Silence is more than gold. – part 4 by Vykonavatel77

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First, I would like to recommend reading the previous parts of the story.
My name is Michael and Bobby was my best friend. We spent a lot of time together. Bobby's father was in the army and he took both of us regularly every 3-4 weeks to get haircuts at Sergeant Simson's barber shop, where we got short military haircuts. In the 1970s, it was an unfashionable hairstyle and we were among a small group of boys with short haircuts. Boys with long hair always laughed at us after a haircut.
We were already 15 years old when, at the end of the school year, Bobby told me that they were moving to another city and he didn't know if we would ever see each other again. I was left very sad because Bobby was not only a best friend almost like a brother. Those who did not know us would say that we are brothers. We've always had the same short haircut.
Just before the end of the school year, we went to Seržanta Simson's barbershop for the last time. When I realized that I would no longer have to regularly come here for a short haircut, I was very happy, and after years I will be able to have long hair, which I will have trimmed at the Unisex barbershop.
The holidays were ending and school was starting in 2 or 3 days. Now I went to high school, where I will have new classmates and friends. My hair was about 4 inches long on the top of my head and slightly shorter on the back and sides of my head. My hair was already covering the top of my ears. I was looking forward to not having to go to the Unisek barbershop for a few more months.
Much to my surprise, my father told me that he had found me a new barber whose barber shop was only 2 blocks away. In horror, I asked if he meant the old-fashioned Wilson barber shop. I knew the barber was old and only did old-fashioned haircuts. Dad smiled and told me yes it's Wilson barber shop. He gave me money and told me to tell the barber that I was Michael. I started persuading my father so that I could have long hair again, but my father insisted that long hair does not suit me and that I am not a girl but a boy.
Reluctantly, I took the money and went to Wilson Barber Shop. My legs were breaking on the way, and I was thinking the whole way about what kind of haircut I was going to ask Mr. Wilson for. I went into the barbershop. All the equipment was old as was the barber Mr. Wilson. I said hello. The barber was cutting an old man's hair. He looked at me and said. are you michael Yes sir I replied. So sit down on the waiting chair, I'll take care of you in a moment. I did as he said. After about 5 minutes he said. Michael come here and sit down. He wrapped me in a sheet, pulled it tightly around my neck. He combed my hair. I said, Mr. Wilson, I'm asking you to do just a little bit of my hair. To this the barber replied. Michael I know what to do. And already his heavy left hand tightly gripped my head and pushed it forward. On my neck I felt the cold metal teeth of the clipper, which climbed high up the nape of my neck, in a moment it was cutting the hair on the right and then the left side of my head. I saw that only very short hair remained on the sides of my head. On the top of my head, he only adjusted my hair slightly and combed it upwards. The barber used a brush to remove my cut hair from the sheet around my neck. He replaced the metal teeth on the clipper, which were much finer. He tilted his head to the side. He bent my ear and ran the clipper around the ear. And I only noticed a very small stubble. Mr. Wilson made another arc higher with the clipper and I watched in horror as he cut. The barber did the same on the other side of my head. When he pushed my head forward, I felt the clipper go up the back of my neck. After turning off the clipper, he took a comb and scissors where he made a transition between the very small stubble and about 4 centimeters of hair on the top of my head.
The barber was preparing foam, which he then applied around his ears and on the back of his head. When he gradually scraped it off, he wiped the remains of the foam on a towel. He applied an oily cream to the hair on the top of my head and combed the 4 centimeter hair upwards. Around my ears I had 5 centimeter smooth shaven arches. The barber took the hand mirror and stood behind me. I could then see a shaved nape about 15-16 centimeters from the shirt collar. Tears welled up in my eyes when I saw my new hairstyle. The barber gave me home an oily cream to style my hair. When I was able to leave the barber's chair, I politely thanked the barber and paid for my scalping.
My father was very pleased with my hairstyle. He turned a few pages in the calendar and wrote Michael. I asked him what that meant, to which he said that it would be my new appointment to visit Wilson Barber Shop. I flipped through the calendar and found out that it will be in 8 weeks.
At the new school, a new classmate came to me and said. You've been to Wilson Barbershop. I was left embarrassed and asked him how he knew. He laughed and said that even a year ago he also went there to get a haircut and that's why he knows that it is the most popular haircut for boys from Mr. Wilson. There was another boy in the class who had a similar haircut to me, but he had to be cut a few days earlier, because he already had about 4 millimeters of stubble around his ears and the back of his head.
Even though I resisted further visits to the Wilson barber shop, I never convinced my father, various promises and pleas did not help me, and in the end I still went to the Wilson barber shop for another scalping. When there was a boy in the barbershop and his parents didn't ask for a different haircut, he got the same haircut as me. After returning from the Wilson barbershop, dad made another note in the calendar so that he wouldn't forget my next haircut.
After every visit to Wilson's barber shop, I was annoyed that Mr. Wilson was doing extremely short side and nape haircuts on all the boys. When the boy was without parents, he immediately cut his hair according to his own ideas. If the boy ordered a shorter haircut at home, the barber was happy to fulfill it. For adult men, he always asked how the customer wanted a haircut. It also wasn't fair that my hair was shorter than my father's.
If you liked my story, I will be happy if you write about it in the comments. Well thank you.

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