My mother was waiting for me when I walked in the front door. “Strip,” she instructed me.
I hung my head as I pulled off my Red Sox baseball hat, followed by my T-shirt, then my shorts. I left on my underwear and my socks. My mom scooped the clothing into a plastic bag, then to my surprise, she tossed the whole thing into the fireplace, where they were quickly devoured in flames.
“What are you doing?” I shouted.
“They’re all contaminated,” she hissed at me. “You can’t just wash them?”
She glared at me. “Maybe if you washed yourself better, you wouldn’t be covered in lice.”
I should have been able to guess what she would do next, but it still came as a surprise when she whipped out the razor. I took a step back. “No,” I said.
“If you don’t hold still, half your scalp is coming off too.”
In the end, I let her do it. My hair was already very short, only about half an inch from my skull, but it felt different to be shaved bald. My head felt cold.
She put me in the shower after that. She watched me bathe, cranking the heat up so high that my skin turned bright red. She didn’t leave until she watched me soap myself up. Then she finally left. Maybe to burn the rest of my clothing.
After I finished showering, I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror.
My scalp was so white. And round. I looked like an alien.
I went to my bed and lay down on the bare mattress, because the sheets had been stripped. I’m sure my mom meant for me to put on a new sheet, but I didn’t feel like it. Snowball wandered into the room and peered up at me curiously. I reached out to stroke her white fur, hoping it might comfort
me, and she hissed at me. Even though she was just a cat, my mother had taught her to hate me. Snowball would never be shorn like I was.
I wanted to wear a baseball cap to school the next day, but they weren’t allowed in the school, so I had to take it off when I entered the building. As I walked into the room, everybody started laughing. A note had gone home in our backpacks yesterday that a child in the class had been diagnosed with lice. My shaved head made it obvious it was me.
Ever since the beginning of the year, Bryan McCormick had made my life miserable. As soon as recess started, he came up to me with his buddies, and I knew I was in for it. He got right in my face.
“We all knew it was you,” Bryan said. “You’re the one with the cooties.”
I looked away. Tried to ignore him like my dad told me to. “I bet they’re all over your body too,” he said.
I felt my face turning red.
He laughed. “I bet they’re even in your mouth.” “Shut up, asshole,” I mumbled under my breath.
He raised his eyebrows. “What did you just say to me, loser?” I lifted my eyes. “You heard me.”
“Yeah?” He took a step closer to me. “Well, maybe you should take it back.”
He wanted to fight, and that was fine with me. My hands balled into fists. I was small, but I was strong. I pulled back my right arm.
