Mohawk of Discord by RicardoBarber

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The best part of growing up in a barbershop was that every day we had a lot of different customers, which resulted in different things happening every day. Over the years, my father and my grandpa (and I) have witnessed many interesting, strange, amusing and embarrassing situations, and some not-so-good as well.

This case happened in January, maybe in 2005. As you may know, summer in the southern hemisphere takes place between December and March, but here in Brazil it is summer through the whole year. It was a very hot day, and we had a lot of work at the barbershop. In an attempt to relieve the heat a little, many men came get their hair cut short. I was helping at the barbershop by sweeping customers' hair after my dad and my grandpa cut them. Things got easier after lunch time. Dad and grandpa had both a customer in their chairs and there were two more waiting their turns. So, two boys walked into the shop and I recognized them from the school. The first one was Victor and we were classmates. He had light blond hair that was slightly wavy and parted to the right. If combed forward, his bangs reached the tip of his nose. The other boy was his cousin, Hugo. Hugo’s hair was darker, almost golden, and as long as Victor's but straight and slicked back.

Hugo had a reputation for being a troublemaker, and was always up to no good. A real pain in the neck to his parents. My father had said several times that he didn't want me hanging out with him, since the boy was a bad company.

The two boys greeted the barbers and sat down to wait. Victor was very discouraged. He obviously didn't want to be there. On the other hand, Hugo was having a blast. Probably making fun of his cousin. They were talking to each other in a low voice, so that only they could hear. That's when Hugo saw me, and his smile got even bigger.

"Hey, Ricardo," he said. "Are you going to get a haircut?"
"No," I replied. "I live here. The barbers are my father and my grandfather."
"Oh. Well, Victor getting one. I am accompanying him".
"Ricardo", my father called me to the chair, where a customer had finished and another was taking his place. He whispered to me. "Watch out for that boy. Don't let him get you into trouble."
"I will, dad," I replied.
"Atta. Now sweep the hair."

After sweeping, I went back to the waiting area, trying to sit away from Hugo without seeming too obvious, but he got up from where he was with his cousin and sat right next to me, running a hand through my hair.

"You know, Ricardo. Your hair is kind of long. I thought since your father is a barber he would keep you bald for life." Not that Hugo had noticed, but my dad my dad shot him an offended and irritated glare. My hair wasn't long. I had it cut three weeks ago with an inch on the top and a #2 on the back and sides. "You should cut like Victor"
"Shut up, Hugo," Victor said.
"Hey, it's not my fault. You knew what you were getting into."

Victor lowered his head and muttered something no one heard. Hugo just laughed again. Soon, my father finished with the client and invited Victor to the chair. Chair facing the mirror, as it usually was in our barbershop. My grandfather had also finished and sat down on the couch, calling me to sit next to him. Probably to keep Hugo away from me.

"So, how do we cut today?", my dad asked, fastening the cape around Victor's neck. At that moment, Hugo got up and walked to the chair. The mischievous smile never left his face.
"Give him a Mohawk," he said. Victor just groaned in defeat.
"A Mohawk?" my father asked in disbelief.
"Yea. Shaved to the skin and the middle erect with gel".
"It is right," Victor said dejectedly.
"Do your parents know you're doing it?" my grandfather asked suspiciously.
"Yes", Hugo replied, sitting in my grandfather's chair. "They don't like it, but we got their permission anyway."

My grandpa hated the Mohawk. To him it was a symbol of rebellion and bad behavior. But if the boys had their parents' permission, then there was nothing he could do. My dad combed Victor's hair above the temple to the left, separating the hair that would be shaved off. He put the clippers on the base of Victor's right ear moved it up the boy's head until the separation. Victor's hair fell into his lap and the boy had a tear forming at the sight of the shaved area in the reflection. It was like a house of cards coming down when you fail into raising a new floor. Hugo was still laughing, taking advantage of his seat in the first row for his cousin's make over.

"Your head is so white, Victor," he commented. "’You’ll need wear a lot of sunscreen before you leave home if you don't want sunburns."

Since Victor's hair was so light, it looked like there wasn't anything left when my dad buzzed it all off. You could only see the stubble if you looked closely at his head. Victor ran his hand over the shaved area, feeling the microscopic, barely visible strands of hair that remained.

"It looks like sandpaper," he said.
"I'll shave it later to clean everything up," my dad replied.
"I don't think there's much to clean up there," Hugo said.
"The razor will make it very smooth. It's a huge difference. You will see".

Soon, the right side of Victor's head had been shaved and my dad combed the hair to the right so he could do the same thing on the left. The Mohawk had got shape. Victor had gone from dismay to irritation when Hugo commented on how big his ears were now that there was no hair to hide them. My grandfather didn't like Hugo's mocking attitude either and was holding himself back from teaching the boy a lesson right there. Once my dad was done with the clippers, he ran a hand through Victor's remaining hair, studying the next step.

"Your hair is a little longer on top," my dad said. "I'll have to cut it to match the back or the mohawk will be uneven."
"Do what you have to," Victor complained. "I just want it over soon."

Victor had about two inches of hair on back. My dad got a comb and a pair of scissors and started cutting the hair on top of Victor's head. In the mirror, I could see small pieces of hair falling into Victor's face, who was squirming, trying to get rid of the hair that was clumping together. My father was quick with the scissors. Our customers commented that he was very skilled with the tool. Some of them joked that the first thing he did when he was born was grab a pair of scissors and cut the doctor's hair. Just of your information, if you say it you my dad gives you’re a haircut shorter than you asked.

Moving on, my dad grabbed a bottle of gel and spread a good amount through Victor's hair. Then he grabbed a brush and hairdryer, plugged it in and brushed the boy's hair up. Hugo had stopped laughing, but he was still having fun watching the action.

"This cut looks good on you," Hugo said.

Finishing up getting the mohawk up, my dad made got shaving foam and smeared it on one side of Victor's head. Victor squirmed a little, but my dad told him to stay put.

"You have to stay still or I might end up nicking you by accident."

My dad started, moving the razor from top to bottom carefully. He applied more foam and shaved it all down again, from bottom to top this time. Then he asked Victor to feel both sides of his head to see the difference. Victor shivered feeling the smooth side of his head. Hugo got up from where he was and ran his hands along the sides of his cousin's head to feel it too.

After my dad had done the same process on the other side, the cut had come to an end. Victor got up from the chair and hurried out of the shop as soon as he was free of the cape. He obviously didn't like the cut. Hugo on the other hand couldn't be more pleased with the result. He paid for the cut and headed outside. Before leaving, he turned to me and spoke.

"You should make the same cut, Ricardo. It would look great on you." And he left.
"You are forbidden to cut your hair into a Mohawk, Ricardo", my grandfather said, getting up from where he was and sitting in the barber's chair. "I should put a sign on the door saying no mohawks in this store."
"I don't want you anywhere near Hugo either," my father said. "If he tries call you to hang out, make an excuse and walk away. Now, sweeps this hair, son. At least that story is over."

But it wasn't over. It was just the beginning. The stream of customers slowed throughout the day, so my father and grandpa were sitting in their chairs. My grandfather decided to close the shop and was getting up to do it when two men entered. One of them had blond hair slicked back while the other was bald. The bald man was very angry.

"May I help, gentlemen?" my grandfather asked.

The bald man didn't pay much attention to my grandfather, he walked to my father and grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

"You are the guy who cut my son's hair, aren't you? You did that".

My father was confused but understood what the man was talking about when Hugo and Victor walked into the shop, their heads down. They sat aside the other man in the waiting area. The bald man was Victor's father and he seemed to like his son's haircut even less than the boy. The other man was Hugo's father. He had the same hair as his son. Since the boys were cousins, the two men had to be brothers.

"My son said this is here that he got his hair cut like that," Victor's father said. "You did it, didn't you?"
"I did", my father said, getting rid of the other man's grip. "But the boys said they had your permission for that."
"And what kind of parent would give permission for something like that? He looks like a delinquent punk."
"Please keep calm," Hugo's father said.
"Don't tell me to keep calm. It was your son who came up with this idea. He knew our barber wouldn't do a cut like that and he came to this guy here."
"Hold on you," my grandfather interrupted the conversation. "You will not mistreat my son in my shop."

What followed was an argument the like I had never seen. Certain words that an eleven-year-old like me would never be allowed to repeat were shouted at my father. Hugo's father tried to keep things under control, but it was in vain. Victor's father didn't want to be calmed. He said he wanted to pin my dad to the barber's chair, grab clippers and give him a mohawk like the one he gave Victor. Of course, my grandfather threatened to call the police before things got hotter. The whole time, the boys got sat in silence, knowing they shouldn't make the things worse.

"What do you suggest we do?" my grandfather asked, trying to put an end to it all.
"First I want this crap out of my son's head," Victor's father said.

My dad called Victor back to the chair. It looked like his father would object to my father being the barber, but his brother stopped him before the fight restarted.

"By the way the boy's hair got, the only thing to do is shave it off," my father said.
"Do what you have to do," Victor's father said, going to sit in the waiting area. "If he had to go bald, so be it. That's what he gets for doing it behind my back."

Since Victor didn't have much hair anymore and it looked like the gel on his Mohawk had been washed off, the cut didn't take long. My dad just ran the clippers from the back of his head to the front. Victor was not disheartened this time. He obviously didn't like having to lose all his hair, but he was less upset that the Mohawk was going away. I couldn't tell who was more satisfied with that thing saying goodbye. Victor, his father or my father. My dad applied the shaving foam where the mohawk was and ran the razor over. Victor's head went completely smooth. My dad didn't charge for the new cut, which made Victor's dad less angry. Or at least, it didn’t seem he wanted to attack my father and cut his hair anymore.

"Now it's Hugo's turn", Victor's father said.
"What?" Hugo yelled in disbelief.
"This whole thing was your idea, kid," Victor's father said. "Because of you, my son doesn't have hair anymore, so you won't either."
"Is this really necessary?", Hugo's father spoke in his son's defense.
"And you're to blame too," Victor's father told his brother. "You didn't know how to raise your son properly so you're going to shave your head too, even if I have to drag you to the chair. That will be your punishment."

Hugo's father tried to argue, but it was in vain. Dad and grandpa were worried that something would happen, but Hugo and his father just sat in the chairs, Hugo with my grandfather and his father with mine. Victor’s father sat in the waiting area with his son. "You both will be as bald as I am," he said. I couldn't help but notice that he said it as he looked at me. Or rather, at my hair. My dad noticed it too and sent a furious glare in Victor's father's direction, who retreated after my dad’s reaction. It was like if my father was saying, "My son has nothing to do with this story. Leave him out of it or you won't like what I'm gonna do to you". As my grandfather used to say, there is a reason why our surname is Leão.

My grandfather started running the clippers over Hugo's head right on the middle. The boy tried to resist, but my grandfather had a firm hand holding the back of his head. But I could say he wasn't enjoying giving this punishment. He used to say cutting hair was fun, but obviously that was not the case now. He was cutting Hugo's hair faster than he normally did with the customers. Maybe he just wanted to have it all done soon. From where I was, I could only see all those big clumps of hair falling nonstop on Hugo's shoulders and the floor.

My dad started cutting Hugo's dad's hair from back. The man had accepted his fate without second thoughts. I think he knew his brother wouldn't let him get out of the barbershop any other way and wanted to get it over. He didn't react when large chunks of his hair fell in front of his face and piled up on the cape. I always wondered if my dad made the hair fall into his customers’ lap on purpose.

Victor's father got up from where he was, his mood had got a few better, and grabbed a cut lock of his brother's and nephew's hair. "Just a small memory of that day". My grandfather Since it was very light hair, it was not difficult to locate. I wonder if he kept those locks too long. Perhaps he still has them today.

Soon, Hugo and his father had their heads soaped and shaved with and against the grain and were released from their chairs. Victor's father even made his brother pay for both cuts.

"I hope you boys learned a lesson today," he said. "If something like this happens again I'll shave your heads myself. And you will keep it for a whole year. I would be able to shave the head of the barber's entire family too."

The comment was probably meant to annoy my father. Nothing made my father more furious than someone threatening me with something.

"I'm sure the barber would do the same to you. That is, if you had any hair for it, right?" my dad replied.

I confess I couldn't help but laugh. Victor's father didn't like it, but I ran to my father, who shot him another irritated look. The four baldheads left the store and my grandfather was quick to close everything, just to get the day finished.

Luckily for Hugo and Victor it was just January, which meant they had over a month to grow their hair back before the end the vacations. When classes started, all the other boys at school knew was that they both had shorter hair than usual.

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