You see a black and white photo showing a kid with a flattop - it looks like something out of the fifties, but the style is coming back. "How about that one?" You point at the photo. The barber nods and leads you to the chair. "One of my favorites - nice clean-cut all-American boy. Not enough of those around."
You have to laugh. Clean cut all-American boy? You? The guy must think you're an overgrown Boy Scout. And he sure hasn't seen some of the tough gangs that have flattops in the city. He pulls out scissors and starts to trim you hair.
About halfway through the haircut he pumps the chair up a couple of notches - it must be sinking a little. Then he turns you around so you are facing the mirror and you blink at the reflection. The short haircut makes you look younger. A lot younger. He is snipping away at the sides now, and every clump of hair that falls away seems to take another year with it. You look about 16 or 17, then 15. He is finishing up, catching a few stray hairs around your ears.
You continue to stare, not believing your own eyes. The boy looking back at you from the mirror is no more than 12, fuzzy cheeked, with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles over his nose. It is a familiar face, but not the one you saw this morning when you shaved. Even your clothes are different, now a striped T-shirt and jeans with sneakers.
Then you remember the black and white photo. Looking up at the wall, you realize that the same 12-year-old face is in the photograph! The barber brushes off your shoulders and then helps you down. "What did you do to me?" Your voice is a kid's as well. "This is impossib..." You feel confused. The shop is different. The picturs are all old fashioned, and when you look outside, the streets are full of antique cars. And the poeple are wearing weird clothes, like an old movie.
"What's the matter, Tommy?" The barber smiles. "Shouldn't you get home and get started on your paper route?"
Paper route? Tommy? Then slowly, you 'remember' that your name is Tommy Winslow, you are 12 years old, and it's 1956. You still remember your past - or is it the future? But now you are a kid living about thirty years before you were born!
You nod and go outside automatically, doing what 'Tommy' would do. You can control your actions, but it seems easy to simply be this fifties kid.