Ruffled Hair
Boy oh boy, was Crosshair mad. He sat hunched in the back seat, arms crossed firmly over his chest and frown pulling the features of his otherwise youthful face down into a sag. No one else in the car dared talk to him in this state. That was fine with him. He wasn't in the mood to talk. Not when he was stewing on his feelings and all the ideas they brought.
They were heading home from a visit to Grandma and Grandpa's house. It had been a while since their last trip, as the start of school kept them too busy to do much else. This meant their lack of a recent haircut really stood out to their grandparents. Hunter had always had longer hair - he always threw a fit when their mom tried to do more than a little trim - but the other boys were fine with more regular haircuts. The problem was Cross's hair seemed to grow faster than the others'. So he received the brunt his Grandma's fixation.
So shaggy! she'd cooed while ruffling his hair, several times throughout the day.
And then, just when they were about to leave, she'd added... You'll look just like Hunter soon!
That had been the final straw. Crosshair had swatted at her hand, and was then promptly grounded.
He'd been told to use the car ride home to think about his behavior. Well, he was thinking, but not about the disrespect he'd shown his grandma. No, he was planning.
He was nothing like Hunter. He definitely did not want to look like him. He'd have to do something about it.
As soon as their van pulled into the driveway, he bounded out and made a beeline for the house. He could hear his mom's warning of a "serious talk" calling after him but he ignored her. He was a boy on a mission.
Rather than holing himself up in his room, he instead slipped into his mom's. Her room was the only one in the house with a lock on the door. He quickly turned the lock and rushed over to the bathroom, pulling open the drawer where she kept the hair clippers. There were different head attachments, which he knew were for different lengths but didn't know how to tell the difference. He guessed the smallest one would be the best for what he wanted.
As he turned the device on and began mowing the first stripe across his head, he could hear his mom trying to open the door and knocking on it a few times. He couldn't really hear what she was saying, but it wasn't hard to imagine she was not very happy. No problem. He'd take whatever punishment came of this. But she couldn't put his shaggy hair back and that's all that mattered to him.
He moved the clippers over the rest of his head, but was growing more frustrated with how horrible it looked. It was so uneven. Some rows still had a lot of hair left, while other rows seemed to be almost bald. He bit his lip to keep it from wobbling. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
"Bold choice."
Crosshair jumped. He hadn't noticed his mom in the mirror, standing just behind him.
"How'd you get in?"
"You're not the only one who knows how to climb through windows."
Beth walked up and cocked her head, but didn't say anything. Crosshair felt unnerved by her calmness.
"I don't like people touching my hair."
"I didn't want it to be that long anyway."
"I can't look like Hunter."
On and on he went, his voice trembling more as he realized what a mistake this all was.
"Okay," Beth eventually said when he ran out of things to say. "Make sure you clean up this mess now. I'm heating leftovers for dinner."
She turned as if leaving and Crosshair panicked.
"What? No, Mom, please. I can't let them see me like this. They'll tease me."
"Put on a hat."
She was walking away and Crosshair found himself doing the one thing he hated doing the most - crying.
He let the clippers fall onto the counter as his vision became too blurry to see. He clasped at his cut-up head in despair. This was the absolute worst day of his life.
But no sooner had the tears fallen did he feel his mother's arms wrap around his thin frame and pull him close. He clung to her, trying to apologize and beg for help, but everything coming out of him was just blubbering nonsense. Beth let him have his moment before finally pulling away and getting on her knees to face him.
"You want to have your own look? That's okay. Just ask me next time, alright? And don't you dare treat your grandmother that way again. Got it?"
He nodded his head furiously.
"Can you fix it?"
Beth ran her fingers over the varying patches of hair in thought. "Well, sweetheart, I think the only thing we can do is shave it all off now."
Crosshair gulped but still nodded. "Okay."
"And you should still wear hats," said Beth as she stood and picked up the clippers. "It's October now, I don't want you catching a cold."
Crosshair was okay with that. He was already planning his Halloween costume and could easily work a hat into the ensemble....