A screeching wheelie from the motorscooter's tyres on the backyard paving stones shattered the rare moment of peace and quite in the Quentin household. Kirk's father had threatened to confiscate the keys of the sixteenth birthday present motorscooter if he continued to use the paving as a skid pan. So why was Kirk risking losing his wheels? His father was just preparing to impound the keys as Kirk burst through the kitchen at the speed of light. Before Kevin, his father, could open his mouth, Kirk yelled at the top of his voice. "I've got it! I've got!" "What, mumps, measles, an unmentionable social disease", teased his sister Cheryl. "I knew you'ld catch something nasty before long". "You'll catch my boot if you don't stop doing wheelies in the yard Kirk my boy. Hand over those keys", Dad jumped in before Kirk could answer his sister with a suitable retort. "No! No!", he yelled again. "What'd mean 'no'? The keys Kirk", insisted Kevin. "What's all the excitement in my kitchen?" Mum walked in from the living room and closed the screen door which had jammed open with Kirk's energetic entrance. "I got it! I got the part", Kirk told them all calming down just a little. "Got what part? Not something more for that Italian mini-motorbike. It's got enough junk on it now". His sister was not about to lose the advantage. "Good enough for you to hitch a ride Cheryl. No! I got the part in the musical". Kirk almost shouted again. Light dawned on the family. The high school was staging an end of year production as usual. Even though Kirk had rubbished the idea of performing in the school theatre group, he had secretly auditioned. He knew he had a good strong singing voice and had already decided to take acting lessons in the part of the summer break, Well that was his plan. Things were to change. "You mean to say that you actually are going to perform on stage... in public? You, Kirk Quentin, who wouldn't even wear fancy dress to Cheryl's birthday party because your mates might think you'ld lost the plot", quizzed his mother with a proud smile.   "Yes. Well..." "So what's the show this year? Hansel and Gretel? What are you? The tail end of the wolf?" Cheryl wanted to know. Kirk smiled. Not at his sister's humour, but at the news he was about to tell them. "The King & I". "Well that's one of our favourites, your mother and I. Suppose we'll have to book seats", from Dad. "What part have you got dear? The chorus? The son? Well don't keep us in suspense. What are you playing?" Mum couldn't contain herself. "The King", Kirk answered almost in a whisper. "The King! Kirk really? The King. Fabulous. My brother the King of Siam. No really. Congratulations" Cheryl ran over to her brother and kissed him on the cheek. No one said anything more for a long moment. Kirk's mother and father suddenly realised that their son must have a great deal more talent than they were aware. It was no mean feat to be cast in the school musical, and to win the leading role in a school production famous over years as the best with the most talented casts outside the professional theatre. The shows usually gave the stars hero status in the district. "I suppose this means I shouldn't confiscate the Vespa keys. Ah? That's sensational son. The leading role. Fantastic". Dad could not have been more proud. His mother just hugged him, too emotional to risk a word. "Hey! Wait a minute." Cheryl shattered the moment. They all looked at her. "The King is bald. Kirk, you'll have to shave your head to be the King. Like Yul Brynner". Kirk eyed at her in horror. Mum and dad looked at each other, not quite knowing how to respond. "No way. I'm not going to shave my head", stated Kirk with emphasis. "Does the director know his king is going to have long curly blond hair? That'll be a new theatrical experience", advised Cheryl with a certain amount of satisfaction. "Kirk, you won't have to shave your beautiful hair, will you. You've got such nice hair", his mother pleaded. "It's not long, well not too long any way. I didn't think about this when they gave me the part. Will I really have to be bald?. No way!" "What ever happened to being true to your art?" Kevin asked, more than half seriously. He ruffled is son's well groomed and attractive hair. "So what are you going to do? Turn down the part? Cheryl's right. You can't play the King of Siam with this mop. It needs a good cut anyway. "I can't turn down the part. I can't! I want to do theatre in college as well as architecture." This was the first time his family had heard of his intention - the second major surprise in a couple of minutes. Kirk combed his hair back into shape with his fingers after his father had messed it. "Mum, Dad. What am I going to do? I'll never get a chance like this again. The lead role in the best school production team there is. Has the King got to have no hair? Always? Could maybe I just spray it black, just a temporary rinse. Debbie could do that couldn't she .... glue it down flat. Would that do, do you think?" "Up to the director for the final decision. No I don't suppose the King of Siam was really totally bald. We've seen a lot of pictures on holidays in Bangkok remember? But if I were the director I would insist bald or nothing. The theatre tradition. A smooth skull may suit you. How are you going to do it son? Do you want me to do it for you? Or will you do it yourself or one of your mates. What about going to our barber and having him shave you super smooth. I'll shoot a video", teased his father. "Nobody's going to shave my head. I'll talk to Hal the director". He jammed his springy curls under his safety helmet, slammed out of the screen door, jumped onto his motorscooter and skidded out of the yard as fast as was game. His family waited until the sound of the bike faded and spontaneously burst out laughing. "I hope he doesn't have to cut off his lovely hair", lamented his mother, but she could swallow her mirth no longer. Hal Dauphine the director wasn't at the school. He wasn't at the auditorium. He wasn't at home. Kirk knew he would never walk away from the lead role in the musical, but he was just determined that he would not go bald. On the way home after his fruitless search for the director he called in to his girlfriend's place, just in case she was home from her part-time job at the beauty shop. Maybe she could make some sensible suggestion. Debbie had arrived home from the salon. She was just as proud that Kirk had scored the top job in the school musical, even though she realised she would be seeing less of him with all the rehearsals and wardrobe fittings and learning the part and everything. At least she could help him with his lines. They had planned a lot of time together over the holidays. It was a while before Kirk could bring himself to raise the subject of his hair. He knew she loved to run her fingers through it and try different styles, though he never did change. He would also never allow her to cut it. That was a job for Errol the Barber, who had groomed his hair from the first haircut as a toddler until now, from short to long. "Well, have you got any suggestions? You're supposed to be the hairdressing expert", Kirk wanted to know. "What's hairdressing got to do with it Kirky? If you have to shave your head you won't have any hair will you? I wonder what it will feel like to pat your smooth skull. Maybe I`ll like that," was best advise she could offer first up. "You reckon you'ld like that? Yeah! Well. Hey! No! I'm not having a totally bald head, even for you Debbs. She was parting his curls down to the scalp and running her fingers on the bared skin. "Will you stop that? No way. You've been a great help; I don't think". "Then you'll just have to talk Hal Dauphine into having a King of Siam with blond curly hair. But I don't like your chances. Besides you won't let me cut and style it, so you are on your own", teased Debbie. "OK, just think about it. Ask the girls at the salon. I might have to get it dyed or something". They spent a while in a deep and meaningful discussion whether she would still love him if he was bald, which, of course, he wouldn't be, even when he was old. But he was like a cat on a hot tin roof - the name of another play he wanted to be in sometime. When he got home the family purposely did not mention the possible head shaving, though words like "the bald truth", the Phantom's "skull ring", "cut-throat razor", "sheep shearing", "sailing clippers" did somehow sneak into the conversation. Kirk didn't bite. But before he went to bed he did spend a half an hour in front of the mirror in his locked bedroom, combing his hair back and holding his hands over his forehead trying to visualise what he would look like with all his hair gone. The idea of going bald did some how excite him, but he was too attached to his hair to consider it seriously, even though he realised playing the King of Siam was the best excuse he'd ever have to shave his head. Maybe he would. No. No way. Well maybe. Anyway, if he did do it, who would do it? Not his father. Not Debbie. But it would be fun with Debbie; a real turn on. But too embarrassing. He would have to do it himself with no one watching. Negative: he didn't have a clue how to go about it. It would have to be Errol the Barber. He'd ask him, if he could pluck up the courage, when he went for a haircut, which was well over due in any case; well maybe he would ask, only ask. But no. Not Bald! He still could not get used to the idea. The only one who could put his mind to rest was the director of the musical, Hal Dauphine. But what if he insisted that Kirk be as bald as Yul Brynner? God, what a decision. This was the biggest break in his life and it has to screwed up by having to make a decision to be, or not to be a skinhead. He fell asleep dreaming that he was in the court of Siam with Anna and the King. All the men were totally bald, and they were chasing him with giant razors to shave his head, making swipes and missing, but getting closer with each swat. He woke up in a sweat, grabbing for his hair. He got out of bed to search through the photographs the family had taken in Bangkok, looking for evidence of bald kings. He couldn't see any. At the same time he was quietly playing the sound track of the "King and I" from his dad's collection. Tiredness took over and Kirk went back to bed. This time he slept peacefully, with only the occasional dream scene of himself on stage singing he did not know what. The matter of hair did not seem to matter. Next morning after shampoo and conditioning he pulled his hair back severely while it was still wet, flattened it to his skull with a handful of gel and tied it as tight as he could get it into a stumpy pony tail, a sort of half way bald look if he squinted his eyes nearly closed. The first thing be had to do was to find Hal Dauphine, to discuss the part in the musical, not his hair problem, he tried to convince himself. Well it was true wasn't it? He did have start sorting out details of his first staring role. The hair agro was just part of it. Well it was. He was at the school auditorium an hour and a half before school started. Hal was pacing out the stage. "Ah! Here`s my new star. Keen to get started I'm glad to see. What the hell have you done with your curly locks Kirk?" was the greeting. "Yeah! Well..... Morning Mr Dauphine ..... That's, ar, that's what I wanted to talk to you about ....." "Hal now Kirk. The director and star bit. Forget the Mr Dauphine while we're in theatre mode. Not in the classroom just yet though." Hal held out his hand to Kirk and they shook on the introduction. "By the way, do you want to know who got the Anna part?" "Thank's Hal. Look, I can't stand it any longer ....." "Well?" Kirk lost his main chance. "Come on Coach. Who's my leading lady? Sorry. I didn't mean to sound big headed. Co-Star. No. I mean who's playing Anna?" "That's all right lad. Enjoy the staring role while you can. If you want sho-biz as a career like you told me, they may be few and far between. Though with your talent -." "Hal! Who is it. Not some dragon I hope. That why you're putting off telling me?" pleaded Kirk. "Jennifer Courtland", was the eventual answer. "You kidding. Yes!!! Jennifer Courtland. Every guy in school wants to date her. And I'll be with all through rehearsals and the show. Hal, I owe you." "Funny. That was about her reaction too", Hal half spoke his reply. "Wait a minute. I don't get to kiss her on stage do I? Just my luck. Can you write a few kisses in Hal?" "Not likely. But what you do in your own time is your own business. Well, no it's not really. You two behave yourselves. I don't want any more trouble with the production than the usual disasters with a school production". Before Kirk could answer, director Hal went on. "What were you all hot and bothered about when you burst in here a minute ago. Something about your new hairstyle was it?" "Um. Ar. Yes. Maestro", Kirk had been saving up this flattering title for the right moment, and this seemed as good as any, "the King of Siam, has be got to be bald? Not in all the paintings and murals I saw in Thailand." "Done your research, have you. Well I'd expect you would have. You always do in class. So that's what's spooking you Kirk. You're worried that the King has to have a shaved head. That right?" the director was teasing his young musical leading man. "Yul Brynner shaved his head for the role and stayed bald for the rest of his life". Kirk couldn't help glancing at himself in the rehearsal mirror. "But what about my king Hal? Has he got to be bald too?", pleaded Kirk. "You're right of course Kirk. The Siamese kings didn't necessarily have naked heads. Did you ever see the original film with Rex Harrison? He had hair." The answer gave Kirk a flash of hope. "But taking into account the tradition of the theatre, and what the audience expects, what would you tell you if you were me?" "Aw! Coach. Don't do that to me." "You want to be an actor. You've got to get used to making these decisions of appearance and discipline. Should your King be bald or not? I wasn't going to get into this until next week at the costume and make-up meeting. Do you want to leave this sub plot until then?" Hal offered a respite to the immediate decision. "No. You're right Hal. The king should be bald. Shit. I don't want to shave my head. No. Before you ask. There's no way I'll give up the part. Shit. Bald! I just don't want to cut all my hair off." "Good on you lad. You agree with me. I think your king should have no hair, even though I would be prepared to let you keep yours since this is an amateur production. But you're better than that, aren't you? You have the makings of a pro." "Shit. When have I got to shave it? Not for rehearsals have I? What kind of other style could I have? No. You're right Hal. I guess I've just got to get used to a bare head".