Judgement for Clare

Story number 1 in the Woodbine series.

 

The town had seen enough.  A long string of stupid assaults on senior citizens all carried out by high school girls that had gone on for the entirety of the summer.  Increased police patrols in the areas frequented by seniors did nothing as the group always seemed to be one step ahead.  Today, however was different.  As the group of teens again pushed the old ladies, some to the ground one of the old girls stuck her cane out causing one of the girls to tumble to the ground.  Quicker than anyone would have believed the old girls moved in to hold her down until the police arrived.

Unfortunately for Clare, her and her best friend were just behind the old folks as the others knocked a couple of the old women down.  She had met a friend to go to the movies, and had come up behind the group of elderly woman walking  on the sidewalk just a block from the cinema.  They were very early for the movie so they weren’t in any rush to go around the old women.  Minutes later they were pushed aside by several girls from their school, who then knocked down several of the old women, their bags spilling out on the ground as the group raced off.  Clare’s friend grabbed her by the arm as she turned to run the other way, but Clare’s first thought was to help the old women up.  As she started to move towards the old women she was knocked to the ground  screaming at her…”We’ve finally caught one of you nasty young punks.  I’ll see to it that you never hit an old lady again.”

Clare sat locked in a room while the proper authorities were called to the station.  Tears continually flowing from her eyes as the gravity of her situation set in…”We were just walking to the movies.” she repeated over and over. It was almost an hour later when the first people came in the room to talk to her.  “Hello Clare, I’m Mrs Marshall from the Juvenile Court and this is Mr Davis from the prosecutors office.”  Clare said hello, then unwisely asked if she could go home.  Mrs Marshall got upset for the first time…”Clare, you have to understand, we are here to determine if you are going to be on trial as an adult or a child.  Clare with the evidence we have against you, it’s just a matter of if you go to Juvenile Hall until you turn 18 or straight to prison.”

Clare lost it.  Crying even harder…”I need my mom.”  Mr Davis handed her a tissue…”Your parents are in the next room.  You can see them right after you give us the names of all your other friends who have been doing this.”  Clare knew most of the girls who were assaulting the old women, she had known for weeks who all was doing it.  Giving up the names was just not something she could do as she would be labeled as a snitch and her school life made a living hell.   She tried to explain that she was not part of the group and those were not her friends, but she was told that it wasn’t going to matter.  Mr Davis, in a somewhat angry tone with her…”Clare, you need to realize that what you did is considered a hate crime, and if you’re convicted as an adult you could go to prison for at least 10 years.”  Clare couldn’t believe what he said…”I keep telling you those weren’t my friends and I didn’t do anything.”

After several days of meetings between the judge, Clare’s parents, and the old ladies involved, the prosecutor decided that Clare would be brought to Family Court as she was just a few month’s past her 16th birthday.  The judge who presided over Family Court was named Martin Chicconetti.  He was considered a fair judge, but when it came to certain crimes he was also known to give out incredibly long sentences.  There was another thing that the judge was known for, and that was creative sentences when it was someones first offense.  He had recently given a 15 year old, who had been caught spray painting the side of a building, the choice of 3 months of juvenile detention, or he could paint all the railings around the courthouse with a toothbrush.  Like all the others who were offered an alternative sentence, they chose to avoid being locked up, and the rails around the courthouse received a new coat of paint.

Clare sat, her parents at her side, in the courtroom as the evidence in the case was presented.  She had maintained her innocence since she had been arrested, but still knew she couldn’t give up the name of the girls involved.So, after an hour of listening to everyone tell the judge about her and what they believed she had done, it was time for the judge to decide her future.  As she stood in front of the judge, her eyes watery, waiting to be set free, he began to speak…”Clare, I believe that you are a good girl, and you were most likely not one of the group that attacked the old ladies before.  We have seen video of you and your friend walking alone together towards the cinema, but the truth is, you were at the scene of the crime, and you refuse to give us any names, so that makes you an accessory to this crime.”  At that point she knew that she would be punished.  The tears now flowed freely down her cheeks because after all this she was still going to lose all of her friends as they would get to graduate and leave for college, something that she was never going to get to experience now.

The judge then started to tell her what her punishment would be…”Clare, due to the nature of this crime you have been sentenced to the state juvenile home until you are 21 years old, after which you will be put on probation until you reach the age of 25.  What that means if you have any more problems, once you have turned 18, you will be sent to prison until your 25th birthday.  Do you understand?”  In reality, Clare couldn’t understand, she was innocent, but now her life would be ruined.  She couldn’t see any way to recover from the devastating sentence the judge just gave to her.

Just as she felt that everything was lost, the judge gave Clare a lifeline…”Clare, only because after discussions with your parents,  the minister at your church and some of your teachers, I really feel you are truly a good person and not the monster that people think you are.”  Clare thought for just one second that there was hope.  The judge then gave her an opportunity that she certainly didn’t expect.  “Clare, I am going to give you very big chance to set things right for yourself.  I have worked it out with the director of the senior citizens home for you to become a resident until your 21st birthday.  Three of the women who were assaulted are retired teachers, and since you have been expelled from your high school they have offered to make sure you graduate on time.”

This was hard for Clare to totally comprehend.  She couldn’t believe that she had been kicked out of school, and even if she hadn’t been found guilty they weren’t going to let her come back.  The judge then continued with his offer…”Clare, you will be roommates with Mrs Betty Winters.  Mrs Winters will decide everything for you from the clothes you wear to the food you eat, understood?”  Clare shook her head yes…”If you don’t do absolutely everything that you are told, or if your school work is anything other than your best work then you will be in violation of the agreement and you will be transferred to the state correctional facility for women until your 25th birthday.  Do you understand this offer?”  Clare meekly responded “Yes sir”

“Well Clare, your parents feel that you are old enough to make this decision yourself, so what will it be?”  Clare looked around the courtroom bewildered.  She had hoped that she was going to get to go home today, but either choice she made would mean she wouldn’t be back at home for at least 4 years, if not longer.  She stared directly at the judge, he voice cracked as she spoke…”Um, Your honor, I don’t want to go to juvenile hall, so I’ll do the other thing.”

“Okay Clare, then you are to report to the retirement home promptly at 8 am, Monday morning.  You are not permitted to have contact with anyone outside of you immediate family from now, until you have completed your sentence, understood?”  This hurt Clare as she promised her life-long best friend, who had been walking with her that day, that she would call her that afternoon, just as she had done every day since they were 10 years old….”Yes, Your Honor, I understand.”

Clare spent the entire weekend with her mom and sister trying to make sure she picked the clothes she thought would be acceptable to Mrs Winters.  Her mother took her out to buy all new bras and bikini panties that she always wore, plus a couple pairs of jeans and a new pair of Nike shoes.  She used her mom’s largest suitcase for the clothes and had put all her grooming supplies (Hair straightener, brush, razors, body wash) and the brand new make-up she had bought into a large backpack.  This plus the new outfit she planned on wearing that day should be almost enough to get her through her time away.

The arrived 15 minutes early on Monday morning.  Clare had already exchanged her tearful goodbyes before they left the house, so it was just her and her mother as the receptionist led the two of them to Mrs Winters apartment.  Mrs Winters greeted Clare’s mother at the door, then looked Clare over…”Well Clare, your new life begins right here, at this door.”  Clare stood at attention, trying to be on her best behavior.  “I see you have some new clothes on, but those will not do.  You can walk into your bedroom and change into your school clothes, and you will keep your hair up in a neatly manner for school.   We have classes starting this morning and I want you ready to go.”

Clare started to pull her suitcase towards her room, but Mrs Winters had other plans…”Clare, those can go back home with your mother.  I have everything you will need to wear.”  Clare walked into her room, only to find a pleated, plaid skirt and matching vest, white button down shirt, plus a pair of ruffled panties and a t-shirt.  Not wanting to start on the wrong foot she started to put it all on, complete with the knee socks and Mary-Jane shoes laid next to the bed. She could never make her hair look right in a ponytail, so she opted to try to put it in 2 pigtails instead. As she started to walk out of the room Mrs Winters told her to put the clothes she was wearing in a bag for her mother to take home as well.

Her mother started to tear up as she saw how young Clare looked in her school girls uniform and pigtails.  It reminded her of when she was just starting school years before.  An agreement had been reached so Clare’s parents would only visit 4 times per year, so this would be the last image of her daughter for the nest 3 months. Mrs Winters, seeing the tears, tried to ease her emotions…”I am going to help Clare become a proper member of society and that begins when they are young girls.”  Clare’s mother was incensed that Mrs Winter’s thought poorly of her daughter, but tried to save face for Clare’s benefit.  “Once she proves she can behave like a young girl can, then I will allow her to become more mature.”

As Clare and her mom started to share goodbyes Mrs Winter walked into the Clare’s bedroom.  She returned with Clare’s phone in her hand…”She won’t be needing this.”  Clare, and even her mother started to complain, but Mrs Winter wasn’t about give in on it…”She can use the phone on the table in the living room for her weekly call home.” Clare was hoping to at least be able to text her friend once and a while to stay in touch, but now that, like everything else, had been taken from her.

Mrs Winters wasted no time once Clare’s mother had left…”Alright, lets go to school.”  She opened the door and directed Clare to follow.  They went down several hallways until they reached a small meeting room.  Inside there was 5 other elderly ladies waiting for them…”Clare, these are your new teachers.” Clare smiled and tried to introduce herself, but the old women were all business.  A large stack of text book was on an adjoining table and one, right after the next, grabbed the book for the class they would be teaching her then started giving her rapid fire instructions on their expectations for her and required reading.   They then began with each doing their daily lessons, with each one giving out, to Clare, what seemed like an impossible amount of homework to do.

Back in her room, Clare has little time to catch her breath as Mrs Winters starts to ask which subject she will start on first.  As she sat at the desk in her room, she kept pushing her pigtails back as they continually fell into her face.  As Clare finished with her first assignment Mrs Winters wasted little time pushing her into the next…”You’ve got a lot to get done, so no wasting time.”  Clare, who wasn’t used to this volume of work, hoped to at least get a drink and maybe a snack before moving on…”Can’t I have a break for a few minutes?”  Mrs Winters was having none of it…”You only have 1 subject done so far, and 4 more to complete so keep going.”

As Clare worked on the next subject, she smelled that Mrs Winters had started cooking so she knew she would, at least have a break soon.  After Clare pushed thru her second subject, she still couldn’t believe the amount of work left to do.  Mrs Winters called her into the dining room and a famished Clare was certainly ready for something good to eat.  She was surprised when she saw what was on the table before her, the blandest looking meal of plain unseasoned chicken breast, some white rice, and bread.  Clare sat down, looking at what was before her, she was hungry enough to want to dig right in, but before she could start Mrs Miller told her to say grace.  Clare didn’t know what to say, having come from a non-religious family, she had never once heard someone say grace before a meal.  Mrs Winters was displeased at this, and told Clare to follow along as she said the prayer…”There’s another thing you’ll need to learn right away, understood?”  Clare nodded as she began to fill her plate.  Mrs Winters made sure to drive her point home…”I want you to be able to say it by breakfast.”  Clare answered her this time…”Yes ma’am.”

The next morning Clare was awakened by the lights in her room being turned on at 6 am…”Come on young lady, you have a lot to get done before you head to school.”  Clare thought about covering her head with her pillow, but didn’t want to cause trouble after only 1 day.  As she made her way to the bathroom she saw that the water was running in the bathtub.  Just after she had flushed the toilet the door swung open…”Where’s your robe?  You should have brought it in with you.”  Clare, still only semi awake, stood there not knowing what Mrs Winters was going on about.  When she came back in the room with a robe, she was not happy…”Why do you still have your nightshirt on?”  Mrs Winters hung the robe on the back of the door and turned back to Clare.  Pulling up on her nightshirt, Mr Winters again questioned what Clare was doing…”You should be in the tub already.  We don’t have all day.”  Clare looked at the tub, she hadn’t taken a bath in almost 8 years…”I’d rather just shower if that’s okay.”  Mrs Winter was growing impatient…”If I wanted you to take showers then I would not have run you a bath, would I?  After today I expect that you will fill the tub yourself, understood?”  Clare was not happy, but answered…”Yes, ma’am.”

Mrs Winters stood there until Clare stepped into the water.  Looking around Clare did see any body wash, only a bar of soap in its dish.  Not wanting to use soap on her soft skin…”Umm, Do you any body wash I can use?  This soap is to rough on my skin.”  Mrs Winters turned to walk out of the room…”I’ve been using that soap for 40 years and my skin is just fine.  You girls all think because some celebrity uses something that makes it better. You certainly have a lot to learn yet.   Breakfast is in 30 minutes, you will be dressed and ready, understood?”  Clare reached for the bar of soap, still not wanting to use it…”Yes, ma’am”

As Clare sat down at the breakfast table she saw a bowl of oatmeal waiting for her…”Um’mm, I don’t really like oatmeal, so can I just have some toast please?”  Mrs Winters set a spoon down next to the bowl…:”You need more than toast to get you thru the day.  You could barely stay awake to finish your homework last night.  This will give you plenty of reserve.”  As Mrs Winters turned back with her own bowl she saw that Clare had not had much success putting her hair up where she was told it was to be for school…”You really can’t take care of yourself young lady, can you?  Just look at that hair.”  Clare, without even knowing it, lifted her hand to her hair.  She had never been one to put her hair in anything but a basic ponytail when playing sports.  Mrs Winters then said what Clare was afraid she might…”I saw how it kept getting in your way while you studied, so I guess it is probably best if it’s  kept shorter so it’s easier for you to look after.”

“Okay Clare, lets get moving your classes start at 7:30″  Clare grabbed her stack of books and quickly followed behind as Mr Winter headed out of the apartment.  As they waited for the elevator Mrs Winters made Clare almost sick to her stomach…”The Center’s beautician is visiting relatives for the next 2 months so I guess I’ll have to give Mrs Woodbine a call to see if she will take you on.”  Clare knew who she was talking about.  It was a run down looking shop way at the other end of town.  Her mother had talked for years about her mom making her go there with her and how much she hated it.  Clare didn’t think there was any way that the old woman who did her mother’s and even grandmothers hair years ago was still there.  It had to be her daughter, or possibly granddaughter who was running the shop…”That’s not the same lady who used to own the shop is it?”  A smile came over Mrs Winters face…”Oh yes, bless her heart, Alice Woodbine is 82 years old, but she still opens her shop 3 days a week.”  The pit in Clare’s stomach tightened even more.

Clare could hardly concentrate on her work that day and the old ladies that were teaching her weren’t happy about it…”Head down Clare.  I’ve caught you looking off in space 3 times now.”  Shaken from her daydream, all Clare could muter was a meek “Sorry”.  Returning to the apartment for lunch, she sat at the small counter near the kitchen.  Mrs Winters puts her lunch down in front of her.  Clare takes a look at the sandwich and her eyes roll back as she thinks to herself…’Tuna fish on white bread.  Why is all her food so colorless?’  She picks up the sandwich and starts to force herself to eat it.  As she finishes it, she gets up to place her plate in the sink and notices that there is something written on the notepad by the phone.

She stepped closer, almost afraid of reading what was on the pad, then she saw it…Thursday afternoon, 3:30.  She let out an audible gasp.  Just then Mrs Winters came into the room…”I see you’ve been reading my note.”  Clare couldn’t speak as she looked at her, but she knew what the note meant  “Mrs Woodbine said she would be happy to add you as a regular, so I went ahead and scheduled you with her for every 4 weeks.”  Clare mindlessly held onto her pigtail…”The old girl really perked right up when I told her how old you were.  She said she hasn’t had a young girl in her shop in over 20 years.”  The lump in Clare’s throat became bigger as she thought about the old lady cutting her hair.

The return to school that afternoon went terrible, Clare was clearly not focused on her work as she dreaded the loss of her treasured locks, and Mrs Winter was less than pleased when the others told her that afternoon…”The sooner you realize that it’s going to happen the better.  Now go get started on your homework while I make dinner.” Clare sat at the desk in her room and started her work.  It was barely 4:30 when Mrs Winters called her in for dinner…”You finish your meal then off to bed young lady.”  Clare couldn’t believe what the old lady said…But it isn’t even dark outside yet,”  Mrs Winters wasn’t swayed…”Don’t think this means you don’t have to complete your work.  You’ll have to apologize to your teachers tomorrow.  I would expect you to have plenty of extra work that will keep you busy all weekend.”

Clare was in bed before 5:00, laying on her bed, she could help but tear up at the thought of losing her hair.  Falling asleep by 6:00 meant by her morning wake up call she was ready to go.  Even though she had only been there for a few days, she was starting to know her new routine.  Entering the bathroom to take care of her morning business, she started the water for her bath.  Returning from her room with her robe Clare shed her pajama top and bottom then lowered herself into the hot water.  As she started to grab the bar of soap she once hated the door opened and Mrs Winters stuck her head in…”You need to be quick this morning.”  Clare knew that she had plenty of time for a nice bath before her morning oatmeal…”I’ll be out by the time breakfast is ready.”  Then Mrs Winters surprised her…”Just comb your hair straight down today.  No need for doing anything else.”  At first Clare was happy she would have to fight with trying to get her pigtails right, but then she started to wonder why Mrs Winters would let her leave it out.  Dressed in her school uniform, Clare sat at the table and started to eat her morning oatmeal.  Mrs Winters sat across from her with her own bowl and before she started to eat she told Clare what she had already guessed…”I called Mrs Woodbine and she said she could fit you in first thing this morning”  Clare laid her spoon down, her appetite was gone.

Clare felt sick to her stomach on the car ride to the beauty parlor.  She had known about that place for years, but she knew that nobody under 60 ever went there.  Once they arrived, she was in no hurry to get inside…”Come on young lady lets get this over, we still have a full day of school after this, so lets get this over with.”  The last words struck a chord,”Get it over” was exactly how Clare felt it was going to be.  Stepping inside the first thing that hit her was the smell.  50 years of smells attacked her nose as soon as she was inside.  As they got further inside, a frail looking woman stepped out of the back room…”Ah, Mrs Winters so nice to see you again and I see you’ve brought me a new client.  Please have the child come sit in my chair.”  Clare was, at first, frozen with fear over this ancient old woman destroying her hair, so as she wasn’t moving fast enough, Mrs Winters grabbed her by the arm…”Be a good girl young lady, have a seat so Mrs Woodbine can take care of you.”

The old woman slowly pulled the cape around Clare’s head and pulled it tight as she fastened it…”Got to keep those tiny hairs off of you.”  The seat was lowered back towards the sink and as Clare sat in discomfort, the woman soaked her head.  Then the shampoo was applied and Clare noticed how much its flowery smell was just like her grandmother always smelled.  The old woman started to comb Clare’s long hair out, looking to Mrs Winters…”So were you thinking a full treatment, or just a cut?”  Mrs Winters knew Mrs Woodbine was talking about perming Clare’s hair, but she was thinking that Clare wasn’t ready to have such a fancy look just yet…”No, I think this young lady needs to still look like one, so just a simple young girls cut for now.”  Mrs Woodbine didn’t have to ask any further as every young girl who had ever her hair cut short in her shop got the same cut.

Clare looked straight ahead as the old woman started to cut.  Her hands looked shaky as she slowly snipped away at Clare’s locks.  Clare was sure she was going to start balling her eyes out as the scissors did their damage.  Almost in slow-motion Mrs Woodbine would take a small section of hair and without hesitation cut off over a foot of hair.  Clare swallowed hard as she saw that when the cut locks were released they didn’t even cover her ears.  She had expected a shorter cut, but she had never seen her hair this short before.

Mrs Woodbine hummed away as she continued to cut.  It was after about 10 minutes when she turned her attention to Clare’s bangs.  Again treating Clare as if she was just a child, Mrs Woodbine addressed Mrs Winters…”How short would you like me to take her bangs?”  Mrs Winters knew the old woman always cut hair shorter than expected, so she told her…”Whatever you think looks best will be fine.”  As the scissors started to cut her bangs halfway up her forehead, Clare stared in amazement at how she was starting to look.  With the cape on and no make-up Clare swore she was looking at a girl of 11 or 12, not a 16 year old.  Finally,  the old woman was done and Clare watched all he beloved hair fall off the cape and onto the floor, now just something to be put in the trash.  As childish as she thought she looked before, she now looked like she was closer to 8 or 9 years old.

They went thru this same routine for months, Clare would find herself in the old woman’s shop every 4 weeks and had been so broken in by her strict environment that after about 3 weeks she was looking forwards to having her hair tidied up.  Her hair and of course how she dressed had become just a normal part of Claire’s life now.  Slowly drifting away were the old habits such as making sure her makeup was perfect seemed to no longer matter to her anymore.  Even her figure was becoming less about being perfect and was now a little more rounded, definitely not fat, but just more soft and less defined.

As the year passed and Claire was nearing her birthday, Mrs Winters had a surprise for her…”You’re going to be 18 soon, maybe it’s time to let Mrs Woodbine give you a more mature look.”  Clare, by now, had grown to like the simplicity of her haircut.  She often thought to herself that when she went back to her outside life she would keep her hair in a similar length…”But I like how it is now.”  Mrs Winters shook her head…”Maybe you still are too immature, but I still think it’s time for you to look more like an adult.  When I drop you off next week you be sure to tell her that I want you to look more mature, she’ll know just what to do.”  Claire didn’t dare ask what she meant, but she had a bad feeling about what would happen at her next appointment.

That afternoon Mrs Winters gave Mrs Woodbine a call…”Hello Delores, how are you?  I think it’s time for my young Claire to start having a more mature look.  I want her to ask for it, but you know just what I expect.”  Mrs Woodbine had been waiting for the okay to give the young girl one of her ‘Specials’.  She smiled at the thought of having a head of young, thick hair to wind again, as it had been close to 30 years since one of her girls had brought their daughter in for a head of curls.  It was the standard hair-do that all of her regulars had as their basic look.  Then they could come in to have their hair set on rollers whenever they were going out, or just wanted to look their best.

For the next several days Claire would see her face in the mirror and as she combed her hair into perfect position she would sigh as she imagined what was in store for her.  None of the cuts she thought of were any better to her than what she had now, and she wasn’t looking forward to next Thursday.  Thursday afternoon was usually the day she would be dropped of at the Woodbine Beauty Parlor, so she figured she had a day, or two.  Surprisingly her Wednesday afternoon classes ended an hour early.

As she gathered her things to walk back to the apartment, she saw Mrs Winters standing there with her coat on, holding Claire’s coat in her hands…”Okay young lady Mrs Woodbine is waiting for you.”  Claire took her coat, but tried to delay what was about to happen…”Can I take my books to my room and change out of my uniform?”  Mrs Winters had seen this from years of dealing with students for years…”What you have on is fine, and you can catch up on your reading while your under the dryer.”  The thought of having to sit under one of those ancient things did not sit well with her, but Mrs Winters held the door open for her and waited…”We shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

Mrs Winters pulled up to the shop…”Okay Claire, you’re old enough to do this on your own now.  I’ll expect to see a very different young lady walk out of the shop when I pick you up.  Claire wanted to keep the cut she had grown to love, but knew what was expected of her and wasn’t about to upset Mrs Winters over a haircut.  She walked into the shop and was greeted by the old woman, who didn’t let on that she knew what was in store for her…”Hello Claire.  You look lovely in your uniform.  Come have a seat and we can get that cut of yours all cleaned up.”  Claire thought real hard about letting the old lady just tidy up her current style, but figured that Mrs Winters would just bring her back to have it cut into whatever ‘mature look’ she had in her mind.

Claire sat down and the old woman wasted no time putting the heavy vinyl cape around her neck.  When she felt the weight of it pushing down onto her Claire always felt like it locked her in place, now at the will of Mrs Woodbine.  The chair was then leaned back and, as always a vigorous shampoo followed.  Claire was always amazed that for such an old woman her fingers had such strength in them as she scrubbed her head.  The one thing that Claire still hated was that neither Mrs Winter, or Mrs Woodbine ever used conditioner, insisting that the natural oil in her hair was more than enough.  To Claire, her hair looked as good as always after it was washed, but always felt like straw.

Mrs Woodbine, still nor letting on…”Okay Claire, this will only take a few minutes then you’ll be on your way.”  Claire swallowed hard as she sat there knowing what she had to do…

“Mrs Woodbine…”

“Yes dear.  What is it?”

“I,,,,,,,um”

“Do you need something?  A glass of water, perhaps?”

Claire swallowed hard again…

“No, ma’am.  I…”

“Well what is it young lady?  Speak up.”

“I think it’s time I had a more mature hair style.”

She did it, the weight lifted off her shoulders, she waited for the old woman’s response…

“Oh, That’s a big step for you.  Are you sure you don’t want to keep your little girls haircut.  It certainly looks cute on you.”

Claire, of course wanted nothing more than to keep the haircut she had grown so used too, but told her she was ready…

She closed her eyes as she spoke…”I…I’m sure I’m ready to look more mature.”

That was it, she had asked for the new look that Mrs Winters said she needed, and Mrs Woodbine had wanted to give her all along…

“Well then Claire, if you are sure about that then we have quite a busy afternoon ahead of us, don’t we?”

“Yes ma’am, I’m sure that’s what I want.”  This, of course, was a total lie.

Claire had no idea what the old woman was talking about, and then she realized that for the first time the old woman had called her Claire, instead of ‘young lady’….

Mrs Woodbine had a bit of a smile on her face as she began to section off Claire’s hair into smaller sections.  She always loved it years ago when a young girl was brought to her for the first time.  Most of them had no idea what was going to happen beforehand, but everyone of them would leave with a full head of curls.  Several of them became regulars, a few still coming to her to this day.  Already a ‘regular’, now it would be Claire’s turn to take the next step.

Mrs Woodbine rolled over the cart full of various sized rods.  Examining them, she decided that today called for something else…”I think we can use the smaller ones on your healthy hair.  Let me grab a few trays of them from the back.”  As the old woman walks into the back, Claire looks at her sectioned off head…”Why can’t I just leave it how it is?”  She said to herself.  Mrs Woodbine then reappeared from the back…”I haven’t used these tiny rods in ages.  This should be fun.”  Claire thought to herself…”For who?”

Mrs Woodbine handed Claire a box with little papers in it.  Claire, uncertain what they were for started to ask…

“What do I”

“Have one ready for me when I need it.”

Claire held the box as she felt a small section of hair being combed.  As she saw the hand reach over her shoulder she handed her a paper.

“That’s it dear.  Be ready when I need it and this will go much faster.”

She then felt pressure on the top of her head s the rod was rolled tight and fastened against her scalp.  This was repeated time after time until Claire could begin to see a row of tiny rods laying right next to each other down the middle of her head.  She was surprised at how perfectly straight the row was as the old woman continued her work.  The back was next as the row was completed all the way down to her hairline…”We’ll shave your neckline so you don’t have any loose hairs at the bottom.”  Claire didn’t know what she was talking about, but didn’t like the thought of anything being shaved.

The chair was turned as the old woman began to work on the sides.  Claire watch in amazement at the speed of her work as rod after rod was closed tight against her head, everyone laying perfectly in their row.  It took less than 20 minutes for Mrs Woodbine to roll the entire side of Claire’s head.  As the chair was being turned to the other side, she bit her lip knowing that that would be the last time she would see her hair laying straight down on her head.  She realized that she hadn’t wanted to give up her long hair, but had grown to love it short, so maybe she would grow to love this as well.  The thought of ever having long hair again just didn’t seem right to her anymore.

It took another 20 minutes, then Claire stared at the strange face in the mirror.  No hair to cover her face anymore meant she could see her whole face in its natural state.  Surprising to her, she was happy with what she was seeing.  Without any of her expensive face wash or bag full of make-up she thought she never looked better.  She smiled as she looked in the mirror, just as Mrs Woodbine came out of the back room…

“Quite a new look for you, isn’t it Claire?”

“Yes it is.”

Mrs Woodbine opens the perm kit and snips the end off the bottle of waving lotion…

As she begins soaking each rod….

“Well, you’ll soon see the new you.”

The feel of the liquid as each rod had taken all the lotion it could hit Claire first, but it was soon followed by the smell.  It had a slight familiarity to it as the entire shop had slightly the same smell every time she walked thru the door.  Claire then began to wonder if the smell would follow her as well.  Mrs Woodbine then took off the soaked cotton from along her hairline, replacing it with a fresh coil.  She then took Claire by the arm…”Come on Claire, lets put some heat on those rods so your curls will take really strong.”  She led Claire to the dryer chair, sitting her down and lowering the bonnet over her head.  Claire had never seen, or experienced anything like this before.  She sat somewhat nervous as Mrs Woodbine started the dryer, then the hot air enveloped her head, making Claire feel even more unsure about what was happening.

Twenty minutes later Mrs Woodbine turned off the dryer and lifted the bonnet…”There you are Claire you’re all done for now, lets get you rinsed off.  Claire felt as if her head was on fire, so finally getting it rinsed off sounded wonderful to her.  Sitting back in the salon chair, it was lowered back against the sink.  Claire’s neck pressed hard against the sink as the water began to hit her head.  She felt instant relief as the cool water washed over each of the rods, and she became totally relaxed for the first time since she walked thru the door two hours ago.

After the rods were blotted dry again, Claire assumed Mrs Woodbine would start to remove them from her head.  She didn’t know why, but she was kind of getting excited to see the results of all the work that had been done.  What she did not expect was her head to be soaked in another liquid…

“Mrs Woodbine, why do you have to soak my head again?”

“Oh, I know it seems like it’s been hours already, but this is the most important step as it stops the curling process and locks it in place.”

Claire was now beginning to realize just why it was called a permanent, as there was no turning back anymore.

“This one only takes 10 minutes dear.”

She didn’t expect it, but she was taken back to the dryer…

“This is the secret to a really long-lasting perm.  A little heat will open up the fibers so the perm is locked deep into your hair.”

Sitting under the dryer again made Claire think about the whole process.  Thinking of how just a little bottle of liquid could have such a big effect on he appearance for months to come had begun to interest, but no longer scare her.  She was actually looking forward to see her new look, and couldn’t wait to see the results of Mrs Woodbine’s work.

The ten minutes seemed like forever, but Claire was again back in the salon chair with her neck firmly against the sink.  She was smiling as the water rinsed over her scalp, knowing that the end was near.  Finally after several minutes of rinsing, the seat was raised again and Mrs Woodbine was blotting the rods with a fresh towel.

Satisfied that the rods were dry enough the towel was tossed on the counter and she began to remove the rods.  Starting at the back meant Claire still couldn’t see the results, but Mrs Woodbine looked very happy.

“Does it look nice?”

“Oh, yes Claire, these are the most wonderful curls I’ve seen in years.”

Clare was happy with what she had heard.  Even if it looked strange to her, at first, she knew she would grow to love it just like having short hair had.

Claire stared at herself in the mirror as rod after rod was removed and tossed in the sink.  As the sides were started she could start to see how her hair now sat against her head as more and more came into view. Once done with the rear parts , the old woman began to finish the top.  Claire’s eyes grew wide as the tiny curls started to appear all over her head.  This would certainly take some getting used too, but she wasn’t upset about that.  Finally the sides were finished and she saw her whole head was now curls everywhere.

Mrs Woodbine started to fluff up the curls with a pick.  Still lying close to her head, the curls almost appeared to double in thickness as they were worked into position.  Mrs Woodbine then eased her head forward and Claire heard a unfamiliar noise.  She then felt something rubbing up and down her neck, the vibrations soothing as it moved.  Mrs Woodbine, rubbed her neck, and satisfied with her work put the razor down…”A smooth finish is a must.”  Claire knew that the old woman certainly knew what’s best.

The cape was removed, and Claire stood and stared at herself in the mirror.  The image she saw was no longer that of a pretty teen girl, but of a sedate woman, almost homely but still beautiful.  Claire knew that Mrs Winters would certainly be happy, and that made Claire happy too.

Mrs Woodbine moved to the front counter.  Claire followed behind expecting to call Mrs Winters for a ride.

“Okay Claire, that’s $50 for today, unless you wanted to pay some of your balance.”

Claire looked in disbelief.

“I thought Mrs Winters paid for all of this.”

“Claire, Mrs Winters is retired.  She can’t afford to pay for all your trips to the beauty parlor.”

“I, umm, I, uh, I don’t have any money on me.”

Mrs Woodbine’s smile disappeared…

“Young lady, why would you expect to have these services done and not have to pay for them?”

Claire had no money and no source of income.  She figured she would have to contact her parents to cover her gill with Mrs Woodbine.

“Mrs Woodbine, if you can wait for a day, or two I will have my mother bring you the money.”

This didn’t go over too well with the old woman…

“Claire, you’re not a little girl anymore who should have to ask mommy and daddy to pay for everything.”

“If you can’t pay for your service then you can work for them.  Go in the back and grab the broom.  You can start by giving this place a thorough sweeping.”

Claire quickly walked in the back room and found the broom.  She then started to sweep around the salon chairs, her own hair making up most of the little pile.  The rest of the small shop followed and Claire dropped all of the hair clippings and dust into the garbage can.  Mrs Woodbine then came out from the back room with a pale pink garment…

“You can wear this while you are working here.  All of my girls have always worn this uniform.”

Claire took the uniform for her.  Her first thoughts were that by the looks of it, it must be as old as her mother.

“Okay Mrs Woodbine, I’ll wear it when I come back.”

Claire figured she wouldn’t come back until her appointment in 4 weeks.

“Thursday’s and Friday’s from noon to seven.  Saturday’s are 8 to 4.”

Before Claire could respond Mrs Woodbine continued…

“I’ll arrange with Mrs Winters so your school schedule will allow for your working hours.”

Claire walked out the door as Mrs Winters pulled up to the shop.  She hung the uniform in the back seat, then got in the front.

Mrs Winters looked at the uniform before taking in Claire’s new sedate look.

“Well, don’t you look like a proper young woman.  Not a flirty young girl anymore.”

“I think I actually like it.”

“Well, I glad you do because that’s going to be what you have from now on, unless you decide to shave the bottom.”

Claire’s hand went to the bottom of her head.  Running her fingers thru the tiny curls felt lovely to her and couldn’t see any reason that she would want it shorter.

“I see you’re going to start working for her to pay-off some of your bill.”

“Yes, she is going to call you.  She wants me here on Thursday’s and Friday’s from noon to seven and Saturday’s from 8 to 4.”

“Well, we can certainly adjust your classes so you can be here.  You’re so lucky that she will let you work to pay off your debt to her.”

Claire arrived Saturday morning, dressed in her pink uniform, and her hair in a perfect ball of curls.  Mrs Woodbine had made a list of duties for her, from sweeping the floors to rinsing out perm rods when she was done with them.  All of Mrs Woodbine’s clients loved having Claire around to give her a hand.

It was just over 2 months since Claire had started to work there, when Mrs Woodbine decided that Claire could take on more responsibilities.  She began shampooing and rinsing customers, and putting them under the dryers when needed.  Right from the start she liked what she was doing, and had actually asked Mrs Woodbine to give her more things to do.  The other thing she really liked was her hair.  While she used to spend at least an hour making sure her hair was just perfect, her new style was as simple as it could get.  A little spritz of water and a pick meant her hair was going right back where it belonged.

She spent the next two years working in the shop, even forgoing her 2 week break in the summer with her family because she didn’t want to leave Mrs Woodbine during her busy season.  Over time she had been shown how to cut hair, coloring hair, and even giving perms.  When she finished up her high school studies, Mrs Winters and the other teachers gladly reported that she had done excellent work, and she was granted her diploma.  Claire assumed that she would be spending her time doing online college courses until she turned 21 and her sentence was over.

The week after she finished school she was in the car with Mrs Winters, on the way to work with Mrs Woodbine.  To her surprise, she was waiting outside of the beauty parlor when they arrived.

“Stay in the car Claire.  We’re going for a ride.”

Claire had no idea where they were going, but she really didn’t want to go anywhere in her uniform.

They drove over 40 miles into the big city near them.  There, they went to a small government office.  Claire still had no idea why they were there, but as they walked in she saw a sign for the cosmetology licencing board.  She looked at Mrs Winters wondering why they were there…

“Mrs Woodbine is a certified instructor and she feels that you are ready to take the test.”

While every other girl taking the test had the same long shiny hair style, Claire was the one who actually looked like a professional.  Although very nervous at first, she sailed thru both the written exam and gave the volunteer a perfect haircut.  With a perfect score she was granted her license as a cosmetologist.

It was on the ride home that Claire was told about why she was brought there.  Mrs Woodbine had known for many years that she would have to slow down, but loved what she did so much she couldn’t give it totally up.  She had grown to love Claire’s attitude and work ethic so much that she had decide to have Claire take over the shop.

Claire couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  She had never really figured out what she wanted to do when she was out of school but this suddenly made a world of sense to her.  She loved working in the shop and interacting with all the customers, so this was an easy decision to make.

Two weeks later Claire received a letter from the Juvenile Court ordering her to appear the following week.  That day she went before the same judge that sentenced her.  This time, however, things were different…

“Well Claire I am delighted with the progress you have made.  You have exceeded what I expected from you throughout your entire sentence.  I certainly approve of the way you present yourself as a young woman now and with the reports from both Mrs Winters and your teachers, I see no reason for your sentence to continue.  You are free to go back to your parents and resume your life as you desire.

Claire thought about what she was told for only a minute.  She knew that all of her friends had graduated and were off to college, so she wouldn’t see them much anymore.  The beauty parlor was in an area where a lot of snow-birds lived.  That meant in the next few weeks the beauty parlor would start to get a little busy.  She knew there was no way she could leave Mrs Woodbine alone when she needed her most.

“Your Honor, I am going to stay where I am at.  You see this Is my life now and I wouldn’t know how to act around all my old friends anymore.  If that’s okay.”

Mrs Winters was, of course happy with Claire’s choice.  She had gotten used to having a room mate again, plus she had a lot more things she wanted to teach to her.