We Awaken

by Calista Lynne

  It was funny. I almost wanted to call Ellie. Tell her how it had finally happened: my first heartbreak. We could throw a party to mark my entrance into womanhood. Not that she counted what Ashlinn and I had as a proper relationship anyway. Avoiding that phone call was probably for the best, although she was much more well versed in matters of love than I could ever dream of being.

  From my prison of sheets, I began wondering what day it even was. Monday? How long had she even been here? I thought back to the nights we had spent together and came to a numbing realization.

  Mother!

  I was running out of time to clean everything up. How the hell did I forget my mother would be coming back? Was today really the day? I counted off the nights in my bed. One, two, shit. Today was the day.

  The collapsed blanket fort was weirdly comfortable, the closest thing I had to Ashlinn, but not putting the sheets and pillows back would lead to questions. My mentality was slowly improving, but even the most stoic person wouldn’t be able to weather a cross-examination about this. Best to get rid of the evidence.

  With the occasional break when my tears returned full force for a few minutes, I did away with the remnants of the fort and the scattered popcorn, as well as tidied the pots in the sink. The last two days might as well have been as imaginary as my dreams of her. Only the sundress knew the truth. That got folded without washing and stuck in the corner of my sock drawer. To Mother it would appear that the world was unchanged, that very little happened to me, just like last month and the one before that.

  The thought of having to make small talk in an hour or so wasn’t palatable. How could I fake some neutrality and talk about the weather after having finally understood why people were so crazy in their search for love? I wasn’t even angry or pained anymore. It all just boiled down to the fact that I missed Ashlinn. People couldn’t possibly get over things like this.

  And so I sat on the couch and turned on the television in an attempt to appear as I usually would, only to find the Singin’ in the Rain menu was still filling the screen. Without thinking, I hit Play, and once again the tears came, although they were courteous enough to hold out until after the opening number.

  They were unobtrusive and only increased in quantity and not violence with every scene that passed. Mother returned before “If You,” a fact for which I will never be grateful enough, and didn’t even question the crying. It wasn’t the first time she had found me in such a state, and she undoubtedly assumed I was upset about “missing” my auditions. Guilty much?

  I suspected she never knew what to do, but her reaction wasn’t bad. She sat down next to me and leaned my head against her chest where I cried softly until there was nothing left but heavy air and a dizzying amount of lonely tomorrows. When I looked up, the television was black.

  That was a clockwork day. Emotionlessly, I floated through the house trying to appear normal while willing the night to come more quickly. That was my only chance. With day clothes on my body and freshly brushed teeth, I looked like a passable human. Now I just needed someone to appreciate it. What was Ashlinn doing at that moment? She could have been building castles in the minds of kindergarteners or reliving past loves with some old man in a nursing home. She was creating wonders while I pitied myself in my room. Maybe she was better off alone. Not that she’d ever actually be alone; she had Reeves.

  The carnation was beyond dried up where it sat on my bedside table, and I feared it would crumble if I so much as breathed on the thing. I could always retrieve the dress to reminisce with, but that just seemed a bit too piney for my tastes. Instead, I lay on the floor, ignoring my bed, and stared at the ceiling. If I were a boy from some coming-of-age movie, I’d be tossing a baseball up and down endlessly. There were so many things to worry about—the results of my audition and Mother’s mental state, to name just two—but the only cares flittering through my mind revolved around Ashlinn.

  This could have gone on for who knows how long, but while in this pathetic horizontal state, my cell phone rang. And rang. It couldn’t possibly have been anything important—there were no phones wherever Ashlinn was—but it just wouldn’t stop. Probably some telemarketer.

  With a groan, I sat up and flung my hand on the bedside table until I found the vibrating menace. Written across the screen in big white letters was Ellie.

  Back into the fray.

  “What?” I asked after picking up, my tone harsher than I’d like to admit.

  “Whoa there, grumpster. Sorry if this is coitus interruptus or something. Jeez, I was just wondering if you and Ashlinn still wanted to be my cheering squad for the tattoo tomorrow.”

  Another thing I’d forgotten about. Great.

  “Ashlinn isn’t here anymore,” I choked out the words like they were blocking my air.

  “Where is she, then? In case you’ve already forgotten, I do have a car. We can pick her up.”

  “No, I mean she’s gone away for good. I don’t think I’m ever going to see her again.”

  “Oh no, hon. I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about it? I can come over there right now, watch me. And I’ll bring ice cream. That bitch.”

  “Please don’t say that. I’m fine. It’s not her fault. I don’t like ice cream. Really, I’m okay.”

  The last thing I needed was for her to come over and begin grilling me for the details. I could just imagine the scenario: Where did she go? Ellie would ask.

  Oh, I don’t know. Just some sort of nether spheric layer of the universe where people walk through the minds of others and anything can be created from nothing. No big deal.

  Ellie didn’t seem like she believed a word of my excuse.

  “Mhm. Well, you’re not getting out of coming with me tomorrow in that case.”

  “But—”

  “Nope. Don’t even try it. You’ve seen the number of breakups I’ve dealt with. The best thing for you is to get out and watch your dearest friend Ellie make an astonishingly stupid decision that will most likely involve a lot of pain. Trust me. I’ll pick you up at one tomorrow.”

  And with that she hung up. It looked like I wouldn’t be stuck to my floor for the rest of eternity after all.

  Fifteen

  THAT NIGHT I fell asleep and woke up eight hours later. And nothing happened. There were no dreams of any sort, no nightmares or false awakenings. Just an empty spot in my memory. Ashlinn truly was gone.

  I didn’t tell Mother my plans for the day, not sure whether or not she’d agree with them. Even if she did, there was always a risk of her telling Ellie’s parents for some obscure reason, and they had no idea this was even happening. She left for work at a much closer location than the previous week.

  The morning was a blur of attempts at distracting myself, most of which only led to more thoughts of Ashlinn in a roundabout sort of way. I braided garden flowers into my hair as something to do, carefully weaving them through the strands. Looking beautiful on the outside might improve matters on the inside.

  Ellie rolled up at one o’clock exactly, and I could have applauded her astuteness. She called to tell me of her arrival, blaming laziness for not bothering to come ring my doorbell, and spent the entire ride there talking excitedly of her plans for the tattoo and not once bringing up Ashlinn. I didn’t give this girl nearly enough credit sometimes. Anyway, she told me how it was designed by a supercool guy named Ray with an amazingly impressive portfolio I really must look at when we got there.

  Her appointment was at the only tattoo parlor in a twenty-mile radius. It was in a strip mall with a red brick storefront that added to its already intimidating appearance. She parked the car in the farthest spot possible, still not sure of her driving skills, and we headed toward the door.

  “Aren’t you frightened?” I asked. I wasn’t even getting the tattoo and I was scared.

  “Terrified,” she responded with a laugh, “so let’s get it over with.”

  A bell jangled when we walked in and a heavily pierced lady with black tied-up hair loo
ked up from behind the counter. There were chairs on either side of the door and one was occupied by a bearded man who looked as if he might live in the place.

  “Hello,” Ellie said cheerily to the receptionist. “I have an appointment with Ray.”

  “ID.”

  The woman didn’t even look up when she asked, and Ellie began rummaging through her bag with a weak smile, already getting flustered. When she finally dragged out her license, the receptionist took it and seemed to trust the validity, then held the plastic card back between two fingers.

  “Go take a seat; he’ll be with you in a sec. Here, fill out this paperwork while you’re at it.” She handed over a purple clipboard with a release form and a pen.

  We went to the side of the room opposite the other customer, and I occupied myself by staring at the framed tattoo designs that adorned the walls. There were some pictures of generic lions and hearts, but also a few portraying swirls and pyramidal geometric shapes. I glanced over at what Ellie was busily filling out. She was answering questions about her age and any drugs she might be on, as well as consent to get the tattoo done at all. She warily marked off a box absolving the studio of any liability.

  Impressively, her hands didn’t seem to be shaking as she filled it out in bubbly penmanship. Mine would have been registering on the Richter scale in such a situation. She returned the forms to the woman, where they had a discussion ending with Ellie handing over fifty dollars. She made a big show of asking for the receipt, that being something she’d read online as a very important thing to do. Ellie took her seat yet again, fidgeting for a few moments before picking up a magazine to flip through. The waiting was making her increasingly tense. Finally she closed the magazine angrily in her lap then turned to me and stage-whispered, “Where’s Ashlinn?”

  I sputtered. “Do you really want to discuss this now? You’re about to get a tattoo, dammit.”

  Our voices were much too loud for this conversation to be secret, but I tried to keep it down as much as possible.

  “I’ve been really good about waiting this long, and I’m going to ask you eventually. It’s either now or when I’m in the middle of having needles shoved in my skin.”

  “Or we can talk about it later. When we’re done.”

  When I’ve thought of an excuse to avoid the conversation.

  “Oh, Victoria,” she said softly, “have you wanted to hang out recently? It’s now or never. I was starting to like that girl. Where the hell is she and how can I help you get her back?”

  “You can’t help me. I’m sorry. Something terrible happened, and she had to go away. That’s it.”

  My eyes were going glassy, so I kept them open as long as I could manage, staring at the floor and refusing to cry again. Ellie looked as if she was about to start pushing for information, but thankfully Ray emerged from the back just in time and interrupted us with a loose handshake and a grin.

  “Good to see you again. Excited to get that devilish tattoo?”

  And with that her mind found a new focus. “You know it. And I brought along moral support. Care to show her the design?”

  “No problem. Come this way.”

  He beckoned us around a corner to a table where he pulled out a manila folder with the drawing inside. He proffered it to me.

  “Whaddaya think?”

  It was undoubtedly a devil, small but unmistakable, with two large ridges for horns and a spiked tail that made way for hoofed legs. The entire thing was one continuous black line, very simple and without color.

  “Wow. It’s something,” I told him, handing back the artwork.

  “It’s perfect,” Ellie breathed, and he smiled at the praise.

  “I do try. This’ll take no time at all. We can get started right away.”

  She looked nervous, and I could see her fingering the receipt in her pocket. I reached over and took her free hand, which seemed to shock the girl out of her fearful trance.

  “Let’s leave or let’s do it. It’s up to you.”

  She grabbed my hand tighter and looked up at Ray. “Let’s do it.”

  “Great. We’re going to do this in a private room considering it’s your first time and you want it on a marginally private place. Your thigh, correct?”

  She nodded, and he got up to cross the floor, which had benches and stations for those who didn’t mind getting inked up in public view, and opened a black door on the other side. The area it led to had one padded bench that reminded me of the cots we used to have in the nurse’s office at school. He gestured for Ellie to lie down on her front as I took a seat next to her.

  “I’m going to push your shorts up a bit so I can get at where you want it, and then I’ll shave that area and clean it with rubbing alcohol, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I liked him; he was talking her through every step of the process and his eyes never wandered. On the other hand, her eyes were closed the entire time Ray spent cleansing her thigh and shaving it with a disposable razor. After the shaving he cleaned it another time. I was probably the most uncomfortable out of the bunch, not knowing where to look. He continued the rundown.

  “Now I’m going to put a transfer of the design on your skin. You’ll be able to look in a mirror and see how pretty your tattoo is going to be and make sure you haven’t made a rotten decision.”

  The transfer was like a temporary tattoo for grown-ups. He applied water first, then the image, and when the paper was removed a blueish-black outline of the Jersey Devil was left on her flesh. She climbed off the cot and contorted herself in front of a full-length mirror hanging on the door. Her elation upon seeing the image made it seem like she had never been frightened to begin with.

  “This is so sick,” she said optimistically to her reflection, and Ray and I were both quick to agree. While she appreciated the design that would soon be a permanent part of her, Ray began preparing the tattoo machine. He placed black ink in caps and inserted the appropriate needles, looking completely confident with the gun.

  She lay down yet again and held out her hand for me to take, so I cradled it between my palms as he applied ointment to her thigh.

  “I’m about to begin. After the first minute or two you’ll get used to it, and it will hurt less. Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

  “Of course. Get on with it.”

  He shrugged and began. When the needle first stroked her skin, she gasped and her fingers clenched against mine. I prayed that her thigh would stay still because the last thing anyone needs is a shaky tattoo or a long line permanently going across her leg.

  “Say something distracting,” she demanded tensely.

  I panicked, and suddenly every anecdote or bad joke I could possibly tell vanished from my memory.

  “Ummm…,” I went, stalling for time as her hand held tightly to mine, “do you remember that time we broke into the old theater?”

  She grunted in affirmation, so I decided this was a good topic to continue with.

  “Daffodils were growing between the floorboards and there was all that mold. It smelled like absolute death, and the only beautiful things were the daffodils. We were what, in the fifth grade? And you said one of the most profound things.”

  “What was that?” she asked, beginning to ease up a bit.

  “You told me how you hate daffodils because they’re morbid. They stick around for a month making everything lemon-drop yellow, then die and get replaced by worse flowers. How the hell does an elementary schooler grasp the concept of beauty not being permanent? I remember being impressed. We were fearless that day.”

  “Wish I could be fearless now.”

  Ray interrupted to say that he was finished with about a quarter already so there wouldn’t be too much left to endure. For a few minutes, the only sound in the room was the tattoo gun’s mechanical stutter, but that was soon broken by Ellie, who was still in need of distraction.

  “I’m going to ask you again, Victoria. Where is Ashlinn?”

  “Now
here we can visit. Not even The Hovercraft could take us.”

  “Have pity on me, girl. I’m weak and having needles shoved into my thigh. You’re totally evading the question. You know, it’s funny, I actually had a dream about your MIA girlfriend last night.”

  What?

  At that I perked up, excited if not a bit jealous. Hopefully Ellie was too distracted to notice my desperation.

  “What did you dream about?” I asked, squeezing the hand that had started to relax between mine.

  “It was nothing. I think we were up in a tree, one that was covered in cherry blossoms. We were talking about you, actually, if I remember correctly. All good things. Who cares, though? It’s always excruciating to hear other people’s dreams. Although not as excruciating as having needles poked in your skin.”

  She shouted the last sentence over her shoulder at Ray, but he took it in stride and laughed.

  “You chose to do this. We’re almost done.”

  I desperately wanted to ask her to explain the dream more, to give details, and force her to remember everything. Did Ashlinn look like rainstorms? Was the cloak back? Was she sad? The biggest question of all is why Ellie got a visit while I remained ignored.

  “Okay, so this is going to sound really odd,” I began telling Ellie, although she might not have even been paying attention, “but if you ever dream of her again can you tell Ashlinn that I’m sorry.”

  She turned her head to the side and squinted at me.

  “The two of you say some freaky things, you know that? I mean, if I remember, I will, but it’s not like it even matters. I wish you would just explain this relationship to me, if that’s what it is. Have you even broken up?”

  I opened my mouth to answer but realized I had no idea. I had a negative amount of previous relationships to compare this one to.

  “I’m not sure,” I answered truthfully, then glanced over her back to investigate the tattoo’s progress. The purple outline had been almost completely replaced by the inflamed black design. Another silence stretched out in the room, except this one was uncomfortable. Thankfully, Ray was nearing the end.