I scoffed - part 2 by Domko

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I scoffed - part 2
I recommend reading the previous part:I scoffed
It's been almost 4 weeks since my last haircut. That time I got a drastic haircut at the old fashioned Watkins barbershop after James Nelson forcibly cut off a large chunk of hair from the back of my neck because I was making fun of him for having it cut short again. My hair had grown about 1/2 inch and was starting to touch the tips of my ears. I was wondering how long I would wait for my hair to grow to its original length of about 12 inches.
Then, after coming home from the barbershop, my father asked me if it was true that I had laughed at James Nelson when he came to school with a haircut. With my head bowed and my voice low, I admitted that it was true and promised my father that it would never happen again. My father accepted it completely cool and remarked that he believed that I would no longer laugh at boys with haircuts.
It was Friday and James Nelson told me that we would probably meet at Watkins barber shop the next day. At that I started laughing at him, that he can go there but I will never set foot there again.
On Saturday at breakfast, my father told me that at 9 o'clock we would go to the city together. On the way, I asked him where we were going and he told me that we were going to the barber. I started to protest and reminded him that I promised not to make fun of not only James but also other boys with short hair. Then my father told me that when I have short hair I will have no reason to make fun of others. He also told me that I had freedom in my hairstyle and I disappointed him by making fun of those who didn't have such freedom. I begged my father to forgive me and we didn't go to the old fashioned Watkins barbershop, but my father insisted that it would be my barbershop now and I would go there as often as James. I couldn't believe what I heard from my father. When we opened the door to the barber shop, my knees started to buckle.
We walked into Watkins Barbershop. Several old men and James Neslon's father were sitting on the waiting chair. I looked at the barber's chair. James was sitting there, the barber pushing his head forward and cutting the hair at the back of his head. In about 10 minutes, James had his hair cut the way I was used to it in the past. I wished that he would leave the barbershop with my father so that he wouldn't see me sitting in the barber's chair. But our fathers continued to talk. That's why James sat down next to me on the free waiting chair and with a smile on his face asked me what you were doing at Watkins barbershop. You said you would never come here again. I had to admit that my father won't let me have long hair anymore. Then I asked him if he goes to the barbershop once a month. He laughed and said once in 2 weeks. I cried out: so often? James laughed and said I'll get used to it too.
When the barber called me to his chair, I once again looked at my father with a request that I don't have to get a haircut, but my father just nodded his head and motioned for me to go sit there. The barber wrapped me in a white sheet, turned towards my father and asked my father: Today we will cut the boy's hair like the last time. I screamed with all my might. Please do not. Dad smiled and told me to cut my hair the way James is cut.
The barber was already pushing my head forward and cutting the nape of my neck, then he made about 1 inch arcs around my ears. He fixed the hair on top of my head and cut the bangs straight high above my eyebrows. He continued to transition from the shortest stubble to the length at the top of the head. He applied white cream around my ears and on part of the back of my neck, which he later scraped off. He applied the liquid to my hair and combed it.
The barber undid the sheet I was wrapped in and I was able to jump off his chair. I stroked the back of my head with my hand and examined how I was cut on the back of my head.
When we were leaving the barbershop, I noticed James' head better. He too had bangs cut high above his eyebrows and about 1 inch arcs of white skin around his ears and then gradual stubble. Half of the nape was shaved clean.
I knew that on Monday I would be the center of ridicule with James.
I timidly asked my father when I would have to cut my hair again. He just told me to look in the calendar, that it is marked there. James wasn't lying, Saturday two weeks from now it said 9:00 Watkins barber shop.
No amount of pleading or promises helped me to avoid a regular bi-weekly haircut.

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