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Raining - 2.
I followed the map that front desk drew for me. Thomas was sleeping at the hotel room and I had some time to my own. I thought to clean myself up. It was a long time since I last had my hair cut. “How are you doing?” the man said. The shop was empty. He was leaning against the counter while leafing through a magazine when I walked in. “I'm Ken. Did you need a hair cut?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Right this way.” He folded a corner of the magazine down and set it behind the counter. He was taller than he appeared yesterday. His voice carried a relaxed, yet distant tone. Even in the dim of the entryway, I could see the sweat lines along his white shirt where he tied black apron around his waist. After yesterday's rain, the temperature was much warmer and the humidity had returned.
Ken showed me to a salon chair by the window. It was the same seat that I had witnessed the woman sitting in yesterday. In the ceiling above the chair were white fluorescent lamps that made the room feel sterile and cold. I sat down. In front of me was a sink and a mirror.
On the opposite side of the room was the woman who had offered me the cigarette at the bus stop. Her back was turned towards me and in front of her was an old television set showing Days of Being Wild. She must have noticed that I was looking in her direction. She turned around and smiled.
“We met yesterday didn't we? I saw you yesterday waiting in front of the best stop. New faces are easy to get noticed around here. Did you enjoy my cigarettes?” Ken said.
“Cigarettes?” I said. I moved from hands from my knees to the edge of the arm rest.
“The ones my wife had were mine. She always enjoys them.” Ken stopped the facet and turned the chair around. My back now faced the sink and mirror. He reclined the chair and began to wash my hair. “Let me know if the water is too warm.”
“It's fine,” I said.
“Elaine always takes them from my desk. I never have any idea where they are. Well, I don’t' mind though. Where did you come from?” I felt the coolness of the shampoo touch my scalp.
“From San Francisco,” I said.
“In America?”
“Yes.”
“Will you be leaving soon?”
“Maybe tomorrow or the day after. We're just passing through,” I said. His hands paused for a brief moment, then they continued.
“In a few days...that's too bad.”
I heard the television shut off and Elaine's footsteps travel across the room. “Hello there,” she said. I wasn't able to move my head but could see her at the edge of my peripheral vision. She stood in the entryway. I thought I saw the hint of an amused smile.
Ken pulled the drain plug emptied the water. It gurgled. When it finished, he turned the faucet back on and all I could hear was the sound of rushing water filling the sink back up.
I stared out the window on the bus ride back. The hotel was five stops away. By this time, Thomas should have woken up and read the note I left for him in the morning. “Going to get a haircut, will come back with lunch,” it said. It was raining again and the street was furnished with a bouquet of umbrellas. It rained. It came down in torrential sheets that streamed off of store awnings and curbs.
I sat on the second level of the bus, in front of the stairs. I was feeling much lighter. I touched the sides of my head. They felt prickly. I moved two fingers across my upper lip and chin. I forgot how smooth they could be.
I looked down at the people getting onto the bus at the stop before the hotel. Watching the rain run off the window made me drowsy and the intervals between my blinks were becoming longer. But I didn't want to miss my stop so I focused on any object that stood out in the scenery outside. Below me, I could see the top of a purple umbrella make its way along the side of the bus.
She had the same amused smile as she noticed me on her way up the stairs. “Do you mind?” she said.
“Sure. I don't mind at all,” I said. She smoothed the pleats of her dress underneath her an and sat down. She hung the umbrella on the stair railing and crossed her legs.
“You look better than you did yesterday,” she said. She was looking straight ahead.
“Thank you.”
“You looked sad yesterday. I think this suits you much more.” She folded her hands across her lap. There was a silver ring on her right hand. She noticed me glancing at it “Are you married?” she said.
“I was.”
“I'm sorry to hear that. Do you still love her?”
“I don't know. It's complicated I suppose.”
“Isn't everything.”
“But I can say today that I do.”
“Yet, she let you go.” Her directness made me nervous. I had gotten use to not talking or thinking about Isabelle at all even though her former existence permeated the air around me.
“And what about you?” I said.
“I suppose. He has his life and I have mine.” She turned to look outside the window next to me, “In the end, there's not much to be sad about.”
We arrived at my stop, a few hundred feet away from the hotel front. I didn't know how to respond anymore.
I remember the morning before she left. It was five in the morning, her eyes were red, she hadn't slept the entire night. Knowing this kept me awake next to her. She told me that she felt old. I said I'd cut her hair for her in the morning. “Maybe, you just need a new look,” I said that morning. “Maybe,” she said. I tried to re-imagine her face when she looked into the hand held mirror after I cut her hair. “I feel much better,” she said then but her face looked empty as if she was looking through the mirror and not into it.
“I'm sorry, this is my stop,” I said to Elaine. She stood up and stepped to the side of the seat.
“It's too bad,” she said.
"Isn't everything," I said.
"I wouldn't have made you sad."
I was already on the way downstairs. The door of the bus had just began to close as I stepped out.
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