“Yeah, but don’t you have your own room? Like, it’s got to be better than sleeping on a futon next to some grungy couch.”
I shrug again.
“Oh, don’t you go all broody on me. It’s too early for broodiness. This is one fine day, Jack Royland. Do you know what today is?”
Of course I know what today is. Today Janet starts at Snip ’n’ Shine, the one and only hair salon in town. Janet says she’s been hounding Cherylene, Snip ’n’ Shine’s owner, for three years to let her work there. Janet even offered to work for nothing. I guess Cherylene finally couldn’t pass up the free labor.
Janet tugs on a piece of her straight black hair and frowns in the mirror. “Why would God waste such beautiful curls on someone who doesn’t even want to look nice? Instead, I get stuck with this hair.” She ties her hair into a bun, then goes back to mine. “Anyway, today is the day. You are looking at a gen-you-ine Snip ’n’ Shine apprentice!”
She turns my stool so that I’m facing her. She’s totally absorbed. Three bobby pins sit in her mouth an inch from my nose.
“Maybe I could get you a job there,” she says as she shoves the hundredth bobby pin into my hair. “You know, get you out of that house since you obviously hate it so much even though you’ve only been there for like twelve hours.” She side-eyes me.
I tell her it’s been more like twenty-two hours and she rolls her eyes and says, “Jack Royland, inmate number one-oh-one at Patrick’s Prison: Close your eyes.”
She lays the hair spray on thick.
I wish I could explain the difference between Mama’s house and Patrick’s. But Janet would never understand a place like Mama’s.
I don’t realize I’m gripping the hard plastic side of the countertop until Janet says, “Hey Hulk-Smash. Don’t break the counter, okay?”
She’s looking at me with that serious Janet intensity. I let go.
“I can’t wait to show the girls at the salon the magic I have done with your hair. That’s why I asked you to come over.”
She wheels my chair around so I can see the final product in the mirror. I barely recognize myself, which is what usually happens when Janet gets ahold of my hair. My normally unruly lion’s mane is transformed like magic, my bangs swept up, meshing with the twisted curls at the top of my head. I look five years older.
It’s just what I’m hoping for, but I don’t tell her that.
“I can’t go out like this,” I say, though I can’t help but smile. Even my giant practically unibrow eyebrows aren’t bothering me, my hair looks so good.
“Oh yes you can. I have to show Cherylene as many hairstyles as possible. That way, I can prove my worth at the salon. Because they might have people who can cut hair there, but I swear to God, no one there can style. I’ve seen the girls that come out of that place on prom day and it is so sad.”
She tinkers with my hair a little more.
“So you’re meeting me there, Jack Royland, in a couple of hours when I start my shift. Bring Birdie, if you have to. I need your head as proof.” She flicks her long finger at my curls and then disappears into her room to change.
• • •
On the day we arrived in California I saw Janet through the windshield of Patrick’s truck. The afternoon sun glinted off the glass and made her look like a mirage. It was the first time I got to see the Janet scowl and that stance she does when she means business.
She was standing in the doorway of the Lock & Key, the store underneath Uncle Carl’s apartment that he manages. With her hip popped to one side, a skateboard under her arm, she was saying something about having left her cell phone in her mom’s car and could Carl please jimmy the lock for her?
Me, Birdie, and Patrick walked up to the Lock & Key from the truck and that’s when Uncle Carl came out of the store, frowning at Janet.
“Get out of here. I’m not going to jimmy a lock for you.”
“But my phone. What would you do without your cell phone?” Janet said.
“I don’t have one.”
“Yes you do. I’ve seen it.”
“Yeah, well, most of the time it sits at home in between my couch cushions, out of battery.”
“But the car is right across the street, see, and my mom took off for the night with Ross, maybe the whole weekend. Can never tell with her. And she took her dumb car keys with her.”
Uncle Carl was about to respond, but that’s when he saw the three of us, me, Patrick, and Birdie, probably looking really tired after driving for more than seven hours. “Well, melt my cheese, there you all are! Look at you!”
I looked at him, but I couldn’t help staring at the girl behind him. She wore a hot-pink sweatshirt that had a giant mouth with its pierced tongue sticking out on it. Her hair was elaborately done up in two buns, one on each side of her head, and even though it was December, her face was still tan and freckled from summer.
Uncle Carl came over to us and said, “I wasn’t expecting you for another hour. Come on, let’s go up. You must be tired or hungry. You guys want some food? We can go to the Fry Shack. Birdie, my man, look at you. You have a growth spurt or something?”
Then Janet was like, “Yeah, let’s go to the Fry Shack, across the street, and before you go in you can stop at my mom’s car, which is right in front, and open it so I can get my cell phone.”
He didn’t look behind him, he just said, “People, this is Janet, the town menace. Town menace, meet my niece and nephew, Jack and Birdie.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said
