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I open my mouth, then close it. Cut my hair? “Are you fuckin’ nuts? I don’t do that for anyone.”
It’s like he hasn’t heard me. “And shave off that poodle you got on your face.”
I touch my beard. My face hasn’t seen the light of day in six years. “I don’t think I can.”
“You better or her parents will hate you on sight and she might not wanna be with someone they don’t like. Besides it’ll make them respect you more.”
“So would my gun. Maybe I’ll just bring it to dinner.” I drain my beer and crush the can between by hands.
Dad grunts as he faces forward again. “Cut the hair, shave, get a decent pair of jeans. You might have the girl right now, but if you wanna keep her, you gotta respect her.”
He shuts the line of conversation down and I let him. For all I know, I’m so ugly under the beard that Evanee will take one look at me and run for the hills. I’ll never have sex again.
We’re quiet for a moment, then dad says, “What else goin’ on with you? Do I gotta start watchin’ my back again?”
I think about it. I try to bring him in when the Jury’s in lockdown, but he refuses. “It’s my time to die when it’s my time to die.” He’s not that old, but I get it. He gave up on life when mom did. At least he stuck around, though I’m not always sure it was because of me. Still, I’m one of the lucky ones – some of my brothers had it a whole lot worse.
“You should always watch your back, old man,” I reply as I toss the crushed beer can on the pile that’s already there. “We have more fuckin’ enemies than you have hemorrhoids.”
That gets him chuckling. “Another beer?” he nods to the empty can.
“Can’t,” I tell him as I stand. “Gotta get a haircut.”
“Won’t recognize you if you do but lookin’ forward to seein’ your ugly puss.” He pauses as he contemplates me. “Bring the girl over soon.”
I grin. “I’ll let you know when.”
After I leave, I drive around for a while. My bike is my solace, but I’m not as obsessed as some of the guys. When I joined the Jury, I didn’t have a sled and Hangman bitched about that until I got one. He said I’d be a prospect until I showed up with a Harley.
I scrimped and saved and I’ll admit, rolled a few assholes in Reno until I could afford a rusted old bucket of shit Harley that someone had stashed in a back yard. The fuckin’ thing wasn’t even runnin’ but I walked it into the clubhouse to my brothers’ applause. It got me my cut.
Jawbone got it runnin’ for me and once I was part of the club, I earned enough to buy a new one. I didn’t though. I bought a used one in honour of my upbringing. Nothing shiny or precious for me. If it can’t take a beatin’ it don’t deserve to be rode.
An hour of delaying, I finally get the courage to follow my old man’s advice. I roll into Sagebrush, stoppin’ at the first place I see. It isn’t until I’m inside and being stared at by seven women of various ages, shapes and color, that I realise I should have went lookin’ for a barber.
A woman of about forty saunters up to the counter. “Can I help you, gorgeous?” she asks without a trace of fear. She’s wearing a tag on her chest with the name Annie on it.
Too late to back out now. I’m not about to lose face in front of a bunch of women. “Yeah,” I grunt. “Need a haircut and a clean-up on the beard.”
Her face lights up, but then falls when she looks at her appointment book. “I don’t have room until four o’clock.”
Relief hits me like a five-ton truck until a woman older than Rocky’s grandma pipes up from her chair in the waiting area. “Annie, he can have my appointment. Clearly the young man needs some TLC and I don’t mind waiting.”
There’s a general murmur from the other women and a big smile from Annie. “You’re a doll, Laura. I’ll discount you.”
I try to get Laura to change her mind. “Don’t wanna put you out.”
“Oh honey,” she says with a shit-eatin’ grin on her face that rivals mine just before I go down on my girl. “I wanna see the handsome under your beard.”
“Mmm hmmm,” says a beauty a few years older than me. She’s one of the hairdressers and has an ass on her that I’d have tapped in a minute a few weeks ago. My dick’s droopin’ though, knowing the best ass in town belongs to Evanee and that’s the only ass I’ll be tappin’ for the rest of my life.
Before I can run like the coward I am, Annie drags me to the back of the shop and shoves me into a chair that backs onto a sink. “You’re gonna need a wash before we get started. Hair and beard.”
She whips a bib with Velcro fasteners around my neck that covers me from my arms down to my knees. I get a sense of vertigo as she reclines the chair and shoves my head back into the sink. I have this horrible feelin’ I’m about to get my throat slit, but she starts sprayin’ the tepid water on my hair, then dumps some shampoo on it and rubs it in. Fuck if it don’t feel good to have her fingers massage my scalp.
“What kind of haircut are you having?” a voice that’s smoked too many cigarettes filters over to me.
The woman with the ass says, “I think it should all go.”
