I stared at the HELP WANTED sign that sat in the window of a small building back into town. The sign read "Bunny's Beauty Parlor" I fiddled with the coins in my pocket, although I had a good bulk saved, it wasn't going to be enough to survive for longer than a month. If I was going to keep moving, I needed to start saving up again. Inhaling sharply, I walked through the glass door.
The inside was a rustic orange and yellow theme, with brown paisley patterns on the wallpaper. The smell of processing hair and dye swirled in my nose. My eyes landed on a row of shampoo sinks, and across the space a row of chairs and mirrors were the parlor girls were busy curling, pinning, and spraying. Women sat with curlers in their hair, funky capes draped over their bodies as some read magazines, others tuning into some juicy gossip.
I smiled at the quaint shop, feeling something familiar overwhelm me, thinking back on the times Nana would bring me to the beauty parlor with her to get my hair straightened.
Daddy didn't understand the need for such torture, spending hours on end just for it to frizz up like nothing happened after a few days or so. But Nana often told me it was important to be ladylike and looking beautiful could sometimes help you feel beautiful. I glanced down at my dirty hands, a heaviness sitting in my stomach.
I hadn't felt beautiful in a long while.
I sauntered in further, stopping at the front desk where a woman sat filing her nailbed, not daring look up at me. I recognized her as the woman in the motel my first day arriving, Isis was her name.
"How can I help ya, suga?" She mumbled.
"Hi, I was inquirin' about your sign out front," I began.
Isis finally looked up at me, then, something devilish glossed over her dark eyes. A smirk met her angular lips, sizing me up and down like she had the first time she saw me.
"My, my," she drawled, "Look what the wind blew in." She stood from her seat, walking towards the back, "Misty! Someone is here for you?"
A tall young woman appeared, the tallest woman I've ever seen, her curly dark afro only making her seem amazon like. Her skin was rich and deep, but she wore a friendly smile that made me want to trust her almost immediately. A yellow apron was wrapped around her waist, and she wore a nametag that said "BUNNY".
"My gracious gal, look at this hair," She exclaimed approaching me, her voice was low and had a deep cajun accent. Her long fingers began combing through my frizzy, oily strands, "Lord, we gone hafta condition ya right away! I'm gone squeeze ya in right now!"
A nervous laugh fell from my lips, "I'm actually here about ya Help Wanted sign," I told her.
"Oh," the woman started, "Why ain't ya say so, chile," She held out her hand and gave me a firm shake, wobbling my arm up and down. Her long legs began sauntering around the shop giving me a tour of the place. I quickened my pace to follow her, "My name is Misty but everyone 'round these parts calls me Bunny. This here my parla'. Ya see, I need someone good wit' numba's, help me keep up wit' my books. Someone who can help schedule appointments," She rambled, "Ya good wit' numba's suga?"
My head was spinning. It wasn't until she was looking at me expectantly with those large chocolate eyes of hers that she had asked me a question. I nodded my head, "Yes. I have a teaching degree." I stated.
That caused that pretty smile to widen on Bunny's face, "Oh good, so ya smart. Ya look real smart, I can tell." She walked on, pointing at a few of the ladies in the back, "This Rita, Mary Belle, and Josephine, my stylists. And the nosy redbone gal upfront is Isis, my cousin," She introduced. All the stylist gave me equally warm smiles, and I turned back to where Isis stood near the front, her eyes still looking at me, trying to read me.
"I can only pay about three dollars and hour, but I'll do ya hair for free, whatdoyasay?"
"I knew I recognized you," Isis blurted, walking back towards us, "You staying at the Mayfairs. Bet you in more trouble than you bargained for, huh, gal?"
"Why ya so bitter woman, you been mean since the moment I met you," I griped, rolling my eyes.
"Isis be mindin' everybody business but her own," Rita griped, running a hot comb through an old woman's hair, causing the few ladies in the shop to laugh, "Don't pay her no kinda mind."
"She just mad that Mister Norris dropped her like a bad habit," another woman gossiped, causing a buzz to hum in the shop. I watched as Isis olive face turn beet red and she turn on her heel, out the door. Isis clearly had no problem butting into anyone's business, as long as she wasn't in the hotseat.
I turned back to Bunny with a smile, "I'll take the job."
"Oh great! You can start tomorrow." She told me with a smile. Quickly, though, she ushered me to a chair at one of the shampoo bowls, "But right now we gone do something to that head of yours. We might need two bottles of my special conditioner for this."
---
After about three hours in Bunny's beauty parlor, I had arrived back to the Mayfair Motel. I gave a smile to the lady behind the front desk where Eloise usually sat. All seemed unusually quiet in the motel, staring at the clock on the wall in the lobby. Celia was usually out from school and Eloise would be preparing supper. Pushing the thought to the back of my mind, I sauntered up the stairs of the motel to my room.
A soft melody met my ears as I walked past the second-floor hallway, the faint melody of a piano. A melody that made me feel a rush of emotions. Following the sound, I crept down the hallway to the large double doors at the very end, cracked open with the musky smell of cigarette tobacco wafting from it. To my surprise, I saw the figure of Norris Mayfair, his dark fingers pressing at the keys of a small wooden piano in the living room of what seemed to be the Mayfair family suite.
I knew I shouldn't be invading his privacy like this, but I didn't stop myself as I opened the door more, stepping inside the space as the melody from the piano wash over me. A melancholy harmony ached from the keys, and I couldn't stop the tears that fell from my eyes as I got cleansed with its song, feeling as all my burdens and sins washed off me.
The veins in Norris' arms seemed to bulge as he pressed down on the keys with urgency, as if all of his anguish was being released from his fingertips onto the instrument. After playing a few more heavenly notes, he stopped abruptly. I watched him take the lit cigarette from the ashtray, turning around on the stool he sat in, staring me in the eyes as he placed it to his lips, taking a slow drag.
He knew I was watching.
"I'm sorry to barge in," I told him, not realizing I had been holding my breath, a long exhale fell from my lips. I blinked away my tears, "You play beautifully."
Something in his eyes was different today, not boarded or tense, something soft, even welcoming.
I scanned the place, my eyes bouncing from the couch and small shelf with a radio and record set, to the kitchenette across the space, to the hallway across the room leading to the bedrooms, I presumed.
My eyes then fixed on a large bookshelf in the corner, pictures of Malcom X and Dr. King sat on the shelf, as well as journals, notebooks, and a large cup full of pens and markers. I wasn't fully certain, but somehow everything on that shelf belonged to him, I'm sure of it.
Who are you, Norris Mayfair?
"Ya hair is different," He stated, a chain of smoke falling from his nostrils.
Bunny had conditioned, straightened, and hot curled my hair. It had a lot of body and volume, bouncy even as it sat in waves past my shoulders. Something about him noticing made me antsy, shifting on my feet.
"It looks pretty," Norris told me, putting out his cigarette. I uttered a small thank you. I don't know what it was now, maybe I was still under the trance of the sad song but being around Norris made me nervous.
He stood, walking over to the kitchenette area, pulling out a pitcher, "Ya want some tea?" He asked. I nodded, watching as he prepared two glasses.
"I didn't get to thank you for walking Celia this morning," Norris told me.
"It was really no problem," I told him with a smile, "She's a special little girl."
"Yeah," A chuckle fell from his lips, handing me my glass, "She my world, that girl is something. Her and Ma went into town for a little while, they should be getting back soon."
I nodded, taking sips from my glass. He beckoned me to sit with him at the small dining table in the space, I obliged.
"I think I owe you an apology, Miss Demetria," He started, running a hand over his face, "I don't mean to be so mean. I'm just protective of my family. Ya been through what I been through, ya would be, too."
I thought of my Daddy then, who did everything for me and my Nana, and that same heaviness I felt in the bayou met my chest. My Daddy was my protector and my provider for most of my life. But after he died, I had to fend for myself, look after Nana, and survive under Clay's scrutiny. But now, I was all alone, and the only person I had to protect was myself.
Norris was like Daddy in that way; protective, and stern. It wasn't like he was being mean because he was mean. Just staring at all these books and hearing him play the piano told me there was more to Norris Mayfair than the hardened armor he harbored, there was something to him, just like with my daddy.
"I would like us to start over," Norris suggested, "Ain't no reason for things to be so tense between us. Plus, I see some good in ya. Maybe we could try being friends," I watched him hold out his hand, the hint of a grin on his lips.
Since arriving in Eva, I felt my bad luck lingering over me like a cloud. But Norris, even behind his tough eyes and mysterious ways saw some good in me? Something made me want to believe him, believe that this town actually had the magical spell to wash all my troubles away like I believed.
I don't know if being in Eva would be my rebirth or my downfall. But, as a smile crept onto my lips, I took Norris' hand.
His smile widened, and I felt a flutter of butterflies in my stomach, "I'd like that very much. I see some good in you, too."