It had been a full week since the first time Alicia hugged me. Now I planned my day around those few seconds when I might see her. I didn't have anywhere else to be, but I wanted to be sure I was at the station when she got off the subway. The note I held in my pocket said hugging me was the bright spot in her day. Somehow that made it feel like I had a responsibility, but it wasn't one that made me feel like running. Alicia needed a hug every day after work and I got to be the one to give it to her.
I had been thinking about things I had not been paying attention to for a long time. Like the fact that she had only seen me in the same set of clothes, and yet every time I saw her she looked fresh and pretty. It's probably okay that I wore the same jeans and jacket and maybe she didn't notice my shirt. I hoped she didn't think I smelled bad. I was thinking about all this when I passed a barber shop. I dreaded the thought of getting my hair cut and subjecting some barber to my gross nappy head, but now I was considering it. I peered inside and saw the barber sitting alone reading the newspaper. The fact that there was no one else in there gave me the courage to stick my head in the door and asked him how much for a haircut. "Fifteen bucks," he answered without looking up. If he had looked up, he probably would have said thirty. Fifteen bucks meant three days' worth of food, but I decided to go for it. Who knows when I might get another chance to get a haircut in privacy? I entered the door and he looked up and set his paper down.
I felt ashamed of myself, but I sucked it up because I knew I needed to get this over with. I sat in his chair and took off my hat and looked at him to see his response. He didn't look shocked; he just asked, "Are we taking it all off then?"
"Leave whatever you can. I realize there isn't much to work with."
He held up a dread on top and said "I can put some stuff in here that will loosen it up, but most of it will have to come off. I can leave about an inch on top."
"I appreciate that."
He started snipping off dreads and we both were silent. I watched the matted patches of hair fall to the ground and they reminded me of a bunch of little rodents. I wished they would scurry away, go hide in the corner or under some chairs. The man was a middle-aged black guy wearing what looked like a white lab coat over his clothes, and he seemed deep in concentration. He continued to work in silence, detaching the rodents from my scalp and tossing them to the floor. I watched quietly until I couldn't take it anymore, "So is this the worst you've ever seen?"
"What, this?" He laughed. "Man, I have been at this a long time. This ain't even that interesting. You know what I saw a few weeks ago? This dude came in who never had a haircut in his life! Seventeen years old and never had a haircut before -- scissors never touched his head!"
"No shit? Why?"
"Dude was a Sikh, man. They ain't supposed to cut their hair. Dude unwrapped this turban thing and had hair down past his ass. His dad too!"
"What made him cut it?"
"His dad finally let him. They had been fighting about it forever, until one day he took a bunch of pills and tried to kill himself! Then his dad said, 'Okay, the hair can go.'"
"Really? Kill yourself over hair?"
"Well it ain't just that, man, it was the control thing his dad and his religion had over him. Funny -- long hair used to mean freedom, but for this kid it was the opposite. His dad hugged him when it was done and it felt pretty intense up in here."
"Hugs can be potent."
"So can religion. So can father-son relations. So what's your story, man? How'd you get hair like this? Don't look intentional."
"I stopped taking care of myself."
"No shit. How come? You depressed?"
I had not thought about that question before and no one had asked me. In fact, this conversation with the barber was the longest anyone had spoken to me in months. I thought back over the past year and how I felt when Carlos had a family to go home to, and how I couldn't find a new job. I thought about how letting first Thomas and then Jeff move in had ended up kicking me out of my own place, and what a bad decision that was. I thought about how I walked around in a daze everyday, just existing, killing time. "Yeah, I guess I was depressed," I answered.
"Well I hope you come out of it, my man. You're young, got your whole life ahead of you, and now you got a nice haircut. Hey, why don't you let me give you a shave since you're gettin' all cleaned up?"
I agreed and when he was done he turned me around and handed me a small mirror so I could see the back of my head. That's when I looked into the big mirror for the first time. I studied my reflection and was kind of surprised to see that I looked like myself. I expected some older guy to be looking back at me, a guy that looked like he had been living on the streets. Instead, I saw a young, decent-looking clean-cut Ray with light brown skin and dark hair I got from my Puerto Rican Mom, and the greenish eyes that my Irish Dad passed along. The outsides didn't match how I felt inside, and I was glad about that.
"Hey, thanks, man." I paid the barber, shook his hand and left. I walked outside with a naked feeling, as if I lost my shield. I had become used to feeling invisible. I wondered if people might stare at me, but to my relief I was just another anonymous New Yorker walking down a busy street.
After my haircut I was hungry so I went to a busy fast-food place looking for scraps that people left on their trays. The thought of eating other people's food was really making me sick on this particular day, but I had already spent my food money. I finally couldn't take it and broke down for the cheap stuff on the value menu. I ate it but couldn't enjoy the lousy meal knowing I would run out of money before the month ended. I spent the rest of the afternoon at the library reading and charging my phone. I got a text from a high school buddy saying he would be coming to the city that weekend, but I didn't answer him. I really didn't feel like seeing anyone and explaining what I had been up to.
I arrived at the subway station at 5:00 and was glad Robbie wasn't there that day to make a scene or ask for money. When the 5:15 subway arrived I saw Alicia right away. She looked at me and smiled, then looked down all bashful-like. I watched her walking towards me and when she got close I held my arms open and she stepped into my embrace. I inhaled deeply and smelled her fresh hair. She backed up and was smiling, "Hey, you shaved!"