Ewelda Benoit was young and beautiful in every way. From her well-conditioned crown to her well maintained feet. She took the time out to care for herself. She was one of those who brushed her hair one hundred strokes twice a day. She went to beauty salons to get manicures and pedicures and eyebrows plucked, facials and a little trim. Ewelda had the beauty of a model and nicely built very athletic. She was any man's dream. Ewelda was very meticulous about her upkeep. This has been her routine for years.
But even though she could never walk out her door without a compliment from men and women alike. Ewelda lived a life of horror. She constantly stayed in a mirror checking herself making sure her hair was always in place. She used sprays and gels. Her hair was like a brillo pad, it did not move. Her hairstyles lasted for months if she didn't bother with it. Her stylist always looked surprised to see her doming. She never could get her. The women in the salon always pegged her to be vain, conceited, but that was not the story for Ewelda.
One sunny morning, Ewelda awoke screaming frantically. There were a few strands of her beautiful hair on her pillow. She jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. She stood combing her scalp for bald spots. She couldn't believe it. So she called her beautician for an emergency. She even made and appointment with her doctor. She was over reacting of course but not through her eyes. She was saving her life. She sat on her bedside delirious. She finally dressed and rushed to the salon. The beautician tried not to laugh at her. She gently washed, condition and massaged her so-called balding scalp. Right afterwards she went to her doctor. He told her it was nothing but Ewelda was not hearing it. She whined and complained until the doctor gave her some vitamins. She went on and on about how she has always had a lustrous head of hair, that it's always been thick and full, even the few gray hairs were healthy.
It had been three weeks that Ewelda had been dropping vitamins down her throat trying to protect her hair. She went to the mirror each night and each morning to check for new growth. She brushed her hair one hundred times and fainted when she saw that the brush had a few hairs attached to it. When she came to the first thing she did was rub her head, not because she bumped her head, but to feel for the bald spots. She immediately jumped up, got dressed, and ran out the door. She stood on the front porch looking around for what she did not know. Ewelda became frantic. She hopped in her car and drove off to nowhere. She buzzed down the streets so fast the names were just a blur. She came to a quick halt about twenty-two miles down. She noticed a huge billboard atop this not so huge building. It was a psychic shop/ herbal center. Which the herbal part caught her attention; the psych part raised an eyebrow.
She hesitated on entering the shop. The weird feelings she had from stories told to her. She was not so sure of why she chose to stop. Though something told her this was the solution to her dilemma. The shelves were full of bottles and boxes and jars and bags all over the counter top. Each container filled with some strange looking powder or leaf or stinky huge pills. And behind the counter was even a stranger looking woman or whatever it was. The hair was not well groomed and the clothes outdated. I guess this was the attire to give you the willies. And Ewelda had them big time. She roamed the small aisles looking at bags, smelling in the jars and gawking at the size of the pills in the bottles. The leafy stuff was surely the real healers; at least that's what she had believed. It was the natural stuff. The things in the jars and bottles were the mixed things with additives. Ewelda smelled some good things, she smelled some bad things and she tried to sneak a finger dip of the powder in one of the jars marked growth when the thing behind the counter jumped out yelling and telling her no stop. Ewelda jumped back in fear.
“Don't take that. This is male growth powder. Not female, unless you are a male and just weird looking. Hi, I am Karma. How can I help you?”
Ewelda thought to herself, 'Now she is the definition of weird looking. Has this thing even checked a mirror lately or ever?'
