Sarge stood in front of the mirror just off the door doing a uniform check. He was no longer in the corps, now he was just a barber. But he still had to maintain the precise Marine uniform look, as now it was connected to his job as owner and barber of the shop. His eyes went over his reflection making sure everything was up to board: BDU blouse sleeves rolled up, BDU trousers bloused above his black Danner boots (here Sarge took the liberty that came with being out the military) with a spit shine on them. Everything was up to spec; Sarge grabbed his cover and headed out the front door.
The downhill walk to the barber shop was nothing to Sarge; his military training kicked in and he took the down hill at pace, just a warm-up to him. Before he knew it, Sarge was at the base of the hill, then heading around the corner, down the block to the shop. Opening the door and turning on the light, he did a quick inspection of the shop: everything was where he left it; the floor still sparkled with the cleaning shine he gave it before he closed up for the weekend. He made his way to the back room and confirmed that everything was present and where he left it. He then began to get to open up shop and start business for the week. He moved to his work station, checked his clippers and edger and placed them in their respective spots on his station to be ready for the first customer. He went through and checked the combs and brushes to make sure were in place.
He grabbed the spray bottle and instantly felt it was about half full. He walked over to the closet next to the station, opened it, and grabbed the refill bottle from the middle shelf. As he stepped away from the closet, Sarge’s eyes went up to the next shelf. He could see the stack of plastic containers holding the coins he could use to morph into whatever he (or his customers) needed. His eyes went to the left side and saw the newest addition to closet: a small black metal rack holding a set of business cards. These were the idea of Officer Turner, who came back to the shop before closing on Saturday. Turner proposed Sarge make some business cards for Turner to hand out, especially to a couple of officers at the station that often singled him out. Sarge hadn’t been eager to make the cards, cards that would hold Sarge’s push on them and bring the holder to the shop as Turner explained. Seeing Sarge’s unease, Turner offered to keep the number to fifty. Sarge agreed, got the materials for the cards, took Turner back to his house; Turner came up with a simple design and motto for Sarge’s business card.
Sarge liked what Turner came up with and decided to make a few more to hand out in the shop minus the compulsion push and put them up on the shelf next to his coins. Giving them one last look he closed the cabinet door and looked over at the clock on the wall. 8:45, 15 minutes before he would open the shop. He knew he need to get back to the prep to open but a thought crossed his mind: Had Officer Turner handed the cards to the officers as he said he would?
5 minutes earlier
“Man, Turner, looking sharp there!”
Turner had anticipated this; Ralph Collins, motorcycle patrol officer, calling out to him as he and his partner made their way across the motor pool lot. Turner’s partner, Gabriel Nielsen, looked over to see how Turner was handling Collins’ taunting; Turner simply kept walking forward, heading for their cruiser to start the process of heading out on patrol.
“I know you hear me, Turner.”
Turner took a breath through his nose to keep his composure. Collins was already playing things out as Turner had expected by trying to get his attention. Collins was always trying to get a rise out out Turner, trying to him to react to a joke or a remark, trying to get the upper hand on anyone but Turner was his favorite. Turner, for that reason, had his sights on Collins and his partner Troy Adams for a visit to Sarge’s shop.
Just keep it up, Collins. The thought crossed Turner’s mind. You and Adams will enjoy the transformation Sarge gives you.
Turner could have stayed in his head, his thoughts, and his daydream of Sarge transforming the two bike cops into guardsmen like himself, but his partner’s voice came into his left ear.
“Are you going to let Collins go on like this?” Turner could hear the unease in his partner’s voice. He could also hear the annoyance; like Turner, he too knew Collins’ antics and wasn’t too keen on them. But there was a hint of uncertainty in his partner’s voice, unsure about what Turner was doing.
Turner could have let his partner know what he was going to do, but instead he simply acted to end the situation. After taking a forward step with his left foot and putting his weight on the forward foot, Turner swung his right leg over to his left side, put the toes of his boot on the ground slightly behind his left heel, and carried out a military grade about face. Collins and Adams suddenly stopped walking as Turner in one moment went from facing away from them to facing them and then closing the distance one step at a time.
“Turner??!! What the hell??”
Collins began to panic as the gap between himself and Turner closed with every marching step Turner took towards him.
“Turner, I’m just playing with you; no harm no…”
Before Collins finish the statement, Turner brought his march to an end by coming to rest about two feet away from the two motorcycle officers.
“Officer Collins,” Turner spoke out in a military style cadence, “with your permission, allow me to present the business card of the man responsible for my up-to-spec haircut.”
Collins stood still, not knowing how to respond. He got no help from his partner who looked just a confused as Turner stood before both of them acting on military style protocols.
“Uh, sure.” The words left Collin’s mouth unconsciously.
Turner reached up, undid the button on his left front pocket and reached inside. Pulling two white business cards out, he crossed the distance and put them out for the two officers to take. Collins and Adams looked at each other, uncertain of what to do, but eventually each of them reached out and took one of the cards. Collins and Adams look down at the cards in their hand, paying no attention to Turner stepping back away from them, turning about face, and walking back to his partner.
“What the heck was that?” Nielsen inquired about what he had seen.
“It was the WWSD strategy.”
“WWSD?”
“What would Sarge do.”
“He’s that influential?”
“He’s good people and talking with him gave me a new perspective on being a cop.”
“And he’s a solid barber as the cut is on point.”
“Well, that’s his slogan: Military Grade Cuts Every Time.”
Turner voicing the slogan on the business card broke Collins and Adams out of their trance. As they came back to the parking lot, Turner and Nielsen continued on walking, making their way to their cruiser and starting their prep for patrol.
——————————————
Turner pulled the cruiser up to the light at the intersection of Venetian Place and Central Boulevard. Across the 6 lane thoroughfare sat the newly opened retro diner, the spot Turner and Nielsen had decided to eat lunch at. The light finally turned green, allowing Turner to take the cruiser across the lanes, get it into the far right lane before making a right turn to head into the parking lot; he drove down the lot towards the back of the diner until he turned the cruiser to the left and into a larger spot. Once in, Turner cut the engine and he and Nielsen exited the vehicle.
Turner and Nielsen began to make their way up the parking lot to the entrance, a few steps into walking, the pair of cops saw figures coming around the corner of the diner. With each step they took, they closed the distance and the figures became clearer. A group of 4 teenagers came towards them. Nielsen at first was puzzled by them coming into the parking lot, but then his mind came to realize that Garfield High School was about 10 minutes drive from here and he began to let the four pass. As the officers walked past the high schoolers, the four teens ran the eyes up and down the cops with the typical teenage disdain for the law. Nielsen met their disdainful gaze and gave the young men a nod, even though he figured it wouldn’t change their attitude. He and Turner made their way past the teen until he heard Turner turn around and call out to the teens.
“Turner, what the hell?” Nielsen could only ask his partner what he was doing.
“Not out to harass them.”
Turner began to walk away from his partner; Nielsen could see him reaching again for the uniform pocket. Nielsen couldn’t stop his partner from doing what he had seen this morning. He looked over at the teens and immediately saw the suspect that had gotten Turner’s attention: the tall, slim Caucasian student and his long brown hair. Turner couldn’t resist handing out the card, which he did to the teen, but then not to make him stand out he offer cards to the two African-American and the Asian teen in his company. The teens stared at the cards Turner headed back to his partner.
“Just can’t stop being Sarge’s PR guy, can you?”
Turner just shrugged. “He’s a good barber, just trying to drum up some business for him.”
“And you think those teens are going to trek all the way over to Sarge’s from here?”
Turner shrugged again. “Doesn’t hurt to try, does it?”
Nielsen could only shake his head at Turner’s PR. The two cops headed down the lot towards the entrance of the diner, never noticing the teens still standing in the parking lot staring at the business cards.
——————
Sarge made his way up the few stairs to his front door. It was a quiet day, no real need for him to transform anyone; he just spent his day as an ordinary barber in his barber shop. He turned the lock, pushed the door open, and made his way back home. After closing the door and placing his keys in a Marine Corps mug, Sarge pulled out his phone as he made his way towards the kitchen. He stopped at the counter once he saw the last text message he received; opening the text app, he saw that Officer Turner had sent him a text.
“6 cards handed out today; 2 in house, 4 at lunch.”
Sarge was surprised that Turner had handed out cards on his lunch break, but as he thought through his encounter with Turner, Sarge hit upon Turner’s passion to expand Sarge’s clientčle, or perhaps Turner’s passion to grow the guard. Once he saw it in those terms, Sarge decided to go along with Turner. He had let Turner walk out with the push laced business card; there was no choice but to see how this play out. But he also wanted to see how Turner would react to having more guardsmen like himself. Sarge was curious to see what sort of leader Turner would be, how would he guide his fellow officers and the civilians he met today. The experiment called Officer/Guardsman Jerry Turner was already out in the world; how could he stop it now?