Something was wrong here that I was missing. “Can we sit down?” she asked, looking over at the wooden bench, which ran the length of one wall of the parlor nearest the doorway to the back room.
“Of course.” I motioned toward the wooden bench, waiting for her to precede me.
She sat down a couple of feet away from me, dangling her purse between her legs while twisting the strap around her clenched hands. She didn’t look up at me and didn’t speak for nearly a minute, as if she was carefully weighing her words.
“My name is Tera, and I’ve heard a lot of great things about your work,” she finally said in a hushed voice, as if she was sharing some secret. “I’ve thought about it for a long time and I’ve decided that I want a pair of angel’s wings drawn on my back.”
“How big were you thinking?”
“My entire back.”
“Your whole back?” I dumbly repeated. This was not what I was expecting.
“From the tops of my shoulders to my lower back,” she confirmed.
“Have you gotten a tattoo before?”
“No.”
“Are you sure you want something so big to start with? Most people start with something smaller before getting such a large tattoo.”
“If it’s the needle you’re worried about, don’t. Needles don’t bother me.” Her voice hardened for the first time, giving me a flash of some unseen inner strength. “The pain won’t bother me either. I’ll be fine.”
“The other thing you have to consider is that tattoos are permanent, regardless of those stupid commercials and other so-called cures. You’ll have to live with this very large tattoo for the rest of your life.” In general, I wasn’t in the business of trying to talk someone out of a tattoo, but I believed a person should make an informed decision before jumping into such a big commitment.
“I can’t think of anything better,” she whispered, hanging her head down so that her hair blocked her face. However, I didn’t miss the quick motion of her hand sweeping up to her eye to catch what I was willing to guess was a tear.
Placing my elbows on my knees as I leaned forward, I cupped my right hand in my left, massaging out some of the tension that had settled there. I was beginning to guess where this was going and it was becoming increasingly harder for me to say no to this woman, which was going to be my downfall in the end.
Tera heaved a heavy sigh, as if she was finally prepared to bare her soul to me. “Look, Gage, I have to tell you the truth. I don’t have a lot of money. I can scrape together about two hundred dollars. I have a feeling that that won’t even begin to cover what I want, but this is my only chance. I’m dying. I’ve been diagnosed with terminal cancer and the doctors are saying that I’ve got anywhere from days to a few months. I haven’t been the best person in the world. I’m not some mass murderer or rapist, but I haven’t made the smartest of choices in life. I know I’m not going to get wings when I die, so I would like them now, even if it’s only for a day or two. Will you help me?”
Sucking in a deep breath, I lowered my head into my hands, digging my fingers into my hair. What the hell was I supposed to say? Sure, she could be conning me, but I doubted it. There was something about her, some darkness seeming to hang about her that reeked of death. She might not have terminal cancer, but I was willing to bet that she was telling the truth when it came to the fact that she was dying.
I dropped my hands and sat up so that I could look over at her. “Tera, I can guess at some of the things you’ve heard about me, and I honestly can’t help you with the cancer if that’s what you’re hoping.”
To my surprise, she gave a little chuckle and sat back against the bench, looking relaxed for the first time since coming into the parlor. Of course, she had already shared her dark secret with me, so what was there to be nervous about now? “I know that. Trust me, if a tattoo
Learning to Kill: Stories