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 The Beauty Salon  (6 ratings)by Roger Born Page 1 of 2 She had no idea that the beauty salon would become the central place of her
life, but she could see it all so well in retrospect.
She arrived at four to have her hair done. She had a late date with her boyfriend. Other women sat under three of the four hair driers, with magazines on their laps. As she surrendered to the sampoo and massage she half listened to their conversation. "Do you at least know what he looks like?" "No. I never got a look at him. At least he was nice to me." "Thats probably wishful thinking on your part. How could you know?" A third one worried aloud, "I want to get out of here" The others hushed her. "How could you leave?" "How could you leave us?" the other one snapped spitefully. The technician lifted her head and quickly placed a towel over her, covering her eyes. "Don't do that, I want to see." "Querde?" said the spanish woman who was doing her. "They never speak English!" she thought to herself. Sudden silence greeted her from the three, as she was half led to the red chair in front of a mirrored wall. She felt suddenly disoriented as she sat there, almost as if she was looking from somewhere else, other than her own body. There were also mirrors on the opposite wall. They reflected back the scene in front of her as she sat on the chair between them. She forgot about this feeling as the three under the driers spoke again. "Who was it this time? Did you see him? Where did he take you?" "I don't know. I just miss my family!" One of them whispered fearfully. "Perhaps you see them too, after all." "Oh no! They would come and get me, I know they would." The second one said to be quiet. "Your family? They never see anything do they? Nobody ever does. Its too late you know." Silence again. She winced as the chemicals were poured on her head. She wanted to see the girl behind her who seemed so frightened, but the plastic on her forehead hid her eyes. All she could see out of the corner of her eye was four foam heads on the shelf to her right. Three of them were covered with fashionable hairpieces. Someone had taken the time to put false eyelashes on those three. How odd. It gave the white foam heads an almost human appearance. Three technicians came from the back and took the those under the driers to the chairs to her right. Quick Spanish greeted her ears as two of the technicians spoke between themselves. They seemed to be giving instructions to her woman who was giving her a frost. She waited for any of the three to speak again, but in vain. Again, from the corner of her eye she thought she saw a blinking movement from one of the three foam heads. The eyelashes must have fluttered as a technician placed a towel over it. She became aware of a vague uneasiness. "Why would she cover it with a towel?" She thought to herself. "Could we please hurry? I need to leave by six." All the woman did to answer was to turn her chair to face the entrance. People passed by in the mall outside the door. Some fashionably dressed men sat on a bench across from the entrance. They looked Spanish, or perhaps South American. They seemed to be waiting for something, but she forgot to pay attention as the last of the curlers ware fastened tightly to the back of her head. That always hurt. The woman covered her head with a small towel as she was let to the dryer. The towel was off and the hood was placed well down over her head, giving her clostrophobia. She waited for the woman to leave and raised it slightly so that she could see. She saw the three sitting in their chairs with their backs to her. In front of them were the three hair pieces she had noticed before. As the women worked over the girls, removing curlers and combing their hair into shape, she saw that the foam heads had the same exact color and style as those who sat in the chair in front of them. "What an odd coincidence." She thought to herself, as she looked at her watch. She read her fashion magazine vacantly, squinting under the florescent lighting. The light made her look again at the room. She noticed the bevel at the edges of the mirrors, how they reflected blue and yellow from the bars of lights overhead. "You would think that they would put better lighting in a salon so you could properly see your new hair color." She thought to herself. She wondered why she had never noticed such a thing before, but the vacant story she was reading suddenly grew interesting, so she forgot the thought. Copyright © 1999, 2000, 2001 Roger Born, sffworld.com. All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the author. The author has submitted the work in accordance with and in agreement with the following Submission Guidelines. |
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