Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes

Chapters 9 and 10

Chapter 9

“Oh, child, you came to the right place. I just got off the phone with Enrique and don’t worry, the haircut won’t cost as much as the tux.”

Alan nodded doing the math in his head trying to figure out how much money he had left. Hector was the spitting image of Enrique, the two looked like they could be twins. “Okay, how much is it?”

“I’ll do you right since my cousin sent you over. Let’s say forty dollars but you have to promise not to go around and tell people that. Why, if my other clients knew I was handing out haircuts for that price– ” Hector waived a dismissive hand at the thought, “Well, I’d be out of business in a week.”

Alan nodded doing the math in his head again. He would be out of money almost to the dollar.

It’s going to be worth it: it’s all going to be worth it.

“Come now, I understand you’re in a hurry for a dance. But don’t worry. Being fashionably late is still in style. And by the time I’m done with you, people will wait for your arrival to start the party.”

Hector snapped his finger with a headshake and directed Alan to a seat. Alan allowed Hector to place a cape around him, tightened at the neck. The bright lights and hyperactive chatter from other patrons in the hair salon made Alan feel anything except at ease.

Alan’s hair grew slowly. This combined with the fact that Alan didn’t mind long hair meant he only visited a barber a few times year. When he did get a cut, it was only because Tony insisted. Tony would provide him with a few dollars and he would make his way to a small mom-and-pop shop, which usually meant a nick or two on the ear.

Hector jawed on about dances and how well Alan would be received as his fingers flew over Alan’s hair like his cousin’s did while tying the bowtie.

Alan smiled as the hairdresser chatted away, however his attention was elsewhere. As the time for the dance grew closer, Alan began second guessing himself. His hands began to perspire on the smooth metal of the styling chair.

What if you’re wrong? What if you are doing all of this just to stand in the corner by yourself all over again?

Alan started to zone out as the familiar feelings of fear and doubt began to take over his once positive outlook. Ironically, it was Hector’s voice that made him stop.

“Come on now, we have to wash and style your hair.”

Alan looked up at the mirror in front of him just as Hector ran to block his view.

“No—no peaking now. We’re just about done. Follow me.”

Alan obeyed following the hyperactive hairdresser to the washing basin. He sat in the leather recliner-like chair laying his head back for Hector.

The salon attendant chattered on while he used generous helpings of shampoo and conditioner.

“Nervous?”

Alan looked up at Hector’s smiling face. “Why would you say that?”

“Ummm… well let’s see. You’ve hardly said a word while you’ve been here, you look like you’re going to bore a whole through whatever you’re looking at and I saw the sweat marks on my chair when you got up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I—“

“Don’t apologize. I’m just asking if you’re nervous. First dance?”

“Yeah, I mean, I am nervous and yes, it is my first dance.”

Hector dried his hair and instructed Alan to follow him back to the styling seat. He stood in front of Alan blocking his view in the mirror. “Don’t worry. We’ve all been there. Be confident and know that you look great. The tuxedo is perfect and…” Hector’s voice trailed off as he mixed a small amount of gel into Alan’s hair. “And your hair—if I do say so myself—looks amazing.”