The Church Wants You (All of you) - Part 2
Peter stood with his arms crossed beside the kitchen counter.
"Rick, listen to yourself."
"We're talking about pretending to be someone we're not."
Peter pointed toward the pile of bills.
"And they're talking about taking our apartment."
The words landed harder than Rick wanted to admit.
Peter softened his voice.
"I'm not asking you to join anything."
"I'm not joining anything."
"I'm not asking you to believe anything."
"I'm not believing anything."
"I'm asking you to survive."
"One year. Council elections are next spring."
"But everybody says the same thing. The old council is losing support. People are angry. Utility prices. Mortgage increases. Store closures."
"If they're gone next year, everything changes."
That worried Rick more than anything.
Peter pointed at his hair.
"If we're doing this, let's do it."
The exact opposite of what most young men in town now wore.
"Give me one of those stupid haircuts."
For the first time all evening.
"They all look identical."
"Then make me identical."
Twenty minutes later they had moved into the living room.
Rick had dragged home some equipment from the shop months earlier.
Peter sat in a wooden chair.
Looking deeply uncomfortable.
A black barber cape covered him from neck to feet.
Rick snapped the cape closed.
"You still have time to back out."
"You still have time to stop being dramatic."
Rick switched on the clippers.
The familiar buzzing filled the apartment.
For a moment everything felt normal.
Before the town started changing.
"I haven't even started."
The clippers touched Peter's neck.
Hair immediately began falling.
Dark curls slid down the cape.
"You sound eighty years old."
Slowly Rick worked around the back of Peter's head.
The longer curls disappeared.
Every few minutes Peter would glance toward the dark television screen trying to catch a reflection.
Rick pushed his head gently forward.
Rick blended the sides carefully.
His hands moved automatically.
Ironically, lately he had been cutting dozens of nearly identical conservative hairstyles.
He knew exactly what Peter wanted.
That somehow annoyed him even more.
The clippers buzzed higher.
Cleaner than Peter had ever worn it.
Eventually Rick stepped back.
The transformation was already obvious.
Rick hated how effective it looked.
Peter groaned dramatically.
Rick sprayed water through the top.
A comb moved through them.
Creating a neat side part.
The kind Rick saw every day now.
The kind Ethan and the others wore.
The kind that seemed to be taking over the town.
Peter stared at the floor.
"You know what's really weird?"
"The haircut actually looks good."
That answer made them both laugh.
Warm air blew through Peter's hair.
Rick shaped the part carefully.
Every strand placed deliberately.
When he finally switched off the dryer, silence returned.
Rick handed over a mirror.
For several seconds he simply stared.
"I look like one of them."
"I really look like one of them."
Peter touched the side part.
Neither spoke for a moment.
Peter pointed toward the bedroom.
Peter disappeared into their bedroom.
A few minutes later closet doors opened.
Rick sat on the couch wondering how his life had somehow reached this point.
Holding a white dress shirt.
Along with black suit trousers.
He looked at them uncertainly.
Like they belonged to someone else.
He removed his polo shirt.
Then stepped into the black trousers.
The fabric felt different.
He fastened the waistband.
Then picked up the white shirt.
For several seconds he simply held it.
Rick watched from the doorway.
"You don't have to do this."
Then he slid his arms into the sleeves.
The cool cotton settled over his shoulders.
The cuffs fell neatly into place.
The shirt transformed him almost as much as the haircut had.
The white fabric looked crisp.
When he reached the collar, Peter hesitated.
Rick noticed immediately.
Finally he fastened another button.
Until only the top one stays unbuttoned.
The collar framed the new haircut perfectly.
Exactly the way Rick had seen hundreds of times lately.
Peter stepped in front of the mirror.
The man staring back barely looked like the same person who had sat down for a haircut forty minutes earlier.
The messy curls were gone.
The casual style was gone.
The relaxed look was gone.
Everything looked sharper.
At least according to the town.
Neither knew what to say.
Finally Peter looked over.
Then looked back at the mirror.
"You know what's annoying?"
Peter laughed even harder.
And for the first time all week, despite the bills, despite the mortgage, despite the fear hanging over them both, they managed to laugh together.
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