He Had a Mohawk
A little Frost for your hair
‘It’s difficult to describe him except that he had a Mohawk.’ Carlo wrote in his journal that afternoon. ‘Not just any old Mohawk. This Mohawk was multi-colored favoring pastels and stood a good nine inches high. This boy clearly wanted attention.’
Carlo was in the grocery store line waiting behind Teen Mohawk, admiring the creativity of the style and wondering why someone would do such a thing to his head of hair. Having a receding hairline himself, Carlo couldn’t understand the need to alter what the Good Lord had given him. The only conclusion he could come to was they needed the attention. But was it the kind of attention he wanted?
The boy was wearing a faded jean jacket with both sleeves separated from the shoulder seam, revealing the boy’s tattoo-sleeved arms. Carlo tapped the teen on the shoulder.
Teen Mohawk turned around and gave Carlo his best snarl. His double nose rings, two earlobe plugs, and a pierced tongue completed the head package.
“Say, I was just curious,” Carlo said. “Why the Mohawk?”
“Any law against it?”
The attitude accompanied the look.
“No, none at all. Just curious why someone would do that to their head. Just curious is all.”
“I’ve got my reasons,” Teen Mohawk said.
“Fair enough,” Carlo said. “I do like the pastel color scheme. Adds a little pizzazz and variety, I guess. Not just your normal Mohawk that you see high school kids having nowadays.”
“You’re poking fun now, aren’t you?”
“No. I really like it. Adds character. Sorry to have bothered you.”
Teen Mohawk turned back around.
Carlo hadn’t noticed it before, but there embroidered on the back of Teen Mohawk’s jean jacket was the ending to a famous poem.
“…..I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference.”
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