Meeting on the bus in 1970 – part 2 by Jajko

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I recommend reading the first part of the story first.
In 1970 I was 13 years old. I lived only with my mother, I never saw my father.
Since I went with my mother to her hairdresser, who cut my hair since I was little, and on the way on the bus we met her colleague who went to Mr. Smith's barber shop with sons Michael and Edward, about 2 months have passed and my hair has grown by about 1 thumb. After my last haircut, I was the fifth boy in the class with a short haircut, and I believed that I would never step into Mr. Smith's barber shop again.
After coming home from work, my mother told me that she needed me to go shopping with her in the city center. We were waiting for the bus. When we boarded, I saw Michael, Edward and their father on the bus. I didn't feel good about it. Finally, all five of us got off the bus. But when we were approaching Mr. Smith's barber shop, I knew that my mother had cheated me and wanted me to go get a haircut with the boys. I shouted that I will not go to Mr. Smith's barbershop. At that, my mother's colleague grabbed my hand, pulled me to him and started shouting at me that if I didn't go to the barbershop voluntarily, he would pull down my pants and hit me on my bare ass with a belt right on the street among people. I got scared. When we were sitting on the waiting chairs, my mother's colleague sat down next to me. I wanted to escape, but I had no chance. My every move was being watched. After about half an hour I was called to Holič's chair. My mother's colleague escorted me and waited until the barber cut my hair.
Mr. Smith oiled his scissors. He pushed my head to the left side and made an arch about 1 1/2 inches above my right ear. At that, the mother's colleague intervened and told the barber that I was rude, so let him cut my hair an inch higher. I saw the barber's smile in the mirror and did as he was told. He certainly did the same on the other side of the left side of the head. When he tilted my head forward, he asked how high he should cut the back of my head. I felt a finger on my head and the barber was instructed to cut my hair. I'm supposed to have 1/2 inch long hair on the top of my head.
When the barber applied foam around my ears and the back of my head, I saw that the sides of my head were almost entirely white. The barber carefully scraped off the lather, wiped the rest of the lather with a towel, and applied cologne. When I left the barber's chair, I stroked the back of my head with my hands. Michael and Edward were cut like 2 months ago. I had a shorter haircut than them during my sleep. I felt very humiliated.
After we left Mr. Smith's barbershop, all five of us went for dessert. Here, my mother's colleague announced to everyone that they had made an agreement with my mother and were going to get married. My mother and I will move in with him. He told me to call him father and Michael and Edward to call my mother mother.
I was glad to have brothers, they were good boys, but I was afraid of the new father, who was strict and I was afraid of regular visits to Mr. Smith's barbershop.
My mother married her colleague, I had new brothers and a father. For several years, my brothers and I went to Mr. Smith's barber shop every other month for his traditional short boy haircut. I never again had the courage to say I wasn't going to the barber when my father ordered it.
When I got home I checked my new haircut as a punishment for not wanting to go to Mr. Smith's barbershop. I checked the back of the head with the help of hand mirrors. When I saw that I only had stubble about an inch from the top of my head, just like the sides, and the rest was cleanly shaved, I started to cry. It was the worst haircut in his 13 years.

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