82. SHAVE AND A HAIRCUT

Annabelle opened the door to my apartment.

Ta dah! I shouted, and she slammed the door in my face and locked it.

Annabelle!  It’s daddy!  Let me in.

I need a password, sir.  You don’t look like Daddy!

Annabelle, I just got my hair cut!  It’s the first time in seven months.

Well, I don’t know, sir.  You do not look like Daddy.  I need the password.

Thatch!  Thatcher!  You know it’s me.  Let me in.

Annabelle, it sounds like Daddy, he said.

Ghouls are masters of disguise, Thatch! I need that password, sir.

Annabelle, dammit.

Touchy touch, sir. I could tell she was in her best bureaucrat mood.  I’m sending her off to work for the DMV.

I am not amused, Annabelle.  Open the damned door.

I need that password, sir.

Annabelle, how can I know the password since you didn’t give it to me when I left forty-five minutes ago?

I didn’t?

You didn’t, Thatch told her.

Oh, all right.  Come in.

I walked into the apartment.  You are so lucky, I am in a good mood, Missy, or I’d . . . well, I don’t know what I would do!  Hello, Thatcher!

Thatch rubbed against my leg. It is Daddy, Annabelle!  It’s his scent.  He danced happily around my feet.

Like my haircut, babies?  I like my new barber, I told them.  Over a month ago, my barber in Radio City closed shop for good, and my friend Jason recommended a shop literally a half a block away from my apartment.  I was very pleased with the result, and even happier to find one so close to home.  My balance with a cane was getting poorer, and I felt more secure n the streets with a walker, and the walk to the barber was an easy trip.

Stella ran up and brushed against my leg.  When I reached down to pet her head, she grabbed my forearm with her front paws and bit the loose skin between my thumb and finger.  Stella! I yelled. She let go and ran into the bathroom where she leaped into the bathtub and rolled about on the porcelain.  I don’t think she’s a well cat, I said to Thatch.

She’s just happy to see you, Thatch explained.  She really loves you.

Well, Annabelle, what do you think, little girl?

Very kempt, Annabelle observed.  You look different, that’s all  She then turned and strolled back to her Amazon carton, where she settled.

Of course I look different, I responded.  I don’t have all that wild hair flying about.

As I said, very kempt.

Did you bring us a treat? Thatch asked me.

Did you see Val? Annabelle asked.

I did and I did, I answered.

You are so aggravating, Annabelle turned in her Amazon carton.  Sometimes you make no sense at all!

©2020, Larry Moore