Dishonor by Lavro

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Ludovico stared at his reflection from the barber chair. The red, white, and blue striped cape was tight around his neck. It was the same chair he sat in every two weeks since he was a kid, although he was about to turn twenty-four. Always the same barber too, Sal, who cut with flawless precision. Sal couldn’t have been more than a decade older than Ludo, always showing his clients a dashing smile through his face scruff. His clothes were tight enough to accent his muscular body. Sal always smelled good, was keen on the neighborhood dramas, and kept all the fellas looking fresh. He was the intermediary. A neutral party. He rarely took sides. His questions always started out the same: "How’s your nonna? And your pops?" As the haircut moved along, his questions would get more specific.

"What happened between you and Marco?" Sal asked as he ran a straight razor over Ludo’s lathered neckline. "I heard you threw hands again?"

"He’s got a big mouth," Ludo answered, making a fist under the cape, scabbed knuckles rubbing against the nylon.

"What did he say to you?"

"I dunno," Ludo pursed his lips. "Something about your mother."

Sal let out a loud laugh at that, shaking his head. "That’s right, ain’t nobody talking about my mother like that," Sal feigned. "You gotta be careful out there, Ludo. I know you’re an ass kicker, but pick your battles, you know? These fellas don’t role like they used to. You might get shot or stabbed."

Ludo shrugged, knocking loose hairs from his shoulder to his lap. As always, the haircut was precise. He was dangerously handsome. Everything that the grandson of an Italian migrant in New York City hoped for. His lips were full, desirable. He only showed his huge bright smile on special occasions. His eyes threatened, the weight of his brow pressed into a scowl that warned away any potential dangers. You had to be tough around those parts. He was a skinny guy though, with skinny muscles, but a ferocious right-hook. For some reason, he couldn’t stay out of trouble, and liked to fight. He lived for it. Ludovico liked to be talked about. He liked to show the guys who was boss, just like his pops did.

"All done, champ," Sal said, releasing Ludo from the tight cape and shaking the cut hairs to the floor. "How’s that look for ya?"

Ludo’s hair was nearly black, parted in the middle. He was glad to finally see the last of his previously bleached hair cut off this time. All the fellas called him Ludovica for it. He didn’t know what he was thinking when he colored it. Still, the fringe was kept longer, falling neatly to his cheek bones. The sides were faded low, all the way to skin. The style wore like a spunky blend between an undercut and curtains, with a razor-sharp fade that highlighted his pierced ears and his chiseled, smooth face. He liked a semi-wet look, using product with high shine. His tatted arms were exposed through his tank top, and he wore a gold cornicello necklace, handed down from his grandfather.

"Perfect, as always." Ludo felt power in his clean look.

"Don’t go out there being all tough now that I got you sharp. Did you really spit in Marco’s face after you knocked him out?"

"Sal, come on. Forget about it, would you?"

"Things like that put a target on your back is all." Sal looked at him gravely in the mirror.

"The mook is lucky that’s all I did," Ludo rose from the barber chair. "Things are different these days, Sal. If someone runs their mouth to me, it isn’t enough anymore to just give them the business. You have to dishonor them. Make them think twice before trying it again."

"Pick your battles, kid. My business runs on repeat customers, you get it?" Sal laughed again and put a gentle hand on Ludo’s shoulder.

Ludo paid his twenty dollars, threw on his leather jacket, and strutted out the door. He felt the afternoon sun and a mild spring breeze tickling the freshly shaved areas around his ears and neck. As he usually did after a fresh cut, he cruised a couple blocks to Valentino’s for some gabagool. It was his day off. He wanted to spend it enjoying the small things, walking his neighborhood, and showing his face. After, he’d go home and help nonna with anything she needed until the sun went down. Then he’d fill up on her good food and hit the town again with the troublemakers.

Before long, the evening turned late, and Ludo was surrounded by his buddies and the girls in one of their typical crowded bars, getting rowdy. He had eyes for Vinnie, a handsome fella with a short buzzcut. Vinnie had eyes for him too, but they were really careful about that. Especially after several drinks. After all, Ludo was seeing Valerie, and nonna liked her a lot. He didn’t really want to settle with her, but he would if he had to. He didn’t like to think about it too much.

"You seein’ this guy, Ludo?" Gianni interrupted his thoughts, pointing across the bar with his thumb. "He keeps giving Valerie a look. Better keep an eye on him."

Gianni, always the instigator, was pointing to a tall guy in a black denim vest. He was laughing at some joke told by one of his friends, unaware that he was being scoped out. He had a spiked up mohawk that made him look tough, only a couple inches high, but not threatening. The sides of it were freshly shaved smooth. He was thin too, like Ludo, who was sizing him up. Ludo decided that he probably had a stronger build, but Ludo knew how to handle business if he needed to. He had taken down big big guys before. As he was observing him, he caught him glance at Valerie. Gianni started to tap Ludo’s arm, suggesting he do something.

"Chill out, he didn’t do nothing yet," Ludo said, rolling his eyes. "I just did Marco in and need to keep a low profile." Ludo ran his hand through his neatly styled middle part, thinking about Sal’s warning. The product made it only a little stiff, and it always fell perfectly back into place.

He noticed Vinnie slapping the bar for another round. Ludo and Gianni strolled over to join him. Within a couple of minutes, they were tilting back more bottles of beer. Valerie and the girls had walked off to the pool table, and Gianni kept pestering Ludo about Marco.

"I’d have punched him again," Gianni made a fake punching motion. "No! I’d have taken his wallet! He had no business saying what he said to you."

"I handled it, alright?" Ludo said dismissively.

"Look, look!" Gianni said in a loud whisper. "Mohawk guy is moving in on Valarie."

"Damn it, not tonight," Ludo cursed under his breath as he quickly walked towards Valerie and the guy with the mohawk. Valerie did look uncomfortable. Ludo wrapped his arm around her as he arrived. "This guy bothering you, babe?"

"Not yet," she teased, trying to dispel any tension.

"Who are you?" Mohawk guy asked with a bitter tone. He corrected his posture.

"Look buddy, I ain’t looking for any trouble. Not tonight. Come back tomorrow though and I might have something for you." Ludo waved his hand as if to excuse him from his presence.

"I’m not looking for trouble either, but if you’re threatening me-"

"Trust me, Mohawk, not a threat. Do you know where you are? This is my neighborhood, you get me?"

"Ludo, please-" Valerie tried to step in, but Ludo took a step towards the man.

"Do me a favor, buddy, and get outta here ok?" Ludo found that he had to look up slightly to meet him in the eye.

"Ludo?" Mohawk smirked. "I heard of you. You have some fast hands. That’s what they say anyway."

"You looking to find out?"

Ludo and Mohawk locked eyes, staring at each other for a long, tense moment. Ludo felt the adrenaline building up inside of him, the thrill of a fight mixed with arrogance and slow anger. Like a drug, his hesitation waned, and he needed the fix. He instantly wanted Mohawk to challenge him, discarding his reservations.

"Let’s step outside," his opponent finally said to his delight.

Across the bar, Gianni and Vinnie saw the men quickly make towards the back door. They followed with the group of guys who Mohawk was with. A moment later, the alleyway was alive with excitement, shouting, and the air of combat. Ludo and Mohawk squared up, raising their clutched fists to eye level. Ludo had done this a dozen times before behind this bar alone, not to mention the countless other times he knocked someone’s lights out. This was sport for him.

"Stop it you idiots!" Valerie yelled but was drowned out by the ruckus.

"I’ll give you one more chance to walk away," Ludo said, his fringe framing his severe glance. Mohawk shook his head and quickly took his first swing.

Ludo ducked back but felt the force of the punch through the air. Mohawk had a long reach. Ludo feigned a few punches in retaliation, testing his reaction time. Mohawk was sharp. Too sharp for someone who had been drinking. Another fist came Ludo’s way, and he had to use his hand to block it. He felt the force of it. The power.

Mohawk kept advancing, throwing right hooks. Cheers and boos from the crowd came as strikes were ducked and dodged. Ludo began to feel the pressure. He slapped away one of Mohawk’s hands, swinging strongly with his left hand, his weaker hand, catching Mohawk on the chin, putting him off his feet and onto his ass. The second he hit the ground, Ludo moved in, hoping to catch him with his right hand, his nearly lethal punch. Mohawk scurried back though, avoiding the hit, which Ludo swung with enough force to stagger himself. Mohawk jumped to his feet, raising his defenses again. He spit out the blood pooling in his mouth.

"Nice hit," Mohawk taunted. "Come a little closer. I’m taking your girl home after I put you down."

The crowd reacted to the insult with a rally of shouts that enraged Ludo. He moved in again, trying to focus through the alcohol in his veins, throwing another punch towards Mohawk. The tall man leaned back, avoiding the strike, and watched Ludo’s footing stumble. Mohawk launched another punch, hitting Ludo on the ear, sending him back, but he stood firm. He felt a small rush of dizziness. Mohawk unclenched his fist only to taunt Ludo more, beckoning him to come at him again. Ludo took the bait, sliding in with unsure feet, hoping to connect his devastating right hand. The taller, more sober Mohawk side stepped with grace, and connected his powerful fist with Ludo’s face.

Ludovico’s body shook with the velocity of his forward movement and the force of the fist against his face. He collapsed in the alley, losing consciousness. The crowd went silent, except for Valerie, who let out a shout. Mohawk stood over him, his fists still clenched as if Ludo might spring up and attack again, but he didn’t move.

"This is the fearsome Ludo?" he said to the crowd. "This little pretty boy?"

With Ludo on his back, knocked out, Mohawk knelt down over him. His crew had moved in closer around him as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a switchblade knife. Ludo’s friends tried to move forward as Mohawk flicked out the blade, but his crew raised their fists, and warned them off. Mohawk shook the blade at them as if it were a wiggling finger telling them "no."

He roughly grabbed the unconscious Ludo by his long fringe, lifting his head from the dirty alleyway pavement. With his switchblade, Mohawk carefully placed the knife’s edge against his hairline and quickly severed the forelocks. Ludo’s head fell back, the severed fringe still in Mohawks fingers. He flicked them onto Ludo’s face, who began to show signs of coming to. Mohawk grabbed more of his hair, slicing through it with a series of quick chops, one chunk then the next. Mohawk made sure to cut as close to the scalp as possible. Ludo’s friends could only watch in sadness.

Mohawk stood up with more of Ludo’s cut locks between his fingers. He raised his hand to the crowed, like a trophy. Ludo began to move below him, letting out a cough and bringing his hand to his swelling cheek. He didn’t notice his severed hair being dropped on him, or Mohawk stepping off of him.

"You guys would be wise to keep him on a leash," Mohawk said to Ludo’s gang. "Someone worse than me might come along. He’s not going to forget this anytime soon." Mohawk gazed triumphantly at Ludo, who looked ridiculous with the large, nearly bald patches along his hairline and on top of his head. "Let’s go boys. Make sure he gets our tab."

Nobody stopped them as they walked out of the alley and into the night.

***

Sal arrived at his barbershop the next morning to find Ludovico waiting for him outside, posted up against the window ledge. He was in the same clothes he wore the day before, except now he had a ballcap and sunglasses on. Still, Sal noticed a bit of bruising on his cheek.

"What did I tell you, Ludo?" was the first thing he said, fumbling for his keys. "What happened?"

"Some punk did me in pretty good. I dunno, I had too much to drink or something." He was trying to act like it was no big deal, but even admitting what happened felt like damage to his pride.

"So, what are you doing here?" Sal unlocked and opened his barbershop door, walking in with Ludo, and flicking on a series of light switches, illuminating the barbershop.

Ludo took off his sunglasses, revealing his bruised cheek. He managed to get the swelling down some, but it still looked like it hurt. Then, he took off his hat with a frown, his hand falling hard to his side and his posture slumping. Sal’s eyes went wide, as if he were witnessing a massacre.

"You look bad, kid. Real bad. I don’t usually open for another twenty minutes, but you better sit down fast." Sal’s hand turned the barber chair, and Ludo reluctantly took his seat. "Didn’t I tell you to lighten up? To stop being such a tough guy?"

"Sal, give me a break please. He was messing with my girl." Sal spun him to face the mirror. Ludo couldn’t look at himself.

"Ehh, so what?" He grabbed the usual cape and wrapped it around him, fastening it tighter than normal, as if he were angry with Ludo. Sal began to finger through Ludo’s hair, seeing what he needed to do. "How the hell did this happen? You’re lucky he didn’t take your scalp off."

"I don’t remember, ok? I was… you know, he hit me real good. Can you save it?"

"I don’t have a lot of options here. What do you want me to do?"

"Uhh," Ludo finally met his own reflection, allowing his hand to touch where his long fringe had once been, wincing. "I never had it short like this before."

"We’re just going to have to go a bit extreme, I’d say. Just close your eyes. It’ll be over before you know it."

Without knowing how to respond, Ludo listened, closing his eyes tight. Sal surveyed his tools, looking back and forth between them and Ludo’s unfortunate head. It was cut almost to the skin in a couple of places, white scalp shoeing through in small patches. Despite the physical pain, Sal knew this was a lesson that Ludo needed. He decided not to waste time trying to make it look fancy. He grabbed his favorite trimmer, the kind made in a T shape that he used to make sharp outlines and crips fades. The kind that carved through hair and left nothing behind.

Ludo kept his eyes closed, but heard Sal pick up his tool and step behind him. He recognized the sound of the trimmer as higher pitched than the normal clippers. Still, he didn’t flinch when he felt the cold blade make contact with his hairline, right on the spot where Mohawk’s switchblade had taken it the shortest. Sal slowly pushed the clipper back across the top of his head until it met the longer area, gliding through it undisturbed. Once the blade met the crown and released a mass of Ludo’s long black hair onto the cape, he finally opened his eyes.

"Bald." Ludo was in disbelief. "Oh hell."

Sal held back his smirk when he felt Ludo’s body tense, even as he clippered down another row of hair, then another, leaving nothing but invisible stubble. Ludo’s throat went dry as more hair fell to his shoulder and his lap. Sal quickly moved to the right side of his head, making the contrasting dark hair disappear. Once Sal had taken down the left side as well, Ludo’s bruised face was all the more evident against the paleness of his exposed scalp and his hairless face. Ludo winced again when Sal began to take the rest of the hair off of his crown, as the trimmer ran over a small goose egg on the back of his head. He was surprised by the bulk of hair that fell, and the feeling of air on his head.

"You have a nice head shape," Sal reassured him, "if that helps."

"I can’t believe he did me like this," Ludo sort of whispered it in disbelief, looking at his nearly hairless head and swollen cheek. "I look like a creep."

"You’ll have to get used to it. It grows back, but not as fast as you think." Sal continued to run his trimmer over every millimeter of Ludo’s head. "You’ll have to show your face out there again too. Don’t you dare hide this, capisce? Wear your defeat with pride."

"It’s more than defeat," Ludo said with frustration, peering angrily at his new reflection. "It’s dishonor."

"Then think twice next time. Easiest cut I’ll do this week."
Sal turned off his trimmer and grabbed a brush to sweep off the loose hairs sticking to Ludo’s head like Velcro. He powered the trimmer back on and began to clipper down the hairline in all directions, making sure every piece was cut to the skin. He brushed Ludo’s head off again and took off the cape. The cut was done. Ludo has lost all of his hair.

"This is a disaster," Ludo admitted to Sal as he made to pick up his hat, but Sal grabbed it before he reached it.

"Sorry kid, you don’t get to cover this up. Own it. Learn from it. Don’t hide it."

Ludo looked at himself in the mirror again, letting his hand touch his stubbled head. His fingers recoiled as if his head were too hot to touch. He realized that he would have looked like a tough S.O.B., if it weren’t that he had been knocked out and humiliated. He reached into his pocket to take out some cash for Sal, but he refused payment and sent him on his way. He told him to come back in two weeks to freshen the sides, and he’d give him his hat back then.

With uncertain resolve and shame, Ludo went back to the same bar that very night, earlier than he had the evening before. He wanted to scope out the scene. He felt his heart quicken when he saw Mohawk sitting at the bar with one of his friends. Ludo confidently walked up and took a seat next to him, casually calling for the bartender to bring him a beer. Mohawk’s eyes went wide when he looked at him. Ludo countered by bringing out his dashing smile, the one he saved for special occasions.

"Put his beer on my tab," Mohawk said, smiling back at Ludo. "Poor guy needs one."

Ludo felt his hand involuntarily rub his head stubble, this time, with less reluctance.

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