RELUCTANT PRESS
When I got to her house I was disappointed to find her in a bulky bathrobe. She asked if I would like to shampoo her hair and so I soaked her head under the kitchen faucet and lathered her silky hair twice, followed by a conditioner, thoroughly enjoying every minute. Her mother worked around the kitchen all the time as though this was perfectly normal. This time I set her hair at the kitchen table, taking the time to carefully roll each strand of hair neatly on the plastic rollers. While I was working, Susie, her mother, and I chatted casually about school, college, and my future. Mrs. Wales invited me to stay for supper, and since Mom kept the salon open late on Friday nights, I jumped at the offer. Not only did it mean that I did not have to fix supper for myself, it would give me that much more time to spend with Susie. She was going to dry her hair in her room and invited me to help her with the dryer.
I was surprised at the condition of her bedroom. Her bed had not been made and there were clothes strewn all around the floor. Mom would have had a fit if I had ever let my room get like this. Susie got her hair dryer from the closet and it was a bonnet type, which I was not familiar with. However, it was easy to figure out and I stretched the opening to fit it over her rollers and pulled the strings on the front to tighten it. I connected the hose to the back of the bonnet and turned it on. Right away the bonnet inflated like a balloon.
"Is there anything I can do while you're drying," I shouted so that she would hear me above the noise of the dryer. "I don't think so...unless...oh, never mind" "What? Tell me."
"No, I remembered that I need to iron my uniform and, please forgive me, for a minute I forgot that you were a boy." "Well, so what if I am a boy? What difference does that make?"
"Boys don't iron, do they?" she asked, the challenge very apparent.
"This boy does!" I blurted out, again revealing something about myself that I had tried so hard to keep secret. There was something about Susie that made me want to do anything for her that she wanted, even ironing, which I hated.
"REALLY?" asked Susie, as though I had told her that I had two heads. "Would you really do my uniform?"
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RUFFLES & CURLES
By Kammi Morton
"Sure," I answered with mock bravery.
"What a sweetheart you are. It's on the bed. Mom will show you where the iron and ironing board are kept. Thanks, Danny."
I picked up the uniform and carried it downstairs. My bravado quickly disappeared at the reality of facing Mrs. Wales with what I was about to do. This was a task that I was even embarrassed to do in front of my mother.
"Ah, Mrs. Wales...ah...?"
"Yes, dear?" she asked kindly.
"Ah...Susie asked me to iron this for her, and she said you would get the...ah...things for me."
"Oh, that lazy girl!" she muttered with a smile. "It's awfully nice of you to do that. My husband would not have been caught dead standing at an ironing board. You'll find everything in that closet and if you set up over in that corner we can talk while I get supper ready."
I got the ironing board from the closet and stood it up where she indicated. I plugged in the iron and while I waited for it to heat up I spread the skirt of the uniform on the board. It had tight pleats which I knew would need a wet cloth to give a nice sharp crease. I found a white cotton cloth on the shelf next to a can of spray starch and wet the cloth in the sink. I carefully arranged the skirt and pressed the hot iron on the wet cloth. There was a hiss and an escape of steam as I moved the iron up and down. I had to reverse the pressing cloth several times to finish the skirt but when I held it up I was satisfied that nobody would have better pressed pleats than Susie. The other part of the uniform was a red satin blouse and I turned this inside out and began ironing. It was a pleasure to see the fabric smooth out under the iron. And it was even more pleasurable to think that I was doing something so personal with Susie's clothes.
"I can see that you are no stranger to ironing, Danny," said Mrs. Wales. "You're certainly welcome to come over here any time. There's never a lack of clothes to be ironed. It's so nice to see a boy do something that most people would think was sissyish. It really bugs me that people are so narrowminded."
I blushed at the compliment, but prayed that my enlightened behavior would not go beyond these walls. I was getting
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