The Raven, episode 1 (of 3)

By Paulette Hampton ...The ladies got out of the car and headed to the tattoo shop. As they entered, a bell rang announcing their presence. “Whatcha need?” Warren, the shop owner, greeted them...

Episode One: Half a Heart

“Let’s go!” Leslie turned off the car and slipped on her black leather jacket. Her dark hair was in pigtails. Somehow at 40, she could still pull it off. “I’ve got the babysitter watching Ronnie for four more hours so let’s do this.”

“I don’t know, Leslie,” Elizabeth said, twirling her auburn hair with her slender, perfectly manicured finger.

“Elizabeth, you promised. It’s my birthday! Besides, it’ll get your mind off Timothy and his rotten cheating ass.”

“I know, but—” Elizabeth closed her hazel-green eyes and sighed.

“It’s just one teeny weeny little half a heart on the back of your shoulder. It’ll match the one I’m getting.

Best friends forever.”

“Aren’t we too old to be doing this?” Elizabeth asked, continuing to twirl her hair.

“Absolutely not!”

“Fine, but then no more talk of tattoos, ever.”

“It’s a deal!”

The ladies got out of the car and headed to the tattoo shop. As they entered, a bell rang announcing their presence.

“Whatcha need?” Warren, the shop owner, greeted them with a sideways glance as they entered the tattoo parlor.

“My dear friend here would like a nipple piercing,” Leslie answered.

“Oh, god, Leslie!” Elizabeth’s face bloomed crimson.

“I’m just kidding!” Leslie laughed, taking off her jacket. “We’d like to get this half a heart on each of our shoulders.” She showed the shop owner the picture of the intended tattoo. It was a delicate pink heart in watercolor style with soft fluid flowers touching its edges.

Warren sighed. “Wait here.”

Leslie sat in the hot pink lips chair. Elizabeth sat across from her on a bright purple velvet sofa. She crossed her legs and daintily spread out her skirt.

“Magic Man, got customers for you,” Warren shouted while keeping his eyes on the two ladies. “Just a little spit of a tattoo for each of them.”

“It’s quite a big step for me, actually,” Elizabeth cleared her throat.

He nodded.

“Warren, have a little sympathy,” Magic Man chuckled coming out of the back room. “We can’t all have full sleeves.” He flexed his right arm to bring attention to his varied and myriad tattoos, one of which was that of a stunning redhead whose eyes were a striking sea green. “Good afternoon, ladies. What can I do you for?”

“We’d like half a heart on each shoulder.” Leslie handed him the picture.

“I can do that. Who’s first?” He looked from Elizabeth to Leslie and then back to Elizabeth, giving her a wry smile.

“I’m too nervous to go first,” said Elizabeth.

“If you aren’t sure about it, then definitely don’t do it.” Magic Man advised.

“Don’t talk her out of it!” Leslie groaned.

“Well, she’s not quite the tattoo type; is she?” he said, rubbing his salt and pepper goatee.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Elizabeth huffed.

“Well, you seem a bit—”

“Yes?” She sat up.

“I don’t mean any offense by it.”

“Oh, please, go on.” She clasped her hands together on her lap in indignation.

“You’re too prim and proper – a little mousy.” Magic Man shrugged his broad shoulders and slipped his hands into his tight jeans pockets. “Not quite the tattoo type.”

“What?” Elizabeth crossed her arms.

“We’re trying to broaden her sky,” Leslie explained.

“You agree with him?” Elizabeth turned to her friend.

“Well, Elizabeth, you kinda are.” Leslie shook her head and looked at Magic Man. “It just comes with being a librarian, I guess.”

Elizabeth recalled the words Timothy said to her after she’d asked him why he had cheated on her:

You’re too strait-laced. I want to have some fun.”

“So I’m boring?” Elizabeth pressed her mouth out into a grim line.

“I didn’t say that.” Magic Man flexed his jaw, accentuating the tattoos he also had on his neck: a murder of crows.

“I’ll go first then.” Elizabeth stood up.

“Yes, ma’am.” Magic Man motioned her to the room in the back where his small studio was housed.

“Do you need me to hold your hand?” Leslie asked, getting up from the pink lips chair.

Elizabeth lifted a penciled-in eyebrow. “I’m doing this on my own, thank you.”

“She’s a little spicey,” Magic Man whispered to Leslie loud enough for Elizabeth to hear.

“Let’s get this over with,” Elizabeth growled.

“If I had a dime.” The tattoo artist grinned.

“Why are you called Magic Man?” Elizabeth asked settling into the tattoo chair.

Magic Man lifted his hands, turning them slowly. “They work magic.” Elizabeth sensed a powerful gentleness from them.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit childish?”

“What’s that? Having a nickname?” Magic Man asked, organizing his tools and paint.

“Well, one like Ben or Dave seems sensible but Magic Man…”

“That’s what all my friends call me so I can’t argue with them.”

“I’d rather call you by your real name.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” Magic Man sat down behind her. She could smell his cologne – a juicy slice of citrus with a sexy undertone of patchouli.

Nervous now, Elizabeth studied the art that decorated his shop walls, noticing a painting of the same redhead Magic Man had tattooed on his arm.

“You drew all of these?”

“Yes,” Magic Man answered.

“This one is absolutely beautiful! You have her as a tattoo as well.” Elizabeth smiled. “Who is she?”

Elizabeth pointed at the color portrait of the woman with long flowing red hair and emerald eyes standing in the middle of a lake as though she had been formed from the water itself.

“I’ve been having a recurring dream with her in it for quite a few years now.” He said shyly. “So I thought I’d paint her.”

“What happens in the dream?”

“I’m at a lake and she just appears in the middle of the water. That’s about it.”

“How magical.”

“I consider her my angel or spirit guide.” Magic Man’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “Something like that.”

“Does she say anything?”

“Not usually. She just stands and sends this comforting vibe to me.” Magic Man looked longingly at the portrait. “She kinda looks like –.”

“So, will this hurt a lot?” Elizabeth studied the tattoo machine. A crease formed between her brows. “I have a very low pain threshold.”

“It won’t be pleasant, but you’ll survive.”

“That sounds like my last relationship.” She almost laughed.

“You’ll need to take your top off.”

“What?”

“I have a towel you can cover up with. I just need to be able to get to your shoulder.” Magic Man got up to get her a towel. “A spaghetti strap top would have been better to wear for this.”

“I didn’t know it would be this involved.”

“Most people don’t.” Magic Man handed her a clean towel and stepped out of the room to give her some privacy.

When he came back in, Elizabeth had wrapped herself so tightly in the towel, she could barely breathe.

“Ha!” Magic Man laughed. “You’re squeezing yourself to death. Give yourself some slack.”

“Oh, I’m fine.”

“I promise you; I’ve seen it all and then some.”

“Well, that’s fine for you but I don’t make it a common occurrence to show it all and then some.”

“Fair enough,” he said slipping on two elastic black gloves with a snap.

“Goodness!”

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Magic Man thought for a moment. “You’re pretty high-strung.”

“What?”

“You get startled easily or maybe you’re just nervous in here.”

“Just in here,” she lied.

“I’m prepping the area so this will be a little cold,” Magic Man advised as he gently wiped the alcohol-soaked cotton ball on the back of her shoulder, making small cool circles.

Elizabeth’s skin responded with a cascade of chill bumps that trailed down her arm.

“I can turn up the heat if you like,” he offered.

“No, that’s fine.” She cleared her throat. “I’m fine.”

“Now, I’m going to place the drawing outline on your shoulder.”

She felt his big hands touch her softly, pressing the drawing firmly against her skin, smoothing it to ensure each line would be visible for him to trace.

“So, how long have you been tattooing?” Elizabeth asked, trying to distract herself from the weight of his presence.

“This is my first day.”

“I should hope not!”

“I’m just kidding.” Magic Man shook his head. “I’ve been doing this for 20 years.”

“Oh.”

“So, I know my way around.”

“I’m sure you do. I mean, of course, you would by now.”

“Here comes the not-so-pleasant part. We’ll take breaks as often as you like.”

“Okay.”

“Elizabeth!” Leslie shouted in the doorway. “I’ve got to go. The babysitter just called and said that Ronnie has a fever.”

Elizabeth glanced at Magic Man with disappointed relief. “I’ll have to do this another day.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“You can walk in anytime, but,” he reached in his pocket and pulled out his business card, “you can give me a call to set something up if you like.”

“I’d like that. Thanks!”

“Until then,” Magic Man smiled.

“Yes, until then.”

🩷🩷🩷

Paulette Hampton holds a Masters in Reading Education and is a multi-genre writer. She is the author of the YA paranormal novel Of the Lilin, the memoir When Life was Yellow: A Memoir of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, and a sci-fi novella entitled Singing to the Fere Moon. Her poems have appeared in Immortal Hymns Rewritten Realms, Secret Attic, WildSound, and elsewhere. She loves to draw and spend time with family and friends. She lives with her husband and two cats in North Carolina. https://paulettehampton42.wixsite.com/website.