Tattooed Moon

by Tiana Laveen

  “People open up to you like you’re a bartender when you do what I do. I’m not filling them with alcohol; I’m filling them with permanent ink, an intoxication far more powerful. Ink is binding. It fades, but never goes away, and a good artist will make sure it stays as beautiful as the first day it was done. So, people come back to me, and then they tell me more and more about their lives. Now, you’ve told me little of nothing, but we’ve only known each other for a short while. That doesn’t matter though. You don’t get me, but I totally get you. I can tell that you are smart, very smart. You carry yourself a certain way, to try and send a message that you’re in control, though today’s attire varied greatly from before. Today, you were trying to get attention.”

  “What?” She twisted her body and her face, too, now unable to ignore his rambling.

  “Stop moving or you’ll get stuck again…”

  It almost sounded like a threat.

  “Milan, I’m not trying to upset you. You said you wanted to talk, so I’m talking.”

  “Well, maybe from now on you just need to be quiet.” She rolled her eyes and turned away.

  He shrugged his shoulders, his grin even wider now, but kept silent.

  Oh no…you don’t get off that easy! She’d changed her mind just that fast…

  “What did you mean, trying to get attention?”

  “Do you want me to talk to you or not? You just said for me—”

  “Forget what I said,” she snapped. “Just tell me what you meant.”

  “You are dressed provocatively, as if being dressed that way would give you more courage…maybe even to flirt with me.”

  “You can’t be serious!” she guffawed, but made sure she didn’t flinch. “Please don’t flatter yourself. I hope you are just kidding; you have an odd sense of humor.” She softened a bit, realizing the man may have just been putting her on once again; at least she hoped so. The fact that he was right didn’t mean anything at all. She dismissed that thought, swept it under the rug in rapid speed.

  “No, I’m not kidding this time around, and you know that I’m telling you the truth. That’s okay, though. I’m not ashamed to tell you that I’m attracted to you.” His eyes narrowed as the buzzing seemed to increase. He leaned over and studied some detail on her shoulder with great intensity. “I can tell you that, and be okay with it. Doesn’t mean we are going out after this, or anything. It just means I appreciate beauty when I see it and my pride is not harmed by making the admission.”

  “Hmmm…okay.” She huffed and glared at their reflection in the mirror. “You say you know me, right? That you get me, fine. I get you, too. You aren’t the only one able to read people, you know.” She refused to nurse his admissions of attraction, for if she did, a well would form between her legs and she’d be done for.

  He smiled and sank his teeth into his bottom lip, driving her mad.

  Stop that! Do you hear me?! Sexy…as…hell…

  “Tell me about myself…” he dared as he kept on working.

  “I will. I think you’ve had a hard luck life. I think you have all those damn tattoos to try and hide and protect yourself. You are witty, a bit quirky, and never fit in anywhere. You’re smart…too smart for your own good. It makes you think you are better than other people sometimes, too.” Her raised eyebrow was met with a smirk.

  That’s right. I said it…

  “I think you love women, and sex, and all that entails, but your intellectualism prevents you from becoming a full-fledged jerk. I think you believe in astrology because it matches how you interpret the world. Your head is in the clouds, but your foot stands firmly on reality. I get you just fine!”

  She turned away and closed her eyes, pleased with herself, knowing deep within that his ass had been read, toasted and thoroughly roasted.

  She heard him chuckle lightly, then louder.

  “Jeee-suuuus, Christ…yeah, that’s me. You do get me. Holy shit, I think you just made me fall in love with you, baby!” He burst out laughing so hard, she had to look at him. A vein protruded in the middle of his forehead; she longed to touch it.

  What in the hell?! I just handed him his own ass and he laughs, agrees and carries on like not a damn thing happened? Julian…Lord help you…

  She kept quiet as she let his words marinate, a strange feeling of contentment sweeping over her. This conversation felt like a damn roller coaster and the more time passed, the more drawn to him she became. He was an enigma, but yes…she really did understand him…

  “I’m an accountant.” She offered a peace pipe, fragrant and sweet like a succulent Georgia peach.

  He nodded. “Yes, I can see that you’d be drawn to that sort of profession.”

  “What, based on astrology?” she teased. “You don’t even know my birthday though.”

  “I do.”

  She searched her mind for when and where he could’ve found that out. He didn’t go up front to see the paperwork…

  “I don’t know the exact time you were born, however, so I don’t have the full picture. Angela, my assistant and receptionist, always emails me in advance the birth date of each customer I work on,” he confessed, taking her out of her confusion-driven misery. “She knows I want it. It helps me find out things that can aid in their relaxation. When you made the appointment, she asked for your birthday, amongst other bits of information. That gave me twenty-four hours to prepare. That’s why you have the white tea, why I changed the music and also why there is a yellow rose behind your ear. It is also why I anticipated you becoming annoyed with me.

  “I knew, the more I opened up and talked, what the potential of this conversation would be. We are very different people, but we have a natural curiosity about one another. On one hand, you are very serious—rigid almost. On the other hand, you want to know more about everything and everyone. You do believe that our existence is bigger than what we see. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t even be lying here getting your mother on your arm. You have questions…we both have questions. And for the record, just so you know…” He laughed. “I don’t get high, Milan.” He didn’t give her the chance to respond, to defend herself.

  “I don’t smoke anything, though I’m not against those that smoke for healing. I do chew on the end of lit incense from time to time… I am into taking care of my body. I don’t eat meat; I’m a vegetarian. I exercise. I meditate. I run for relaxation, too. I like being physically active, especially since I’m required to sit so much for my job. It’s a way to get my negative energy out, to get balanced. I also enjoy reading.”

  Milan buried her chin into the headrest and sighed.

  “What do you like to read?” she asked. The man intrigued the fuck out of her. Resistance was futile.

  “All sorts of things, especially non-fiction, like books on metaphysics, natural cures, sensuality, art, design, astrology, health. I’ll read almost anything though. I believe that we can learn from just about anything we see. It’s just a matter of having a good filter, and finding the gold even in something that appears to be worthless.”

  Sensuality…

  “Tell me a little more about yourself, Milan.” He moved his chair away, extended his arm. The needle became tight as he went into detail along his artistry.

  “Well, I do work a stressful job, but it wasn’t always that way. It seems that when one thing goes wrong, everything follows.” She didn’t give a shit anymore. The man gave her a platform to purge. They’d already had their first argument like an old married couple; the ice had been broken. She lay half-naked, he was jabbing her, and they’d discussed everything from God to getting high. So she tossed her pride aside and cut loose. “I used to love my job, and then they promoted this bastard who can’t handle having a little power. He used to be just a co-worker, but now, he is the guy I have to report directly to. I can’t even bring myself to call him my manager and what really burns me up is, he is not qualified! Now, the guy above him, Garrett, is a really good person and I’ve been debating reporting his
butt to him, but that could start all sorts of trouble.”

  Milan shook her head and realized at that moment that Julian had been right. People did treat him like a bartender. Just like that she’d rolled out her woes, pushed the bastard face first down a hill, and lest she admit it, it felt good, almost healing.

  “Go on,” he encouraged as he kept his hand steady, the needle moving about her stretched skin just so.

  “Well, they are friends and though I know you may not agree with this, I’ve seen it too many times—white men will protect other white men, even if they like the person from the minority group that is complaining on an issue. No matter how much Garrett enjoys me as a person and thinks my work is good, he could take Martin’s side and then things could potentially get even worse for me.”

  “You don’t have an argument from me there. I will say this however: it’s not only the white race that does that. Race is a made-up paradigm anyway, but there isn’t any need to get into all of that right now. Anyway, yeah, people with physical similarities tend to cling to one another. We evolve when we understand that we are not races at all in the first damn place. We are just people, with different cultures.”

  This man truly surprised her.

  “We tend to gravitate towards people we perceive as similar to us, and we will protect those people, based on that likeness. The key is to realize that just because someone appears similar to you, it doesn’t mean they have your best interest at heart.” And with that, he swiped at her flesh with another moistened cotton ball, and continued along his way.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, your manager and the big boss are both white men, right? They like each other, they have their sex, gender and racial identification in common. They may like similar teams regarding sports and have similar political and religious views. Find out what your boss likes, the manager, find something in common, and see if you can talk about that with him. People don’t naturally gravitate towards differences, oddities or strange situations unless they have that sort of personality. I am one of those peculiar people that do.” He grinned really wide now, showcasing that gorgeous, sexy grin of his.

  “But I know, most people aren’t like me.” He shrugged. “So, what you have to do is get on this guy’s level, to see if he’d ease off you then. The more we have in common with someone, the more we see ourselves in them, and since we don’t want to hurt ourselves, we tend to make things easier for people we think are like us. He sees no commonalities between the two of you right now. Once he does, he may be swayed to change.”

  This man actually makes sense!

  “We do things for them, help them out. That’s what you want to try to do. It is hard for a woman to do this with a man though, because in a professional environment it can be misconstrued as flirting, so be careful. Now, if that doesn’t work, you’ll want to tell the head guy what the hell has been going on. You already have a good rapport with him.”

  “Why not just go to him now?”

  “Because you’ll be filing a complaint, a report. You first want to fix your current situation.” The buzzing seemed to get softer as he spoke, as if the entire place knew he was speaking important stuff. “You want to stop the troubled waters, if you will, the hemorrhaging.” He ran his forearm over his nose, then continued. “This accomplishes something really important. It shows that you tried to get along with your manager before you made a complaint. It would demonstrate that you attempted to work with him directly, to fix the issue before running to a higher-up.”

  “You’re a damn genius.” She cackled, causing him to do the same.

  “Hmmm, thanks.”

  “I’m going to do that. I’m going to try it.”

  He nodded. “Good, and I hope you are successful. It’s important to enjoy your job as much as possible.”

  “I take it you love your job?”

  “Eh.” He paused and shrugged his shoulders, his face in a slight grimace. “Yes, for the most part. I love aspects of it. I am struggling with the business part, quite honestly. I’m good with numbers, I’m great with people, my customers, but times are changing and I’m having trouble keeping up with inventory, ’nd shit like that.”

  “There are all sorts of really user-friendly computer systems, software, you know?” She paused, wished to help. “You can just put all of your inventory in, and then—”

  “That’s the thing, I haven’t found the time. I’ll deal with it later. I have more pressing matters to tend to.” He brushed her off, hesitating to discuss it any further.

  “The salon is beautiful, by the way,” she offered.

  “Thank you. I had some remodeling done to attract more customers. Well, they came alright, and we were already pretty busy but I wanted to meet one of my goals.”

  “Which was?”

  “I wanted to have this building paid off fast, and I managed to accomplish that not too long ago, actually. I rent out two rooms upstairs to responsible students. I save the rent money and put it towards any repairs that may pop up. The other efficiency I keep as my personal art studio. I basically just store a lot of my paintings in there and in the last one I keep additional supplies for the herb store and salon, and allow some of the artists to train apprentices in. I own two properties now—my own house and this building—and even though it can be a bit stressful at times, a huge burden is off my shoulders. All my school loans are paid off. I have freedom, finally.”

  “That is wonderful.” Milan was duly impressed. “School loans? Where did you attend school?”

  “Franklin College of Arts and Sciences. I have a Bachelors of Art and Humanities. I studied fine art, design, things like that.”

  “Good for you!”

  “Also, there is a tattoo apprenticeship scholarship I started. One student wins a yearlong apprenticeship with any of the local artists that sign up for it. It’s a great opportunity. Part of the prize is they get money, as well as a party once they graduate, and they can choose which artist they want to go under as long as that artist doesn’t currently have an apprentice. So far, I’ve got fifty-three local artists signed up and hope to get more.”

  Now you’re talking…

  “See? That’s what I am talking about. You’ve been blessed and you’re giving back, paying it forward. That is how it should work. Reciprocity…I love it.”

  “It’s important to give back to yourself, too…kinda like what you’re doing right now.”

  The mood shifted to something heavy, something soaked in shed tears and a throbbing heartache buried under blood-soaked cotton.

  “You can’t see this from my vantage point yet, but it is turning out really nice.” His lips curved as he eyed his handiwork with satisfaction.

  “I’m sure it is. I can’t wait to see it.” Her eyes moistened. She quickly shut them as the opera music continued to play, and a silence filled the room.

  “You don’t have to close your eyes if you don’t want,” he offered in a soft tone. She slowly opened them and looked at him through the mirror.

  “If you want to cry, you can. Tears are healing. Each tear has a specific reason, a meaning. They help with the abolition of emotional, mental and spiritual poisons. Unfortunately, we tend to keep pain derived from mourning in our bodies, in our gut.”

  …And his words hit her in her core.

  “That pain causes problems with our sleeping, self-awareness, digestion, emotional well-being, and self-esteem. We may have a skewed vision of the world as we fall onto the lap of negativity. We may lose meaningful friendships, not because they left us in our time of need, but because we’ve changed… we’ve become anti-climactic with our behavior, soul suckers. We don’t mean to be, but our soul is needy, and we don’t like that…”

  Keep talking to me, baby…

  She blinked to chase away the tears she still was too ashamed to let him see again just yet…

  “The tears help cleanse that and whenever we try to block them from falling, we keep a bit more of that ha
rdness inside of us. It’s like needing to sneeze, but delaying it. We are keeping the allergens in, when we need to let them go. We allow the grief to turn into a monster, and eat us from the inside out. So…I want you to cry, if that’s what you need… Keep your eyes open; they are trying to help you see the truth…”

  All she could do was sniff and tell herself to ignore this man’s advice. To fight it, for all she was worth. But, he just wouldn’t let her heart go… He kept squeezing and squeezing, until she’d have to relinquish herself. This was what she feared the most for she couldn’t hold back much longer.

  “Tattoos, if done for the right reasons, are a transcendent experience. Just like sex, just like taking care of your health, nurturing yourself…”

  Something rather odd started happening. The man’s voice was soothing her again, even more than before, right in time with the music, as if he were delivering spoken word. It was one of the strangest and most beautiful things she’d ever experienced. So, she gave herself permission to follow his train of thought, to kick her internal battle to the curb and cling tight to his suggestion…and the tears flowed. Quiet and slow, they fell. She smiled through it all, but they kept coming, sliding over her cheeks, down to the towel that soaked them up. He continued on working, a peaceful expression on his handsome face as if he, too, were somehow released from bondage due to her free-flowing expression of immense grief. Without missing a beat, he handed her a tissue, then went right back to work, as if nothing were happening.

  I want to know more about you, Julian…a whole lot more.

  What an incredible man, an odd man, a wise man, beyond his years. Responsible, caring and smart. A bit of a smart ass at times, but that was a small price to pay for all of his other wonderful qualities. She’d never encountered a man like him in all of her life.