Untitled Fiction – Chapter 2
. . . previous
She peered out from the hair dryer to see what this man was saying standing in the middle of the beauty shop floor. At first, she thought he was one of the religious crazies that would sometimes pop in, spouting dogma she didn’t want to hear. But this time, this man looked different. There was something about him that piqued her interest. Something in his eyes. She closed her magazine and placed it on the table beside her. Then, she lifted the hood of the dryer; an action Black women don’t dare do before the bell rings signaling the 4-hour wait is over.
Going against the hair dryer rules she sat there, hair still damp, wrapped tightly around her head covered by a plastic pink cap and cotton pieces covering one ear to protect it from the dryer heat. She had removed the other piece of cotton while still under the dryer trying to hear what the man was saying. Of course, this man couldn’t be real…
“All I need is one good woman that still has the capacity to trust.”
He can’t be serious? Hell, all I need is one good man. What’s new?
She continued to listen. Suddenly, an uncontrollable feeling rushed through her body and she found herself walking towards this man. The other women’s whispered questions darted the air around her. They were puzzled by what she was doing.
Now what? A woman was actually walking toward him, still draped in the protective cape. Her face was curious, and her step tentative, but she definitely was walking over to him.
“Hello, my name is Sharon.” The hand he took was on its way to shake his and he guided it into his sweating palm.
“Hi, I am William. I have a feeling it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Her smile turned into a grin then a chuckle. Sharon knew she looked a mess, but didn’t care one bit. “How about I come back when you’re done so we can continue this conversation?”
As they stood there, they could feel the eyes trying to pierce the protective covering of this new friendship. William felt his mission had been accomplished; he did what he set out to do. Whatever happens after that, he couldn’t control.
“I’m not sure when I’ll be out of here…but give me your number and I’ll call you when they are finished with me.” Oh hell no. He had been there and done that. “How about we exchange numbers?”