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“He was over on Duplantis at the corner by the laundry, but he moves around a lot. His name is Spire.”
“Spire? That’s a weird name,” she laughed. The girls giggled, and she realized they were probably only fifteen or sixteen years old. If he gave them tattoos, then he would give her a tattoo for sure.
“Thanks for the tip, and your tats are really cool.”
Waving goodbye to the girls, she quickly walked in the direction of Duplantis and the laundry. Not seeing anyone at the corners, she looked up and down the streets. Finally, she decided to walk the full blocks to be sure he hadn’t gone to another location.
About to give up hope, she started back to the Square when she spotted someone at a table with his back turned to her. As she got closer, she realized he was giving a tattoo to someone.
Not wanting to interrupt, she just watched while he worked.
“You’re making me nervous,” he snapped. “Go sit down and wait for me.”
“S-sorry. Are you Spire?”
“Yes. Go sit down.”
“Okay, but can I get a tattoo from you?” she asked. He stopped, turning to look at the young girl. He stared her up and down, then nodded.
“Three hundred. It’s my standard price,” he said.
“Yeah. Okay,” she nodded. Taking her seat on a bus bench, she waited patiently as he finished the ink on the young man in the chair. When he was done, he held up a mirror for him, and he nodded, giving him a strange handshake. He pointed to the chair and gave a look of impatience to her.
“Oh, right. So, I want something like you gave the three girls this morning. I met them in the Square, and the symbols were really cool.”
“You don’t want that,” he grinned, shaking his head at the girl.
“No, I do!” she said excitedly. “I think it’s really cool.”
“Okay. Just remember, you asked for it.” He wiped down his little folding table and put on a new pair of gloves. “What’s your name?”
“Christina,” she said quickly, then regretted giving him her real name. He didn’t seem too concerned by it, just nodding his head.
“Cool. It’s going to hurt, but just sit still, and it won’t take me long.”
She’d read so many internet pages about tattoos. She had a pretty good idea of what this was going to feel like. She felt him draw the symbols on her back, then showed her with the mirror what they would look like.
It was perfectly placed. You couldn’t see it in a t-shirt or regular clothing, but if she wore something that bared her shoulders or a racerback top, it would be visible. Her parents would never know. She would show them after she turned eighteen.
“Hey, what do those symbols mean?” she asked about halfway through the tattoo.
“It’s a little late to ask that question, isn’t it?” he smirked.
“I guess,” she said quietly. She started to worry that maybe she was getting a bad word placed on her body or something offensive. “It’s not a cuss word, is it?”
“No. It’s not a cuss word. Now shut up, and let me finish.”
When it was done, she gave him the three hundred dollars and was thrilled to be able to show her friends what she’d done. Usually the lagger in the group, waiting to get permission, waiting to be sixteen, waiting to be eighteen, now she was one of the first to have a tattoo.
“That’s so cool, Christina. What does it mean?” asked her friend Becky.
“Something like future or inspire, I’m not sure. I just thought it was really awesome, and there were some other girls with it, too. Hey, I did lose that fake ID. Some douche in a tattoo shop took it from me and refused to do this.”
“How did you get it done?” she asked.
“I found some guy after seeing a couple of young girls with tattoos. They said he just sort of roams the streets and gives tattoos without asking questions. The guy didn’t care how old I was. Do you have another ID? I want to go out this Friday night and show this baby off. I have the perfect halter top to wear.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll get it to you tomorrow.”
