Stories From Home #1: The Barber of Sai Kung

Since I’m back in Hong Kong for three months, I’m starting a new series of short stories entitled “Stories From Home”. I hope to try out different ways of writing while writing about other people, inspired by real events but filled by my own imagination.

This story is inspired by my barber, Dacky, who works in my town Sai Kung. He has often told me about his love for rock music and how he’s formed a band despite his limited knowledge of music.

Recently I went to see his band’s performance at the Fringe Club in Central, and I saw quite a different side of him. I thought it would be interesting to write a short story in which he fantasizes about his performance onstage while giving someone a haircut. I try to write it completely from his mind, and this is my first attempt at stream-of-consciousness. So here it is. Enjoy and feel free to leave comments!

P.S. I have referenced “Enter Sandman” by Metallica, a song I really like.

The Barber of Sai Kung

“Alright, Dacky, you’re up!”

Dacky. I cannot believe I ever let anyone call me that. It’s such a…barber’s name. Oh well, I am one. Only a temporary one. This is a temporary job.

Five years, Dacky. Five fucking years. Oh my god, I’m calling myself Dacky too. I am a barber.

Another fat kid with his mom? Is this what the population of Sai Kung has become?

“Hey there, I’m Dacky. You wanna put down your bag? I’ll leave it in the closet over here.”

He’s looking to his mom, what a surprise.

“Or you can leave it with your mom, whatever suits you.”

Jesus, kid, make up your fucking mind.

“Alright, follow me. Have a seat here. Joe here will put on the robe for you. Oh, and take off your glasses please, just leave it there. Yeah, right there, that’s fine.

“So, what would you like to have, hmm? A number two all round, perhaps? It’s gonna be a pretty hot summer this year.”

“Umm…”

That’s right, look to mom again. Let me just see if my boss is giving me the thumbs up signal.

“Hey mister, would you mind just leaving the top as it is—maybe clean it up a bit? It’s just a bit long down this bit, see, and that, right there—but you know what I mean, just tidy it up neatly, and then cut it down to perhaps a number one at the sides and round the back—but! Leave this tip right here because I think it looks nice, don’t you, Louis? If you’re not sure what I mean then here’s a photo—“

I prefer you, kid.

“—right here. You see?”

Even if I pull it off, you are not going to.

“Sure, ma’am. Joe will wash your hair first. Joe? Mrs..”

“Mrs Wong.”

“Mrs Wong, you can leave him here for around forty-five minutes. He should be done before then.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t need to go anywhere. I’ll just sit over there.”

Great. The mom is spectating. Now I have to make conversation with fat kid number twenty-seven.

 

“So, what’s the deal? Doing anything fun in the sun?”

My heart creases when I try to act cool with fat kids. Judging from his man-boobs, this is probably the only time he steps out of his air-conditioned room all week.

“No, I still have exams.”

Look at his eyes; they’re tired. They look pretty smart, but they’re droopy like a panda. Exhausted intelligence. Wow, big word right there! Exhausted intelligence.

“How’re they going for you, pal?”

He doesn’t want this haircut. His eyes are telling me that. All he wants to do is go home and stare at his textbooks. Chinese, English, Chinese History…god, Chinese history is the worst. Burnt the whole book when the final exam was over.

“…last one is on the twenty-fifth…”

I pity you, Louis. Everyone tells you you have to do well in your exams, they tell you good grades will get you into a good university, good degree will land you a good job, good job will give you a good life.

“—and maths is the most diff—“

“How old are you, Louis?”

“Oh! I—I’m seventeen.”

Seventeen! Your eyes make you look ten years older; no trendy haircut’s gonna be able to save that. Aren’t books supposed to make you brighter? Aren’t you supposed to be the future “pillar of society”? You can’t even describe your own fucking haircut! Exams, books, studying…what are they good for? The whole education system is fucked up. It’s taking their souls away. I pray they take their souls away. I pray the lord their souls to take.

I pray the lord my soul to take…

Gosh, he’s already dozed off. Better keep one eye open. Sleep with one eye open. Grip your pillow tight.

Exit light! Enter night!

Hit the drums, Ben! Harder! Billy, turn up the distortion! More! I wanna feel the throbbing in my skull. I don’t wanna play the music, I wanna become it. I don’t wanna feel the vibration, I want to be the vibration! My fingers, they’re a blur. Let them fly, and play the most glorious solo ever heard. I am possessed! My eyes are closed, but I see my fingers move, because I am possessed. This energy is pumping through my blood, charging through my veins, up my lungs, up my brain. I am enlightened!

Take my hand, we’re off to never-never land.

Do I hear screaming? Is it the people out there? Is it me? Is it inside my head? I can’t feel myself. Am I a body? Am I a soul? This energy, it’s powerful. It’s overwhelming. It’s terrifying. It’s too much, but it’s everything I want! I’m at the edge of the pit of glory.

If I die before I wake, I pray the lord my soul to take.

Thank you! We are Colour Soul! Why is it wrong? What is it I’ve done?

“—have you done to his hair? Why have you shaved his hair all the way up to here? I don’t want my son to look like a punk!”

“Mom, will school punish me for getting this haircut?”

“Don’t worry, son, mommy will take care—“

“Dacky, what have you—“

“How should I explain to the school—“

“Come here, Dacky, I need to talk—“

Oh, god. No, kid, you definitely do not have what it takes to look like a rockstar.

It’s too late; your soul has been taken.

“Hey kid, listen.” I don’t want to swallow a mouthful of freshly-cut hair but I have to lean close to his ear to make him listen.

“Don’t study too hard for your exams, alright?”

“What are you doing with my son? Come on, Louis, let’s go. Don’t worry about your hair, mommy will tell school about it and explain this whole disaster.”

Finally, a bit of emotion behind those eyes! This is why people in Hong Kong need to live a little!