 | El Cuento de el Cepillo Para el Pelo
(The Tale of the Hairbrush)
by Mr. “Mr. Kipper” Kipper
He could see it below him, orbiting Jupiter like a rolling billiard ball, mocking him with its lack of features. Smooth and almost perfectly round, Europa stared at him from its silent vigil. Sergio sucked his teeth unhappily. He had hoped to avoid this forboding chunk of moon and continue on his journey back to Earth, but his hair was long, unruly, and had gone a disgustingly long time without being washed. The fact was that he needed a haircut. Even his wonderful green plastic-and-rubber hairbrush could no longer tame his reviling mane of limp curls, and he had lost all of his toiletries save for his precious hairbrush on Phrotusroom Kük before he’d even reached the Milky Way. No, there was no getting around it; he would be forced to stop on Europa for a haircut and shampoo. I’ll also buy a toothbrush, he concluded, still sucking his teeth. Unhappily, Sergio entered the coordinates for Europa in the landing computer and settled back in his leather chair.
“Sergio?” a voice floated into the cockpit behind him.
Sergio turned around to see his friend from Callisto. “Yes, what is it?”
“Why are we going to Europa?” the small purple Callistese inquired sweetly.
Sergio sighed mournfully and buried his face in his hands. “I need a haircut,” came his muffled reply.
“Oh, I see,” it nodded understandingly. “But that won’t take very long, will it? We’ll still get back to Earth pretty soon. Won’t we?” Its eyes were enormous and dreadfully shiny as it asked this last question. If Sergio had been of weaker stomach, the concentrated preciousness of the creature might have caused him to vomit.
“Yes, we will,” Sergio assured it. “Just a haircut and a shampoo, then we’ll be on our way.”
“Okay,” the Callistese blinked merrily.
“By the way, what is your name?” Sergio peered quizzically at it. “You saved me back on Callisto and I still don’t know.”
“I am called Poco Extraterrestre Púrpura Quién Salva a Gente en Señal de Socorro,” it answered cheerfully. “But you can just call me Po.”
“Okay.... Po,” Sergio responded, scratching the back of his neck. Europa loomed closer out the window, steadily growing to fill the window until Sergio and Po could see nothing except its almost perfect surface. “Hey!” Sergio exclaimed. “It’s not featurless-- it’s got lines on it!”
“You’re right!” Po gasped. “Cracks, maybe, into the ABYSS!!!”
“What if they don’t have any barber shops on Europa?” Sergio fretted, seeming to have already forgotten the cracks of doom.
“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it,” Po declared proudly.
Sergio pondered this for a moment. “Right,” he confirmed at long last.
The gravity of the sizable moon was starting to tug gently on the ship. Within seconds the tug had become more insistant, then it became a determined yank. Sergio’s ship, the mighty Inquietante Espejismo, was dragged downward toward the icy sphere.
“Here we go!” Sergio crowed, popping a football helmet on over his gruesome hair. “Prepare for landing, First Mate Po!”
Po did not look so lighthearted. “Um, Sergio, we’re going to miss the surface!”
“Hunh? What are you on about?” Sergio raised an eyebrow and swivelled around in his chair.
“We’re heading for one of the CRACKS!” Po shrieked. “Before you know it we’ll be crashing parties in the fifth circle of Hell!!”
Sergio fell out of his chair. “There must be something we can do!”
“It’s too late!” Po screamed. “The gravity has us in its murderous raging clutches! There’s nowhere to go but DOWN!”
“You’re not helping!” Sergio yelled frantically as he pressed buttons randomly in a vain effort to save himself and his companion.
Before Po could say anything else encouraging, the ship disappeared into the crack with a very insignificant *thwip*. Europa took no notice as it dutifully followed its path around Jupiter. All was silent.
* * *
A metallic creak echoed hollowly throughout the chamber. Then silence. A score of sentient beings crept stealthily towards the unmoving metal vessel, waiting to see if it lived yet or if it was dead.
A pale, elongated green hand snaked out to feel the hull, but with a spark and an electric crackle, the hand was prevented from reaching it. “Undomiel!” the creature yelped, jumping up and down. “Naur dan i ngaurhoth! Naur an edraith ammen!”
The beings huddled together for a moment, then began to jump up and down and chant strange words, hooting and shrieking most horribly. At long last a mat of dull and reeking hair emerged from a hole on top of the ship. Sergio’s unwashed face followed after. “Po!” he cried joyously. “We’re alive!” Then, as he tried to climb all the way out, he was thwarted by the unseen barrier and tumbled back down the hatch with a shout and a crash. From outside, after the curses died down, laughter could be heard.
“So that’s why we’re alive,” a cheerful voice bubbled. “You activated the force field!”
A few seconds later, a beep was heard. The ship seemed to be enveloped with an iridescent light for a moment, then it went back to normal. The shield had been deactivated. The first (and, hopefully, foulest) head emerged once again, and this time a body followed. Sergio crawled, energized, out of the hatch and slid down the ship. Po’s adorable purple head popped up within ten seconds and it joined Sergio on the soft, dusty rock they had landed in. It was only then that they looked up and noticed the supposed natives, still jumping and carrying on.
The beings resembled spindly, four-armed, three-eyed humans with skinny and extremely long limbs and light green skin that seemed to glow with its own luminescence. Their eyes were pale and watery in a wide range of colours. All wore shimmering garments that seemed to change hue in different light. The tallest of them stepped forward and extended its spidery hand. “Pedo mellon a minno!” it announced in a high, clear voice.
Sergio looked at the hand for a moment or two uneasily. Finally he grasped it and shook it warmly. The next thing he knew, he was lying on his back, his face smarting.
Sergio jumped up angrily. “You slapped me!” he observed.
The creature’s catlike eyes grew round. “Silivren penna míriel!” it gasped, and stumbled back blindly until it had disappear into the mass of its comrades. Another of the natives stepped forward then and extended its own hand. Sergio looked at it bad-temperedly.
“I’m not going to shake your hand,” he snarled, “you’ll only slap me again! And speak a language I can understand, drat you!”
“All right,” the creature answered sullenly, “if it means that bloody much to you.”
Sergio’s mouth dropped open. “You-- you speak English?”
The group of natives nodded solemnly.
“Then why weren’t you before? You must have known I was speaking it!”
“Well,” said the second one, “we just didn’t much feel like it, I suppose. Besides, we didn’t think you’d be so dim as to not understand the ithilden tongue.”
Sergio was very offended at that, and said so. “I am very offended at that, and I’ll say so!”
“Fine, then,” it shrugged. “Well, let me introduce myself. I’m Daniel, and this is Dameon, Darren, David, Derek, Dean, Delbert, Denny, Dominic, Donald, and Dorian.”
Sergio counted in his head. “Who are the other nine?”
“They’re all named Beverly.”
“Oh,” Sergio acknowledged weakly. Po sat down on the gently undulating rock. Sergio watched Po move up and down as it sat there. “Hey there, Daniel, Dameon, Darren, David, Derek, Dean, Delbert, Danny, Dominic, Donald, Dorian, Beverly, Beverly, Beverly, Beverly, Beverly, Beverly, Beverly, Beverly, Beverly, and Beverly--”
“It’s DENNY, not DANNY,” Denny corrected.
“Right, that’s what I meant, you know. Well, I’d like to know why the ground is moving up and down.”
Daniel stared at him blankly. “It’s floating, of course.”
“Floating?”
“Yes, on Europa’s ocean,” Daniel proclaimed, sweeping its hand out in a wide gesture to indicate everything around them. “The surface is water-ice. Underneath is an ocean and many floating islands. You’re lucky you got through that crack, or you’d be stuck trying to tunnel through six fathoms of ice.”
“Ah! I see,” Sergio returned, trying to sound as if he saw. “Well! Before we get any further, I must tell you why I’m really here. I need a haircut and a shampoo. A good conditioning would be nice, too,” he added, as an afterthought. “Do you know where the closest barber shop is?”
Daniel’s eyes lit up with an unnerving blue gleam. “You really ARE lucky! On this island of Anor Tirith, we’re all hairdressers!”
“Really? All of you are hairdressers?” Po ventured, its charming eyes widening.
“Well, Derek and Dominic are telephone sanitizers,” Daniel admitted. “What kind of hairstyle would you like? Afro? Crew cut? Ponytail? Dreadlocks? How about a completely bald head with maybe a tattoo on it?”
Sergio thought. “An afro would be groovy.”
“You can say that again!” Dean remarked.
“An afro--”
“But please don’t,” it added hastily.
“Okay,” Sergio shrugged amiably. “Which one of you is going to cut my hair?”
“I am!” announced Delbert, stepping forward. “Follow me to my shop, per-lease!” With that the gangly creature set off into the darkness at a quick pace, the others falling into step behind it. Sergio and Po followed, their light footsteps making imprints in the pliant but rocky soil.
* * *
Sergio leaned back in the chair, insufferably happy. The light blue shroud was about his shoulders and his abhorrent locks were soaking in warm water. Delbert examined Sergio’s hair for a moment before pulling out a bottle of extra-strength super-cleansing corrosive-if-used-unwisely Death By Cleanliness brand shampoo and a small package of mild conditioner. Then the skilled hairstylist set to work, wringing the filth from Sergio’s hair and slathering on gobs and gobs of shampoo. It took three rinsings of the sink and an entire bottle of shampoo, but inside fifteen minutes, Sergio’s tresses were squeaky-clean once again. Delbert massaged a sparse amount of conditioner onto the wayward hero’s head and combed the whole mess out meticulously.
“Clean!” the barber announced, thoroughly pleased with itself. “Now, for.... the..... cutting?” Delbert stared open-mouthed at Sergio’s head. “Uhh..... Sergio? Your hair... it’s...”
“What?” Sergio inquired, sitting upright and turning to face the Europan. Then, noticing a curious lack of weight on his head, he turned his head back to the sink and cried out in dismay. All of his wonderful, shiny clean hair was floating in the water, completely without attachment to his scalp. “My hair!” he shrieked. “My hair is gone! I’m bald!”
Delbert’s pale skin had gone even paler. “I’m sorry!” it wailed. “You must have been allergic to something in the conditioner!”
Sergio’s eyes gazed around wildly. “It’ll grow back, won’t it?”
Delbert’s mouth worked silently, but no sound came out. Finally he managed to squeak out an answer. “Err, ahh, well, it’s like this, that is to say... nope.”
Downcast, Sergio fell back into the chair. “At least I won’t have to worry about emergency haircut runs anymore,” he remarked feebly, as his left hand strayed up to his head and ran over its smooth surface in disbelief.
“That’s right,” Delbert coached. “Look on the bright side!”
Sergio smiled a very small smile.
Delbert’s face fell. It rubbed the back of its neck. “Look, I really feel terrible about this. There must be something I can do. Maybe I can help you fix your ship.”
“My ship doesn’t need fixing!” Sergio voiced, startled.
“Actually, I don’t think it’s going to fly in its current state,” Delbert confessed.
“Why not?” Po queried. The precious little Callistese had been flipping through a magazine in the corner and was now starting to pay attention to the conversation.
“Because I saw Beverly and Darren knocking holes in it earlier.”
“AAAHH!!” Sergio hollered. “They knocked holes in the Inquietante Espejismo!!!”
“Don’t worry! We’ll fix them, I promise!”
“All right,” Sergio growled.
“And after we fix them, my comrades and I will equip the Inquietante Espejismo handsomely and send you on your way with our blessing. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
“I guess that’s acceptable.”
“All right!” Delbert exclaimed, clapping two of its hands. “Let’s get to work!” The spindly Europan twirled around on its heels, took Po by the hand (or at least upper appendage), and dashed out the door. Sergio, stealing only a furtive glance at his hair in the sink, followed swiftly.
* * *
A few seconds before he reached the ship, the world around him faded into a trippy mess of psychedelic rainbow colours that pulsated constantly. He looked around in bafflement. “What’s going on?”
“It’s only me, hepcat!” a melodic voice answered him. “Can you dig it? I’m Iris, Hera’s groovy messenger, and I’ve brought you a message from the Queen of the Gods!”
Sergio turned around and beheld Iris, shining among goddesses, clad in a dazzling dress of iridiscent droplets. With a cry he fell facedown.
“No need for that,” she said, sounding amused. “Just-- take this letter, and have a really happenin’ day.” Then she spread her wings and took off, trailing her thousand colours across the sparkling sky. Sergio opened the message and read it.
When pools are black and trees are bare,
With hairbrush gone and lack of hair,
When trusted friend is known to err,
‘Tis evil on this world to fare.
As soon as Sergio finished reading it, it evaporated in his hands. The world around him glistened into frightening clarity and he was back, running towards his ship, with very little recollection of the whole encounter.
* * *
“How soon were you planning on leaving?” Donald asked as it patched one of the Inquietante Espejismo’s many perforations. “Within the next ten thousand years?”
“I’d thought,” Sergio answered. “Why?”
“Well,” Donald explained, “it’s just that since there’s about twenty feet of empty air between the surface of the islands and the layer of ice, and the ocean’s always moving, the islands are only underneath a crack every so often.”
“What are you saying?”
“Anor Tirith’s particular flotation pattern only takes it within easy access of a surface crack every eight hundred years or so. This day of the year is unusual because we pass underneath two cracks, one right after another. We’ll be reaching the next crack in four hours or so. So, what I’m saying is, unless you plan to stay here with us until we get to another crack, you’ll need to be ready then.”
“I think we can manage that,” Sergio nodded, glancing at Po, who also nodded. “Yes, we’ll be ready.”
“Okay,” Donald affirmed. “I just wanted to make sure you knew, that’s all.”
“Thank you,” Sergio replied absent-mindedly, his brow furrowed as he concentrated on hammering out one of the dents. Po, sitting nearby, munched a carrot.
An hour came and went, and with all twenty of the Anor Tirith Europans’ help, the ship was good as new. After bestowing on him what gifts they had that he could use without any hair, they fed him a hearty supper and bid him farewell. After the feast, two hours remained before the crack would be reachable. Daniel told him that this crack was an especially narrow one; since there wasn’t really enough space for the Inquietante Espejismo to fly anywhere but straight up, he would have to time it exactly right if he wanted to make it off Europa that century.
After taking a long, luxurious bath at David’s house and washing off at least a month’s worth of dirt, he was ready to get back on his ship and await the time of his departure. Po accompanied him as he climbed back inside. Sergio sighed happily. He was back on his ship, he was clean, he was going home. It was just him, Po, and his hairbrush. Wait a minute-- where was his hairbrush?
Terrified, Sergio scanned the room for some sign of the green brush, but it was nowhere to be seen. I know I left it right on the chair! he screamed inwardly. He set to work opening all the drawers, dumping out their contents, and sifting through them. He frantically searched the food stores and the smuggling compartment-- no hairbrush. With only twenty minutes remaining before the crack would appear, Sergio clambered out of the Inquietante Espejismo and ran to Daniel, who was standing nearby and chatting with Beverly. “Where’s my hairbrush?!” Sergio pleaded, grabbing Daniel by two of its shoulders and shaking it wildly. “Have you seen my hairbrush?! It’s green and plastic! And it has a rubber handle! Please, I can’t leave without it!”
Daniel seemed to understand. It pondered for a moment, then blinked all three of its eyes. “I think I saw it back there!” it hollered triumphantly, pointing to Beverly’s barber shop.
Sergio clasped his hands together. “Oh, thank you!” Then, with inhuman speed, the heroic wanderer ran like a gunshot to Beverly’s shop. As he burst inside, he turned to Beverly in a frenzy. “Is my hairbrush here? Daniel said it saw it!”
Beverly looked confused. “What do you need a hairbrush for? You don’t have any hair!”
Sergio stumbled back with a wild gasp of terror. It was true! He didn’t have any hair! But... how could he just leave his hairbrush behind? No, it meant far too much to him. He couldn’t leave it on Europa. “I don’t know why I need it,” he begged desperately, “but is it here?”
“It was here,” Beverly said thoughtfully, “but it’s gone. I think somebody took it.”
“Where?!” Sergio demanded, snatching three of Beverly’s hands pleadingly.
“To Dean’s shop!” it answered, pointing with its remaining hand. Sergio legged it over to the shop in mention.
“Is my hairbrush here?!” he inquired wretchedly as he crashed inside.
Dean looked up in shock. “No, it isn’t here,” it replied. “Try Beverly’s!”
“I already did!” Sergio cried in despair.
“Not Beverly’s, BEVERLY’S!”
“Ohhh!!!” Sergio smacked his head and ran to Beverly’s. As he opened the door and jumped inside, he yelped out his question once again. Beverly informed him that his hairbrush wasn’t there and he ought to try Beverly’s. Just as Sergio ran to do so, he heard a slight voice wafting over the chill air.
“Sergio?”
He turned around. The voice belonged to Po. “What’s the matter, Po?”
Po stared at the ground and drew circles in the dirt with its feet. “I..... I.... I just have something that I ... need to tell you.”
Impatiently, Sergio waited. Po still didn’t speak. “Could you please hurry it up, Po?!” he demanded. “I have to find my hairbrush and there are only ten minutes left!”
“It’s about your hairbrush,” Po wailed. “It’s just that.... well, you never used it... and now... you don’t really need it, so.... so....I’m sorry! I didn’t know! But.....”
“What? What is it?” Sergio’s eyes shone with a distraught searching light.
“I gave it to Beverly,” Po confessed, bursting into tears. “Because it’s got hair.” Then, weeping, Po ran back into the ship.
Sergio crumpled to the ground in a miserable heap, feeling a deep sense of loss. “It’s not fair,” he sobbed. “My poor hairbrush!”
Just then, he heard soft footsteps in front of him. Sergio lifted up his bald head unhappily and found himself staring into two eyes. They belonged to Beverly.
“Thanks for the hairbrush,” Beverly said quietly.
Sergio felt something come to life within him. Yes, good has been done here! he told himself. “You’re welcome,” he said, climbing to his feet. Beverly turned to go, but, still feeling an emotional attachment for the hairbrush, Sergio called out after it as it went. “Take care of my hairbrush!” he implored. “And nice hair!”
Then, weary but alive with an odd energy, Sergio turned around and began to climb into the Inquietante Espejismo. Just as he was about to close the hatch, he heard Delbert’s yell behind him. Looking back with the knowledge that he only had about four minutes, he saw Delbert waving a bottle around madly and beckoning Sergio to come down.
“I found something very, very special in the island’s vault!” Delbert blurted out as soon as Sergio was near enough to hear. “I was looking for more presents to give you when I found-- this!” It shoved a bottle of weird-looking orange goo in Sergio’s face. The worn label on it read Instant Afro.
“What’s this?” Sergio queried in confusion.
“It’ll make your hair grow back!” Delbert informed him excitedly. “In only twenty seconds, you’ll have a full head of hair! And THIS variety will make your hair grow back in a perfect afro!”
“Really?!” Sergio cried out joyfully, clutching the bottle and staring at it with shining eyes.
“Yes! But we have to hurry. There isn’t much time,” Delbert said hurriedly. “Here, give it to me.” The pale Europan popped open the bottle and squirted out a good bit of it on Sergio’s head, then rubbed it in with gloved hands. Within seconds Sergio felt a strange tingling on his head, then all at once golden locks exploded and began to curl in a ridiculously long and infinitely desirable afro. Sergio could have laughed with pure joy.
“And take this with you,” Delbert beseeched him, pressing a small package wrapped in green paper into Sergio’s hands. “As a token of our appreciation for stopping by and visiting us. You have no idea how long it’s been since we had a guest.”
“You’re welcome!” Sergio exclaimed, his hand poised to rip off the paper.
“No!” Delbert adjured him immediately. “Not ‘til you’ve made it off safely.”
“Thank you! I won’t!” Sergio called, already running back to his ship at full speed. The fissure, one of just a few that marred Europa’s sleek face, was in sight.
“Take care, Sergio! You have our thoughts and blessings forever!” Delbert shouted after him. The last sight Sergio saw of that island was all twenty Anor Tirith Europans standing together and waving at him exultantly. Then, with ten seconds before the crack would be altogether inaccessible, the Inquietante Espejismo lifted off the ground and spiraled gracefully upward, leaving Europa behind in a starlike glimmer as it exited the sphere that now appeared glassy and uniform once again.
When he was a bit out into space and had made sure Po knew he wasn’t mad at it, he eagerly opened the package Delbert had given him and shrieked with delight when he saw its contents. There, in the sparkling green paper, lay a delicate blue hairbrush: a thing of beauty. Sergio thought of his old green hairbrush for a moment. Then, doing his best to put his past behind him, he picked up the new hairbrush and carressed it gently. Then he brushed his hair. And life was good.
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