Too Far Gone (Urban)

26| Not in Vain

A week later...

"And then, you wrap your hair around like this..." Keke spoke softly to Chenelle as she took the front piece of her hair back around her head. Chenelle eyed her reflection in the mirror, watching her twist up the strand of hair and pin it back. Half of her head sported a cloudy fro, while the other side was noodle-like. "Actually, no."

Chenelle closed her eyes and let out a sigh. "Auntie Kee, I have to leave soon."

Keke sucked her teeth, grabbing a nearby spray bottle and blasting her puff with water. The stretched strands slowly reverted back into perfectly clumped curls. She then grabbed a blow dryer and attached a diffuser to the nozzle.

"Sorry baby, I just haven't seen you in a while." She puckered. The blow dryer began to blow a warm jet of air through the diffuser. Scrunching up her hair in her hands, Keke eyed Chenelle. "Would a wash and go be okay with you?"

Chenelle rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I'll just throw it up into a bun..."

Keke visibly stiffened up, crestfallen at heart. Chenelle noticed this and sighed again.

"I'm sorry. You know I haven't came here since mom passed. She always knew what to do with my hair." She explained, which was true. Chenelle never had to tell her momma what to do with her hair. All she had to do was take a long look at you and get to work.

She never disappointed anyone. Not many people come to this shop anymore. It's practically deserted. When she was younger, she remembered sitting in one of the empty salon chairs watching her momma work her magic on one of her client's heads. She always focused on her work as if she was painting pictures, sweat building up over her brow, which she took a brief second to wipe away.

Her mother inspired her to be a cosmetologist, but God - if such a man existed - seemed to have had other plans...

"Alright, do whatever you want." Keke said with a new attitude, almost bitter. Chenelle eyed her as she made her way to the backroom and slammed the door closed, causing the other few clients to look up suspiciously. One of the clients, who happened to be under the hooded dryer, stared at Chenelle with such intensity that she felt it from a distance. As soon as she looked over, the woman hid herself behind her Boy Toy magazine.

"Fucking weirdo..." Chenelle mumbled out loud. She dug around in her pocket for a crisp twenty dollar bill, and on her way out, handed it to the receptionist who muttered a 'Come again'.

Stepping outside into transitioning Stilwater, a nippy breeze immediately greeted her. She shivered slightly and closed up her black jacket. Her yellow punch bug came closer to her view as she twisted and twirled her hair into a quick messy bun. She pulled down a few strands of hair around the perimeter of her head to complete the one minute look.

She held her hand on the door handle while she searched for her keys in her coat pocket. Once she found it, she eagerly entered her bug and switched on the ignition. The car let out a shrill shriek before purring.

She'll have to have that checked out. She then peeked at the digital clock as she turned on the heat. 10:05am. She was late as usual. The boss was going to be pissed. She didn't fully wait for her car to warm up before she pulled off. She couldn't waste another minute. Good thing the cemetery was just a football field away.

Pulling up to the scene, she noticed a bunch of purple cars were everywhere. A few were even rolled up on the grass, away from any tombstones of course. Chenelle parked in the first open spot she saw and exited the car. The gang already started, and she could faintly hear someone's dull voice in the distance. As she got closer, she could see someone standing at a podium through the dense group of people. All the Saints wore black and purple today.