Marianna's Beauty Salon: they were two Pakistani girls with long hair venturing into forbidden territory--the Dominican hair salon.WHEN I WALKED BY MARIANNA'S Beauty Salon, I always saw Dominican women, their hair the blonde of a lion's mane mane the region of long coarse hair at the dorsal border of the neck and terminating at the poll in the forelock. Present in the horse and other Equidae. Similar gatherings of coarse hairs are present in the giraffe, gnu, various antelope, cheetah and lion. Called also juba. , frozen as if the wind had come and left it that way, frozen in place with industrial-strength hairspray. Their skin would be brown from summers of going to the D.R., quick dashes of blush across their cheeks like hot pink scars. The window would be smoky from all the steam inside, the hair blow-dried and washed. [ILLUSTRATION OMITTED] It was Saima's idea. She was an eighth grader at IS 227, and I was only a sixth grader. My mother didn't like her and always said that she would stab me in the back in the end. Saima said all the popular girls who had boyfriends had their hair layered, so we needed to get our hair layered too. I didn't know if I wanted a boyfriend, but I knew I wanted to hang out with Saima. "Look," Saima said as we walked up and down the block between our houses. She pointed at the woman in the salon. "I bet she gets a lot of sex." I looked at the woman she was pointing at, the woman I had named Marianna. She was old, but the way she dressed, I could see she was not ashamed of her breasts, her ass. She was proud of them. As I stood there, I saw her with one motion pull a black comb out of the sickly blue liquid and flick her wrist so the drops fell off. She did this like it was a dance, and I thought, yes, she gets sex. "I'm going in," Saima said. She reached for the door handle, but I pulled her arm back. "Wait!" I was in a panic. Saima and I had our hair in braids down our backs. We had two braids now, and when we got older, we would have one long braid like our mothers. We were Pakistani, and that was the way it had to be. "Saima, you're going to get into so much trouble." I knew Saima wasn't allowed to cut her hair. In the mornings, her mother would rough-comb Saima's hair out, trying to unknot the gnarls, and then tie it in two tight braids. Saima would whine, "Amey, you're hurting me," but her mother would only brush harder. When Saima begged her mother to let her cut her hair, her mother would get mad. "What? You want to be like those Spanish girls?" Saima would wince, from her mother's words or the way her mother pulled her hair, I never knew. "I'm doing it. I brought the money." Saima pulled out two dollars. That was how much it cost to have a haircut at Marianna's. I felt like I had been tricked. Saima didn't tell me that this walk would end up inside Marianna's Beauty Salon. I looked up and down the block. If anyone even saw me go into the salon, I would get a beating like nobody's business. Saima looked at me with disdain. "Don't worry. You're not the one who's getting your hair cut." And she stepped through the doors. I didn't know what else to do but follow her. When she opened the door, it was like opening the door to another world. There was a forest of sounds, women laughing Women Laughing is a stage play written by Michael Wall in 1989. It was first produced for the stage in 1992, just after the author’s death. The original version of the play, which was for radio, contained only one act. A second was added for the stage production. like birds in trees; the smell of hairspray was thick and overpowering, a swamp. There was a pause when we entered. All the Dominican ladies stopped to look at us, two skinny Pakistani girls. I saw us in the mirror, and my face burned with shame. Two skinny girls, breasts barely popping out, wearing baggy salwar kameez Salwar kameez (also spelled shalwar kameez and shalwar qamiz) is a traditional dress worn by both women and men in South Asia. It is sometimes known as Punjabi suit due to its popularity in the Punjab region[1] and the Pathani suit , old shoes and sweaters our aunties had knitted for us back in Pakistan. There was one lady, her hair in curlers under a blow-drying machine, who looked like she could be any of my classmate's mothers. She smiled, and there was a softness in her smile. We stepped forward. Marianna was staring at us, her eyes were heavily made up with eyeshadow and mascara Mascara (măs`kərə, mäs`kärä), town (1998 pop. 80,797), NW Algeria. The town is also known as Mouaskar. It is an administrative center, a garrison town, and a marketplace, noted for its white wine and for its trade in , and her full legs and ass were wrapped in spandex, lace on the bottom at her ankles. Saima was looking at a her in awe. I could see Saima wanted those spandex. Then Marianna smiled, and her arms opened out to us. "Mami! Sit down! Sit down!" She brushed the hair off of a turquoise blue barber seat and pointed for us to sit down. That was when I noticed there was hair everywhere: cut-up hair all over the floor, cut-up hair on chairs. There was an armory of Aquanet hairspray in front of the sticky mirror and on the shelves that looked like they had been hastily built. Saima sat down at the seat, and I stood beside her. I couldn't believe we were inside Marianna's Beauty Salon. Saima was adjusting herself in the chair, nervously moving around, and I looked into the sticky mirror at myself, squinty squint v. squint·ed, squint·ing, squints v.intr. 1. To look with the eyes partly closed, as in bright sunlight. 2. a. To look or glance sideways. b. eyes and a big pakora Pakora is a type of Indian cuisine and Pakistani cuisine created by taking ingredients such as chicken, onion, eggplant, lentils, potato, spinach, cauliflower, tomato, and chilli, dipping them in a batter of gram flour and then deep-frying them. nose, my hair in two oily braids. But Saima was different. She had high cheekbones and dark, shiny eyes. She was the one everyone looked at when we walked up and down the block. Marianna went back to working over an older woman, giving her highlights. She was clicking her tongue, tying shiny aluminum foil Noun 1. aluminum foil - foil made of aluminum aluminium foil, tin foil foil - a piece of thin and flexible sheet metal; "the photographic film was wrapped in foil" around her hair and then painting it with a brush. The woman was speaking fast in Spanish, and Marianna was sucking in her teeth and nodding. Then the woman said something, and Marianna burst out into a laugh. She laughed so loud that the other women all stopped and looked. Marianna shouted the punchline in Spanish, and they all started cracking up. "Maybe you should unbraid your hair," I whispered to Saima. She fumbled quickly with her braids. I thought of my mother, Saima's mother and all our mothers. Sometimes they would be so busy, they wouldn't even comb their hair for days, and when they did, they simply opened their braids, pulled a comb through and then braided braid·ed adj. 1. a. Produced by or as if by braiding. b. Having braids. 2. Decorated with braid. 3. it back up again. It was not like this, with women all around laughing. The woman with the curls under the drying machine added something to the conversation, and they all started laughing again. I looked at Saima, and now she looked terrified ter·ri·fy tr.v. ter·ri·fied, ter·ri·fy·ing, ter·ri·fies 1. To fill with terror; make deeply afraid. See Synonyms at frighten. 2. To menace or threaten; intimidate. . "They're all busy," I said. "We can still get out of here." "No," Saima shook her head. She had unbraided her hair, and it hung down thick and wavy. She looked like a wild princess. Marianna looked over at us and smiled. "One minute baby!" When Marianna came over to us, I could see Saima straighten up Verb 1. straighten up - straighten oneself; "He drew himself up when he talked to his superior" draw up, pull up straighten - get up from a sitting or slouching position; "The students straightened when the teacher entered" . Her back seemed to tighten and I could see there was sweat in her palms. "Look at this hair," Marianna shouted to the other hairdresser. She held up a clump of Saima's hair. We were the only ones in the salon with long, black hair. Everyone else's hair was tinted tint n. 1. A shade of a color, especially a pale or delicate variation. 2. A gradation of a color made by adding white to it to lessen its saturation. 3. A slight coloration; a tinge. 4. brown and red, short, curled or cut into pieces. They all looked at us with approving grins. "I used to have hair like you, baby," Marianna said to Saima. We looked at Marianna. It was hard to believe that her hair had ever followed the rules of gravity. The other hairdresser came over. "Damn, you've got virigin hair, mami!" Saima beamed, and I relaxed as well. I wanted to open my hair and have them say it was beautiful too. But then the other hairdresser said to me, "Girl, you're mine. I want some virgin hair, too!" And they all started laughing when I backed away, grabbing hold of my braids. Marianna was busily putting an apron around Saima. "Baby, you sure you want to cut this?" Saima flicked her hair. "Yes. I want to get it layered." As Marianna started cutting Saima's hair, I sat down on one of the extra plastic chairs in the corner. Saima was talking to Noun 1. talking to - a lengthy rebuke; "a good lecture was my father's idea of discipline"; "the teacher gave him a talking to" lecture, speech rebuke, reprehension, reprimand, reproof, reproval - an act or expression of criticism and censure; "he had to Marianna, and Marianna was listening. She was combing Saima's hair gently, starting from the bottom and working her way up. When she took the scissors scissors Cutting instrument or tool consisting of a pair of opposed metal blades that meet and cut when the handles at their ends are brought together. Modern scissors are of two types: the more usual pivoted blades have a rivet or screw connection between the cutting ends and started cutting, chunks of long, black hair fell to the floor. I watched Saima's reflection. She sat up straighter and looked into the sticky mirror. It was as if she was seeing her face like some lost familiar, as if she was pressing herself down the birth canal birth canal n. The passage through which the fetus is expelled during parturition, leading from the uterus through the cervix, vagina, and vulva. Also called parturient canal. and letting Marianna hold up the mirror. RELATED ARTICLE: TOP SEVEN AMERICAN-INDIAN BOOKS The Lone Ranger Lone Ranger arch foe of criminals in early west. [Radio: “The Lone Ranger” in Buxton, 143–144; Comics: Horn, 460; TV: Terrace, II, 34–35] See : Crime Fighting Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven Sherman Alexie Sherman Joseph Alexie, Jr. (born October 7, 1966) is an award-winning and prolific author and occasional comedian. Much of his writing draws on his experiences as a modern Native American. He lives in Seattle, Washington. A great collection of stories from one of the best writers we have today. Inspired by life on the rez, the stories run from contemporary urban tales to rural family weaves about history and truth. 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