There are many who have fond memories of the town barber shop; a cozy place with one or two of the big, specialized chairs stationed in front of a low counter with a hair-washing sink or two and an over-mirror.  Aligned side by side along one wall might be five or six naugahyde seats supposedly reserved for waiting customers, but just as likely occupied by men just wanting to visit.  And presiding over it all was the barber; affable, knowledgable, nosey and hopefully discrete. Into this bastion of maleness came a steady stream of stories; some sad, some hilarious, some truthful, other slightly shaded, and some downright bullpucky. This is the story of such a shop, only one of the chairs in this little establishment offered a special twist.  It was a fact known to only three people, but anyone seated on that chair shared every thought they had with the barber.  He'd long ago decided to do nothing with any information he gathered, a matter of honoring his grandfather who had given him the chair and so admonished him.  But what if he learns something that will destroy his beloved town and harm his friends?     

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