The Tale of A Black Man

After their wedding, Dave and Mary opened a barber shop. With a few hundred dollars from their bank savings they bought the instruments and necessary furnishings, some with cash and others in installments.

Dave and Mary worked diligently and tirelessly to improve the shop from within and without. To draw attention, they themselves painted the floor and the windows after washing and scraping day and night. Mary cut and fashioned flowers and decorative ornaments out of colorful paper, hanging brightly colored pictures appropriate for a barbershop. It was hard to recognize her, the striking blond soiled and unkempt exactly like a hired maid.

When all was done, a sign painter came and painted up the big shiny front window in bright golden letters with the inscription in English: “Dave Grossman’s Barber Shop.” Then they waited for customers.

At first the barbershop was empty, as if all the men had vanished from the big bustling city. Dave would stand at the doorway wrapped in his white smock, his hair washed and combed, and chain-smoking cigarettes out of boredom, staring at every passerby inquisitively and, finally, becoming very irritated.

Mary was occupied arranging the two small rooms upstairs. From time to time, when the bell in the shop announced the door being opened, she left her work and hurried downstairs to see if it was a customer; but alas, it was only Dave.

—No one is coming.

And when his wife remained silent, he said, worrying:—I’m afraid we will need to move to another neighborhood.

So passed a few weeks. Finally, the hoped-for day arrived—a customer came...