Aaron liked to consider himself a personal-stylist. His friends and family would ask him from time to time about work, so that was what he told them at least. “I do a little bit of everything, and provide services to get my clients ready for big events.”
“Sounds important, Aaron,” they would say.
Uncle Jack once asked if his clients were whiny business pricks, and Aaron chuckled and simply replied: “they’re all quite polite, actually.” The job wasn’t what he had in mind, fresh out of barber school, but it was consistent and paid well. He preferred to talk and joke more, but it worked for now.
Aaron gently poured water over Lucas’ head and the last of the suds washed out of his hair. He liked to know his clients on a first name basis. They were people after all. Next, he shaved his face clean, careful not to cause a nick or any other irritation. A little foundation on the face and he had cleaned up nicely. Lucas just stared up, and looked relaxed. Aaron got up and stretched before walking across the room to rummage through his backpack. He pulled out an apple and took a bite. “So it’s time to suit up,” Aaron mentioned, and took another bite. Lucas didn’t reply.
The family had left a nice black pinstripe suit with a red tie for Lucas to wear. The suit fit him snug, like a European fit, but the man looked damn good. “Well Lucas, I’m impressed. I may have to finally get something nicer like this. This suit is to die for.” Lucas ignored him. Aaron laced up the last shoe and rolled Lucas into the walk-in refrigerator. He re-emerged and picked up his clipboard from his desk. Lucas Herrer, 26, had died of a heroin overdose. His service would be in two days at a nearby church. “What a shame. Nicest family,” he thought to himself. At least he would look good.
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