Page 48 of Rhymes with Metaphor
Flip fished them out of his pocket and dropped them into Reg’s hand.
“Have fun playing with your kid,” said Flip.
Reg watched him drive off.He didn’t feel sad.Only empty.And that was sad in itself.
Reg returned to Joel, who was still sitting beside the court.
“I’ve sent him away,” said Reg.
“For how long?”
“Forever.”
Joel blinked.“But he’s your boyfriend.”
“Hewasmy boyfriend.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I promised your sister I’d look after you.”Reg sat in the chair beside him.“Look, I should have said this a long time ago...I was an ass to you when we first met.I’m sorry.”
“For taking my drink away?”
“For thinking of you as an annoying kid.I’m sorry I was so unkind to you.”
Joel stared at the ground and said nothing.
To break the silence, Reg said, “Would you like me to cut your hair?”
Joel looked up.“What?”
“It’s getting long, and you can’t wear a headband all the time, can you?I know what I’m doing.I used to cut Martin’s.”
“All right,” said Joel.
Reg went into the house and got his mother’s grooming kit from the room where her things were still kept, along with a towel from the linen cupboard, which he flipped over his shoulder.In the kitchen, he filled an empty milk bottle with tepid water.
Joel watched Reg as he crossed the lawn.Reg draped the towel over Joel’s shoulders.
“Lean back,” said Reg.
Joel did, and Reg stripped his headband off and tipped the milk bottle slowly over his head until water was dripping onto the grass.Reg buried his hand in Joel’s hair, releasing the smell of cut hay and sweat.Joel closed his eyes, and that small gesture of trust encouraged Reg to look at his face.
By conventional standards, Flip was handsome.He’d done a photoshoot forVogueonce.Reg still had a copy of that issue tucked away, for discretion’s sake.
Joel wasn’t handsome, but Reg couldn’t get enough of looking at his face.
Reg opened the grooming kit.Inside were a pair of gold scissors, a gold comb, and a gold-handled mirror.He teased Joel’s hair between his fingers, struck by how soft it was.
It was one of those mild, languorous summer days demanding a leisurely pace, quiet, apart from the chirping of crickets in the grass, the snick of Reg’s scissors, the constant motion of the trees, heavy and green, and Joel’s soft breathing.Nothing to feel but Joel’s hair and the cool breeze and the tautness of Joel’s forehead under his fingertips.Joel kept his eyes shut and held perfectly still.Reg felt that in the act of cutting, he was making a gesture of reparation for what Flip had done.
Reg only cut enough of Joel’s hair to keep it clear of his eyes, as cutting it shorter wouldn’t suit him.When he was finished, he ran both hands through Joel’s hair to free the loose hairs onto the towel, and then he pulled the towel away and shook it out.
“There,” said Reg.
Joel opened his eyes, blinked, and Reg handed him the mirror.
“Good?”said Reg.
