Julie stared down at the nearly untouched tray of food before her. Though lavish by prison standards, it left much to be desired. The steak was burned. The French fries were soaked in grease. Even the cheesecake she had requested came from the supermarket freezer and was covered by preserves instead of real strawberries.
“Is there something wrong with your food?” asked Sister Anne. “It’s all right. I’m just not very hungry.”, explained Julie as she retired her fork to the tray in resignation. “I understand.”, counselled the middle- aged nun more as a mother than her spiritual advisor as she put her arm around Julie reassuringly to console her. “I brought something special for you as an after dinner treat if you are ready for it now.” enticed Sister Anne reaching in her pocket. Julie’s interest was raised as were her spirits as she was presented with Sister Anne’s treat. It was an expensive cigar sealed in a glass tube. “I remember you telling me about how much you liked the smell of a good cigar after dinner.” said Sister Anne as she went on to explain how the cigar had been given to Father Christopher by a visiting archbishop from the Dominican Republic. Father Christopher’s love of fine cigars went the way of several of his coronary arteries and he had given his prized cigar to Sister Anne for Julie. “Can I smoke it?”, inquired Julie knowing that smoking was not allowed on the Special Unit. Sister Anne assured Julie the warden himself had given special permission as she assisted her in clipping the end of the cigar with an improvised pair of manicure scissors. Julie passed the cigar beneath her nostrils to savor the bouquet as she had seen Steven do countless times. Putting the cigar to her lips she began cautiously drawing as Sister Anne held the match. The smoke was heavy but flavorful and somehow satisfying. Steven had let her take puffs from time to time, but this was Julie’s first full cigar. “You know they are bad for your health, don’t you?” said Sister Anne as Julie puffed away. The two had a brief laugh which broke the tension if only for a few moments.
The cigar brought back the good times with Steven, the money, the cars, the fabulous meals. Meals truly worthy of being your last sustenance in this life, not like the shabby fare on the tray before her. However, that was a long time ago before what would have been the biggest drug deal they had ever done, the killed narcotics officer, the trial, and all the appeals. Steven was the one who shot the cop, not her. In fact she had never used a gun in her life, let alone kill anybody. This made no difference to the law nor did the fact that Steven had paid with his own life just moments afterwards when the backup officers arrived. Many times Julie wished she had gone down with Steven that day. A policeman’s bullet seemed strangely merciful compared to the 2000 volts of electricity which awaited her in the infamous chair just the other side of large door at the end of the Special Unit.
Julie heard the clanking of the metal doors and the sound of muffled voices coming down the corridor. Frantically, she looked at the clock. It was only 8:30 PM. Julie’s appointment with the executioner was at 10:00 PM. Julie’s heart pounded as the group of four female guards and a nurse arrived at the entrance to her cell. “It isn’t time!”, Julie protested as she forced herself against the walls in the corner of her cell like a cornered animal as the bolt was thrown and the cell door opened. “You still have some time. They’re just going to get you ready.”, explained Sister Anne coaxing Julie from the corner as a guard on each side took her in hand. Thoughts raced through Julie’s mind as they headed toward the green door at the end of the hall. Was this some kind of con or trick? Upon reaching the door to execution chamber they turned and went into a small room off to the left. Seeing what awaited her brought a sense of nausea to Julie’s stomach already unsettled from the unaccustomed cigar earlier.
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It was a small room. In one corner, a showerhead hung from the ceiling over a drain in a depression in the floor. On the other side of the room was an old barber’s chair, the kind with all the porcelain and chrome rarely seen anymore. “I’ll wait with you outside, Sister.” instructed one of the guards as she lead the reluctant nun from the room leaving Julie alone with the three other guards and the nurse.
“Julie, you can make this easy on yourself or we can do it the hard way. It’s your choice.” said the female guard with the stripes on her uniform in a very certain tone. As she spoke, Julie felt the two guards flanking her tightened their grips on her arms as if to sent a message that resistance would be futile. The guards escorted Julie to barber’s chair and seated her while retaining their hold on her arms. “Are you going to behave yourself?”, asked the female sergeant. Julie just nodded yes as tears of fear streamed down her cheeks. The sergeant gave a nod to the other female guards who released Julie’s arms which she reluctantly placed on the cold porcelain arms of the chair. Julie knew about the “last haircut”, she just never thought it would ever happen.
The nurse pushed the large lever on the side of the chair and Julie felt the back of the chair give way. The next thing she knew Julie was looking up at the ceiling with it’s glaring light and peeling paint. Julie was reclined like a man getting a shave, her feet were resting high on the footrest and her head was comfortably resting on the padded headrest. Julie wondered what was going on as she heard the nurse running water in basin behind her followed by a gentle tapping. Then she felt something soft and warm being spread over her calves. The nurse was going to shave her legs. It had been months since Julie’s legs had seen a razor. Julie relaxed a little knowing what was going on as she turned her head to watch the razor being passed back and forth over the strop on the chair which the nurse held taut in one hand with stroking the razor in the other. Noticing what Julie was doing, the nurse glanced over at one of the guards who silently positioned Julie’s head back towards the ceiling with a gently but firm touch. Soon Julie was feeling the keen naked edge of a straight razor going over her calves. The tingling sensation of the hair coming off was actually quite pleasant. Julie had never had her legs shaved for her before and wondered why women didn’t get their legs shaved in salon like men have their faces shaved in a barber shop. She had gotten them waxed one time when Steve and her were flushed after a particularly lucrative drug deal, but that hurt. This was actually pleasant. Julie felt a warm moist towel wiping off her bared calves which were then towel dried. “How could she be finished so quickly?”, Julie asked herself as she was again seated upright in chair.
Julie felt the headrest being removed as one of the guards held up her hair while the nurse draped her with a pin stripped hair cloth, fastening it behind her neck. Julie felt a gently tug as the guard released her hair and it came to rest over her shoulders. With scissors in hand, the nurse paused to look to the sergeant for guidance. Sometimes women would get just the crown of their heads shaved like monk. “All of it.”, responded the sergeant as Julie broke down. The two guards held her as the nurse began methodically shearing away Julie’s hair. Julie would feel a tug, followed by the crunching of the shears, as she saw her chestnut looks being tossed to the floor. Finally the shearing was over and her head felt strangely light. Then a snap and the whirring of the electric clippers reverberated within the bare walls of the room. The nurse steadied Julie’s head and readied to apply the clippers to her head. Then the room light seemed to grow slightly dimmer and sound of the clippers dropped in pitch only to return to normal a few seconds later. Everyone knew the executioner was doing the last minute checks on the chair in the room next door. Even the guards seemed to be unnerved by this event. Julie felt the teeth of the clipper blades being pressed to the back of her neck as she felt a coldness on her scalp in their wake. The hair was now falling down around her. The whine of the clippers was deafening as the nurse clipped away the hair from around her ears. Julie watched her hair falling in front of her tear swollen eyes as the top of her head was shorn bare. After a final once over, the nurse switched off the clippers and brushed away the clippings with a neck duster.
“Julie, I want you to feel your head now.”, instructed the sergeant as she motioned the two other guards to release her captive arms. Julie slowly raised her hand and fell her warm bare scalp now covered only by stubble. “Look around you, Julie. You hair is gone.”, commanded the sergeant as Julie looked upon her locks that now littered the floor. “It’s over Julie. Now sit still and let the nurse finish. The razor is very sharp and we don’t want to cut you.”, explained the sergeant as the nurse proceeded the lather Julie’s head with the cup and brush. The warm lather was actually kind of soothing on her bare head as Julie listened to slaps of the razor against the leather. Julie cringed at the sensation of the razor on her scalp as it scraped away her hair. Out of the corner of her eye she watched the white lather peppered with the remains of her hair accumulate of the towel draped over her shoulder as the nurse would periodically wipe the razor. Soon Julie’s smooth shaven scalp was being rinsed off and dried. The hair cloth was removed and Julie was taken from the barber’s chair.
The guards stripped Julie completely and took her to the shower. The feel of the shower on her shaven head was like nothing else she had ever felt before, frightening, yet sensual. Julie discovered that only two patches had been shaved on her legs, just enough for the electrodes. The shower was timed so there would be just enough time for Julie to get dress before going to the execution chamber. No underwear was allowed. Instead, the nurse secured Julie with an adult diaper beneath a clean prison dress. Barefooted Julie emerged from the preparation room to find the green door already open for her. “They shaved me.”, cried Julie to her friend Sister Anne who could obviously see the bald young woman before her. “I don’t want to go out there bald!” protested Julie as she struggled against the guard. Quickly, Sister Anne took one of the towels from the preparation room and fashioned a makeshift head covering. This seemed to reassured Julie as she was taken into the execution chamber.
The guards were now more for support as Julie’s knees buckled at the sight of the huge wooden chair on the rubber mat with all the straps. Julie was seated in chair and given over to the more experienced male guards be strapped in. The guards who held her for the head shave were now in tears and even the sergeant was noticed to be wiping a small tear from her eyes as she fought back her own emotions. Strapped in securely, Julie felt salt solution being applied to her legs and the sponges of the electrodes against her shaved skin. The warden asked if she had any final words before the head electrode was applied. Julie, paralyzed by the fear of her imminent death, just barely shook her head. Sister Anne stood between Julie and the witnesses to shield her from their peering stares as the towel was removed from her shaven head. The salt solution stung as her head was moistened in preparation for the deadly electrode. Julie felt the sponge pressed against her scalp as the excess salt solution trickled down the sides of her bare head. The leather cap was secured with a strapped below her chin. Another strap sealed her mouth and secured her head to the back of the chair. This was to spare the witnesses of her last scream and seeing in her head thrash around as the current coursed through her body. The last thing Julie saw was the second hand of the clock approaching 10 o’clock as the black hood was draped over her head. “Be with God, Julie.” said Sister Anne was she held Julie’s trembling hand for the last time.
Julie’s entire life passed before her in the last seconds that remained of her life. She thought of Steven and the high times they had in the drug business. “Dear God, ” Julie prayed with all her heart, “I would give it all up for one more chance.” Then she heard a buzzing sound, followed by only darkness.
Julie opened her eyes to see sunlight coming in through the window. She turned and saw the buzzing was coming from the alarm clock on the night stand. It was 10 o’clock in the morning. Julie turned to see Steven still sound asleep in the bed beside her. She saw her auburn tresses dangling just short of her exposed breasts in front of her. Julie looked across the room at the open suitcase of cocaine remembering they were to meet a new buyer at noon that day. It would be their biggest drug deal ever. Julie turned off the alarm before Steven awoke. She walked across the room and looked at the powdery white fortune in the suitcase before her. Julie then looked at Steven. She watched the life she had known swirl in water before her as she commended the contents of the suitcase to the toilet. Julie kissed the sleeping Steven one final time before leaving him and the life she had known behind forever.
Julie entered a contemplative religious order several months later where she took the religious name of Sister Anne. On the day she took this name, she no longer feared the razor which laid her head bare for a much higher purpose. Julie welcomed it. A year later, she received a small package in the mail from Steven. It was a glass tubed cigar, the kind she always loved. Why he sent it she never knew. Julie had no intentions of smoking it and offered it instead to a visiting priest at their monastery. He did not smoke for health reasons, but his superior, the Archbishop, back in the Dominican Republic was most pleased with the gift. Late at night, after her evening prayers, as she waits to fail asleep, Sister Anne oftentimes remembers the dream she had many years ago. The Julie she knew did die that night. This was the only thing Sister Anne knew for certain. As for the rest, only God truly knows.