cleaned up his neck. My boy now had what we joking called "the whiteboy baketball player haircut." John said to him, "I am leaving it longer than I woujld like because I know what you kids are like. This is your haircut for the school year, I will take it down for the summers when you will be working for me." My son said "yes sir." and got out of the chair, feeling the denuded back of his head. My brother sent him upstiars saying "your father and I have some things to discuss befoe I interview you."
As the door at the top of the steps closed, John said to me, "OK sport, your turn in the chair." I looked at him and said, "John, this is between Jake and you. I do not need to be involved." He responsed that all Jake would be getting out of this day was a haircut if I did not comply. As I said, my brother was a bully, and I knew he was not joking. Reluctantly, I got into the barber chair. John had always hated the fact that I kept my hair fairly long (particularly by his standards). But, I was successful enough in my own life and I like the way my well cut thick brown hair looked. John, though, finally saw his chance. He said to me: "I can get our boy into the school with a single phone call, but in order for that call to be made, you will agree that I shall be your barber and your "life coach" for the next four years. Jake was such a good kid and my brother had always had a way of making himself the winner. I reluctantly agreed.
And so, he went to work. "This hair of yours is ridiculous" he said. He turned on the clippers and I noticed that there was no guard on them. "John, not too short, I have to go to work on Monday." He laughed and said, "get used to it Sparky, I am creating the new you. Huge chunks of hair fell onto the cape. As he came round the side of my head, I could see that he was leaving nothing but skin. My eyes started to tear up. This was the way things had always been between my brother and I and why I had kept my distance from him as adults. John never missed a trick, "oh poor baby crying because he is getting a grown up's haircut. We we'll work on toughening you up. He turned the clippers off and I looked at my self, bald on the sides and back and my thick beautiful hair still on top. He then took out one of those big flat top combs and went to work paring odwn the hair on top of my head. He worked with great care and slowly got the top down to about an inch. Then he put the comd down and went to work on carving out the middle of my hair. I was going to be left wearing a high and tight flat top! A single tear slipped out of my eye, but John was turned away, thank goodness. He was getting the butch was which he applied liberally to the little bit of hair I had left on top of my head. I looked like a Marine wannabe. John informed me that I would be here each Saturday "to keep it fresh."
As I got out of the chair, John said to me, OK, now you will pay for asking me to not take it too short and for that sissy emotion in the chair. Assume the position. Those were the words our father, also a military man would use when we were going to be spanked. I looked at John, he said two words "phone call,"and I knew I would have to comply. I pulled down my pants and drawers, bent over and felt the sting of a paddle for the first time in many years. When he was done, tears were streaming down my face, more from embarrassment and anger than the pain. He told me to clean myself up while he went up and talked to my son. He said that he would call me when I could go upstairs. Fifteen minutes passed and I was called. When I arrived upstairs, I thought my son's eyes would pop out of his head. John said that he had a phone call to make. As he left the room, I indicated to my son to ask no questions. John came back and said, "congratulations Jake, you are in. See you next Saturday little brother.
When we got to the car, Jake had a million questions. I explained everything to him (except the spanking). I told him that this was something that I was willing to do for him and that what he could do for m was to make the most of this chance and that he and I could look forward to growing our hair out once he had his degree. Little did either of us know what more my brother jOhn had in store for the future!