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Shorts
Shaving Cream Clouds
By jsyingling
23 November 2006
I suppose this could pass for a short story.  Really though, this is an exercise.  It could end up being the introduction to a much larger work/narrative about god, life, love, milk, angels and theater.  Trying to nail a style down.  All over the place, I know its confusing, just lemme know what I can do to clean it up.  I started big with lots of quirky images and ideas and figured I'd narrow it down.


Alec was bald and no one knew why.  Of all the second grader’s oddities, this was the most interesting.  All eight year olds have their kinks, their oddities, their strange habits that leave teachers and parents scratching their heads.  Some tikes are obsessed with manatees, others have their trading card games, and everyone has seen a lonely kid put dirty, sticky found objects in their mouths when no one is looking.  Just the other day I saw a kid packing playground mulch into all of his cargo pockets, his sweatshirt hood, even his tighty-whities.

The smooth scalp on Alec might have been peculiar, but Alec himself was not strange, or immature, or weird.  He had an intensity, an odd aura of maturity. It emanated from his hands – his always moving, always touching, stroking, absent minded zipper pulling, handrail grazing, eternally rubbing, fragile little hands.

More often than not the hands caressed the skinned dome of his head.  Most kids thought Alec shaved his head.  The most popular rumor was that Alec shaved his head to avoid attention from fat Amanda who was caught with a hair doll in kindergarten.  Fat Amanda only liked blond hair in her hair dolls and most would agree Alec would have blond hair.  Billy thought he overheard his mom telling a friend’s mom that Alec was too traumatized to have hair after watching his sister’s hair get caught in an escalator.  The truth is Billy mom is a former high school drama gossip princess whose maturity (and virginity) never made it out of her senior prom.  Alec doesn’t even have a sister.

For a while, his classmates thought that Alec was bald from an accident or chemo or some other adult stuff.  This rumor was disrupted after Fred delivered homework to Alec’s home after chicken pox swept through the school.  This revealed two truths to Fred and his friends.

1.    It was possible to get chicken pox on the top of your head.  Alexis had confirmed it was possible to get it in your arm pits and Josh’s brother had received firsthand evidence the genitals were also suspect.  Now the class knew that it could indeed spread to your head. This fact was nearly masked by the second:
2.    Fred’s view of the red constellations on Alec’s head was partially obstructed by stubble.  After a quick discussion with Josh and Billy, the second grade class came to the conclusion Alec shaved his head.  Their classmate was no hairless freak of nature, just the regular garden-variety quirk.

Alec tried to shave his head during the chicken pox epidemic.  As he filled the sink with water, he started at his reflection.  Curious, his hands rubbed the short hairs.  Fingers spread, they stroked from the nape of his neck to the dome of his head.  The sensation sent shudders through his tiny frame.

Today Alec felt like an African explorer.  That would explain the scattered itchy pox (mosquitoes) and the heat emanating from his hungry body (jungle fever).  With the shaving cream, he outlined a safari hat on the bathroom mirror.  He reached for the razor, but then remembered he forgot a khaki vest, little claw necklace, and gruff mustache and light chest hair.  Dashing.

After lathering his head, he made the first pass with his razor.  Just as his imagination started beating out a bongo drum rhythm, his dropped his razor after it bit him.  He looked into the sink.  Shaving cream clouds were peppered with specks of hair, flocks of tiny birds. Blood dripped into the bathroom sink skyscape.  Alec’s hand reached in and squeezed the puffs of cream.  No impostor clouds on this morning.

Chicken pox cannot be remedied by shaving them off, just like they can’t be remedied by scratching them off.  A few more drops of blood landed in the smooth lathered surface of the water.  Cautiously, they branched into webs and spirals, choking the white clouds.  Alec imagined that sunsets in Africa might look something like that.  Weeks later, Alec had the same thought when his dad slit his wrists over a bowl of milk and breakfast cereal.

Before Alec had a chance to wipe off the mirror, it fell from the wall.  For a second, Alec thought he was falling.

Reviews

Written by Clifftown (642 comments posted) 23rd November 2006
I think you characterise Alec so well in this short piece. I especially liked your description of his image of an African explorer in the mirror.  
 
I found it an intriguing read, there is an almost dreamlike quality to it. I was left wondering what had happened with Alec's father and would be interested to read more. Definitely worth developing in my humble opinion... 

Written by Witzl (1585 comments posted) 23rd November 2006
Although I found myself confused in places (which is much more to do with my sluggish brain than your writing), I too liked this a lot. I particularly liked your descriptions of Alec's hands -- the way they were always moving and touching things.  
 
For me, the loose ends you have left make me think of this as a first chapter rather than a short story. But I suspect that plenty of people would disagree.
Great up til the end...
Written by Talisker (1331 comments posted) 23rd November 2006
The teaser about his dad's suicide makes it "not a short story" for me. You can't leave a reader hanging on like that! 
 
Alec's description was really good, though I'm left wondering why he shaved his head.  
 
Al in all, very well written. Not sure about the "list" points 1 and 2 in the middle. Maybe thats just me. 
 
Oli :)
Awww
Written by Fledermaus (3482 comments posted) 23rd November 2006
I was expecting something funny, but then it became dark and sad. A good description though.
Hmmmm
Written by ellipinnock (1784 comments posted) 23rd November 2006
I liked this as a short story without the ending or as the beginning of a longer piece with that ending if you see what I mean. As a short story the suicide reads as if it has just been chicked onto the end. However, if you intend to build something more complex then it is an interesting starting point. You characterise the child well, interesting read. 
 
E

Written by Phil (6959 comments posted) 23rd November 2006
Loved the bit about the child but felt you changed too quickly to 'today.' 
 
The description of his hands was very good. 
 
Although I liked this a lot, particularly for its style, I thought the last four paragraphs didn't sit well enough with the first few. Seems like I'm in a minority though.  
 
Having said all that, if this was the opening of a longer piece, I would certainly want to read more. 
 
Again, thought the style of writing was very engaging. 
 
Phil.

Written by Snodlander (507 comments posted) 24th November 2006
Handrail grazing. Great phrase. I'm not sure how his wandering hands showed his maturity though. 
 
The first para states 'I saw a kid packing playground mulch', but then the narrator does not appear for the rest of the story. Perhaps 'he had seen'. 
 
I too felt that the line about his father was shoe-horned into the story. I much prefer the story with that line cut, or for it to become more integral with the story. Perhaps his Dad becoming distressed over his odd child. 
 
'his dropped his razor' should read 'he dropped his razor'. 
 
Original story. I'd have liked to read more about his quirkiness, perhaps hinting at why he wanted to shave his head. Enjoyed it.

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