No Hair, No Where
(4/22/09)

Mel walks into the locker room with his gear. Some of the rest of his swim team are just finishing up and heading out to the pool. One in particular stops and heads for him. His brown hair peeking out from under his skull cap as he moves, Ethan walks over to his friend and gives him a friendly punch in the shoulder. Looking into Mel’s eyes, “You’re ok, right?”

Mel returns the look, “Yeah. I had to go buy some hair removal gel. I didn’t realize I had run out.” He shows Ethan the can that he pulled out from his bag. Ethan smiles at the red head.

“Well, hurry up. The meet is about to begin.”

“Right. Right. I’ll be right out.” He says shooing away his friend.

Ethan heads out, and Mel undresses. He squirts the hair gel into his hands and lathers up. Soon his legs, arms, chest, face and privates are covered with the hair removal product. His body tingles as the substance works into his skin. He waits another minute to let it do its “magic”.

He takes the razorless hair remover that looks like a regular razor and cleans off the hair and gel on his legs. He continues through the process he has done many times before. Next he cleans off the arms. The tingle continues in the cleaned places, but he chalks that up to leaving it on a little long. “It will go away in a minute,” he assures himself.

Next comes the wanna be stubble on his face. “Every hair you remove is less friction in the water,” he recalls his coach saying back before their first meet.

As he works on his chest, he continues the memory of the past conversation. “Everywhere,” asks a younger version of himself.

“Yup.”

“Even down there?”

Mel has finished his chest and pauses for the end of the conversation, “Yes. Especially down there. Any hair down there could keep your Speedo from being streamlined and slow you down. Races can be lost in fractions of seconds.”

He takes the “razor” and cleans up around his member. He places the device down and reaches into his bag for his outfit. He pulls out his trunks and starts to slide them over his legs.

But they look different than the way he has always seen them. His legs are still quite muscular, but they are smaller. “How can this be,” he wonders aloud. Then his gaze shifts to the hands holding the shorts. They also are strong but differently shaped. He sits there for a moment trying to make sense of what he is seeing.

A pounding bangs on the door. Someone shouts through it calling him out. He slides the swimsuit up, but stops again as it reaches its destination. His manliness seems to be pulling in. “It’s just nervousness and the cold,” he explains it away. He runs a hand through his short hair and reaches for his swimming cap.

He goes off balance and misses the bag nearly falling on his side. He tries again with more concentration. He scoops it up and places it on his head like he has done many times before. Having completed his outfit, his confidence returns.

He stands. And almost falls. Something is throwing off his balance. “This isn’t right, but I have to get out there. The meet is starting and they called me.”

With more determination, he slowly turns and reaches into his gym bag for the last item. But he never makes it. Extra weight on his chest draws his attention first. Then it clicks.

“No, no, no. No!” His hands go to his mouth and throat as a new voice leaves.

Tears fall. He collapses back onto the bench. Sobs come. His hands hardly muffle the sound. He hears the familiar sound of the door to the locker room opening. Instinctively, he covers his chest and looks at the intruder through teary eyes.

It’s Ethan. “Mel, you in … ?” He gasps. “What are you do…?” Finally recognition reaches his brain. “Mel?” The red head nods slightly. He quickly crosses the distance, grabs the large towel from the bag, and wraps it around her. With one arm around her shoulders, Ethan asks quietly, “What happened?”

Mel sniffles. “I don’t know. I was taking the hair off, and this happened to me.” She looks tearfully at her friend, “What am I going to do?”

Ethan draws her close, “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out together.” Melanie looks hopefully at him. He cracks a smile, “In the meantime, you might want to try out for the girl’s swim team.”

She laughs lightly and punches him playfully in the shoulder. He smiles, “You’re ok, right?”

She wipes the stray tears away. “Yeah.” They stand and exit the locker room.