An excerpt from "The One-Tailed Fox." The scene in particular lacks the titular fox. It's about a 5 year old girl getting her first ever haircut. Her school requires every girl and boy to have short hair. Anyways, here it is, hope you like it:
Milah and her dad were standing outside the town antique shop, the owner of which just happened to also cut hair. Don't ask me.
“Dad, can't I just wear a cap?” asked Milah. “I can tuck my hair up and nobody'll know. See?”
She started balling her hair up on top of her head.
“Aw, I wish you could, kiddo,” said Milo, “but the school's pretty strict on this stuff.”
Milah sighed and looked at her feet as she gently kicked a hapless dandelion back and forth.
“Who knows, you might like having short hair. Your sister likes her hair.”
Milah moaned in protest as they walked inside.
“Ohhhhhhhhh.”
The shop looked like an episode of Hoarders. There was stuff everywhere. It was a lot to take in. It was different than any store she had seen before, but it didn't look so bad. She actually liked the way it looked. A man with a thick gray mustache and black eyebrows stood behind the counter. He looked scruffy and hard-edged, like Sam Elliott, but without the amazing voice. He sounded like a raspy Lee Marvin, definitely not a singer. He didn't look like a nice person at all.
“Hey Wart.” said Milo.
“Howdy” he said gruffly.
Milah was wary of this guy. He was scary. And just what kinda name is “Wart” anyway? What a ghastly title, and who knows how he got it.
“This one here needs a haircut.” said Milo.
Milah shied behind her dad.
“Well, I believe I can help you out there. A little off the top? Or hows about a clean shave?”
Milah imagined herself bald and sharply gasped.
Wart laughed heartily. “Why don't we step into my office,” he motioned, “Say, Milo.”
“Yeah?”
“Think you could look after the store for a spell?”
Milo smiled and gave a thumbs up.
“Sure thing, pal.”
“But dad.” groaned Milah.
“Don't worry, Milah,” said Milo, “I'll be right outside. You can trust Wart. I've known him forever. He's good people.”
“Come on, sweetheart, you'll be just fine. I promise.”
He took her into a cluttered back room with no windows and over to a ratty old barber's chair that looked like it came straight from District 12.
“Have a seat.” he smiled.
Milah shook her head.
“You're right,” he said, “what you need is a booster seat.” He grabbed a small plastic chair from a pile of various things and sat it on the barber's chair.
“There, now you'll be able to see yourself in the mirror, see?”
“I don't trust you” she said coldly.
“Aw, don't be nasty now. I have feelings just like you do. You can trust me.”
Milah felt a bit bad. She looked at her feet as she gently kicked a hapless rubber ducky back and forth.
The old man smiled charmingly. Milah took a deep breath and slowly walked over.
“There you go” he laughed.
Milah climbed up into the chair on the chair as gracefully as a sack of hammers with a hole in it.
“There's a good girl. Now, how do you want it?”
Milah didn't say anything.
The old man chuckled a little. “What's that? A purple mohawk you say? With cornrows down the back, and green pigtails on the sides?”
“No!” Milah said sharply as she clutched her hair.
Wart chuckled.
“Hey, listen, I may look a little scary, but I'm just the same as anyone else. Watch out though, 'cause I'm a joker” he winked.
“Now,” he said. “what'll it be?”
“Um, I... I have to get my hair short for school or I can't go.”
“Short hair, huh? I'll tell you what sweetheart, hows about I do something special for you?”
“L-like what?”
“Oh, It's a surprise.”
The man turned Milah away from the mirror and went to work on her hair. All she could see was her red hair falling to the floor. This man was a butcher she thought. Her head must look horrid. Before she knew it it was over.
“Alright, now close your eyes.”
“Okay, they're closed.” Milah put her hands over her eyes and Wart spun the chair-chair around.
“Okay sweetheart, you can open 'em now.”
Milah opened her eyes and stared in disbelief. There was a girl with beautiful short curls in the mirror.
“Who's that?” she asked.
“That's you, silly.”
“That doesn't look so bad,” she laughed, “and it's nice not having my hair in the way all the time.”
“There you go! I told you you could trust me” he winked.
Milah felt bad for the way she behaved earlier
“I'm... I'm sorry for how I acted.”
“Oh, it's alright, sweetheart. No damage done. Just remember that what you think about someone should be from how they act, and not how they look. Have you ever seen Beauty and the Beast?”
“I've never seen a movie before, but I read the book with my mom.”
“So they made a book out of it, huh? I'll be darned.”
“Um, thank you for cutting my hair.”
“Don't mention it, sweetheart. And this one's on the house” the old man smiled. “Change can be scary though, huh?”
“Yeah, but sometimes it's not so bad.” Milah smiled at her curly new 'do.
1991
