The buzzing stopped. “Okay, little dude, you can open your eyes now,” said Melissa, stripping off her black latex gloves.
“Glrrh,” said Hunter. He opened his eyes and pulled a wooden spoon from between his teeth, gouged with teeth marks. He looked down at his chest, which was smeared with ink and partially covered by paper towel stuck to gooey petroleum jelly. He slid his legs off the table and stood up.
“Here,” said Melissa, nudging him toward a mirror. She wiped off the ink, revealing the tattoo: A blue dragon curled around a blocky green Minecraft Creeper, swirled with red and orange flames and bordered by a swarm of black bats. Above his navel was the Batman logo, and atop it all were the words in heavy gothic script, “NEVER BACK DOWN” followed by in smaller letters, “Hunter O’Brien est. 2013”
Hunter marveled at the colors and shapes covering his full chest and part of his belly.
“Wow!” he breathed. “This is awesome!”
He looked up at Melissa. Her eyes crinkled at the corners under thick winged eyeliner. “And it didn’t even hurt as much as I thought it would!”
She ruffled his hair.
“Just keep it clean and out of the sun for a week, okay? And don’t scrub it in the shower.” She applied a thin layer of moisturizing balm to his chest, then stuck a large piece of plastic cling wrap to it.
He gingerly pulled his shirt down. They walked to the front counter.
“What do I owe ya?” said Hunter, pulling out his wallet.
Melissa leaned over the counter. “Hmm. For my sister’s kid? I can get you a discount. What do you got?”
He opened the wallet. “I have eighty-five cents… and a button.”
“What! Come on. An eight year old kid should be doing better than that. So broke!” She peered into the wallet. “What’s this?”
He pulled out a card. “That’s a Subway gift card that Grandma gave me,” he said, flashing it. “She says it has five dollars left on it.”
“Jeez, if I had known you were so broke, I wouldn’t have agreed to do the tattoo,” said Melissa. “Tell you what. You can pay me a thousand dollars when you turn eighteen.”
He looked up at her, eyes wide, trying to tell if she was joking. He grinned. “No…”
“Yes! And you better have it, or I’ll break your knees!”
He laughed. Just then, the bell jingled as someone walked into the shop. Melissa caught Hunter’s eye, put a finger to her lips and winked. He winked back theatrically.
“Hey, Melissa,” said Hunter’s mom, Amy, from the door. “Thanks for watching him today.”
Hunter ran to the back to get his school bag.
“No problem,” said Melissa. “He was great.”
Amy looked around at the shop, at the flash art adorning the walls. Skulls and snakes. Roses dripping blood. She peered around the counter. Through a doorway, she saw an artist hunched over a huge hairy biker. The tattoo gun buzzed.
“I’m still not sure if he should be in a place like this,” said Amy. Melissa flipped through some post-it messages on the desk.
“Relax,” said Melissa. “He’s with me the whole time. Everyone who comes in here is a sweetheart anyway.” She brushed a lock of blue hair out of her face with a tattooed finger.
“Right,” said Amy. Hunter appeared. “Ready to go, baby?”
“Yep!” said Hunter.
“Do anything exciting today?” asked Amy.
“Nope,” said Hunter, glancing back over his shoulder at Melissa. She gave a double thumbs up.
Two hours later, Melissa had a consultation with a client.
“And I want her boobs to squish together when I flex,” grumbled the man, gesturing to his bicep. “Then, underneath that, I want the year 1987 in roman numerals, across here.”
“Okay,” said Melissa, sketching. Suddenly, the phone rang. “Criminal Ink, this is Melissa,” she answered. She rolled her eyes.
“Amy, before you say anything, it’s sharpie…”
She pulled the phone away from her ear and winced. She gestured to the client: this will just take a minute…
