The Black Hair Dye (11 of 15)
Someone bought the dye at Boots in Portadown on a Saturday afternoon. Not brown, not dark brown, but black—pure black. The kind that seemed to promise not just a change in appearance but a change in fundamental nature.
What follows is a story about minor rebellions and their consequences. In Belfast, a seventeen-year-old Mormon boy dyes his hair, staining every surface in the bathroom except his hair. He is concerned about his mother's anger when she finds out what he did. About the futility of scrubbing away evidence, and about the gap between the dramatic transformation we imagine and the barely noticeable change we actually achieve.
It's about being young in Belfast and trying to find some small space for self-determination within the tight parameters of expectation. About Halloween evenings visiting neighbors, penny buns, and prophecies delivered through parlor games. We leave permanent marks when we try to change ourselves.
Episode 11 of the Northern Irish short story series. Audio and transcript available.
