When Beauty Rears Its Ugly Head
Daylight crept stealthily from the sky into obscurity, far beyond the furthest horizon, as stars appeared one by one across the darkening azure. Sharon rushed about her new home in a frenzy, all thoughts concentrated on the diminishing time to finalise house-warming preparations before her guests would begin to arrive. ‘Have you arranged the music yet?,’ she barked at her obsequious fiance Ralf, who was rummaging through a pile of CDs spread pell-mell across the lounge room floor. He jumped to attention at the familiar strains resonating in his ear and mumbled, ‘Not yet dear,’ inaudibly beneath his breath before returning his mind to the hapless task of matching the disks to their covers. The crash of crockery smashing on the hard kitchen floor accompanied the doorbell ringing as the first guests arrived. Sharon leapt into action removing all trace of the scattered remnants of incompetence and strode for the door to cordially welcome her guests. ‘G’day Shazza, how are you sweetheart?,’ screeched her closest friend Cheryl characteristically before charging through the front door and planting a kiss on the plump cheek of her hostess. ‘Good thanks darl, did you find the place alright?,’ replied Sharon in a direct attempt to shift the conversation to her new house. ‘Yeah no prob’s love; I found it first time. It certainly is a beaut house - a real little corker. Give me the grand tour.’ The girls proceeded to wander about the house from room to room, Sharon all the while explaining the obvious to a pair of indifferent ears. The inspection predictably finished in the kitchen as the girls proceeded to fiddle with arranging an assortment of nibbles spread across the dining table. ‘Oh I just love the house Shaz; you’ve really done well for yourself,’ complimented Cheryl as she scampered from one corner of the kitchen to the other, hopefully inspecting the room for visible flaws. ‘Thanks Chezza but it’s really not much,’ she replied in feigned abashment to veil her angling for further compliments. ‘No, I really mean it Shaz, you’ve got it all. You’ve just been promoted to Assistant Deli manager at the supermarket, you drive the fastest Commodore in town, and now you’re going to marry Ralphy who’s easily the best looking bloke at the pub. I really envy you mate,’ Cheryl said as her stature began to noticeably sink. ‘Oh thanks Chez, you really are my best mate. But don’t worry things are bound to work out alright for both of us, you just wait and see. You’re definitely much better off now without that cheating dog Tommy - that is for certain.’ At the pronunciation of THAT name, a name Cheryl wished she had never heard nor would ever hear again, she dissolved into tears and collapsed into Sharon’s beckoning arms. Ralf appeared at the kitchen door and announced in a triumphant tone, ‘All sorted babe and rearing to go.’ ‘Geez Ralfy can’t you see we’re in the middle of something important here,’ sniped Sharon as Ralf respectfully retreated into the lounge from whence he came. ‘That bloke is such an idiot sometimes I swear Chez; you’re much better off without one that’s what I say.’ ‘You don’t mean that or have you forgotten what it’s like to be alone in the world with nobody to love you; it’s worse than death,’ replied Cherryl between sobs. ‘There’s gonna be plenty of guys here tonight Chez and I promise I’ll set you up with one of them. You’re a good looking girl that always manages to turn a head or two so you’ll be ‘right. You’re certainly no plain Jane and if Shirley can pull a fella anyone can,’ proclaimed Sharon with relationship wisdom inherent in those that are betrothed. Cheryl leaped from the comfort of Sharon’s arms to attention at this annunciation. ‘What Shirley - A fella?,’ she exclaimed in disbelieving horror. The eyes from which tears streamed moments before narrowed and a dark green shade effused Cheryl’s normally pallid brow. She sat silently for a moment in deep consternation as the pressure of her thoughts grew and ultimately broke the dam of silence that had filled the air. ‘When did all this happen? Why didn’t you tell me? What’s he like? Where did she meet him?,’ she accosted Sharon with a new found vigour. Sad thoughts of her own plight had been swept aside with the flood of latest news. ‘Now, now Chez don’t have a cow, I only just found out myself today when she asked if she could bring a date tonight. I don’t have any other details ‘cause I haven’t seen Shirl for yonks so I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.’ ‘I just can’t believe she’s got a guy and I don’t. In all the years I’ve known her, right through high school ‘til now, I’ve never known a bloke to pay her any attention - not even in a drunken stupor with beer goggles glued to his head!’ Sharon laughed with delight at her friends insensitivity and attempted to restore sensibility and perspective to her growing mania by replying, ‘Now, now let’s not be so cruel, after all every pot is bound to have a lid that fits. It’s high time Shirley got herself a fella and good on her that’s what I reckon!’ ‘Oh of course,’ Cheryl retreated, ‘it’s not that I’m not happy for Shirl, the dear girl, it’s just that the shock of the news has taken me a little bit by surprise.’ ‘Glad to hear it,’ reciprocated Sharon with a nod of approval, ‘because I’m depending on you to help make her fella feel welcome in my home tonight.’ ‘Why naturally I’m really looking forward to meeting him and sussing out all the goss,’ said Cheryl staring right through Sharon into the oblivion of her mind. ‘Good; I’m glad we got that settled, now help me get the chairs ready before the other guests arrive because it’s just too much to ask Ralfy to make himself useful for a change,’ announced Sharon raising her voice so that she could be heard all over the house. Guests were scattered throughout the house in small pockets of familiarity and overflowed out into the cramped backyard, where some chose to find sanctuary from the barrage of noise emanating from the stereo inside. The vast majority of guests had assembled in the lounge where Ralf split his duties between playing his favourite tracks on the CD player and tending a make-shift bar comprising of a garbage bin filled with crushed ice and tinnies. Cheryl kept a vigil from the corner of the lounge room eagerly eying the front door at each new arrival. ‘There you are you duffer; I’ve been looking out for you everywhere,’ announced Sharon as she approached Cheryl through the throng of guests crowding the makeshift dance floor in the centre of the darkened room. ‘What are you doing hiding here in the corner?’ ‘I’m not hiding!,’ Cheryl retorted without removing her gaze from the front door. ‘I’m simply taking a break from dancing because the music is crap.’ ‘That Ralfy and his bloody heavy metal; come and help me choose some good songs to play,’ said Sharon. ‘No, it’s okay I just want to hang out here. What time did Shirl say she was going to get here?,’ asked Cheryl. ‘Oh I don’t know, she should be here any time because it’s getting near 10 and she’s usually pretty punctual. Maybe she had a fight with her new boyfriend and decided not to come or maybe he stood her up?’ ‘Do you think so?,’ inquired Cheryl hopefully as her gaze turned to Sharon for the first time in the conversation. Sharon burst into laughter at the transparent change in expression that crept across Cheryl’s face and replied, ‘No I don’t because here they are.’ She then proceeded to push her way through the revellers congesting the floor and headed directly toward the door with Cheryl in hot pursuit. An amiable smile crept across the countenance of Sharon as she approached Shirley who was floundering about in the doorway scouring the crowd for a familiar face. ‘Shirl, how are you darl’,’ she screamed in a wild fit of pretentiousness. ‘Good thanks Shaz; really tops. There’s someone here that I want you to meet,’ Shirley replied with characteristic nervousness before winding herself into an excitable frenzy and announcing at the top of her voice for all those surrounding her to hear, ‘Allow me to introduce you to my boyfriend Barry.’ Barry turned his peripatetic glance from the street to his hostess at the annunciation of his name. Sharon started in amazement at the sight that met her eyes. Before her stood a fashionably dressed man of athletic stature with intelligent blue eyes, a perfect ivory smile, shiny brown hair, and a long, filthy, ungroomed beard that would near reach down to his belly button. She was transfixed at the natural peculiarity that held her gaze like stunned game in a spotlight. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Sharon drawled out unconvincingly, habitually offering her hand as a token gesture. ‘And I’m Shirley’s good friend Cheryl,’ added Cheryl also squeezing his hand, her claws now fully retracted and a smile of bemusement replacing the scowl that had been previously tattooed across her face. ‘It’s very nice to finally meet you both; Shirl has told me so many wonderful things about you,’ rejoined Barry in a pleasant manner. An uncomfortable silence permeated the air as Sharon and Cheryl stood in awe of the bearded man before them. ‘What do you do for a crust Baz?,‘ questioned Shirl to initiate conversation and abate the rapidly freezing temperature in the hallway. ‘He’s a research scientist,’ interjected Shirl on his behalf, ‘and he works in viruses and bugs.’ ‘Oh how interesting,’ commented Cheryl with genuine intrigue whilst batting her eyelids in an attempt to endear Barry to her, ‘that does sound hazardous.‘ ‘No; not really. Well no more dangerous than living in the modern world which is in itself becoming a very dangerous business. These days it appears that if we don’t die from this, we’ll most surely die from that, and it seems people are unable to accept the fact that at the end of the day we’re all going to die from something.’ Once more silence pervaded the group left pondering the enigmatic statement thrust upon them by the scientist. ‘Why don’t you get yourself a drink from my husband Ralfy at the bar over there,’ Sharon suggested to Barry, pointing out Ralf who was demonstrating his prowess opening a stubby with his teeth to a couple of adorning fans. ‘This will give us girls a chance to catch up for old times sake.’ Barry nodded in approbation before confidently manoeuvring through the crowd to collect a beer from the make-shift bar. ‘Well, what do you think?,’ asked Shirley, beaming from ear to ear, and incapable of suppressing her felicity any longer. ‘He’s very smart,’ offered Sharon. ‘And he’s got a good job,’ added Cheryl. The gaggle fell silent as Sharon and Shirley exchanged glances and then smirks. ‘What is it you two? Tell me immediately!,’ demanded Shirley becoming annoyed at being left out of the joke. ‘Well Barry seems very nice but I have to know Shirl - what is with the beard?’ quoth Cheryl. ‘I think it’s very distinctive!,’ defended Shirley with a quavering voice. ‘Well so is a Mohawk but only socially and mentally dead people would venture to wear one,’ rejoined Cheryl with conviction. ‘Bite your tongue Chezza,’ shouted Sharon in defence of a red faced Shirley who was evidently fighting back tears of anger. ‘Beards are not all that bad and in fact I think they make a man like Barry look very distinguished.’ ‘No, she’s quite right Shaz, it’s feral. I’ve begged him to shave or at least trim his overgrown whiskers down to a respectable length but he will not budge. He says his beard "is very practical" and he "had it when I met him and I should just accept him the way he is." I guess he’s probably right but I must confess that I absolutely despise it.’ ‘It’s a real pity Shirl ‘cause I reckon there’s a handsome bloke buried deep beneath that mass of facial fur,’ said Cheryl with an intonation of genuine sympathy. The sentiments of Shirley’s two best friends weighed heavily upon her head and her heart. She found her way to the corner of the lounge and wiled away the hours, pensively musing about how happy she would be if Barry would only remove his mask. The cheap champagne in her hand compounded these thoughts as she stared at Cheryl on the dance floor, playfully picking at Barry’s beard, teasing him and giggling as she jumped around him in a drunken frenzy. Shirley’s temper escalated with the sound of Cheryl’s laughter over the booming stereo as she audaciously continued to mock him right before her eyes. Barry staggered about the dance floor indifferently, knocking into the only other couple left dancing, and emitting a smile of satisfaction with the realisation he had averted spilling the contents of his stubby on the plush pile carpet. Ralf suddenly switched off the music and drawled out at the top of his voice in a moment of inspiration, ‘Who’s up for a game of Truth or Dare?’ Cheryl yelped with delight and eagerly replied, ‘Only if you let me go first Ralfy boy.’ ‘No worries Chez,’ said Ralf obligingly as the remaining party goers arranged themselves in the lounge suite surrounding the room, ‘Truth or Dare?’ Cheryl’s eyes darted skyward as she pondered the many possibilities of her fated choice. ‘I’ll think I’ll choose Truth,’ she slurred in response with little hesitation. ‘Okay then; are you going to sleep with your new boyfriend tonight on your first date?,’ asked Ralf mistakenly pointing toward Barry who was involuntarily cuddled up next to Cheryl on the crowded sofa. Shirley’s blood began to boil as she considered how her Barry had been confused for just another one of Cheryl’s one-night stands. Her eyes were fixed on Cheryl from across the room where she remained standing as she anticipated the response with bated breath. Cheryl glanced at her momentarily and detected Shirley’s vexation before turning to Barry and announcing with quiet confidence, ‘Why of course not!’ She paused before a cheeky grin lit up her face and then confessed, ‘I never sleep with bearded men because they simply can’t be trusted to keep their mouth’s shut!’ The room erupted into merriment and Shirley relaxed, satisfied with the response given by her friend. Sharon appeared from the kitchen and screamed at the top of her voice, ‘Ralfy; you’re not playing one of your stupid party games again are you? I’ve told you before that I don’t like them because they always result in trouble so why don’t you make yourself useful and put the music back on!’ ‘Oh come on dear, there’s no harm in it, we’re just having a little bit of fun,’ mumbled Ralf, his confidence partially restored by the alcohol on his breath. ‘Yeh lighten up Shaz,’ pleaded Cheryl, ‘it’s only a bit of mindless entertainment. Besides I’ve just had my turn and now I get to choose the next player.’ ‘Alright Chez you can nominate somebody for one last turn but after that, the tunes must return.’ Cheryl deliberately glanced around the room, seeking out the victim which would yield the group most sport. Her eyes rested upon Barry as he was without doubt the easiest target. He was a stranger to the group, he was very drunk and of course he had an eyesore of a beard just staring everybody in the face. ‘I nominate you Barry - Truth or Dare,’ she announced to the room of eager ears. Barry blushed in amazement and recalled the candour with which Cheryl had spoken to the group. He was a very reserved person by nature, particularly around strangers, and so with some degree of hesitation he yielded to the cheers and announced the fateful decision, ‘Dare.’ The group fell silent as they scoured their brain for ideas. ‘Get him to run up and down the street naked,’ suggested one voice, ‘or no, how about getting him to eat dog food,’ suggested another. Barry cringed with each new demand until finally Shirley blurted out a dare of distinction, the dare of all dares, a dare that left Barry writhing in pain beneath the weight of laughter and cheers. ‘I dare you to shave off your ridiculous beard Barry!’ ‘No way, not the beard,’ he pleaded, ‘if you love me you wont make me do it.’ Shirley steadied herself with resolve as thoughts of her friends earlier comments cheered her on to victory, and so she announced, ‘Come off it Barry stop being so melodramatic. That beard gets on my goat and it’s high time it disappeared.’ Barry shook his head slowly in disbelief, entranced by the fiery tone of a normally sedate Shirley, took a deep breath, and announced to the raucous onlookers, ‘Very well then, so it shall be done.’ Rapturous guffaw pierced the early morning air as Ralf triumphantly led Barry into the bathroom to be shorn. Nervous anticipation filled the room as he was meticulously groomed for parade in the ensuing minutes. A unified gasp of astonishment was exhaled as the bathroom door opened and Adonis draped in Barry’s clothes came forth through the hallway and into the lounge. Cheryl’s eyes narrowed in disbelief, and envy was restored to her heart as she gazed upon the perfect masculine facial features that had been concealed behind the shroud of secrecy. ‘You look absolutely gorgeous announced Shirley,’ as she draped her arms around him with pride, ‘Now what was all the fuss about?’ ‘Things are not always as they appear my dear,’ Barry mumbled ominously with a touch of sorrow in his voice, ’the enemy of good is better and I lament the fact you could not be satisfied with what you had.’ Shirley shook her head in disbelief and reaffirmed, ‘Don’t be ridiculous; the improvement is indisputable now lets get a drink to celebrate.’ Cheryl and a rival girl also remaining at the party swooned around Barry flirtatiously exhibiting all manner of coquetry to vie for his attention. Their efforts were in vain however as he gazed into oblivion, consumed with thoughts and alcohol. He was exposed and naked, once more the unwilling centre of attention far removed from the solitude of the research environs in which he thrived. Memories of broken relationships forged in lust unleashed pangs of terror in his heart. Shirley had falsely lured him from his solace with the prospect of something better, a woman that would be blinded by love rather than looks, and who could bore beneath the shallow facade of skin to appreciate him for his true inner beauty. ‘I thought she was different but I guess I was mistaken,’ Barry mused as he felt the hatred surge inside him for his Delilah. Sharon and Shirley were meanwhile engaged in conversation at the other end of the lounge room. ‘Barry certainly looks much better without his beard,’ observed Sharon, ‘I can hardly believe he’s the same man I met earlier this evening.’ ‘I know,’ Shirley reaffirmed. ‘I always new he was attractive but had no idea he was so good looking. I feel as though all my Christmas’ have come at once.’ ‘You can say that again, just look at the girls knocking themselves out to get his attention.’ ‘Do you think so?,’ inquired Shirley worryingly. ‘Oh dear you’ve got nothing to fret about, it’s obvious he only has eyes for you.’ Shirley glanced at Barry and noticed him staring directly at her blankly. She nodded to extract some indication of life from him, but was disappointed as he continued his hollow lovelorn glance, and so she nervously returned to her drink for the reassurance and comfort she required. The guests disappeared one by one as the early hours of the morning passed by and Dawn crept from her night time sanctuary to shed another layer of light on the waiting world below. Silence and the stale smell of beer filled the air whilst sleeping bodies lay strewn across the lounge room furniture. Sharon entered the room and walked over to the couch where Shirley lay curled up with her head concealed beneath a pillow which proved to be her only insulation from the hangover she would bear this day. ‘Wakey wakey time to rise and shine,’ Sharon announced in her most annoying high pitched voice as she shook the lifeless corpse before her. ‘Go away,’ was the muffled response from beneath the cushion. ‘Car’n Shirl it’s time to get fired up,’ Sharon persisted. ‘Where’s Barry this morning? Did he go home last night?’ The sound of Barry’s name drew Shirley to her feet as she rubbed her eyes and recollected her thoughts. The events of the evening prior snowballed into her consciousness and she became agitated recalling the shaving of the beard. ‘Oh my goodness,’ Shirley exclaimed, ‘what on earth have I done?’ ‘What do you mean?,’ asked Sharon. ‘I had no right to make him shave his beard last night. It’s all my fault,’ admitted Shirley beginning to show genuine concern for Barry for the first time. ‘Come off it Shirl let’s not be stupid. If you told him to jump off a cliff do you think he would do it? Let’s find him and all will be forgotten - you’ll see.’ ‘I wonder where he is?,’ Shirley continued as she walked to the window and checked for Barry’s car in the street. ‘His car is here so I wonder where he could be?’ ‘ I saw Barry go into the spare room last night if you’re looking for him,’ Ralf said obligingly as he entered the lounge room through the hallway. Shirley nearly knocked him over on his way through the door. She burst into the spare room and screamed out in wild hysterics before retreating out into the street. Sharon entered the hallway and glanced into the room to see what had produced the singular reaction. Barry lay curled up in the double bed sleeping with Cheryl comfortably tucked up under his arm. Cheryl raised her weary head at the commotion, drew a deep breath and returned to her repose with a smile of contentment. Sharon calmly turned to Ralf saying in disgust, ‘This is all your fault Ralfy; you really are such an idiot!,’ before sauntering through the door to the aid of her grief stricken friend.
Copyright © 2001 Bradley Postma |