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Grandpa by Chovanec
Excuse my weak English, it's not my native language. I know the story from my colleague's story and I write it on his behalf.
My name is Aaron and in 1979 I was 15 years old. I had 3 younger brothers. Ben was 12, Cody was 10 and Frank was 7. It has been over 2 years since my father left us and only our mother took care of us. She worked almost all day to make enough money. Since my father left, I've only been to a modern barber's for a small haircut 4 times. My hair was about 12 inches long and I was proud of it. The youngest brother had the shortest hair, but he also had fairly long covering ears and a shirt collar. I have to admit that our father's school results have deteriorated since my father left. I was the worst off.
One Saturday, Dedo came to us and had a lot of luggage with him. We learned that he will live with us and help his mother with our upbringing. He gave each of us written new rules according to which we would follow, as he showed us his helpers a cane and a leather belt. He gradually changed our clothes to be according to his ideas.
On Monday, when I came home from school, he told us that he had found a great barber for us and that we were getting a haircut. I started to argue that I was at my modern barber about 3 months ago and I don't need to cut or change my barber yet. Which convinced me to go with my grandfather.
I wanted to show my grandfather our modern barber shop, but my grandfather didn't care and we went on. A spinning light rod could be seen in the distance. I was hoping Grandpa wouldn't take us to Wilson's barber shop. We have 4 ancient barbers, but Mr. Wilson is the most feared barber for young boys. The closer we got to the spinning bar, the chances of us going to another barber shop diminished. Grandpa stood in front of Wilson's barber shop with the words: Come on in, this is your new barber. My legs were torn, but my grandfather pushed me inside with the words: Aaron don't make trouble because you'll get another 25 on your ass at home.
I was in this barber shop for the first time. It was an ancient barber shop with a barber chair, right after entering I smelled barber hair products and was burned by thick smoke from cigarettes. The barber was about 60 years old, wearing a white long coat. A gentleman sat in his chair, and three other old gentlemen sat on a waiting wooden bench.
When it was our turn, the youngest Frank went first. The barber gave him a wooden high chair for the children and Grandpa put him on it. When the barber wrapped Frank in a white sheet, he asked Grandpa what it would be like today. Grandpa told him that he wanted him to make a boy out of him. The barber smiled, combing Frank's hair. I stared at the old yellowed pictures on the walls for a moment. When I heard another in the barber's chair, Cody was already sitting. Grandpa told the barber that he wanted a boy out of him too. I looked at Frank, hairless in the back of the middle of his head, and on the top of his head he had about an inch long hair combed forward and cut high on his forehead. Almost his entire forehead was visible. Tears rolled down Frank's cheeks. I knew that I would leave the barber shop with relatively short hair and that my ears would be visible after years, but I believed that as the oldest I would have the longest hair.
I'm still watching Frank's little head. I see Ben getting up from the waiting wooden bench and walking into the barber's chair. A clipped Cody with the same hairstyle as Frank's sat on the bench. I look at the chair and the barber lifts Ben's hair with a comb and cuts about half of it. I didn't hear my grandfather tell the barber, but Ben's hairstyle looked pretty good so far, and I began to believe that the older ones would have longer hair. When the barber put the scissors on his counter from the hook, he kicked the big scissors off, Ben put his head forward, and the scissors began to cut his hair from the neck upwards. I watched as Ben's long hair fell to the ground.
The barber was making the final adjustments to Ben's head, and Grandpa was already sending me to the chair. I still believed that I would not get such a hairstyle. When the barber wrapped me in a white sheet, he asked my grandfather if he should give me the same hairstyle as my brothers got. Grandpa said no. Give him a tall and firm one. I didn't know what that meant but I still believed it wouldn't be as short as the brothers. The barber cut my long hair and my head was getting smaller. I've seen my ears a bit. When my barber put my head forward, my chin touched my chest. I noticed the big scissors and felt the cold metal teeth on my neck. The unpleasant sound of electric scissors and their teeth cut my beautiful hair mercilessly. Again, the scissors are on the neck and rise towards the top of the head. As the barber tilted my head to one side, he put the scissors over my cheeks and climbed up with them. He repeated the same thing again and I saw my skin all the way to the top of my head. My heart started beating hard and I was afraid that my hairstyle would be shorter than I thought. When the barber finished the other side of my head, I only had long hair on top of my head. The barber asked if he should cut off # 2 or # 3.5? Grandpa said number 2. My head was tilted back and I could only see the ceiling of the barber shop. I felt scissors on my forehead and heard them remove my hair.
The barber untied the sail and I was about to jump out of the chair. But his strong hand pushed me back into the chair. We're not done yet boy! He shook the sail and fastened it around my neck again. He applied white cream on the sides and back of my head, which he gradually scraped off with a sharpened razor. Finally, he wiped the remnants of the foam with a tarpaulin. He stood behind me with a small mirror to show me the back of my head. I couldn't believe my eyes. I saw only white skin, only about 1/4 inch long hair was on the top of the head. Out of decency, I thanked and ran out of the barber shop. I rubbed my hips and the back of my head with my hands in front of the barber shop, but I didn't find a single forgotten hair. Everything was perfectly shaved.
At home, I learned from my grandfather that I had received this hairstyle as part of the punishment for my misbehavior when I had to go to the barber. At the same time, my grandfather informed us that we would go to Wilson's barber again in 4 weeks. And he told me and Beny that if we didn't improve our results at school by then, we would get the same hair style as I have now.
We both tried to get the best results. Neither of us wanted hair only on top of our heads.
The next day at school, I was the center of attention and ridicule, even from classmates who had conservative parents and wore short hair.