I usually nap during my haircut, but today I can’t sleep. I’m not sleepy today. I’m looking at the barber’s mirror. Who is this person in the mirror? I’ve seen this face before. It’s the face I see but it’s also the face others see. I know it’s my face. I’m not sure I like it. I’m not sure if others like it. Am I ugly? My nose seems too long for my face. My eyes are too close together. I look weird. Is this really what I look like? Do I look like something else? The face I imagine is not the face I see.
I stare for a long time at my face. My face is horrible. Why do I have this face and not some other face? Other people are so attractive. Lina is very attractive. Her face is perfect. I love Lina and her perfect face. Does she love my face? I don’t think I love my face. I wish I had someone else’s face.
My hair is messy. It’s pushed forward and I look silly. I don’t think I like my hair. It makes me ugly. I wish it were darker, like Lina’s hair. Lina’s hair is beautiful. I love Lina. We’ve lived together for sixteen months and three days. I love her as much now as I did the day we met. I cannot imagine living without Lina. I can barely remember my life before I met her.
I realize the barber hasn’t started cutting my hair. I look up at the barber behind me in the mirror. The barber is looking at me. He seems surprised to see my face. I know the look of surprise in others. I have seen it a lot recently. Does the barber think I’m ugly? Does he see my face the way I see it? The barber isn’t cutting my hair at all. The barber seems frustrated and is arguing with Lina now. I can’t hear them. They argue for a long time and Lina is crying. I want to comfort her but I don’t have the energy. I go back to looking at my own face in the mirror. They argue for a while but I keep looking at my face. Then the barber comes back.
He begins cutting my hair and I finally feel myself getting sleepy.
#
When I wake up, I hear the road and the radio and I’m riding in Lina’s car. I didn’t see the barber finish my haircut. Lina is driving. She’s still crying.
“Lina, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? Is my haircut bad?”
“No, Destin. Your haircut’s fine. You look good. I’m just very sad right now.”
We stop at a traffic light. We’re on the corner near a large office complex for a company. I don’t know the company name or logo, but it seems familiar to me.
“I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”
Lina turns and looks at me. She looks surprised, the way the barber looked surprised. I’m worried she doesn’t like my face.
“You’ve never said that before.” She looks at me some more. “How can you tell if I’m keeping something from you?”
She’s right. I’ve never said that before that I can remember. But I must have said similar things in the past. It’s a common expression. I’ve heard it used in movies.
“I don’t know. But I look at you and I listen to your voice and I get a feeling that you’re keeping a secret from me. Is there a secret?”
Lina doesn’t answer. She looks at the street and the traffic light and the people.
“Do you still love me, Destin?”
“Of course I still love you, Lina. I’ve always loved you. I can’t remember a time I didn’t love you.”
The traffic light changes to green and Lina accelerates the car forward.
“What were you looking at in the mirror, back at the barber’s?”
“I was looking at my face.”
“What did you see?”
“I saw my face. But I’m not sure I like it.”
“Why not?” Lina is wiping tears from her eyes.
“I think I look weird. Sometimes I’m not even sure it’s my face. I’m worried others see my face and think I’m weird.”
Lina doesn’t say anything.
“Do you think my face is weird, Lina?”
Lina sniffles. “No, Destin. I think you have a wonderful face. You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever been with.”
“Okay. Thank you. I feel a little better.”
“When did you start feeling this way? About your face?”
“Recently, I suppose. It seemed to happen suddenly. Today at the barber I simply noticed it more. Am I weird for feeling this way? Do other people feel this way?”
“No, Destin. You’re not weird. But how long have you been watching yourself in the mirror though?”
I can’t remember. I feel like I’ve always been watching myself in a mirror. It’s always felt strange to me. But Lina seems concerned about something and I don’t want to upset her. I decide to lie. I’ve never lied before but it isn’t hard to do.
“Only this week, I think.”
“Okay.”
Lina doesn’t want to talk anymore. She turns up a song on the radio. It’s a long drive home from the barber.
We arrive home. I follow Lina from the driveway and she opens the door. Inside the door to our home is a mirror on the wall, above a decorative table. I see myself again in this mirror and again I see my face. I look at it and it still seems strange to me. Lina pulls me away.
“Stop looking at it.”
Lina seems mad at me.
“Are you mad? Did I do something wrong?”
Lina turns away without saying anything. I’m standing in the hall and she calls someone on her phone.
“Lina I want to make love to you.”
“Not now.” Lina pushes me away again and I wait for her in the hall while she talks on the phone.
Lina keeps framed pictures on the wall in the hallway. There are some pictures of the two of us together. There are some pictures of us together in Hawaii and other pictures of us in London. I enjoyed our trip to both places, but I would say I liked London more. There are also many pictures of her family. She has pictures of her father and mother and pictures of her grandparents. There are also many pictures of her brother, who passed away before I met Lina. Lina loved her brother. There are no pictures of my family in our home. I think it’s sad we don’t keep pictures of my family here.
I find Lina sitting in the kitchen still talking on the phone. She is crying again.
“Who are you talking to?”
Lina puts the phone down.
“No one. Sit down with me, okay Destin?”
I sit down and ask Lina a question.
“Lina, why are there no pictures of my family on the wall? There are pictures of your family but none of mine.”
Lina is staring at me. She seems surprised. She also seems frightened for some reason but I’m not sure why. Is my face frightening?
“I wish we had pictures of my family on the wall. I can’t remember what my father and mother look like.”
Lina is staring at me. I think for a moment. I’m trying to understand what’s making her so sad. Her eyes are red and swollen and her cheeks are covered in tears. She has to keep wiping them away. I reach out to help wipe away her tears but she pushes my hand aside.
“Lina, is there something wrong with me? Why can’t I remember my family? Why can’t I remember anything that happened before the day we moved into this home? I know I courted you for a long time before we moved here. I can feel the length of time. But I can’t find any memory of it.”
Lina is not answering my questions. When I ask her a question she answers with a different question. She seems very concerned about me looking in mirrors. Is she worried I will find out I’m ugly? I find our conversation frustrating. I can’t remember being frustrated with Lina before and I don’t enjoy this new feeling. I am angry with her. This new feeling grows in me and we are arguing. We have never argued before. But I find it isn’t hard to argue.
There’s a knock on the back door and then it is opened. It is Lina’s father. Lina’s father doesn’t like me. He has always treated me badly. He seems to disagree with our relationship, although I’ve always tried to be very polite with him. I respect him a great deal. He is the father of the woman I love.
He is holding a claw hammer.
I wave at Lina’s father. “Hello, Mr. Pereira.”
He says “shut up” and then he pushes the table aside, rushes directly at me and attacks me with the hammer. Lina tries to stop him and screams. But he is a powerful man and swings the hammer directly into the side of my head. I’m knocked sideways and stumble backward over the chair and land against the cabinets. I’m awkwardly wedged between the cabinets and the chair.
I see the cabinets above me. Lina’s father hits me again in the face with the hammer. He hits me in the chest and in the forehead. He moves the chair and hits my legs. He is rising up and bringing the hammer down forcefully and his face is turning red. I experience this pain all over me. Lina is trying to stop him. I feel so sad for Lina that she has to watch this taking place. Lina’s father has decided to attack me and she can’t stop him even with all of her strength. She is pulling on him and screaming “no!” and “stop!” but he is too strong.
I try to block the attacks of the hammer. I try to resist Lina’s father, but I’m not able to. He’s propelling the hardened steel end of his hammer into my body and I feel I should be fighting him. But I cannot fight him. Fighting him would mean harming him and I am a pacifist. I cannot harm him, even if it means my own destruction. I worry I may die, and I become so sad that Lina may lose me forever. I can feel myself begin to cry. I have never been so sad for Lina before. She will be so lonely without me. She will have no one in this home.
Lina’s father stops hitting me and stands up. Lina is sobbing and screaming and pulling at him. Lina’s father is looking down at me. His face is still red. His hair is messy now and he is sweating. He is from a different generation and doesn’t understand our relationship.
Lina is leaning on her father and crying. I am happy he is consoling her. Lina loves her father, even though he can be a difficult man. He loves her and he will take care of her if I die.
I reach up with my hand and I can feel I am badly injured. One of my eyes has been destroyed. I feel large wounds on my head and in my chest. My other arm is broken. Lina’s father has also hit my genitals. I hold my hand in front of my face to look but there is no blood. In movies there is always a lot of blood after a beating but I am not bleeding. Perhaps I am overreacting to what has just happened, but I am unable to move.
Lina looks down at me. She is still crying. Her father has turned away. I think he is ashamed. I think he is crying. Lina leans down on her hands and kisses me on the cheek. She softly says she is sorry. I try to speak but I can’t. It seems like her father should apologize first for beating me. I still can’t move. Lina’s father pulls her away and they leave together. I don’t know where they’re going.
I’m alone on the kitchen floor for a long time. I try to understand why Lina’s father would attack me. Have I done something wrong? Is there something wrong with my face? Was I wrong to look at mirrors? I try to think about Lina but I am still angry with her. Who was she talking to on the phone? Why was her father so angry?
The sun is setting outside and the room is filled with orange light and long shadows cast inward by the trees outside. The door opens again. I look down and see a man coming into the kitchen. It is my barber. How strange to see my barber in our home! He sees me and I hear him say, “Ah shit.”
My barber kneels next to me. He sighs.
“Hi, Destin.”
He touches my wounds. I want to speak to him but it is difficult.
“He really did a number on you, didn’t he?”
I cannot see myself so I can’t agree or disagree with him. I’m not bleeding, at least, so I think I will be okay. I reach up to touch his face. He takes hold of my hand.
“I’m really sorry he did this to you.”
My barber is being very kind, but I wish Lina were here. I miss her. I’ve loved her since the day I met her. I want to show her how much I love her again soon.
My barber is examining my wounds, which is unusual, because he isn’t a doctor. I’m not sure he can help me. Lina always schedules my haircuts for me and drives me to the barber. I don’t understand why he would come to our home. I had a haircut just this morning. Is my haircut bad? Is he here to fix it? Did he notice that I’m weird when he saw me in the mirror?
“Destin, when you were in my shop, and you were looking at yourself in the mirror, what were you thinking? What did you see?”
It is difficult to speak. Destin presses his fingers on my neck and I feel myself able to speak very softly.
“I was thinking about how I look weird. I was thinking that I might be ugly, and that other people might look at me and think I was ugly.”
My voice sounds strange. It doesn’t sound like my voice.
“How did that make you feel? To believe you might be ugly?”
The barber is asking strange questions. He usually only talks to me about simple things like movies or the weather. His questions make me feel worried something is wrong. Did I do something wrong?
“I don’t want to be ugly. I want to be beautiful like other people. But I see myself and I think I may be weird. Lina is beautiful and I love her. Where did Lina go? Is she coming back?”
The barber puts his hand over my mouth for a moment.
“Be quiet now, Destin. I have another question.”
I become more worried. I feel frightened. Something is wrong. My barber’s voice has changed and I begin to feel something is wrong with me. My voice has changed. I don’t know what is wrong with me.
“Destin, do you know who you are? Do you know what you are?”
This question makes me laugh slightly. It is humorous to ask a question like that. Laughing makes me feel a little better.
“My name is Destin. I am Lina’s boyfriend. I love Lina. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. We’ve been together for sixteen months and almost four days…”
“That’s right, Destin. You’ve never been wrong about that.”
My barber reaches into his bag and brings out his clippers. He brushes my hair forward and starts cutting my hair.
I feel myself getting very sleepy.
Christopher S. Wilson is the former publisher and editor-in-chief at Redivider journal. He has fiction published or forthcoming in The Greensboro Review, The Florida Review, and subTerrain. He can be found at christopherstetsonwilson.com, or on Instagram: @dwicefox.