A Helping Hand by Armando94

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(back in the small town, sorry a little long, couldn't help myself. Lots of cameos, more to come)

Alan Kane kept flicking glances over at his teenage son over from him in the passenger seat. Young Al, as he’d always called him, just Al to the teenagers friends, kept his focus down on his phone, massive head phones wrapped around his head. It had been a quiet drive, in fact, a quiet few weeks. Or maybe, a quiet year or so, after wife and mother, Audrey, tragically passed away. Alan was worried about his son. He didn’t slip with grades, he didn’t suddenly quit all his sports and activities. But Young Al went beyond quiet, like he was a mute. Alan was grateful at least that his son had been able to cry and express emotion initially. But after that, this radio silence began. Alan eventually chose not to poke. That’s why, when he said they were moving, to be closer to Alan’s aging parents, he’d been nervous what Al’s reaction would be. Fortunately, but also unfortunately, the sixteen year old just shrugged his shoulders.

Dark out now, they pulled up to the house. Alan let out a sigh, hoping it would get his son’s attention. The teen stayed glued to his phone. When Alan opened his door, Al did the same, still quiet as they emptied their bags from the back row and trunk and brought them up to the dimly lit porch. The town they’d come to was a quiet and small one. Not that they moved terribly far, less than two hours away, and still the same state, it was obvious they were in a different world now.

Alan’s father was sat watching the TV with a beer in hand, his mother finishing setting the table. She smiled as they stepped into the house and took a turn giving each of them a hug and kiss, saying how happy she was to have them. Alan could feel how frail his mother had gotten, even in the last few months. Young Al had to help his grandpa out of the chair and slowly guide him to the table fifteen minutes later. After saying grace, Alan made small talk mostly with his mother while his son remained silent, but thankfully had the decency to not look at his phone.

After dinner, grandma showed each of them to their rooms. Alan joined his parents in the living room later on to watch the news, but Young Al stayed alone in his room. When Alan went to check on him an hour later, Al was horizontal on the bed, scrolling through his phone.

"Hanging in there?" the father asked.

"Sure," Young All mumbled.

Alan sighed, and then motioned for his son to sit up as he joined him on the bed. "Look, I know this isn’t what you want. Middle of high school and all. Leaving everything behind. I appreciate you not making a fuss about things." Silence lingered and all Al said was "Sure" again, clearly itching to get back on his phone. Alan sensed this, but wanted to have a conversation. "How about we go for a run in the morning, huh? Know it might be a little cold. But can show you around."

"I’ve been before, remember," Al mentioned.

Alan nodded, "We can do breakfast too, how about that?" he rubbed his son’s shoulder, shocked by the static from the hoodie, before giving his son a big kiss on the head, bedding his face into his son’s long dirty blonde locks. Al’s hair didn’t exceed to his shoulders or anything crazy. But it covered his ears, went just passed the neckline, and he had that floppy fringe all the kids foolishly did. Alan shouldn’t comment, though, his businessman’s look was definitely pushing it. Little floppy himself in certain areas, and peaking out in others. He hadn’t been the best about maintaining looks since his wife passed, and he wasn’t about to be forceful on his son. Finally, Alan let his son be for the night, hoping tomorrow would be better. Or at least, the start of something better.

***

Al felt bad, how his father was trying to make an effort with him. Meanwhile, he gave him the silent treatment. More than that. He knew he could be a better son, but things hadn’t been great not just since mom passed, but from before then. Al was devastated when his mother finally left this world after a short and harsh battle with breast cancer. This made everyone at school awkward around him. Not his teammates though, they were still annoying as hell. Al wouldn’t wear his headphones when he ran, but he wished he could just tune them all out with their idiotic conversations. And besides his teammates, his other friends were far and few between. Al was just hanging on at this point. So when dad said they had to move, he sort of shrugged it off. Did it suck? Sure. Would he deal with it? Sure.

Al was ready the next morning, bundled for the weather. His father smiled at him when he came into the living room, happy his son woke up. Al wanted to try to make his dad happy. After both of them stretched out, they headed out the door. Alan named all the different streets, where who and what used to live while he grew up here. This change in home also brought a change in job for Alan. He’d worked in food sales all his life, and they had a different sort of opening at the local grocery store with a role that was both marketing and sales, but also assistant managing. A Jack of all trades thing. Al tried to see this as a positive, that his dad would be around more, but he also knew it was to help his grandparents, mostly.

They’d gotten in a solid five miles, when Alan said, "Son I bet you could keep going," completely out of breath.

Al shrugged, "Sure, but its okay. Maybe tomorrow." They walked it off, passing by all the shops opening up for Saturday. They stopped at the diner, stretching before going inside. The place was already filling up, but father and son got a spot at the counter top. They both took off their hats, their hair complete messes. Several people took turns coming up to Alan during their meal. After the fifth person, Alan said, "We’ll see you at church I suppose," before they walked off. This caught Al’s attention. Al didn’t judge his parents for being religious, because they weren’t bible thumpers. He really didn’t like going to church. Was an altar boy for less than a year. And most times, he fell asleep because of training or a meet he had that weekend.

Alan caught his son’s motions, "I know, I know. Ain’t your favorite thing to do. Your grandparents will appreciate it though." Al forked through the last bits of his eggs and sausage, not looking up or saying a word. "When you join the track team on Monday, maybe that will get you out of a few weekends of attending. Or who knows, maybe you’ll make a friend tonight!"

At that, Al gave his father a look, one that his mother used to give her husband when he said something ridiculous, "Sure Dad, sure."

***

Alan was relieved Al didn’t put up a fight when the day got darker and they had to get grandma and grandpa in the car to go to Saturday night mass. It was crowded, which made Alan happy to see. And not just folks like his parents, but all ages, families, you name it. When they’d come to visit on the holidays or the odd weekend, Alan had become loosely familiar with the parish priest, Father Theo. Alan and Al helped the grandma and grandpa out of their seats once most the congregation left, besides the stragglers hanging out amongst each other or with the priest.

"Alan," Father Theo stopped his conversation to shake his hands. "Glad to see you here, travels went alright I take it?"

"Yes, thank you," Alan nodded, then placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, "You remember my son."

"Young Al," Father Theo nodded, Al stuck his hand out and they shook. "Although, I’m sure you prefer just Al."

"Yeah," Al mumbled.

Father Theo beamed, briefly turning back to the other parishioners he was speaking with, which looked like a trio of brothers, based off the looks. Alan figured so, their appearances were fairly similar, and they each had short haircuts. The youngest of the three’s slightly grown out, but clearly having recovered from some kind of a buzz cut. Alan figured he was probably around his Al’s age. The trio shuffled off, and then Father Theo turned back to the Kanes.

"I’m glad you are in town, Alan," the priest stated. "I’m looking forward to getting to know you better. And I know your parents are grateful for the company and helping hands."

"Well, they haven’t kicked us out yet, so successful first 24 hours."

Alan’s parents laughed at that, as did the priest. Then Father Theo said, "All set for starting the new job? I heard whispers, so I had to ask."

"Yep, reporting for duty on Monday as if I’ve always been there," Alan nodded.

"Well, my prayers to you with this new occupation, and to you too, Al, with starting your first day at a new school," Father Theo bowed. When he lifted his head up, he looked to have an "Ah-ha!" moment. "Actually…" The priest slipped a few feet away, returning with another parishioner. "Alan, this is Daniel McGuiness. Daniel, this is Alan Kane, new to the parish but not new to town. He’ll be starting work with you next week."

"Ah," said this Daniel, who stuck a hand out to Alan, "so you’re the man everyone’s been talking about."

"Hopefully only good things," Alan teased, Daniel laughed. Alan noticed Daniel’s family speaking with another, but only because to see behind Daniel, he had to get past his sharp haircut. Alan was impressed, yet also slightly scared by the severe short sides Daniel sported. Skin halfway up his skull, slowly transitioning to faint stubble and then short bristles, with expert scissor work styled on top. Alan even took notice of Father Theo’s hair, which was not freshly cut, but still a super short flattop. Alan sort of remembered that was his look. And those three brothers all had short haircuts, too. Alan felt a bit out of place, his slightly overgrown thatch made him stand out against the rest.

"I’m in the fish department," Daniel continued speaking. "Been there a little while now, but if you need anything, that’s where you’ll find me. Everyone’s great."

Alan audibly gulped, "Looking forward to it, and meeting the whole team." At that, Daniel shuffled back to his family and Alan said goodbye to Father Theo, saying they’d see him next weekend. Father Theo was quick to add that maybe, once Alan got settled, he might be interested in joining a few of the parish ministries. Alan was still distracted by Daniel’s haircut, and the thought of Father Theo coming fresh out of the barber’s chair, slightly smelling of talcum powder and barbecide. Alan said he’d think about it some more.

***

Al found his first day of the new school to be as expected: pretty easy, yet boring. Each class he entered, the teacher would introduce him to the room for a hot ten seconds, then moving swiftly along with the lessons the class had already been on. Most classes Al found himself stuck in the middle, everyone taking turns looking at him like he was an alien. Al ignored it. After his third class, one boy came up to him, commenting his sneakers. Al had thrown on an old pair of trainers that had seen better training days, but still looked fresh. This other kid, Ernie, turned out to be on the track team, but was a sprinter.

Ernie invited Al to sit with him and some others at lunch. Al was happy, even slightly smiled as he said, "Sure…thanks". Some of the other kids at the table were also on the track team. Al listened in on their conversations, picking at his lunch. He saw from across the lunchroom that kid from church on Saturday night. He was making his way out of the cafeteria, but then looked to be briefly stopped by a posy of others, and ones that obviously weren’t his friends. When the kid from church shrugged them off and turned out and away, Al saw the antagonistic group laughing.

"Al," Ernie broke his focus. "You there brother? I asked what’s your event on the track?"

"Sorry," Al shook his head. "Distance, 1600 or 3200, rarely the 800."

Ernie nodded his head, "Your times good?"

Al shrugged, "Sure."

At practice that afternoon, Coach Campbell introduced Al to everyone. For a small town, they still had a decent number of guys and gals for the track team. The winter season was winding down, but Coach Campbell said it would be good for Al to train and get to know his distance squad. There was about ten of them for guys, Al figured this made it tough during cross country season. They only had a long run today, which worked great so Al was able to get to know the guys. As far as being typical teenage boys, they fit that bill, but not on an extreme or obnoxious level. They teased each other lightly but tiptoed around other things. Al was up with the front pack, and they kept asking him if the pace was okay. After their run, they laid out on the infield to stretch. They watched as the sprinters and hurdlers did some drills.

"Woah!" Al heard himself say as he saw what he couldn’t believe was Ernie taking the lead out of lane five against his teammates in the 100 meter. Ernie sure had a Superman like complex, his thick-rimmed glasses from the school day put away, and here was this teen quicker than the Flash.

"That’s nothing for Ernie," one of the distance guys, Graeme, a grade older than Al said. "Business as usual for him. And this is only practice."

In the locker room later, everyone stripped out of their sweaty tops and into something dry. Al figured he’d have to remember that for tomorrow. That and picking up an extra stick of deodorant, maybe he’d get Dad to help with that when he picked him up soon. As Al waited for his dad, every other guy asked if he needed a lift, even some of the girls. When Alan showed up, Al gave his dad a brief rundown of school, but that practice had been good. He mentioned a few essentials he needed for both, so they stopped at the drug store/pharmacy in town. Alan had to pick up a few things too, as it was. No one was behind the cash register when they went to check out. They waited a few minutes before they heard someone from behind.

"I am so sorry about that, gentlemen," a tall figure came rushing through, swung himself behind the register. The tag said "Darrin" with "Assistant Manager" below it. "Sorry, they must still be on break, I’ll ring y’all up so you can get going with your night."

"No need to apologize, from one assistant manager to another" Alan said. Then Al realized he recognized this Darrin. He was who Father Theo was talking to after mass. The oldest of the three brothers, the youngest being the one Al spotted being bullied at lunch today.

"Is that so?" Darrin laughed as he punched things in on the machine. He couldn’t be all that much older than Al. Then Darrin and Alan bantered back and forth lightly, Alan saying how didn’t he see him and his brothers at mass on Saturday. Darrin confirmed this, and that yes those were his brothers. Alan mentioned Al had just started school here today, to which Darrin mentioned his youngest brother Paul was at the high school too. Paul, Al would have to remember that the next time he saw that kid. Unsure if he should go up to him.

As they drove home, Alan said, "He seemed like a relatively nice fellow."

"Sure," Al nodded. His father wasn’t wrong, just didn’t know why he brought it up.

"Super short haircut on him," Alan lightly laughed at himself. "Can you imagine yourself with a cut like that?" and then ruffled a free hand through Al’s mop.

"Sure," Al swatted him off, laughing back. Al didn’t know what his father was getting at, but it did leave him thinking all night how that buzzcut did look good on Darrin. He definitely had it freshly cut, you could tell, unlike Paul. Not that Al was getting any ideas, but who knows…new town, new school, maybe new him. His dad was never the forceful type, even with haircuts, but given that opportunity, would Al find himself saying "Sure" in the barber’s chair, caped up tight, at the mercy of a pair of clippers brandished before him in the mirror?...

***

The first few days at the new job were chaotic. Alan did find everyone to be extremely nice and willing to help out. But the management had gotten out of hand. He didn’t want to bring that hammer down on his superiors, not so soon on the job. That and, they were on the older side, too. Townies before even Alan was one. He didn’t want to mess with that, even if a lot of the practices could be better. Or more efficient.

As he walked the floors, gotten to know where everything was, he found comfort in Daniel McGuiness in the fish department. On Alan’s first day, their lunchtimes overlapped, Daniel asked if he could join Alan. They got to chatting, about how Alan had come back home to live, but Daniel was pretty vulnerable and open about his past and how he got to this job. The two men also had the tragic shared bond of losing someone to cancer. Yet this Daniel seemed to have turned a new leaf in life, Alan could sense. That and, well, Alan couldn’t help it. He enjoyed these lunches for Daniel’s great company, but also to check out his haircut. Alan would be lying if he said these thoughts didn’t stay with him when he went to bed each night.

By Thursday, Alan got some courage. He and Daniel overlapped for lunch again, Daniel went on about the men’s group he went to Wednesday nights, that Alan should consider coming to a meeting. Alan figured this must be what Father Theo was talking about. As the two walked over towards the fish department, and Daniel threw back on his gear, Alan stood from the outside like a customer. "Hey Daniel, by the way, that’s a sharp haircut you have on you, son."

"Thanks," Daniel bushed, rubbing the back of his noggin. The hair had grown in since the weekend, no longer a shaved nape. "Actually, my barber, well, he’s a friend, name is Nick. He’s in the Wednesday night group too. We started it. He’s got a great morale on him, and besides that, he’s pretty impressive at his day job as you can see."

"That’s for sure," Alan felt the back of his head, polar opposite of Daniel’s. Then he felt a buzz, a different kind, in his pocket. His phone was going off. "Hello?...yes, this is he…Oh, hello there, how may—oh…oh, I see," Alan sighed, shaking his head. "Alright, thank you, I’m sorry about that trouble…I’ll speak with him tonight then." Then hung up.

"Everything alright, Alan?" Daniel asked.

Alan shook his head, "My son was in a fight at school."

***

Well, Al didn’t see this coming. Here he was, in the principal’s office. Awaiting judgement. All because he decided to be a hero. Sat next to him was that kid Paul, Paul Caffrey as he now knew his full name. Al had been sitting at lunch with his new teammates when across the cafeteria he spotted Paul in the same situation as Monday, trying to get passed a few bullies. This time, they weren’t letting him off easy. Al saw the kid hang his head low, unresponsive to their taunts. Al excused himself from the group, marching over to where the fight was about to begin. One kid shoved at Paul, who shoved back but missed, getting another kid instead. When Al arrived on the scene, he grabbed the first antagonizer by his shirt and pinned him against the wall for all the school to see (and scream at).

Luckily, the bullies were punished as well, suspended for the next week. But Al and Paul weren’t getting out of jail so soon. Detention for the rest of the day and suspended until next Monday. The principal showed some sympathy, as it was obvious it wasn’t Paul’s fault, besides getting heated. The principal commended Al for standing up but kept pressuring and pushing for why when they were one on one. Al kept his responses minimal and brief. He didn’t know why. He’d seen this kid get picked on the other day, knew he was from church, sorta met the oldest brother, who seemed very kind. Maybe they had a hard life, Al could understand that. The principal excused him from the room to hang outside with Paul. After a long painful silence, Paul eeked out a "Thanks."

Seconds later, Al answered: "Sure," and he meant it. In detention they had to be silent. When school was over, and they had to remain a couple more hours, Coach Campbell stopped in and made a crack at Al, saying he didn’t realize he ran track and threw javelin. Then he asked Al to be more careful, and that he was lucky it wasn’t the start of spring. The afternoon detention proctor was lenient on the students chatting while getting work done. Al was surprised Paul remained quiet, even when he tried to chat him up. Once it struck 5, all the other kids ran out of the room. Al and Paul walked out of the school in silence, dad’s car already waiting. Al saw Paul go for Paul for his bike, but Al stopped him, "Hey we can give you a ride."

" ’s okay," Paul shrugged, trying to turn away.

"No, come on, man," Al encouraged. He saw something shift in Paul’s face. This wasn’t just Al and his father helping him out, Paul saw it as more than something. Al helped Paul situate himself in the back row with his bike. Al introduced Paul to his dad, although dad was well aware they were in the mess together. After dropping Paul off at his brother Scott’s job, Al said, "Look, I’m sorry dad. I don’t know what I was thinking."

Alan shook his head, not looking at his son, "I don’t know either," wiping away a stray tear before looking at him, "but I think you did something good, for Paul, even if you got in trouble."

The next morning, Al slept in. When the first school bell rang, he was getting ready for his own long run around town. Al was surprised to find this February Friday slightly warmer. Not spring, but still. He hit the pavement and cruised to a decent jog that got his heart rate up. He ducked in and around a bunch of neighborhoods to the point that he felt a little lost, gone farther than necessary. As he passed one house, the screen door screeched, and he turned to look. It was Paul. They made eye contact. Al waived, Paul did too. Then Al walked up to him saying, "Hey man."

"Hey," Paul slightly grinned. "Playing hooky?" They both laughed. "You run?"

"Yeah," Al nodded, "but no practice till next week for me. Do you play sports?"

"Uh, not really," Paul shrugged. "Mostly just bike around."

Al nodded. Silence lingered, and then bit the bullet. "Wanna hangout?"

Paul had to run his brother Scott his lunch he’d left behind, so Al told him he could bike to his grandparents. Once Al was showered off and such, Paul had been waiting in the living room, and then they both got on bikes. First, stopping at the diner to eat, where they got to know each other properly. They were the same grade. Al heard about Paul’s two older brothers. They had some interests in common, some similar sports teams, debating over others. They’d ended up sitting around for two hours; Then they hopped back on their bikes and Paul took Al on a tour of town in the sunshine. He pointed out some things, and they rode around one pocket park. Taking a moment to lie in the grass too and take in the sun.

Eventually making their way back down the main avenue later. Paul pointed out a few stores, coming across a barber shop. The barber sitting outside, taking in the sun too. He waived at them. "Didn’t know we hired criminals to police the streets now." the barber stood up from the bench. "I’m only kidding, but word travels fast around here." The barber stuck his hand out to Al, "Names Nick."

"I’m Al," he shook back, "ring leader of the dangerous duo." This made the barber laugh, and Al saw Paul grin a little.

"Well, hope you two enjoy your recent sentence, ain’t this kind of fun in the big leagues," Nick joked. "But it is a really nice day, perfect for you to get a fresh cut, Paul."

"I’m growing it out," Paul mumbled. "I don’t want it as short as my brothers."

"Aw, come on, it looked good on ya," the barber stated. "And we don’t have to go that short this time." The talk of this potential haircut made something stir in Al. Had Paul, his new friend, had short hair like Darrin? The haircut that kinda had kept Al up at night?

Paul and Nick went back and forth, haircut or not, until finally Al perked up, "I will if you do." Both Paul and Nick looked stunned at Al, he with his much longer hair like a typical teenager. "Don’t have to go super short, but I’m definitely due a haircut." Al ruffled from back to bangs. Paul was still stunned, but Nick flashed a smile. He led the two boys into his shop with open arms. Nick ordered Paul in his seat first.

"Like I said, we don’t have to go as short as your bros," Nick caped Paul up. "But the buzz is best, if I have any say."

"Well," Paul confessed, "it has been easy to manage. But…not super short."

"As you wish, sir," Nick finished securing the neck wrap around his client. The barber played around with his station, attaching the #7 guard to the clipper. "We’ll start with this, and I think it will be the perfect length. But maybe then we can fade it down…not all to skin! But short on the sides like before, taper around the back and sides, but still longer on top. Sound good?"

"Uh I guess," Paul shrugged in the cape. It made no difference, Nick flicked the clippers on to life and started right in the middle of Paul’s hairline, pulling back little wisps of hair. Not a whole ton was coming out, but he was making a clean job of it from what Al inspected in the waiting area. The mirror revealed a more even and uniform top for Paul than the tennis ball fuzz he’d had. Al listened in as Nick chatted Paul up, something about his brother Scott’s band playing at a bar this Saturday evening. But Al was in and out of their conversation, he was totally engaged with his friend’s haircut. The barber used the clippers all around the back and sides before switching the guard to something shorter, flicking the clippers up and outwards as he got close to the crown and towards the top. Al was in a trance by the time Nick made fine scissor work to even things out, and then tapered Paul’s neckline.

Once the cut was complete, and Paul was done and dusted off, Nick said, "Not bad right?" feeling the top slightly of his client, "Little bit longer now, but still manageable."

"Yeah," Paul softly smiled. "Thanks Nick," and then walked over to Al. "Whatcha think?"

Al’s mouth felt bone dry at the sight before him, he didn’t know what to say except too many words, "Sure, its cool. Looks good man. Nice. Short."

"Alright," Paul tried not to laugh, "don’t need too many compliments. Are…do you think you’ll get a cut, too?"

Oh hell yeah, Paul’s mind resounded like a stadium chant. Then Nick called over, "Get your butt over here, young man. First cut is on me for the new kid in town, even if he’s suspended." Al laughed as he walked over to his doom. His legs shaking once he was plopped in the plush leather cushion. Goosebumps over his arms as Nick caped him up and added the tissue wrap. Nick took a comb and brushed Al’s hair forward, "What did we have in mind today?"

Al gulped, then blurted, "Same as him," nodding his head back towards Paul who looked more than surprised threw the mirror, jaw dropping to the floor. Al swore he heard Nick whisper "Hoped you’d say that." The next ten seconds were an absolute blur as Nick quickly switched out the guards on the clipper back to the #7 and made no pretense on waiting. Placing it right on top of Al’s forehead, a second or two of nothing, before firing them to life, and pulling back like he was mowing the lawn. Al felt the clippers tug through his hair, questioning why he was doing this. After the first swipe, some fair hair fell to the cape, but it was the second swipe across the top that revealed the real damage to Al. It wasn’t a super short buzzcut like Darrin’s, but it was much shorter than the floppy look Al had been rocking for far too long. Mounds and mounds of his hair cascaded down at the mercy of the clipper. Some landing at his shoulder, others slipping down the cape and even onto the floor. Nick didn’t waste time, but he was delicate and patient. Peeling away strip by strip of Al’s head until all that was left was a longer buzz on top. Al gulped again once a majority of the hair had been cleared away. Nick went over the top again, to make sure not a single strand was forgotten. It was all taking shape, and Al felt better about it. Sure, it was different, but he could finally see his forehead and even his eyes. They were a sky blue like his mom’s, and now they would be on full display with this shorter crop.

When Nick moved onto the sides with the #2 guard, Al felt all the difference as his hair fell yet again at the mercy of the barber. At this point, Nick kindly chatted him up, asking if he did anything at school when he wasn’t suspended. They joked but Al mentioned his running. All the while, Nick shaved sides to back to a quarter of an inch. Al felt hypnotized when Nick eventually took the scissors and comb and evened things out, able to still carry on the conversation too. The the tickle of tapering his neckline was an exhilarating feeling Al hadn’t anticipated, or he was so dreamy right now that any of these sensations would make him excited with glee. Finally, the cut was complete, and Nick dusted him off, the talcum powder potent across his face Al wanted to bottle the scent up. Then the barber released the cape and asked, "So? You like?"

Al stood up, feeling the back of his head, wow! But then he said, "Sure," and they all laughed. Al walked over to Paul who was still surprised by his decision. Al held his hand out to him, to get him to stand up, "Come on, let’s go scare my dad," and the two teens raced out of the shop, thanking Nick, and then hit it on their bikes.

***

Alan was just about to handle his end of the day tasks, ending a conversation with Daniel, when all of a sudden he heard a "Hey dad!" from behind. Al turned around and was stunned who stood before him was…his son! His Young Al.

"Al!!!" Alan nearly dropped his clipboard. "Wh-what happened?"

"I got a haircut," Al rubbed his sides and top. "Well, we both got haircuts," he pointed his thumb to Paul behind him.

"Well…" Alan was shocked to say the least. "Well, did you pay the barber? Tip him well?"

"First cut was on the house he said," Al smiled but then dropped his face, "but…I forgot to tip."

Alan shook his head, but then Daniel said behind him, "Oh, I’m sure Nick doesn’t mind, besides, gives you a chance to introduce yourself too, Alan."

Alan felt himself go beat red, thrown under the bus by Daniel! As he felt that, he couldn’t help but admire his son’s new look and just how happy he seemed. And his eyes stood out, his eyes that reminded him of Audrey’s. "Well, it does look good, on both of you," Alan finally admitted. "Just remember for next time, okay son?"

"I will I will," Al declared, and then he and his new friend tore it out of the place, nearly knocking over a customer as they turned on their heel.

"Woah, woah, speedy Gonzalez. Two of them," Father Theo joked as he approached the fish counter. "Have my salmon ready, Daniel?"

"Like all Fridays," he passed over what had been chilling off to the side.

"Thank you son," the priest nodded. "Well, if I wasn’t mistaken, Alan, was that your son with the youngest Caffrey boy?"

"It was," Alan shook his head, still in disbelief. "Surprised me, if you couldn’t tell."

"Well," Father Theo said, "the bigger surprise is seeing Paul seem a bit more upbeat. Young Al is truly some kid to do that. You should be proud."

"Thank you Father Theo," Alan nodded, and he was proud. Alan left the two men alone, claiming he had to go do work. But really he wanted to avoid their prying, since Daniel already started it, and knew Father Theo might chime in. Yes, Alan was afraid they’d encourage him to visit the town barber. And boy did he want to, but boy was he nervous. He stressed about this the rest of his shift, staying a little behind to finish up, see if there was anything else. Until one of the senior managers told him to take it easy, its his first week. So Alan packed up and left for the night. On his drive out of the market, he made a small deal with himself. He would drive by the barber shop, this Nick possibly couldn’t still be open. If he was, he’d go in, introduce himself, MAYBE get a trim. If not, he’d do so tomorrow morning at a busy time so to avoid even a trim. As he crawled closer, the lights were on, and the barber was at work with a client, no one else waiting. Alan sighed, pulling into a free spot and heading inside.

The bell chimed, announcing his entrance, and both barber and client turned to face Alan. The barber smiled, saying, "Mind if you flip the sign on the door? You’ll be my last tonight."

"Oh, I, uh," Alan shook his head. "I’m Alan Kane, my son Al came earlier, but didn’t have money."

"Ahh, Al, nice kid," Nick nodded. "But I told him the cut was on the house, first time."

"Well, we still need to tip you," Alan pleaded.

Nick grinned, "You can tip me, but only if you get a cut too. Also on the house. I’m almost done with him, won’t be long."

And it wasn’t long, or at least the dreading Alan felt as he waited made it go by fast that the next thing he knew, it was just him and the barber. He stuck out his hand, "The name is Nick, by the way," they shook, "come have a seat, stay a while." Alan felt himself shiver as the barber draped the cape across him, he had to do everything in his power to make his mouth not chatter like he was out in the cold or something. "So new to town I understand?" the barber asked.

"Y-yes, but I grew up here," Alan mentioned.

"Oh, very nice," Nick nodded, combing through Alan’s hair. Then the barber slightly shouted, "So, what are we thinking today, sir?"

"Oh…not too much," Alan felt a hand through his sides, "I’m overdue but…"

"But…" he swore Nick winked at him. Then the barber started to sift his fingers through Alan’s hair. No other sounds in the shop. Alan felt his throat closing up at this sensation. Nick continued to do this as he said, "Your son went for a big change today…thought maybe you might consider the same." Nick’s eyes were intent on Alan’s in the mirror, like a lion who has found its prey, and the weaker animal is helpless from moving, or even staying put. Its already game over. The lion wants its prize. Nick practically moaned, "Such nice hair, but definitely needs a cut. You’ve gotten to know my buddy Daniel, haven’t you?" Alan hardly nodded his head. "He used to have longer hair,longer than you, now look at him." Nick pulled Alan’s sides back, pulling at the skin from the eyes. "Maybe not so tight, but I can help you out, if you’ll let me."

Alan was helpless and hopeless. He let himself into the lion’s den, no choice but to dance. He watched as Nick sorted through his station, picking up a comb and spray bottle. He situated himself back behind Alan and began to dose his head. Nick sectioned pieces off, pulling the scissors from his pocket, lifting a huge section with the comb, and then SNIP! SNIP! Wet clumps plopped themselves onto the cape. Alan could feel the bounce and vibration through it. No turning back now, not as Nick lifted another section and lift-snip-repeat. Removing the bulk from the sides and back, Alan knew this was just the beginning. He still had a whole lot of hair. Nick placed the tools down for a moment, grabbing a pair of clippers and firing them to life at his right sideburn. The noise resounded all over the room and it made Alan want to pass out, especially once he saw even more clumps of his hair become lifeless, falling onto the cape, slipping to the floor. Nick worked over the one section again and again until moving over towards the back. Alan could see just how short it was, not skin, but probably as short as Al’s! He tried not to gulp, but he couldn’t help himself, and he knew Nick was holding back a laugh. More so when he moved to the back of Alan’s head. As the clipper passed through the occipital bone, Alan couldn’t help himself but gasp out loud. The motion and rotation across his head, tearing right through. He hadn’t had clipper work like this in years! Here he sat, at the mercy of a strange new barber. Nick didn’t even make conversation, he was clearly letting Alan take it all in.

Once the sides had been clippered back, sideburns taken to nearly the top of his ears, arches carved around them, Nick picked up the scissors and comb again, combing his bands down. Boy they were long! For a moment more, before the barber chopped halfway up his forehead, the three CRUNCH! noises and bang, he could see clearly now. Then "trimming" the rest of the top to a short length that Alan felt would have been better off using the clippers at this point. He feared Nick was going to think his hair out next, but luckily those scissors were never brandished. His hair was going to be short enough as is! And yet, maybe he needed this cut, with his new life. Perhaps that was why Young Al took the plunge. Maybe this look wouldn’t be so bad…

The barber finished up with some product through his hair, a small quiff at the front that Alan feared would look juvenile, but was surprised how professional it made him look, like the assistant manager he should be in his new life, and a supportive father. Nick ran the clippers around his edges one last time, cleaning it all up, then making sure not a single hair was out of place, before dusting Alan off. Nick took a handheld mirror and showed his new client the back. "Short enough?" The fact he asked Alan that made them both laugh out loud, like they’d been friends awhile.

"Well," Alan felt his hand up the back. Wow! Short! But…nice? "Not the cut I thought I was getting today, let alone a cut at all…but thank you, Nick, I…I think I needed that extra push, the help to get this."

"A helping hand," Nick waived his free hand from the mirror, then placed it down, releasing the cape and helping Alan out of the seat, clapping him into an embrace. "Think it might be good you are in town, Alan. You’ve already made an impression on Daniel, and seems like your son, with his criminal ways, might be a help for his cohorts, too."

"He’s a good kid," Alan nodded, "can’t say it was all me." Then he dipped into his pocket, shoving some cash at Nick, "You said no to paying, but yes to the tip if I let you cut me. Well, I don’t know if I let you, but you definitely did."

"Come on, you knew you wanted one," Nick winked. "Maybe a little shorter next time." Both of them laughed again, saying maybe see each other around. When Alan got home later, Al was surprised to see his new look. Grandpa made a comment, how it didn’t take them both that long to fit in into town. Alan took that as a compliment. He and his son hadn’t been here long. And now, it felt like there was a whole lot Alan wanted to contribute, to give back to his home community. Help the store, see his son flourish, maybe join those ministries, the list was endless. For now, Alan felt like this was just the beginning.

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