Tattoos: A Novel

by Denise Mathew

  Jax, unaware of my internal conflict continued talking.

  “Not long after the whole baby selling fiasco, Social Services somehow managed to find my grandparents and contacted them about me. It seems my mother had got into drugs heavy in high school and ran away and became a groupie for some hair band.”

  I gasped, because his story was so far out there, it was like something from a movie.

  “So your grandparents raised you from the time you were a baby?”

  Jax nodded. He sat up then leaned forward, positioning his arms on his thighs in a way that hid his track marks from view. His eyes found my face again as if gauging my reaction. I smiled at him, trying my best to let him see that none of his past mattered. To basically hide the fact that I’d seen more than I wanted to and was questioning everything about him.

  “My Granddad Pat died when I was really young, I don’t really remember him much, only that he used to have this stash of wafer bars that he’d give me when Gran wasn’t looking.”

  Jax smiled and it was so natural and relaxed that it left me entranced. My reservations weren’t forgotten, but at least they were pushed to the side for a little while. There would always be time later, too much in my opinion, to analyze my feelings for Jax.

  “I think I better roll. I have to grab some z’s before my gig tonight,” Jax said, standing up. He slipped his leather coat on, managing to look positively divine and exactly what you’d expect if you looked up tall, dark and handsome on the internet.

  He turned to leave then without warning rotated back toward me. He took my hand in his, holding it as if it was made of eggshells. His simple act made my heart skitter all over again. He didn’t speak at first, studying me as the silence lengthened between us. I felt trapped in his gaze as if our whole beings were tethered together by an unseen cord of understanding.

  “I’ll help you any way I can. I mean in the whole helping people project thing you mentioned before,” he said. His smile was uncertain as if he was worried that I might not want his help anymore. For a few beats of my heart I saw a glimmer of vulnerability in his stare. It was something that I didn’t think existed in Jax’s world and it only made me want to kiss him even more.

  As if reading my mind he leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. His kiss was feather light. Not anything like I’d expected from someone as streetwise as he was. Even as the thought passed through my mind I chastised myself for pigeonholing Jax, based on his upbringing and the clothes he wore.

  The kiss was over long before I wanted it to be. As soon as he broke the connection I wanted to grab him back and feel the warmth of his mouth on mine. Be bathed in the scent that was distinctly him.

  “O we grew together, like to a double cherry, seeming parted;

  But yet a union in partition, two lovely berries moulded on one stem.” He said. Once again Jax managed to throw me off my high horse and make me see that nothing was ever exactly as it seemed.

  “You know quotes from a Midsummers Night Dream,” I said, bowled over. Because that one verse from Shakespeare had managed to sum up all my fears. He’d somehow honed in to my feelings, seen that I imagined our lives were worlds apart but the truth was it was all an illusion. We were different, but also the same in so many ways. Separated by the proverbial tracks of wealth and poverty we spoke one language, being human, trying to get through whatever life threw at us.

  I sighed and shook my head.

  “You never cease to surprise me,” I said. Sudden and overwhelming guilt coursed through me. I was more like my snob mother than even I’d known.

  Though I felt horrible, Jax seemed nonplused by my stupid comment.

  “See you later,” he said. He shot me a sweet smile then moved away. Before he left he paused at the doorway and turned back.

  “Do you still have my cell number?” he said. A slight crease formed across his brow. It only made him more endearing. I hated myself for judging him. I didn’t deserve Jax’s kindness, not when all I could do was have preconceived notions about who he was. I knew one thing though, there was something good about him, something that few people had. I was more than lucky to have him in my life, no matter what that meant.

  I nodded. “Thanks again for everything,” I said. I felt a delayed flush of heat travel up my neck then to my face.

  “Text me or call anytime you want. It doesn’t matter what time it is, if you need anything or just someone to talk to…”

  His voice trailed off but his focus remained on me. I stared into Jax’s eyes that seemed so blue, that it made me think that the gods had scooped up a drop of the ocean the day they’d made them. Locked in his stare I felt like everything, including Jax’s past, didn’t matter. I had no idea how much more time I had to live, so it was senseless to dwell in a place that wasn’t now.

  In Jax’s stare I couldn’t help but think about warm days spent on the beach, sand between my toes and carefree abandon. The desire to spend as much time with him as I could, locked hope in my heart. Being with him seemed to give me the optimism I needed to believe that no matter what this disease called cancer threw at me I’d get through it.

  Then he was gone and as always seemed the case, all the light was sucked away with his exit, replaced by a dark void. Then I was alone and the only thought in my mind was when I’d see him again.

  10. Jax

  I couldn’t explain why or even how my feelings for Marilee had gone from someone I looked forward to seeing during my shifts, to a girl who I couldn’t shake from my thoughts. The fact that I’d invited her to Christmas dinner was probably one of the stupidest things I could have done. In the time I had worked at the hospital I had always lived by the motto that said I needed to keep a healthy emotional distance from the patients. It made it easier to cope when bad things happened on the ward. But somehow with Marilee, all that had changed.

  No patient before her, had managed to get so far under my skin. It was to the point that I almost couldn’t fully function if I didn’t see her. I knew it was lame ass and that if I didn’t get my shit together soon and break the connection, bad things would happen, because that’s how it always went. You started to care about someone and they checked out, or worse, died.

  My feelings didn’t make sense even to me. It wasn’t like Marilee was even my type. We didn’t exactly hang in the same crowds. If I was being honest, she was a bit out of my league. But with those facts aside I couldn’t let her go, no matter how many times I’d tried to talk myself into doing just that. We had a connection that was stripped down and real, that transcended where you lived, and all the other crap that determined who we associated with.

  I hopped off the bus at my regular stop and strode to the hospital. I was more than stoked to see Marilee and start what she’d pegged her Peace Project. As far as she’d told me, she would come up with the funds and all I needed to do was provide the names who could use a helping hand. Living on the Strip made my job more than a little easy. There were so many people who needed a break in life, a little coin to get them through. The question wasn’t who needed help, it was who needed it the most.

  I was almost one hundred percent sure that working with her on this project was just going to complicate things between us even more. But I couldn’t let my need for self preservation squash an opportunity for all the people who could be potentially helped with Marilee’s money. I had to suck it up, do what I could to maintain my distance and help as many people as possible, nothing more. And if I stuck to my guns and did what I was supposed to do, everything would be fine. I almost laughed, knowing that I was so full of crap that I probably reeked. The truth was that even if there wasn’t a Peace Project I was in, deep.

  I’d already made a list of twenty or so people who I thought should be the benefactors of Marilee’s goodwill and had prioritized the list. The people on the top were those that I thought needed help the most and also the quickest. I still wasn’t sure how the logistics were going to work out. I had planned on hammering out the deta
ils with Marilee before I went too far. Too many times I’d witnessed people suffering and as much as I tried to help them in my actions, money was an added dimension that would make things better. Marilee was about to change all that.

  Light snow dusted the sidewalk in the mid-November morning, and the sky loomed a slate grey that promised more of the same. I shivered, regretting that I hadn’t listened to Gran and worn my heavier jacket. Denying that winter was really coming, by wearing a lighter jacket wouldn’t prevent its arrival. My stubbornness would only serve to help me freeze my ass off.

  I pushed through the front door of the hospital. I fingered the note in my pocket, ensuring that it was still there. Inside, the hospital was seasonally festive with yards of green garland wrapped around pillars and draped on walls. Puffy red bows, silver and gold balls and glittering crystal Swarovski snowflakes adorned a fifteen foot artificial Christmas tree. The tree was smack in the center of the foyer. Santa’s chair, was surrounded by two bins ready to be filled with donated presents. The decorations did exactly what was intended, provided an awe inspiring scene for anyone who entered the place.

  Though the rest of the hospital was decorated in varying degrees, it was nothing compared to the entrance. As I’d noticed for any special occasion, as soon as the decorations went up so did the energy in the place. I’d made sure that I’d arrived a few minutes early for my shift so I could run my plan by Marilee. I didn’t bother to change before I went to see her. The halls were quiet since the nurses who’d worked the nightshift had just finished up their shift and were giving their reports to the day staff.

  Marilee’s door was closed but her curtain was open. I glanced in at the small lump in the bed that was her. Curled up in her pink and lavender quilt with just her head poking above, she seemed tinier than before. Her extreme weight loss worried me. She needed every pound she had, to give her the energy to get well. Although she was slowly improving since her chemotherapy cycle had finished, it was too little in my opinion.

  She never complained, but I knew she was exhausted more often than not and her appetite was non-existent. I wished I could have snapped my fingers and made it all go away. Unfortunately that wasn’t how it worked, there was no magical solution or medicine that would make her better. There was only time and the hope that the drugs that they’d given her would work, because if they didn’t…

  As if she knew I was there, Marilee turned over in the bed just as I stepped across the threshold of her room. Her eyes cracked open. A smile lit her porcelain face and served to make me forget about all my worries, for a few minutes at least. I closed the door behind me, careful not to make too much sound.

  “Hey Jax,” she said giving me another brilliant grin. For a fraction of a second I saw the Marilee that had come in the first day. I remembered her long blonde hair, pink lips and cheeks, and the way her eyes said she was trying her best to be brave despite the hand she’d been dealt.

  I tugged the curtain closed. In three long strides I made my way to the bed. She reached her arms out to me as if we’d been together for years, not days. My internal battle to keep things professional lasted all of a microsecond. I wrapped her in my embrace. When I did, I felt every one of her ribs jutting like twigs from her back. It was just one more unwelcome reminder of the very thing that threatened to unhinge my calm because it was proof that her body was being ravaged. Despite that, I needed to be strong for her. Hell, her parents were assholes, her friends flakes. She deserved someone to lean on. I wanted that someone to be me.

  Once again my body worked against my good senses. My lips found hers. What began as a soft kiss rapidly turned into an intense need to be even closer than our bodies would allow. I didn’t just want to kiss her, on some level I needed her kiss more than I needed air. In my mind, the feel of her hands buried in my hair and her warm lips against mine made me feel like everything would be okay. Marilee and I would someday have a happy ending. As lame as it might have sounded I wanted to believe that if I could show her how much she mattered, I could somehow heal her broken body and make her cancer free.

  My fingers grazed the smooth skin of her cheek. I fought to pull back, my mind screamed to get out while I still could. Even I knew, that it was a losing battle. The time to get out had already passed. Our mouths worked as if they were two pieces to a puzzle, melding into one. I drew in a deep breath. It was then that I smelled it, the mild scent of the drugs that they’d pumped into her system.

  I didn’t want to admit that the smell bothered me, but it did. Not because it was unpleasant, but because it was one more reminder that Marilee wasn’t out of the woods yet, not by a long shot. Until she was given a clean bill of health and numbers that said she was in remission, anything could happen.

  I was first to break the kiss. I stared at Marilee. Her eyes were still closed, her lips moist and full. She even had a touch of color in her cheeks. In that moment she reminded me of an angel carved from the finest stone, flawless. I shook my head, remembering that I still had to go to work.

  As if the trance was broken Marilee blinked her eyes open. It only served to make her seem more ethereal. Knowing that my resolve to not kiss her again was wavering, I slid down to the end of the bed, effectively putting some distance between us. Marilee rapidly went from dreamy to suspicious. Her confused response made me want to apologize for acting like a dick, kissing her then pulling away like she suddenly had the plague. I tried for a casual smile but even I knew that it was artificial. I couldn’t hide that I was fighting an internal battle with my emotions. I had no idea if love or friendship would come out on top, but I was quite sure love was in the lead.

  “Is everything okay?” Marilee asked. She had said the exact thing I didn’t want her to, seeming to hone in on my uncertainty. Once again a mantra that said I was getting in way over my head, flooded my brain. I was more than aware that the smartest thing I could do, was to maintain a distance, be friendly, but not friends, be kind but not care, like someone, but never love. With Neil’s death still fresh in my mind I knew the last thing I should have done was to my feelings for Marilee develop.

  I shook my head. “No, it’s all good, I just have to get to work soon. I don’t want someone to catch us, it’s not exactly hospital protocol for the cleaners to be making out with the patients.”

  She eyed me for a few more seconds. Then much to my relief she dropped it. “So, did you make a list?” she said.

  I nodded. “It wasn’t hard. A heap of people need help in my part of town. Like I told you before it’s not who needs the help, it’s who needs it the most.” I pulled out the folded sheet of paper that held the names that I’d chosen.

  “Mrs. Mori,” I said, relieved for the diversion.

  I glanced down at the name I’d written in black ink. The name alone conjured up an image of the tiny silver-haired elderly woman who’d lived on the streets.

  Mrs. Mori never begged for money and instead sold the most intricate paper and plastic packing twine origami birds, fish and flowers. I’d bought a few pieces for Gran in the past. Every time I studied the pieces I was amazed at how nimble Mrs. Mori’s fingers were. It was difficult to fathom how she so effortlessly formed her beautiful creations from scraps that she found in her environment.

  From what I’d heard on the Strip, Mrs. Mori had once had a real house. But apparently when her husband had died her only son had sold the place out from under her. Now she lived in an abandoned underground subway station, with others who squatted there.

  Marilee leaned back against the three pillows that were propped behind her. I could see in her weary expression, that she was doing her best to hide that she was already exhausted well before her day had begun.

  “So how can we help her?” Marilee said. When she’d said we, warmth coursed through me. That one word served to confirm that what we were about to do was going to connect us even more than before. We had the ability to change people’s lives. It might have been only a little change and on a temporary basis, bu
t for a while at least someone might be happier because of what Marilee and I did.

  A rush of gratitude washed over me that she had included me in her plans. I tugged a tiny origami swallow from my pocket. I pulled the soft pink paper wings out, positioning it on my outstretched palm.

  “For you,” I said. I pushed my hand toward Marilee. She plucked the bird gingerly from my palm and grinned.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, studying it carefully. And even though it was just a folded piece of paper, Marilee’s face shifted. Her expression of pleasure made my heart beat a little faster. It felt more than satisfying to bring happiness back to her face, no matter how fleeting it might have been. I tugged the list from my pocket, unfolded it, and smoothed my hands over the surface.

  “Is that the list?” Marilee asked.

  I nodded.

  “That’s why I gave you the origami bird.”

  “Oh?” Marilee said. Her expression told me that she had no idea where I was going with this.

  “Mrs. Mori makes these little origami things, and sells them for almost nothing on the Strip. It’s what she does for money.”

  Marilee gazed down at the bird again, running a finger over its crisp lines.

  “She has this thing with birds. A lot of people call her the bird lady because when she’s not selling her stuff on the Strip, she’s in the park feeding the birds. Actually, she has full conversations with them,” I said, shrugging. Marilee stared at me silently. I continued.

  “I think that if she didn’t use so much of her money to buy birdseed she might have a better life. Some people think she’s crazy, maybe she is, but to be honest I can’t be sure. I’ve seen her in the park too many times not to believe that she’s probably more sane then a lot of people. I know it sounds corny but I have to admire how she’s living her life, finding joy in the world around her. I’ve seen her there with her birds and I can only describe the expression on her face as utter bliss, at the very least absolute happiness.”