RSS 2.0 FeedRock, Paper, Scissors
“Nice set up.” Jennifer sat down at the table in the makeshift beauty salon. Cheryl had put it together in her parents’ kitchen.
“Thanks. All I have to do now is re-take the exam on perms, and I’ll have my license. Mom thought I’d be a beauty school drop-out for sure! So, Missy Thing, what have you been up to?” Cheryl draped black plastic across Jennifer’s chest with a flourish.
“You know. Work, stuff, the usual.”
“I’ve missed you.” Cheryl stood behind her, mixing the hair bleach.
“I know, sorry. I’ve been so busy. Hey, is this a trash bag?”
“Oh.” She smoothed it over Jennifer’s shoulders. “You can tell?”
“No problem. Just wondered.” Jennifer saw Cheryl’s engagement ring in the big wall mirror. The stone was huge. “What the ─ ” She jumped up, bumped Cheryl’s arm, and jostled the bowl of bleach. “Ow! Ow, my eye!”
Cheryl rushed her to the sink. “Okay, now just let that water run over your eye for a minute. It’s probably just fumes, honey; the bleach didn’t spill. Those fumes are strong, though.”
A few minutes later, Jennifer was settled back into the chair. “I didn’t know he’d get you such a big rock.”
“What? Well, how would you know, silly?”
“I mean, it’s gorgeous. I was so amazed I almost fell out of the chair! Sorry about that. Let me see.” Her lips stretched into a smile.
Cheryl turned her pretty, French-manicured hand this way and that in the ray of sun suffusing her face. Tiny rainbows danced off the stone’s surface. “It’s two carats,” she whispered.
“My lord. Mercy. Well, goose, burst into song over it, why don’t you?”
“What?” Cheryl withdrew her hand.
“Ha, just funning with you. Hey, are you sure it’s real?”
“Is it real? Of course it’s real!” But a small doubt clouded her face.
“Just kidding. Don’t get your tits a-flopping.”
“Jennifer!”
After a long, tense moment, the girls burst into laughter. Then, working silently, Cheryl parted off sections of hair, coated them with thick bleach paste, and rolled them in foil squares. The sunflower clock on the wall tick-tocked, and somewhere outside a dog yapped. After twenty minutes she announced, “There, finally. Your aluminum foil hat is finished! You want some peach tea? I’m sorry I forgot to ask you earlier.”
“That’s okay. And, yes, please.”
Cheryl came back with two tall, icy glasses of tea, and the timer. “Whoopsie, almost forgot to keep track of the time. I can hardly think straight today.” She did a little half twirl, as if she was so joyous she really might start singing and dancing.
Jennifer sat up straighter. “Thanks. Mmm, that’s good. My throat was dry. You know… it would look even better if it was clean.”
“What? I just got them out of the dishwasher.”
“Not the glass. The ring. Goose.” She almost shouted it.
“Jennifer, is something wrong?”
“Oh, no, nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking. You know my cousin, the hairdresser in St. Louis? Well, she cleans her ring every night and, wow, does it sparkle. Guess what she uses?”
“I don’t know. Dish soap?”
“Nope.”
“Toothpaste?”
“Uh-uh. Hair bleach! Here, give it to me.”
“I don’t know, Jen. That sounds awful strong.”
“Nope. It’s the best thing, full of ammonia. It makes a diamond crystal clear.” She jabbed the ice in her glass with her spoon.
“I don’t really feel like cleaning it right now. Thanks for the tip, though.” Cheryl twisted her ring so the stone was on the inside of her hand. The timer’s nick nick nick was in rhythm with the tick tock of the wall clock.
“Listen, I’m not sure how to tell you this. Maybe I shouldn’t. Never mind.” Jennifer rummaged through her purse. “Shoot. Where’s my lip balm? I swear I have total lizard lips. It’s just so dry out.”
“What? Shouldn’t tell me what?” Cheryl stopped moving, shears in one hand, sharpener in the other.
“I heard about your ring, okay? Now, this is just between you and me and the fencepost.”
“You already knew I had it? How?”
“From church. I heard Bernice and them talking. Now, I came over here to help you, but I’ve kind of lost my nerve. I don’t want my name in this mess. No way, no how.”
“What mess? What did they say?”
“They were saying your diamond wasn’t real. They said your “fancy schmancy guy,” that’s what they called him, was all kinds of things, and none of them nice. And that you were a little fool for falling for him.”
“They said that?” Her mouth twisted up, as if she was about to cry.
Jennifer looked her over. “I’m sorry. But you know, sweetie, it really is kind of unbelievably big.”
“Oh, Jen.”
“I know, sweetie. Listen, hair bleach is best for cleaning diamonds, true. But, more important, the chemicals in it will seriously mess up a fake.”
Cheryl twisted the ring around on her finger.
“Don’t you trust him?”
Tick nick nick tock nick
When Jennifer held out her hand, Cheryl dropped the ring into it.
Jennifer put the ring into the bleach bowl. “There. Now leave it until my hair’s done. And then, I’ll shut the church witches’ mouths for you myself. So. Your “fancy shmancy” man. Everett, is it? When did he propose? You never tell me anything anymore, girl!”
“I never see you anymore. Anyway, what I’m going to tell you, nobody knows yet. Promise not to tell?”
“I’m hurt you even asked me that.”
Pink returned to Cheryl’s cheeks. “Well, I’ll just say it. Everett and I have already got that important piece of paper. We’re not engaged. We’re married! He proposed, and then we decided to go ahead and ─ Are you okay?”
The timer dinged.
“Hey, hold your head up so I can get you out of that foil. Come on, time to rinse.”
Ten minutes later, Jennifer was back in her chair, bleached, shampooed, and combed.
“Ooh, that’s a pretty color. It’s called California Blonde. Do you like it?”
“Yeah, sure, it’s fine.” Jennifer’s face was pale next to the bright golden hair.
“Now, how short do you want it? Oh, the ring! Hold on while I rinse it.” Cheryl took the ring out of the bleach bowl, and ran the tap. “Oh, no! Oh, God. Oh my God. Look!” No tiny rainbows danced on the diamond’s surface now. It was gray, dead.
“You probably didn’t rinse it enough.”
“No! Look! It’s not rinsing off at all. It’s ruined! Why did I listen to you? My God!” She sat at the table, buried her face in her hands.
Jennifer was still pale, but her mouth managed a lively twitch at the sides. “Shhh, okay. I know it’s a shock. But this is a good thing, to find this out now.”
“It’s good? What? My gorgeous, beautiful, lovely engagement ring is ruined! What’s good about that?”
“Don’t cry. I know, sweetie. But, it’s much better to find out what he is now.”
“My ring!” She ran from the room, her hand over her mouth.
Jennifer shouted down the hall after her, “Don’t worry. You can get an annulment!”
When Cheryl returned, Jennifer had the engagement ring on. “I was just looking at that cheap stone he passed off on you.” She slipped it off. “This is just terrible.”
Cheryl sat and put her head down on the table. “You know what?” She sounded tired. “Who cares if the diamond isn’t real, right? I mean, I didn’t marry the diamond. I just wish this morning sickness would pass.”
“Morning sickness? Did you just say ‘morning sickness?’”
“Yes, I’m pregnant. We were saving that bit of news for ─ “
“Jesus penis guacamole!” Jennifer knocked her drink off the table and covered her mouth.
Tick tock. Tick tock.
Cheryl cleaned up the broken glass and spilled tea, as if in slow motion. When it was done she said, “What was that you said, Jennifer?”
“I said it’s a crying shame. About your ring.” She was in the chair, looking at her new hair color in the mirror.
“’Jesus. Penis. Guacamole.’ That’s what you said. That’s what Everett always says.”
“Does he? I think I heard it at church. No, not church. What am I thinking? Maybe at the laundromat. Can you cut my hair short on the sides, kind of angled?”
“You didn’t hear it at the laundromat.” Cheryl picked up the scissors. “Everett and I made it up. It was at Casa Pollo. On my birthday, we were drinking margaritas. Nobody else says that.” She picked up her ring, flicked it down on the table, clack.
Gaze met gaze in the mirror. Hard, wise.
Tick tock, tick tock, went the clock.
The neighbor’s dog barked, breaking the spell.
Cheryl said, “Those people and that dog. They refuse to do a thing about it. Just a trim in the back?”
“Yeah, just shorter on the sides, and those wispy kind of bangs, you know what I mean?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“So, the dog. You’ve talked to them about it?”
“Yep. My mom did twice, and I did once. They say it’s still getting used to being fenced in.” She trimmed the back, held up the bangs, twisted, cut, and let them fall. “How’s that?”
“Nice. So they just let it bark day and night. People are ignorant, aren’t they?”
“Mmm-hmm. How about if I angle it down from here…” She clipped one side, then the other. “Do you like that?”
“Yes, very nice.”
Cheryl stopped to admire her handiwork. She put the scissors in place. “Do you like this?” She clamped them down, hard.
“Sonuvabitch!” Jennifer bolted out of the chair, her hand over her ear, blood seeping between her fingers.
“Whoopsie!” Cheryl helped her up, rushed her over to the sink.
“My ear! Ohhh!! Oh my God, you cut my ear! Ohhh!”
“Don’t cry! Here, hold this towel there. Pinch it tight, that’ll stop the bleeding. Let me see if I can find some of that gauze stuff.” After a few minutes she came back, managed to get Jennifer to stop yelling and splattering blood everywhere, and applied a large amount of gauze and tape. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you really shouldn’t be jumping around where you don’t belong.”
“I didn’t jump until you cut my ear!”
Cheryl had actually cut off a piece of ear. She found it while cleaning the blood off the floor and chair. Maybe they could take it to the hospital and have it stitched back on, like that little kid she’d known who’d gotten his finger cut off. But she changed her mind and pushed the piece of flesh behind her iced tea glass. “Well, sit down here a sec, at least. See if your hair’s straight.”
Their gazes met in the mirror again.
Tick tock.
“Here’s some Tylenol. You want some more tea?”
“No, thanks. I’ve got a ton of errands to run.”
Cheryl handed her a hand mirror. “Now you can see the back. Like it?”
Jennifer craned her neck to see around the big, bandaged clump that was her ear. “It’s nice. Much better.”
“Glad you like it.”
The dog yapped.
“Well. Guess I better run.”
“Okay, then. Give me a call.”
“Will do. Thanks. Bye, now.”
The door shut. Cheryl slumped into her chair. The small, crescent-shaped slice of ear lay on the table before her, gray, dead.