Let Me Live

by Shirley Anne Edwards

  Dad opened his mouth like he wanted to say something in response but instead sipped his soda. He might not like the way I was acting, but if he wanted to chastise me, he would wait until we were home.

  “Sorry I’m acting like a—”

  “Dick?” Theo tapped the side of my foot again.

  “Yeah.” I was finished acting like some spoiled brat. “I think I did too much today, and the heat didn’t help.”

  Dad nodded, accepting my apology. “It was a long day for us all, but I’m proud of you, son.”

  “Proud of me? Why? Being able to leave the house isn’t something monumental.” I wished I could take back the last few minutes. I really needed more restraint when I spoke, just like I once had. How long would it take for me to be that person again?

  “Under the circumstances, you should be proud.” Theo rested his arm on the back of my chair.

  The closeness… no, intimacy vibe Theo gave off by sitting next to me and constantly touching me with his leg or arm made me feel stranger than usual. Maybe it was his gift to me for my birthday or he wanted to show our parents how supportive we were of them?

  I really didn’t have a problem with Dad and Ms. Barnet as a couple again, but it was more inconvenient because of the timing. But then maybe I was acting selfish because I couldn’t expect Dad to just rely on me forever. He needed someone else for support and for love. Ms. Barnet would give Dad that and more.

  It might get awkward like last time, since Mom and Ms. Barnet used to be friends.

  “What did you say?” Theo asked, more for my ears than the table.

  Again I spoke when I shouldn’t. I hated how my reliable filter was broken. This was becoming a problem. I shrugged it off, not sure how to answer, but Theo wouldn’t let it go. Even when our server stopped by the table and spoke to Dad about ordering dessert, Theo nudged the side of my foot.

  I could tell him to stop, but he wouldn’t until he got the answer he wanted.

  “I wondered what my mom would think of this.” I pointed to our parents.

  “Why do you care what your mother thinks?” Theo asked loud enough for the two adults across from us to hear.

  “Theo.” I gritted my teeth, wondering if I should snarl at him, something I’d never done before.

  Dad said something to our server, and then she left. She would bring us the tiramisu we always had here for my birthday dinner. “Nothing will change between me and Liana even if your mother knows.” He laid his hand on top of hers.

  “Was she the reason the last time you broke up?” Theo asked more to his mom than Dad.

  Dad linked his fingers with Ms. Barnet’s and smiled, but there wasn’t anything behind it. “My ex-wife is opinionated, but she doesn’t have an influence on how I live my life and with whom.”

  “I really don’t want to spend the last hours of my birthday talking about her.” I deliberated if I should make an excuse to go to the bathroom.

  “Okay, we’ll drop your mother from this conversation, but before I forget….” He took out a small envelope from his pocket and set it on the table. “Your birthday gift from her.”

  I lurched back, wishing there was a candle on the table so I could light the envelope on fire. Now I was pissed. Why would he carry the card around with him, plus bring it to my birthday dinner, and with his girlfriend sitting next to him? He had to know by now I refused to take any type of birthday gift from her, even though it was never a surprise of what her gift might be. It had been the same thing for every birthday since I was eleven.

  He must have realized his mistake because he cracked his knuckles. “She said she changed the donation this year.”

  “What’s going on? Is it money?” Theo asked.

  I would have told Dad to take it away, but it would remain intact and a solid reminder of how much of a disappointment I was to my mother because I was gay. I pushed my chair back, knocking Theo’s arm away. “Every year my mother gives a donation to some homophobic Christian right group to pray for my soul because she thinks I’m going to hell for being a fag.”

  I rose from my seat at the same moment dessert was brought out, and the servers sang “Happy Birthday.” I left the table without a word, away from the claustrophobia that threatened to pull me under. If I passed out in public, I would never leave my house again.

  My pulse slammed the inside of my ears, blocking out all other sounds. Black and purple spots filled my eyes, and nausea attacked my stomach. To make matters worse, when I passed the bar, Benny sat there with a man near his age wearing a dark floral dress shirt I wished I could pull off.

  I hurried outside, hoping Benny wouldn’t notice me and my current panic attack.

  I sat on a bench and rested my forehead on my knees, taking in deep breaths. Something as simple as closing my eyes and hunching over my knees helped alleviate the discomfort, but I would be left with a major case of dry mouth and dizziness that wouldn’t stop unless I lay down.

  Someone sat next to me, the scent of their musky cologne giving me a good idea of who it might be. He didn’t speak at first but sat back, based on the creaking sound of the bench.

  “At least you’re not sitting on the sidewalk this time.”

  I turned my head and opened one eye to Theo. “The bench was a better option. Higher off the ground.”

  He gently set his hand on the back of my head and played with my hair, the tips of his fingers pressing my scalp in such a comforting way I wanted to moan in appreciation.

  “Do you have a fetish with my head? You always touch it.”

  “Force of habit?” He moved his hand to my back. “I never knew you didn’t like it. You should have told me. I’ll stop.”

  I took in some deep breaths and blinked away the dark spots. “I don’t mind. But you only do it to me. Why?”

  His hand fell away. “We’re both getting too old for hair ruffling.”

  “Looks like it.” I closed my eyes to help stop the dizziness in my head. Because the night was a big fail, mainly on my part, it was best it ended. I just wanted to lie in a dark room and sleep.

  “If I ask you something personal, do you promise you won’t get upset?”

  I would have smiled if I had the energy. Theo spoke his mind, usually not asking permission. It must be serious if he was asking for mine.

  “Is it about the shooting?”

  He shifted, pressing the side of his leg on mine. “No. It’s about your mom. She really thinks you’re a lost cause because you’re gay?”

  I opened my eyes, even though they stung. But at least my stomach had settled, and the heaviness in my head had lessened. “Pretty much. She can’t stand to be around me, even on my birthday. I feel the same.”

  “Whoa. I don’t know what I would do if my mom was like yours.” He slouched farther in his seat and spread his arm on the back of the bench. “My dad ignores that part of me, which works for both of us, but then again we’re better off if we take each other in small doses.”

  “She’s been around more because of the shooting. It works in her favor since she’s become more of a contributor to one of the cable news shows. She’ll probably get offered her own show.” No one, not my dad or my friends, knew I watched Mom whenever she was a talking head on television.

  “I know what channel your mom is on.” He grimaced, revulsion clear on his face.

  “She’s pushing me to go to therapy. Dad agrees with her.”

  He tapped my shoulder and then kept his hand there. “Don’t take it the wrong way, but maybe you should go talk to someone. Your outburst at the table, nearly passing out, not counting how you acted to the car backfiring on Saturday, are signs you need help.” He squeezed my shoulder. “There’s no shame in asking for help, even if it’s from a woman who thinks you’ll burn in hell for your unhealthy lusts.”

  I laughed, even though my head hurt. “She likes to tell me she prays for my soul.”

  “That shows she cares, right? Maybe all’s not lost for you two.” He took out
his cell when it beeped. “Mom texted me. She wants to know if everything is okay.”

  “I’m better now, but I don’t think I can eat dessert. I’m ready to pass out—I mean go home and sleep.” I tried to roll my head across my shoulders, but the sides of my neck were too tight with tension. I was ready to call it a night. Hopefully when I got home, Dad wouldn’t want to have a man-to-man talk about my bad reaction at dinner.

  “Do you still want to sit out here or go inside?”

  I closed my eyes, hoping my growing headache would stop before I curled into a ball. “It’s better if I wait here. If I go inside and smell food, I might puke.”

  “Okay, I’ll go tell the ’rents the plan. Wait here.” He squeezed my shoulder one last time and then went inside the restaurant.

  If I weren’t outside in the open like this, I would have lain down. My exhaustion came on fast. I turned and sat more toward the corner of the bench to look through the window. I didn’t have a view of my table, but I did of the bar, where I spotted Benny and his friend still sitting there, drinking and talking.

  He hadn’t even noticed I was there. I spoke his name in my head, as if he would hear it and look in my direction. He never did.

  Chapter Six

  THE MAILBOX was conveniently on the corner of the same street I had ended up on last Saturday. I was here again, a week later to see if I was brave enough to get a tattoo. This time I had a letter to mail. Sending an email or talking on the phone wouldn’t work. A letter was best, and had been since March. I sent one a week and received one in return. I dropped it in the slot before I had second thoughts. It had become a habit for me, and based on the letters I received back, it was the same for the person I wrote to.

  As soon as the letter disappeared, I pushed it from my mind. A little bit of guilt and some worry remained, but I shrugged it off. It was my dirty little secret that might eventually get out, but I would deal with the consequences if it did. At the moment I was more concerned if I should get a tattoo, and if I did, would it be hidden on my body by clothes or in the open for anyone to see.

  I had studied the front of Benny’s shop many times, but now for some reason instead of seeing just two large windows and the too-bright red neon sign, it gave off a welcoming vibe. It wanted me to come inside. Maybe the change was because its owner had invited me in?

  I scanned the area, expecting someone I knew to appear, much like Theo had. But other than a few people on the opposite side of the street, it was empty. No one would stop me or convince me not to go inside. I was on my own.

  I opened the door and entered, an electronic ding announcing my arrival. The front room was bigger than I expected, very airy and open with pictures of tattoos on the wall and a few chairs and couches near them. There was a rectangular aquarium near the front desk.

  Music and some type of buzzing came from behind a burgundy curtain, which I assumed was where people were given their tattoos. I walked to the front desk, ready to call out a hello, when I noticed a pudgy black cat sitting in the middle of the counter.

  “A cat in a tattoo parlor?” I stared at the cat, waiting for it to open its eyes and acknowledge me.

  “That’s Canvas. She’s a Bombay and Astral’s mascot.” A girl near my age with pink highlights and a tattoo of the moon with stars surrounding it on her right bicep appeared out of nowhere.

  “Um… hi, I didn’t see you when I came in.” I started to fold my hands behind my back, but deciding it would make me look too stiff and weird, I left them at my sides. At least I’d dressed down for my trip here. I wore a pair of gym shorts and one of my old high school swimming T-shirts.

  “I was in the supply closet when I heard the bell.” She raised her hand in hello. “I’m Addison, one of the owners.”

  She smiled, the silver stud in the side of her nose catching my eye. She came up to my shoulders, and had a body that was thick—a term I’d heard used by some guys back at school. She wasn’t model thin, which wasn’t a fault because she wore her weight well. If I were straight, I would have been attracted to her.

  “You’re Benny’s cousin? I’m Marshall. Here for a tattoo.” I smiled instead of wincing at my sad conversation skills. “I mean, of course I’m here for a tattoo, not just to see Benny.”

  Two dimples appeared on her cheeks, and she bit her bottom lip to either show she was amused or flirting. She moved behind the counter and ran her hands along the cat’s back, which didn’t even move. “He’s popular, even with the kids.”

  Was she calling me a kid? I bristled but chose my words carefully. “I’m nineteen and legal in this state to get a tattoo.”

  She did her lip-biting thing again. “You’re the type who abides by the rules, so I know you have a legit reason to be here. Why don’t you take a load off and fill out this form?” She slid it over with a pen. “He’s finishing up with a client.”

  Not even wearing a faded T-shirt and crappy shorts fooled her. I never had this problem in high school, pretending to be someone I wasn’t, even if it meant wearing certain types of clothes to fit in. I guess I wasn’t the type of customer who usually came in here. I wasn’t here to impress her. Benny, on the other hand, was another story. But my main goal was getting a tattoo whether he was the one to give it to me or not.

  I nodded at her, not interested in the verbal ping-pong. I sat near the aquarium and filled out the form with my info. The phone rang and Addison answered. My attention turned to the fish, especially the guppies swimming in circles, leaving bubbles in their wake.

  The music behind the curtain stopped, leaving Addison to fill in the silence while she talked on the phone. After a few seconds the sounds of male voices floated up front and then one shouted a “hells yeah.”

  The curtain opened, and a guy in jeans, a white ribbed tank, and an impressive beard that nearly touched his chest came out with Benny behind him. The customer flexed his arm where, under a clear bandage, was inked a black dragon with a red tongue hanging out of its mouth. “You’re the best goddamn tattooist in the state.”

  “Try the East Coast,” Addison inserted and then spoke again to whomever she talked to on the phone.

  Being partially hidden because of the aquarium, I watched unnoticed. I blatantly checked out Benny, who wore jeans and a plain white T-shirt. Nothing fancy from him, which made me appreciate his look even more. The color of his tee for some reason set off the copper in his hair and beard.

  “I may have one or two awards for my mad injection skills.” He locked his fingers around the guy’s wrist for a handshake.

  For some reason my wrist tingled, as if he’d grabbed mine. I rubbed it, wondering what it would feel like to be embraced by him.

  The friendly aggressive customer kept Benny’s hand in his grip, not that Benny seemed to mind as he set his hand on the guy’s shoulder. “When you’re ready for me to do the other arm, just call me.”

  “I wish I could have the other arm done for tomorrow night’s party, but I need to save up the funds first.” He moved his newly tattooed arm from side to side, an awestruck expression stuck on his face.

  “I’ll give you a discount since you sent me three referrals. Their tats helped pay off our mortgage this month.” Benny high-fived Addison, who had finally ended her call.

  “Expect more, especially after tomorrow night. I’ll see you then, bro.” The dragon-tattooed guy clapped Benny on the back and, with a two-finger salute to Addison, left.

  She petted the yawning Canvas. “Your next appointment is here.”

  “Appointment? I don’t have one. I’m—” He turned in my direction and stopped midspeech. Within seconds recognition came into his gaze and he smiled. “My man Marshall.”

  He probably called other guys the same, but hearing him say it to me gave me the confidence to rise and hold out my hand for him to shake. “You did say stop in anytime.”

  “That I did.” He grasped my hand, giving it a slight pump. He didn’t release it, and I didn’t either. He nodded and squeezed.
“Good to see you.”

  “You too.” I squeezed him back, realizing this was one of the longest handshakes I’d experienced. But I didn’t really mind.

  Addison coughed, whether on purpose or not, I couldn’t say, and Benny let me go. He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, giving me a clear view of his arm tattoos, especially the blackbird near his right wrist.

  “Did Addison give you a warm welcome and offer you water or something else to drink?” He didn’t give his cousin a glance.

  She tugged on his hair. He blinked in reaction. “I would take that as a no.”

  “I’m fine.” I held up my hands, as if that was enough proof to show I wasn’t thirsty.

  One of his eyebrows arched, as if he was questioning me. Or maybe I was just paranoid because I was locked in to his every movement. There was just something about him I couldn’t stop staring at.

  “Let’s go to my office.” He went to the curtain and pulled it back.

  “Your next appointment is at two.” Addison typed on the computer in front of her.

  “Enough time for us to talk, and then lunch.” He motioned for me to go first.

  She snapped her finger and turned around. “Before I forget, your mother called about Grandma Ruby’s birthday. Call her back.”

  “Yeah, okay.” He didn’t sound too sure, but he didn’t give anything away on his face. He waved me to me again, and this time I obeyed.

  The room wasn’t as large as the front, but still had enough space. There were three sections cordoned off with black stools and instruments I assumed were used for tattooing, including curtains for privacy. Near the far-left wall was a cubical with a desk and chairs.

  “Take a seat in my office.” I followed him inside the cubical, expecting him to sit behind the desk. He sat in the chair next to me.

  “I expected you to have a bigger office.” The space was the exact opposite of the front and even the area where people would get tattooed. It was very bland.

  “I’m not in here too often. Just when I’m doing paperwork like invoices or billing.” He relaxed in his chair with his legs spread out and his hands folded on his stomach.