Barber Shop Ink: Always Blue in Memphis

by Penny Blush

  Oh, what’s that you’re twenty-seven and you don’t have your dream job, you don’t own your home, and you're not in a mature, loving relationship? Awe sweetie, Bless!

  My life was perfect.

  I was working my dream job with Donavan James, world renowned stylist to the stars in his flagship salon, ‘Hair by Donavan James'. Donavan and the salon had the reputation as being the most innovatively stylish, forward thinking salon in the country if not the world. I loved working with Donavan; it was a fun energetic place to work and the fact that I was earning three times what a stylist would typically make wasn't bad either!

  I would spend my days rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous, perfecting my skills, which led to winning competitions and awards and being widely respected by my peers. I generally, loved life. From the moment, we met at my job interview, Donavan and I had an insta-click. After meeting me and talking about all things hairdressing, he said that he didn’t need to see any of my work and wouldn’t need me to complete a trial period. He just hired me on the spot; telling me that he could sense that we were kindred spirits and that we would work well together and he was right. We just gelled, we worked seamlessly together, and it was like we had a sixth sense with each other. If one of us needed more colour, the other just knew, and a new bowl of colour would appear. I hadn't had this much fun working since my time in the salon with Stella, learning my trade.

  Outside of work, we became fast friends, hanging out together, partying, chilling out and soon we became the very best of friends. From then on, Donavan and I were inseparable; one rarely seen without the other. I felt like I had found a surrogate brother and that I had found a true and loyal friend.

  A small part of my bruised and battered heart started to heal. The cracks began closing, leaving behind only faint scars of the damage that was. It felt like I had found a little piece of home.

  Donavan had taken on the role as my rock, my ‘person', and he was my biggest cheerleader. He made sure that I got to attend the best courses to enhance my skills and further my career. Donavan ensured that I got into all the best parties so that I could network, increasing my industry connections, he would enter my work into competitions to get my name out there. I travelled constantly, and Donavan had no problem with me being out of the salon as much as I was because I was furthering my skills, representing ‘Hair by Donavan James’ and promoting us both. He was always looking out for me, and he even introduced me to Thomas.

  Thomas Willington, the Third, was my handsome, wonderful, attentive and caring boyfriend. Things with Thomas were comfortable right from the beginning. We had met at a dinner party that Donavan was hosting, we spent the evening talking and laughing together. We were instantly comfortable with each other, and we shared a lot of the same friends and interests. After a few dinner and coffee dates, we decided to become exclusive.

  Thomas was so supportive of my career and encouraged me to go after my dreams. If I had to travel interstate or overseas to compete or to attend courses, he was graciously understanding, recognising what a fantastic opportunity it was for me. Supporting my decisions, reassuring me that he would be there waiting for my return with open, loving arms.

  Thomas took me and all my insane quirks in his stride and without complaint. He was unfazed by my need to be obsessively organised or having to have lists and plans for everything from going on holidays to just taking in a movie. He didn’t tease me for my silly need to plan and have contingencies for all possibilities like Davan and Jaxon did.

  "I'm an accountant I get it. You have to evaluate, assess risks, making sure that you have a sound strategy," he would say, "it's not craziness it's just prudent planning."

  Between Donavan and Thomas, I was a giddily happy girl. Flamboyant and excitable Donavan would indulge my crazy; content with me letting my freak flag fly when I needed to, so that I could go home to my wonderful boyfriend Thomas, a calmer, dialled down version of myself. If I could meld their two personalities together, I would have the perfect man.

  Although Thomas and I had been together for the better part of three years, we still weren't living together. We had discussed moving in together and getting married, but we couldn’t decide on where to live, his place or mine and neither of us was in any rush, besides I loved my apartment.

  My apartment, in my opinion, was the most fabulous apartment in the whole damn city and the best part was that I owned it; it was mine, not the banks. I had made my home in a cute little two-bedroom loft style apartment in a converted warehouse building, in the rejuvenated industrial area of the city. What was once an area filled with warehouses and factories was now a vibrant village filled with in-demand apartments, high-end boutiques and hip cafes and restaurants.

  My apartment may have been the smallest of the four on my floor but I loved it and the light filled open-plan design. Light flooded the space through the high windows making the whole space feel as that it was getting inundated with warm, happy love.

  I would sit on the padded window seat with a glass of wine looking out at the wonder of the city by night. I would stare out into the night’s sky getting hypnotised by the sea of twinkling lights or sit sipping a steaming mug of coffee and watch the rain pouring down the high cathedral style windows, as the water droplets went to work washing the city clean. I positively felt blessed to have found my very own little slice of heaven overlooking the city.

  I was obnoxiously happy thinking that things could not get any better. I had my adult life in order and all my goals completed. I had ticked all the boxes, achieved all the milestones to prove to the world that I had made it that I was a success.

  Fantastic job and fulfilling career – Check

  Amazingly supportive boyfriend – Check

  Stunning apartment that I owned – Check

  I was officially a successful adult, loving life, sitting on top of the world.

  Then it all turned to shit.

  Chapter 3 Hedge

  After years of planning, consulting, blood, sweat and actual tears Donavan finally took the plunge, taking Donavan James INC public, listing the company on the stock exchange. I was so proud of my friend and all that he had accomplished. He had worked extremely hard and deserved every success.

  Donavan James INC had been publicly listed for a few months, when the winds of change blew through my perfect life, blowing it apart, again. Then the first hit came.

  *~*~*~* Hit One *~*~*~*

  One bright sunny Wednesday morning in a flurry of flak jackets and standard-issue suits, the Feds stormed into the salon brandishing a warrant for Donavan's arrest and seizure notice for the salon and all its contents. Cookie-cutter government types burst in demanding that all trade activity cease immediately, whether we were in the middle of a service or not.

  Stunned, with a tint brush poised above Jo-Jo, my client’s hair, I addressed the dark-suited man standing in front of me with his badge thrust forward.

  “Excuse me, Agent, what is this about?”

  Completely ignoring me, the man who was clearly in charge began waving the warrant around and addressed the salon in a booming, authoritative voice.

  "Ladies and Gentlemen, can I have your attention please," the stern looking agent continued without waiting for a reply. "I need all of you to stop what you are doing immediately. I have an arrest warrant for Mr Donavan Michael James. The warrant also covers all items pertaining to the business currently within the confines of the establishment, mandating that they are to be seized pending further investigation."

  I placed the tint brush into the colour bowl, pulling off my gloves I stepped forward addressing the agent.

  "What do you mean you have an arrest warrant for Donavan? What is this all about?"

  “And you are?” the agent asked gruffly, looking me up and down.

  “I am the manager here,” I said with more certainty than I felt “What’s going on?” I asked again.

  “Ma’am, Mr James is being investigated for insider trading."
>
  The agent's words rang through the deathly silent salon. Shocked I dropped into a vacant chair as I let the implications of what was said sink in.

  Following a lengthy argument with Agent in Charge Daniels, our poor frazzled looking clients were moved hurriedly out of our high-end salon, complete with an agent escort, to the budget low rent salon across the road. Although it wasn’t ideal, I considered this to be a fairly significant win from the man who has clearly been buzz cutting his own hair since birth, and who wouldn't know the intricate complexities involved in current hair services if they held him at gunpoint!

  My confused and rightfully scared staff attempted to follow our clients to ensure that their services would conclude correctly. I mainly wanted my team to perform their services so that the people who came to us to look fabulous, didn't walk out of the cheesy named ‘Kute Kutz' looking like they had just stepped off the set of an 80's sitcom. Special Agent Green was the most robotic, utilitarian, agent ever to grace the Bureau, had other ideas, however, and blocked our way informing us that we were not permitted to leave until being cleared by Agent in Charge Daniels.

  “What do you mean we can’t leave?” I asked. "We have clients in the middle of chemical services that must remain vigilantly monitored, we can't just abandon them!”

  Very Special Super-Agent Green gave me an annoyed look while talking slowly, clearly thinking that I was just a dumb, simple hairdresser who was obviously uneducated beyond a trade level and therefore was beneath him.

  “It’s just hair colour, Ma’am,” he rolled his eyes sighing in frustration. “You’re not defusing a bomb. I’m sure they’ll be fine,” he scoffed.

  Incredulous gasps and cries of horror came from the staff in answer to his backhanded comments. “Look Agent Green…” I started.

  “That’s Special Agent,” he cut in.

  With a fire blazing in my eyes, I took a deep breath and started again. "Look, Special Agent Green. It is not just hair colour. It's not the same as paint by numbers. There are multiple sophisticated chemical processes involved that have to be monitored to ensure that damage and over-processing don't occur."

  “I’m sure they will be fine,” Very Special-douchebag Green waved his hand dismissively as the bastard had the nerve to roll his eyes at me.

  He looked like he wanted to pat me on the head and that he was thinking ‘awe, the poor simple little hairdresser couldn't possibly understand what the grown-ups were discussing.’

  "Now see here!" I began my hackles well and truly up at his rude attitude.

  "Ma'am you need to step back and take a seat, or I'll be forced to arrest you for obstruction."

  “You’re going to what!” I screeched, while several of the staff grabbed me by the arms and none-too-gently shoved me into the nearest chair before I did something stupid.

  "Boss, please!" My team collectively begged scared witless. "We need you. We don't know what to do," the look of fear on their faces took the fight right out of me.

  With my butt firmly planted in a chair and the salon cleared of all clients, the agents got to work. It all happened so fast; it was scary, intimidating and chaotic. The worst part of it all was that no one would answer our questions. I, along with the rest of the staff assembled, sitting on the styling chairs in the centre of the salon floor that the agents moved away from their stations. We all sat in stunned silence watching helplessly as they unceremoniously destroyed my home away from home.

  And you want to know the worst part?

  The worst part was Seeley Booth was nowhere to be seen!

  Damn you ‘Bones’ for setting unrealistic expectations for the hotness levels of government officials.

  We seemed to be sitting there for hours before Agent in Charge Daniels decided that it was about time we knew what the hell was going on. We all sat numbly in shock as A.C. Daniels explained the warrant obtained was for Donavan's arrest for insider trading and embezzlement. The bored monotone, monochromatic agent revealed that money was missing from the company, and so was Donavan, so naturally, he was prime suspect Number one.

  I guess being a millionaire, many times over, was not enough for him - selfish asshole!

  "What is happening?" our sixteen-year-old, first-year apprentice Alice asked her face pale with fear. “Why hasn’t anyone come back? What do you think they’re going to do with us?” She asked on the brink of tears.

  "It'll be okay sweetie,” I said, trying to sound reassuring and confident. "I'm sure everyone is perfectly fine," taking her hand, attempting to provide the scared kid what little comfort I could.

  “I don’t even know anything,” she whisper-hissed at me. “Why… Why would they want to talk with me?” She asked panicked tears welling in her eyes.

  "Excuse me, but what is happening? Where is everyone? Why has nobody come back?" I asked the agents, who had returned to collect their next victim. I had started calling them ‘Thing one and Thing two’ in my head because they looked so much alike.

  “Ma’am please just sit quietly and wait your turn,” Thing one said.

  "No, answer me, you're scaring people," I replied standing. I wasn't about to let some jerk in a suit stand-over me in some bullshit attempt to intimidate me.

  Thing two chimed in, "Ma'am you have been asked to wait your turn. Now, sit down."

  “No, I will not sit down, you are scaring people especially Alice,” I said pointing at the girl before putting my hands on my hips. “Tell us what is happening and why no one has come back?”

  “Ma’am, I am not going to tell you again. Sit down!”

  Begrudgingly, I sat down and watched with growing unease as each staff member was addressed individually with an impersonal, "Come with me please," and then escorted, flanked by two agents, down the corridor towards the locker room, with looks on their faces like they were being sent to face the gallows. I sat there watching as the pool of staff scattered around the salon slowly dwindle, the rest of us left behind waiting to discover our fate.

  I couldn’t help but find the whole situation funny, not funny ha-ha more, funny-surreal. It was like some twisted version of ‘Survivor’ except there were no touches; no pleading your case, no votes, no coming back for the finale, you were just booted off the island, never to be heard from again.

  "What is happening I don’t even know anything. I’m just a first-year apprentice, I’m not even allowed to count the till at the end of the day by myself. I know nothing!” she hissed at me starting to hyperventilate. “Why… Why would they want to talk with me?”

  “Alice honey, don’t worry you’re sixteen.”

  “So?” She looked at me like I had lost my mind.

  "So, you're a minor. You can’t be interrogated legally without a parent or guardian present."

  Relief washed over her face as she visibly relaxed a little, that was until Thing One, and Thing Two came back into the room.

  “Come with us please,” the agent said addressing Alice.

  “Yeah that is not going to happen,” I said placing my hand over Alice’s that had a death grip on the armrest of her chair.

  Ignoring me the agent again said, “come with us please.”

  I stood as Alice started to visibly tremble. I placed a hand on her shoulder keeping her in her chair and addressed the two men, “Alice will not be going anywhere.”

  “Ma’am that’s it I’ve had just about enough of you. Step aside, or I will arrest you.”

  I can’t stand bullies, and that’s exactly what this guy is a bully if he thinks he can intimidate me he has another thing coming. The macho bullshit might work on other women, but it’s wasted on me, if this guy even tries to arrest me I’ll make him wish he rethought that plan because I am not going down without a fight.

  “I’d like to see you try,” I snarled.

  “What’s going on here?" Agent in Charge Daniels asked as he strutted back to the salon floor. Seeing me standing and facing off with the two agents he shook his head, sweeping his open jacket aside to re
veal his badge and gun holster as he anchored his hands on his hips. “Oh, it’s you,” he sighed shaking his head. “What seems to be the problem now?”

  “Well, you and your automatons here …" I said indicating at the two emotionless agents standing in front of me "… Are collecting staff members taking them off to God knows where and they're not coming back," my voice rising along with my frustration and worry. "You're scaring the shit out of people; now tell us what the hell is going on.”

  “Well, Ma'am," Agent in Charge Daniels replied through gritted teeth, "each member of staff will be questioned individually then they will be allowed to collect their personal belongings, and then they are escorted out the back door." We stood toe to toe eyeing each other. "Now unless you have anything else you would like to say?" I shook my head in response. "Excellent. Kid, you’re up,” he finished, indicating to Alice that she should follow.

  “What? No Alice, do not move,” I said stepping in front of her.

  “What now?” Agent in Charge Daniels asked wearily.

  “Alice is only sixteen you can’t question her alone.”

  “I am aware of that, what being a Federal Agent and all. Her parents are waiting for her at the back door to take her home. I am merely going to take her to her locker and then to her parents, so, unless you have any further objections. Will you, please, let me do my job?"

  “Fine,” I said turning around to give Alice a reassuring hug and taking a little comfort for myself. “It’s okay Alice go with Agent Daniels, you’re going home honey.”

  “It’s Agent in Charge Daniels,” he muttered as he walked off towards the corridor, Alice trailing behind with Thing One and Thing Two bringing up the rear. Leaving me sitting all alone in the empty salon worried waiting for judgement to be handed down, awaiting my fate.

  As the salon manager and the fact that Donavan and I were so close both at work and away, I was grilled up and down for hours.