She cuts

"It's so funny what happens when cowlicks join." The woman was a recent acquaintance, a hair dresser. Pale thought back to the times when she would regularly have her hair, still ink black, cut. The sprite of a woman had the sharpest scissors and the most amazing sense for how to make a cut fit. The Witch missed Masuzu. Never once had her old hair dresser mentioned the cowlicks. Seated on the kitchen stool Pale tuned back into the cowlicks.

"What's funny about cowlicks joining?"

"Double-edged storm fronts. Cowlicks swirl at the base of the hair, at the roots." She gestured making waves in the air with her scissors. "One cowlick goes that way. The other one, in your case goes the other. Sometimes they go in the same direction. But on your head it's the double-edged storms."

"Life was a whole lot easier with hair down to my hips or twisted into a braid. No cowlicks noticeable. Of course, the cowlicks were always there, but lots of hair could be a real asset when you're trying to keep your truth under wraps."

The hair dresser, Jacque, was young, ninety-nine and a single mom with twins. "Living on a small island you have to be very inventive to keep cash and family in good supplies. There's almost nothing I keep secret, and I'll try my hands at most things as long as they don't end up with the 'stinks'. " She was the Winged Clipper, mobile and specialized in styling and caring for folk with chemical sensitivities. "My mom has been sensitive to smells and chemicals since me and my brother were in high school. She's an artist, my mom used to paint with oils until the turpentine really tripped some switches in her. You know that ... Anyway, she'd always cut her own hair after she got really sick. Kept it simple and blunt. But then when the gray starting settling in in a really big way her hair changed. Texture changed."

Pale knew exactly what her mom discovered. The time of the Wild Hares! Without asking Jacque offered, "She doesn't have cowlicks but you know how wavy mom's hair is. Holy crap her hair doubled in size and then." Jacque was an animated creature, hands no where near Pale's head she exaggerated the volume of hair finger-painting the air around her own head. "Then she just wanted to have some fun with it. And. And. She made me an offer I could not turn down. Offered to send me to Barber School. Not 'Beauty School' Barber School for men. I jumped at it, right out of high school. Signed up and haven't looked back since. Well, there were the twins. That took a little time." Jacque laughed. She had an easy laugh and a dimple the size of a small plum in her right cheek. "I learned to be a barber, licensed, and added the styling bit once I had a dozen steady men to round me out. I don't do product and have friends who do the colorist thing. I am strictly the Winged Clipper. I CUT!" It's what her business card said Jacque Bacon, Barber and Stylist "The Winged Clipper. I CUT!" A drawing in silver like Mercury blazed diagonally,  with a dimple and one eye that winked back at you from the corner of the matte black card.

Pale liked this woman. The dimple didn't hurt either.

"How short do you want me to go with this Pale?" This experiment was a re-shaping of what started as a DIY trim that went cock-eyed. One end of the trim had loped way too much off the right side. Maybe that was what created that double-edged storm front.

"It's still winter, so I want some cover. You know not so short that I chill every time I go out the door without a hat. Could you shape it up enough to be fun, but not so short to expose those cowlicks to the wind." The Witch knew instinctively that would be too short.

"Got yah. Three to four inches on top and shorter in the back. If you don't like it this cut's on me."

"No way, my dear. The lopping was my error and besides I've been wanting to go short. So you're doing me a great service and you get to know my hair, cowlicks included. That's a good thing. I love having the young and mercurial on my side." A witch needs allies, and this young woman with scissors could come in very handy. The Elementals, the Atmosphere in particular was making this winter very unpredictable. Skill with scissors would be well worth the thirty dollar investment.

"Deal." The agreement felt good. Jacque Bacon grew up on Salish and knew her client's reputation as witch. It fussed her not to be in Pale's company. In fact, The Border Witch's trust was cool, very cool. The money would make rent for the month and it was only the fifteenth of the month. Her luck was holding, she knocked on the wooden box with the brass handle she used to hold her scissors and combs. Pale noticed.

"How about you step into the shower and wet your hair down, and I'll dry it enough to get to it?" The small room tucked against the old garage had a shower stall and sinks. The heaters on either end warmed the long narrow room into a toasty log. Pale did as directed. Jacque pulled out her cellphone, "Hay, Mom. Just checking in. Yup, I'm at Pale's and she's wetting down before I get to the clip. I'll be another hour and then I can pick up the kids...My next appointment's not under five so we can have dinner before I head out again...Stuffed chicken soup? God that sounds great. Need anything? Avocados, and toilet paper. That's basic, okay see you a bit after two. Thanks Mom ... love you. Pale says hi!"

Pale reached for the towel drawing back the clear plastic shower curtain. The heat lamp positioned strategically outside the stall had warmed the towel. "Ah. That was nice."

"What the shower?"

"That was nice too. But I was talking about checking in with the family. And stuffed chicken soup."

"Yeah, well Mom's such a good egg. We have a great arrangement: she cooks, I wash the dishes and shop." Among other things Pale thought.

When Pale had dried off and had her head wrapped in the yellow towel Jacque enfolded the witch in a bear hug. "That's from Mom." Pale hugged back. "That's from me!"

At the end of the hour a pile of classic salt-and-pepper heavy on the salt covered the small cotton rug. With the two mirrors to view the cut, Pale was well pleased, "It's super natural." The two women laughed, and then roared at the pun that both recognized as a simple ... there was some magic brewed between them. The cut left Pale with just enough hair to keep the cowlicks mild and any residual psychic cords were cut with the skill of those nimble fingers. The witch did her prayers of protection surrounding herself with the silver light. "I love it Jacque, thank you."

"My pleasure Pale," she winked.

"I'll clean up the hair and the rug," Pale said pulling cash from the apron pocket hanging on a hook at the far end of the tiny space. She pulled the fold of bills and put them into a small Ziploc bag. Money stinks. They both knew it, and recognized the irony and the protocol. "A twenty, a ten and a five. A tip for those avocados."

Jacque was at the sink washing her clippers and combs under hot water and a splash of the unscented soap Pale used. A bottle sprayer with the letters H.P. sat on the wooden box. Hydrogen peroxide. "My brand of higher power," Jacque laughed as she finished her cleaning with a good dose of spray. "A Sensitive's Friend! It's nice to have friends in high places. My Mom's brand of humor. Sensitive Schtik. Almost two decades of it, makes sense to be in a business that crossed the borders and comes with a certain kind of class!"