by Carver Pike
No more time to waste. Hours had gone by and Nikki would be getting off work soon. If I was going to complete the call, it would need to happen now. The sun would be coming up in a couple of hours. This call needed to happen before daylight did. I dialed the number and let it ring.
“Swift Fleet…”
Laughter felt great. It was the perfect touch. This time I didn’t struggle under a throaty growl. No, I laughed out loud, nearly like a cackle. It was sure to drive frozen spikes into her bones.
“Hello?” she said.
The slightest quiver had set into her voice and I knew I had her. Now it was time to bring back the memories. If she didn’t remember our childhood, she’d definitely remember the other night in the alley. I whistled a familiar tune.
Ring around the rosy. Pocket full of posies. Ashes…ashes…we all fall down.
I drug out the last note on the word “down” until the melody floating from my lips cracked and fell out of tune, the way a baby doll with a drained battery or a music box at the end of its spring might die down.
“Thanks for calling,” she said. “I’m going to hang up now.”
Her intention was to sound tough and angry but it wasn’t working. She was afraid. She knew the tune and dreaded it. It didn’t fit in her world now. It definitely didn’t belong on the other end of the phone, destroying the small sanctuary she’d built for herself at Swift Fleet.
“D…d…don’t do that, please,” I said.
“What’s the nature of your emergency?” she asked. “If there is one. I don’t have time for games.”
“Deathhhhhhh,” I said, letting the word drag out for emphasis.
“Who is this?” she asked, demanding it, as if I might reveal my name so easily.
Silly girl.
“It’s s…so n…nice to hear you,” I said.
“Very funny. Goodbye,” she said.
“Wait! Don’t hang up on me or I’ll gut you like…”
She hung up. I don’t even think she heard my threat. And it was my best Scream impression.
So she’d hung up, but I thought the call had gone well.
“Brilliant,” Hag whispered.
“Sure scared the shit out of her,” Rotten wheezed into my ear.
“CAN’T WAIT TO FUCKING KILL HER!” Samuel yelled.
The demons were satisfied for the night. I walked to my car, parked only a couple of blocks away, and threw the phone into a puddle, making sure to step on it hard and smash it nice and good. Nobody would be using that thing. It looked no different from any other dropped, smashed phone in the city. This was a good night.
Chapter 14 – Kevin
Mentally, I’d come prepared to accept Nikki on her first day working at the shop. I wasn’t happy about the situation, but I get over things fairly quickly and had decided to do my best to welcome her into what Ivory seemed to think would be a second shot at a real family for all of us. He’d told me a couple of nights before that he could see us getting together for Thanksgiving and Christmas and Fourth of July.
Part of me wanted to tell him to shut the hell up and stop being so dramatic. Stop being so hopeful was more like it. Nikki always ran away. It’s what she did best. Hell, she’d been engaged not long ago and where did that end up? Where was that guy now? Would he be joining us for our turkey day pow wow? Would he be involved in Nikki’s next New Year’s celebration? No. He was gone. Just like we’d be whenever Nikki decided she had something better to run to.
Maybe I was being hard on her. She had never done anything to me. Not intentionally anyway. She was nice to me. At least that much was true. She didn’t make fun of me and didn’t ask me for anything. I’d expected Ivory to be there on her first day but he’d called me to say that he wasn’t feeling very well. He said he’d explain everything later but if I could help Nikki feel welcome he’d really appreciate it. So I did my best.
I’d been watching something on HGTV when she walked in. Something about watching people sell a house I could never afford in order to buy one of three other houses I could never afford is so damn captivating. Watching these shows, I feel like I’m on The Price is Right but I suck at it because I’m only thinking, “Oh, buy that one!” Then the next house I say, “No, buy that one!” I do that over and over again. One day my brother and I will have enough saved up to buy a nice house somewhere outside the city. Maybe it will be off a main highway where we can have a roadside shop and tattoo traveling bikers.
I stopped watching when she entered. Trying not to stare at a woman like Nikki was impossible. You could try. You could look down at your feet or over at the wall or over her shoulder and beyond, but you’d always come right back to her stunning face. Yes, her boobs were a sight to behold, but the sparkle in her eye is what really set her apart. When her eyes locked on mine that day, I forgot all the issues I had with her. I forgot about trying to keep her away from my brother. Somehow, in that moment, I imagined that maybe I could be wrong. Maybe she really would stick around and be a different Nikki than the one I knew.
Anything is possible.
“N...N…Nikki,” I said. “H…How are you?”
We hugged and said hello. When we separated, I couldn’t help thinking she was looking at me funny, but then she passed me and went to her work station where she began setting things up for her appointment. Stuttering in front of her wasn’t as bad as doing it in front of beautiful women I was meeting for the first time, but it still bothered me. So I reverted to the only way I knew to calm my nerves and whistled the tune Mrs. Rebecca had taught me so many years ago. It saddened me to think about her, but the tune helped, so I whistled.
Ring around the Rosy…a pocket full of posies…ashes…ashes…we all fall down.
“Kevin,” I heard Nikki say. “Why are you whistling that tune?”
It was a stupid question if ever there was one. I’d been whistling it all my life. She knew that. She’d heard me whistle it a hundred times.
“Wha…what?” I said.
“You were whistling ring around the rosy,” she said. “Why?”
“B…b…because Mrs. Rebecca t…t…taught me that,” I replied. “I always wha…wha…whistle that.”
You know that. You’ve always known that.
“T…t…to calm my st…st…stutter,” I added. “It wa…works. Remember?”
She looked at me like I was a stranger. I didn’t like it. It reminded me of the way Melanie looked at me when I told her she wasn’t my woman, that she was Ivory’s. It reminded me of the way Amber looked at me when she yelled at me about letting her kids watch Star Wars and the way Cherry looked at me in the strip club the night I told her I didn’t want the lap dance. It was a look that said I was stupid. That I’d done something wrong and didn’t understand what was going on.
Don’t look at me like that, Nikki. Please.
“Kevin,” Nikki said. “Did you call me last night at work?”
Why would I call you at work? Why would I call you at all?
“W…well I don’t know where you wa…work,” I said. “Y…you work h…h…here, right, Na…Nikki?”
She continued to stare at me as if waiting for some lie I was telling to crumble apart. I didn’t understand. Why would she think that I’d called her?
“Where’s James?” she finally asked, and I was so glad she’d changed the subject.
“I…Ivory? He…he…he’s not feeling well,” I replied. “He…c…called me and said t…t…to tell you. B…b…but I forgot.”
“Oh,” she said. “I kind of wanted to see him.”
“B…but you can s…s…see me,” I said.
Whatever had been on her mind seemed to fade away. An odd silence passed between us and then finally the corners of her mouth crept upward into a smile, mirroring my own.
“I missed you,” she said.
“M…m…me too, N…Nikki,” I replied and I meant it.
For the first time since her return, I truly did miss her. Her smile was so genuine that it
took me back to our days in Mrs. Rebecca’s house. To our days of playing board games, watching scary movies, and even that one time we held a séance of sorts. Some childish game that scared the shit out of us all. Nikki had been there through some good times, some really bad, and some very crazy ones.
Mrs. Rebecca wronged you. She may have brought so much good into my life but she robbed you of a childhood we’d all come to appreciate.
I thought the words but I didn’t say them. I couldn’t say them.
Shortly after Nikki’s arrival, my client showed up. Roderick was a young playboy of sorts. He liked to come around and talk about all the pussy he’d claimed. He was a club promoter so he was always dressed to the nines. This time he came in slacks and a t-shirt, with his nicer coat, shirt, and tie on a hanger for after the appointment. This guy never stopped working. Getting his tattoo freshened up was only a short pit stop for the night.
Roderick had been a client of mine for some time. He’d been blown away by the 3D-style spider I’d given him and this time around, I was only putting some touch ups on a very special piece. It was one of my best. He’d wanted a steampunk looking clock inside the skin of his shoulder and arm. I don’t brag much about my work but this thing was phenomenal. I’d always appreciated Roderick’s visits because he whined like a little bitch. Some people can handle needles with no problem at all and then there are those who pass out at the sight of one. Some people just squeal, squirm, and sniffle with every poke. Roderick was one of those people.
As soon as the needle touched his skin, his eyes watered and I truly believe if it wasn’t for his immediate infatuation with the hot blonde to my right, my client may have broken down and wept right there at my booth. Even her presence wouldn’t have kept him quiet much longer, but then someone new walked through our door, jingling the little bell above it.
I’ve said many times during this story that women stunned me with their beauty, especially the ones who looked genuine and pure, but this one brought with her a wisp of chilly outdoor air that blew through the room, wrapped around my skull, and seeped up through my mouth and down my nostrils and throat. She took my breath away and it wasn’t until I nearly dropped my tattoo machine that I realized I hadn’t inhaled fully since she’d entered. Breathing didn’t seem important.
“Jane,” Nikki said. “Hey! Come over here.”
Jane. It was too simple a name. I wondered if it was short for anything. Was it? Maybe Janabelle or Janethia? It couldn’t be only Jane. She deserved so much more than that. She had a vulnerability about her but so much sass at the same time. She wore her dark brown hair close cropped to her head, almost boy-like, and her ears were slightly pointed giving her a somewhat elvish look. Yet, she was so pretty. She had the devilish grin you might see on a girl who’d walked into a party that had run out of liquor, with a bottle of tequila in each hand. Yet, she was empty handed. She’d only brought herself to this party.
Nikki pulled her curtain closed as soon as Jane entered her booth, and just like that, my peep show was over.
“I’d fuck her,” Roderick whispered to me.
“Who?” I whispered back.
“The blonde,” he said. “Hell…both of ‘em to be honest.”
When I finished with my touch up work, Roderick went on his way, vowing to return soon for something new he had in mind. I looked forward to hearing him bitch and whine through another major piece. Once he was gone, I found myself sitting alone watching more home improvement shows at a low volume. Nikki had Jane’s remarkably smooth skin as her canvas and I didn’t want to be the cause of any mistakes.
“You guys got any available appointments?”
Ivory’s voice beat the bell, making me jump. The copper jingle finally caught up, but by then he’d already made his way halfway across the room. Then I saw his face and the bandaged up side of his body. He looked like shit. This must have been what he meant when he said he wasn’t feeling very well. Hot rage boiled through my blood. He’d gone to Red’s the night before and I knew where I’d be going tonight. Someone would fess up to messing with my brother, and when he did, I’d kick his fucking ass.
“What the f…f…fuck h…happened to you?” I asked.
Nikki showed up behind me when Ivory started talking about how he’d gone to Red’s and saw the girl Valerie from the other night, the gangbanger’s girlfriend, and this and that. He said a lot of words but none of them meant anything to me. All I could think about was hunting down the guys who’d hurt my brother. They were going to pay. I’d find them and they’d pay. This time I welcomed the black out. I wanted to black out and hurt whoever had hurt Ivory.
“Wh…wh…where are th…the guys?” I asked.
My rage must have been noticeable because Ivory rushed to me and tried to hug me through his pain. He wasn’t able to without doubling over and leaning his head against my shoulder.
“You’re h…h…hurt,” I said.
“I’m fine,” he promised. “You should see the other guys.”
“Should I call you to reschedule?” Jane asked.
No! Don’t go.
Through all the drama of Ivory showing up beaten to a pulp, I’d forgotten all about Nikki and her client. I didn’t want Jane to go. I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. I’d overheard her story the first time Nikki told it. Her husband had cheated on her right after she’d beaten breast cancer. I didn’t care if she was missing a breast or not. It added to the mystery of her and any man who’d be willing to leave his wife when she needed him most was an asshole. It didn’t matter to me that she had kids. Nothing mattered. I only wanted to see her a while longer.
I turned to face Jane, pushed my anger to the back of my mind, and I smiled at her.
“S…s…stay,” I said. “Let’s all go g…g…get something to eat.”
That’s what led to us all going for pie at Del Mar’s diner. I know I said I had no plans to visit there again anytime soon, but the mishap the other day was early in the morning so I doubted any of the douchebags I’d encountered would be hanging around at night. Plus, they did have the best damned pie in the area.
It was a nice evening. I couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Jane the entire time. The small talk meant little to me. It was Jane who brought up the topic of Mrs. Rebecca and the past we all shared. Ivory and Nikki told funny stories about a brother of ours, a foster brother named Neal, and how he once stole freshly baked pumpkin pies and put them behind the wheels of Mrs. Rebecca’s car. I’d forgotten all about that. He really was a crazy little prick. He’d been an odd one. I’d never been able to tell whether he liked Nikki or Ivory more. He seemed somewhat enamored with both.
When we finally left Del Mar’s, I walked Jane home and Ivory took care of Nikki. It was a great idea, but being alone with her meant I’d need to talk and I wasn’t looking forward to that. I wished we could communicate through written love notes. Whether or not she liked me at all was still a mystery to me. She hadn’t shown me much attention. Then, when we were alone on the street, she did.
“You don’t talk much do you?” she asked.
“I…I…I don’t l…like to,” I said.
“I can see that,” she said. “But it seems to me whenever you do say something, it’s pretty intelligent. I think you should talk more.”
She would have seen me blush if it had been lighter out. I was thankful for the darkened sidewalks that covered me.
“Th…th…thank you,” I said.
We walked on in silence until finally I got up the nerve to try and be flirtatious. It never comes out the way I hope but I thought I’d at least make an attempt.
“Y…y…you are s…so strong,” I said, “and s…so b…beautiful. I l…l…like you.”
Only silence followed and for a moment I wondered if I’d made a mistake. Had I spoken too soon?
She might not appreciate that I called her strong. Obviously I meant she was strong for surviving the cancer and then making it through the sadness of losing
her husband to another woman.
She didn’t reply, but she did something better. Her hand reached out and her fingers intertwined through mine. She squeezed me tight, making sure I felt her hand there. I wasn’t sure what the gesture meant. Thinking back, I’d never had a single woman hold my hand. Never. I’d made love and I’d had sex and I’d spooned and other things that come with any woman you’re intimate with, but I’d never felt the warmth or the fragileness of a frail hand in mine.
To her, it might have meant nothing more than a nice gesture. To me it was the beginning of something. She trusted me enough to give me her hand.
Don’t think too much, Kevin. Don’t allow yourself to fall. She doesn’t mean it. She doesn’t like you like that. It’s too soon for something like that. Don’t be foolish.
But I wanted to be foolish. I wanted to be a complete and utter fool.
“My husband was a good man,” she suddenly said. “He is deep down. But I can never forgive him for what he did to me. My body was going through so much trauma and I was going through so much stress and I know that’s hard for a man to handle. No man wants to watch his woman struggle. But the answer isn’t to slide into bed with the hot floozy from work.”
Does she expect a response? Is there anything I can say that will make her understand how much I really do understand?
“You have no idea the feeling of loneliness that comes with fighting for your life. My husband could watch me take the pills and he could watch me go through chemo and he could watch me cry and struggle. He could say that he was there for me, but in the end, I was on my own. I was alone. Only I could feel the pain and the exhaustion my body was going through. If it weren’t for my mind…I just…never mind.”