Tattoos: A Novel

by Denise Mathew

  “Somehow the word bullshit coming from your pretty lips takes on a new meaning,” Jax said, laughing.

  I brought my fingers to my lips, surprised that he’d said they were pretty. He leaned forward and gave me a peck on the forehead. I was slightly irritated by the chasteness of it. But I was mollified by the thought that there would be more chances to kiss him later. At least I hoped there would be.

  “So, I don’t really know how all this works with the bank account thing.”

  He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. As before, his uncertainty seemed out of place on someone like Jax, who exuded more than a little self-confidence.

  “I haven’t really had a bank account since I’ve never really had spare money to put in it.” He raked his hand through his hair, leaving it more spiky than before. I silently noted that it was just one more thing I loved about him.

  “Most of it can be done online. I’ll just need a few details from you and then you’ll get a bank card. You can make withdrawals whenever you need to, I figure I’ll put my name on it too. That way it will be easier for me to make deposits.”

  Jax still seemed guarded, but he nodded all the same. I was more than comforted that he was going to go through with it after all.

  “I’m not going to lie, this still feels really weird, but I’m trying to be cool about it,” he said, scratching the back of his head.

  “Would you mind passing me my purse,” I said, ignoring his comment. I pointed to where my purse lay abandoned on the floor. I imagined the look on Mom’s face if she’d seen what I’d done to her precious flowers, not to mention the Prada. The image made me smile again.

  Jax sidestepped the glass and flowers then snatched up the purse. He walked back to my bed. It was amusing how awkwardly he held it, as if it contained a bomb ready to detonate. He handed it to me. I dug inside and pulled out my hot pink, leather Marc Jacobs wallet. I unzipped it, counted out three hundred dollars in twenties then pressed the money into Jax’s palm. He whistled and shook his head.

  “You have this kind of coin just sitting around?”

  I shrugged. “It’s just money,” I said. Almost as soon as the words were out of my mouth I regretted what I’d said. It was a careless comment on my part. Obviously to Jax three hundred dollars was a lot of money. His statement only made me see with glaring clarity that Jax and the people on his list weren’t as fortunate as I was in the finance department. Nobody that lived on the Strip was.

  He cocked his head to the side. “Yeah I guess that’s how it is when you’re rolling in it.”

  Mild irritation niggled at me, but I decided to let it go. I kind of deserved it after what I’d said.

  Jax tapped a finger on the paper. “I can probably get the next person on the list too, with this wad,” he said. He shoved the bills into the pocket of his faded jeans.

  “Who’s the next one?” I asked, intrigued.

  His eyes met mine. “That’d be Lacy.”

  “So what’s her story?”

  “The usual, a sixteen year old runaway living on the streets,” he said. He sighed as if it pained him to talk about it.

  “The usual? Runaways are usual?” I asked.

  I really had no idea about the world that existed outside of my own. In that moment regardless of how much I cared about him, I felt a chasm form between us, one that almost seemed impossible to maneuver around.

  “Unfortunately, more than I’d like to admit. Life can be hell…” His voice trailed off and his mouth formed a grim line. “Anyway she’s a little different than most people who live on the streets. She has plans that some cash can make happen.”

  “How do you know all this? Is she your friend or something?” I asked.

  He hissed out a huge breath. Jax cut his eyes to the wall then back to me. I noticed the angst in his expression.

  “Through the bad and good it’s my home. All those people matter to me, almost too much sometimes,” he said, pressing his lips together. I reached for his hand. It more than amazed me how he could care so much and for so many people. For the first time since I’d come up with the plan, I understood that what we were doing together mattered so much more to him than I’d realized. The people on the list weren’t just strangers like they were for me, they were part of him almost like an adopted family.

  “Lacy wants to get her GED so she can go for her Certificate of High School Equivalency and have a chance at something different. She’s smart enough you know, almost too smart sometimes. Right now she hooks on the Strip, but as always seems to be the case, she doesn’t have any cash to get the books. I can buy her what she needs, the books, supplies and whatever will help her start the courses.”

  “You’re saying that three hundred dollars can do all that. Help Mrs. Mori and Lacy?” I said. I tried to keep the note of incredulity out of my tone.

  “Pretty much, yeah,” Jax said. I shook my head. I felt sad that people really had to suffer so much, but I was also excited that in some small way we could make a difference for them.

  “Well, just wait until I start getting some real cash in your hands,” I said. Seeing that so little money could help so much, made me understand how massive this whole thing could become.

  Jax nodded. “This could be the beginning of something wonderful,” he said with a dramatic sweep of his hand. I laughed out loud, Jax did too.

  “I thought that you were out for good when you said you needed time. What made you come back?” I said when our laughter finally died away.

  His face turned somber.

  “Well the whole exploding vase kind of made me come back,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at me. I opened my mouth to speak. He put his hand up to silence me. “Two things brought me back. One was the fact that I was pissing an amazing opportunity away because of my overinflated pride and…”

  He curled his fingers around my hands. I held on.

  “What was the other reason,” I asked.

  “Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

  12. Jax

  I stared down at Mrs. Mori. For some reason she seemed even more diminutive than I’d remembered. Her face was alive with joy, every wrinkle creased deeper and more endearing. She’d never been the kind of person who showed much interest in human interaction, yet now she gripped my hands with the enthusiasm of a child. I had to admit that coming from her it meant so much more, accentuating how much Marilee’s money had already changed her life.

  I’d just carried the last few bags of what was supposed to be almost a years supply of bird seed, into the room she called home. I’d been to the abandoned subway stations that we’d called the Tunnels a few times before, for Raves or parties. Usually the parties were located in the area where people didn’t live on a permanent basis. I couldn’t help but be surprised at how many people actually lived there. Even in the few hours it had taken me to drag the bags of seed into Mrs. Mori’s apartment, I’d already realized that the community in the Tunnels was a tight-knit lot, who respected each others space unquestioningly.

  I also hadn’t expected that deep beneath the high rises of the city where countless people made their homes, each space was different in subtle ways. Despite the garbage and debris that littered the halls leading to her room, Mrs. Mori’s space was as spotless as seemed possible given where she lived. The concrete walls of her home were covered with strips of varying shades of green fabric, from mint to emerald and served to give the room a homey feel. A card table sized platform had two delicate china cups and a white ceramic teapot on its surface. Three windup camp lanterns lit the room with a muted glow that made me wonder how many cockroaches and rats lurked in the unlit areas. I shuddered, I’d always hated rats and cockroaches, especially the ones you couldn’t see. At least the cockroaches that lived in my building were law abiding varmints that didn’t bother to hide their presence.

  Several large bamboo mats covered the concrete floor. Unframed photos and pictures of birds of every kind were in every space
you looked. There were images of snowy white cockatiels with crowns of feathers, and parrots that were a riot of bright colors, frozen in mid-flight. I spotted an iridescent hummingbird, similar to the one I’d had tattooed on my arm, hovering in front of a crimson hibiscus flower. It made me feel like I was in a tropical rainforest, the only thing that was missing were the sounds of the birds.

  Her bed was spare, just a skinny mattress positioned on bricks with a large sheet of thin wood that brought it a few inches up off the floor. Plastic mesh baskets lined the walls and were filled with the materials she used for her origami. But by far the most extraordinary thing I saw in her home, were the hundreds, if not thousands, of origami creations hanging from invisible strings that dangled down from every space on the concrete ceiling. I studied them, noting how they floated, unmoving in suspended animation in the draft free place.

  “You are a very good boy, Jax,” she said. Even though she’d lived in America for what I was told was at least forty years, her distinctive Japanese accent was heavy. It made me wonder how different her life might have been if she’d stayed in her native land. In Japan the elderly were revered as wise, not considered burdens as so many were thought of in the Strip.

  “I’m only helping out a friend. I wish she could see this for herself,” I said. As good as it felt to help out, Marilee deserved to be a part of this too. I wanted her to witness with her own eyes the good she was doing in the world. Unfortunately she was way too weak to come with me.

  “Your friend is a good person too,” she said, pinching my cheek gently. I grinned, dazed that she’d not only spoken to me but had touched me again. I stuffed my hands into my pockets and smiled.

  “Well, you know, I’ve got to go,” I said. I was acutely aware that I was a stranger, and was standing in the middle of her living room.

  “A moment,” she said moving away. She reached for something in a corner that was shaded. When she turned back to me she held a dark lacquered wooden box, roughly the size of a tissue carton, in her tiny wrinkled hands. She carefully raised the lid and removed something that glinted red and metallic in the dim light.

  “For your friend,” she said, passing the treasure to me. I glanced down at the origami sculpture that was beyond exquisite. All I could think was that it must have taken countless hours to make. Constructed entirely of what I recognized as red foil gum wrappers was a dragon that was as large as my palm. Its wide mouth was open as if to release a breath of fire. Its long slender body was twisted a little as though it were in motion, and its clawed feet appeared to grip the palm of my hand.

  “This is incredible,” I said. Incredible seemed too measly a word to describe the intricacy of the design, but it was all I had.

  “It’s auspicious and will bring luck,” Mrs. Mori said.

  “This must have taken forever to make this…I can’t take it, it’s too much,” I said. I was overwhelmed that she actually wanted to give it to me.

  “Not for you, for the girl, she needs it now,” Mrs. Mori said.

  I tilted my head to the side not sure what she’d meant. I hadn’t told her anything about Marilee other than she’d donated the money for the seeds, so how did she know that Marilee would need the dragon for luck? Had she somehow sensed that Marilee wasn’t going to get well again?

  I rapidly shook the thought from my mind, she wasn’t Gran, she didn’t know the future. She was just an unconventional elderly woman, trying to convince me to graciously accept her gift. Or at least I hoped that was the case.

  “Why does she need it?” I asked. I wasn’t able to clear the worry from my mind because I instinctively knew there was more to her gift than her gratitude.

  Mrs. Mori’s eyes twinkled with pleasure. “You know already,” she said simply. It was evident from the expression on her face that she didn’t plan on explaining her statement.

  “Okay, well thanks again, I really…” I started to say.

  “The creatures that fill the air above our heads thank you too,” she said.

  With a lantern in her grasp, she slipped past me and out the curtained opening that separated her home from the hallway. She moved with cat-like grace and I had to quicken my pace to keep up with her. For some reason I was relieved to see the light of day again, as if I was breaking free from a darkness that threatened to keep me in its depths. I turned to thank her one more time for the dragon, but she’d already disappeared back into the Tunnels.

  In the fading light of the day, the dragon was even more magnificent than I’d initially thought. What at first had looked like one color of foil gum wrappers was in fact a combination of varying shades in green, red, gold and flecks of silver that when combined, gave the dragon the distinct appearance of having shimmering scales. Sharp fin like protrusions lined the back and were folded so fastidiously that they were needle like when I touched them. I half expected the foil to have punctured my skin.

  I tucked the dragon in the carrier box of my bike. Mounted over the back tire, the carrier box was a handy remnant from when it had been a messenger bike. I hopped on the warped bicycle and pedaled away. For a fleeting moment I thought about going to the hospital to give the dragon to Marilee. When I saw that it was already past six, I knew I couldn’t. I had a gig in a few hours.

  As I made my way home I was thankful for the sunny skies and unseasonably warm temperatures that the day had brought. I knew it wouldn’t last since it was November, but was grateful that the change had allowed me to take my bike to the Tunnels.

  The air had cooled considerably by the time I reached my building. I was more than glad that I’d for the most part dodged the bracing cold. It would have been a hellish ride otherwise. Already the sky had turned iron grey and seemed to promise rain.

  The door to the apartment swung wide even before I stuck my key in the lock. Gran, her face strained with worry, stood staring up at me. I couldn’t help but be anxious that something bad had happened.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly breathless. It felt as if someone had pumped all the air out of my lungs. Gran’s mouth formed an O, as if she’d just realized something. She shook her head.

  “Nothing dear, I’m just glad to see you,” she said, placing a well-worn hand on my cheek. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. I hadn’t been around as much as usual, with all the time I’d spent at the hospital and all. Yet when I had been home I’d noticed a change in her. More times than not, her usual unflappable nature was clouded by tension.

  Gran’s hand lingered on my cheek longer than seemed necessary. Once again I was apprehensive. I wondered if she wasn’t being completely honest and if she was keeping something from me. She, much like me, didn’t like to worry anyone with her problems. That meant that she would wait until the last minute to tell me if she was sick, or if there was a bill that needed paying, or just about anything that she deemed a stressor.

  “Are you sure everything is okay?” I asked.

  She blinked a few times, as if my voice had broken the trance she’d been in. Gran shot me a flustered glance then shook her head.

  “It’s nothing, nothing at all, just an overblown imagination and…”

  Her voice trailed off and she drifted into her thoughts. Now I knew for sure that something had her nerves in bunches. If I’d been any kind of half decent grandson I would have figured it out by now.

  I moved inside the apartment, closing the door behind me. I stared down at the origami dragon that I’d all but forgotten. I placed it carefully on a shelf full of paperback paranormal romances that Gran loved to read. Although I was still stoked to give the dragon to Marilee, it had taken a backseat to what was going on with Gran.

  Gran had slipped into a seat at the kitchen table. She was busy shuffling her tarot cards and hadn’t seemed to notice that I’d sat down across from her. She was halfway through reading her spread when I said her name. Gran flinched, clearly too into the cards to be aware of her surroundings.

  “What has you so jumpy?” I said, coverin
g her hand with mine. She closed her eyes and sighed hugely. It was as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Sensing Gran’s agitation reminded me one more time that my relationship with Marilee had taken up every part of my being. I’d neglected Gran, taken her for granted. Like a bookmark in a book, I’d expected that she’d always be exactly where I’d placed her, smiling and okay. I hadn’t bothered to notice that she’d been suffering all along.

  “Runes, maybe the runes will do it,” she mumbled under her breath, as if I hadn’t even spoken. Runes were wooden circles with characters from the Runic alphabet engraved on them, and were another divination tool that Gran sometimes used.

  “Seriously Gran, you’re scaring me, what’s going on? And don’t tell me it’s nothing, something definitely has you off your stride…” I paused. I swallowed a few times, trying to muster up the courage to ask her a question. One I was scared to get an answer to.

  “Are you sick?” I said. My voice was lower than a whisper. Instantly my throat went sawdust dry because if anything happened to Gran…well I just couldn’t…

  “Of course not,” Gran said. She released a laugh, so high and filled with amusement that it was like music to my ears. Her answer brought me to the next question on the list.

  “Is it money, are there some bills that need paying or…”

  She shook her head so vigorously that her curls bounced like a clown’s wig atop her head.

  “No, praise God, we’re managing,” she said crossing her fingers, as if the act would protect us. Another flood of relief rushed through me. In my mind anything that didn’t involve her being sick or money problems was easy enough to deal with.

  “Then what is it?” I said, leaning back against the frame of the chair. It creaked in response.

  All the humor left her face and her expression went solemn again. She touched the cards that were spread out in front of her. Her twisted finger rested a little longer on the Page of Cups that sat next to the Tower. I couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down my spine at seeing the damn Tower card again.