It was two o'clock, and the waiting room smelled like stale smoke from a sweetly flavored cigarette and old, cheap upholstery. The high-pitched whine of the mechanic's torque wrench drowned out most of the voice of the reporter on the sports channel. The receptionist was playing solitaire on the ancient, oily computer that could only run a prehistoric version of Windows.
The yellowed oscillating fan was blowing back and forth across the mother and son waiting for their back tires to be replaced with ones that weren't balding so much that fine little wires were showing through. The mother got up and fidgeted around with the controls on the fan until it quit blowing on the two of them. It was already drafty in here, and somehow the fan seemed to stir up that dirty upholstery smell.
The son, about 5 years old, was curled up in his favorite purple blanket in a brown leather chair. He chewed his double mint gum loudly with his eyes closed, leaning back with his head just beneath a large hole with yellow stuffing poking out like a nicotine dust bunny. The mom played with her little son's hair idly and tried to enjoy the sports on the little T.V.
An hour later, the mechanic poked his head through the little sliding-glass window into the office. The window was so grimy that the receptionist jumped when it slid open and his head popped through. She stood, her nerves resettling, and called the mom over to pay for the two new Firestones.
Her son woke up when she got up to go pay the bill. She was signing her name when she heard him crying. The mom turned and walked back to him, seeing the distress in his eyes and asking what was the matter?
She tried to pull the blanket away from his face, but it was stuck. She could smell mint and knew he had fallen asleep with his gum in his mouth. The blanket was all gummed into his hair and everything. The receptionist saw what was happening and walked around the counter. The mom looked as distressed as her boy did, now.
"Stuck pretty good, yeah?", said the short lady who acted as receptionist and mechanic's wife.
"Yeah. Oh, I don't know why I didn't take the gum out of his mouth. I knew he was falling asleep", said the mom, blushing.
"Just wait right here", said the little woman and she hurried off behind her reception area.
She rustled around for a few minutes and couldn't find what she was looking for. She slid the glass window open and shouted into the garage, "Hey! Hon! See any scissors in there?"
"Yeah, baby. One sec", the mom heard the lady's husband reply.
The mechanic came in with some huge metal scissors, and the sight of them made the boy cry louder. The mom put her arms carefully around his head, minding the patches of chewing gum. He cried and cried louder. When he started to cry himself out and calm down, he felt a gentle tug at the blanket and a cool breeze run across where the gum was hurting his hair.
He noticed a sound like when he went to the hair dresser and tried to look, but couldn't see. The blanket was peeling free, and he could see the receptionist's bra with her bending over him that way. The boy saw part of the blanket. There was the purple cotton in the background, with a huge patch of white and gobs of his hair clinging to it. He thought to scream, but suddenly the whole mess came free, and he felt abrupt relief.
The receptionist was laughing, looking at the boy's expression of complete bewilderment. His mouth hung wide open, looking at most of his hair, gone in an instant. His blanket was almost certainly ruined, but the breeze blowing across the bald patches on his scalp felt sort of nice.
"Well, I guess I won't charge ya for the haircut. Since ya bought two new tires 'n all", said the receptionist with a big friendly grin.
The boy smiled and his mother laughed loudly, trying not to cry. The tension was broken, and her son had made it out without any irreparable damages. What would his father say? she wondered. |
Submission Name: Premature Balding
