Part 1:
“It’s a travesty! Oh my goodness. I’ll sue them. I’ll sue them all!”
The shrieking voice on the phone was unmistakable.
“Aunt Beanie? Are you all right?”
Things were not all right with our aunt, Robina Hyung.
Her call came to my parents’ house, where I’d been enjoying brunch with Rick prior to our cousin Amy’s wedding.
“It’s those nags at the beauty parlor. They’ve ruined me.”
“Who?"
“Vivian and Mona and Marie. I can't go like this.”
I explained that my folks were at the mall getting Dad a new tie.
With a plea of “Have your father call me,” she hung up in tears.
“What was that?” Rick asked.
“Aunt Beanie. She’s not coming to the wedding. Her hair!”
“It’s that bad? They can’t fix it?”
“She seemed pretty berserk.”
“There’s got to be some beautician or stylist somewhere.”
“What about Dr. Hulse? He’s talked in class about his secret hair research.”
“Your science teacher does experiments on hair?”
“Some big conglomerate’s paying him a fortune to develop new equipment. I’ll send him a text.”
My school offered a course last semester by the famous (infamous?) Dr. Rensselaer Hulse.
He did not teach teens out of the goodness of his heart.
It was more out of crashing his Mosby 840-X through the front window of Wennman’s Jewelry.
The shrieking voice on the phone was unmistakable.
“Aunt Beanie? Are you all right?”
Things were not all right with our aunt, Robina Hyung.
Her call came to my parents’ house, where I’d been enjoying brunch with Rick prior to our cousin Amy’s wedding.
“It’s those nags at the beauty parlor. They’ve ruined me.”
“Who?"
“Vivian and Mona and Marie. I can't go like this.”
I explained that my folks were at the mall getting Dad a new tie.
With a plea of “Have your father call me,” she hung up in tears.
“What was that?” Rick asked.
“Aunt Beanie. She’s not coming to the wedding. Her hair!”
“It’s that bad? They can’t fix it?”
“She seemed pretty berserk.”
“There’s got to be some beautician or stylist somewhere.”
“What about Dr. Hulse? He’s talked in class about his secret hair research.”
“Your science teacher does experiments on hair?”
“Some big conglomerate’s paying him a fortune to develop new equipment. I’ll send him a text.”
My school offered a course last semester by the famous (infamous?) Dr. Rensselaer Hulse.
He did not teach teens out of the goodness of his heart.
It was more out of crashing his Mosby 840-X through the front window of Wennman’s Jewelry.
He got a suspended sentence pending community service: teaching Intro to Bio-Engineering, for free.
This was whom I wished to entrust my Aunt’s tresses.
Honestly, I did have my doubts.
But doubts were not on Aunt Beanie’s mind as she got into Rick’s car.
She removed her scarf to let us assess the damage.
The color! The curls!
The sheer disregard for humanity!
Gaggles of geese spewing orange soda could have done no worse.
This was whom I wished to entrust my Aunt’s tresses.
Honestly, I did have my doubts.
But doubts were not on Aunt Beanie’s mind as she got into Rick’s car.
She removed her scarf to let us assess the damage.
The color! The curls!
The sheer disregard for humanity!
Gaggles of geese spewing orange soda could have done no worse.
Rick stepped on the gas and headed for the promise of science.
We arrived at a humungous brick house behind iron gates.
I stated my name into a speaker.
The gates swung open.
Dr. Hulse greeted us wearing his lab coat. His look was mid-forties boyish, his dark hair stylishly messy.
“Miss Hatcher-Hyung.” He gazed at my scalp. “Ah, you’ve tried the yak milk solution. Makes a difference, yes?”
“You were right, Dr. Hulse. Thanks again.”
“Just watch for latent lactose allergies. Excellent, excellent.”
The doctor shifted to my brother, peering closely at his head.
“Uh, hi, I’m Rick. Thanks for making time to see us.”
“Give some thought to your sister’s yak milk. But yes, you have wonderful follicular output.”
We arrived at a humungous brick house behind iron gates.
I stated my name into a speaker.
The gates swung open.
Dr. Hulse greeted us wearing his lab coat. His look was mid-forties boyish, his dark hair stylishly messy.
“Miss Hatcher-Hyung.” He gazed at my scalp. “Ah, you’ve tried the yak milk solution. Makes a difference, yes?”
“You were right, Dr. Hulse. Thanks again.”
“Just watch for latent lactose allergies. Excellent, excellent.”
The doctor shifted to my brother, peering closely at his head.
“Uh, hi, I’m Rick. Thanks for making time to see us.”
“Give some thought to your sister’s yak milk. But yes, you have wonderful follicular output.”
“A-HEM,” said Aunt Beanie. “Perhaps manners mean nothing in this house, but there is surely a lady present.”
“Forgive me,” Dr. Hulse replied, unfazed by the dire nature of her hair. “My apologies.”
“It’s just … I have a wedding in a few hours.”
“Do not worry, good woman. I have the means to help you.”
He met our eyes, one by one, assessing our trustworthiness.
“Coif-Com International is funding advanced research in modern hair-care devices.”
“Good heavens.”
“Your situation is most fortuitous, for it allows me to test my latest modifications.”
“Test?”
“Just a figure of speech, madam. Please, step into my laboratory.”
We followed him through double doors and entered a lab unlike any other.
Mannequin heads filled the room, nestled among bizarre machines and strange devices.
The vacant faces stared out under exquisite haircuts, giving the room a glamorously macabre feeling.
It was like a surprise party for Marie Antoinette.
“Forgive me,” Dr. Hulse replied, unfazed by the dire nature of her hair. “My apologies.”
“It’s just … I have a wedding in a few hours.”
“Do not worry, good woman. I have the means to help you.”
He met our eyes, one by one, assessing our trustworthiness.
“Coif-Com International is funding advanced research in modern hair-care devices.”
“Good heavens.”
“Your situation is most fortuitous, for it allows me to test my latest modifications.”
“Test?”
“Just a figure of speech, madam. Please, step into my laboratory.”
We followed him through double doors and entered a lab unlike any other.
Mannequin heads filled the room, nestled among bizarre machines and strange devices.
The vacant faces stared out under exquisite haircuts, giving the room a glamorously macabre feeling.
It was like a surprise party for Marie Antoinette.