This story is a work of fiction solely from the twisted mind of Chromex. Any resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters are of at least 18 years of age unless otherwise specifically mentioned. Please do not copy/redistribute the story, in part or total, without the author's permission.
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"Ok here we go," Vivian said as she lowered the back of the chair to the sink, "Just close your eyes and relax." The water was cool as she rinsed the excess dye from my hair, her fingers caressing my scalp as she did. After a couple of minutes, I opened my eyes and saw the look of sheer panic on her face.
"It's still blue isn't it." The look on her face told me everything I needed to know, but I wasn't surprised. The party was three weeks ago and while Tiffany's hair had immediately returned to blonde after the first washing, mine had not. We'd tried several different brands and colors of hair dye, but nothing ever stuck.
"I am so sorry," Vivian said, "I've never seen anything like this happen before."
"It's ok, I wasn't expecting it to work anyways. This was just a final try. It looks like I am stuck with blue hair for a while."
"I'm sure it will just grow out eventually," Vivian said, "Wait a second, actually it looks like the ends took the color." Holding up the end of my hair, I could see the black tips contrasting the dark blue of the rest. It was hard to see as the blue was nearly black when wet, but there was just enough of a difference for me to tell.
"I'll just have to be patient I guess." I had a feeling my hair was going to be blue until Gandalf grew tired of it, whenever the fuck that was. Finishing the appointment, I finally understood why women enjoyed having their hair done. It was nice to relax and let someone else take care of it for a while. I made sure to give Vivian a large tip to make up for her stress over the color not taking.
Leaving the salon, I stopped for lunch at a Greek place near the house. Pulling the jeep into a spot, I was startled when my phone started to ring. Snatching it out of my bag, I didn't recognize the number but decided to answer it anyway. "Hello?"
"Sara, it's Elisa," the voice said. It took me a few moments to place the name as I had not heard from her in several months.
"What's up Elisa? It's been a while."
"Sara, I hate to do this but Gandalf has switched someone and Vic and I are stuck in Malta. Is there any way you could go and talk to them?"
"That son of a bitch. It's bad enough he's fucking with my life, turning my hair blue, but now he's switched someone else? Sorry, just venting. Where can I find them and which way was the switch?" I could hear Elisa trying not to snicker on the other end of the line.
"He turned your hair blue? I hate to ask but have you tried dying it back?" She was doing a really bad job of not laughing at me.
"Repeatedly, I just left the salon and all I got was black tips."
"Interesting, I've never heard of him doing that. The person he switched is named Frank Thomas, he's a welder, and he's in St. Paul's Hospital in Vancouver."
"Vancouver as in Vancouver British Columbia?"
"Yes," Elisa said, "the one in Canada. Is that a problem? "
"Other than the snow and the fact you are asking me to go to Canada in the middle of November. No, no problem at all. Seriously though, I'll try and get up there as quickly as I can. We have to look out for each other."
"Thank you," Elisa said, "I'll call you if something changes and please let me know how everything works out."
"I will and talk to you later," Clicking the phone shut I realized if I was going to be heading to Vancouver I needed to see about getting a passport. That should be no end of fun. I'd have to see if Tiffany wanted to come along, maybe we could make a long weekend of it.
Heading into the restaurant, I grabbed my jacket as the weather was cold and cloudy and it looked like it wanted to rain. It was the lunch rush so it took a few minutes to get my salad. Grabbing a glass of raspberry tea, I spotted the only open table and quickly made my way over. It was against the front window so I could people watch as I ate. I didn't have anything else planned for today so I was in no hurry.
Looking out the window, I watched as the drops began slowly and quickly built up to a steady downpour. The air wafting through the front door smelled fresh and clean as I let myself get lost in the sound of the rain. "Hello Sara," the girl said as she slipped into the booth. She looked to be no more than sixteen and was dressed in all black, although her hair was the same shade of blue as mine.
I wasn't expecting anyone so her sudden presence caught me off guard. From the blue, however, I had a pretty good idea of who it was. "What the fuck do you want you son of a bitch?" I said barely above a whisper.
"Relax, I'm not Gandalf although I can understand your assumption."
"And why exactly should I believe you? He isn't exactly known for being a paragon of truth and besides, he's already impersonated me and god knows who else."
"You're right. You have absolutely no reason to believe me when I say I'm not Gandalf. I suppose I could make you believe me, but that defeats the purpose of this visit. I'm Morgana, Gandalf's jailer, and all-around worst nightmare."
If it would be possible for my jaw to detach itself and roll around on the floor, this would have been the opportune time for it to happen. As I looked more intently at the young girl across from me, I came to realize that while her face looked young, her eyes looked to be as ancient as the stars themselves. When I looked at Gandalf all I saw was malicious intent and that simply was not the case with Morgana. "So why are you here?"
"Sentence review actually," she said, the humor in the situation infecting her voice, "Every ten thousand years or so I have to drop by and see how he's doing. Looks to me like he's up to his old tricks and that's not going to go over well for him." For a brief instant, she looked and sounded like every prison warden you have ever seen on television or in the movies.
"Can I ask what it is he did to get sentenced here?" I'd been wondering what he had done to get put here since the day I learned the truth about him.
"Aeons ago he was given the responsibility to oversee the development of an emerging society on the other side of the galaxy," she said her voice coming with the weariness of ancient history, "As a people, we take it upon ourselves to guide and nurture new civilizations as the take their first steps into the stars. The goal is to help them to become productive members of galactic society."
"Sounds noble and exactly the opposite of what Gandalf would do."
"Yeah, we didn't realize that at the time. By the time we got around to checking up on him, my little brother had managed to have the entire planet fuck itself to death. Worst of it is he didn't even seem to realize he had done something wrong. He lacks the inherent sense of right and wrong that civilized cultures take for granted."
"Wait a second, your brother?" I said in complete shock, "Gandalf is your brother?"