Scissors - Part 2

“No they didn't.” He let himself take another glance at her. Her face had its customary intensity, which made her beautiful no matter what her thoughts were. Harold lightly brushed the hair away form the back of the boy's neck. “It's too complicated to be a joke. Let's get a look at you, young mand. “He swiveled the chair around so that he was face to face with Robbie. “He looks very good. Like a proud little boy.” He touched the fingers of his right hand to hes own lips, and then lightly placed the fingers on the side of the boy's cheek. A shiver ran down his back.

“I saw that,” she said.

“What?”

“Don't think I didin't see it.”

Harold lowered the chair, pulled the cloth away from around the boy, and flicked out the hairs onto the floor. The boy jumped down and went to the window.

“Up there,” the boy said. At that moment one of Harold's regular customers, a teacher in the high school named Saul Bernstein, walked into the shop, ringing the bell over the door.

“Hey, Harold,” he said. “See the balloon? “ He pointed outside, toward the sky. Down at the other end of the main street a hot air balloon with an enermous red tulip painted on its side was floating in a northerly direction just above treetop level toward Harold's barbershop. “Well, hello,” he siad to the boy.

The boy turned to loot at Saul. “Hi,” he said. Meanwhile, the boy's mother was reaching into her purse for money. From her pocketbook she drew out a ten dollar bill and handed it to Harold.

“You can't give me money, Louise,” he said quietly, handing it back to her. “You just can't.” Saul watched the two of them for a moment, then walked to the back of the barbershop and began to search through the old copies of Argosy and Sports Illustrated.

By now, both the boy and his mother had their spring coats on. Louise touched Harold once on the arm, then turned toward the window. “It's dropping something,” she said. “Little sheets of paper.”

“Those are the coupons,” Harold said, rubbing his hand across his eyes. “Like I told you. the whole thing's a promotion for Five Oaks business. We're trying” He seemed to lose his thought for a moment. “We're trying to keep the businesses prosperous.” He laughed, a faint and unhappy sound deep in his throat. “Two dollars off a haircut if you use the coupon before May first.”

“Well,” Louse said, “we'll just have to go out, Robbie and me, and search up and down the street till we find one of your coupons, Harold, and that way, the next time we come, we won't have to spend George's money at full price.”

Harold didn't say anything.

“We'll come back,” Louise said, “because I love the haircut you gave Robbie, it's just wonderful how he looks now, and I want you to be his barber. I don't mean just now; I mean from now on. Won't that be nice? Every month, you can cut Robbie's hair.”

Harold seemed to nod at the floor.

“Mom?” the boy said. “Go out now?” His mother smiled, opened the door for him, and, as soon as he was out on the sidewalk, she walked over to Harold and kissed him on the cheek.

“Tulips Days,” she said. “What a good way to welcome in the spring.” She brushed a bit of her son's hair off Harold's shoulders and then turned to go. “See you,” she said. “And God bless you, and I mean that.”

When the bell rang again, announcing her exit, Saul put down the magazine he had been reading and walked over to the window, taking his time. Outside, white coupons were fluttering down out of the sky and landing on the sidewalk and in the street; some of the cars going by had their windshield wipers on. Louise's boy stood next to a parking meter in the snowstorm of paper, one coupon stuck to his fore head and another lodged in his shirt at the back of his neck. His mouth was open, as if he hoped a coupon would drop into it. His mother had turned to walk down the street; she was checking in the gutters and poking at the papers with the toe of her boot.

“You know,” Saul said, standing beside Harold at the front of the window, “I love this town. They do this promotion even remember to do it on Saturday, but then they forget about publicizing it, so no one's here, almost, except the usual lay bouts like me, and a few others like that lady out there, grabbing up those coupons. What's the matter, Harold, you feeling a little faint?”

For moment, the barber had leaned forward, and he had had to reach out and touch the sill to straighten up. “I'm fine,” he said. “I had a touch of the flu. Nevertheless, that was last month. I just feel a little bit of it now and then.”

“Must be what screwed up your bowling last week,” Saul said. “Another night likes that, and we'll have to drum you out of the league. Ha.” Saul had a laugh, which was not a laugh, but a spoken word, which he sometimes put at the end of his sentence.

“You guys running these businesses are goint ot have to think of something else next year instead of dumpting all these trashy discount slips out of a hot air balloon onto the street. It is not good for business. It's too weird. I don't care if it is Tulips Days.”

“Saul, yo want your hair cut, or what?”

To be continued on page 3 ….