“All right, I think that’s good. Now, I’m gonna apply some color: black.” Zoey began running her hands through Ian’s hair, which to Ian felt wonderful.
“Actually, I really hate to change your hair color. The smattering of salt mixed with brown looks really good on you.” she said, still running her fingers through Ian’s hair.
Ian blushed ever so slightly from the compliment.
Zoey continued, “Anyway, I just so happen to have some of that five-minute men’s coloring in the back in a few of the basic colors. Occasionally, we get a man in that wants to color his gray away but is too embarrassed to buy the stuff for himself.” She began to laugh before she spoke again, “God knows how they ever get the courage to buy condoms.” Zoey stopped laughing, then continued, “The color doesn’t last near as long as what I’d typically use for women, but for a short time, a couple of weeks, it does the trick. I’ll be right back.”
When Zoey returned, she had a box of hair product in her hand, which she set down on the counter of the station. She noticed that Ian was rubbing his neck and slowly twisting it from side to side.
“What’s wrong, Ian? Stiff neck?” Zoey asked as she opened the small box that contained the hair coloring.
“Yeah, it comes and goes in intensity. It’s been bugging me for a couple-few days now,” Ian replied, still rubbing and stretching his neck.
Zoey looked up from the bottle and application paraphernalia that she’d just removed from the box. “I’ll see what I can do for that after we’ve got you finished here. Among my many talents, lucky you, I’m also a masseuse.”
“Really.” Ian said, sounding impressed.
Zoey continued, “Yeah, I’ve got a little massage table in the back. It’s actually starting to become an important part of my business as an additional revenue stream, as Clayton puts it. My uncle paid for my schooling. You know, beauty school over in Astoria. Later, he even paid for me to go to school in Portland to also become a massage therapist. God, I mean, he even bought this building and fronted the money for me and my partner, Todd, to open this place and live upstairs. There’s a two-bedroom apartment up above. I’ve been paying him back. I pay my uncle rent and all. So far, it’s been good. The truth is, Clayton’s done … He’s always been there for me. My parents were both killed in a fire when I was just a baby. Clayton sort of adopted me and moved me here from San Francisco after they died. My dad and Clayton were brothers. Yep, that’s my story.”
Zoey put on the disposable plastic gloves that came with the box of hair color. She then began shampooing the coloring into Ian’s hair. Ian somehow felt compelled to share a bit of his past with Zoey since she’d shared so much with him.
“I’m a widower. My wife and daughter were killed in a car accident a couple years ago. They were hit head on by a drunk driver.”
Zoey instantly stopped working on Ian’s hair. She took one step back to better look straight into his eyes. “Oh, God! I’m so sorry! I mean, in my case, I never really knew my parents, but you …”
Ian lifted his right hand from underneath the large, bib-style cape. “No. No, I mean thanks, but it’s quite all right. I’m doing much better with dealing with it all. I have my work, and that keeps me busy. And I have my dog, Scout. He keeps me company and …”
“You have a dog? Really? What kind?” Zoey asked.
“I’ve got a large German Shepherd. You might say he’s my best friend.”
Zoey started spreading the color evenly all over Ian’s head as she interjected, “You know, I think I could really dig having a dog. That is, if I could get over the fear of being bitten. Clayton tells me I’m afraid of dogs ‘cause I was attacked – bitten – by one when I was very young. I can’t quite remember the incident, but whenever I see a large dog, just knowing it’s got those huge fangs, sort of … I don’t know … freaks me out. Stupid, right?”
Ian thought to himself, Strike one.
Zoey continued, “But I think all I would have to do is get used to being around the right dog, you know, and I’d be fine. ‘Cause I really do love animals.”
He mused, It’s a hit.
Ian paused for a second then spoke. “I think you’d get along great with Scout. He’s as gentle as a big ole teddy bear. That is, unless someone was to attack me or something. If that was the case, I’ve no doubt he’d shape-shift quick from teddy bear to grizzly bear. He was trained as a police dog.” Ian thought about what he’d just said. Shape-shift. That was a weird way to put it. All the talk earlier with Clayton about vampires has me thinking with monsters on my brain.
Zoey spoke up, “Well, it’s settled then. Bring him. Bring Scout with us when we go shopping for some club clothes for you tomorrow. It’s time I get over such a silly phobia. That a deal?”
Ian smiled as he replied, “Deal.”
After glancing at the clock on the wall, Zoey said, “Okay, it’s been more than five minutes. Let’s rinse this out of your hair and see what we’ve got.” She took Ian’s hand and led him over to a chair at a hair-wash station. Ian sat down in the chair, and Zoey tilted the chair back and gently lowered his head back into the sink. Ian winced just a bit due to his stiff neck. Zoey then began rinsing the residual product out of his hair.
“Boy, that neck of yours is really tight, huh?” Zoey said with a sympathetic tone in her voice.
Ian replied, “Yeah, it’s getting worse I think. Maybe you’ve got some Tylenol or Ibuprofen. Or better, a straight shot of tequila?”
Zoey laughed. “Like I said before, once I’ve finished with your head, I’ll work on that neck.” After she finished rinsing Ian’s hair, she reached up and opened the wall-mounted cabinet above the sink, pulled out a plush white towel, and began drying his head.
Zoey looked Ian’s hair over carefully. “Now, Ian, don’t over comb your hair. In fact, don’t comb it at all. Just run your hands through it after showering. The way I’ve cut it, well, it’s supposed to look sort of messy.”
Ian was beginning to grow slightly concerned regarding how much all of this after-hours special service was going to wind up costing him.
“Okay, now get your butt up from that chair and follow me back to the massage room,” Zoey said with a commanding voice that would accept no arguments.
Ian got up from the chair and they both headed for the back room. Ian noticed that Zoey had gotten some dark hair-dye on her clothes.
“Zoey … Oh, Christ, I’m sorry. I see some of the hair dye on the left sleeve of your …” Ian exclaimed while pointing to the area of concern.
Zoey examined the sleeve. “Damn it.” she blurted out. “Oh, well. What the hell. This thing’s old anyway. I should have known better and changed out of it.” She continued staring at the dark, Rorschach-test looking spot. “Well, I should at least try dousing it real good with Spray-n-Wash and throw it in the washer before the stain totally sets in.”
Ian nodded his head in agreement as he spoke. “Zoey, I’m really sorry.”
Zoey replied, “No biggy. Totally my fault!” She took a deep breath, then spoke. “Ian, go ahead back to the massage room. It’s the room behind the first set of hanging beads. If you pass through a second set, you’ve gone too far. That’s our little laundry and kitchen. Anyway, the light switch is just to the left. Go ahead and get undressed. You can cover yourself with a sheet.” Zoey looked at Ian and giggled, “That is, if you’re shy. You’ll see a stack of folded sheets in an open-face wall cabinet just off to the right of the massage table. When you’re ready, lay face down on the table. You’ll see where your face goes: in the hole.” Ian’s mind boggled at the possibilities of Zoey’s last words.
He was speechless, but went ahead and followed her instructions, or rather, orders. He mused, Get more undressed than I am already? Okay, I guess.
Zoey headed towards the back of the shop ahead of him. Just to the far left side of the room, about ten feet before the center beaded doorway, was a door that she opened, revealing a staircase. Zoey turned her head bac
k towards Ian as she began heading upstairs.
“I’ll be quick. I’m gonna just get out of these clothes so I can get it washing right away.” Ian smiled as he continued on past her, heading towards the beaded doorway.
Everything in the massage room was as Zoey had described. Ian found the light switch and switched it on. He started to get undressed, then remembered that his shoes were still near the front of the shop where he’d initially gotten out of his wet clothes. Ian walked briskly back to where he’d left them, grabbed them up, and carried them back to the massage room. He then proceeded to get further undressed. Ian laid his boxer shorts, t-shirt, and socks on the floor on top of his shoes underneath the massage table. The room was neatly decorated with wicker furniture, chair, and an open-face shelved wicker cabinet that was filled with, besides white towels, an impressive assortment of oils, lotions, and potions. Suspended from the ceiling, directly above the massage table, was a banana leaf-styled ceiling fan.
The wall across from the initial beaded entryway was wallpapered in a picturesque tropic surf and sea motif similar to one Ian had once seen on the wall of a travel agency.
Sitting on top of a two-shelved, nightstand-type wicker desk adjacent to the room’s only chair was an ornate brass Buddha incense burner and a box of incense sticks. On the second shelf below that was a small boom-box stereo. Ian chuckled as he thought, Probably gonna have me listening to the sounds of whales copulating.
Ian climbed onto the table and lay face down. He managed with a little difficulty from the awkward position he was in to adequately cover himself with a white sheet. Ian placed his face down into the padded facial hole.
Ian began feeling overwhelmingly silly, but just when he considered getting up from the table, Zoey parted the beads. “Let me just get my clothes started in the wash, and I’ll be right with you.”
Moments later, Ian heard the washing machine start up. Next he heard the gentle sound of the beads being disturbed yet again. He lifted his head and turned it sideways to see Zoey, who was now standing above him. She had already squeezed out some lotion into her hand from a bottle that she then sat down onto the table beside the incense burner.
Zoey was wearing only a loose-fitting men’s white knit tank top, which revealed her totally tattooed left arm, all done in Asian-pictorials. Ian had never been much into tattoos, especially on women. But he noticed instantly how beautifully the body art had been done by what had to have been a master tattoo artist. All the ink on her arm, its colors and designs, reminded Ian of a movie he’d once seen that featured members of the Japanese mafia, the Yakuza.
Ian noticed almost immediately that the arm holes in the shirt Zoey wore were much larger than any woman of her small stature would require for proper fit. They vividly revealed with nearly each movement of her arms the sides of her firm breasts. Zoey was additionally wearing pink sweatpants that Ian thought revealed a perfect, athletic-like, firm hind end. Printed across the back of the pants in bold white letters was the word PINK. Her bare feet revealed that her painted toenails exactly matched her black fingernails.
Zoey’s nose had a small, round, silver stud affixed to it. Ian guessed her ears had at least a half-dozen small silver loops on each, and he could see through her thin shirt that she had a small pin through her navel. Whenever Zoey turned her back to Ian and bent over slightly, Ian could see that the small of her back sported a tattoo comprised of a black and white Yin and Yang symbol that was semi-encircled by two symbolically contrasting black and white arrows. Ian would normally regard Zoey’s body piercings and body art as superfluous at best, but somehow, they all seemed natural on her.
Zoey began massaging Ian’s neck. At first, it was as painful to Ian as relieving, but after a few minutes, his neck began to loosen up just a bit.
“Stress has really done a number on you.” Zoey said while working.
“Yeah, I guess. Well, in my profession, I have to keep a lot of things bottled up,” Ian said while thinking to himself, The secrets I keep. God, if she only knew.
“Well, Ian, like a good bartender, you can tell your masseuse in confidence all your dirty little secrets.” Zoey then giggled, “but don’t say a word to your hair-dresser. They’re gossipy as hell.” They both laughed.
Ian thought to himself for a second of what Zoey had just said. He immediately related it to the Yin and Yang tattoo on the small of her back. To Ian, metaphorically, that was Zoey. Somewhat an enigma of polarized contradiction. Ian mused as her hands continued working their occasionally painful magic, A little hard on the outside but very soft on the inside.
Ian exclaimed, “Wow! You’re really good. If I live through this, I think it’s really gonna have helped.”
Zoey laughed as she replied, “Yeah, well you know what they say. No pain, no gain.”
After about fifteen minutes of working on Ian’s neck and back, Zoey issued another order. “All right, time for the flip side. Turn over.”
Ian suddenly became embarrassed. He’d become aroused by Zoey’s looks and healing hands.
“Oh … um … Ya know, I don’t think that will be necessary. I mean, my neck’s feeling much better and …”
Zoey interrupted, “Turn your ass over so I can get to the sides of your neck and front of your shoulders. It’s all connected. It’s all part of the same series of muscles that are spasming.”
By her tone and insistence, Ian knew, to his chagrin, that Zoey would accept no further arguments to the contrary. So he very slowly turned over, all the while trying desperately to mentally deflate his present condition by thinking of anything he could that was sexually repulsive. It didn’t work.
Oh … God. Ian thought as he laid there with his knees both bent, a feeble attempt at trying to conceal his arousal.
Zoey had witnessed this maneuver by men in Ian’s condition more than once, but she intentionally concealed her knowledge with a poker face that could have rivaled even the most prolific gambler. She decided to play with him. “Ian, you’re simply gonna have to lay your legs down. They’ve got to be positioned perfectly straight in order for me to do a good job of rubbing all that stiffness out … from your neck.” Zoey had to turn her head away from Ian for a second, so he wouldn’t catch her giggling. Realizing that the situation was unavoidable, Ian began slowly lowering his legs.
Zoey spoke, “Now, there’s a good boy. I’m going to rub long and hard. Up and down … on your neck and shoulders. Gotta get all that tension released.” Once again, she had to turn her head away to regain her composure.
Ian could no longer stand not knowing how apparent his condition was. Reluctantly, he looked down towards his lower self. “Oh, Jesus. I’m sorry!” he blurted out.
Zoey laughed. “Relax, Ian. It’s only natural.” She began rubbing the sides of Ian’s neck. “Your neck … There’s a knot right here.” She began concentrating her efforts on the left side of Ian’s neck and shoulder. She continued, “The muscle right along here is really in spasm. By comparison to the other side of your neck, it actually feels a little swollen. Are you sure you haven’t injured it recently?”
Ian thought about the wrestling around he’d done back at Harmony Falls. “Yeah, come to think of it, I did take a bit of a nasty fall up in the woods the other day.”
Zoey shook her head, indicating that she thought it was more than just tension. “Try to relax as much as possible. This might hurt more than just a little while I try and work the knot out.”
Zoey bore down on what she felt was the epicenter of the problem and Ian winced from the pain. She then walked to the head of her table. When Ian looked up at her, Zoey looked directly into his eyes with a sly grin on her face. She said, “You know, if you’d like, when I’ve finished working on your neck and shoulders, I could help reduce the swelling in your other problem as well.” Ian was speechless as he gazed up into her deep, jade green eyes.
One hour later:
Ian stood next to Zoey at the opened front door of her shop. The rain had stopp
ed a while ago as abruptly as it had begun. Ian, not knowing exactly what to say, cleared his throat then began to speak. “Well, um … my … uh … neck …” His speech was interrupted as they both couldn’t help but laugh.
Ian continued, “Uh, yeah. Well anyway, my neck … ha! Yeah, it feels much better. And, um, thanks for drying my clothes.”
Zoey giggled slightly, “My pleasure, Ian. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Then she got serious. “Now, a couple of things. Are you going to tell me your real name? I could tell by the way my uncle introduced you, by the tone of his voice, that your name … he like invented it. Like a name from a character in one of his books. Or am I wrong?” Before Ian could say a word, Zoey continued, “That and … how about tomorrow? What time do you want to pick me up? We’re gonna have to go to Astoria. There’s nothing like what you’re going to need here in town.”
Ian was both startled and impressed by Zoey’s calm, casual demeanor when asking him about his name. She certainly is perceptive. After an uncomfortable pause, he answered, “Yes. Yes, of course. Going to Astoria works. It would be great. I’ve got an appointment over there at around ten, so say around nine? Would that work?” Zoey nodded. But then she lifted her eyebrows and crossed her arms, clearly indicating that she was still waiting for her initial question to be answered.
Ian continued, “As far as my name. Okay. My name really is Ian. Clayton came up with the last name McBride. My real last name’s McDermott.”
Zoey smiled. “Well, Ian McDermott, if that is your name? Nice to meet the real you.” she laughed.
Ian smiled. “No really. I swear! I’ll show you my driver’s license if you don’t believe …”
Zoey held up her right hand with her palm facing Ian. She laughed as she spoke, “Stop. I believe you.”
Ian continued, “Okay. Now that that’s out of the way, great. Until tomorrow then. You have a good night. Uh … bye.” Almost instinctually, Ian leaned forward to kiss her, but he caught himself before it was too obvious. He didn’t want to be presumptuous, so he opted to just turn and walk out into the night across the street to his Jeep.
Red Tide: The Flavel House Horror / Vampires of the Morgue (The Ian McDermott, Ph.D., Paranormal Investigator Series Book 2) Page 13