Touching Melody

37

Maddie

I’ll Make It Bitchin





“How bad is this going to hurt?” Kyle whispers as we walk into the tattoo parlor.

“It’ll hurt… some.” I shrug. It’s the kind of pain I like. Especially today, on the anniversary of my parents’ deaths.

Tony steps up to the counter. “Back again, huh?” His eyes sweep over me, and then he glances at Kyle.

“Yeah.” I nod. “Tony, this is Kyle.”

“Good to meet you, son. What kind of tattoo are you interested in?”

Kyle shows him a piece of paper. On it he’s drawn a pair of wings with the tips on fire. He won’t tell me what it means, and I don’t pry. Tattoos are private. “I was hoping to get this. Only better, of course.”

“I think we can handle that. Carl will be your artist.”

At the mention of his name, Carl comes over. Tony hands him the paper. “Think you can work your magic and create something like this?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll make it bitchin’. Come on back.”

Kyle mouths the work bitchin’ to me, and I shrug. He follows Carl over to a cubicle. Carl has a sketchbook out and is asking Kyle questions as he draws. When he’s finished he’ll scan it into the computer and render a tattoo.

Tony gives me another once over. “And what about you?”

“I’m thinking a phoenix with the word hope somewhere in the wings,” I say somewhat tentatively.

“Cool. Let’s get to work.” I follow him to his workstation, which is a cubicle with a computer and some art books sitting on a desk. We discuss what I have in mind. Tony pulls up different ideas on his computer. He rearranges things so the tattoo is to my liking. When he’s finished, he presses Print. “Where do you want it?”

I stand and point at my right hip, below the bone.

“Cool.” He nods.

“What does it mean? This one.” He taps on the screen.

“Nothing,” I answer, since it’s none of his business.

Tony snorts. “Whatever, kid.” He pulls the special tattoo transfer paper off the printer. “Come on back.”

I follow him into the room with the yellow curtain.

“Take off your pants and lie back, Maddie.”

I cover my mouth to hide the snort. Unbutton my pants, slide them off, and hop up on the chair. Tony goes through the motions. Gloves. Gauze. He moves the strap on my bikinis and wipes the area on my hip with rubbing alcohol.

“Holy shit,” I hear Kyle shout from the front.

Tony looks at me. “Your friend’s first time.”

I laugh. “Yeah.”

He puts the transfer below my bone. “Right here.”

“Perfect,” I say.

He turns on the gun. I close my eyes.

Brace myself for the pain. And though I’m still looking forward to it, I realize I’m also done. Because in the past year I’ve learned a lot, but the biggest lesson is that death is part of life. I can’t get away from it, but that doesn’t mean I should stop living. It means I need to live each day to its fullest. And I realize I can’t control when my time will come, but I can control how I spend the time I have.