A Heavy Pruning by Clay

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The weather has finally warmed up and the spring gardening season is in full force. Gardening is my hobby, so each afternoon when I get home from work I change into my grubby work clothes and head out for whatever pruning, weeding, transplanting or other garden chore needs to be done. About two weeks ago I came barging out of the gate of my fenced-in, private back yard, carrying a large flowerpot, and nearly crashed into someone walking down the sidewalk (I live on a corner lot, if you were wondering about the logistics of this.) Both the pedestrian and I were startled, and we each made quick apologies. The pedestrian then went on his way, but I continued to stare after him. He was a little taller than me and looked like he had quite a nice body under his well-cut business suit. But it was his shaved head, gleaming in the afternoon sunlight that really transfixed me.

Since the pedestrian had been dressed for work and was carrying a briefcase, I assumed he was commuting from t he large corporate headquarters than bordered my neighborhood. I decided I`d keep an look out for the shiny-headed walker.

I was rewarded the very next day. I was weeding a perennial bed on the side of the house where I could casually keep an eye on the main sidewalk. I caught a glimpse of him as he crossed the street. As he drew abreast of me I stood and said. `Sorry about nearly knocking you down yesterday. There`s not much traffic on this sidewalk, so I`m not always as careful as I ought to be.`

`Not a problem.` he replied, `You have a beautiful yard here.`

`Thanks, but I still have lots to do with it to get it looking the way I see it in my mind.`

`Well you have a great start.` And with that he turned and walked away.

The pedestrian and I seemed to fall into a routine over the next few days. I`d be working out in the yard and when he walked by he would stop and we would exchange a few pleasantries. I learned his name was Tom and that he did indeed work at the nearby corporate headquarters, having transferred there from an out-of-town office over the winter. Some days I would find it hard to concentrate on what he was saying because I was so enthralled with his beautiful, shining head. I guess I was being a little bit subtle about it, since he never seemed to notice my interest.

Yesterday I was pruning some dead branches out of a shrub when Tom walked by and stopped for our short daily chat.

`I have a horticultural questions for you,` he said. `What is that white-flowering bush over in the yard across the street?`

`That`s a bridalwreath spirea,` I replied. `It`s beautiful when it`s in full bloom like that.`

`Yes, it is. I think I have that same thing in my backyard, but it only has a few blooms on it. I wonder if there is something wrong with it?`

`They are very reliable bloomers, maybe you have it in a spot that is too shady for it.`

`No`, he said, `It`s out in the full sun. Maybe you could take a look at it for me sometime?`

`Sure, in fact, how about right now.`

Tom agreed to my proposal, so I stuffed my hand pruners into my back pocket, brushed my hair off my forehead and quickly locked my front door. I walked with him the two and half blocks to his home and out into his backyard.

I could see the problem with his spirea right away. Like every other shrub in the yard it had been pruned into a perfect globe. I pointed this out to him.

I told him, `Spireas bloom on new growth. When you prune it so tightly you are taking off most of the new growth. And the flower buds with it.`

I laughed at his chagrin. `You will have to decide it you want flowers or geometrically perfect globes.`

`I`ll have to think on that,` he said, `I hate anything that`s shaggy looking.`

`That`s obvious,` I said and pointedly stared at his shaved head.

He grinned and ran his hand up over his head. `I do love a perfectly shaved head. Whenever I see some good-looking guy with a unruly mop like yours, I want to hold him down and shear him like a sheep. Or a shrub.`

I was struck speechless by his statement and I don`t know what kind of look I had on my face but now it was his turn to laugh at me.

`I think you like shaved heads too, judging from the way you are always looking at mine. How about I make you a deal. If you`ll give my spirea a proper pruning, I`ll give your head a proper pruning, right down to the wood.`

I don`t what I was thinking or if I was thinking, but I let out a strangled okay. I got to work on his spirea immediately. I took out a lot of the old wood and opened the shrub up so that the new growth could come in healthy. As I was doing this I kept thinking, I don`t want my head shaved. Why am I doing this. But then I would admit that I also wanted that handsome, shiny-headed man giving his full attention to making me look the way he thought I should look.

I finished the shrub and walked into his house, my first visit there. I entered through the backdoor into the kitchen. Tom had set up a chair there and had placed clippers, razor and shave gel on the table beside the chair. He had changed out of his expensive business suite and was now wearing only a pair of jeans. I could now see the sell-built chest and flat stomach that his suits had hinted at. I could also see that he shaved his chest too.

Tom said, `Looks like you did a good job out there, if the amount of leaves and sticks on the ground is any indication. Sit down and soon we`ll have a lot of hair on the ground too. Oh, and pull your shirt off. I don`t want to get hair down your collar.`

I did as he said.

`You've quite a furry chest and stomach. I can take care of that too. In fact let`s start with that.` The clippers whirled to life and before I could react he had buzzed bare a circle around my left nipple. He happily continued laying waste to my chest hair and continued down to the waistband of my pants. He left only a little trail of hair from my naval to the top button of my pants.

`Maybe someday, I can take the shaving even farther south, but right now I want to concentrate on revealing that beautiful head I know that you`re hiding under all that hair.`

I tensed up as I heard the clippers begin to buzz again. He pushed my chin down to my chest and proceeded to run the clippers up the back of my head. I relaxed and seemed to lose track of time as he clippered off my shaggy brownish blond hair. There was no mirror in the kitchen that I could see, but the hair on floor told me that he wasn't holding back. After what seemed like an hour, or was it a minute, the clippers went silent. Then I was nearly catapulted from the chair by the feel of Tom`s hands running over my newly-revealed scalp.

I reached up to feel for myself, but Tom swatted my hands aside. `You don`t get to touch until I`m completely finished.` He picked up the can of shave gel and proceeded to lather up my head. Another jolt went through me as I first felt the razor blade run down the drown of my head. Tom`s touch with the razor was incredible. Although he seemed to work slowly, all too soon he was done. He wiped my head with a towel and then spread an aloe gel over my head. Each new sensation sent new electricity through me.

`You now have a beautiful shaved head,` he announced. `But it sure is blinding white compared to your gardening tan. What are you waiting for? Give it a rub.`

I tentatively put one hand up to my head. It felt unlike it had ever felt, yet it felt completely right. Soon I had both hands on my head enthusiastically rubbing every square inch of it.

`I can't believe how great it feels. Thank you.` I stood and hugged him and as I did he touched his shaved head to mine. At that moment, even though I hadn't even seen it yet, I knew I was a convert to permanent shaved head status.

When Tom finally handed me a mirror, I have to admit I was pretty taken aback. I didn't look like myself and yet I also looked more like myself than I ever had. That`s the best I can explain it.

Tom said, `You look pretty good when you`re all pruned up.` Then he hooked a finger into the waistband of my jeans and lead me into the bedroom. But that`s a story for another day.

The End

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