by R C Barnes
“You’re letting Todd pick up Echo from school,” I stated.
“So?”
“You don’t have Ollie on the emergency cards, and he’s been with the family for ten years.”
“Ollie has made it clear he doesn’t want any type of childcare responsibilities.”
I held my tongue not wanting to disclose the fact Ollie drove Echo to Luther’s place from time to time. In an emergency, Ollie will definitely step up.
“You’ve only been dating Todd for five months. Isn’t it a little soon?”
My mother shrugged and scratched in another answer to her puzzle.
“Todd offered, and I accepted. Why do you have a problem with it?” She looked up at me.
“It’s too soon for him to have that…” I didn’t know what word to use. “Privilege” is what sprang to mind.
“Bess, I don’t know why you have a problem with this. Work at Cosmic Hearts has doubled - thanks to Todd, by the way. And I need help with stuff involving Echo.”
“Ask me,” I pleaded.
“You’re already doing too much. I need that analytical brain of yours here at the shop. Todd may have helped in boosting business, but you’re the reason it is translating into money.” Thanks for the compliment. I think.
My mother went back to working her crossword. “It’s just picking Echo up and bringing her home. Sometimes he grabs her an ice cream. You know how much your sister loves ice cream. It allows Todd to have some bonding time with her.”
My heart sank, thinking of the bonding times with ice cream Echo had done with Luther, and now those memories would get swept away by new ones imprinted with this pretty boy impostor.
“Why do you give him so much access?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re just letting the vampire in. You’re opening the door wide open for him. You involve him with Cosmic Hearts, and you involve him with US.”
“Bess, I told you. I want him in my life. I love him.”
“But we don’t. I don’t. Don’t my feelings matter?”
“That’s because you are refusing to get to know him. You keep holding on to the idea that Luther is your father.”
That was a low blow, even for her.
“I know Luther is not my father.”
“That’s right. HE ISN’T.” She used the pencil in her hand to punctuate the point.
“Todd will never be a father to me. Don’t even think that.”
“I’m not. Don’t worry. But he could be a father for Echo.”
The burning shock I felt was like she had just thrown boiling water at my face. I drew in my breath and then screamed, “No. No. NO.”
My mother looked up from her crossword at my outburst. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. My fiery response had caught her by surprise.
“Are you out of your mind?” she asked.
“No, but you are. How can you not see…?” I threw my hands up and paced around the space of the shop. I needed air. I was suffocating. “You can’t do this! How can you not see what he is?”
“My god, Bess. Cut back on the theatrics. You’re calling Todd a vampire, and you expect me to listen?”
I stopped the pacing. My chest was heaving up and down as I tried to keep my emotions under control. I looked squarely at my mother. My absolute oblivious mother. “How can you trust him?” I asked.
Her response stabbed me in the heart. “I trust Todd with my life.”
***
I need an eight-letter word that means treachery. There’s a y second letter in.
“Betrayal”
“Thanks. That’s it.”
“No problem.”
Jehovah, I consumed nine packs of hot sauce that night and fell asleep with the tenth one in my hand.
MAYOR OF COSMIC HEARTS
Now that things were out in the open, I knew trusting my mother was not an option. It was going to be my word against Todd’s. In my mother’s mind, my complaints and my whining (I don’t whine, but she says I do) were examples of my “displaced anger.” I wanted Luther back, and Todd was in the way. Once I accepted the fact Luther was out of the picture, I would be able to accept Todd. Todd made her happy, why can’t I accept it.
But Luther made me happy. Why couldn’t she accept that? Without sounding crude, why do her sexual needs come before my emotional needs to have a complete family?
We were at a standstill. Terry wanted me to welcome Todd. I wanted to get rid of Todd. Todd was at the center of this.
After contemplating the situation for a while, I realized my mother was right about one thing regarding Todd. I would have to get to know him better. I had to know him to find a way to get rid of him.
Around the time she first started dating him, my mother had asked me to touch Todd’s tattoos. She casually requested I do my little parlor trick (her words) on him so she could use the information if needed. It was the equivalent of asking someone to run a credit check. It was one thing to read people’s stories as a means of drumming up business. I had justified the intrusion as a revenue tool.
However, I am not a touchy-feely person, and I’m not keen on knowing people’s dark secrets. I was feeling weird about doing the parlor trick, and I especially didn’t want to have to touch Todd at all. It was easy for me to shoot down the request, so I did. Touching Todd on any level creeped me out, and knowing a special thing about him, would creep me out even more. But we were at war, and it was the only advantage I had.
Todd was reinventing himself as the Mayor of Cosmic Hearts. He was good at schmoozing people, and he was great at shaking hands and squeezing shoulders. He made folks feel welcome. It was easier for me to justify going after his personal information as a business move, then a vengeful one. It’s like getting your references, Todd. It’s business, not personal.
Once I knew something he was lying about, I could use it to his disadvantage and catch Todd in a lie. I’d have to create a scenario so it would happen in front of my mother, and she would see he was fake. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
The sheep comment he had dropped in front of Echo was starting to make sense. I bet Todd saw us as sheep, and he was pulling the wool over our eyes. When he talked about getting more sheep, he was talking about getting more people to fool, and more clients. When you add that to Luther’s information that Todd was connected to Amy Honeywell in the past and had known drug associates like Nick, a larger picture was materializing.
I thought about something my mother said the other night when she claimed work at Cosmic Hearts had doubled. That wasn’t exactly true. HER work at Cosmic Hearts had doubled. Dusty was doing the same amount of business and handling a teensy bit of overflow, but the main attraction was Terry Wynters and the Ink for the Beloved ceremonies with soloist Annika Kane. I saw how the numbers were growing.
We went from being open in the evening maybe four times a month to accommodate an Ink ceremony to ten in a month, and we could quickly flip that number up to twenty. Terry Wynters was in beast mode. It was both fascinating and scary to watch.
Beloved Ceremonies were being videotaped and shown on social media. I was getting calls from people who wanted to watch a ceremony even if they didn’t know the individual being inked and spoken for. Once I got permission from the person receiving the tattoo, I created a payment scale - twenty bucks if you knew the person. Thirty-five dollars, if you didn’t. The seats were full. I gave a percentage to Annika if she was performing and a portion to the individual getting the tattoo (it felt fair), and then the money that would go to my mother went to me. I kept trying to give it to her, but she waved her hand and told me to go buy something nice for myself. I realized then, it was blood money.
The Beloved ceremonies at the tattoo studio were the only time Todd, my mother, and I shared space without Echo being around. On those nights, I knew Echo was safe with Ollie in the house, who had now reached the point where he was allowing Echo to be in his apartment upstairs. Ten years, he’s been with our
family, and Ollie has never let me up there with his “No kids” rule. But it showed how protective he was becoming of Echo and working with me to diminish the amount of time she spent with Todd. I knew I was interfering with my mother’s wishes, but something in my gut told me it was the smart thing to do.
Echo had a friend named Maisie Kelly who didn’t live far from the elementary school. I called Maisie’s parents and asked if they could take Echo home three days a week for an hour until I could get her. The other two days, I could pick up my sister myself.
I wrote out a note to Echo’s teacher from my mother saying the Kelly family would be bringing Echo home for a play date and had my mother sign it. After my mother signed it, I added the days the Kelly family would be responsible for Echo, so it was clear it was an ongoing thing, and not just one play date. Since Maisie Kelly was in Echo’s class, I didn’t have to deal with the emergency card stuff at the front office. Then, to ensure everything ran smoothly, I took $60 out of the money I was getting for booking seats at the Beloved ceremonies and put it in an envelope. Each week I would give the envelope to the Kellys thanking them for picking up Echo and saying the money was from my mother and could be used for snacks or some fun activity for the girls to do.
Worked like a charm.
With Echo taken care of, I felt I could focus on trying to figure out what Todd was up to. I couldn’t believe a guy as handsome as Todd and as connected (his words) would settle for a woman who was fifteen years older than him and with two kids. My mother had a thriving business and owned property, but there were so many other women in Berkeley and the East Bay who had much better portfolios. I’ve seen these women standing in line for pizza at the Cheeseboard or shopping at Star Grocery, so I know they exist.
Plus, Todd knew I actively hated him. So why put up with me when there are easier women (and wealthier) women to be had who would fall for his Tom Cruise grin.
There was something else going on, and I knew it centered around the backpack. Drugs were the obvious conclusion, but I didn’t have proof, and I had already burned multiple bridges with my mother.
My mother said there were three tattoos on Todd. I had seen the image of his German Shepherd, Wolfie, on his shoulder and the tribal bands that wrapped around his arms as if he were some type of Maori warrior. (HA) Those were the tattoos I could see. The third one was probably someplace I would never venture. I figured the Maori warrior bands were some type of machismo declaration. In the past, when I’ve touched tattoos belonging to men that had a masculine or frightening image, the symbols were significant to boost the guy’s ego. No judging here. I’m just speaking the truth, I see.
I hoped the warrior bands were either gang related (I can dream, can’t I?) or would give me a story showing Todd trying to prop himself up as a macho guy. I had heard the tale surrounding Wolfie and knew the ink was a memorial, so I decided to focus on the bands. They were easier to access anyway. The moment Todd walked around with arms bare, I would be able to take my shot. Even when he wore short sleeves, enough of the warrior bands were visible for me to touch.
Thankfully, the weather was getting warm enough for short sleeves. Todd was into lifting weights at the YMCA (he had joined up on my mother’s account), and he was the type of guy who would wear a smaller shirt size, so his muscles came off well-defined under his t-shirts. Saying Todd is vain is an obvious statement. It was why he liked walking around our place wearing nothing but his undies.
Once I had decided to touch Todd on one of his tattoos, the opportunity presented itself almost immediately. It was another busy night at Cosmic Hearts. It was an evening where the Ink for the Beloved ceremony was public, and I had sold fifteen extra seats in addition to the twenty chairs of friends and family. I was going to make close to $300 even after paying out Annika and the client.
The client getting the tattoo was thrilled by all the attention. Her name was Wendy, and she was getting a tattoo to commemorate a boyfriend who had died from an illness four months ago. She had spent the last year of his life taking care of him, and she was throwing out a “Aren’t I fabulous” vibe along with her martyr credentials. Her story was now she was moving on with her life and the tattoo of Greg (I think his name was Greg) was a symbol he would forever be in her heart.
To be honest, there was something ghoulish about this woman, and I got the idea she had been using the dying boyfriend story to get noticed, and now her friends were over it and over her. Having an Ink for The Beloved Ceremony was a last-ditch attempt for sympathy and attention. Wendy had paid for a full package. Not only was the ceremony being recorded, but she had requested three songs from Annika. Food was being brought in from the pizzeria down the street. Basically, Wendy was throwing a party.
The place was at capacity, and Todd was moving around the area, getting chairs set up, and being very gracious to everyone involved. This was Todd at his absolute best. He was charming and flirtatious. Ladies loved him because he smiled and touched their arms as he guided them to their chairs. I saw Duane hovering in the background with his backpack slung over one shoulder, and I made a mental note to see if he placed it on the shelves so I could make the switch. This was going to be a busy night.
Because the space was packed with people, the AC kicked in (which is rare in Berkeley). Todd had already stripped off his jacket and was moving around in his T-shirt, showing Bruce Lee at a record turnstile like a DJ. A T-shirt I completely don’t understand, and clearly, it’s me, because Todd gets tons of compliments on the shirt.
My mother was also down to her bare minimal outfit. She looked great wearing one of her spaghetti strap dresses. It was green, and her floral garden of ink erupted over her body like a wild tangled mass of color. Her hair was down, but once she started working, she would clip it up and out of the way. She was surveying the room with pride. I could see she was watching Todd with appreciation (UGH), but she was also pleased with the thought of working in front of an eager audience.
“Big crowd, isn’t it?” I said as I moved up alongside her.
“Annika really brings them in,” she observed.
“They are here for you,” I emphasized. “It’s the storytelling with the ink, that’s the draw.” She smirked at my pun, and I smiled. “The music sets the mood, but people like being a witness to the personal event. It’s like a memorial with flair.”
My mother leaned over and kissed the side of my head. “I love you so much,” she said. “You can really be fantastic when you want to be. I miss my little Mouse.”
Since I now cleared her in height by about two inches, I rolled my eyes. But I let this moment of honest connection set in and linger.
“She’s a bit of a weirdo, don’t you think?” I asked.
“Who?
“Wendy. The client.”
We both watched Wendy as she smiled and waved to her friends and the strangers at the event. She behaved like a bride, greeting her guests at the reception.
“What’s weird about her?” my mother asked.
“She just gives me the creeps for some reason.”
“How did she come in?”
I hesitated for a bit, thinking back. “No direct referral. Wendy left a message after hours about booking an appointment, talking about her dying boyfriend. He wasn’t dead yet. It took four months to fit her in.”
“Should I be concerned? Have you touched her other tattoos?”
“No,” I replied. Sometimes my mother makes it sound like I run around touching people because I love to do it. Believe me, it’s not something I enjoy doing. Depending on the tattoo, it can be painful.
“Well, see if you get an opportunity. She’s spending a lot of money here tonight, and this video is going to be used for publicity. I need to know if there’s an issue. Do that thang that you do.”
I gave her a mock scowl. She had hit “thang” way too hard. I hated it when she used slang. She always embarrassed herself. My mom smiled at me and moved back to the workstation and chair, checking and prepping
equipment that had already been checked and prepped a million times. Every now and then, she would halt and close her eyes and sway her hips a bit. I knew she was working Wendy’s story over in her head.
I watched Todd embrace Wendy, call out to a guy across the room, and then give one of Wendy’s female friends a hearty handshake. The woman wore a flowing silk jacket with red poppies. Off to the side, Duane was standing with the bag hanging loosely off his back. His hands were in his pockets, but there had been a quick movement, and I could have sworn he slipped a bag into Todd’s left hand while Todd embraced the woman with the poppy jacket. The generous material on the jacket hid the next movement, which was Todd sliding the bag into her pants pocket. I looked away so Todd wouldn’t catch me watching. So that was it.
Duane stepped away from Todd and slunk towards the back behind the cameras, apart from the crowd. I would need to see an exchange again to make sure. But the activity seemed clear. Todd was moving drugs at the tattoo studio and had a system that kept him from ever having the drugs on his person. He was the frontman, and everything else was in the shadows.
This guy had calculated a way to move more people through the studio in a manner that would not be obvious to anyone - especially my mother.
With all the lax rules and regulations my mother followed, you may have thought she was loosey-goosey when it came to drugs as well. But brain enhancements outside of alcohol (or even marijuana which is everywhere in Berkeley) were a big no to her. She was an artist that didn’t believe talent was unleashed through artificial stimulants. In fact, she felt it was the opposite - that drugs hindered the creative work.
That was why the gap-toothed, Amy Honeywell, had been bounced so quickly from our home. Luther saw the girl was doing smack and out she went. She was stealing to support the habit. If my mother hadn’t been so distracted by Echo’s illness, she would have noticed the signs with Amy herself.
This made me think. Was there anybody in Todd’s entourage that did drugs in a manner my mother would see? Outside of Nick and his marijuana, there wasn’t that I could recall. This was why drugs didn’t spring to mind when I first pondered the situation regarding Todd. The guy came across as clean cut. He didn’t use the product he was pushing.