My New Neighborhood

Version 4

By a Recruit

Living in this neighborhood has been a new experience for me. I used to live in the suburbs, in nice but far away houses. Since my father lost his job, we had to cut expenses and my parents decided that we had to move to a cheaper place.

At the beginning I felt like a rat trapped in what they called a condominium, with dozens of buildings and hundreds of apartments. However, soon enough, I found it’s advantages. There are retail stores all over, and you can find everything you want, from fresh bread to hardware goods, from dentists to barbershops.

I made friends quite easy. Few days after we moved, I was playing outside with many friends. I usually hang around with 4 or 5.guys. Every afternoon we meet in the playground to decide what to do. My mum is quite happy with that, she loves that I play sports instead of watching TV all afternoon as I used to do.

Yesterday I went downstairs and find that the only one in the playground was Ricky. He is 14, the oldest from the gang. We are all around 12 and my mum doesn’t like him too much. She said he is kind of weird, but I like him a lot. He is always inventing new games and adventures.

We talked for like half an hour waiting for the others to come. He was very curious about my hair. I told him I have had it this long since I was a baby. I even confessed to him how anxious I always get when one of my friends get a haircut and how bad I feel when the other guys make fun of him. That’s why I always keep my hair a somewhat long. When I go to the stylist, I ask for a very slight trim, I don’t want anybody asking me if I fell asleep at the barbershop. While I was telling him all this, his eyes were brighten than usual.

What happened next?

Nobody else came. It can't have been too much homework, since school was just out for the summer. I was kind of bored. "What do we do? We can't play baseball or hockey if we are only two" I asked. Ricky said "Don't worry, I have an idea. We are going to have a great afternoon"

"Come on, lets go to my place", he said. While we walked he looked at me and asked, "How can you stand it with all that hair, Aren't you hot?" I shook my head. "I guess I'm used to it, but you should talk, yours is pretty long too." His brown hair was in a pretty long bowl cut . The edges had been buzzed, but a long time ago. He nodded, "My dad cuts my hair to save money, and he can either do a buzz or a bowl. I really like having my hair buzzed. I like really short haircuts." "Then why the long hair?" I asked. "I let it grow this winter so when I get it buzzed I will have a lot to cut off. I think that will be fun. I'm going to get it all buzzed off real soon, now that it's hot; maybe I'll get Dad to do it tomorrow" We got to his apartment after a bit. It was nothing fancy, any more than ours. Ricky looked at my hair again, "I bet you have your hair that long because your Mommy wants you to, don't you?" I didn't know why he was talking about hair so much, but I was happy that he was talking with me at all, me being only 12 and him a couple of years older. It would have been a dull afternoon otherwise. So I told him the truth, "No, she doesn't. We were at my uncle's last weekend. He cuts my cousins' hair and Mom had him give my kid brother a haircut. She used to take us to her stylist but since my father lost his job, we can't afford it and she has trimmed Timmy's hair around the edges, but it was pretty long. My uncle asked her how to cut it and she told him just to buzz it off. He used the clippers with a plastic comb thing on them and just ran them right up the middle of his head. He asked her how that was and she asked him to make it shorter, so he took the plastic thing off and put on a real thin one and did it again. It's really short now, and then she tried to talk me into letting him cut mine, but I wouldn't do it. She said I should so we would save money on shampoo and stuff." Telling Ricky that reminded me of how watching the clippers slice off all of Timmy's hair was kind of scary, but I stood there and watched the whole thing. And when he used the short clippers, how you could see all his skin through the little tiny hairs. It felt funny when I rubbed my hand over it. I had never seen somebody get so much hair cut off. Ricky got a couple of Cokes and we sat around and talked about the city's baseball team. Then he went in the other room and came back with a box. "I wish I had seen your brother getting his hair cut! How short was the plastic comb?" He opened the box and I saw a pair of clippers, a pair of shiny scissors and a pile of the comb things. I looked through them and picked out the shortest one. "Like this." He looked at it and said "Gee, a #1. I had a #2 last summer, but I want a #1, at least, this year. Did you ever cut anybody's hair?" I shook my head. Ricky, continued, "Me neither. Do you want to try it?" He fished the scissors out of the box. "Here, cut off a piece of my hair, if you want." I was startled. "I can't do that, I'm not a barber or anything." He pushed the scissors at me,"It's ok, I'm going to get it all buzzed off anyhow. Try it if you want." I looked at him and it seemed like he really wanted me to do it. Part of me told me that this was getting dangerous, but remembering Timmy's haircut I got that same scary, fascinated feeling again. I took the scissors. "Are you sure?" He nodded vigorously. I stood up and looked at his head. His light brown hair had a little bit of a curl and lay in a tangle of separate locks. Not snarled, but just a bit of a jumble. I picked up one small hunk and lifted it up and gingerly slipped the scissors around it. I waited a moment and then closed the blades. The scissors were sharp, I guess they had never been used, and the piece of hair came off easily. I handed it to Ricky. He took it and laid it on the table."You didn't get a very long piece. You must have just cut off the end of it. Cut a longer piece, I want to see how long my hair really is." "But I'll have to cut it closer to your head." "Yeah!" My hands were shaking a bit as I picked out another bit in the top of his head and slid the scissors down closer to his head. I took a deep breath and just before I closed the blades something made me drop the scissors right down to the bottom of the piece of hair. They left behind a little patch of short stubble, like on Timmy's head. "There, that's how long it is. " I gave him the piece and he laid it beside the other. I t was nearly twice as long and I had cut off a bigger piece as well. Ricky reached up and felt of where I had cut and grinned. "If I comb it over it won't show. Now it's my turn!" The scary feeling turned almost to panic. "No, I don't want to!" "Come on, fair is fair. You said we should try it and you can't chicken out now. Or are you just a baby? You don't have to, I guess. You can go see if there are some of the little kids you can play with." That stung. The scary feeling came back, and I kind of liked that feeling. "Ok, I guess you can, but do it so it doesn't show." Ricky took the scissors and ran his fingers through my hair, lifting it up away from my head. "I got to find the longest part." Finally he pulled up a piece on the top of my head and reached over with the scissors. I felt the cold blades on my head as they went 'snip' and he dropped the piece of hair on the table beside his own. It was twice as long as the longest of his and there was a lot more of it. He had snipped off a pretty big hunk. I reached up and felt where he had cut. It was like a stiff little brush and it was really close to the skin. I got up and went over to the mirror. If I pushed my hair back in front like I usually did, you could see a little place where the hair wasn't and if I pushed my hair down flat, the bristles stood up through the long hair. I didn't want to stop feeling of the brush bristles.

"Gee, I got more of yours. I guess you will have to cut some more of mine to make us even." I knew I should have quit there, but the scary feeling came back and I picked up the scissors. I picked out a hunk, a good sized hunk this time, towards the back of the top of his head and sliced it off, close to his head. Watching his floppy brown hair give way to little brown bristles was really cool, but I realized that he was going to have another turn to get even again. The scary excited feeling came strongly again and I grabbed another chunk, right in the front this time, sawed it off and dropped it all on the table. Ricky looked at the piles and laughed. I sat down and handed him the scissors. He looked at me and asked "Can I?" The scary feeling came to the top as I nodded. "In the front?" I nodded again. He picked up a piece right in the middle of the front and snipped it off. The hunk of hair he lifted away was a big one. I got up and went over to the mirror again. This one really showed, even if I pushed my hair to the side, and it was short. It was neat to feel how it would tip from side to side if I pushed it with my finger. And my skin showed through, just like Timmy's had. I wouldn't be able to hide it unless I combed my hair just right. I felt of the bristles again and the feeling came on strong. It was my turn, I guess, but I sat back down. "More!" This time Ricky didn't bother to lift up my hair, but simply slid the scissors right in along my head and closed the handles. This time they didn't go snip, but made a long scrunching sound. He lifted away a whole fistful of my hair and dropped it on the table. This time I felt a long strip of the bristles running from the front of my head right back up the middle. Ricky offered me the scissors but I pushed them away. I saw that he was breathing hard as he pushed the scissors into my hair again and again. Was this what I had been saving my hair for all these years? He snipped hair from the top and then he pushed my head down and cut across the back of my head, and the pile on the table grew and grew. Finally I pushed him away and took the scissors. "My turn!" I said. I felt of my head. Lots of my long hair was still there, but with brushy patches, long and short all over. Ricky sat down and I looked at him. Except for the one big patch he had most of his bowl cut, but not for long. I lifted up hunk after hunk of his hair and snipped them off, cutting them just as close to his head as I could. He had his eyes closed and a big grin on his face as I worked my way back across his head. Before long I had the top of his head pretty well sheared and I stopped. I went over to the mirror and looked at myself. What a mess! Bits of long hair hanging down, patches of bare skin showing through. "It's time for the clippers." Ricky got them out of their box and plugged them in. "Which comb thing should we use?" I asked. He walked to the mirror and felt of his head. "I don't think you left enough to use one. The clippers have that little lever that will leave some or cut it all off." He sat down and I switched on the clippers. I slid the little lever back and forth so I could see what it did. I set it to the long position and put them down on Ricky's head and pushed them back. The ragged mess evened out to a pretty uniform stubble, shorter than my brother Timmy's, but still stubble. There were a few spots where the scissors had cut a bit shorter, but it looked ok. After all, my turn was coming up. As I thought that, I realized what I was doing, running the clippers over my friend's head and he was going to clip mine-me with the carefully tended long hair. And the scary feeling came back as my thumb pushed the little lever all the way to the short position! The clippers ran over the path again, and the the uniform stubble vanished, leaving bare scalp with a fine sandpaper roughness. The whole thing took only a few minutes, even mowing off the long hair that was left on the sides and back of Ricky's head. And then it was done. His shaggy brown bowl cut was history and he was practically bald. He looked in the mirror and rubbed his head with a big grin on his face. My heart was pounding as I handed him the clippers and sat down. He fired them up and I felt them running right up the middle of my head. Some of the surviving hunks of long hair dropped off in my lap. It was an awesome feeling. Nobody had ever used clippers on me before, and here they went right up the front, up the back and sides, everywhere. And all too soon he was done and my head was nothing but stubble and cool. I looked in the mirror and WOW!, what a difference! Ricky rubbed his head and mine and said "I told you we would have fun this afternoon. I thought maybe I could get to cut a little of your hair, but I didn't think we would wind up like this. What do you think?" I thought a moment and remembered that wonderful scary feeling. "I liked having it cut, and I liked cutting off yours. I never thought I would get a short haircut, and never, never get it all cut off. But I think I'm going to like it, and I'm glad we did it. Boy is Mom going to be surprised!" Ricky laughed, "That was really great! Maybe we can do it again when it starts to grow back. I better get the broom, this place is a mess. Do you want to keep a hunk?" I headed on home, rubbing my head most of the way and looking at my reflection in every window I passed. I couldn't believe what had happened. All the hair I had all my life was gone just like that. And it was true what I had said at the end, I liked having it cut off! Me who never wanted his hair cut, who never had it short in his life. And this wasn't just short, it was really, really short. The feeling of my rough head was fantastic and it was so cool, and I could feel the breeze. And yes, Mom was going to be surprised. When I got in the apartment I called her up at the office to kind of break it to her. "Hi Mom, you remember last weekend at Uncle John's, you wanted me to get a haircut like Tim's and I wouldn't? Yeah. Well I've been thinking about it and went and got one. Yeah, it's really short! I didn't want you to have a heart attack or anything. See you later." I went in the bathroom and stared at my reflection and used the hand mirror to see myself from the side and back. It really looked like I didn't have any hair at all in the strong overhead light. I reached in my pocket and pulled out the comb that I always carried. I ran it over my head, and even lying flat the hair didn't stick up above the teeth. Well, I wouldn't be needing that for a while. I could still feel the snip of the scissors and the buzz of the clippers like it was still happening, and I had to touch my head to convince my brain that it had really happened. When Mom came home with Tim she looked at me and said "I guess you did get your hair cut! And you wouldn't let Uncle John do it." "I kind of wanted to then," I lied. "Where did you get it cut?" I couldn't figure a way around this one, "I went over to Ricky's place this afternoon and we got talking about haircuts. His hair was long and he was going to get a buzzcut and I said I wanted one too, so we decided to just go ahead and do it with his Dad's clippers. It's shorter than Tim's, I know, but that's the way it came out, Ricky's too. This way we didn't have to worry about fixing up the edges. Anyway, I like it like this." Mom looked at me and rubbed my head, "Well, I put up with that awful mop of yours for the last few years, so this is ok, too. At least you didn't dye it purple. If you want to be bald, it's ok with me. Just don't get a sunburn." I was glad that she didn't care. Dad was no problem. He looked at me and grinned, "Well, stranger, that's one heck of an improvement! What took you so long? I kept waking up that night feeling of my head. When I took a shower in the morning, feeling the water hitting my head and running down into my face without any long wet hair flopping around was a new experience. And my head dried in a second with one wipe of the towel. It would take forever to grow my hair back like it was, months and months. And Ricky had said something about doing it again. It wouldn't be the same without our long hair to cut, but we could still use the clippers. I wouldn't have to decide for a week or two, anyhow. A couple of the kids on the playground were really surprised to see me without my hair. They were starting to get into some serious teasing when Ricky showed up. "You guys got a problem with buzzcuts?" he asked. "You guys should get one too." He grinned at me over the top of their heads and threw his basketball at me. "Come on, lets shoot some baskets!" While we were playing he asked me if I had had any trouble at home. "No, Mom said if I want to be bald its ok with her. How about you?" "Dad was glad he didn't have to do it and Mom really doesn't care. Are you going to let it grow now or. . . .?" Without really thinking I said, "I want to see what it's like for a few days, but I'll probably do it again if you want." Ricky grinned, "It's a deal! Here, your shot." Well, maybe I wouldn't grow it back right away! I was surprised how fast my hair semed to grow. Even after a couple of days the rough sandpaper feel started to go away. I was surprised, too, at how fast I got used to not having my long hair. For the first few days, seeing my reflection was startling, as was rubbing my head, but by the end of the week it started to feel and look normal. It was cool and so easy to take care of, I started to wonder why I had ever let it get so long. Thursday, it had been a week, and my hair was about like Timmy's had been when it was just cut. it still looked real short, but it started to feel pretty long. Ricky's was growing in, too, and being darker, his looked like an ordinary buzzcut. He was taking a summer school class so I only saw him in the afternoon. We were playing around and he asked me, "Do you want to, um . . ., you know, tomorrow?" I guess he didn't want the other kids to know. I answered him, "Mom wants me to wait until next week because we are going to my Grandma's for the weekend. Monday?" He grinned and nodded, "I guess I can wait." Monday morning I told Mom at breakfast that I was going to Ricky's in the afternoon. She asked, "Are you going to get your head shaved again?" Yeah, I think so, but it wasn't really shaved." "Well, it might as well have been, with your blond hair. Do whatever you want this summer, but you ought to grow a little bit back when school starts." The first couple of days I had seriously considered letting my hair grow; I liked it short, but sort of missed my long hair. By now, however, I was itchy to feel the clippers again.

After lunch I hung out at the playground, keeping an eye out for Ricky, who finally showed up. When we got to his apartment he had the stool and the clippers all ready to go in the kitchen next to the sink. "I'll flip you to see who goes first." I won the toss and sat down on the stool. Ricky had brought out a small mirror so we could watch. He held out the clippers, "Here you are, Sir, set the lever the way you want it." I grinned and pushed it all the way to the shortest setting. He pushed my head down and started the clippers up the middle of the back of my head. It was neat feeling them running all the way up to the top, but the old scary feeling was hardly there at all. The back went quickly and then he came around to the side where finally I could watch. No great hunks of hair falling away, just a small bunch of blond fluff piling up on the front of the blades. Some of the old feeling came back as he worked his way across the top of my head, watching the bare part of my head get bigger and bigger. All too soon he was done, and I ran my hands over my sandpapery head. Then it was Ricky's turn. "Leave it on the short setting, but leave me a Mohawk strip up the middle. I want to see what that looks like before you finish it off." I mentally traced out a strip an inch or so wide and ran the clippers carefully back alongside on each side. Then I finished the rest of the top of his head. It was fun just pushing his fuzz off into a little pile at the back and leaving the tiny stubble behind. It really didn't take long at all. I used the clippers to make the Mohawk strip into a point at the back, so it didn't go down the back of his head. Ricky got up and went into the bathroom with the little mirror. He came back and said "That looks as dorky as I thought it would. Mow it off!" Which I did. "Well," I said," that didn't take nearly as long as the last time, but its nice to get rid of all that fuzz." "We're not done yet," Ricky said. He went to the sink and sloshed a couple of handfuls of water over his head. then he went into the bathroom again. When he came back he had a spray can in one hand and the other behind his back. "I asked my Dad and he said I could use these." He held out a couple of disposable razors, and I saw that the can was shaving cream. "I always wanted to get my head really shaved and see what it's like, and today's the day. Here, squirt some of this in your hand and rub it all over my head." He handed me the shaving foam and sat down. Well, the scary feeling was back as strong as ever! Rubbing the slippery foam over his scratchy head was one cool feeling! "Dad showed me what to do. Just pull it along by the handle and don't ever slide it sideways or you will cut me. And it will shave smoother depending on which way you go and how the hair grows. Oh, yes, use short strokes and rinse the stuff off under the faucet." He handed me a razor and picked up the mirror. "Do right in the front first!" I snapped the plastic guard off the razor and carefully put the blade on the front of his head and slid it back carefully. I could hear a kind of scraping sound, but it slid back very easily. I felt of the spot with my finger and there was no sandpaper feel, just smooth. I widened the spot and pulled the razor farther back on his head. When I rinsed off the blade some small brown lumps wound up in the sink. I guessed that that was what was left of the tiny hairs. Using the razor took a lot longer than the clippers, mostly because I was being so careful to do it right. Pretty soon, though I had scraped off all of the foam from the top of Ricky's head and his sandpaper bristles too. At the little circle at the crown of his head the razor left his head a little rough until I remembered to go the other way. The back of his head was the same way. It was easiest to go from the top down, but that didn't get it really smooth. But if I went up first Ricky said it pulled a lot. So I did the back and sides down first and then put more foam on and went up. Finally I figured I was done, so I wiped off all the little bits of foam with a wet rag and felt of his head to see if I had missed anything. Rubbing his head was awesome, it was so smooth! No sandpaper, no nothing. Even with the short clippers he looked like he had a real short buzzcut, but not now. There was a little bit of a brown shadow, but no sign of a hair and his head was so shiny and smooth! He had got enough of a tan the last few days so you could hardly tell where his hair had been. And Ricky had brought two razors out of the bathroom. And what had Mom said about how I might as well have my head shaved and I could do whatever I wanted this summer. Well, the scary feeling knew what I wanted. I went to the sink and filled my hands with water and splashed it over my head and sat down on the stool. "We have to take turns, don't we?" Ricky laughed, "I hoped you would want to try it" Feeling and hearing the scrape of that razor burned itself into my memory every bit as much as the snip and buzz of the scissors and clippers had the last time. Combs belong on the top of your head, not razors, but there it was, moving farther and farther back and around the crown and up the back. It did pull a bit, but not too bad. A scraping, pulling feeling the first time and then a smooth slide the second. I wanted it to last forever, but of course it was only a few minutes. I went to the sink and filled my hands with water again. What a feeling!! My head was perfectly smooth and slippery. I went into the bathroom to have a look. Bald. That was the only word for it, bald! Smooth shiny skin, no hair, no shadow, no sign that there had ever been hair, and that wonderful scary feeling of a smooth hairless head. Grow it back?? You're out of your mind! Ricky rubbed his head again and again, "This is really awesome! It feels so smooth! What do you thnk?" I felt of mine again. I tried to remember what my mop of hair had felt like only a few days before, but my fingers just felt my smooth skin. "I love it! We gotta do it again, and soon, don't you think? " Ricky grinned and nodded, "The other guys will think we're nuts, but who cares. We better buy our own razors, though for when these get dull. Come on, lets go shoot some baskets."