Debra and Ron took a half day off from work to drive Lisa to the state sponsored treatment center. It had a fairly nice campus with a wide lawn. Debra thought about naked asses being chased downhill, orderlies tumbling to prevent patients from darting onto the freeway. Ron was just annoyed at the loss of an afternoon and evening. Weeks later, when the completely predictable phone call came, Donna and Ron made the return visit to the state facility. When Lisa came out to meet them, she looked so different – her skin was clearer, she wasn’t as thin, and her hands didn’t shake. All these things were worthy of notice. But before either Debra or Ron could make a positive comment, Debra sputtered, “What the hell happened to your hair?”
Lisa made no attempt at being bashful or apologetic. She made no effort at enthusiasm or contempt, either. In an astoundingly flat and direct way, Lisa stated “I cut it off.”
Ron shook his head and replied, “Yes, we can see that, Lisa.”
“Well, didn’t they give you a mirror, Honey?” said Debra.
Ron said, “I just want to know how you managed to get the fucking scissors this time.”