Mexican Kimono (12 page)

‘Oh my God. You’ve obviously smoked too much reefer. Can you fix it?’

‘You said tongs. These are the only tongs mi got.’

Well, I will say I did consider grabbing the cord of the tongs and wrapping them around his skinny neck, but I have more composure than that. I burst into tears, put my orange cap back on and attempted to get the hell out of there.

Isaiah had other ideas. ‘You must pay, mah dear.’

‘Are you insane? I’m not paying you or anyone’s deer! I will not fork out for a hairstyle that so uncool it can’t even be classed as retro!’

‘Argh. You high-maintenance chicks all dah same.’ He began sweeping the floor, so I took that as my cue to leave.

This new disaster meant the curse was gathering momentum. If I didn’t fix it soon, I may never come back from this kind of social collapse. Between you and me, I was freaking out, but in the circumstances it was infinitely better if outwardly I looked serene, well as serene as I could with
crimped hair
! As the magnitude of my problems hit me again, I resisted the urge to call my mother and bawl like a baby. I had to exercise restraint. Who knew … she could be behind the whole thing. I was definitely suspicious.

Chapter 11

Mind Flings

I pulled the cap down and raced back to my apartment building. I ducked into the dry-cleaners and asked Mai Ling if I could borrow her phone.

‘Ten dollar. You borrow.’

‘Oh no, Mai Ling, I don’t need to borrow money! I just need to borrow your phone.’ Really, she was very sweet.

‘Ten dollar. You can use.’

‘Well, of course I could use it, but really I’d feel uncomfortable about it. I would just prefer to quickly use your phone.’ Geez, if this kept up I’d have to take the ten dollars.

‘Ach. Take phone then. I add to your dry-cleaning bill!’

Add what to my dry-cleaning bill? Poor Mai Ling, we were so close yet so far sometimes. I dialled Kylie’s mobile and hoped she was in a better mood than yesterday.

Sixth ring, seventh ring. ‘C’mon Kylie, pick up the phone,’ I mumbled.

‘Mai Ling!’ Kylie’s voice purred through the phone, ‘Tell that son of yours I enjoyed our date last night, he is …’

‘What? It’s not Mai Ling,’ I said.

‘Oh shit, Samantha, why are you calling from Mai Ling’s phone?’

‘Big disaster. My power is off, my mobile is dead and, even worse, my hair is crimped. I’m freaking out here!’

‘Why don’t you have any power?’

‘Hang on. Did you just say you went out with Mai Ling’s son last night?’

Mai Ling was looking at me and gesturing with her hands to hang up the phone.

‘Ah. Umm. It was a total spur of the moment thing and I …’

‘Kylie. For God’s sake. You know he and I had a thing! You can’t go there. Where’s the BFF code of honour here? Far out.’

‘Look, you think you had a thing, but it was one of your “mind flings”. It didn’t actually happen. I’m not breaking the rules.’

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa. A
mind fling
? What the hell are you implying? Can you fix my hair or not? I have a million things to do today. We can discuss Mai Ling’s son some other time.’

‘Do you even know his name, Sam?’

‘His name is Sam? Wow. That never would’ve worked then.’

Kylie sighed all theatrically, ‘I wonder how you’ve made it this far in your life. I can meet you in ten minutes but it will be a rush job, I’m fully booked today.’ I felt like saying she always rushed my hair, always looking to cram us clients in her day like some corporate monster, but I didn’t. I didn’t have many options.

‘OK, see you in ten.’ I passed Mai Ling her phone back and told her to keep her ten dollars. She shook her head at me, all dispirited because I didn’t want her money. Poor woman.

I took the stairs to Kylie’s apartment to be sure no one would see me. No one did stairs in this town anymore. After that whole stair master craze in the nineties, it was only cool when Oprah did it. She’d moved on, so we moved on. They’d been done to death. I exited the stairs just as Kylie walked out of the elevator.

‘Freak me! Why would you let someone do that to you?’ she said. ‘Have you no respect for yourself?’

‘I wasn’t thinking! I was all caught up in this fascinating article about …well it seems stupid now, and he was humming and there was reggae music playing. I thought I was in the Caribbean or something.’

‘Hmm, I think he lulled you into a false sense of security. Did he break out in dance occasionally, too?’

‘Oh my God! Yes. Why, is that bad?’

‘I thought it might be the case. Let me guess, he was American?’

‘No,’ I said.

‘Australian?’

‘No.’

‘Ah, Indian?’

‘No, not Indian. Is this some kind of geography lesson? He was a Rastafarian. He was from the Caribbean, mon.’ I did a good impression of his accent.

‘That was my next guess. Now, I don’t want to alarm you, but he might not have even been qualified! I’ve heard of these places cropping up all over town. They are more into hair as an experience rather than the technical side of it.’ She wiped at her eyes. Hairdressing was a very emotional thing for old Kylie here. ‘Do you know what their attitude is? “It’s only hair!”’

With that, she burst into tears. I worried with all those great big chest heaves she might impale herself with her thinning shears. I’d have to keep a close eye on her. Looks like I got out just in time. ‘I feel like reporting him to the hairdressers’ association or something,’ I said.

Kylie pulled herself together and put her thinning shears away.

I don’t know why she pulled them out in times of stress. She unlocked her apartment and we walked in. Our units were exactly the same design, except hers appeared newer than mine for some reason. It smelled like fresh limes and there wasn’t a piece of furniture out of place, nor an item of clothing on the floor. I know what you’re thinking. OCD. Me too. Someone who is freakishly neat can’t be normal. Just to test the waters, I threw one of her cushions on the floor. She had it back on the lounge before I had time to blink. See? OCD issues.

‘It’s a shame. I liked Isaiah. I think you would have liked him, too,’ I said.

‘Yeah, I bet I would have. It wouldn’t take much to train him up to be a hair specialist, but you know, there are only so many hours in a day. I need to put me first for a change. I can’t save everyone.’ Do you see how selfish she is? It’s not like she has any social life or a love interest or anything.

‘I understand. Now, is the crimp fixable?’

She ran her fingers through my hair. I must admit I much preferred a guy doing it, but beggars can’t be choosers. ‘Of course. I can fix anything. You are seriously going to need some conditioning treatments after all that abuse, though.’

Here we go: the hard sell. It was inbuilt in hairdressers.

I’d need the special blonde conditioner, the toner, the hair masque, and the hair serum.

She began wetting my hair with a spray bottle. ‘Now, your hair’s been through enough today, so instead of shocking it senseless under a full stream of water, we are just slowly getting it used to us. A little spray here, a little spray there.

Shh. There, there. I know. It’s been a bad morning.’ This is how she did it. She spoke to your hair as if it were a real thing, in a soft, soothing mummy voice. I began to fall into a dream-like sequence. JJ and I were sitting side by side in a plush hotel room with hair specialists crooning tenderly to our locks, and once styled we were free to frolic. We held hands and jumped up and down on the king-size bed because it seemed the least grown-up thing we could do. Then we undressed and put our big fluffy robes on and those stupid cardboard slippers they give you. We ordered room service of strawberries and champagne. JJ dipped each strawberry into his glass before feeding it to me, and then he kissed me full on the mouth so he could taste the champagne too. I had become too hot in every sense of the word, so I took my robe off and told JJ to do the same. Then, both naked, we …

‘What
are
you thinking about?’ asked Kylie.

‘Oh, nothing much. Why?’

‘Because you’re sitting there in your bra and you were about to take your jeans off.’

God. How embarrassing. ‘Oh, I just get overheated. It’s a medical condition. Don’t mind me.’

‘Why don’t you just call JJ?’

‘JJ? Haven’t thought about him in aeons. What would I call him for?’

‘Because you were just murmuring his name! It’s kind of weird standing here watching you undress and say your ex-boyfriend’s name repeatedly!’

When she puts it like that, it does sound weird. I put my clothes back on and made a mental note to stop undressing in public. I thought it was just a dream sequence like in the movies. You can’t trust anything these days.

Kylie was slowly sliding the tongs through my hair and from the burning sensation I could feel on my scalp I knew it was going well.

‘Umm, Sam,’ Kylie whispered in a wavering voice.

‘Yes,’ I said, watching the light catch the strands of hair that were fluttering to the floor.

‘We have a problem.’

‘Yeah, I think we’ve established that, Kyls. I’m doing my best here, but these unforseen dilemmas just keep cropping up.’

‘Yes, yes,’ her voice trembled, ‘we’ve got a new, unforseen dilemma. Just hear me out, and don’t panic.’

‘Don’t panic?’ I said, panicking. ‘What now?’

‘Um, your hair is breaking off at the roots!’

‘Oh my God, what?’ I scrambled to the bathroom, with Kylie close at heel.

I looked in the mirror and nearly fainted with shock. My Posh-style bob was gone. It was replaced by black tufts that stood up on end where my hair had snapped clean off. Kylie grabbed me by the waist to steady me, as I let out a scream loud enough to wake the dead.

‘Oh my God, Sam!’ she said, shaking me. ‘Your face is turning blue! Take a breath!’ She shook me more forcefully and said, ‘Sam, you’ll prematurely age if you don’t take a breath!’

I immediately gulped in the bitter air, and continued to scream silently. I was literally frozen in shock. Gazing at my gaping mouth, I watched tears roll down my cheeks. Cheeks that would now look chubby without hair to disguise them.

For the first time ever, I couldn’t think if anything to say, as my sobbing continued unabashed. I touched my once-perfect mane of hair and the remaining pieces of black snapped and tumbled to the floor. ‘How is this even possible?’ I whispered.

‘His tongs must have been too hot, and after the damage from the small hair fire …’ Kylie said, edging me back to the lounge room.

‘No. It’s the curse.’ I said ominously. ‘I just can’t believe this is happening.’ An overwhelming sense of foreboding gripped me. If I could lose my hair, I could lose everything I held dear. Shivering, I sat, staring straight ahead.

‘Don’t go catatonic on me. I can fix this, Sam.’

My sobbing had turned into strange hiccoughing sounds, and I tried to still them as I spoke. ‘How can you fix this, Kylie? You’re a hairdresser! That implies you need hair to dress!’

‘Think pixie haircuts. It’s the latest thing in, er, London.’

‘In London?’

‘Yep, and you know how advanced London is in fashion compared to us here in little old Perth.’

‘Yes, they are a step ahead. But I thought pixie cuts were for waif-like girls?’

‘It’s all about what you project, Sam. You know that. Do you feel waif-like?’

‘Well, I am pretty hungry.’

‘See, you’re already doing it. People will only see what you show them. And right now I’m seeing a pixie, waif-like girl, who is streets ahead of the rest of us fashion-wise.’

I really didn’t have the heart to say I didn’t believe her. Would JJ still love me now that I was practically bald? Everyone would know the curse was working, and stripping me of my beauty, which would appeal to most of my friends.

Kylie seemed satisfied she’d placated me and began chopping off what was left of my hair. With all the stress I must have fallen asleep for a while. When I woke, Kylie was still snipping and murmuring to my follicles. I tried to shake the feeling of gloom that cloaked me. I didn’t want anyone to see me looking glum, because that’s just what they would want to see. I’d have to pretend my new hairstyle was planned, though two radical styles in the same week looked about as contrived as Paris Hilton.

‘When are you planning on looking for work?’ she asked.

‘Wow. Not for a while. I’d be no good to anyone in this condition. I need to recharge, rejuvenate, relin…’

‘Stop!’ she held up her hands like an eighties’ back-up dancer.

I waited for her to break out in song. ‘It’s me you’re talking to, remember? I know your rent’s due in a couple of days and your power has been disconnected. I hate to think of how many credit card payments you owe. You really need to get something organised immediately.’

‘Hello, fun police,’ I felt like saying. ‘No, officer, I wasn’t about to enjoy my day off. Please take away the sunshine while you’re here, too, wouldn’t want something tempting me to smile.’

‘I know all that, Kylie. Sheesh. Surely, something will happen that’ll turn my fortunes around. I can’t sit here worrying all day about it. I’d never get anything done!’

‘You don’t have anything
to
do!’

She’s unbelievable, right? ‘That’s where you are mistaken. I have someone waiting to brunch with me right now. Can I borrow your phone to text her?’

‘No. I’m not going to support your bohemian lifestyle. I heard you were doing interviews for a new BFF yesterday.’ Cue the petulant voice.

I thought back to who I met with yesterday. Who would have spilled the beans? Who would dare put me in this dangerous predicament? Gemma. She of the blue-haired, unwashed tribe.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ Geez, she was onto me. ‘I asked you to meet me at Toff’s yesterday. As usual you were too busy!’

‘It’s fine. At least I know where I stand. You’re all done here,’ she said as she showed me my follicles in a small round mirror. I looked like Bert Newton. Who knew my face was that round? How would I ever be able to walk out in the public eye looking like this?

‘Now, you are going to need the blonde shampoo, the hair masque, the toner and the silk serum. I can give you a discount because I know you’re unemployed.’