Your Brother Wants It Short, Part 5 by Jonathan

---

Just minutes ago I got my head shaved bald. My name is Jonathan. I've just left the barber shop on my bike. I have no hair! I am 15 years old and am going to my friend Paul's house who lives by the beach. It's around 4:30 now. It is 1975, an era when most boys my age had long hair over their ears.

I can tell people are already starring at my bald head. I am not sure what my mom will say. She might be a little mad. My dad always hated my long hair, so he'll probably like it. It all happened so fast. I wanted another flattop, but I got shaved zero with the clippers. A kid in the barber shop heard I wanted a flattop and suggested I get a bald head like the one barber in the shop. Well one thing lead to another and now I'm basically bald. I can rub and feel a slight stuble however.

"What have you done now Jonathan?" I ask myself.

I ride on the coast highway and hear someone yell, "KOJAC!" I keep going and want to get to my surfer friend Paul's house. I can't wait to see what he'll say about my hair, well no hair. Both my surfer friends Paul and Jeffery live near the beach in two different run down apartment complexes. I live in a two story house in a middle class neighborhood in the same town. Both Paul and Jeffery are a lot more street wise than I am. I ride along on my bike on this warm June evening and am almost at Paul's house.

Soon I am at Paul's door. I knock anxiously and wonder what he'll say about my shaved head. His little brother opens the door and starts to giggle at my bald head.

"Jonathan, where's your hair?" he asks.

"I cut, just go get your brother Paul, ok," I tell him.

Soon Paul is coming from the bedroom and gets to the door.

"What the heck, Jonathan, you're bald!" he yells.

"What do you think?" I ask him.

Paul gets real close to my head and examines it like some foreign thing he's never seen in his life. Then he rubs my shaved head a couple times.

"Those ears Jonathan," he says.

"It looks ok though I guess, so shiny," he says. "It looks kinda cool, I like it," he continues.

"Dad, come and feel Jonathan's head," Paul yells.

"Oh Jonathan, what did you do?" asks Paul's dad.

"I don't know," I say.

"Dad can I shave my head too?" asks Paul.

"Well we'll see," he says.

Paul and I ride our bikes to Jeffery's house. When we get there Jeffery keeps calling me baldy and slapping my head. "Jonathan, are you crazy or something to shave your head?" he asks.

"I don't care," I say.

We go to the pier, walk around and smoke a few cigs. We watch the surfers and plan to go surfing tomorrow afternoon when my soccer game is over. Paul and Jeffery tell me goodbye and soon I ride off home.

I ride about 15 minutes on my bike and am close to my house. A kid I know down the street yells out, "Where's your hair Jonathan?" For a moment I almost forgot I'd shaved my head. Both of my parents were home when I arrived. Once I got this over with, my bald head was set. Show my parents, and get that over with. Then Nancy my girlfriend, my soccer team and kids at school would get used to it next.

"Hi," I yelled as I came in the door.

My mom screams ,"JONATHAN what did you do!!"

Right away my dad came from the tv room to see what was going on. He saw my hair and smiled.

"Two years ago we couldn't get him to get a haircut, now he wants his head shaved!" my dad says.

"I hope he keeps it like this instead of the mop he used to have," he says.

That was all I needed to hear, now I could keep my head shaved. My dad loved it. He grew up in the 1950's and hated long hair. I know my poor mom wanted to cry seeing her son bald. She didn't though and took it like a champ.

At soccer practice my new shaved head got mixed reactions, many people kept starring at me all day. Most people seemed to like it. One kid put some suntan lotion on my head for me. I loved how that felt. I could tell he liked feeling my shaved head.I also realized I was very tan, but my head was white. It would brown up in a week or so. Except for the big ears the whole head was perfect. I had a nice head shape. Even the ears looked ok after I got used to them exposed. It did look good. Like a little kid version of Yul Brenner.

Nancy my girlfriend was a little shocked. She knew I might get a flatttop, but not bald. After she felt it and saw it awhile she was ok with it. As I walked around school on Monday I heard comments. Look, that kid shaved his head. Why is he bald? Baldy! Where did your hair go? Can I touch that? Are you crazy? Look some guy is bald. Who is that? Is that Jonathan?

After about a month my hair started to fill in and grow. I really wanted it shaved again. Even my younger brother Eric told me it's getting long again Jonathan. You need another head shave. I tried to get him to shave his head, "NO WAY!!" he said.

I wanted to go to the peluqueria (mexican barber shop) again. I loved the feeling of this old place. I never wanted to go back to Ron's Barber Shop again. I also wanted to talk my friend Paul into going with me. Paul wanted to shave his head. He loved how the water had just repelled off my bald head when we went surfing. He had a dark, dark brown mop of shoulder length hair. I also wanted someone else to be bald with me too. He could be talked into it.

Sure enough three days later I talked Paul into heading over to Sanchez Peluqueria (barber shop) with me. He was the only friend I had crazy enough to shave his head in 1975. We road our bikes over there after school. I was not so nervous anymore. I could sense Paul was though. We walked in and both the good looking and the bald barber when there. Each was trimming two teenagers longer hair.

"Hola, Como esta?" they said.

"We're fine hi," I said.

Paul looked around nervously. I was afraid he'd back out. He'd gotten money and even permission from his dad to shave his head bald. My mom had given me money too. We sat and waited awhile. I couldn't believe how much hair these two Mexican kids still had on their heads when they got out of the chair! Their black hair was still well over their ears and feathered in front.

Soon it was time for our haircuts. I got into the chair of my usual barber, the good looking one. Paul got the bald one.

"How do you want jur hair cut?" my barber asks.

"Shaved all off," I say.

"No hair, afeitarse la cabeza," he says.

"Jur sure, no pelo, bald," he says

"Yes, and my friend bald too," I say.

"Tell the other barber my friend Paul over there wants no hair, rapada, shaved," I tell my barber.

Then he tells the other bald barber to shave Paul's long hair all off. They don't really ask are you sure too much like in a style place. The clippers hum on and start cutting. I'm not so nervous this time and really enjoy my head being shaved again. I love the feel of the barber's big hands touching my bald scalp. Also how he twists and moves my head. He pushes my bald head up against his stomach too while his using the clippers. Paul is a brave kid. He's the kind of kid who can fall on a skateboard, get all cut up and walk way without any emotion. No tears from him as his long dark hair is coming quickly off his head now.

I am shaved bald very quickly. I came into the shop with about an inch of hair all around. Paul is taking a lot longer to get shaved. I watch and he is looking good. He's got a perfect face, ears and head to be bald. He is very dark skinned too. I am amazed at how different he is looking. He even laughs a little in the barber chair as I sit and watch from the waiting seats. I am so happy he went through with this. I don't think I'll ever get my other friend Jeffery to shave his head though. Soon we will pay and head out of this barber shop and head to the beach.

---