A Wife’s Revenge – Raool
Debbie stood in front of the bathroom mirror and smoothed her eyebrows. She ran a brush through her short layered hair and gave it a liberal dousing of White Rain. She recently had cut it short, short like Demi Moore wore in the movie “Ghost”, short at the request of her husband Mike. She turned the bathroom light off and walked into the bedroom. He was in bed reading. She leaned over and kissed him, it was 10:30 and she was leaving for work. She had been on the night shift at the hospital for the last 6 months and it was getting old. She got in her car and drove… around the block. She pulled into Kim’s driveway and as if on command the garage door opened, swallowed her car and closed again. As she got out of her car she was handed a steaming mug of coffee. “Here, you’re gonna need this,” Kim said. “It’s gonna be a long night.” Kim was her best friend. Well actually her second best friend. Her best friend was her next-door neighbor Tracy, but that was about to change, Kim was going to move up.
They sat on the trunk of her car and watched. They drank their coffee, they talked and smoked a few cigarettes. But mostly they watched. She drew deeply on her Marlboro, god it tasted good. Mike hated cigarettes, in fact a few months ago he pretty much had given her an ultimatum. Lose the cigs or lose me. So she quit smoking… kind of.
At 11:45 it happened. Their house was dark, but there was no mistaking the white door opening. A shadowy figure stepped out, turned and locked the door (can’t be too careful nowadays, Deb thought) and scampered to the little yellow house next to theirs. A moments hesitation and the door opened. A stream of bright light spilled onto the stone driveway. In the doorway stood Tracy, her best friend, in a short black teddy. Mike stepped in and the door closed.
Deb turned to Kim, her heart pounding a million times a minute, she felt lightheaded. There had been signs he was cheating, quite obvious ones, but until this moment there was still the slight hope… she would’ve given anything to have been wrong. She began to cry softly, Kim held her. After a moment she pulled back, wiped her eyes and said, “the bitch is mine!”
The travel alarm went off at 7:25. Deb filled her mug with fresh coffee and went back to her perch on the trunk. At 7:30 Mike came out of their house to leave for work. She didn’t know when he’d left Tracy’s house, it didn’t matter. As soon as he drove off she moved the car across the street and parked it in their garage. A couple of minutes later she came out of the house, still dressed in her nurse’s uniform but carrying a small sports bag.
She went directly to Tracy’s, opened the screen door and knocked loudly on the wooden door. She waited a moment and knocked again. A pink curtain was lifted from the small window in the door before it was opened. Tracy wiped the sleep from her eyes and drew the robe tight around her. “Well good morning, sleepyhead,” Deb chirped as she walked into the kitchen with Tracy. She sat at the kitchen table watching Tracy pour them each a cup of coffee. Tracy was adorable: very petite, big blue eyes and silky straight blonde hair that fell a deep 6 inches below her shoulders, almost to her bra strap. Tracy brought the coffee to the table and as she placed the cup in front of her, Deb made her move. She grabbed Tracy’s hand and slapped a pair of handcuffs on her wrist. Taking advantage of Tracy’s grogginess she stood, twisted Tracy’s arm behind her back and cuffed it to her other wrist.
“Hey! What the hell are you doing, Deb?” At this point Deb shoved Tracy onto a kitchen chair and was half pushing, half dragging it to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom she sat on Tracy’s lap. She dug in her sports bag and took out a roll of silver duct tape. She stood Tracy up and pulled the terrycloth robe down around her shoulders. As she had guessed, Tracy was still wearing the silky black teddy. She pulled on the end of the tape until it came free and began wrapping it around Tracy’s chest, arms and back. She made 4 or 5 loops and shoved Tracy back onto the chair. She continued wrapping the tape around her, literally taping her to the chair. She was able to make about 20 loops before she ran out of tape, there was no way Tracy would get loose on her own. Deb had saved one large piece of tape and squished it directly over Tracy’s lips to keep her quiet.
She went into the kitchen and came back in with Tracy’s cigarettes and lighter. She lit one and leaned back on the vanity. “Ok Tracy, here’s the scoop. I know you’re screwing my husband. There’s no denying it: I didn’t go to work last night. I watched you two.” Tracy’s eyes got big, she definitely was wide awake now. “As far as Michael is concerned, you can have the bastard… but as for you, my friend… my BEST friend, well I have something special in store for you.” With this she tossed the cigarette into the toilet and turned to her bag. She stepped behind Tracy, a large nylon bristle brush in her hand. She slowly, gently, began to brush Tracy’s blonde hair. While she brushed she talked, almost as if she was talking to herself. She talked how she’d suspected they’d been having the affair for about 6 months now, how it was odd that Mike had made her quit smoking while Tracy was practically a chain smoker, how funny it was that he wanted Deb to get her hair cut shorter, but Tracy had been growing hers.
“Gee Tracy, you’ve been growing it out for what, about 6 months now?” Deb placed the brush on the counter and reached into her bag. She stood before Tracy with a wide-toothed comb in one hand and a pair of haircutting scissors in the other. Tracy’s eyes looked at her pleadingly. Deb said, “Don’t worry Tracy, all I’m gonna do is give you a little haircut.” She moved to Tracy’s right side. Tracy turned her head to watch, her eyes following the shears. Deb gently turned Tracy’s head to face straight. “Now you hold still and just watch yourself in the mirror. These bangs are way too long, I really need to trim them up a bit.” She combed the bangs straight down onto Tracy’s forehead. They only came to the brow level, Tracy had trimmed them herself just last week. Deb placed the shears about a half inch above the brow and snipped them straight across. Tracy closed her eyes and the soft hairs tumbled over them, down her cheeks, to her lap. Deb stepped back to admire her work. She ran her fingers through the flaxen length. “Hmmmm, now that your bangs are shorter, I think I need to cut the rest too.” She placed the opened shears a few inches from the ends, hesitated, raised them to the shoulders, hesitated again, raised them to the jawline… and slowly, succinctly, closed them. Tracy’s eyebrows raised in horror as she watched 8 inches of blonde silk slide onto, then down her shoulder. The pale gold blonde a contrast to the jet black silk teddy. Deb giggled and with a fluid motion continued to slice away the bulk of Tracy’s hair.
Again Deb admired her work, she had left Tracy with a wonderfully short straight bob. “Y’know Tracy, you really look good in a bob, it suits you. Too bad. I’m taking you even shorter.” She placed the scissors high on Tracy’s forehead and began snipping. When she finished she stepped away and let Tracy look in the mirror. She was left with only a half inch fringe of bangs. Meanwhile Deb had pulled a set of electric clippers from her bag. “Now for the really fun part! This is a, ummmm, number 3 guard, let’s see what it does.” With a loud crack the clippers came to life. Deb stepped behind Tracy and pushed her head down. A tear trickled from Tracy’s eye as Deb placed the vibrating teeth at her nape. They slowly climbed up the back of her neck. As they reached the occipital bone the hum changed, the vibration increased and made Tracy see double. When the clippers reached the crown Deb gave her wrist a flick. A handful of shorn locks plopped into Tracy’s lap. Deb cooed and ran her fingers over the buzzed strip. “Oh Tracy, this is COOL!” She placed the clippers at the nape, next to the first strip and began to shear another. The handful of hair plopped in Tracy’s lap next to the first one. Two more strips and Deb turned the clippers off. She rubbed the palm of her hand over the back of Tracy’s head and giggled. when she ran her hand up Tracy’s head it felt like bristles, but when she went down, it felt like soft fur.
Looking at herself in the mirror, Tracy could see no difference, but her lap was filled with her own shorn locks, she knew the back of her head was bare. Deb turned the clippers on again and moved to the left side. She placed the teeth behind Tracy’s ear and combed forward. Tracy watched in the mirror as the hair fell away, exposing her ear, making the side of her head look flat. Deb then moved to the right side and sheared it completely. Tracy stared in the mirror. What a sight she was. Her lovely blonde hair shorn close on the sides and back, a mop of soft hair left on top with a stupid looking stubble of bangs. Tears streamed down her cheeks, mixed with snippets of her hair.
Deb had now pulled another guard from her bag and was placing it on the clippers. “Lets see, number 4, a half inch… let’s see what damage I can do with this.” She turned the clippers on, stepped behind Tracy and placed the teeth at her forehead. Tracy looked in the mirror at Deb, eyes pleading as if to say “please stop.” A huge smile flashed across Deb’s face as she ever so slowly drew the humming clippers straight back, following the part down the center of Tracy’s head. She continued with this, strip after strip, mowing the entire top of Tracy’s hair off. With each strip another handful of soft blonde hair fell onto Deb’s feet, covering her white nurse’s shoes completely. She turned the clippers off again and came around in front of Tracy. She smiled at her handiwork. Shorn back and sides, spiky, punky top. She had another idea.
She took the guard off the clippers, she turned them on and placed them in front of Tracy’s right ear. A numbness was beginning to wash over Tracy as she watched more and more of her hair fall away, but when the bare clippers touched her head she couldn’t help but notice the almost soothing warmth of the bare teeth on her scalp. Deb used the width of the clippers as a guide and cut a swath from Tracy’s right sideburn straight over her right ear, around the back of her head, over her left ear to her left sideburn. She then cleaned from the nape up to the shorn swath. She reached in Tracy’s cabinet and pulled out a can of Gillette shave cream. “Hey, this is the same kind that Michael uses… fancy that huh?” Deb wet her hand and splashed some water onto Tracy’s head. She squirted a puff of the cream into her hand and lathered the swath she had just clipped. “Now hold real still, would hate to cut you hon.” She pulled Tracy’s pastel Daisy safety razor from the cabinet and carefully cleaned the cream from her head. She wet the tip of Tracy’s bath towel and wiped away the remaining cream. She couldn’t resist touching the smooth nape. “Like a baby’s bottom!” she squealed. “But still needs something… got it!”
She went into the kitchen and came back with Tracy’s full ashtray. She used Tracy’s eyebrow tweezers to pluck the butts from the ashtray, tossing them into the toilet. She rummaged in the cabinet until she found the tube of Stiff Stuff hair gel. She squeezed a generous glob into the ashtray and stirred it with one of Tracy’s eyebrow pencils. She dipped her fingers into the horrible-smelling dark grey goo and slathered the top of Tracy’s head with it. She used Tracy’s blow dryer and the wide-toothed comb to stick the cropped top into a full flattop effect. Then she used Tracy’s Extra Hold spritz to freeze it straight up. She leaned close to Tracy’s head which was no longer golden blonde, but thanks to the ash-gel was more of a dingy grey. “Whew! Girl, if Michael tries to kiss you he’s gonna think he’s kissing an ashtray!” She put all of her items back into her bag, she also scooped up a handful of shorn locks from the floor. She turned to Tracy as she put them in the bag also. “For souvenirs,” she explained. She lit a cigarette and admired her work. Completely shaven clean from the bottom of her head up to the temple on the sides, the occipital in back. A fine soft blonde burr up to the top of the head, finishing with an even, extra stiff greyish-black flattop effect on top of her head.
She zipped her bag closed, took Tracy’s head by the chin, looked into her eyes and said, “You can have Michael, bitch, but remember if he cheated on me, soon he’ll cheat on you. And I wish I could stick around to see the look on his face when he finds you with your new haircut, but I’m cleaning out our bank account and I’m outta here! Maybe I’ll enroll in beauty school.” She picked up her bag and left the house giggling all the way out.
Tracy spent the rest of the day tied to the chair, staring at her hair, waiting for Michael to come home and find her.