The barber shop was the heartbeat of the town, but the town was changing and Harry was too old to play catch-up.
“They got some condos going up on the east side and apartment buildings to the west,” Cornel said. This place will be a regular city before too long. The bank owns half the property here, including yours, am I right?”
“You’re right,” Harry said.
“Well, this place is changing. You can’t fight change.”
Harry cut Cornel’s hair extra fast. 30 years in the trade gave his fingers brains of their own. They usually did the work while he talked to customers, but today, Harry didn’t want to talk to anybody.
His clientele was changing. Now construction workers and land developers and bankers needed haircuts. New people brought new shops and a new economy.
“The old must make way for the new,” Harry said in a trance.
“You’re right about that. Ouch!”
Harry nipped Cornel with his scissors.
“Sorry about that; the haircut is on the house.”
“You really need to retire,” Cornel said and he left.
Harry stared out his window at the sun, wishing it would set in the East and reverse time. He swept up Cornel’s hair into a bag and took it home. It was a small house with a large acreage, perfect for apartment dwellings. The deer were always trying to eat his lawn, but he had a solution for that. He scattered human hair around the perimeter and it scared them off. There was an eviction notice tacked to his door.
Be Out in 48 Hours or Be Forcibly Removed
The road would have to be his address until he reached his final destination. A camper was attached to the bed of his old pickup truck. It’s funny how people are always trying to stay in one place, when the in-between places offer so much more freedom, Harry thought.
The next day, he got his cup of coffee and looked out onto the field. Deer were everywhere, eating the grass and poisoning the soil with their droppings. Wind had blown the hair into the trees. It looked like tinsel.
Then he noticed something that made his heart stop; a tree was not where it was supposed to be. He listened to the woods and they sounded like so many conversations he had heard in the barber shop. They were migrating towards the town. Moving slow enough not to be noticed, like shadows shifting at different times of day. They did not want to be developed or changed.