A Fantasy and all its parts are an original work of fiction by Caitlin Rose. All parts are copyrighted. Any similarities between characters in this story, and real people, is coincidental. This story may be archived at any site that does not charge a fee for access. Please obtain the author’s permission before archiving. This story does not contain sex. It does contain crossdressing. If that offends you, don’t read the story.

 

A Fantasy

by Caitlin Rose

 

Part Four

 

I waited in the playroom while Betty ran to get me the surprise she had promised. I looked down at the gleaming black patent leather Mary Jane style shoes on my feet. I touched one of the stiff, sprayed curls of my updo. I was starting to wonder when Betty would get back to the playroom. I moved from side to side, and as I did, I felt the silky material of my fancy party dress brush against my legs. It was such a smooth feeling. These girl clothes felt so special, so very different from the rough, heavy things that I always thought of as my "regular" clothes.

Soon Betty returned.

"Close your eyes"

Betty stood behind me. I could feel her doing something at the back of my neck.

"OK, you can look now. What do you think?"

I looked down and saw that I was now wearing a pearl necklace. I looked at it.

"Do you like it?"

"Sure, I guess. Thank you."

"Well if you don’t like it…"

"No, it’s fine, it really is. It’s just that.."

"Well, of course they’re not real pearls. I think they’re called ‘faux.’ That’s French for false. I have 3 sets, all the same. I got the first one as a present for my birthday, one was a prize in an essay contest at school, and I found one in my grandmother’s basement, in an old trunk. I figured you could use a necklace to go with those earrings."

I didn’t know what to say to Betty. The necklace bothered me somehow. I know it sounds silly. After all I was enjoying the silky feeling of wearing a party dress, and my hair was swept up into stiff curls. I had polished fingernails and was even wearing lipstick, yet, I didn’t feel right wearing the necklace.

"Betty, aren’t necklaces like this for, you know, for…"

"Don’t be silly, they aren’t just for older girls, we can wear them at our age if we want to."

With that, Betty reached into the collar of her dress and pulled out an identical strand of pearls.

"See, I’m wearing a necklace too. Come on, I want to show my mother how nice you look. I’m going to ask her to buy me a set of pearl stud earrings too, just like yours."

I followed Betty up from the playroom to the kitchen. Her mother and Mom were there, talking.

"Mother, look what I gave Robbie. Doesn’t it look elegant with his earrings?"

"The necklace certainly adds something to Robbie’s outfit. It was generous of you to give it to him."

"Mother, do you think I could get a set of earrings like Robbie’s?"

Mrs. Thomas answered with a slight laugh in her voice.

`"Oh, so that’s it. I figured you had something in mind. Well, young lady, at least you’re asking for something tasteful. I think it’s something we can consider."

"Oh Mommy, Thank you."

Betty hugged her mother.

"You’re welcome dear. Would you two like to join us for a while. We were just talking about the salon. It looks like the deal is just about final now."

"That’s so exciting. I bet you can’t wait. Are you going to change the name?"

"That is just what we were talking about. The place is called Carol’s now, but after we buy it, there won’t be anyone named Carol associated with it at all. It seems almost silly to keep the name."

"But we want to keep the old customers, the ones who’ve been getting their hair and nails done there for years. Carol says she doesn’t mind if we keep her name on the sign." Added my mom.

"When are you actually going to start running the place?"

"If all goes as planned, Ruth Thomas and June Balter will be in the salon business together by the beginning of August. That’s only about two weeks from now"

"Wow, that’s really soon. I see why you’re so excited about it."

"Yes, we have a ton to do to get ready. Not the least of which is that I have to get some practice in. Ruth, your skills are right up there, but I’m still learning.

"Oh, don’t be so modest. You aced the test at the county office this afternoon, while the kids were having their tea party. They gave you an apprentice’s certificate right then and there."

"Yes, but that was just a test on the book stuff. You know, sanitation and stuff like that."

"Well, if you really want to practice, we have all the equipment here.
I think we have ‘customers’ available as well. I could use a shampoo and set. What about you Robbie and Betty?"

"I’m sure ready. I like this updo, but I’ve had it for a few days already. My head is starting to itch."

"Well, that’s two heads. How about you, Betty?"

"Do I really need a set so soon? These ringlets were set just last night, and the curlers were in until an hour before the party. Can’t I keep this style for a few days? I really like it."

"If you want to keep the curls at their best, you should roll your hair up dry, before you go to sleep. Miss June could do that for you, if you don’t mind sleeping in rollers again."

"Oh I’m pretty used to sleeping in rollers by now."

"Ok Miss Ruth, that’s you’re practice assignment. Two shampoos, two wet-sets, and a dry roll up."

"Robbie would you like to be first?"

"Sure, Mom. I’ll start getting ready by taking the pins out of my hair."

"No Robbie. That’s not how it’s done at a salon, and after all, that’s what I’m practicing for. And, please try calling me ‘Miss June.’ I know it won’t sound right to you, but I have to get used to hearing it.’

"Ok, Ma…Miss June. I’d like a shampoo, conditioning and a roller set, please. And could you try to set it so the curls come out a little less tight? I like my perm, but I want to see if I can get my hair to be a little less curly, just for a few days."

"Oh your curls are so pretty. Are you sure that’s the style you want?"

"Yes, I’m sure. I want to try it that way, at least for a few days."

I was really trying to find out if there was going to be some way I could get my hair to look more normal for a boy, without having to get it cut short. After all, school would be open again in a little over a month, and I sure couldn’t go back wearing an updo. On the other hand, I was really getting to enjoy trying different hairstyles and didn’t want to get anywhere near a barber shop.

While we had been talking, Mrs. Thomas had brought a big box into the kitchen and put it on the table. Mom got a plastic cape out of the box and draped it around me, and tied it in back.

"It would be a pity to get that nice dress wet or messy"

Then she sat me in a chair, stood behind the chair and began to quickly remove the hairpins and bobby pins from my head and drop them on the table in front of me. I was amazed to see how many of them there were. I knew Joyce had used a lot of them at the salon, but it seemed like there were more pins than I remembered. When Mom, that is Miss June, had all the pins out, she began to loosen up my hair with her fingers and a brush.

It really felt weird. It felt like she was pulling a bit as my hair moved, for the first time in days. When she was done brushing, she walked toward the sink, and motioned for me to follow.

"Of course in the salon, I’d be doing this with you sitting down, and leaning back with your head on the edge of a special shampoo sink. Now you have to stand and lean forward."

That’s what I did, and Mom shampooed my hair, rinsed it, blotted it with a towel, put conditioner on it, waited, then rinsed it again. Finally, she wrapped another towel around my head and led me back to the chair.

"Hmm…Soft waves…that means larger rollers. Your hair is just about long enough for the inch and a quarter plastic ones."

Mom looked in the box and got out a bunch of purple plastic rollers, and a box of clips

"Miss June, you might want to use end papers for Robbie’s set. His hair is just about long enough for those rollers, and end papers will help you get smooth wraps."

"Ok Miss Ruth, you’re the teacher. Robbie, will you please hand me one of these when I ask you for it?"

Mom handed me a small package of end papers and began to comb some setting lotion through my hair.

"Miss June, I think this might help you work against the perm, better than setting lotion."

Mrs. Thomas handed Mom a jar of green super-hold setting gel. Mom dug her fingers into it and put a big dollop of it on my hair.

"Ooo, this stuff is sticky. I’ll bet it makes rolling easier, though"

"Yes, it does make hair cling to the rollers better, but wait until you see how springy the set turns out. Every strand just wants to keep its shape."

I just sat there quietly while Mom and Mrs. Thomas talked about how Mom was setting my hair. I could tell that Mom was trying to do a very careful job. She was combing my hair straight away from my head, and holding it pretty tight as she rolled it onto the rollers. By the time she got to the back, my hair was starting to dry. She sprayed a little more setting lotion on it, to wet it, and continued rolling.

Finally, Mom got out two smaller rollers and rolled my bangs on them.

"I rolled your bangs forward, instead of back, like all the other rollers. I think your bangs are long enough to make a nice, graceful C shape, instead of just laying flat against your forehead."

The rollers in my bangs were a little annoying as they hung loosely against my forehead. All the other rollers were pinned tightly to my head, but these two moved every time I moved my head.

"Ma..er…Miss June, the rollers in front feel kinda funny."

"Don’t worry, they’re fine. I think they’ll feel better when I tuck them under the hairnet."

Mom put a pale blue net over my rolled hair. Sure enough, the front rollers felt much better, once they were held firmly under the net. Mom even tucked cotton pads into the net to cover my ears. Betty helped me get under the dryer, which was set up so I could sit right across the table from where Mom was working. By the time I was ready to start drying, Mom was almost finished shampooing Mrs. Thomas at the sink. Betty turned on the dryer and the warm air began to roar. Mom and Mrs. Thomas were only about a yard away, across the table, and I knew they were talking about how Mrs. Thomas wanted her hair done, but I couldn’t hear a thing.

I could see Mrs. Thomas motioning around her head as she spoke to my mother about how she wanted her hair done. I thought she was trying to act like a salon customer might act. My mom held Mrs. Thomas’ hair up at the top of her head. I think she was trying to show her what she planned to do with her hair.

I really wanted to hear what they were saying, but the roar of the dryer was much too loud. I tried to move my head around, to get a little more comfortable, but with the large rollers all over my head, there was very little room to move around under that dryer. I would have to stay just as I was until I was dry. I didn’t have anything to read, but at least I could watch my mom work on Mrs. Thomas.

Mom was setting Mrs. Thomas’ hair in a way I had never seen before. She had put setting lotion on it and combed it all up to the top of Mrs. Thomas’ head and fastened it with a rubber band. Now, Mrs. Thomas had a very tight ponytail at the top of her head. Mom was using her rat-tail comb to divide the ponytail into sections and she was rolling each section on a small roller. All the rollers were in a cluster near the middle of Mrs. Thomas’ head. They were piled one on top of the other, in three layers. They looked kind of funny, but I knew not to laugh.

It didn’t take Mom long to finish the set, and soon she had Betty sitting in front of her at the table. Mom began to gently pick up one of Betty’s long ringlets and slowly brush it with a round brush. Then she wound it up on a pink foam roller and snapped the roller closed. The roller was vertical against Betty’s head, between her right eye and her right ear. Mom put another roller right next the first one and kept working her way around Betty’s head until she was finished. Betty sat very still while Mom was working. I think she was trying to act as grown up as possible.

Once, Betty looked right at me and smiled. I thought she looked so sweet with those pink rollers in her hair! I just couldn’t stop looking at her. I think she noticed how I was staring at her, and she looked down.

When Mom finished with Betty, she came over to me and turned off the dryer. She lifted the hood off my head and untied the hairnet so she could undo one of the rollers and check my hair.

"Not quite dry yet. You’ll have to sit there for another few minutes."

The net went back on, and Mom put the dryer hood back over my head. I knew I was going to be sitting there for about ten or twenty minutes more, before it would be time for my comb out. Betty had gotten a blow dryer from somewhere and was drying her mother’s hair with it. I watched her point the dryer at the cluster of rollers on her mother’s head and move it rhythmically back and forth.

The warm air flowed around my head and face and the hum of the dryer droned in my ears. I could feel the familiar tight feeling of the rollers against my head, as they became fully dry. I thought it was time to get out from under the dryer, but the warm feeling was so pleasant, that I decided I would just remain there until Mom shut the thing off. When she did come over, she just lifted the hood, without shutting off the machine. She motioned for me to move over to a chair by the table, and as I moved, Mrs. Thomas took my place under the chrome hood.

"Time to finish your style, sweetie. Loose, soft, waves it shall be."

Mom gathered a comb, a brush and a can of hairspray. She took her time. She placed her hands on the rollers.

"Ah, nice and cool. I didn’t want to unroll them too soon. The cooling helps lock in the shape of the set."

Mom took out the rollers and began brushing my hair. There wasn’t a mirror on the table, so I didn’t know what my hair would look like when she finished. She worked for about five minutes, brushing, combing, and using a little shot of spray now and then. Finally, she gave my hair an overall spraying and then put the can down and held up a mirror.

"Robbie, you’re done. Here, take a look. What do you think?

I looked at my new hairdo. Well, it wasn’t curly, that was for sure. It was smooth and shiny. My bangs were brushed out, away from my forehead in a loose curve. Only the tips touched my forehead, just above my eyebrows. All my hair was brushed back, but not like a boy would brush his hair back. Mine was set, brushed and sprayed into a series of soft waves that moved as I shook my head, then fell right back into place. My new hairdo seemed to go well with my dress, my earrings and even with my new necklace.

What could I say? Mom had worked hard on this style, and I could tell she was proud of it. The only problem was, it was just as girly looking as the updo it had replaced. Maybe it would be possible to style my growing hair to look boyish, but I wasn’t going to find out today. The only word for this style was "pretty," very "pretty."

"Aren’t you going to say anything? What do you think of it?"

"Oh Mom, er Miss June.. I like this style so much. Thank you."

I tossed my head from side to side and watched again how the waves moved and settled back. I was fascinated by how my hair looked slightly different after each head toss, yet it always looked soft and pretty.

"June, you do beautiful work."

I turned to see Mrs. Thomas smiling broadly as she held her hand up, with her fingers forming the circle that showed her approval. Betty had been watching too.

"Robbie, may I touch your hair. It looks so soft and pretty"

I bent forward slightly, and Betty gently touched my hair, then put her face close to my head.

"Robbie, it feels as soft as it looks and it smells so nice too."

As Bettty touched and then sniffed my hair, I could feel a flutter in my chest. What a feeling! I felt warm all over. It felt wonderful to have Betty close to me.

"Ok, you two, move away from my work area. I still have to finish one more style."

Mom went over and checked Mrs. Thomas’ hair.

"Nice and dry."

Back at the table, Mom removed Mrs. Thomas’ rollers very carefully. The stiff curls looked like silk ribbons. I expected Mom to brush through them and loosen the curls, to make them look soft and fluffy. She didn’t do that at all. Instead, she used only her fingers to arrange the curls and pin them in place. She would arrange a curl, pin it, then apply some hairspray. The curls finally formed two levels of shiny loops on the top of Ruth Thomas’ head. They looked almost like the kind of fancy bow people put on a very special Christmas present.

Mom had left some hair out, at the back. Now she looped this hair into three flat curls and pinned them to the back of Mrs. Thomas’ head. She used a lot of spray, too.

"That’s it, I hope it’s what you had in mind."

Mrs. Thomas first picked up the small mirror from the table and checked her new hairdo. Then she took the mirror to the hall. She stood in front of a large mirror and held the small one. She checked the side and back views.

"June, it’s perfect. I love it. Fantastic summer updo! It looks marvelous and it won’t add heat, being so sleek. You really have a flair for this."

"Mommy, you look so beautiful. Miss June really does have a flair for hair. Robbie, what do you think of Miss June’s creation?"

"You look great, Mrs. Thomas. That style makes you look like a magazine picture."

"Thanks kids, what nice compliments on my work, and I think you’ve named our new salon. How about we call it ‘A Flair For Hair’?"

We left the Thomas’ house about 15 minutes later and drove straight home.

"I can’t wait to get home. It has been one busy day for me. Besides, I’ve had this updo as long as you had yours. My scalp is starting to itch too. I want to take a shower, wash my hair and get some rest. I ‘d like to set my hair too, but I’m so tired. I may just skip it."

"Mom, maybe I could help you. I think I could roll your hair for you, if you want."

"Robbie, what a nice offer. OK. While I shower, you change out of that party dress into something more comfortable, then you can roll me up. Be sure to put that necklace away carefully. It was so sweet of Betty to give it to you. I hope you thanked her."

"I said ‘Thank you.’ But I’m not sure I really meant it."

"What do you mean, it’s a lovely necklace, and a perfect match for those studs"

"Mom, it’s a girl’s necklace, and I’m not a girl and I don’t want to turn into a girl. "

"Do you really think that a little necklace can turn you into a girl? Are you any different now, from how you were before Betty gave you the necklace?

"No, not really."

"See, you’re still my sweet, refined, delightful child. But you agreed to be a member of a girls club, and you might as well do it right."

Mom pulled the car into our driveway. Before she got out to open the garage, she gently put one hand on each of my cheeks and kissed my forehead.

Mom put the car into the garage, and I went to my room.

I took off my green party dress and hung it on a hanger. It was still clean and neat. I took off my Mary Jane shoes and my socks. The shoes and dress went in my closet. Then, I remembered the necklace. It took me a while to get the clasp open. The necklace felt cool, slippery, and delicate in my hands, and I wondered where to put it. It ended up in my sock drawer, in the corner. I still had my pearl stud earrings in. They had to stay in for 2 more weeks, at least, before I could change them, or even take them out.

I figured this was a good time to use the cleaning solution on my ear lobes, so I did. They didn’t hurt nearly as much as they had the second or third day. I knew they were healing.

I wondered what to wear. I guess I could have put on a tee shirt, jeans and sneakers. But with this hairdo, and the studs, I’d look silly. Besides, it was hot. I put on white shorts, a blue shirt, well, I guess "blouse" is more accurate, and sandals.

I knew where Mom kept her hair stuff, so I got the basket of rollers and clips. I could hear the water running in the shower, then I heard it stop. I knew Mom would be ready for me to roll up her hair very soon. I checked the supplies on the table. Everything seemed ready.

"Robbie, it looks like you didn’t forget anything. I have a style picked out too. I want to try a pageboy. What do you think?"

I knew what a pageboy style looked like. There were several variations in the Hairdo magazine I had. Some pageboy styles had bangs, and some had a part on the side, but all of them were kind of straight, with only the ends curled.

"Mom, I’m not sure I know how to roll up hair for a pageboy. Is there a special trick so that only the ends get curled, and the rest stays straight? "

"Not really, it has a lot to do with how you brush it out, and the size rollers you use.
Use big rollers on top, so that the hair stays straighter, and smaller ones on the sides."

Mom sat down at the table and I began to comb through her wet hair. I had never done a whole set, from start to finish, on any one but myself. I was nervous about getting everything just right. Mom said she wanted a pageboy with a part on the side, and she wanted her bangs swept over to the side too. She said I should do the part now, and work all the rollers from there. She said the style would look a little more formal if I did a "directional set," and that is what she wanted. I had no idea what she was talking about.

Mom coached me along as I rolled her hair. She wanted me to start from the part and do all the rollers in a downward direction. She made sure I used gel on each strand before I rolled it up. As I worked, I got more comfortable. This was actually easier than working on my own hair. My arms were much more comfortable and I could easily see everything I was doing. On one side of the part, I put 3 rows of rollers, two rows of big ones and one row of smaller ones. On the other side of the part, where most of Mom’s hair was, I put in five rows, four rows of big rollers and one row of smaller ones. I was able to fit four rows across the back. Mom kept encouraging me to use as many rollers as possible, with only a little hair on each one.

"You can set a whole head of hair on only a dozen or so rollers, but you end up with so much hair on each, that it takes hours to dry. A little time spent putting in more rollers means a lot less drying time, and the curls are neater too."

I finally finished the roll up. Mom checked front and back with mirrors and checked the rollers with her fingers. She unpinned one roller and rewound it, a bit tighter than I had done it. Mom covered the set with a triangular net and tied it in place.

"Robbie, I’m going to skip the dryer and just go to sleep. I’m exhausted."

"Are you sure? I mean, will you be able to get much rest with the rollers in?"

"I’ve been doing this since I was a teenager. No problem. I have my roller pillow and as tired as I am, I’ll sleep like a baby."

Mom might have been exhausted, but I was hungry. Even though I didn’t really look like one anymore, I guess my body still knew that I was a growing boy.

"Mom, may I make myself a snack before I turn in? I’m too hungry to go to sleep right now."

"Sure dear, take what you want. Just don’t make a mess. I’ll see you in the morning."

I brought the sandwich and lemonade up to my room. It was only 8 o’clock and I still had an hour before my regular bedtime. I pulled out my airplane model, the flying model that was still only half done. The step I was up to, called for "laminating" two fuselage bulkheads. That means that each of these bulkheads is made of 2 layers of Balsa wood, not one. The instructions said that the extra strength came from the crossed grain of the wood. The trick was to line the layers up perfectly, and to keep them that way while the glue dried.

The first "lamination" wasn’t working at all. I couldn’t get the pieces to stay lined up. They kept sliding around. I was about to give up, when I spotted a roller clip on the floor. The little springy clip did the job. It held the pieces nice and firmly. It sure looked funny though. I mean, a couple of months back, I thought things like hair clips were almost too yucky to touch. Now I wear them in my hair and even use them in my "boy" hobby!

The hour flew by. I got ready for bed. I took off my clothes and put on the light little pajamas Mom had bought me. I wasn’t fooling myself. These were girl’s pajamas. But it was a warm night, and they felt so smooth. I took a look at my hair and I remembered how proud Mom had been of her work on it. On went the hairnet, and off to bed.

I awoke to the sweet, warm smell of hot pancakes. I dressed quickly in a yellow top, light green shorts, yellow socks and white sneakers and hurried downstairs. I knew I still had a hair net on, but I didn’t want to take the time to take it off, and fix my hair.

"Good morning Robbie. I hope you slept well. Have some breakfast and then get ready to finish the job you started."

"I’m not planning to finish that plane today. There is still a lot to do, and…"

"No not the plane, this." She patted the rollers on her head. "You did such a great job rolling me up, I want to let you do the comb out, too. That way, the coiff will be all your work, a Mr. Robbie original."

I stiffened a little as she said "Mr. Robbie." It was that thing about actually growing up to be a hairstylist. But I knew better than to say any thing. Especially not now. Those pancakes just smelled too good.

The pancakes tasted as good as they smelled. I had a stack of 4 followed by two more as seconds. Mom ate four and stopped.

"Come on Robbie, dishes in the sink. Run some warm water on them while I get my roller basket and everything else"

I cleared the table and did as Mom had asked. I turned from the sink to see her sitting with her back to the table.

"Ok Robbie, I’m ready to be combed out."

I took the rollers out of Mom’s hair, starting at the top and working down. Rollers come out much easier than they go in. When I was finished, Mom asked me to massage her scalp. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I got the idea after she showed me.

"You must remember how your scalp itches, after sleeping in rollers. A little massage is so pleasant."

I rubbed Mom’s scalp with my fingertips, just the way she showed me. I was careful to be gentle. I didn’t want to spoil any of the curls.

"OK start brushing now. Don’t be afraid to really brush through the curls. A pageboy is more of a big loose curve, than it is a curly hair style."

I tried my best, using a big round brush, and the shape started to form. Mom showed me how to use one hand as a kind of "form" to shape her hair so that it would turn under. I kept going from one side to the other, trying to get both sides to look the same. For some reason, the left side seemed to take the shape better than the right, but eventually, I got them to look the same. Even the back was turned under.

"I think that’s it, Mom. I think this is as close to the picture in the magazine as I’m going to get it to look."

Mom used the "two mirror" trick to check front, sides and back.

"It is as nice a pageboy as I’ve ever had. Thank you Robbie. You did a fine job. Would you please put a little spray on it? Just a little. This style is supposed to bounce and move." I used only a few short shots of spray, mostly near the bottom, where it seemed Mom’s hair didn’t quite want to stay turned under.

Mom checked her hair once more in the mirror and lifted one side with the palm of her hand and let it fall back on her shoulder.

"Robbie, it certainly would be a terrible waste of talent if you didn’t choose hairstyling as a career."

"I don’t know if that’s what I want to be. I think I’d rather have a regular man type job someday. Besides, I don’t think I could ever learn how to do all the different styles."

"Oh you can learn anything you try to. Besides, look at this pretty, symmetrical pageboy you did for me. It certainly doesn’t look like a first attempt. Well, you are kind of young to make such a big decision. Just promise that you’ll think about it."

"Ok. Mom, can I watch TV now?" "Sure. We don’t have anywhere to go until this afternoon.

I got comfortable on the living room floor and began to watch the Saturday morning cartoons. I watched for a while as strange looking aliens chased each other around in space ships, shooting at each other. Even though the battle was supposed to look exciting, I knew that no real spaceship could fly those maneuvers. I got bored with the show and started flipping through the channels. I didn’t find anything interesting.

"Mom, I’m going to take a bike ride."

"OK, be careful of cars."

It was still pretty early in the morning, and the street was mostly empty. The light was red at the intersection with Railroad Avenue. A bee started buzzing around my head. I brushed at it with my hand and touched my head. The hairnet! I almost panicked. What if someone had seen me? What if it was someone I knew? I pulled the net off my head and crunched it up in my hand. I tried to stuff it into my pocket, only to discover that my shorts had no side pockets, just one little one in the back. I stuffed the hairnet as far down into that pocket as I could.

But would it really matter if someone saw my hairnet? Would it be any worse than if they just saw my shorts, my shell top, my pearl earrings, or my light little socks? No, there wasn’t one special thing about me that looked girlish. It was everything. I was even wearing nail polish. The only boyish parts about me, were parts that didn’t show.

The day was warming up quickly. It was going to be a perfect swim day. I turned and rode toward home.

"Hi Mom, any chance of getting to the town pool today?"

"I think it could be arranged, about 2:00 or 3:00 this afternoon. How’s that?"

"I guess it’s OK, but why not earlier?"

"We have some errands to do first, and I want you to come along."

After lunch, Mom gathered up some papers from a drawer and announced that it was time to leave.

"Did you pack your swim bag yet?"

"No."

"Good, I think we should discuss it, before you do."

"What’s to discuss? I’ll just put in my swim suit, a towel, comb. I can change in…"

My own words stopped me short. Change? Where? The men’s bath house? Walk in there, looking like this?

"Can I borrow your nail polish remover again?"

"Sure, it’s in the bathroom"

"See you in five minutes."

I was halfway up the stairs when Mom called out to me.

"Robbie, not so fast. Come back down here. I said we had something to discuss. We’re going to do a couple of errands before we get to the pool. I won’t have you with me if you look like a slob."

"I can’t go to the pool dressed like this. I’ll never get out of the men’s locker room alive, if the attendant even lets me in."

"Oh, I agree with that. You certainly can’t go into the men’s bathhouse as you are. You could remove your nail polish, wet your hair and slick it down, and wear a nice pair of chinos and a sport shirt. Of course, there are two things you’ll have to consider at the pool. Your hair really shouldn’t be exposed to chlorine and sun, so soon after a perm. And you’ll still have to clean your earlobes with the special solution, right after you get out of the pool."

I hadn’t even thought about that. But mom was right. The pamphlet made it seem very important to disinfect my piercings right after swimming. But even without me swabbing them, the studs alone would draw a lot of attention from the other kids in the locker room. And the chlorine part. What would it do to a perm, turn it green or something?

"Well I guess that’s it. No pool for me. Lousy luck!"

"Are you going to give up so easily? It’s going to be very hot this afternoon, and I know how much you like swimming. I may have a solution for you. Here, look at this"

Mom handed me a small, flat paper bag. I had a feeling, I knew what was inside. The bathing suit was made for a girl about my size. It was one piece. It was made of light, thin fabric. It was mostly pink, with a pattern of beach balls and seagulls printed on it.

"Want to try it on?"

"Not really. Is it the only way I’m going to get into the pool today?"

"It’s probably the safest and most pleasant way."

"But I still have to change in the girl’s locker room, and I sure won’t fool anybody in there."

"Oh Robbie." Mom was smiling. "Do you think girls are as uncivilized as boys? The ladies locker room has booths with doors, for changing. We don’t run around nude in one big room, snapping wet towels at each other and hollering like a bunch of animals. Besides, if you sun yourself for just a few minutes after you rinse off in the shower, this suit will probably be dry enough so you can put your clothes on, right over it."

I liked that. Less undressing.

"Can I wear the bathing suit under my clothes, before swimming too?"

"Sure dear, try it on now."

Even better, no undressing in the locker room, at all!

The suit fit fine, after I figured out how to get into it. This bathing suit came up to my chest, and it had shoulder straps. It had something like panties sewn inside it. It pulled my boy parts up tight against my body. I checked myself in the mirror. Wow… I looked like my cousin Jen. Of course she had long hair, but otherwise, I looked almost exactly like she looked, when we went to the pool last summer. My clothes were quite comfortable over the suit. Today, it was important to look just like a girl. After a little gentle brushing and a bit of spray on my hair, I went back downstairs.

"Oh I wanted to see the bathing suit on you. Well, I can wait till later. Did you take the tags off?"

Mom made me drop my pale green shorts and lift my yellow shell. She cut off two store tags, one from the back of the suit and one from the leg hole.

"This suit fits you to a T."

"Thanks, I guess."

Mom handed me a big tote bag.

"Use this as your swim bag today, sweetheart. I’ve loaded it with the stuff you’ll want at the pool."

"This thing is heavy"

The bag had a towel, a white rubber cap with a with a rubber flower attached, my ear lobe solution, cotton balls, suntan oil, shampoo, conditioner, a tube of hair gel, a comb, a brush, and several little decorative hairclips.

"All this, just to go swimming?"

"Just what you’ll need. Before you go into the pool, work a big gob of conditioner through your hair and put on the bathing cap. You can do that in the locker room. Be sure to tuck all your hair under the cap. It will keep out most of the pool water and the conditioner will help protect your hair too. You can shampoo it out before you dry off.

Don’t forget, I want you to keep your hair neat. That includes after swimming. Let’s get going."

Mom drove about a half hour to get o the first stop. We went into place with a sign that said "Joy Ann’s Professional Beauty Supply…Open To The Trade Only" Mom had to show the lady at the counter some kind of paper, before we could go in and shop. The lady gave Mom a small card.

"Next time, just show this, so you won’t have to carry that big certificate with you."

Then she turned to me.

"Sorry sweetheart, you can’t have one just yet. But stick close to your mother, it’s never too early to start learning."

It was a very large store, something like a supermarket. There were aisles filled with shampoo, conditioner, hair spray, coloring, perm solution. There were other areas with scissors, capes, smocks, and stuff I didn’t recognize. There was even an area with wigs. Mom walked up and down the aisles.

"So much to learn!"

I walked with Mom up and down each aisle of the beauty supply store. We didn’t actually buy much. Mom got herself a pink smock, and a package of rat-tail combs. She tried out a few pairs of scissors, but didn’t buy any.

We were almost at the last aisle in the store when we heard some shouting at the front.

"Yes, you are coming into the store, and yes, you will walk with me!"

I saw a boy about my age with a lady who I figured was his mother.

"I want to wait outside. I feel like a sissy even walking in here. I’m afraid the smell will stick to me."

"Don’t be silly. Look at that pretty little girl walking with her mother. Why can’t you walk with me like that?"

"Because I’m a boy, and boys don’t go shopping in THIS store!"

Wow, I thought, that could have been me. If his mother is anything like Mom, he may end up sleeping in rollers tonight.

As he walked past us, he took a yoyo out of his pocket and did a very smooth walk-the-dog.

Mom brought her stuff up to the counter and paid for it.

"Wait a second, I think I have a little present here for your lovely daughter"

She reached into a bowl on the counter and pulled out a little bow attached to a hair clip.

"I think this just matches those nice sporty shorts."

Without another word, she reached over to my head and clipped the bow to my hair. For just a second, I thought about pulling it out, but then I saw Mom’s face. I forced myself to smile.

"Thank you."

Mom put her supplies in the trunk of our car and turned to me.

"Don’t think I didn’t notice how you acted in the store. I’m proud of you. Any mother would be proud to have such a fine child."

"Where are we going now?"

"Well, you’ve made me so proud, I’m going to make a detour and take you right to the pool. You’ll get a longer swim this way."

Mom dropped me off at the pool and went on her way. I took my tote bag and walked up to the locker booth. I knew I needed a girl’s key, but I didn’t dare ask for one. I didn’t say a word. I just put my dollar on the counter like I always did. The lady in the booth barely looked at me. She handed me a key on a pink elastic band. Did it ever feel strange to walk through that door into the women’s changing room. My heart was beating like a hammer. What if I got caught?

I found the locker that matched the number on my key, and opened it up. There were three girls about my age in a corner of the room, whispering to each other and giggling. I tried not to look at them. I undressed down to my bathing suit and put everything in the locker. I took off the hair ribbon. Then I put conditioner in my hair, and put the bathing cap over it. The cap felt tight and warm. I just wanted to get into the pool.

"Hi, I’m Amy. What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before."

I turned from my locker and saw a young girl. She looked Oriental, with long, shiny, straight black hair and a deep suntan.

"Hello. I’m Robbie. I haven’t been swimming much this summer."

"If you don’t mind me asking, what’s with the cap, and the stuff you put in your hair?"

"It’s my mother’s idea. I have a fresh perm, and she says I have to use conditioner and a cap to keep the chlorine water off it. I’m not sure what would happen if I didn’t, but I’m not sure I want to find out."

" I wish I could get a perm. I’ve always wanted curly hair, but my Mother says that straight, shiny hair is part of my heritage, and that I should be proud of it."

"Do you ever curl it with rollers?"

"Yeah, my mother lets me do that. She even helps me. But the curls only last about a day."

Amy and I walked along the pool edge, to the deep end, and jumped in. I swam under water for as far as my breath held out. Finally, I surfaced. I had made it all the way to the shallow part of the pool. I looked around and realized that I was standing about a yard from my cousin Jen!

I recognized her before she spotted me. I was about to turn, and swim away, when I felt her tap me on the shoulder.

"You look so famil….Ahhh"

Her hand went up to her mouth. I wished I was dead.

"Oh my god, you weirdo! I can’t believe it. If you weren’t family I’d scream for the lifeguard and have you arrested, or something worse!"

I felt my stomach turn and I started to shiver.

"You sicko! It just goes on and on with you. I probably should tell all my friends and all of yours, to stay away from you. After all, it may be catching. "

"Come on Jen, it isn’t so bad, I’m just…."

"Just what? Making believe that you’re a girl? Rob, you’re a boy. B-O-Y

Jen was getting a little loud. I was afraid someone would hear.

"Jen can we talk about this someplace else?"

Jen dropped her voice back to a whisper

"Don’t worry. I was just about to leave anyway. But you haven’t heard the last of this."

I saw another girl wave to Jen and swim toward us. I figured I better disappear, so I took a deep breath and surface dove. I swam close to the bottom, back toward the deep end, until my ears hurt and I thought my lungs would explode. When I surfaced and looked around, I could see the backs of Jen and her friend as they walked toward the locker room.

Amy was a few feet away from me.

"Robbie, I saw you come up right next to that girl. Do you know her? She looks a lot like you."

"Yeah, she’s my cousin Jen. Our mothers are twins. We look a lot alike too."

I tried to sound like my conversation with Jen had been no big deal, but I was afraid that it was far from over.

Amy and I swam and talked. She enjoyed swimming to the bottom and then using her legs to rocket herself to the surface. I tried it too, and felt the water rush past my face. Sometimes, when Amy broke the surface, her long black hair would cover her face. She would swing her head around and toss her hair over her shoulder. The drops of water would fly off in all directions. One time, just for an instant, it looked like she was at the center of a little rainbow. I told her about that, and we both laughed.

It was easy to see the big clock on City Hall from the pool, and it was almost 3:30 now. Mom would be in the parking lot in half an hour. I had a lot to do before then. I told Amy that I had to shower and get ready to leave.

I tried to plan out each step. The most important thing was to avoid getting undressed. Shower, shampoo, towel off, then disinfect my ears and fix my hair. After that I could wait outside in the sun. When my bathing suit had dried a little, I would put my shorts and top on, right over it.

Ok, so far, so good. I was up to the "fix my hair" part. I looked in the mirror and saw a bunch of wet, messy curls. I tried combing my hair back, then forward. Nothing looked right. I even tried parting it on the side, almost like my old "boy" style.

"Can’t decide, huh?"

I turned and saw Amy. She’d been watching me. I just shrugged my shoulders.

"Do you have any barrettes or clips in your bag?"

"I think so."

I reached in and found 2 shiny little clips. I took out the tube of gel too.

"Oh, those are perfect! I know just what to do with them"

Amy said that I should put some gel in my hair, just in front. Then she helped me part my hair, just the front, right down the middle. We put one clip on each side of the part.

The front looked very neat and straight while the top and back were all wet curls.

I had seen this style before, on teenage girls. It actually looked pretty grown-up.

"What do you think?"

"Oh, I like it!" I tried to sound like I really meant it. In a way, I really did like it. It looked kind of cute.

We left the bathhouse, returned our keys, and waited in the parking lot. Soon I was dry enough to put my clothes on over my bathing suit. Mom arrived a few minutes later.

"Robbie, I love that style on you. Was it your idea?"

" Not really. I met a girl named Amy at the pool. This style was her idea. I was just going to use a little gel and brush it straight back.

"That would have been OK, for after a swim, but this is really pretty. It sounds like you had a good time."

" Not that good. Jen was there."

Mom frowned a little.

"Did she give you a hard time?"

"She called me a ‘sicko’ and she threatened to tell everyone that I was really a boy, dressed like a girl. She told me that I hadn’t heard the last of it either. I’m kind of scared. What if she really tells some kids from my school?"

Mom looked a little worried.

"I have to go back to school in about a month. If word gets around there, that I wore a girls bathing suit to the town pool, I might as well just jump in front of a bus, before somebody pushes me there."

"I’ll call Aunt May as soon as we get home."

Mom did call her sister, May, as soon as we got home. I heard Mom say that I had met Jen at the pool, and that Jen may have been a bit rude, maybe even threatening. I don’t know what Aunt May said, but they didn’t stay on the phone long. Mom didn’t look too happy when she hung up.

I went back to the pool a few days later, on another hot afternoon. Mom seemed to know that Jen wouldn’t be there this time. I did things pretty much the same as the first time, except this time, I went into one of the changing booths, locked the door and changed out of my wet bathing suit. I put on my pale blue shorts and a white shell top. The panties were much more comfortable than a damp bathing suit.

The next two weeks seemed to fly by. We had a cool, rainy week, but we were so busy getting ready to take over the salon, that no one had time to get bored. Mom and Mrs. Thomas spent hours with paper work in the evening, while Betty and I played or watched TV. Betty wanted to have a Girls Club Picnic before the summer ended, and we talked about that, too.

Mom wanted to practice her hairdressing skills, so Betty and I had new hairdos about every two days! Mom tried every style she could think of on me, or on Betty. Even though my hair was still kind of short, there was no mistaking these for "boy" styles, especially the ones that included what Mom called "accessories" or "decorations."

I began to worry more and more about going back to school.

One day Mom and Mrs. Thomas called Betty and me into the kitchen.

"Kids," Mrs. Thomas said, "The School Board has passed a new regulation. Here, look at the article in the paper"

The article said, that as of September, if parents wanted to, they could transfer their children to a school near where the parents worked, instead of a school near where the family lived. The article said that it would make it easier for some parents to pick up their kids after school, or in case of emergency.

"Robbie, we could use this new rule to change your school. Are you interested?"

I had to think about it. I knew the kids at my old school pretty well. I wouldn’t miss most of them, if I never saw them again. But there were one or two…

"I was looking forward to going to school with Betty again."

She smiled.

"Me too. I mean I was looking forward to being in the same class as Robbie."

"Ruth, it would work for you and Betty too. There is an elementary school just 2 blocks from the salon."

It might make it easier, not being in the old school, where Jen knew all my friends. I
was still afraid that I would have trouble in the new school though. I figured that I would be able to take out the earrings, take off the nail polish, and go back to my old clothes, if Mom let me. But I wasn’t sure I really wanted to.

I was getting used to the light, smooth feeling of the things I had worn all summer.

I wasn’t at all sure I wanted to go back to heavy boy clothes. After all, I could still do all the things I used to do, including work on models and fix my bike. I just wore that coverall when I was going to get dirty.

Besides, I actually liked to see myself with a…well...a pretty hairstyle. I knew that

I would probably have to go back to a regular haircut for school, if I planned to wear my old clothes. Two months ago, a regular haircut would have seemed like a great gift. Now, I wasn’t so sure what I wanted.

"Robbie what do you think? Are you interested in a new school?"

"Oh, sure. Why not? It won’t make a difference anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if I go back looking half boy and half girl, with curls and bangs and all, I’ll probably have a hard time in any school. It just doesn’t seem fair. Now that I’ve gotten to like how I look, I have to change it all again."

"Let’s check it out anyway."

That very afternoon we went to see the new school. I was a little surprised to find that you could actually walk into a school in the summer, but the door was open. Mom hadn’t made a big deal about how I was dressed. I figured she might, being that it was a new school and all, but we just went in what we were wearing. Betty and I were both in shorts. She wore pink ones. Mine were pale orange. I had a matching short sleeve top on. Betty was wearing a pink and white striped top. We both had white socks and clean white sneakers. Betty had her hair in a braided ponytail. Mine was back in tight curls. My bangs were held to the side with a little barrette that matched my outfit.

"Hi. May I help you?"

"We wanted to talk to you about transferring our children to this school. We just bought Carol’s Beauty shop, and we’ll be running it together. We thought it would be, well, safer, if we had our kids in a nearby school"

They talked a while, about our old school, our grades, what class we had been in. The lady at the desk took notes. Mom and Mrs. Thomas each signed a few forms.

"Thank you for your help."

"Oh no. Thank you for bringing your lovely, well behaved children to our school. I hope we see them in September. They will make a fine addition to our student body"

We left.

The next stop was a sign shop. Mrs. Thomas had a sketch with her, of the sign for the salon.

The man looked at the sketch.

"Good, nice idea. ‘A Flair for Hair.’ It has a catchy sound. Easy to remember. They say a good name is half the battle for a beauty salon. Have you measured the front of the store?"

"Yes, Robbie and Betty measured it. The signboard over the door is exactly eight feet long and two feet high. It looks in proportion to the storefront. Could you make this sign the same size?"

"Tell you what, I can do this sign for you in black script, painted on a pink background, for $150."

Mom and Mrs. Thomas picked the exact color pink they wanted for the background and the style of the letters. Mrs. Thomas wanted the sign painter to add a couple of details. By the time we left, the man had done a sketch of the sign with the lettering and a kind of cartoon of a pretty lady with a swirled updo. It wasn’t really a picture or even a cartoon. Just a few lines, but it was unmistakably a lady. Somehow you could even tell that she was wearing lipstick and that she had long eyelashes!

Three days later we were all in a lawyer’s office. Mom and Mrs. Thomas, and Carol, the old owner of the salon, were signing papers.

As we walked back to the car, Mom said that the deal had gone through faster than they thought it would. So in a way, we were a week ahead of schedule, but in another way we were more rushed than ever.

As soon as we left the office, we went to the salon. Carol, the old owner, was there. Betty and I waited while the three women spoke. Finally, Carol hugged each of them and wished them luck. Then she handed them some keys. She seemed a little sad as she took a last look around the place and slowly walked out the door.

"Well, it’s all ours now! I’m sure we can expect a visit from a health inspector, so we have to get this place sparkling clean. We need some rules too."

"Ok Ruth, you’re the one with the experience. Tell us what’s most important."

"A salon is all about appearance. Women will be coming here, for us to improve the way they look. They have to believe that we can do it. We have to look like we can. That means that our own hair and nails have to be carefully groomed any time we are in the shop. For you and me, it means a fresh manicure every few days. Betty is a little too young to need nail polish as a regular thing, but she can wear a light shade if she wants to."

Betty smiled and nodded.

As for hair, again, you and I should have professional looking coifs at all times. Betty, you can wear your hair set, if you want to, or you can choose a nice neat ‘school girl’ look. It has to look neat and well groomed, though.

Robbie, you have the most difficult choice. You could go back to a basic boy’s haircut. I could even do it for you, right here. Or, you could continue to let your hair grow and try a wide range of hairstyles. Some boys and men wear long hair, and there is no reason Robbie can’t be one of them, is there June?"

Mom looked at me and smiled.

"Robbie, it’s your choice"

I gently touched my hair, which Mom had set, the day before, in loose curls.

"Mom, I’ve really gotten to like having some hair to style! I don’t want to have it cut short and then comb it into the same silly wet wave every day. But I’m afraid of what’s going to happen in school. I hate it when someone calls me a sissy. And I’m afraid that some kids won’t stop with just name calling."

Mom sighed

"You don’t have to decide right now. There is still a whole month before school starts"

We worked at the salon nearly every day, cleaning the place and getting it ready. We had covered the windows with white paper, mostly so people on the sidewalk wouldn’t see the way the place looked, while we were working on it. Sometimes though, we left the door open, to let in the fresh air. One day we had a visitor.

The gray-haired lady stuck her head in the door and gave us a huge smile.

"Well, I knew Carol was getting ready to sell the place and move South. I didn’t know that it would be so soon, though. I guess you’re the new owners"

"Yes we are. I’m June Balter and this is Ruth Thomas."

"Well, I’m Doris Lehrer and I’ve been coming here for years. I don’t get my hair done as often as I used to, when I was working, but I still enjoy being pampered now and then."

"We’ll be open a week from Tuesday, we’d appreciate the chance to keep you as a customer."

"A week from Tuesday, oh, that is soon enough. I’m so glad. You see, my daughter is getting married in two weeks, and I was hoping that Carol could do my hair. I’ve tried that other so-called salon in town, and all they want to do is get me to color my hair or blow it dry, with one of horrible things that turn your hair to straw. I want a nice old fashioned roller set, like I used to get. Judging by how you two look, and the curls on your adorable children, I’m sure that I’ll be happy with your work."

Mrs. Thomas "booked" Doris Lehrer for a trim, shampoo and set, for the first Friday after the salon opened. She left, and Mom and Mrs. Thomas hugged each other.

Three days later, the sign arrived, along with a paper banner that read "Grand Opening Tuesday the 15^th."

I counted the days.

"Mom, only 5 days left until the salon is open."

"Yes, and glad to say, the heavy work is done. Now we get to make the place look pretty and cozy."

We added a new coffee pot, and put up lots of pictures. And several times, Betty and I got our hair set. Mom was still practicing. She was getting quicker and quicker at putting rollers into my hair.

I would watch her in the mirror, as she wound each roller smooth and tight, right down to my scalp. I think the some of the rollers were a little tighter than she used to make them, but I knew not to complain. After all, Mom was working on my hair as if I was a grown-up customer. I tried to act like tight rollers were no big deal, but to tell the truth, I really enjoyed the whole business, more each time.

The best part was when Mom finished rolling up my hair and Betty’s and we both got to sit under the dryers, facing each other. Mom made sure to get the hairnets nice and snug, and she put pads over our ears. When she turned on the dryer, the combination of the rushing air and the pads made it impossible to hear anything! It was like I was in a private world of warm air, and sweet smells. Betty and I could see each other and smile back and forth, but we couldn’t hear a thing when we tried to talk.

I got so involved with helping get the salon ready for opening, I almost forgot to keep track of when my earrings could come out. When Mom first made me get them, I almost counted the hours until I could take them out. Now, as I looked in the mirror one morning, the tiny pearls looked natural, like they had always been there.

"Robbie, time for breakfast."

"I’ll be right down."

I took off the hairnet I had slept in. Mom had done my hair in petal curls the day before, and she had used lacquer instead of regular hairspray to finish the style. She said she needed to learn how to use it. Every curl was still perfect. I was happy about that, because my hair was so stiff that I didn’t think I could get a brush through it, if I had to.

I put on a pair of pale blue panties, blue shorts and a light blue, short sleeve, button front top. I wore thin white socks and white sneakers.

"Robbie, you look great! Let me see your hair. Did you have to fix it this morning?"

"No, I didn’t even touch it"

"That lacquer really works. The can says that it can keep a hairdo fresh for days. I wasn’t sure I believed it. I believe it now.

Robbie, look at this. We got a letter from the new school that we visited."

Mom handed me a letter to read.

 

"Dear Mrs. Balter,

I have been processing the papers for your child to enter our school in September. As part of the process, I requested records from you child’s old school. There seems to be an error on the original record, which no one had noticed before. Your child was registered as Robert Balter, and listed as a male. If indeed this is an error, please fill out the enclosed form showing the correct information.

Sincerely,

Margaret McConnell, Principal

Mom held up an official looking form.

"Well Robbie, what shall I write?"

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Caitlin Rose. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.