two- The Thursday Tattoo

Two lines meet, creating a sharp point. Seven sharp points, a star, surrounds a sacred centerpiece; a scroll, four numbers, and gold filigrees. Dylan draws a sheriff’s badge for a dead sheriff’s brother, who wants to memorialize his heroic sibling on his right shoulder. She alternates hands as she touches up the details. Her lines are straighter with her right hand and her curves bolder with her left. The sheriff’s brother jokes that she’s showing off. Dylan laughs politely; a two syllable monotone laugh, the kind you hear when you’re not worth a fake one. She has a right to be arrogant. Dylan can draw anything, with anything, better than most people can. She would have gone to some art school if her father would have paid for it. He bought her an economics degree instead.

Satisfied with the badge, Dylan hands the mockup to Nick so he can start engraving the symbol on the man’s shoulder. Dylan never touches the ink gun. She designs tattoos for people who come into the shop with either an original idea or an interesting story. The badge wasn’t original but the brother told a tearjerker. She also doesn’t let Nick pay her for the two hours she works each day, drawing and keeping the books. She calls it her hobby, an outlet for her artistic hunger, which is true. But she also feels guilty knowing that she makes more money in one day than her best friend makes in a week.

Nick’s tattoo shop is small but clean. There are two stations separated from the waiting area by hospital curtains. In the waiting area sits two worn out leather couches and a bean-bag to keep the customers’ muscles relaxed while they nervously wait to get thousands of holes drilled into their backs, arms, and ass cheeks. On the white walls are old concert posters that Nick buys off eBay. Nick is an audiophile and installed a surround sound stereo system in the shop but keeps the satellite radio off while he’s working. The buzz of the ink gun keeps him calm and focused. There aren’t any pictures of tattoos on the wall. They’re all on the shop’s website. Nick believes that people should come in with their own idea. If someone doesn’t know what they want, either Nick or Dylan decides for them.
The shop is well known, locally, for Nick’s talent and negotiable prices. The first year it was opened, Nick had three appointments and a few walk-ins a week. To get more customers, he started what became known as “Tattoo Thursday”, one day a week when all tattoos were priced by size: $25, $50, $100 for small, medium, and large. That first Thursday he had three appointments and 7 walk-ins. The word spread that he was actually good and more people came, on other days too. A year after the opening, Nick changed the name of his shop from Nick’s Tattoo Shop, he admits to a lack of literary creativity, to The Thursday Tattoo.

Dylan met Nick while interviewing with different banks and investment firms. Having just opened his tattoo shop, Nick worked as a bike messenger to keep himself from starving. While in the same elevator, Dylan couldn’t take her eyes off of one of his sleeves. The sleeve was complex and the tattoos intricately but smoothly interwoven together. But it was just one tattoo that Dylan couldn’t stop looking at. Tied up in the middle of a Celtic knot was the name Audrey. She didn’t realize it, but she had started humming “Moon River”. Nick laughed and started to sing out loud, “two drifters off to see the world...” Redder than her lipstick, surprised but impressed, Dylan laughed and sang along.

An hour after Dylan finished drawing the badge, Nick finishes tattooing it on the sheriff’s brother. He is the last tattoo of this long Thursday. He pays Dylan $50 dollars for his medium sized tattoo and she tells him not to scratch it. A few moments later, the man leaves content and weak and the shop is closed for the day.

Outside the streetlights flicker on and the new buds sparkle on the tree branches. It’s warm and the whoosh from the cars driving by is the only sound. Nick has prepared the shop for closing and the only lights left on are the lamps at the stations and on Dylan’s desk. As Dylan packs her bag under the dim light, Nick scrolls through his iPod. He stops at a song and clicks it onto the speakers surrounding the dim-lit room. “Moon River wider than a mile…” The gentle guitar and Audrey’s voice filling the room, Nick blushes at the smile on Dylan’s face as she turns towards Nick, leaning against the door in jeans, flip-flops, and a black v-neck sweater with the sleeves rolled up. “Dance with me,” Nick says softly as Dylan walks towards him and the door. With a glow in her eyes she looks up into Nick’s, now standing close enough to hear his heart take an extra beat. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says gently. Bringing Nick’s hands up to her lips, she leaves a kiss on his fingers and walks towards the door.

As she goes out into the street, he watches her walk down the gray and orange sidewalk, her golden-brown hair tossing side to side. A warm breeze hits Nick’s face carrying with it a sweet fragrance. She turns the corner and Nick is alone.

The wind picks up, cold and thick, and Nick goes back inside. Audrey has stopped singing and the guitar hits its last note.