Reawaken

4.

I stared at the HELP WANTED sign that sat in the window of a small building back into town. The sign read "Bunny's Beauty Parlor" I fiddled with the coins in my pocket, although I had a good bulk saved, it wasn't going to be enough to survive for longer than a month. If I was going to keep moving, I needed to start saving up again. Inhaling sharply, I walked through the glass door.

The inside was a rustic orange and yellow theme, with brown paisley patterns on the wallpaper. The smell of processing hair and dye swirled in my nose. My eyes landed on a row of shampoo sinks, and across the space a row of chairs and mirrors were the parlor girls were busy curling, pinning, and spraying. Women sat with curlers in their hair, funky capes draped over their bodies as some read magazines, others tuning into some juicy gossip.

I smiled at the quaint shop, feeling something familiar overwhelm me, thinking back on the times Nana would bring me to the beauty parlor with her to get my hair straightened.

Daddy didn't understand the need for such torture, spending hours on end just for it to frizz up like nothing happened after a few days or so. But Nana often told me it was important to be ladylike and looking beautiful could sometimes help you feel beautiful. I glanced down at my dirty hands, a heaviness sitting in my stomach.

I hadn't felt beautiful in a long while.

I sauntered in further, stopping at the front desk where a woman sat filing her nailbed, not daring look up at me. I recognized her as the woman in the motel my first day arriving, Isis was her name.

"How can I help ya, suga?" She mumbled.

"Hi, I was inquirin' about your sign out front," I began.

Isis finally looked up at me, then, something devilish glossed over her dark eyes. A smirk met her angular lips, sizing me up and down like she had the first time she saw me.

"My, my," she drawled, "Look what the wind blew in." She stood from her seat, walking towards the back, "Misty! Someone is here for you?"

A tall young woman appeared, the tallest woman I've ever seen, her curly dark afro only making her seem amazon like. Her skin was rich and deep, but she wore a friendly smile that made me want to trust her almost immediately. A yellow apron was wrapped around her waist, and she wore a nametag that said "BUNNY".

"My gracious gal, look at this hair," She exclaimed approaching me, her voice was low and had a deep cajun accent. Her long fingers began combing through my frizzy, oily strands, "Lord, we gone hafta condition ya right away! I'm gone squeeze ya in right now!"

A nervous laugh fell from my lips, "I'm actually here about ya Help Wanted sign," I told her.

"Oh," the woman started, "Why ain't ya say so, chile," She held out her hand and gave me a firm shake, wobbling my arm up and down. Her long legs began sauntering around the shop giving me a tour of the place. I quickened my pace to follow her, "My name is Misty but everyone 'round these parts calls me Bunny. This here my parla'. Ya see, I need someone good wit' numba's, help me keep up wit' my books. Someone who can help schedule appointments," She rambled, "Ya good wit' numba's suga?"

My head was spinning. It wasn't until she was looking at me expectantly with those large chocolate eyes of hers that she had asked me a question. I nodded my head, "Yes. I have a teaching degree." I stated.

That caused that pretty smile to widen on Bunny's face, "Oh good, so ya smart. Ya look real smart, I can tell." She walked on, pointing at a few of the ladies in the back, "This Rita, Mary Belle, and Josephine, my stylists. And the nosy redbone gal upfront is Isis, my cousin," She introduced. All the stylist gave me equally warm smiles, and I turned back to where Isis stood near the front, her eyes still looking at me, trying to read me.