Summerly by M. S.

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She did not introduce herself. His handy in his pockets Toby took seat in the chair she offered him. Once he had been seated, she ran her fingers through his hair. He noticed her violet nails. "Summerly?", she asked dryly and the looked up confused.
It was summer indeed and the street outside was almost glowing. He blew the fringes she had just put out of place out of his eyes and asked:" I beg your pardon?" "May it be summerly?", she asked again looking into his eyes. Toby noticed that the gentlemen next to him was listening, so he nodded, and the men was looking away. She nodded too and went away to get the items she needed.
He sat alone and felt confused. "What does summerly mean?", he asked himself. Originally he came to get his usual trim. A bad feeling started aching in his stomach. Nervously he sat in his chair.
Suddenly the hair artist stood behind him. "Drink, it´s hot outside.", she said and put a glass of cold water in front of him. He drank it up in one sip. Then she tightly put the cape around him. Water was sprayed on his hair, which was straw-colored and now turned dark and wet. She combed his head. The comb ran across his skull in an almost painful way. Toby´s hair was separated into sections. The hair on top was held by a slide. He was ordered to look down. Her strong fingers took strains from the back of his head, and he listened to the scissors snapping.
It was summer indeed he thought to himself to calm down. Looking at the floor he noticed stains of long hair. "Summerly", he repeated in his mind like a mantra. The young man panicked when he suddenly felt cold at the back of his head. "Please hold still.", she said politely when he was trying to look up. Now the sides of his head were being cut. He noticed again tufts of his hair on the floor.
"Do you like the length?", he heard her ask. Toby looked up the mirror and quickly put one hand on the short side. "Summerly", he muttered upset. His hair was almost stubbly. "Is that what you meant by summerly?", he asked concerned.
Without hesitation she grabbed a haircutting machine and put a clipper onto it. "Please look down again.", she said having clearly confused his surprise with complaint. He looked at the short hair purling on the ground while his head was pushed forwards. Slowly and very heavily the machine pushed against his head.
His heart beat increased. He thought of the gentleman next to him that got a haircut that was longer than his. He felt that the shearing was watched by the other customer.
The hair was evenly cut by the machine at the sides and back. "Is that summerly enough?", she asked and let go of his head. He carefully looked up at the parts cut by the buzzer. His skin shimmered through. He turned to stone and blinked simply not understanding what happened.
Her hands ran across the stubby areas above his ears. She opened the slide on top and his long hair fell onto the shorn sides and back. Still having taken his previous comment as rude, she told Toby that that would not be a summerly look at all. Having said these words, she took the fringes in front and halved them quickly. The same was done to the rest of Toby´s top hair.
The boy had troubles keeping calm. The men next to him, who was just finished getting his cut, gave him a friendly look. Toby´s hair was now shorter that this man´s one, although the young man´s hair was longer in the beginning.
She had finished the top when she caught his painful look. "You desperately want it summerly, don´t you?", she said softly, and his eyes turned big when she put the machine on his forehead with another clipper on and let it glide to the back. It was now twice as long as the stubbly back and sides.
"That will do!" burst out of him, who was heavily breathing. She nodded and put the clipper of the machine to give him a clean contour line. Eventually he got fond of the look. It looked brutal. The terror he felt was gone. Toby felt relieved. "Yes. This is a real summerly haircut.", he said proudly.
"I am glad, you finally like it.", the girl replied. He particularly liked the edge between the top and the sides, which he also told her.
"A real summerly buzz though would be one length all over.", she spoke innocently, "If you want to go for it." He did not quite understand what she was going with that but when she added:" And when it’s a real summer cut, we are talking about at least six millimeters." â€" he just said: "Let´s go for three."
As if she had expected his answer, she put the fitting clipper on the machine and gave him the all over stubble she was talking about with lots of tiny hair coming off again. Taking her time, she worked precisely and silently. He appreciated the prisoner´s look and thought of how long it would take to grow his hair the length it had when he entered the salon.
In every window that reflected his image he looked when he had left the shop. It surprised him every time. Proud and brave and shaved he walked home.

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