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No Good Deed By Lela
There were six of them there to do the good deed. The eldest was Emma, at eighteen. Her hair was blonde, and had recently been bobbed very attractively to the chin. The next was Sara, whose hair was her chief vanity. Unlike Emma, she was drop-dead gorgeous, and her lush brown hair swung past her shoulders. Then came Kris, the “tough” one, with her short cropped jet hair. Kat was the next youngest, with her sweetly shorn brown curls. Next came Catharine, with her hair. Her hair was her pride, as well it may have been, for to tell the truth she was ugly. But her hair was pretty, if only for its length, for its fineness and odd ginger-blonde color did not beggar compliments. But its length was such that she could easily sit on it.
The idea had been Kris’, probably since she had literally nothing to lose. She had found online a site for the charity Locks of Love. Neither she nor her best friends had enough hair to go forth, so they had set up a “hair drive” in their school’s cafeteria. But their school was an affluent one, which suffered from the apathy that affects all affluent schools.
Ironically, those who cared did not have the ten-plus inches of hair to cut, except for Catharine. As you already know, hers was her pride. She had only laughed when her friends suggested it. She would pull it closer to herself, and say no in such a way as you dared not ask her again. But Kris and her friends, Sara, Emma and Kat, had been quite clever, and touched upon a sore spot in Catharine’s heart by putting up posters of the bald young children who would receive the hair.
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On the day of the drive, the four girls sat in the school library, forms and shears ready, although they did not expect anyone to come. It is interesting to note that Sara had gotten in the habit of wearing her hair up, as if she was purposely keeping it from appearing long enough to be cut. They had begun to cut paper dolls out of the forms when a shadow appeared before them. It was Catharine, her hair bound back off her tear-stained face by an elastic. She looked from girl to girl, then spoke hesitantly:
“I’m here for the drive.” Kris grinned and motioned for her to sit down. Almost mechanically, Emma handed her a form and Kat began to comb the ponytail. The comb glided through it. “I already brushed it. Long hair’s so smooth to brush. Cut… cut it slowly, please” Her voice was quick, almost choked up. Carefully, Kris grasped the ponytail and measured it.
“Twenty and a half inches. Ready?” she asked Catharine, who nodded. Kris raised the shears and began to cut above the elastic. Snip! A front portion of the flowing hair swept forth over Catharine’s jaw, settling above her shoulders, framing the left side of her face. Emma let out a shocked gasp. Snip! A veil of the gingery hair now covered Catharine’s left ear, continuing to about two inches off her shoulder. A soft sniffle was heard, and Sara looked up to see tears flowing from Catharine’s eyes. Emma handed her a Kleenex, and she and Kat each took one of Catharine’s hand as snap! The pride was now in Kris’ fist, completely severed from Catharine. “Do you want to see it before we put it in the envelope?”
“Nuh… nuh… no,” stammered Catharine. She absently ran her fingers through the remnants of her hair as the ponytail was put in an envelope. Kat brushed Catharine’s new bob as Emma studied the full effect.
“It actually suits you. It’s got a really nice shape to it.” And it did. “Do you want to see a mirror?”
“All right.” Emma handed it to her, and a slow smile formed over her face. She shook her head, feeling that delicious tickling caress that newly bobbed hair gives your neck. She tossed her hair at the unaccustomed lightness. An impish grin spread over her face. “Sara?”
“How long is your hair?”
“I don’t think that’s a length,” said Emma, laughing. Kris took out the tape measure and pulled Sara’s hair out. “Twelve inch ponytail! Kris, get the shears!”
“No!” said Sara, even more firmly. “I don’t want to cut my hair!”
“Then don’t cut it,” said Catharine, pushing a lock of her bob behind her ears, “donate it.” Sara pondered this for a minute. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she nodded and reached for a form. Kat combed Sara’s hair, and Kris jovially took a few air-snips with the shears, during which Sara visibly shivered. Kris then grasped Sara’s whole ponytail in her fist, and Sara squeezed her eyes tight. SNIP!
“Ah!” screamed Sara as her new short hair fell around her face. “It’s cut!”
“Yes,” laughed Kris, waving the hair, dropping it in Sara’s lap. Kat cackled as she brushed Sara’s new shaggy crop. Emma put it in the envelope with much ceremony. The three friends exchanged a look. Their purpose had been served. Sara studied her reflection.
“You’re even prettier, and we don’t have to be jealous anymore!” cried Emma.
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