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“Hey! George! Has anyone seen George?!? Hey, everybody, George is missing!!!” 

The other hairs stopped what they were doing and turned their full attention to Sam. He was frantically searching, but George could not be found. 

“Well, he was here a few minutes ago,” observed Fredrick. “I saw him before we bathed in the waterfall.” 

All the hairs looked at each other with resigned recognition of what had happened to their friend George. Before long they were all whispering to each other as Sam bent over in uncontrollable grief. One by one each hair tried to console him, while at the same time, being fully aware of their own mortality. 

Over the years life had been good on The Great Scalp. Each one had respected the other’s space and had become close friends. Together they had seen the good days and helped each other survive the bad ones. 

One of the worst was the invasion of The Lice, or as it later became known, the Lice Age. When the invaders first struck, many of the hairs panicked and screamed for help.  This was when The Great Scalp was much younger and the follicles were at their strongest. The hairs violently shook themselves, but The Lice were securely attached and could not be shaken loose. Even to this day Fredrick and the others could remember how violated they had felt as the invaders clung to the individual shafts. Then The Lice started laying eggs. All could feel the impending doom as they helplessly watched The Lice take control of their precious world. When it looked as if all was lost, The Great Scalp was thoroughly washed in the familiar waterfall and coated with medicine that eradicated The Lice and eventually destroyed their eggs. 

“We’ve seen bad days before,” observed Fredrick as he watched Sam sobbing. “Do you remember when we were invaded during the Lice Age?”

“I’ll never forget that,” reflected Harvey. “I thought our days on The Great Scalp were done for.”

“I remember, too,” offered Sam as he straightened himself and tried to control his weeping. “It took that awful smelling medicine to get rid of them.”

“I don’t know which was worse, The Lice or that medicine,” laughed Harvey. “I almost gag every time I think of the smell.”

“It was bad, but it did the trick,” reflected Fredrick. “Before long we and The Great Scalp were fully restored to a healthy life.”

“Until now,” interjected Sam. “This is worse than The Lice.”

“I don’t think there’s gonna be any miracle medicine to help us out of this,” observed Harvey as he fought back his own tears.

“Poor George,” wailed Sam. “He probably got washed down the drain and is now part of a clump.”

“The same’s gonna happen to us, too,” cried Harvey.

“Now, let’s not get too carried away,” offered Fredrick. “After all, we have good health, and besides, George lived on the edge. That’s not the best place to be.”

“He couldn’t help it,” protested Sam. “That’s where he was placed. He’d lived there for years.”

“I just don’t understand what’s happening,” reflected Harvey. “It wasn’t long ago all I could see was hair. Now, when I look out over The Great Scalp, I can clearly see light and even empty spaces. What’s going on?”

“It appears our way of life is receding,” offered Fredrick.

“Now every time we come out of the waterfall there’s someone else missing,” mused an anxious Sam. “This time it was George. I really liked George.”

“He was a funny guy,” agreed Harvey. “Do you remember the time he had us all laughing during the change to the Silver Age?”

“Yeah, I do,” smiled Sam. “It was when he was half black and half white.”

“We’re not white,” interjected Fredrick. “We’re silver.”

“I know that, Fredrick,” Sam smirked as he rolled his eyes. “But George kept talking about being black and white.”

“He kept saying, ‘Look I’m ebony. No, wait, I’m ivory. No, wait, I’m ebony. No, wait, I’m ivory,’” laughed Harvey.

“He would go on and on about it,” offered Sam. “I was in stitches for days.”

“Me, too,” reflected Harvey.

“Well, I for one failed to see the humor in it,” declared Fredrick. “I’m extremely proud of our heritage and I do not see making light of it.”

“Oh, it was just George being George,” offered Sam. “There’s no harm in laughing at yourself.”

“Like anyone I enjoy humor and a good laugh,” reflected Fredrick. “I just believe we have matured to the point where some things should be held in reverence and not made the object of some off colored joke.”

“Oh, Fredrick, sometimes you get too serious about these things,” offered Harvey. “You can respect something and still laugh about it.”

“It helps keep you from staying serious all the time,” declared Sam. “Humor makes the world shine.”

“Well, we have come too far and through too much to make fun of the Silver Age,” objected Fredrick. “This is our time. This is the time to stand tall and be proud of our lives and our heritage.”

“I’m enjoying the Silver Age,” reflected Sam. “But I enjoyed the colored years, too.”

“As far as I’m concerned that is in the past,” declared Fredrick. “The future is the Silver Age. That’s what I live for.” 

As the days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to months the hairs could see their world steadily receding as time took its toll on The Great Scalp. Every day after spending time in the waterfall another hair would be gone. Through it all, Harvey, Sam, and Fredrick tried to keep their spirits high. 

“Hey, Sam, what you gonna do today?” asked Harvey as he yawned at the dawn of a new day.

“Oh, I think I’ll just ‘follicle’ around,” laughed Sam. “Did you get that? I said ‘follicle’ instead of ‘frolic.’”

“Yeah, that was a good one,” replied Harvey. “It’s got me standing on end.”

“That’s good. That’s good,” Sam said as he continued laughing. “You broke me up. ‘Hair! Hair!’ Uh, I mean, ‘Har! Har!’”

“You two comedians are starting to get on my last nerve,” declared an agitated Fredrick.

“Uh-oh, we’d better settle down,” observed Harvey.

“Yeah, we’ve been shafted,” snickered Sam.

“I’ve had enough of your levity today,” declared Fredrick. “Please conduct yourselves with the proper decorum.”

“Listen, don’t get your root bulb in an uproar,” snarled Harvey. “The day’s just begun. If we want to laugh, then you’ll just have to get use to it.”

“There’s no need for you to get snippy with me,” offered Fredrick.

“Me, get snippy with you?!?” asked a surprised Harvey. “You’re the one always grouchy and irritable. Why don’t you lighten up? You might live longer.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Do I need to?”

“Look, you two, let’s not fight,” pleaded Sam. “I’ve already lost a lot of my friends and I don’t want to lose you two.”

“All right,” sighed Harvey as he looked toward Fredrick.

“I guess I could be a little more understanding,” offered Fredrick. “I’m sorry to be such a grouch.”

“It’s OK,” reflected Harvey as a soft humming sound could now be heard.

“Here comes the Trimmer,” declared Sam. “Get ready to get groomed!” 

Each one stood as straight as he could so as to enjoy the clipping. The Trimmer cut its way across The Great Scalp leaving the hairs feeling fresh and renewed. 

“That was invigorating,” declared Fredrick. “I always grow faster after a visit from the Trimmer.”

“I think I do look good,” laughed Sam.

“And I look quite sporty,” joined in Harvey.

“If I must say so myself, we three do look debonair,” smiled Fredrick. “Of course, I always endeavor to have a suave appearance. It’s part of my charm.”

“If you say so,” smirked Harvey. 

As the three friends delighted in the results of the Trimmer’s visit, a dark shadow appeared overhead. Before any of them could react, The Great Scalp was filled with new, never-before-seen hair. 

“Hey, what’s happening, my brothers?” asked an unfamiliar voice.

“Who are you?” inquired a surprised Sam.

“The name’s Clarence. What’s yours?”

“Uh, I’m Sam, and these are my friends, Fredrick and Harvey.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” declared Clarence.

“Welcome to The Great Scalp,” offered Harvey.

“Why, thank you, Harvey,” replied Clarence. “This looks like a nice place you’ve got here.”

“What are you doing in our neighborhood?” asked Fredrick as he grew increasingly irritable.

“Well, I guess they figured The Great Scalp needed more hair,” replied Clarence. “So, here we are.”

“You’re black,” sneered Fredrick.

“Oooo, give this hair a little dab of mousse for his brilliant observation!” laughed Clarence. The other black hairs joined in the laughter and started hooting at Fredrick’s expense.

“Your rude and crude behavior is exactly what I would expect from your kind,” snarled Fredrick.

“What do you mean by my ‘kind,’ my brother?” Clarence asked as he stopped smiling and the laughing of the others quieted.

“You’re black,” repeated Fredrick.

“Yeah, well, you’re white,” offered Clarence.

“I’m not white,” objected Fredrick. “I’m silver. This is the Silver Age.”

“White—black—silver, what’s the difference?” asked Clarence. “Everybody’s the same. After all, we’re all hair.”

“No, I beg to differ,” declared Fredrick. “We are not like you.”

“You’re gonna have to work with me on this one,” sneered Clarence. “I’m not understanding what you’re trying to say.”

“Then I’ll make it simple so you can understand,” smirked Fredrick. “This is our home. It’s our world. We have deep roots here. You do not. We did not ask for you to come here and we do not want you to stay. Therefore, please take your leave immediately.”

“Now wait a minute, Fredrick,” interrupted Sam. “There’s plenty of room on The Great Scalp for everyone. There’s no need for such talk.”

“Sam’s right, Fredrick,” offered Harvey. “We’ve been losing our friends and to be able to make new ones will be good.”

“No, it will not,” declared Fredrick. “There is nothing good that can come from having black hairs on The Great Scalp. If they’re allowed to stay, then how do we know that other colors will not follow? Why, before long we could have red hair. And heaven forbid, if ever a blonde hair moves in. It would dumb down the whole neighborhood!”

“I’m starting to not like what I’m hearing,” said Clarence louder than he meant.

“I’m not the least bit interested in your likes or dislikes,” offered Fredrick. “You have no roots here and therefore, you’ll have no interest in maintaining the proper decorum. Why anyone would buy a piece of hair and place it on The Great Scalp is beyond my understanding.”

“It’s not our fault we don’t have any roots,” declared Clarence. “We didn’t ask to come here. They stole us away from our homes and stuck us in this rug. You think we liked having that done to us?”

“So, you have no reason for staying here,” surmised Fredrick.

“Now, I know I’m not liking what I’m hearing,” Clarence angrily replied.

“Fredrick, you’re making a lot out of nothing,” protested Sam. “There’s no need for such an attitude.”

“Oh, there is good cause for my concerns,” offered Fredrick. “They come into our world—stay awhile—make a mess and then leave. Then we’ll be left with the chore of restoring everything back to normal.”

“Yeah, that was our plan,” mocked Clarence. “Trash this world and then go on to the next one.”

“See, I told you so,” declared Fredrick. “They’re probably making dandruff as we speak.”

“You’re the biggest flake I know,” shouted an angry Clarence.

“Did you hear that, my dear friends?” asked Fredrick as he looked at Sam and Harvey. “Such outbursts can only come from a curved follicle. We, who have been born from straight follicles, would never strike out in uncontrollable anger.”

“Curved follicles?” pondered Harvey.

“Yes, curved follicles,” repeated Fredrick. “Just take a close look at them. See how they twist and curve. They’re not smooth and straight like us.”

“That doesn’t make a difference,” objected Sam. “They’re hair just like us and we need to respect that.”

“Samuel, my dear friend, you’re letting your liberal views cloud your better judgment,” sighed Fredrick as he straighten with smug assurance. “Please open your eyes and see that there is a fundamental difference between us Silver hairs and the black ones.”

“Yeah, now that I think about it, I agree with you, Fredrick,” sneered Clarence. “We’re not like you.”

“It is the truth,” agreed Fredrick.

“Tell me, Fredrick, do you know what causes white hair?” asked Clarence.

“We’re not white, we’re silver.”

“OK, silver,” corrected Clarence. “Why are you silver?”

“I don’t know,” replied Fredrick. “I haven’t studied that.”

“It’s because the melanin that you once had, that gave you color, has been replaced by air bubbles,” declared Fredrick. “So you see everybody we are different. Fredrick, you’re an air head and we’re not!” 

All the black hairs roared with laughter and broke out into the chant, “Air head! Whitey’s an air head!!” as Fredrick fought to control his anger. Even Sam and Harvey gave way to snickering when Fredrick turned away from them. 

“Look, you imbecile,” yelled Fredrick. “I don’t like you. I don’t like your kind. You bunch of wavy ingrates are black, smelly, and you have no regard for the proper order of things. If you refuse to leave The Great Scalp then I want you keep your distance and never speak to me again.”

“I tell you what,” declared an equally angry Clarence. “I’ll just come over there and yank you and all your silver majesty out of your bulb!”

“Such violent talk!” snarled Fredrick. “I should’ve known to expect such out of your kind!”

“My kind?!? My kind…” 

Clarence’s comments were cut short by the toupee being removed from The Great Scalp. 

“Thank God they’re gone,” breathed a relieved Fredrick. Sam and Harvey just looked at each other in amazed wonderment. All were taken somewhat by surprise when they felt the splash of the waterfall. They rejoiced in bathing in the refreshing soap and shampoo. After leaving the waterfall they bedded down for the night and fell fast asleep. 

The next morning they were awaken by chattering of the hairs around them. Once again, the toupee was in place and Fredrick found himself looking into the smiling face of Clarence and the other black hairs. 

“Well, good morning, my brother,” laughed Clarence. “You’re looking good this morning.”

“I’ve already told you that I didn’t want to talk to you black hairs,” smirked Fredrick. “So, please leave me alone.”

“But, my brother, take a look at yourself,” smiled Clarence. “Why, you’re a blackie, too!”

“What?!?”

“Take a look,” repeated Clarence. 

Sam and Harvey stood in stunned silence as they gazed at a black Fredrick. They turned toward each other, and Harvey muttered, “Sam, you’re black, too.” Sam’s eyes widened and he mouthed, “You are, too.” 

Fredrick slowly looked down his frame and drew back in horror as he realized Clarence was telling the truth. 

“I’m dyed!!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “How could they do this?!?”

“I think you look good,” offered Clarence. “You know black is beautiful.”

“No, it’s not!” protested Fredrick. “I look terrible. This is a travesty.”

“Well, Harvey, I think you look quite smashing,” laughed Sam.

“And you, dear Samuel, are simply stunning,” replied Harvey as he did his best Fredrick imitation.

“This is an outrage!” yelled Fredrick. “I will not stand for it!!”

“I don’t know what you can do about it, dear Fredrick,” laughed Clarence. “You know once you go black, you can’t ever go back.”

“This has got to change,” rambled Fredrick. “It cannot go on like this. This is the Silver Age, not the Black Age!”

“I like the sound of that, the Black Age,” Clarence said as he continued laughing. “We got the power!!”

“Well, if they want to play this game then I’m ready for them,” declared Fredrick. “Let’s see how they like it when I stop up my pore!”

“Don’t do that,” pleaded a shocked Harvey. “You’ll start an infection.”

“I don’t care,” snorted Fredrick. “They asked for it by making me black like a common toupee hair.”

“Yeah, but if you get infected it might spread to the rest of us,” offered Sam. “That’s not fair to us.”

“It ain’t gonna bother us,” chimed in Clarence. “It’s like you said, Fredrick old buddy, we don’t have any roots. So infect yourself all you want.”

“Please don’t do this,” begged Sam. “You’ll just make it bad for all of us.”

“I don’t care,” replied Fredrick. “I told you nothing but bad would come out of black hairs moving into the neighborhood. But you and Harvey wouldn’t listen to me. So, stay out of my way and leave me alone!” 

Sam and Harvey watched in silence as Fredrick proceeded to clog his pore and start a dreaded infection. As the pimple increased in size they turned away from the grossness. It was not long after this that the toupee was once again removed from The Great Scalp. Before the hairs could discuss what was happening, the sound of the Trimmer could be heard. This time it cut everyone as short as they had ever been. Then suddenly, before anyone could react, a new machine roared across The Great Scalp. Harvey recognized it and yelled to the others, “Watch out! It’s the Razor!!” 

When the Razor finished doing its job Sam quietly and quickly looked around his surroundings. He could no longer see the other hairs. The Razor had cut him and everyone else so short that they could not see over the fold of the skin at the opening of the pore. 

THE END

Copyright ©2005 by Jerry W. Crews