On the same day as the dead bird investigation there was a
dance party of sorts at the salon. Adam and Drew had just gotten new haircuts
and a few days before, new sunglasses. That is a deadly combination if you’re
five years-old and wanting to get down and get funky. I can’t remember what
song was playing at the beginning of the funk-fest but it had a good beat and
they could surely dance to it. Alex was in the chair getting his trim and the
twins were standing in front of a full length mirror mugging for themselves and
each other. Kelly and I were admiring the moves on these two masters of swing,
of shake, of shimmy when they noticed us watching and stopped the show. I said
to them that we wouldn’t watch them dance anymore and that they could feel free
to shake their money-makers, to get their grooves on, to bust those moves. She
and I both turned, at the same time, put our backs to them, gave them their
privacy to shake it but not to break it, and looked in the mirror over her
station and watched them in the reflection. The wiggling we saw was the thing
of legend, the grooving was of epic proportions, the foot work was fancy. It
did continue for some time, until they caught on. That was it. The curtain had
fallen, for the time being, on the beauty salon rug-cutting.
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