Read Ebook: Goma's Follicles by De Courcy Dorothy De Courcy John

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Ebook has 141 lines and 7316 words, and 3 pages

Thurwinker shrugged. "I don't know."

Low mumbling ran through the group of natives.

"What are they saying?" the man asked.

"They say you are very brave," Thurwinker replied. "They seem to think you're a big hero."

The man shook his head and walked away bewildered.

Thurwinker turned back to the natives and all of them were looking at Goma. Goma glanced from face to face, fingering his shoulder length hair. He shuddered and looked pleadingly at the others. Faint lines of what Thurwinker thought was disgust began to appear on the group of faces.

Thurwinker smiled suddenly. "I think I know what they want," he mumbled to himself. "Chief," he called. "You want--" He paused trying to find the words. Then taking a piece of his own hair, he made cutting motions with his fingers.

Goma's beady eyes dilated and he shook visibly.

"Come," Thurwinker urged, opening the barber shop door.

Hesitantly, Goma took a step forward.

"Come," Thurwinker urged again. "It won't hurt." He pointed to himself and asked, "I go first?"

"No!" Goma roared. He thrust Thurwinker aside and galloped to the barber chair. Roy looked questioningly at Thurwinker.

"It's all right," Thurwinker grinned. "Go ahead. This will put them at ease. Maybe this is just the thing we've been looking for. Yes indeed, just the thing. But be careful, Roy. Yes, yes, very careful."

Roy nodded and tried to run a comb through the Chief's matted hair. Each time Goma was touched, he shivered. The other natives watched through the window and shook whenever Goma did. Roy isolated a small section of hair and placing his scissors against the comb, he snipped it off. With a scream of terrible agony, Goma's body convulsed in the chair. He leaped upright, holding his head with one hand while he looked wildly about.

Roy started over to Goma to remove the apron but Goma backed away holding his hands before him as if to ward off a blow. Then he burst through the door and out into the street, running as though the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. He didn't stop until he reached the brush at the edge of the crater.

The other natives watched him go with disgust. Two of them picked up rocks and threw them after the retreating figure. When Goma was at last out of sight, they assembled themselves in a group again and marched out of town.

Thurwinker watched the procession diminish in the distance. "Well, that's that," he muttered. He turned on Roy. "I told you to be careful!"

"Apparently you weren't careful enough!" Thurwinker snapped. "I don't know what you did to him, but you sure fixed our chances for getting any land."

"But I tell you I didn't do anything, Mr. Thurwinker," Roy answered hotly. "I hardly even touched him!"

"Well, if I were you, I'd cultivate a lighter touch!" Thurwinker cracked and, without waiting for Roy to reply, he turned and walked out of the shop.

During the next hour, Thurwinker composed twenty-six messages to send back home explaining his failure. Twenty-six messages had been thrown in the wastebasket as unsatisfactory. There really wasn't anything to say. He knew that none of his excuses would be accepted. He was a failure and so he wrote out his resignation. It was a foregone conclusion that the Colonial Office would want it. Thurwinker groaned. He could see himself being held up before the students in the OCD schools as the horrible example.

He was halfway through with what was to be message number twenty-seven when the door opened quietly. Goma stepped in and walked unheard over to Thurwinker's desk.

"I Goma," he mumbled.

"Yaaaaaaaah!" Thurwinker let out a whoop and leaped to the top of his desk, quite convinced that Goma had come to destroy him. "Now, now, now, Chief. Ah--you and I are friends!"

Goma looked at him. "I am not Chief. I am called old female." He looked away from the amazed Thurwinker and sagged into a chair.

"What's the matter, Chief?" Thurwinker asked, climbing down off his desk.

"You mean, when you get a haircut?" Thurwinker asked.

Goma shivered and said in a small voice, "Yes."

A crafty light came into Thurwinker's eyes. They bargained for half an hour at the end of which time Goma agreed to give up a very small plot of ground in addition to the crater. It wasn't much, but it was something and Thurwinker accepted.

They arose and walked silently out of the hut. The miners gave the pair curious glances as they strolled up the street. When they reached the barber shop, they found a crowd of natives numbering about one hundred, men, women and children. Goma drew up in front of them imperiously. He stared at them for a full minute and then struck his shoulder with a closed fist in a gesture of bravado. The crowd watched him as he marched up to the barber chair and sat down.

Goma turned to Roy and held up his hand making the cutting motion.

Roy looked at Thurwinker. "Is it all right?"

"Yes, yes indeed! The Chief isn't afraid any more. Go ahead, Roy, but be careful. Yes indeed, very careful!"

Roy cautiously combed out a few strands of hair and holding them gingerly in his hand, he snipped. A groan escaped from between Goma's clenched teeth. Roy hesitated but Goma held up his hand again, making cutting motions. Roy selected a few more strands of hair. As he cut, Goma's breath hissed in sharply and his hands clutched the sides of the chair. On the third cut, Goma's body relaxed and his eyes closed.

Thurwinker rushed to his side. He looked at him for a minute and then ran to the door. "Quick," he said to one of the miners. "Get Dr. Bowen!"

The natives outside began to mutter angrily. Thurwinker dashed back to the barber chair. "Go ahead," he hissed. "Keep cutting! Don't let the natives think anything's gone wrong!"

Thurwinker heaved a sigh. In a few minutes, Dr. Bowen brought Goma back to consciousness. The Chief stood up but his legs were a little shaky. Shoving away the helping hands, he reeled toward the open doorway. The native stepped back with looks of awe and reverence. With pride, Goma strode away, the natives following at his heels like obedient and worshipful dogs.

"Now, Thurwinker," Dr. Bowen said, "what's this all about?"

Thurwinker explained the situation while Dr. Bowen listened intently.

"That's funny," the doctor muttered. "He didn't look like much of a coward to me."

"Well, you have to watch these natives carefully," Thurwinker babbled. "You never know what they're going to do next. Goma insisted on getting a haircut and I thought it was a good opportunity to get the land we need."

The doctor stirred a tuft of Goma's hair with the toe of his boot. "Just the same, Thurwinker, you may get into trouble over this. We want that land, but not if there's a war. You know what the Colonial Office would say if trouble started." The doctor bent over and picked up the bit of hair. "Hmmm. I wonder if this could be the reason."

"Reason for what?" Thurwinker asked.

"I don't know," Dr. Bowen replied, "but I'll make some tests." He dropped the hair into his bag. "If I find out anything, I'll let you know," he called as he started for the door, "and I advise you, Thurwinker, to stay out of trouble."

Thurwinker nearly wore a groove in the floor with his pacing. He was a nervous wreck by the time Dr. Bowen arrived. He practically jumped on him as he came in the door. "Now, doctor! What have you been doing? What kind of tests were you talking about and why all this mystery?"

"Calm down, Thurwinker," Dr. Bowen soothed. "There isn't any mystery--at least, not any more."

"What do you mean?" Thurwinker demanded.

"I mean, you've been misled by the appearance of the natives. They look like us except for that light orange color, but they've got at least one fundamental difference. That stuff on their heads isn't exactly hair."

"What!" Thurwinker exploded. "What is it, then? It looks like hair!"

"Under the microscope, there's quite a difference," Dr. Bowen explained. "It has a hard covering just like our hair, the center is hollow and contains a little fluid, but floating in this fluid is a nerve."

"A what!"

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