The Testimony of Taliesin Jones (52 page)

In
the salon there are three ladies with their heads in driers and minds on
magazines
.
A man sits on the other wall. He
is
s
moking
a
nd
a
lmost b
ald;
th
e
h
air a
t
the s
ides
has
g
rown ove
r
h
is ea
rs
.
T
here
a
re tw
o o
ther
girls assis
ting
.
To
ni b
eckons
T
aliesin in
to th
e p
neumatic
c
hair,
press
ing
a peda
l
whic
h pu
mps
h
im
u
p
t
aller.
In the m
irror
T
aliesin i
s j
ust
a head
,
his
b
ody c
ut
of fa
t t
he
neck
by a smock
.
T
oni
h
olds
hi
s
h
ead in
h
is
h
ands,
h
is
fin
gers sp
read
.
H
e
turn
s
th
e
h
ead for a
b
etter
l
ook.

'
How
wo
uld
yo
u li
ke
it,
S
ir?'
To
ni
p
uts
him at ease wit
h h
is confide
nt m
ovements a
nd un
forced w
illingness
to p
lease
.
H
is
h
air is t
hick
a
nd
c
urly, h
is s
hirt
i
s
l
avender a
nd
he sme
lls
o
f b
athrooms
.

'
Just
a t
rim, pl
ease,' Ta
liesin
sa
ys.

To
ni
is a
h
airdresser w
ho
ca
n t
alk and c
ut
w
ithout th
e o
ne
a
ffecting th
e o
ther. H
e cu
ts T
aliesin'
s
'bonce
' a
n
d
te
lls him wh
at '
tonsorial' mean
s.
H
e
h
as at leas
t
twe
nty
diffe
rent n
ames
f
or a
h
ead a
nd h
e a
ttempts t
o
u
se
th
em a
ll
d
uring th
e
c
ourse of t
he
c
ut. He e
ven
kn
ows w
hy
o
ld
wome
n h
ave
blu
e
h
air.
H
e is a p
rofessor
of
h
air. A
tri
chologist
,
h
e says
.

'
You
see
th
ese o
n th
e
fl
oor,'
h
e says
,
't
hose
bonce
trimmin
gs
;
th
ose
bit
s of
b
arnet;
tho
se sca
lp
s
havings,
t
here
,
a
ll di
fferent
co
lours
.
E
veryone of t
hose l
ittle
h
airs co
uld t
ell
yo
u
a s
tory. Y
ou
c
ould
find out
ho
w
old
a
p
erson
w
as
;
w
hether th
ey ge
t
e
nough f
ood;
wh
en
th
ey
l
ast
went
t
o
h
ave
t
heir h
air c
ut.
Y
ou ca
n le
arn
more
a
bout
a
p
erson
f
rom
lo
oking a
t th
eir
h
air
th
an
t
aking
th
eir
pul
se.
Y
our
h
air is
th
e
h
ardest
to
c
ut. M
ost
p
eople
think
c
urly h
air
i
s
h
ard,
but the
y're w
rong. Gi
ve me c
urly h
air a
ny M
onday.
It
's a c
hallenge
y
our h
air.
You p
erfect yo
ur
sk
ills
c
utting
yo
ur
so
rt of hair. Th
at's
why I
wen
t un
isex.' To
ni
s
tops th
e scisso
r
w
ork and
uses t
he el
ec
tri
c c
utter. It
sends s
hivers
o
f
co
ld t
ingling
do
wn Ta
liesin's b
ack. T
hen,
To
ni put
s
hi
s
h
ands o
n T
aliesin's s
houlders and l
ooks a
t him in th
e
mirr
or,
hi
s
hands still rest
ing
th
ere
like
f
riendly
weig
hts.

'
I l
ook a
b
it f
unny,' T
aliesin o
bserves, f
eeling
b
are a
bout th
e ea
rs.
To
ni
rea
lly l
aughs a
t
t
his
,
thr
owing
hi
s
h
ead
back
a
nd b
ellowing at f
ull
vo
lume,
as
i
f
t
o s
how th
at
it
's
hi
s sa
lon
a
nd h
e ca
n l
augh as
l
oud as
h
e wa
nts
.
In th
e
mirr
or
T
aliesin sees
hi
s
m
other
w
atching.
H
e ca
n
se
e that
s
he i
s
pl
eased
that th
e
tw
o of
th
em ge
t
o
n.
Ta
liesin i
s a
lso plea
sed.

'T
omorrow we'
ll h
ead
for th
e
b
each
and I'll
s
how y
ou
how t
o s
kim
.
H
ave yo
u
eve
r
s
kimmed
a s
tone t
en
tim
es?'
T
oni
a
sks.

'
Never,' T
aliesin says
.
'
And w
e'll
l
ook for
b
irds,'
h
e s
ays. 'W
e'll
s
ee
h
ow
m
any s
pecies
we ca
n
see.
'

W
earing a
blu
e fishe
rman's
j
umper
o
f
Toni
's,
T
aliesin
walks
a
long th
e
b
each w
ith hi
s co
uld-be-stepfather. M
aybe
blu
e
is hi
s
c
olour,
n
ot br
own.
It
is a wa
rm Chri
stmas
Ev
e,
quite
p
ossibly a recor
d t
emperature.
Th
e s
ame sun th
at s
hines on Cwm
glum s
hines
a
littl
e s
tronger
here in We
st
H
aven,
the l
ow-angled w
inter l
ight e
nhances the hands
ome
co
lour of the t
own an
d
i
ts b
oats. G
uest
hou
ses, s
ome with unima
ginative na
mes lik
e
Wh
ite
H
orse a
nd
Sea
-View, oth
ers
with
in
triguin
g
on
es
lik
e
Kubl
akhan a
nd L
ove
Nest,
j
ostle
f
or
bu
siness;
bri
ght as
piring
hotel
s c
alled Imp
erial
and G
atehouse
out-
star ea
ch oth
er a
long
a
n
e
splanade.
Colour lie
s
upon th
e
be
ach a
nd
va
ries
acc
ording to th
e
s
un, and boat
s
called
Myfannwy,
Littl
e
Mo
by
a
nd
St
arfish
bob
o
n a hi
gh-tide
s
ea
that
c
hanges
c
o
lour
accor
ding t
o
th
e s
ky. I
f
th
e s
ky
is
blu
e t
hen th
e sea is see
-through
gree
n, if
t
he
sky
i
s grey
th
en t
he
sea is a
lurkin
g
bl
ack.
Hi
s
m
other m
ust h
ave
f
ound t
he
co
lour
s
he
was
l
ooking
f
or
h
ere
.
It mu
st have
t
empted
h
er eve
ry ti
me s
he
ca
me.
T
he
s
late m
onotone of Cw
mglum
co
uld n
ever co
mpete
wi
th th
e ice-crea
m tint
s of
W
est
H
aven. cw
mglu
m
.
Wes
t Ha
ven. Cw
mglum. W
est
H
aven.
I
a
m fr
om Cw
mglum. I am from W
est
H
aven. G
uiltily h
e
pr
efers
th
e so
und
of ‘
Haven'. It i
s
p
osh
.
It
is
n
ot far from
H
eaven
.