“Out back!” she called back. “Come on round.”
A few moments later, the tousled dark hair of the band’s guitarist appeared round the side of the house. He had come straight from school and was wearing dark chinos and a white shirt, open at the neck. He was carrying a large folder.
“Hi,” he said, removing his sunglasses. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping by.”
“Not at all,” said Lori, closing her sketch book. “Can I get you a coffee or a beer?”
“Any soda?” asked Rich, setting the folder down on the table.
“Sure, it’s diet. Is that ok?” asked Lori, getting up.
“As long as it’s cold and wet.”
“Take a seat. I’ll be back shortly.”
“Need a hand?” he offered.
“No. I’m good, thanks.”
Lori returned a few minutes later with two bottles of diet coke and a bag of pretzels. As she sat back down, she winced – a sharp stab of protest from her thigh, suggesting that one cane wasn’t enough. If Rich noticed, he politely ignored her discomfort.
“How was school?”
“Good actually,” he said. “Most of the kids are keen so that helps.”
“Pity you couldn’t get a post for Jake,” commented Lori. “He was over earlier. He’s so pissed off at the pizza place.”
“I know and it’s a total waste of his talents,” agreed Rich. “Trust me, I’m working on it. Even if I can get him two or three days a week it would pay more. Hopefully I’ll get confirmation this week from the principal.”
“Fingers crossed,” said Lori then, deciding to tease him a little, asked, “Have you framed that napkin art work yet?”
He laughed, then confessed he had actually bought a frame for it. Lori blushed at the thought of her music note doodles on a Hooters napkin being framed.
“I had no idea you were Mz Hyde,” Rich confessed. “Turns out I was the last to know.”
“It’s not something I broadcast,” explained Lori. “It was a side of me I had retired for a while, but she’s back in business now.”
“I guess it’s an easy thing to work on while you recover from your accident,” Rich mused, taking a handful of pretzels.
“I hope so,” she said quietly. “Jake said you wanted to ask me a favour.”
All of a sudden Rich seemed shy and embarrassed. He started, then stopped what he was planning to say, stumbling over his words. Lori stared at him, then stated calmly, “You want me to talk to the kids at the school.”
“Yes,” he sighed, relieved that she had cut to the chase. “The school has a small senior class who are keen to pursue careers in graphic art and design. We’ve had a few guest tutors in over the semester and I was hoping you could spare a couple of afternoons to work with them.”
“I have no experience of teaching,” she said, “But, if it helps you out, I’ll give it a go. What kind of things have your guests done with them?”
“Glad you asked,” he said, reaching for the folder he had brought.
Rich talked animatedly about the examples he had brought of the art students’ work. Some of it was quite impressive and showed originality. Lori browsed through the test pieces for a few minutes, then closed over the folder.
“Would it be possible to talk to the art teacher first?”
Of course. You’ll love Linsey. She’s great with the kids. She’d be honoured to talk with you,” he gushed excitedly.
Lori giggled and he paused.
“And you happen to like this Linsey?” she teased.
“That obvious?”
Lori nodded.
“Sorry,” apologised Rich, fidgeting with the leather cord bracelet he wore.
“Ok,” began Lori. “Give her my number. I’ll talk to her and we can take it from there. I might even put in a good word for you.”
“Thanks,” he said, with genuine relief.
Lori scribbled her phone number on a piece of scrap paper that Rich passed to her then, as an after- thought, added her email address.
Downing the last of his soda, he rose to leave, “Thanks again, Lori. I appreciate it.”
“Happy to help,” she said genuinely.
“Great. I’d better head,” he said. “I’ve got test papers to mark. Really rock ‘n’ roll.”
“Well, if it pays the bills,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve got work to finish off too.”
“Anything exciting?”
“Some album artwork for a band from Sacramento,” she replied cryptically. “Sorry. Can’t name names.”
“The ever discrete Mz Hyde,” teased Rich. “Take care, Lori. Get Jake to bring you along to rehearsal sometime.”
“Perhaps,” she agreed, reaching for her sketch pad. “Have fun grading those papers.”
After Rich left, she worked on for a couple of hours pulling together an intricate design of bolts and cogs. It took on an almost natural 3D form and that gave her inspiration to draw some more of it from a different perspective to enhance the 3D effect. She was having fun with the piece and was reluctant to stop for the evening, however, it had grown chilly now that the sun was setting. When she retired indoors, she put the Silver Lake album on via her iPod filling the house with loud music while she prepared her dinner. Having eaten her salad alone with another bottle of soda, Lori decided to retire to bed for the evening with a book.
♪
The boardwalk was crowded on Saturday afternoon as she made her way along towards the pizza parlour. Lori had asked the cab driver to drop her off one block south of the main avenue so she could stretch her legs a little before she met up with Jake, plus she was fifteen minutes early. It was a damp, hazy day but that hadn’t deterred folk from visiting town for the weekend. Most of the benches were occupied and she couldn’t find a spot where she had agreed to meet Jake. Eventually she found an empty bench near the bandstand. Quickly, she rummaged in her bag for her phone and sent him a text message to say where she was. As a last minute thought she’d stuffed her small sketch book into the bag too. She was still flicking through it, reflecting on the draft designs for the album piece, when Jake flopped down on the bench beside her.
“Last shift over!” he sighed, with a huge grin.
“Did Rich get the go ahead?” she asked excitedly, almost dropping her book.
“Called last night,” said Jake, putting his arm around her shoulders. “Three days a week till summer break, then full time from September with a bit of luck.”
“Brilliant news,” she declared, kissing him on the cheek. “Congratulations.”
He pulled her into his embrace and kissed her full on the lips, his tongue gently, teasingly caressing hers.
“No more fucking pizza,” he sighed, as he moved away from her. “No more late shifts.”
Lori laughed and ruffled his long hair. “You’ll need to cut this if you’re going to be Mr Power, music teacher.”
“No way!” he exclaimed, knocking the sketchpad off her lap. “The hair stays.”
He bent down to retrieve the fallen book. It had landed open at the butterfly design.
“That’s pretty,” he observed, handing the book back to her. “Would make a nice tattoo.”
“Thanks. I was just doodling the other day,” she replied, putting the sketchpad back into her hobo bag. “I hadn’t thought of it as a tattoo design.”
“Speaking of body art, we’d better make a move. Danny will be waiting. Are you ok to walk a few blocks?” he asked, as he helped her to her feet.
Lori nodded and they set off up the main street. As they walked away from the boardwalk it grew quieter and less crowded. The tattoo parlour was a couple of blocks up from Hooters restaurant. A wind chime jangled as Jake pushed the door open and a surprisingly clinical smell hit them. Inside the shop there were three chairs, resembling vintage dentist chairs, a long low bench seat running along one wall and two private cubicles screened off at the end.
“Jake?” called a hearty voice from the back room of the
shop.
“Hi, Dan,” called back Jake. “I’ve brought a friend to watch. Is that ok?”
“Sure,” said a tiny, bald man emerging from the rear of the shop. He was wearing jeans and a pristine white vest T-shirt. Almost every visible piece of skin on his arms was covered with designs.
“Danny, meet Lori,” introduced Jake. “Lori, this is Danny, ink artist extraordinaire.”
“Pleased to meet you, princess,” said Danny, bowing theatrically. “Been in the wars I see.”
“Pleasure,” said Lori, suddenly nervous of this strange diminutive tattooed man. She turned to Jake, “So now will you tell me what you’re having done?”
“Not yet,” teased Jake, removing his denim jacket. “Dan, did you get the design onto the transfer ok? I don’t want this smudged. It has to be crisp lines.”
“Yes, boss,” said Danny, stretching on a pair of dark coloured surgical gloves. “Choose your throne, if you please.”
Jake settled himself in the middle chair, while Lori sat on the bench opposite. This was a whole new experience for her and she watched with childlike curiosity as Danny swabbed then shaved Jake’s inner right forearm. The ink artist explained to her that the skin had to be prepared as though he were about to perform surgery. Next he aligned the design transfer, checked with Jake if he was happy with the position then they debated for a few minutes before finally agreeing the exact angle. Swiftly and skilfully, he drew on the design with a fine marker pen. In complete fascination, Lori watched him draw out the design, then focus on the lettering that went underneath. When he was finished the hand drawn outline she saw it was a line of music with the words “Stronger Within” written in script underneath.
“Happy?” Danny asked Jake. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
“Keep it as crisp as that and I’m happy,” said Jake, with a wink over at Lori. “You’re not squeamish are you, li’l lady?”
Lori laughed. “After all I’ve been through, are you kidding?”
“Just checking,” he replied, with a warm smile. “Come over here and watch if you like.”
“I’m fine here,” she assured him. “I can see just fine. It’s fascinating.”
Danny had a tray laid beside him with the paraphernalia required to complete the tattoo and had loaded up the ink cartridges. Picking up the hand held tattoo gun, he checked Jake was ok and happy to proceed one final time. Jake nodded and relaxed back in the chair with his eyes closed. The ink artist worked accurately and carefully, pausing to steady his hand every few minutes. He worked in complete silence, his entire focus on Jake’s forearm. Both men appeared oblivious to Lori’s presence. Realising this she brought out her sketch book and began a sketch of Jake as he reclined on the “throne”. She rarely drew people and had never done portraits professionally but it didn’t hurt to practice for pleasure now and again. Silence reigned over the tattoo parlour, apart from the buzz of the machine. Throughout the entire procedure, Jake never flinched and lay back with his eyes closed looking the ultimate picture of calm. Eventually Danny was happy with his work. He turned off the gun and laid it on the tray beside him. Before speaking to Jake, he removed the used needle disposing of it into the yellow sharps bin beside him. Carefully, he cleaned up the fresh tattoo and wiped Jake’s arm down with antiseptic.
“Want to inspect it?” he asked, poking Jake in the ribs.
“Sure,” said Jake sitting up. He gave the fresh tattoo the once over, rotating his wrist to ensure the lines stayed straight and nodded in silent approval.
“Want a closer look, li’l lady?” he asked Lori.
She moved over to inspect Danny’s work and was impressed with the accuracy and sharpness of the design. Small drops of blood were beginning to ooze through the fresh ink. Just as she was about to comment on this, Danny applied a warm, damp towel over the area.
“Ok, Jake, are we photographing this one for my art gallery?” he asked hopefully.
“No,” replied Jake, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “Lori, can you take a photo of it for me please?”
He passed her his phone and, when Danny removed the towel, she took a few quick shots of the freshly tattooed design then passed the phone back to Jake.
“Can I take a photo with my phone?” she asked.
“No,” said Jake bluntly, much to her surprise. “Maybe later.”
Swiftly Danny covered the fresh tattoo with a white dressing and taped it in place. “OK, Jake,” he said, passing him a folder with the bill and aftercare instructions. “You know the drill.”
Jake nodded, “I should do by now.”
He drew a wad of notes out of his back pocket and handed them over. Danny pocketed the cash without counting it.
“Lori,” began Jake, carefully putting his jacket back on over his arm. “Show Dan your butterfly design.”
Obligingly, she opened the sketch book at the picture of the delicate blue butterfly. Danny nodded approvingly, “That would work well. Love the lines of it. Did you design it?”
“Guilty as charged,” said Lori, slipping the book back into her bag.
“Well, I’ll tattoo that for you anytime, princess,” he offered. “Would look good on an ankle or the inside of your wrist.”
“I’ll think about it,” said Lori, adjusting her grip on her canes.
“Right, let’s go,” declared Jake, opening the door for her. “Till next time, Dan.”
“Next time, Jake,”
The street outside was quiet when they emerged from the tattoo parlour. Both of them agreed they were hungry, so Jake guided them towards the nearest restaurant.
“Seafood ok?” he asked.
“Perfect,” agreed Lori. “And will you explain the tattoo over dinner?”
“Maybe,” he teased. “Stings like hell right now.”
“I’ll bet,” she said softly. “I’m not sure I could do that.”
“Your butterfly would look good inside your wrist,” he commented. “But it has to be your choice. Ink isn’t for everyone.”
“I think you’ve enough for both of us and then some,” she declared, as he held the restaurant door open for her.
“For now, yes,” he agreed, with a mischievous wink.
They had to wait for a table, but were finally seated at a small table near the rear of the restaurant. A group of teenagers were at the table in the centre and they kept glancing over at Jake and Lori. The attention made him uneasy, but he conceded that it went with the Silver Lake territory. It made him wonder if he could handle fame and fortune if the band ever made it. Sometimes he doubted it; sometimes he craved it, especially when he was on stage. Before their meal arrived, Lori prompted him for an explanation about his choice of new artwork. Without looking up, he said simply, “I wrote the music for you. I played it for you first. It just felt right to wear it and see it every time I play.”
“I’m flattered,” she replied, totally lost for something more appropriate to say.
“Each of my tattoos tells a part of my life story. That one is for this chapter,” he added quietly. “Call me a romantic fool if you like.”
“No, I get it,” she said softly. “It’s one of the most extreme displays of affection I’ve seen though. I’m honoured.”
Jake reached across the table and took both of her hands in his, “I’ve fallen in love with you, li’l lady.”
“Likewise,” confessed Lori, then added, “And it scares me a bit.”
“Likewise,” he admitted, with a smile. “But it’s a good kind of scared.”
It was getting late by the time they had paid the bill. Without a word of complaint, Lori let Jake call a cab to get them back to the house. As they waited for the cab to arrive the table of teenagers came past them. One of them, a long haired boy, paused and asked, “Are you that guy from Silver Lake?”
“Guilty,” said Jake, a little more bluntly than he intended. “You were right down the front at Surfside weren’t you?”
“Sure was,” said the boy obv
iously impressed that Jake recognised him. “You guys are awesome, man!”
“Why, thank you,” said Jake, noticing the cab pulling up beside them.
The teenager was rummaging in his pocket and pulled out the receipt from their meal, “Can you sign this for me?”
Lori passed him a pen from her bag and he scrawled his autograph across the check. “Need to go. Take care.”
“Thanks,” said the young fan, staring at the autograph.
As she climbed into the cab, Lori started to giggle. Jake clambered in beside her, gave the driver the address then sat muttering about autograph hunters. The more he muttered, the more Lori giggled.
“Christ, we were only out for dinner. I wasn’t even playing.”
“Chill,” she said. “It goes with the territory. You’ll need to get used to it, if the band ever really takes off. You need kids like that to get you where you want to be.”
“Harrumph,” Jake mumbled, hating to admit she was right.
“Plus,” added Lori. “I can sense a sudden interest in music amongst teenage girls on the horizon when you start at the high school. Are you ready for that?”
“I guess,” he relented, with a long sigh. “Don’t you ever get that kind of attention?”
“Occasionally,” she answered. “When I’ve been at events in New York or the like. You just need to paint on that Disney smile and go with the flow. Even though inside you are screaming to be left alone.”
Jake laughed, “That about sums it up.”
Once back at the beach house, they settled on the couch in the sun room to watch a movie. It was one they had both seen before which was just as well because they had missed the first twenty minutes. Lori had just returned from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn for them to share when Jake’s cell phone rang. The rattle of “Sweet Home Alabama” was cut short as he answered the call, “Grey, what’s up?”
The colour drained from Jake’s face as he listened to his friend. Lori watched with concern, praying that nothing was wrong.
“Bring her here, Grey,” said Jake. “I’m at Lori’s and I’ve not got wheels.” Quickly he gave out Lori’s address.
Stronger Within (The Silver Lake Series Book 1) Page 11