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It was a few days later that Juliet woke up to a beautiful day. Soft billowy clouds hung like giant puffs of cotton in a sky that was the color of a freshly hatched robin’s egg. A soft, cool breeze coaxed the wind chime into an uneven melody.
Juliet stepped out onto the porch with a hot cup of coffee in her hand. The wooden swing creaked and swayed as she tucked one leg under the other and inhaled deeply. The acrid aroma of the fresh coffee mixed with the tangy smell of pine. Juliet inhaled deeply and thought about the place that she now called home. The town itself was small and the shops on the main street were an eclectic mix of confectionaries, small restaurants, a pharmacy, a clothing thrift shop, and two or three trendy boutiques. There was a large common in the middle of the town that boasted a large, oval gazebo. On Sundays, the drum and bugle corps used the common to practice and the sounds of percussion and brass instruments floated through the air. The precise moves of the flag holders mixed with the happy twirl of batons as they were flown high in the sky and caught with expert precision.
Kids played jump rope and kick ball in the streets. Moms walked in tandem with their baby carriages on wide tree lined sidewalks. On the third Thursday of every month, there was a street festival.
Port Harbor was a friendly, peaceful, family oriented type of town. Layla had been right…it was the perfect place to begin again. Juliet felt a sense of comfort here and just hoped that it would last. Filled with cautious optimism about what the future might hold, Juliet drained her coffee and went in to take a shower. And although she knew she had come a long way, she still had not had the courage to look at her naked body in the mirror. She was under no illusions about her appearance. Her clavicle, hip, and knee bones were sharp as knives, and her belly was concave. It was pointless to wear a bra, but Juliet did anyway. She had found some of those stretchy jogging bras online. She had been working hard on getting healthy. Juliet ate mounds of green, leafy veggies and started each morning with a vitamin infused smoothie. A nightly bowl of rocky road and hot fudge helped with weight gain and a happy outlook. Two days ago, she had started the first period that she had had in over a year.
Juliet stepped out of the shower and cleared the mist on the round vanity mirror. Now, as she looked at her face, she noticed that her cheek bones had filled in a little. She certainly would never win a beauty contest, but it was a start. Juliet had also been working hard to rid herself of the reflexive tendency towards pulling out her own hair. Now, as Juliet turned her head first one way, then the other, she saw with relief that her efforts had been rewarded and the small patches had begun to grow in.
But still…clown hair.
When she had first arrived in town, Juliet had driven by a large shopping area right off the interstate. Although she hadn’t stopped for long, she remembered it as having lots of shopping options. If memory served, the area boasted a large automotive center, a half dozen chain restaurants, several big box retailers, an IMAX cinema center, a day spa, and a host of fashion and shoe stores.
It had been forever since Juliet had just been a girl spending the day at a shopping mall.
Juliet’s first stop was at an overpriced coffee barista where she ordered a mocha cappuccino that was served in an enormous cup and had a heart made with milk floating on the top. She sipped at the coffee while she perused a pamphlet telling which shops were located where. Juliet headed straight for the day spa. She looked at the menu of services and booked herself for the entire day. Ninety minute Swedish massage, microdermabrasion facial, mani-pedi with warm paraffin wax, eyebrows thinned and shaped, and lips hydrated and moisturized.
When it came to the haircut, Juliet held her breath while the stylist put a hand on his hip, walked around the chair, and pursed his lips. Juliet who was draped, seated, and facing the biggest mirror she had ever seen, began to try to smooth her porcupine like hair.
“I know it looks…”
“Non!” The stylist whose name badge said Rafael shushed her with a wave of his hand. “Can you not see that I am thinking!?” He hissed at her as he spun the chair around in a dramatic flair.
“Such a pretty girl with such ugly hair!!! How could you?! How could you?!” Then Rafael put his hand over his heart as though he was mortally wounded.
“Can you fix it?” Juliet asked with contrition.
“Hmm….” Rafael began to circle the chair again. He turned Juliet’s face from side to side several times as if considering whether or not to perform lifesaving surgery.
“Yes, yes. But you!You!” He hissed loudly and wagged his finger at her. “No talking!! You leave this to Rafael!”
With a good deal of tsking and moaning, Rafael set upon Juliet with flying shears. For what seemed like forever he snipped and foiled and fluffed. Finally, without warning he flung off the draping and spun Juliet’s chair around as if they were sharing a seat in the teacup ride at Disney. Juliet held on to the arms of the chair.
Then she gasped at her own reflection.
“I look…”
“Gorgeous, Dahlink!” Rafael interrupted with flourish.
Juliet touched the nape of her neck in fascination. Her hair had been brought back to its original sheen. Rafael in his wisdom, had added some deep copper tones that made Juliet’s every strand shine like a new penny. He had taken all those uneven ends, all those bald patchy bits and styled that whole mess into an adorable bob. The haircut made her neck look long, her ears look delicate and her eyes look huge.
The transformation was remarkable.
At the imperious snap of Rafael’s fingers, a beautiful Asian girl with a curtain of rich, black hair glided over to the station. She gracefully wielded the broom across the Mexican tiled floor. As Juliet watched pieces of her hair disappear, she was struck by the symbolism. The bad hair…uneven, tortured, brittle… being swept away to oblivion. Each strand symbolizing the shock and horror of a love lost and a life built on the most monstrous of lies.
Every lock held a story, every curl a regret.
With a snap of the dustpan, it was all gone.
And as Juliet looked at her reflection in the mirror, she vowed to do better, to be better.
She promised that she would set elevated expectations for herself and for her recovery and that she would live by them.
That night Lucy scrubbed her face and applied the three different facial creams she had bought at the spa. She slipped on the soft, new warm pajamas and put a set of fresh linens on the bed. Juliet lay her head on the pillow and dug deep into the magical world of Mary Stewart’s Camelot. With heavy eyelids she listened to the sound of the rain pattering down on the rooftop while she luxuriated in the feats of King Arthur’s noble knights.
For the first time in a long time, Juliet looked back with pleasure at the day she had had, and she looked forward to the day to come.
The monster loomed grotesque as its shadow grew longer and larger. Flaming eyes and a forked tongue slithered out of a rotted skull and reached for Juliet. Loud screams of pain rang out and split the fetid air as each lash of the monster’s tongue burned and branded her. Cries of pulsing terror shattered through the darkness, as Juliet’s hands began to web and shimmer with thousands of crusty, chartreuse scales. Her tongue swelled in a mouth filled with sharply growing fangs. Juliet’s back arched hideously. The pleas of thousands pulsed all around her. She could not reach them; she could not save them. Juliet had become the monster.
