THE VAGABOND

Vag slumped in the barber chair and looked into the big mirror. A blank, "How'd you like it, sir? Short? Medium? Long?--The barber's cagerly flat voice jarred him out of the void.

"Short. Army style." Vag heard his voice too loud in the empty barber shop. Then he said, "Not too short, though--got a date Friday. He watched the barber in the mirror, moving around behind him with the permanent smile. He hardly remembered getting into the chair. All the times before this, ever since his second day in Cambridge, he had stood desperately undecided in the middle of the barber shop floor when the smiling men in the white coats had snapped to attention next to their chairs. It still embarrassed him, though he managed to hide it under a self-assured shuffle. This time he hadn't seen them. Just drifted to the chair, missing the barber's sugary "Good morning, sir."

Vag's eye-lids shut heavily. It was only eleven o'clock, but he'd been up for five hours now. Stan and Don had gotten him up at six. They'd gone over to Hayes Bick for breakfast, sort of a testimonial dinner on toasted cinnies. Cinnies and Bickford's brought back a lot of things. Then over to PBH at 7:30. Vag waited outside of Local Board 47. A silent walk over to the island in the Square, trying to think of something important to say. Nothing. Hurried, cold handshakes. "Don't forget to write," Vag had said. Then as they raced down the long stairs he had shouted, "Seen you somewhere." He'd heard it in a movie, but it was all he could think of. Vag had watched the swinging brass doors on the subway stairs flutter to a stop, then walked across to the Coop to buy a notebook.

"See you somewhere," he muttered, just to see how it sounded. Where would it be, he wondered. Back in Cambridge? Maybe. Haven't thought much about it, Vag said under his breath. Family always wanted me to have that degree. And I only need three more courses. But it's going to be different afterwards. And I'll be different. Why the hell come back anyway. Right now I just want to get out of this ghost town. Hope the draft board gets me before exams. . . . And if I came back it would only be an escape. And I'd be bored. And a lot of us won't be back at all. To hell with it.

"Going in the Army soon?" It was the barber again, making conversation. "Yeah. Soon." Vag almost snapped it at him. The white coat retreated behind him, and he felt the hair jab him under his collar. "Damn."

"Coming back after the war?" The barber hesitated. It sounded the same as when he said, "How 'bout a hot oil shampoo?" Same fake smile, too.

"Not sure," Vag whispered. "Depends."