The Urge (part 4) by Tightcutoz

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I awake early on the Saturday morning, but the day is already bright and hot.

I probably won’t be able to get back to sleep again and I’m starving anyway

I head to the bathroom to empty the bladder, and afterwards when washing my hands, I see myself in the mirror: shirtless and a little sleepy, the hair is bit disorganised by still recognisable as a flattop. It’s been 12 days since I’ve had it, but still can’t get over that it’s actually what I look like now. Drying my hands off I reach up and rub the back a little. Then the top. ‘Very slick’ I think to myself.

I grab a t-shirt from my room and head back to the bathroom. Out of the top left draw a grab a small jar of butchwax that dad gave me and rub a small amount in my fingers. I run them through the hair and then use a comb to try to get it pretty neat.

I’m getting better at straightening it up as the days go by.

Happy that it’s now neat, I head downstairs to find some food.

Dad is already up in the kitchen, eating some toast and reading the paper. I suppose I should not be surprised.

‘morning’ he murmurs over the top of the paper

‘yeah, hey dad’ I say in response

I decide for toast as well and put 3 pieces in the machine and go to make a coffee.

‘that stuff will stunt your growth’ dad says with disdain. he does not like coffee

‘ha ha, hardly - I’m already bigger than you’ I retort

collecting my toast, and the jam I sit down at the table

‘what’s your plans for today then?’ dad asks

‘uh, meeting up with tommy later - swim and a movie. Maybe going out tonight too.’

‘and when are we going to the barber then?’ he asks over the newspaper

My heart rate rises substantially.

‘oh….’ I say

‘you’re due.’ he says quietly ‘Almost overdue really, if you are planning on keeping the flattop anyway"

‘well yeah…I think so’ I say and carelessly give it a bit of a rub.

"And I’m due a cut" dad say - and yes, I agree his hair is longer than standard

"today then" I say softly

"yep" dad says with finality "like in 5 minutes, get yourself ready"

my heart rate increases, but I remind myself that I’ve already done this - it should be easy.

"I’ll meet you in the car then" dad says getting up

I finish my breakfast and clean up my plates.

I wander out to the car and dad is already there

"about time buddy" he says shaking his head

we get in and he starts driving

"so, keeping the flattop? you did tell Silvio you would…." dad says

"ah yeah dad" I say

"good. I’m glad" he says

the rest of the trip is quiet, but after we pull up dad asks "so…. did you like the second flattop better than the first?’

‘yeah, I did dad’ I reply

"I thought so.’ he says ‘you certainly were rubbing it enough’

dad still makes no move to get out of the car

‘do I get to pick your haircut this time too?’ dad says

‘yeah, why not?’ I say with a bit of a laugh "not like you can go any shorter"

dad doesn’t say anything for a moment

"well, I’m not sure that’s true…." he says

with that I stop laughing.

"when I was your age, I didn’t actually have a flattop, I had something else…."

With that he reaches into his pants pocket and pulls something out - a photo.

he holds it out so I can see, and it’s not one I’ve seen before

There is a young smiling boy, maybe 12, who is clearly my father

But there is not a flattop to be seen - instead it’s a high and tight with whitewalls. From my knowledge of haircuts, I’d probably even call it a recon.

"your grandad was actually a bit of a stickler about a lot of things, and we were poor - we didn’t go to a barber much, so he did mostly did my haircuts growing up. He wasn’t talented enough to do a flattop though - I didn’t get one of those until I was 18 and could afford a barber myself with my own money"

"Oh ok dad - I didn’t really know that" I say

"yes, you wouldn’t - it was a long time ago….’ he says

the car goes back to silent, not uncomfortable but noticeable.

"If you’re up for it……. it would mean a lot to me if you’d give this haircut a go…. I mean, you don’t have to keep it like that……. but it is summer, it should grow back to whatever you want, if that is a flattop……it wouldn’t take too long I mean, it would grow back fairly quickly…’ he trails off.

dad is blabbering, I’ve rarely heard him less articulate

He starts up again "but if I have a say in your haircut, that’s the one I choose"

my heart races, but I don’t say anything

Dad pats me on the shoulder with a smile.

‘have a think about it, you don’t have to. I’ll get my hair done first anyway’ and with that he gets out of the car without waiting for me to say anything.

he’s hallway to the shop when I catch up to him, and we walk in together

Dad seems to have gotten his swagger back and he calls out "Hello Silvio!!"

The barbershop is again empty, but this time the barber is sweeping up a pile of hair rather than sitting down.

"Good morning gentlemen" he replies as he looks up, "I’m glad to see you both here - right on time! no waiting"

"yes, we are both due" my dad says.

the barber nods: ‘I agree’ he says looking back and forth between us.

"So, who is first?" the barber enquires as he finishes collecting the short hair.

"That would be me" dad says, as he moves towards the chair.

Suddenly I remember that I haven’t seen dad’s haircut actually being cut for years, not since I was a boy - and I temporarily forget our conversation from the car.

Dad hops up into the chair and sits heavily but relaxed.

The barber tidies up his equipment before grabbing a large red cape, shaking it out and wrapping it around my father’s neck.

Dad can see my looking at him in the mirror and gives me a smile and a wink.

"alright then: regular or something special" the barber enquires.

"nice and short, please" he replies

"military short like your son then?" the barber asks, his eye flicking over to me

‘ah…. well not the razor â€" but short’ he says

‘of course - if you’re sure then’ the barber replies with a thumbs up.

The barber grabs the big set of clippers lined up on the counter.

I know these are Osters. I felt them before. But I also have done research.

He plays around for a second then flicks the on. That loud but now familiar buzzing sound starts up. He clicks on a metal attachment and then turns to dad.

I am very excited, and I hold back for a second, but I take my phone out to try to capture a few pictures.

The barber places his hand on my father’s head and tips it firmly towards his chest.

Lining the clippers up at the nape of his neck, he then slides them up the back. The sound changes and hair builds up on the top of the clippers before sliding off and falling to the floor. The black clump of hair lands silently.

The barber keeps on sliding them until he almost reaches the crown before tipping them to the side so the hair falls off.

There is now a perfectly white stipe of skin, with so little hair you can’t see it. I’m not even sure I’d call it stubble.

He repeats his glides from the nape to the grown next to his original pass.

Swipe after swipe the hair is clipper down to almost nothing â€" the back of dad’s head is just white skin.

The barber moves to the left and the clippers start next to dad’s ear and slide up to his temple; this gives me a different view of the hair being sheared from his head.

I can see dad in the mirror, and he appears very relaxed â€" I suppose he is very used to this by now.

The barber puts the clippers behind dad’s ear and then slides them round clearing black hair as he goes. A few more swipes and the white skin now covers the left.

The chair is twisted 180 and dad is now facing me, but his head is angled downwards so he can’t look at my really.

The process is repeated on the right, with more hair being clipped off and quite a pile building up on the cape and ground. When that is completed only longish black hair is left on Dad’s crown

The clippers are switched off and the shop is silent.

The chair is rotated again, so dad faces the mirror â€" the barber repositions his head, so he is looking straight up.

The barber grabs a comb and starts shaping the top. Dads hair has clearly been trained and doesn’t need much effort to form the basis of a flattop, but still the barber grabs some wax and rubs it through dad hair, which he then brushes straight up perpendicular to his scalp.

Dad seems to be watching what the barber does quite closely.

With a click the clippers are returned to action. The barber then brings the comb at right angles to the stalk of the hair, makes sure it is level and slides the clippers across.

He does this again and again. The shape is generally that of a flat brush but with a depression in the centre where the hair is shorter. Pass after pass, it’s looking more like dad’s regular flattop, and it is looking almost complete.

He puts down the big clippers and grabs a smaller set, plugs them in and switches them on. They make a higher buzzing sound. He starts at the nape of Dad’s neck and as he slides them up.

I notice that the path left behind is somehow even paler, though I can’t see what hair is actually being clippers away. When he stops and tips the hair off it is barely noticeable as it falls to the ground. He re-buzzes the back, and then both sides and I think the shorter hair even more impresses the flat brush of hair that is lining the top of Dads head.

The guy brushes dad hair again and grabs his comb to re-sculpt the top.

The little clippers are switch on again, and the barber starts up the same process of working on the top.

Again, it looks like little hair is actually cut, but the difference makes it seem even sharper.

Eventually, he goes "Now Andrew, time to hold very still" and he slides the bare blades of the clippers along a portion of the top of Dad’s head, creating a white mark.

He then re-sculpts the area around it and shuts off the clippers. He brushes it again and looks for imperfections, checking for flat-ness with the palm of him hand. He doesn’t find any and moves on to looking at the sheared backs and sides of Dads’ scalp. Again, he uses his hand for looking for inhomogeneous stubble and finds a small patch that he quickly shears down to size with the small clippers.

"I think that’s it then" the barber says

The barber grabs a mirror and shows dad the cleared back of his head. Dad reaches out from under the cape and puts his hand on the back and slides it up. After that he twists his head to the side to get a good view and again gives it feel with his hand. He then tips his head forward to look at the top. The white mark of almost shaved scalp is like a dot in the centre of his head that trails toward the back of his head. He eventually says "Good, really good"

The barber removes the large red cape and shakes it out. Dad stands up slowly.

He walks over, takes a seat next to me, turns and says, "What do you think Luke? Acceptable?

"Yeah…I think so" I say, almost stuttering

"I agree" he replies and again stares into the mirror across from him to check out his reflection. I continue to face in his direction and get to see that short stubble close up. It really is quite short, shortest I’ve seen for ages.

"Do you want to touch it Luke?" Dad asks.

"Um…. yeah". I reply.

Still sitting I put my right hand at the nape of his neck and slide it up, kind of gripping my hand around his scalp. The short hair feels prickly.

When I repeat the process, Dad goes "which feels better â€" mine this time or yours last time?’

"ah I don’t know’ I reply. ‘maybe yours’

He nods, perhaps in agreement, and I feel the sandpaper-lined back of his head shift under me. I shift my attention to the left side of his head and use my thumb to slide past the area where he shaved his face early that day and where he was almost shaved a few minutes ago.

It does feel different â€" there is slightly more hair on the side than on his jaw. It’s not perfectly shave, but it’s pretty close!!

I stand up because I want to get a better look at the top of his head. I slide my hand across the brush of hair, careful like Dad not to mess it up, and come to the closely clipped area in the centre of his head. It feels just like the sides do.

I’m interrupted by the barber: "alright Luke, you’re up"

(to be continued part 5)

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