FLOWER

CHAPTER 10.8

 What I see satisfies me one hundred percent. I don't have a single complaint about my hairstyle. No problem with tangled hair and struggling with the brush. I have just mastered the shags finally. I can finally breathe calmly and without any nerves. So little is needed for peace of mind.

- Bożydar. Come here immediately.

Mom is in the doorway, looking at me terrified. Her arms hang limply on either side of her body. Dad stands next to her and freezes with his mouth open when he sees me. Mom's breathing slowly increases, her face turns red with anger. Sister Kuka follows them.

- Oh my. I'll make you some lemon balm, mom. - He disappears at the same moment.

- Dearest, go to Nasturtia and drink some tea. I'll handle it. - It's obvious she wants to argue - I can handle it. - Then he kisses her gently and turns her towards the corridor.

- This scarecrow needs to be taken away...

- Honey, slowly.

He walks over to the bed and sits on it. He looks around uncertainly. He looks nervous. He tries not to scare me.

- Little flower, everything's fine. - He looks at the floor full of hair.

- Now it is.

- And before?

- I was a little angry.

- Is this about the argument with your mom, about rearranging your things?

- She shouldn't have left the sweatshirt in the back of my drawer. And blame it on me. That it's my fault. - I immediately felt nervous.

- I see. But what did your hair do to deserve such a miserable end?

- Hair did not want to comb. And I used all the conditioners on them.

- Aha. And you are satisfied with the result. - I look in the mirror and smile.

- Not.

- Flower, however, agree to a little polishing of this wonderful hairstyle by a professional. Only and only so that your mother can sleep peacefully. - She makes pleading eyes. - And for me, she will torment me, little flower.

- All right. Alternatively, I may agree.

I go with my dad to the kitchen. Mother is drinking lemon balm, nervously tapping her nails on the cup. My sister bites her lip and glances at me then at Mom.

- I have good news, Róża agreed to go to the hairdresser.

- You mean to tell me that there was another option? - She points her finger at me. - You to the car, no discussion.

- I have to go in my pajamas?!

- Don't trigger me, child. I'm asking you very much.

I'm going to change quickly.

- You have a second to overtake me. I want to see you in the car.

Unfortunately, I don't manage to listen to it. And I feel unpleasant eyes on me when I get in.

- Which barber shop is open now?

- Don't worry about it anymore.

- Dad can come with me.

- If you come back with a hairstyle like your father, I'll be in jail. For a double murder. - She said it so seriously that it gave me chills. - Put a hood on this nest.

The atmosphere in the car can be sliced. It is unpleasantly thick. It actually sticks to my hair. The road passes in total silence. Fortunately, the salon is not far. He is standing next to the photographer. From the facade, the buildings are identical with one common wall. One exception is this the inscription hairdresser is not a sign and the letters glued to the window.

The pvc carpet, which imitates the grain of wood, is chipped at the joint through the middle of the small living room. And in the most frequently walked areas it is worn down to white. There are three stools placed in a row against the wall. The white skin on them is black in the folds and cracked, revealing dirt old one sponge. The yellowed shelf under the mirrors is plywood scratched from use.

A lady with numerous wrinkles smiles at us on a sunken sofa. Squinting, she puts on her glasses, which are suspended on a golden string around her neck. We welcome each other.

- You're welcome. - I sit down in the armchair and take off my hood. - What's going to happen here, boy. - It promises to be an unforgettable visit.

- Haircut, maybe we'll shave the sides. - My mother's gaze immediately settles me and closes my mouth. This is not the time to joke yet

- My daughter's wit has returned. - The hairdresser squints her eyes. - Please do not listen to her. Please try to keep her hair as long as possible.

- It's a girl. - We nod along with my mother. - It will be very difficult. And how long was the hair before? - The hairdresser runs her hand through my hair.

- Waist-length. - He puts the cape on me, almost suffocating me.

- What happened? - He sprays water on my beautiful hair.

- Some mischievous child got scissors in his hand. - Mom, saying this, looks me straight in the eyes.

She starts cutting hair. Already after a while I am cut in the ear. The old woman immediately goes to disinfect the tool and wipes the wound with a cotton pad soaked in some medicine. The smell of which stings my eyes.

- Did you stay with Sofía Martínez López? She treated my niece the same way two years ago. She went to sleep and when she woke up, she was bald. Poor thing, I thought the poor thing would not stop crying. To console her there was no way. I see that your daughter is doing well.

- She's already cried her tears, Fortunately, hair not teeth and will grow back. True, Róża.

- Yes.

I look in the mirror and the hairdresser is almost finished. Not seeing that much of a difference. Why couldn't I get it in the previous version?

- A bit boyish, but this cut is made for you. I guess this wasn't the effect your friend was looking for. She'll tear her hair out when he sees you.

- Thank you.

The mother just gasped in defeat at the sight of the finished hairstyle. She pay and we leave the salon.

- Don't like it?

- Your father used to have his hair cut like that, I had to argue with him about changing his hairstyle. I'm scared to go home.

The road to the hovel passes in silence. Mom glances at my hair every now and then. As if she wants to prepare internally for something. We reach our destination and I show myself at the threshold of the salon to my dad. To which he greets me with a smile.

- You look beautiful, little flower.

- Thanks. - Mom is walking down the hall.

- Honey, how about...

- Out of the question!

- You don't even know what I mean.

- Bożedar, I know perfectly well what's on your mind right now. And I advise you to forget about it.

She doesn't even stop and goes straight to the bathroom. Dad looks at my hair. And he follows her to the bathroom. He will try his hand at it again.