Historical Fiction

Tyler Hill

    “Ow! Be careful!”

“Hold still! I’ve barely even started!”

“OW! Take it easy! I thought you were some kind of professional!” the patron barked, leaping out of the distressed leather chair.

“Alright kid,” sighed Lou, “I don’t tattoo pansies. Get the hell out of my shop.” He yanked the young man by the collar of his fatigues and dragged him to the door.

“I paid you for a tattoo! I want my money back!” The young corpsman was obviously inebriated. He slurred his words when he spoke and his face turned red with anger. “Fight me like a man!” He threw his fists at Lou and kicked his feet, but couldn’t land a punch. Lou lifted him up, kicked open the door, and tossed him out into the street.

“When you’re sober and ready to act like a man, you can come back and I’ll finish your tattoo, but until then, fuck off!” Lou Norman was notorious for his hot temper and for giving quality tattoos; a well respected man in the Honolulu tattoo scene. The kid scrambled to his feet, stuffed his hands in his pockets and stumbled off, hanging his head and spitting curses at the concrete below. “He’s probably gonna run straight to Jerry.” Lou muttered under his breath as he spun on his foot and headed back to his shop.

“Wait! Mr. Norman!” a female voice beckoned. Lou snapped his head around to find a woman running down the sidewalk in high heels, taking long awkward steps, like a giraffe with weak knees. She was waving a small black microphone in front of her face with a young, sweaty intern carrying a tape recorder in tow. Her obvious wig bounced up and down as she galloped towards him. “Mr. Norman! Kathy Reynolds with FM 94.6! What do you have to say about your rival, Norman Keith “Sailor Jerry” Collins’ claims earlier today?” she asked him.

“What claims are those?” Lou asked as he checked his watch, then routinely pulled a pill bottle out of his breast pocket and popped the last of his blood pressure pills.

“He told us that you were wrong about there being no purple ink. He said, ‘Lou Norman is full of horseshit, as usual. Purple ink has been around for a long time. I’ve got some in my shop right now!’. What do you have to say about that?” Lou clenched his jaw and took in a deep breath. His heart rate started to climb. He squinted at Kathy, grabbed a pack from his pocket and pulled out his lucky cigarette.

“Are you kidding me? Just who in the hell does he think he is? He says I’m full of horseshit? Ha! Nobody has purple ink! I’ve said it a thousand times! The pigment doesn’t stick! Never has, never will! That Sailor Jerry is nothing but a two bit scab vendor! You can tell him to take his imaginary purple ink and shove it up his ass!” His heart was pounding, ready to burst out of his chest. Lou grabbed onto one of the wooden posts holding up the awning for his entry way and dragged his feet over to the bench next to the door. “No… No further comments.”.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Norman.” Kathy Reynolds spun and walked back the way she came, with an obvious pep in her step. Lou lit his cigarette and took a long drag. It would only be a matter of hours before Jerry would hear Lou’s rant on the radio.

 

* * *

    Jerry held the mirror up so that the drunk corpsman could see his new forearm piece. “So, what do you think?” asked Jerry, arms crossed and pipe in mouth. He stood back and cracked a little grin as he scanned over every little detail. “Is he gonna love it or what?”

    “Ohhh he’s gonna love it, I’ll tell you what. That bastard Lou Norman won’t know what hit him. Did I tell you… Did I tell you he kicked me out of his shop?” the corpsman was still slurring his words.

    “Yes you did, about 3 times already… Are you sure you remember the plan?”

    “Yeah, yeah, I remember the plan.” The young man stared at his forearm and grinned. “Boy this color sure looks good Jerry.” He wobbled a little bit then took a step towards Jerry, arms outstretched for a hug. He tripped into Jerry and was met with a hard shove. The kid jumped back up, fists raised. Jerry’s hand dropped immediately to his waist and he unsheathed his large buck knife in one quick motion. He spun it around on his palm and held the blade upside down in a fist.

    “I like you kid, but you’re drunk. Don’t do something stupid. Just go show him the damned tattoo.” The old man’s demeanor was as calm as ever.

    “Yeah… Of course Jerry… Won’t happen again...” the kid had his eyes fixed on the large blade. “I’ll… I’ll go show him the tattoo! This is gonna be hilarious!” He let out an awkward giggle and backed up towards the door. He bumped into the doorframe then turned and ran down Hotel Street. Jerry sat down in his old wooden chair, sheathed his buck knife, and puffed on his oak pipe. He couldn’t help but smile as he smoked and

wished he could be there to see Lou’s face.

    The corpsman found Lou outside of his shop, hanging up a “Closed” sign. “Lou! Lou! I have an idea for a tattoo! I’ll pay you double!” He waved his arm around while running up the porch stairs. “I’m sorry about earlier, I was a lot drunker than I should have been! I’ll sit like a rock, I promise!”. Lou Norman turned his head over his shoulder, one eyebrow cocked, obviously intrigued.

    “Double? I’m not gonna listen to you whine for two hours for double. Make it triple and you have a deal.” Lou was reluctant to tattoo the kid, even at triple the price.

    “Fine, triple! Can I tell you what I want?!” The corpsman had a grin on his face from ear to ear. He was barely able to contain himself.

    “Ugh… Sure, what’s your idea?” Lou hated tattooing other peoples’ designs. He wasn’t a great free hand artist.

    “I want a giant purple dragon on my forearm! I asked Sailor Jerry and he said I should talk to you.” The young sailor was starting to crack up. Lou Norman’s eyes turned into fireballs and he started breathing heavily.

    “Kid, you better not be joking with me right now…” he clenched his fists, “I don’t know what he’s talking about… There ain’t no such thing as purple ink. The color doesn’t stick, it’s a fact. Besides, he’s the one runnin’ around claimin’ he’s got purple ink, not me.” Lou’s heart started to beat furiously.

    “Really? There’s no such thing as purple ink?” the corpsman grabbed ahold of his sleeve, “Then how do you explain this?” he yanked his sleeve up his arm revealing one of the most beautiful tattoos Lou Norman had ever laid eyes on. A magnificent oriental dragon met his gaze with one more furious and powerful than he could ever have drawn. It fit the forearm beautifully, every curve and angle displayed perfectly on the flat underside of his arm. It was long and winding back and forth from the sailor’s wrist towards his elbow. The heavy black background accentuated the bright scales more than any cloud or castle backdrop could have; the kind of backdrops Lou always used in his dragon tattoos. His heart rate spiked.

“Purple...” muttered Lou. He felt a sharp pain in his chest. “Purple ink...” the sharp pain became a hot coal, igniting all of his veins and arteries. His left side went numb. The corpsman’s smile disappeared as he shouted something and turned to pedestrians for help. Lou was def and losing vision, his whole world was spinning into total blackness.

* * *

“Doctor, he’s waking up!” a nurse put a hand on Lou’s cheek. “You’ve been out for a couple hours, hun.” Lou’s vision was still blurry. He tried to speak, but only ended up coughing and gasping for air. The nurse put an oxygen mask on him.

“You’ve suffered a massive heart attack.” said the doctor, excusing the nurse from the room. “You’ll need to get some rest.” Lou turned his attention to the vase of what looked like flowers on the dresser. He pointed to them and tried to speak again, unsuccessfully. “Ah, yes. Someone came by and dropped those off for you. He said he was an old friend and that he just had to get you flowers. He was a sweet guy too. Said he made sure to get your favorite color.” Lou’s eyes strained to make out the vase of flowers on the counter. He knew who dropped them off as soon as they came into focus. His heart started beating faster again and the tempo of the heart monitor increased drastically. “Nurse! He’s having another one!” shouted the doctor, running to find his assistant.