JINGLE JANGLE

JINGLE JANGLE

Zach was on the interstate, making his six-hour drive home from college for the summer. He had just finished his junior year and although he was glad that his classes and finals were behind him, he wasn’t looking forward to living under his parents’ roof again for the summer. At college he could do as he pleased–party, stay out all night, raise hell, get drunk, whatever he wanted at any time. At home he had to toe the line or he’d get a load of grief from Mom and Dad.

Zach was a good-looking kid, tall, blond, athletic and popular at school. He was majoring in journalism, had a good grade point average, contributed to the campus newspaper and radio station and was the starting third baseman for the baseball team. Coming home only cramped his style.

He was now looking forward to three months of the same things he’d done the previous two summers: working nights in a busy warehouse and helping to coach his little brother’s baseball team. His brother Jeff was fourteen years old and played in the county Senior League.

The team was managed by Dan, father of Danny Jr., who was Jeff’s best friend and lived three doors down. Dan was an easy-going guy in his mid-thirties who worked for the State Roads Commission and had coached both boys since they were in the Midget League. His wife was Barb, the perpetual team mother and a hairdresser by trade. Zach could remember times when all the neighborhood kids lined up at her kitchen door for free haircuts when she would hold occasional ‘Haircut Saturdays’.

Zach had always liked Dan and Barb. They were kind, down-to-Earth working people, although a bit of an odd couple; they were total opposites. Dan was a laid-back, soft-spoken pipe smoker, kind of rough edged with a plain face and a pot belly. He never said much unless he drank too much. Barb, on the other hand, was an attractive frizzy-haired blonde with a perky, likeable personality and a quick wit, plus a killer body she’d kept in great physical shape. Zach had always thought she was pretty hot. Hell, everybody did.

Zach pulled his car into the driveway. No one was home. It was early afternoon so Jeff would still be in school and his parents at work. His mother Meg worked as a nurse practitioner and his father Joe was a civil engineer. He let himself into the house and unpacked his filled-to-the-max car and moved all of his stuff into his old bedroom. He threw a load of dirty laundry into the washing machine and then went out back and dove into the pool. He swam a few laps before climbing out and lying on a lounge chair.

He was proud of the backyard. His parents had done a great job designing it, he thought, from the large lanai to the outdoor kitchen and bar, screened pool and Jacuzzi, even a gazebo. They loved to entertain and often held parties and get-togethers for their friends and family.

Jeff got home from school and came in the front door yelling for Zach because he’d seen his car out front. Zach was in the laundry room downstairs. He was moving his clean clothes into the dryer and throwing another dirty load into the washer.

They greeted each other and then went out in the yard and played a game of catch. They talked about the baseball team and how they were doing so far. The season had started a couple weeks before. Jeff said they looked pretty good, had won three and lost one so far, and the one they’d lost was in extra innings.

“We should have won,” Jeff said. “But our right fielder missed a routine pop fly and by the time he caught up to the ball the hitter was rounding third and headed home. Lost 3-2.”

“Ooh, that’s a tough one,” Zach said. “It’s easier to forget the blowouts than tough losses like that.”

“We need you coachin’,” Jeff said. “Mr. Dan just sits there most of the time, and doesn’t say much. We need you coachin’ third and pumping us up.”

“I’ll call Mr. Dan tonight and let him know that I’m back. If he wants me, I’ll be there.”

“Oh, he wants you, alright. Danny told me he’s mentioned it a bunch of times.”

Their mother came out of the back of the house.

“There’s my baby!” she hollered as she hustled over to give Zach a hug.

Meg squeezed her older son tightly and kissed his cheeks.

“Oh, it’s so nice to see you, Honey. Welcome home,” she said. “How was the drive?”

“Smooth sailing,” Zach said.

“Good. I’m cooking lasagna tonight, so I hope you’re hungry.”

“I’ll eat it, don’t you worry.”

Meg stepped back and looked at him.

“My, do you ever need a haircut!” she said looking at him. “You need to go see Mrs. Barb.”

Zach knew she was right. He hadn’t had it cut since before Christmas.

“Ma!” Jeff whined from sixty feet away. “We’re trying to play catch!”

“Yeah, I know,” Zach said. “I’ll call and make an appointment.”

“Glad you’re home, Zach,” she said.

Meg went into the kitchen to start dinner. The boys finished playing catch.

—-

Zach called Dan after supper.

“I was hoping you’d get home before the weekend,” Dan said. “I need ya. We look okay so far but we need a practice on some of the fundamentals. It’s set for Saturday morning. That’s where you come in.”

“Oh, what fundamentals are those?” Zach asked. “Right fielders shagging flies?”

“Oh, Jeff told you how we lost, huh? Maybe that too. But mostly bunting, base running, rundowns, cutoffs. All the fun stuff. And the kids seem to focus better when they know a real college player is talking and not the same ole dad they’ve been listening to for six-seven years.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan. I’m anxious to get started again. Oh, and is Miss Barb around? Tell her I need a haircut bad, and I’ll be making an appointment.”

“I’ll tell her. See you Saturday,” Dan said.

Zach hung up and called the salon. The gal who answered the phone said Barb worked the next day. He scheduled an appointment for mid-afternoon.

—-

First thing the next morning Zach called his employer. He’d worked there for three straight summers and they were always glad to have him back. They told him to come in and sign everything and he would start the following Monday.

Zach took a shower and shampooed his golden locks. He dressed casual but neat and went to fill out the paperwork for his job. He grabbed some lunch and went to a bookstore and bought a couple paperbacks. He did some reading and browsed until it was time for his hair appointment.

He got to the salon a little early and checked in. He took a seat with a good view of Barb. She had worked at this place for years so she had a choice workspace near the back and had an old guy in her chair. She looked good as usual, her slim body dressed in a black zippered smock with sleeves to her elbows, black tights on her legs and black flats on her feet. Her blond curls danced on her shoulders as she moved to and fro, snipping away.

He always liked going to Barb for haircuts. She looked good, smelled good and took her time, fussing over every little edge, evening it here and there, making sure it looked just so.

Another thing about Barb that Zach liked was that she wore very little makeup, only a subtle touch around the eyes and polished nails. But jewelry was a different story. She always wore a lot of jewelry: head-to-toe necklaces, rings, bracelets, earrings, you name it. Even as he looked at her from his chair in the waiting area at the front he could see gold chains dangling from her earlobes, bracelets and bangles on both her wrists, rings on most of her fingers and ankle bracelets. He wondered how much more he couldn’t see.

Finally Barb pulled the sheet off of the old man and he rose out of his chair. He preened in front of the mirror for a moment before they walked up front to the cash register. He paid, said thanks and walked past Zach and out the door.

“Okay, who’s next?” Barb called out loudly, pretending to look at the appointment schedule on the counter. “Do we have a Zach?” She looked at him and grinned.

Zach stood up and walked toward her and Barb came around the counter and gave him a hug.

“Hi, Zach, welcome home,” she said. “You look great! How are you doing?”

“I’m good, how are you?”

“Good, come on back,” she said.

Zach took his seat and Barb covered him and wrapped the paper strip around his collar. Barb smelled good, just like he remembered, like fresh flowers. As she readied her tools they made small talk: How’s school, how’s the family, all that jazz. Then Barb turned to him and was ready to get started.

She cocked her head and looked at him for a moment, and lifted his hair and let it flop back down.

“Zach, I have to say, you’ve certainly grown into a handsome young man,” she said. “But damn boy, do you ever need a haircut!”

“I know, I know,” he said sheepishly. “That’s why I’m here. Do your magic.”

“Magic? I might need a weed whacker for this mess!” She ran her fingers through his hair on both sides of his head. “How do you want it cut?”

“The usual. If you can remember.”

“How could I forget a head like yours?” she said.

Barb started with electric clippers on the sides, muttering ‘God, you need a haircut!’ several times.

“So how’s your mom? I haven’t talked to her lately.”

“She’s fine, said to say Hi,” he said. “Are you coming to her ladies party again this summer? It’s three weeks away.”

“Oh sure, that’s always fun. All the girls look forward to it.”

Every year on the Saturday after Memorial Day Meg threw her Ladies First Pool Party. She invited all of her women friends, coworkers and neighbors. It started mid-afternoon and none of their men were allowed to show up until dusk, by which time most of the ladies were half in the bag. Then an almost-anything-goes party ensued.

“Oh good,” Zach said. “I’ll be sure to show up and check out the scenery. I hope you’re going to wear that skimpy bikini you had on last year.”

“Oh no, I don’t think so. But I have another one you might like.”

“That’s good. You gotta let that hot body out! Not hide it behind that black cloak you have on. Makes it hard to visualize what’s underneath.”

“I’m working, Zach. Besides you’re not supposed to be visualizing what I have underneath. You should be looking at the mirror, not the hairstylist’s butt!”

He looked up at the mirror in front of him. Barb had stopped work for a second and was looking right into his eyes via the mirror with a playful smile on her face. She went back to work.

They didn’t say much for a while. Zach closed his eyes as Barb’s scissors pranced around his forehead. In his mind he held the image of her tanned, toned nearly-naked body in her scanty swimsuit, and how it plastered itself like shrink wrap to her tits and crotch and ass when she’d get out of the water. He opened his eyes and in the mirror watched her skilled hands, with rings on seven fingers, flitting this way and that as she scissored away, accompanied by the tinny rattling of the multiple bracelets and bangles on both her wrists.

In the mirror Zach watched the hair on his head slowly take shape. He wanted it to last; he loved the sensation of Barb so close, doting on him, the feel of her fingers against his scalp, the gentle pressure of her palms on his neck when she applied a hot towel. But eventually she pulled the cover off of him.

“There,” she said, “All done, another masterpiece.”

“That looks good, Barb. You are an expert weed whacker!”

“See you again in a year or two,” she laughed.

“No, I’ll be back before that,” he said as he got up. “I’ll come to see you whether I need it or not.”

They walked to the register to check out. Zach handed her some bills which included a large tip and said he didn’t want any change.

“Oh Zach, wait, this is way too much,” Barb said.

“No it isn’t,” he said. “Weed whacking pays good.” He leaned closer and added softly, “Put the extra money toward buying the skimpiest bikini you can find.”

Barb’s lips twisted into a flirty smile.

“Well, thank you, Zach. Maybe I will,” she said, and winked at him.

—-

The next morning was Saturday so Zach went to baseball practice and tried to whip the boys into shape. He was glad to see that they weren’t bad at all, just rusty on some of the mundane finer points. The practice was boring for the kids but by the end they were all hustling and working together and whipping the ball around pretty good.

Monday night he started his job. He knew the drill pretty well, having done it in past summers. He liked the night shift because of the pay differential and it was much more laid-back and less hectic than day or evening shifts. There were no trucks coming and going, loading and unloading. He just had to fill, pack and stack orders for the day workers to ship out in the morning.

Tuesday evening they had a ballgame. He was hoping Barb would be in the stands like she often was, but she wasn’t. He knew she worked a couple evenings each week so he guessed she was at work. That helped Zach concentrate on the game, which they won 6-5 when Jeff drove in the winning run with a line drive single to center in the bottom of the seventh.

The next game was Thursday, and Barb was there. She sat on the top row of the temporary bleachers behind the third base dugout. He spotted her and waved to her from the coach’s box and she waved back at him. He took off his cap and ran his hand through his hair a few times, pointed at his head and gave her a thumbs-up. She grinned and gave him the A-OK with her thumb and forefinger.

She looked sexy as hell in blue denim cutoffs and a flowery halter top. Her hair was pulled back and she looked much younger than mid-thirties. They were both wearing dark sunglasses so it was hard to know if she could tell he was checking her out constantly throughout the game. She smiled at him a few times when he looked at her, so Zach figured she had him pegged. Then again, maybe she’s checking me out too, he thought. Then at the end of the sixth inning he looked up and she was gone.

Over the next four games Barb made it it to a couple but she usually came after the game had started and left before it was over, so they never got a chance to talk and Zach had to settle for espying her from afar.

Then they had a game against the team they were battling for first place, which happened to be the same team they had lost to before when their right fielder had blown the fly ball. Barb showed up in the second inning and she didn’t leave early this time. The game was a real nail-biter, a pitcher’s duel and a scoreless tie going into the bottom of the seventh, the last inning of regulation. Danny Jr. led off the inning with a bloop single and took second base on a wild throw. Then Zach gave the bunt sign to the next batter and Danny got to third base on the sacrifice. Now with one out, a fly out could win the game. Jeff came to the plate.

“On the second pitch, take off for home as soon as the pitcher releases the ball,” Zach whispered to Danny. Danny smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

This was a drill Zach and Jeff had practiced before. Zach gave his little brother the sign to not swing at the first pitch. A curve for strike one. Then he gave him the bunt sign: The Suicide Squeeze. The pitcher rocked on the rubber and went into his windup.

“GO!” Zach said sharply, as the pitcher threw the ball, and Danny took off.

Jeff held back a split second before squaring to bunt and caught the fielders off guard. Danny was running home. It was an outside fastball and Jeff laid down a perfect bunt to the right side between first base and the mound. The pitcher and first baseman both scrambled to the ball and got there at the same time, each getting in the way of the other. The first baseman had the better angle and picked it up, bobbled it, and threw late to home.