Summer Shifter Nights

by Harmony Raines

Carly seems preoccupied and puts her wrist in front of Ray’s face to ask, “You really don’t see anything?”

  “No, Carly.” He shakes his head and returns to his workspace.

  She turns to me with a frown.

  I say, “I know, right? That just adds to the freakiness.” Carly’s a diamond in the rough. Sexy curves she hasn’t learned to love are usually hidden under dumpy clothes. But today it looks like she made a bit of an effort. I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “You look pretty.”

  “Thanks. You look amazing as usual.”

  I smooth out my vintage dress that pumps up my real boobs. “Trying to land a man.” I sigh. “It’s been a while.”

  “I hear you.” She moves into her room, and the metal drawer clangs as she opens it to set up for her first client.

  I walk over to the doorway. “Carly?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I hate to ask, but—”

  “You want one too, don’t you?” She knows. Maybe she does have the same dream.

  I tap a red fingernail on the desktop because this isn’t like the other tattoos I’ve gotten. “More than want, I think I need it.”

  Carly nods. “I think you do too.” She grins at me, because I have two full sleeves and there is no room for more on my arms. “But where?”

  The answer comes to me as if I’ve known it all along. At the same time, we both say, “Boob.” It makes me wonder if she dreams about teeth biting her breast too. We both grin, and I hear the door open with a customer.

  Carly says, “Later.” And I go out to greet her client.

  At the end of our shift, I return to Carly’s room to disassemble her machine. She had me assist and fill in her outlines tonight. After all this time I thought I would be thrilled to take the next step toward my art. But it felt flat, and I wonder why.

  Carly asks, “Do you have plans tonight?”

  “I might go down to Ruby’s for a drink. Want to come?”

  She smiles slowly. “Maybe, but I could do your tattoo now if you want.”

  Excitement pulses through me. “Yes, please.”

  She pats the client chair. “Have a seat.”

  The smell of cigarettes and other smokables greet us as we approach Ruby’s. A typical dive, the drinks are cheap, and Ruby works behind the bar most nights. When she sees us walk through the door, she waves. I come here often, but Carly hasn’t been out since her breakup with Ray.

  Ruby’s deep scratchy voice says, “Carly, it’s been a dog’s age. Get yourself over here.”

  Carly quickly slides onto a well-worn stool as I saunter slowly over, making sure every man in the place can see the swing of my hips exaggerated by the swish of my skirt. I plan to get laid tonight and know just how to make it happen.

  “What’ll it be girls?”

  I answer, “Martinis, with tequila.”

  Ruby nods, and ice clatters into a tumbler she clunks down on the bar. I twirl my ass around to face the pool tables. Booths line the walls, and the odor of fried food makes my stomach grumble. I cross my legs to flash some thigh and bounce a foot as I check out the patrons.

  Carly asks, “Ruby, can I get an order of nachos please?” The idea of gooey cheese is tempting, especially since the men in this place aren’t.

  Ruby says, “You got it.” The clink of two martini glasses hitting the wood bar makes me turn back around. They’re filled to the brim, and because Ruby always makes us extra, we both slurp down our drinks to make room for her to pour the remains.

  Ruby winks at me. “See anything you like?”

  “Not tonight. I think I’ll eat nachos too. Make them a large, please.”

  “Done.” Ruby turns to the computer screen to enter the order.

  I drum my nails along the base of my glass, and the tinkling sound is pleasant. A yawn escapes, and I blink my eyes in an effort to wake up.

  Carly says, “You did well tonight. I think you’re ready to start taking clients.”

  My pride puffs up a bit, but I think she has an ulterior motive. “Thanks. But I get the feeling you’re trying to tell me something. You were working awfully hard to make sure your regulars like me.” I take a big swig of my sugary lime-laced drink and let the Patron warm its way down my throat.

  “Yeah, I’m thinking about leaving.”

  “Why? I thought you loved tattooing?” I tap my hand lightly to the beat of the music. I’m antsy about her leaving because I’ve been feeling the same way. I think my days working for a snake like Ray are numbered.

  “I meant moving kind of leave.” The look on her face says she’s more than thinking about it.

  “Oh.” I grip her hand and flip it over to reveal her tattoo. I trace the area around the design, and she trembles, making me stop. “It’s calling you, isn’t it?”

  Carly pulls her arm away. She frowns as she glances down at it. “I don’t know. I just have this need to move.”

  “To the mountains, right?” Carly’s eyes widen in recognition at my words. They’re blue and stormy looking tonight.

  “Yes.” She shakes her head. “This is insane. I’ve always lived here. Do you think I’m crazy?”

  “No.” Because I want to go too.

  Ruby announces, “Food.” A big plate heaped with tortilla chips, meat, and veggies thumps before us. “Need another drink?”

  Carly snitches a black olive and says, “Yes, please.”

  A sudden thought occurs to me, and I grab Carly’s wrist. “Ruby, what do you see here?”

  Ruby leans close and flips her glasses down off her head onto her nose. “Nothing, should I?”

  Carly yanks her hand away and says, “Nope, Sierra’s just trying to make a point. Don’t mind us.”

  She glares at me until Ruby walks away and says, “We’re the only ones that can see it.”

  “I think it’s a gift.”

  “Stuff like that doesn’t happen to me.”

  I bite into salty beef and pepper jack cheese. Her words make me sad and wish I could make her see how awesome she is. I speak over a mouthful of food. “Something already did.”

  I lose Carly for a moment as she traces the tribal swirls of her paw print. She takes a big swig of her drink and empties her glass. “Ruby, I need another, please.”

  She’s freaked out. I sigh. “You can get as drunk as you want, but it’s not going to change what’s happened. We’ve been chosen, Carly.” I glance into the mirror behind the bar and notice it’s too dark to see myself.

  5

  Chapter 5

  Carly

  The need to pee is greater than the desire to keep my head absolutely still, and I stumble without light to the bathroom. Those tequila martinis didn’t solve my problem, although I had fun. I’m not sure how many I drank, but a vague recollection of flirting with some guy and then telling him I was into bears plays in my head. Oh, sweet Jesus. I cringe in embarrassment. While I’m sure he didn’t believe me, I hope I never see him again.

  Water rushes too loudly down the toilet when I flush. The last thing I remember is Sierra helping me out of my clothes and telling me there was a bowl by my bed in case I needed to puke. Right now I wish I had as my stomach churns.

  Thankful for my nightlight, I search the medicine cabinet for ibuprofen. I pinch the cap open and drop four tablets into my hand. I shove them in my mouth, and the gel coating sticks to my tongue. I guzzle metallic-flavored water out of the tap to swallow them down.

  My mouth tastes like the bottom of a birdcage, and I guess I didn’t brush my teeth. Opening the toothpaste tube sends the scent of mint to my nose, and my stomach revolts. I drop to my knees with a clunk that should hurt but I’m more concerned about the contents of my stomach rushing out. So much for medicating my headache.

  The tile floor is cool under my bare legs when I stretch them out to lean against the wall. While my stomach is quivering, I think I’m done vomiting. Sure I need water if I’m going to make it through the night, I stand to walk to the kitchen, although the urge
to crawl is tempting.

  The light of the refrigerator temporarily blinds me when I reach in for the filtered water pitcher. Liquid gurgles into a glass as I pour, and I sip cautiously. The cold, clean taste soothes my parched throat. As much as I want to guzzle it down, I know better and shuffle to my couch with the cup.

  I gently lay my head down on a throw pillow and close my eyes, willing my headache to subside. It doesn’t take long to doze off.

  A mountain stream trickles, and it sounds like thunder. A woodpecker hammers against a tree as if someone turned up the volume. Leaves rustle under my feet. The acrid musk of something attracts me. I know it’s a disgusting smell, but like the odor of gasoline, I’m strangely drawn to it. It gets stronger as I approach a rock the size of a shed. My heart beats against my chest. The aroma overpowers me. What I want is behind the boulder, but I’m afraid to find it. I stop abruptly, and something bumps into me. Something big. Ice flows through my veins as I imagine long, sharp teeth, and I turn toward it.

  I bolt upright on the couch, panting. The gentle breeze of the ceiling fan chills my damp skin. My head is throbbing with pain. Sipping water, I wonder if I can stomach a little food to buffer some aspirin.

  I go to the kitchen for crackers and notice my phone is lit up on the counter with a text. Sierra messaged me moments ago. Another comes in.

  “I’m cming w/u”

  I scroll down to read the previous text.

  “FML, dreamt about fking a bear”

  Thank God. I’m relieved because I don’t want to do this alone, and Sierra is my best friend. I pull a box of saltines down from the cabinet. Nibbling on one, I eat slowly to determine my stomach’s reaction. I still feel okay, so I let my mind wander. If Sierra comes with me, we can leave sooner. Splitting the cost of gas and a place to live will help out with finances. I have a hefty savings account in place after the last time I left Tattoo Junkie knowing I might do it again.

  A couple crackers in, I’m brave enough to try something for my headache. I text Sierra.

  “Coffee?”

  I snort, thinking maybe I’ll get a bear claw.

  “BRT”

  The pink light of dawn filters in through the window. Sierra must be pretty freaked out if she’s awake and on her way over. Knowing how she’ll drive me crazy with her fidgeting, I’m going to suggest a walk on the beach while we talk. I’m in my room changing when Sierra knocks.

  “Coming!” My headache is still in full force, and I wince.

  Sierra breezes in when I open the door. “You look like hell.”

  “Feel like it too. You were supposed to stop me.”

  Plopping down on the couch with a poof she says, “I tried, but you wouldn’t have anything to do with it. You were flirting with some guy who kept buying your drinks. Until you said something that made him drop you like a hot potato.”

  I close my eyes as a flush creeps over my cheeks as I recall the look of horror on his face. I fall into a chair across from her. “I told him I was into bears.”

  Sierra chuckles. “That would do it.” She sobers. “Does that mean you dream about screwing them too?”

  “Kind of. I’m all worked up over a guy, but a bear is in the dream too.”

  Sierra taps a fingernail against her bottom lip. “It’s a message.” She rubs the tattoo on her breast. “This was pulsing like a second clit or something. My guy that was suddenly a bear licked it, and I think I might have come in my dream.”

  “Yes, and—” My face heats up again. “Um, does it feel good when you touch it?”

  Sierra’s eyes widen, and she nods. Her leg is jiggling.

  “Let me grab my sneakers and let’s go.”

  A half hour later an ocean breeze is blowing my hair into my face, and gritty sand is exfoliating my feet. Headache gone, I’m reveling in the sweet fried flavor of a doughnut which seems to taste better than usual.

  Sierra swallows down a bite of her cinnamon roll. “So what’s your plan?”

  “I feel like I’m supposed to move to the mountains, so I think I’ll drive to the Rockies and check out tattoo shops in the Vail area. I’d love for you to come with me.”

  A wave swims around Sierra’s feet, and her steps splash cold March water on my legs. She says, “I think we’re supposed to go to the mountains too. The Rockies sound like a good place to start.”

  “I have about three months’ worth of money saved. You?” I sip my coffee, and its bitter flavor chases the sweetness out of my mouth.

  “Not that much, but if we take your car I can sell mine.”

  “That works.” Since my father died I don’t have any family to speak of. I know Sierra isn’t close to her mom, but I wonder what she might be leaving behind. “Do you think you can be ready to go in a couple weeks?”

  She stops walking, and I turn to her widened eyes. She asks, “Can’t we go sooner? Something’s telling me it needs to be now, you know?”

  I do. “Okay, I guess we’re quitting today.” A smile forms on my face.

  “I guess we are.” Sierra breaks into a huge grin. “And you know what? I’m looking forward to Ray’s reaction. That guy’s such an asshat.”

  Satisfaction floods my mind. I chuckle back. “Me too.”

  6

  Chapter 6

  Carly

  Day two of our drive, and I’m even more exhausted than before we left. My dreams are so intense I’m beginning to feel as if they’re real. I even thought I saw my dream guy at the last rest stop.

  I now know more about Sierra than anyone should. She probably thinks the same about me. Both of us were raised as an only child, and our stories are quite similar. I grew up without a mom, and she didn’t have a dad. I’m beginning to love her like a sister.

  Sierra’s soft snoring is keeping time with the broken white lines blinking by as I cruise down I-70. As if a magnet is pulling us, our direction feels right, and the tug is stronger the closer we get. Still no clue about our purpose, the unknown is a mix of excitement and fear for me.

  A glance at the dash, which tells me we need to stop for gas soon. When we do I’ll Google where to stay tonight. Determined to make the most of my looks, Sierra is in the process of giving me a makeover. I twirl a burgundy red strand of hair around my finger and catch the color in my peripheral vision. Even though I never imagined myself with this shade, my tresses do make my blue eyes look more vibrant.

  Just over the Colorado border a rest area is a few miles ahead, and I decide that’s where I’ll stop. Sierra wakes when I pull off the interstate. Stretching her arms above her head, she says, “Are we in Colorado yet?”

  “We are. Ready to drive?” I yawn and cut the engine when we’re by the pumps. The odor of gasoline pricks my memory, and I recall the pungent musk of my dream. I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

  “Sure, it’s my turn to fill up.” She gets out and pulls a debit card from her back pocket.

  Chilly air blows around us, and I shove my hands in my pockets. “I’m going to go pee. Want anything?” I’m craving something salty and a cola.

  “Naw, I’ll come in when I’m done.”

  The crisp air is light, and the sensation of my lungs not filling is strange. I know altitude means less oxygen, and I hope it won’t be a problem when we climb a few more thousand feet to get to ski towns.

  Metal racks by the convenience-store entry catch my eye when I yank the heavy door to get inside. Colorful real-estate brochures and ski maps make me stop, and I grab a few to peruse later. Only a few hours away from Vail, we need to make a decision.

  Armed with slush drinks and chips after our stop, we drive back to the interstate. A map is slick in my fingers and rustles as I open it up. I ask, “Any ideas on what town we should pick?”

  “I had another dream.” She sends me a sideways glance. “I’m not so sure Colorado is where we need to be. The forest I was in makes me think of my childhood in New England.”

  My stomach sinks, and the icy liquid I just swallowed stic
ks in my throat. “How do you know? Aren’t forests mostly the same?”

  She sighs. “Not really, but it’s more than how the woods appear. It’s in my gut. I just know.”

  I can’t argue with that. Something about this area seems off to me too. “Okay. I guess we keep going.”

  “Let’s make sure. Why don’t we stay somewhere around Grand Junction tonight and check out Vail tomorrow. If it still feels wrong, we keep going.” Sierra is focused on the road, but by the way she’s chewing her lip, I think she’s as unsure as I am about what we’re doing. With two days to second-guess ourselves, doubt is blossoming in our minds.

  I say, “Hey, we’ll figure it out. If not, I’ll just cover our tattoos with something big, bold, and colorful.”

  She smiles. But we won’t go crawling back to Venice Beach. Ray called us every name he could think of and promised to ruin any chance of a job in the entire state of California. Knowing the tattoo world is full of sexist men, the possibility exists.

  I chew my lip, thinking about being homeless with everything I own sharing the space of my tiny Subaru with Sierra’s belongings. I glance out the window but don’t see the breathtaking view that’s surely there. What on earth are we doing?

  We arrive in Grand Junction and search for a diner. On the outskirts of town we find one that appears to fit our needs, especially since we passed a motel on the way. Shiny metal flashes the late-day sun in our eyes as we approach the diner’s entrance. A bell announces our arrival, and Sierra leads us to a booth on the edge. “I love to watch people. This place should be interesting.” She winks at me and pulls a menu out from behind the napkin holder.

  I grab one too, and the plastic is smooth and clean in my hands. Noticing the shine of the tabletop, I smile because the diner passes my sanitary guidelines. I clunk my elbows down and search for a tuna melt. Finding it, I don’t need to look any further and put my menu away.

  A waitress with long dark hair and tan skin that makes me think she is Native American arrives with two plastic tumblers full of water and napkin-rolled silverware. “Coffee tonight?”

  Sierra answers, “No thanks, but we’re ready to order.”