Tuesday 24th July 2012
The tale of cut hair
“TEXT or call if you can’t find anything. Bye now!”
Louise was ready, just, when the taxi arrived to take them to the airport. I donned the black wig in order to stand on the door-step with Brendan and wave goodbye.
As Dan loaded into the taxi the two bulky suitcases that Louise had previously described as tiny, another cage came to a halt in the street and an elegantly-dressed woman emerged, who greeted Louise, telling her to have a wonderful holiday and come back tanned.
“Thanks, Monicker! We will! Happy Chris Muss! These lovely people are house sitting for us. A colleague of Dan’s and his girlfriend. So if you hear any noise, don’t worry. It’ll be shorn!”
Which he was, about three hours later. Mind you, he took some persuading.
“So, you’re going to deprive me of my flowing locks, are you? How could you possibly do that to a man? I’ll be like Sam’s son. Lose all my strength?”
“Explain the son of Sam, please. Is he your friend?”
“No, I never met him. He died centuries ago. A mighty warrior, who had never been defeated in battle, until a woman, called Dee-Lie-La, got him to tell her the secret of his strength… when they were in bed together.”
We were in the kitchen, drinking tea.
Brendan’s glance in my direction suggested he was thinking he wished he had not said what he had just said, but the moment passed and he continued to recount the tale of Sam’s son and how he was betrayed by the woman he loved.
“That is sad. Is it true?”
“Probably not. Though some people do believe every word of the old testament is true.”
“I do not understand. Is not a story a story? The tales I have read or been told… were they not all made by somebody? the words of writers, or singers, like you? So it is with the books of Emily, or in the library of Isobel. These are not true stories. There cannot have been an old lady who really swallowed a fly and other, bigger creatures. Please tell me more tales from the testament. … while I am making you look like the son of Sam.”