Yoss rolled his eyes and ignored him. He pulled the thin chain of the necklace he had bought me from inside my shirt. The little red man lay against my chest. “I want this. Just this. So you have one and I have one. Not too big. And I want it right here.” He touched a finger to the side of his neck.
“On your neck? Isn’t that a little noticeable?” I asked incredulously.
“That’s the point,” Yoss told me, kissing my mouth with a loud smack. He turned once again to Bruno who was covering the dark spot on Di’s back with some sort of antibacterial cream. I was glad to see he was doing something sanitary. “Yeah, if you’ve got time, I’d love to get it now.”
“How’s it look?” Di asked me, sitting up. I bent over to get a better look at the tattoo. I was expecting something crude and elementary, given the primal way Bruno went about it. I was surprised to see that the tattoo, a compass with the arrow pointing north, was very detailed. It was beautiful.
“It’s awesome! Why a compass?” I asked her.
Di pulled her shirt back down and pulled a cigarette from the pack she always kept in her back pocket. “A compass tells you where you’re going right?”
I nodded.
“I like the reminder that I’ve still got somewhere to go,” Di explained, taking the lighter Bruno offered her.
“That’s deep, Di,” Bruno remarked.
“Shut it, B,” she snarled.
“So what do you want?” Bruno asked Yoss.
Yoss beckoned me closer and pointed to my necklace. “I want this, right here,” he pointed to the left side of his neck.
Bruno squinted at my chest and it made me a little uncomfortable having him peer in the general direction of my boobs. “Okay then, that’s easy enough. It shouldn’t take me long. Di, move your ass and let our boy have a seat,” Bruno barked.
Di tossed her still lit cigarette in Bruno’s face. “You’re such a dick,” she muttered.
Bruno laughed and made sure to stomp out the smoldering cigarette with the tip of his boot.
Yoss took the spot Di vacated.
“Does this color red work?” Bruno asked, holding out a pen with bright red ink.
“Yeah, that works,” Yoss told him. Bruno broke the pen in half and dabbed the ink onto a small ceramic plate. He then coated the tip of a needle and brought it to Yoss’s skin, getting started on the tattoo.
It took Bruno over an hour. Yoss didn’t say much. Bug and Karla left and Shane had passed out, snoring softly in the corner. Di had wandered over to another group of kids nearby. It was just the three of us. Yoss, me, and Bruno working steadily.
“Okay, man, it’s done,” Bruno said finally. Yoss let out a small breath, clearly relieved it was over.
“What do you think, sweetheart?” Bruno asked as I got up to have a look at his handiwork.
“I like it.” I meant it. It was sort of perfect for Yoss. Different. Just like him.
“Thanks, man,” Yoss said. “What do I owe you?”
Bruno peered at him shrewdly. “Whatcha got?”
“I’ve got some cash, but you can pick what you want from my stuff if you want,” Yoss offered.
“How about that stereo I saw you lugging in here a couple of months back.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s fair,” Yoss muttered, though he didn’t seem happy about it. Yoss loved his stereo. We listened to music every night before we went to sleep. It helped to drown out the misery around us.
I wanted to tell him to not give it to Bruno. To find something else to trade. But it wasn’t mine. Yoss could do with it what he wanted.
“Awesome.” Bruno grinned, looking pretty pleased with the arrangement.
Yoss got to his feet, putting his hand to his neck. Bruno looked at me again, his eyebrows raised. “You sure I can’t interest you in a little ink? Maybe a butterfly on your hip?”
Yoss kissed my temple, his lips soft on my skin, his breath warm in my hair. “She’s perfect as she is.” I closed my eyes briefly, my heart full.
“Fucking hell, stop that shit,” Bruno grumbled.
“Let’s get the stereo before he gets pissy,” Yoss said and I nodded.
We walked over to our sleeping spot and Yoss took out the CD we had been listening to earlier and left it on the pile of stuff he had accumulated over the years.
“Why did you want to get that tattoo so bad that you’d give up your stereo?” I asked, not understanding.
“There are few things in this world I can claim as mine,” Yoss said, wiping dust from his fingers. “My name is one of them.”
I frowned, still confused.
“Your name?”
“Live forever, Imi, or die in the attempt. That’s what the character Yossarian was all about. Heller had it right, don’t ya think? Maybe good ol’ Mom was trying to tell me something by giving me this crazy name. Imparting some sage maternal wisdom I need to hold onto.”
I rolled my eyes even though my heart hurt for him. “I think you’re reading a little too much into a name.”