Heaven's Gate Bridge thirty-three

Heaven’s Gate Bridge thirty-three

Mr. Miller could not get into the barber shop because his favorite barber was ill and the other had a few customers lined up. In this shop Mr. Webster could tell on the first day if the barber was a cut above the rest who wanted to work there. He was the friendliest man around and also a good listener. He could have been considered a psychiatrist with scissors. And it was a shame that Mr. Webster was going to retire and go live with his other brother in the deep south in about five years. His brother was an owner of a boat and fishing pier that was busy almost every season of the year.

Mr. Webster’s barber shop was built at about the same time as the other places in this area. You couldn’t miss the traditional barber’s pole. Young Mr. Webster first used simple wooden chairs, until he could afford the fancy barber chairs. He had three places for haircuts and one place for a shoe shine. His shop was always clean and smelled nice with the powder that he brushed on the men after a haircut. For a nickel extra, they could get some men’s cologne from Paris or London. When the men were sitting in the chair, they could look out the large window or just visit with their favorite barber.

Mr. Miller stood inside the shop picking up some information when he saw Mrs. Smith walk by. She always walked with a pep in her step. But today, she seemed to be almost walking as if to elude someone. As soon as she reached the tailor shop, a stranger slowly came by and stopped to see that she had entered the shop and not exited again. Something told Mr. Miller that this was very unusual. The stranger crossed the street and went into the apothecary shop. He seemed to be taking his time and looking out the window.

Mr. Webster had put said good-bye to his first customer and walked over to Mr. Miller.

“You noticed that man too.”

“Yes. I don’t think that I have seen him here before. Is he new in town?” asked Mr. Miller as he pointed to the figure across the street.

“Don’t know. But I saw him follow your young worker yesterday. Maybe she has a suitor who is just too shy to introduce himself.”

“That could be, but I think by the way she was walking, she did not want his attentions at all.”

“Well if he comes in here, I’ll let him talk as much as he wants. I’ll let you know if I find out anything.” Mr. Webster replied as he went to his corner to get a broom to sweep some hair trimmings off the floor.

“I appreciate it. So tell Johnny that I’ll be back tomorrow and to save my seat at the regular time.” said Mr. Miller as he walked out the door and down the street to his shop. He figured that Mrs. Smith might be just a little edgy today.

As Mr. Miller walked into his shop, he noticed that Taylor Munson was checking the inventory. His head snapped up as he heard the bell ring as the door was opened. His sleeves were rolled up and he had two boxes that he was going through to check the contents.

“Good morning Mr. Munson.”

“Good morning Mr. Miller, I thought that you were going to the barber today.” said Taylor as he put a page under the small pile of papers that he had.

“My barber was ill today. He had a cough and did not want to cough on any customer. I think that this was considerate of the young man. He has been at that shop for a year and a half and this was his first day to miss. “ replied Mr. Miller as he walked to the back and headed for his desk.

Mr. Miller looked around and standing at a table, examining a pair of pants that needed the leg length shortened was Mrs. Smith. She moved the measuring tape from one leg to the other and then wrote down a number.

“Good morning Mrs. Smith. How are you today?”

“I am fine Mr. Miller. I was on time and I have been at work since I have arrived.” she said as she stood as young child giving a recitation of a dull poem.

“Yes. Thank you.” said Mr. Miller as he tried to think of something to say that would alleviate the tension.

Mrs. Smith turned around without another word and reexamined the pants and her measurements. As she did so, Taylor entered the room and put the first box on the table. He gave a brief stare at Mrs. Smith and then Mr. Miller and left the room.

Mr. Miller walked back into the front to try to begin a conversation when there was a furious clanging of a bell. The men looked out the window and saw the fire department’s truck go racing by. The people in the street moved back at first and then to the curb as it passed by. Women grabbed the hands of their children to make sure that they would stay out of the way. It was headed in the direction of church. Many men looked for the smoke and then did whatever they could to hurry to help the firemen who were always needed a helping hand. There were two churches close together and the men would help the firemen for any religion. The Miller’s church was the oldest and usually had people inside the office during the day. The ladies who helped with the paper work and cleaning were sure to get out quickly, he hoped.

As the sound of the clanging bell receded down the street, some of the men who watched were already getting into their cars and headed for the part of town that the fire truck went to. Old Mr. Murdock was on his bicycle. He was pumping frantically. His thick gray hair seemed to fly in the air. His vest was half buttoned. He peered through his spectacles with intense concentration. As he passed by, his gold watch fell to the ground and rolled over to the front of the tailor shop. Mr. Munson saw this and went outside. He pretended to ascertain where the fire truck was and bent over to pick up the watch. He casually walked back into the shop and look for Mr. Miller. Mr. Miller was on his phone in the back and calling the church.