"Will she actually believe that I was trying to find help after the barbershop I got my haircut in might have caught on fire? Also the possibility that the lady cutting my hair may have died?," He kept asking himself. 
He did leave the house with the intent of getting his haircut, at Lisa's request. It had been late but he was sure that he could find a salon that was open late, and set out along Cameron Street to see if some willing lady could give him a quick trim. He told Lisa he would meet her at the bar later, and now he was almost two hours late. 
"This story is just too bizarre but she has a right to know the truth," He decided, and suddenly began to reflect on the eerie and strange events that transpired over the past few hours. 

 It was about 6:30 when Lisa suggested Ed and her go out for a drink. That was when Lisa suggested he get his hair trimmed. 
"It is sort of late but you're right, I do need a trim, I'll see if I can find a salon that's open." 
"Oh I'm sure someone is open, there are a lot of places along Cameron Street and some salons have a men's night where they stay open later, so if you hurry you may be in luck," Lisa replied, adding, "then we can meet for a drink, and try not to be late." She told him. 
"I'll try," He answered, laughing and kissing her good-bye as he left for Cameron Street. 
The street looked as if it too was getting ready to close. 

"Boy they pull up the sidewalks early around here don't they?" He thought to himself. 
As much as Ed enjoyed Lisa's company, and remained loyal to her and her only, he could not resist getting his haircut by an attractive female hairstylist. He never allowed a male hairstylist to cut his hair, and sometimes he would go as far as to scope out a new salon several days before venturing in. First he would check out the personnel to see if any men were employed there, if so, he took his interests elsewhere. The thought of cheating on Lisa never crossed his mind either, for him these haircuts were platonic and just for excitement. He had given up asking Lisa to cut his hair after she repeatedly turned him down telling him she didn't have a clue about how to cut hair. After urging her and urging her, he finally gave up. Sex with Lisa was a trip to Shangri-La, as she caressed his naked body and ran her tongue over every inch of  his bare flesh that she could moisten. He loved her shapely body, the tight jeans, shirts and sweaters she wore. What he embellished most of all, was her naked, statuesque body, covered only by her raven hair which barely covered her breasts, when she laid provocatively across the bed just before the hours of torrid lovemaking that followed.  He knew no other person could satisfy him to the heights of desire that Lisa could. 

 Just when he thought all was lost, he turned and noticed an old Victorian style house, that was still lit up. The house was an ornate Queen Anne style architecture in appearance, with a huge porch decorated with elegant fretwork that also garnished the whole house with a delicate garland of lattice work adorning the gables and roof of the house as well. Though it was dark, he was pretty sure the house was painted blue and the trim was painted white. The front doors, mostly made of glass were intricately carved with frosted floral designs and emitted a warm tan color as though candles were lit throughout the house. What really grabbed his attention was that behind a white curtain, he distinctly saw the silhouette of a woman cutting hair, and it appeared that she was finishing up with that particular customer now. Deciding not to risk going further, he walked towards the house, hoping she felt like having one more customer. While walking up the stairs, he stumbled and fell. Catching himself on the elaborate banister, he quickly regained his step and proceeded to enter the house. Everything about the house looked very old fashioned, even the lighting, which resembled the replicas of antique lights that Lisa adored so much. These lights however seemed authentic, with the bulbs giving off a soft sepia tint, the filaments burned inside their clear walls like fireflies caught in a jar. The ceiling also looked like the one he'd seen in the local hardware store, a tin ceiling, I think the older gentleman called it, when he remarked how it brought back reflections of his childhood when he went in there with his father. This ceiling looked a little more decadent and floral, each ceiling light was encircled in a ring of floral moldings, and guided Ed through the fresco, and to the room where he saw the light from outside. 

"Even the wall sconces look Victorian. I get it, this is one of those nostalgia places, oh well the haircut may be a little more expensive but it will be worth it," He said to himself as he approached the door. Noticing the customer had gone, he glanced around the room where an attractive lady, wearing an 1890's style dress was cleaning around an old barber chair.  A broach, perhaps a cameo, adorned her lace collar, further giving the impression she was living in another century. She looked to Ed and smiled, and he could swear he saw right through her, as if he were looking through wax paper. 
"I'm not too late am I? I just need a trim, but if you're closing, I can come back tomorrow." 
"I won't hear of it, have a seat and I will be right with you," she replied. Even her voice seemed distant, Ed thought. It was as if she were speaking softly in a cave. Dismissing the thought, he sat and waited as this rather attractive but oddly dressed lady cleaned up. 
"It's probably the uniforms the stylists wear," he assured himself, and added, thinking, "it's probably like of a retire thing of some sort, she is kind of pretty anyway and it will definitely be different." 
He noticed that even her steps seemed muffled, as if she were not even touching the floor, again another thought he soon dismissed. He did however stare around and admire the tools laid about the countertop where she worked, they too looked antiquated, and he noticed that no clippers were plugged in. 

"Wow, you really are consistent with authenticity here, I noticed you either don't use electric clippers or you keep them placed out of sight so the shop looks like a real old fashioned barber shop. I must say, you do have a nice shop here." Ed remarked. 
"Thank you," she smiled, calling him to the chair, and draping the striped barber cape around his neck. Leaning the chair back, she proceeded to wet his head, using not a sprayer but a pitcher of water. Making sure the water was not either too hot or cold, she adjusted the spigots on the porcelain sink so as the water would be lukewarm. 
"Boy you do stick to accuracy here don't you. You don't even use a spray hose, this is probably the most unique salon I've been in," he commented. 

Looking puzzled at his statement she lathered his head, and again rinsed the shampoo off with the pitcher of water. As he was being raised, the touch of her hand sent a shock through him, causing him to jump, her touch was frigid, even after her hand had been touching the tepid water. 
"Didn't meant to startle you," She apologized in a soft whisper. 
"Not a problem, just the cold, wet touch of your hand startled me that's all," He replied 
Giving him a sad but friendly smile, she picked up her shears and began cutting his hair, carefully using the comb as a guide as to how much she was cutting off. Everything about his haircut was real, the cape around his neck, and his hair as it hit the cape and the wood floor. He could hear her scissors cutting quickly and with ease, metamorphosize his whole appearance. Looking in the mirror in front of him, he noticed not only his hair getting shorter and more stylish, but he couldn't see her reflection in the mirror. Although he tried to dismiss this as just the fact that the mirror was small enough to see himself only, he couldn't get over the fact that this was probably the strangest salon he had ever visited. 

 She continued to cut, his hair looked like beetles scurrying down the cape and on to the floor. She was cutting, he was sure of that, and she was doing a good job of it, what troubled him was the weird feeling that he still saw through her. He was sure of this when she stood in front of him and began shaping up the crown and sides of his head. Bathed in a soft sepia glow he felt as if an old tin type photograph had come to life. The Light overhead and the lily shaped sconces on the wall gleamed softly bathing both him and her in a resplendent brown enclosure. Her dress was highlighted well in the light, her striped full length apron looked very proper as did her lace bodice, and her broach was in fact a cameo. 
She combed and cut the top and sides perfectly he thought, considering the tools she was using. She started cutting the back, and since his head was down, he could not see himself in the mirror, though he did try to see if she cast a reflection. The shears sang in her hand as she cut along the nape of his neck, he could hear every clear note as they snipped through his wet hair freeing it to cascade to his shoulders and to the floor behind him. 
Glancing into the mirror, he admired her work and complimented her, she smiled warmly, and picked up a straight razor from a small tray with some liquid in it and began to shave his neck and shape up the rest of his hair, again using the comb as a guide. Taking a small brush, she cleaned his neck and shoulders and offered to give him a quick shave. 
"Boy, you sure do go to all extents to make this place a real vintage shop don't you. I've never been in a shop that offered shaves, and even though I don't go to men barbers or hair stylists, I don't think even barbers do that anymore." 
"I'll be glad to do it for you sir," She replied quietly. Reaching up from under the cape, he did feel some stubble. 

"Go for it," He told her, again, she gave him a confused look, as if she didn't understand that particular expression. After tilting the chair back, she went over to a strange old fashioned looking contraption. The best way to describe this device was that it looked like a giant bronze eye, it even had a sliding door that resembled an eyelid. Lifting this, she brought out a hot white towel and placed it over his face for a few minutes. Removing the towel, she then took a mug with a frothy cream and lathered his face with a short brush. Looking up, he could see her plain but very attractive features. This time she did not seem so translucent, her hair was even arranged on top similar to the pictures he has seen of women at that time. Her complexion, was quite clear and she had a touch of pink in her cheeks. She had an attractive smile, but he still couldn't get over the fact that there was a touch of sorrow in her expression. 
Nervously he watched her pull out another razor from the tray of liquid, which he decided was a disinfectant of some kind, and bring it down to his neck. 

"This is  a little too spooky for me," He thought, "What if this woman is some psychotic about to slit my throat?"  He tried to speak but couldn't, expressionless she brought the razor closer and closer to his throat, until he could feel the steel against his skin. 
"It's all right, I'm well adept with this," She assured him, even her gentle voice seemed to arrest his own trepidation. She moved the blade with careful precision as if she were shaving a balloon and trying not to make it burst. Each scrape left a smooth swath in the razor's wake. When she placed her hand on his right cheek to move his head, her touch  still had that cold clammy feeling, like a moist breeze felt at night after a torrential rainstorm in the beginning of Spring. She finished shaving his right side, and quickly started on the left side, once she was done, she took another hot towel from the metallic "eye" and wiped off the rest of the lather on his face and put the chair back up. With a few more finishing wipes with the towel at the nape and face, she undid the cape, where a few small clumps of  hair fell to the floor. Ed, being slow at first, got up from the chair and reached for his wallet. 
"I must say this is quite an unusual business you have here. I think you'll do well, I know I'll be back, by the way I didn't get your name, in case I want to make an appointment with you again." 
"Bernice Danvers," she answered solemnly, staring down at the twenty dollar bill he held in his hand. 
"Ten cents sir." 
"Huh! Did I hear you correctly...a dime?" 
"That's correct," She answered 
Shrugging, he dug into his pocket and handed Bernice a dime, " This is some promotional thing right? Pretty neat idea but if you want to survive, you'll have to jack up those prices soon," He said with a laugh and headed for the door. 
"Have a good night, and I'll see you in a few months," Ed called, as he exited the house. 
Out on the porch, he thought, "I should give her a tip, five bucks should do it, I can't believe I forgot to do that, she should still be cleaning up, I'll just go in and give it to her." 

Turning around, he noticed the house was dark, which he thought was strange, what worried him further was that upon closer examination, the carved glass doors were cracked and broken. The whole porch, even the trimmings seemed to have aged almost a hundred years in a matter of seconds. He experienced a greater shock when he opened the door. Everything was charred and burned, holes were chopped into the walls and the lights, both the overhead lights and  the wall sconces were sooty, and looked as if some of the bulbs have exploded. He immediately went to where Bernice cut his hair and saw that the shop, which was once shimmering in a bright tan bath, was gutted and sooty as if a fire had been here too. The chair appeared to have been badly burned and all the tools that were laid neatly along the counter before were strewn around the floor like some useless bric a brac. 
"What the hell is going on here?," He wondered. He immediately walked several blocks to the firehouse to ask about the fire on 626 Cameron Street. He couldn't get a straight answer from anyone there, he was even given some strange side glances by the older members of the department when he mentioned getting a haircut there. 

He had the same results at the police station, and looking at the clock he realized he was almost two hours late in meeting Lisa, he knew she would be upset, but this time he had a good  excuse and walked as quickly as possible to the local bar, where he told her the story. 
"Let me get this straight!," She said, angrily, "You are late because you got your haircut by some ghostly Gibson Girl, is that what you're telling me?" 
"Danvers was the name Bernice Danvers, and I'm not sure what she is, but I do know she is missing." 
"You must forgive me for not believing you," She answered sarcastically, "But at least you give some excuse no matter how far fetched some of them have been in the past. If this is an example of how life will be after we're married then maybe we should reconsider." 
A customer, an older gentleman who couldn't help but overhear introduced some interesting information. 
"626 Cameron Street you say? I remember my grandfather telling me the story about  the day that place caught on fire. Bernice Danvers did in fact have a barbershop in that house, her husband, involved in the railroad business was quite liberal minded for men in those days, and had no qualms about Bernice having a trade. As you already know she was a barber and quite popular." 
By now the man had both Ed and Lisa's full attention as he continued, "Their house was one of the first ones on that street to have electricity and indoor plumbing in those days. Back then it was only well to do families and prosperous businesses that could afford it. Unfortunately it was also the first electrical fire in this area as well. Seems one of the lights had a short in it, that and the possibility that it came in contact with water made Cameron Street History in an sad way. Both her and her husband died in the fire, and rumor has it that she was giving him a haircut at the time the fire started." 

Lisa and Ed looked at each other in silence, not really being sure of what to say to each other. 
"Her grave is near here at Dogwood Cemetery just a few miles from here and the local museum has artifacts on display that were salvaged from that house," the man concluded before leaving the couple and returning to the bar. 
Lisa was the first to speak, " Of all the times you've angered me, especially with your being late all the time, you have never lied to me, I would like to visit her grave and see the artifacts in the museum, if the artifacts you describe are there then maybe we can work things out." 
"Fine with me, let's go, we need to talk." They finished their drinks and left, he then noticed that his monogrammed handkerchief was missing, he didn't seem to care as he had many and focused on the more pertinent issues at hand.  They went home and talked until almost two in the morning. The next day, being Saturday and a bit cloudy, they decided to go to the cemetery first. 

Far in the back, her gravestone stood, white in color, and with the traditional willow tree and urn motif on the top of the stone, a motif that symbolized a family's sorrow and is frequently seen on many markers of that period. The plot was well cared for and the epitaph was even more caring, 
    Her tragic loss will be felt by all, 
    She was loved by her family and 
    well respected by the community. 
Beneath that was where they showed the date she had died. To their astonishment, the date read the same day yesterday, in the year 1900. Quickly they went to the museum and admired the many interesting artifacts that explained how the town's heritage began. It was Lisa who found the 626 Cameron Street Exhibit and looked for Ed. 
"Ed," she said softly, "I believe you now, will you forgive me for doubting you?" 
"Of  course," he answered, hugging her, "I'm the one who should be asking for forgiveness,  from now on, no more being late, I promise, did you find that exhibit?" 
"Yes, over here, you have to see this." 

In the display case many items were shown, some bottles, kitchen tools and some haircutting tools, but the most curious thing there was a monogrammed handkerchief with a small card indicating that this was the only item that didn't seem to belong to anyone in the house. At closer glance Ed recognized it right away when he saw the letters, E  C The initials for Ed Castle. It was his 
handkerchief.