Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Henri
Sailor Jerry’s is awesome. Brielle is as amazed as I am as we wander around the place, looking at all the pictures on the walls. They’re of real customers with tattoos Hash did and they’re so good.
“I’m gonna be a tattoo artist when I grow up,” Brielle says, fascinated by a vine of roses and thorns wrapping around a girl’s arm.
There’s three people working there. Oscar says they’re the inkers.
Two are guys who are busy with customers and the other is the coolest looking girl I’ve ever seen.
She’s got blue hair on one side of her head, the other is shaved bald.
And tons of piercings and tattoos. She’s wearing a T-shirt under a leather vest and has on leather pants and combat boots.
Her makeup is all black and even her name is cool. Mercy.
Hash is awesome too even if he didn’t let me ride on the back of his bike. I was angry at first but then realized that he was using good judgement. Mom would have gone gorilla on him, and I know what that’s like.
He shows us his tattoos. He has a lot, from his neck down and his chest and arms. Even his hands. “Do you have more?” Brielle asks.
He grins at her. “Not that I can show you.”
My face feels hot because I know what he means. So does Brielle as she blushes.
Ash is standing over by one of the inkers, talking to him and the guy getting the tattoo. Max is slumped in a chair near the entrance, leafing through one of the books full of tattoos and Sean is wandering around the shop looking at everything.
Oscar’s been lounging against the front counter, trying to look cool, his arms and ankles crossed. But when he sees me watching, he makes a face, like, ‘What have we gotten ourselves into?’
I look back at him with the same face.
Hash and Mercy are leaning over the counter with their backs to us. Hash is sketching out what our tattoo will look like, and Mercy is adding her two-bits. Finally, Hash nods and turns to Oscar and me with the paper in hand. “What’d ya think?”
Everyone crowds around and looks. It’s so cool. Hash has taken the fuzziness of the skull away by drawing dark lines to make the skull look more 3D. He’s expanded the drips that are supposed to be blood so they look like wings. Embedded in one of the wings is HJ.
“Can we get it done too?” Max asks.
“Of course, you can’t,” Ash says. “You’re underage.”
“So are you,” Max snaps back.
“I’m 16. I don’t need parental permission.”
Hash snorts. “You do if your dad’s name is Hangman.”
Mercy meets my eye and smiles, then walks over to me. “Let’s see what you got.”
I pull up my sleeve to show her.
“Jesus,” she whispers, then looks at Hash. “It’s horrible.”
Tears spurt to my eyes.
“It’s not your fault, kid,” Hash says as he tussles my hair. “Don’t think you had a choice.”
He’s kind of wrong, since we had a choice to not go into the gang clubhouse alone. But his words make me feel better anyway.
“Okay, tetanus shots first,” Hash announces. “You take Henri,” he tells Mercy. “I’ll do Oscar.”
Secretly, I’m glad I get Mercy, but I don’t say it out loud because I don’t want to hurt Hash’s feelings. After I get the shot, I realize why I’m with Mercy. Tetanus shots go in the bum cheeks.
After that’s over, she takes me to her chair and sits me down. “Ready to get started?” she asks.
I nod. My mouth feels really dry and my heart’s beating hard. I don’t know why. This is way better than getting tattooed by Lola.
Mercy pulls a tray towards me and starts by disinfecting my arm.
It hurts and I wince, but I keep my mouth shut. I don’t want to look like a baby in front of everyone.
“Hers doesn’t look too bad,” she says over her shoulder to Hash. “No infection that I can tell.”
“Here too,” Hash replies. Then I hear the buzz of Hash’s gun. “Stop me if it starts to hurt,” he says to Oscar. “We gotta get this done before your dad gets wind of this. I need enough time for me and Peyton to pack for a long vacation.”
“I’ll explain it to him,” Oscar says.
“If you get a chance before he tries to kill me.”
Mercy starts up her gun. “I might have to go on that vacay with you.
Hash grunts a laugh.
Brielle, who has been sitting in a chair leafing through a tattoo book calls, “You don’t have to worry, Mercy. Eight wouldn’t hurt a girl.”
“She’s right,” Max says. “Or Henri would’ve been dead a long time ago.”
“Haha,” I say sarcastically, even though he’s sort of right.
After a while, I get bored. Hash and Mercy are really concentrating, so they’re not talking to each other and they’re the only ones with interesting things to say.
The other artists get done with their customers, clean up, say goodbye to Hash and Mercy and leave.
The shop gets very quiet.
Mercy is almost done when Mom and Eight come crashing through the door.
“What the fuck is going on?” Eight shouts.
“Uh oh,” Hash says as he flicks off his gun and lays it down on the table. Mercy follows suit.
They both slowly stand. Mercy backs up while Hash takes a few careful steps towards mom and Eight. “It’s not what you think, man.”
“It’s exactly the fuck what I think. You and…” he glances at Mercy. “… are inking our kids.”
“I can’t believe this!” Mom shrieks as she looks at me. “You’ve done some stupid things in your short life, but this tops them all!”
I shake my hands in front of me because I’m nervous, which doesn’t happen much. I don’t think it’s happened before I got tangled up with Oscar. “It’s not our fault.”
“You’re fuckin’ right it isn’t!” Eight roars as he hurtles toward Hash, grabs him by the vest and throws him towards the door.
“You and me. We’re gonna have a talk.” He stops, looks at all of us, “You stay!” To Hash, he says, “Outside!” Which is not really necessary since Eight hauled him out anyway.
“Dad!” Oscar bellows. “It’s not his fault!” He scrambles toward the door, but mom blocks the way.
She points her finger at all of us. “You bloody idiots stay inside!” She turns and follows Eight and Hash through the door.
Max and I roll our eyes at each other. “Like that’s gonna happen,” he says as he barrels out the door, followed by the rest of us.
We’re just in time to see Eight drag Hash down the alley, mom hot on his heels.
Ash throws himself between Hash and Eight as Eight is about to swing his fist. “Would you cool down and listen!” Fortunately, he ducks in time, and unfortunately, Hash gets hit solidly on the jaw.
“Get back inside,” mom snarls.
Brielle starts to cry, but mom and Eight are too mad to even notice. Sean, however, slides his arms around Brielle’s shoulders and turns her into him. “Don’t watch,” he says, then walks her out of the alley.
Hash uses the wall to get to his feet, tries to defend himself, but has no chance as Eight follows up with a hard punch to the stomach. “You fuck! Inking my boy. I’m gonna make you wish you never woke up this morning.”
Hash groans and slides down the wall.
“Dad!” Oscar shouts as he jumps on Eight’s back, wrapping his arms around Eight’s head and covering his eyes so he can’t see.
“Get off me, you little asshole!” Eight snarls as he grabs at Oscar’s hands. “You got your own load of explainin’ to do.”
Eight’s circling around like a bucking horse, trying to dislodge Oscar, but Oscar’s got his legs wrapped around his dad’s waist and is hanging on tightly.
While Eight’s wrestling with Oscar, mom takes over the assault on Hash, trying to kick him the groin. Luckily, Hash falls over sideways and she kicks the wall instead.
“Fuck!” she grunts.
Her distraction gives me time to tackle her. I would’ve jumped on her back like Oscar did to Eight, but she would’ve bucked me off in three-seconds flat. As horses go, mom’s wilder than most.
She stumbles, then hits the ground hard, her chin bouncing off the pavement.
“Goddamn!” she snarls in pain, then turns to her back and tries to get me off her. I’m sitting on her stomach, my knees squeezing her hard while she slaps at me.
“Would ya help?” I yell at Max and Ash. “Like get Hash out of here!”
Max and Ash race over to Hash and lift him to his feet. “Take off,” Max says. “We’ll talk them down.”
Hash shakes his head. “I’m not fuckin’ going anywhere and leaving you with these assholes.”
“Hey!” I say, going daughter-bear on him. “No one calls my mom an asshole except me!”
My momentary distraction costs me as mom grabs my hair and rolls me over onto my back. “You little monster,” she says. “I will lock you up until you leave home.”
Meanwhile, Eight has literally hauled Oscar over his head and tossed him on his ass. “Same,” he says to Oscar, then moves past him towards Hash.
Max and Ash step in to block him. Oscar scrambles to his feet and joins them. “You’re gonna listen, dad.”
I push mom off me. “I gotta help them.”
Mom glares at me. “Are you nuts? You are nuts. What’s gonna happen when Elle sees you?” She’s calming down though, coming back to being her old self.
“I think we can call her grandma now. Me and Oscar accidently broke her cover.”
In the meantime, Eight stops cold. Sure, he could turn Hash into a happy meal, but he won’t cross the line with us kids. He takes a few deep breaths.
“Explain,” he says, still sounding and looking mad.
“Maybe you should take a couple more breaths,” I say as I get to my feet. “Because you’re not gonna like the explanation, even if Hash is innocent.”
“Okay, listening.” But Eight’s arms are crossed and he’s staring at Hash with daggers. “You better fuckin’ hope the explanation is enough.”
“We gotta go inside,” I say. “Hash’s bleeding.” I glare at Eight. “You’re a bully.”
Eight glares back. “Says the little shit who got Oscar kicked out of school.”
Mom let’s that comment go, which worries me.
We flank Hash as we take him inside, mom and Eight following us. Brielle is sitting next to Sean, a wad of tissue in her hand. “Is it over?” she says tearfully.
Mom and Eight look at her with guilty faces. Then mom says to Eight. “We need to start being better parents.”
Eight nods. “Yeah.” To Brielle, he says, “Sorry, kid.”
“It’s okay,” Brielle says in a small voice.
“But not really,” Sean adds sternly.
Meanwhile, Mercy offers a wet towel to Hash and steers him towards a chair. She glares at Eight. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Eight looks at all of us with a neutral look on his face. “You were inking my fuckin’ kids. That’s what’s wrong with me.”
“Let me tell them,” Oscar says to me.
I don’t argue. I’d end up saying stupid things that would set mom off again.
Oscar starts, but I interrupt him almost immediately. “You two should sit down,” I tell mom and Eight. “This might take a while.”
Oscar glares at me. I glare back, then say to mom and Eight, “Also, you can’t interrupt until we tell you everything.”
“Don’t tell—” mom starts.
I shake my head. “No interrupting. You made Brielle cry, so you owe us.”
Mom rolls her eyes, then looks at Eight, who shrugs. “No interrupting.”
I nod to Oscar who gives me a respectful smile. I try not to smile back, but my lips turn up anyway.
Oscar goes through the events of last night and this morning. It’s fun to watch mom because she’s shifting around like she has to pee. She so wants to interrupt.
Eight, on the other hand, is sitting with his arms crossed, his dead eyes focused on Oscar. It’s really hard to tell what he’s thinking.
When Oscar’s done, we all hold our breath.
Eight’s eyes flick to Hash. “Never thought to call me?”
“They begged me not to,” Hash says as he swipes at his lip. He doesn’t look too bad for someone who was punched hard.
“They’re kids,” Eight replies.
“We’re not that young,” Max pipes up, sounding insulted.
Eight ignores Max. “Let’s see it,” he says to Oscar.
I follow Oscar and show my tattoo at the same time. They’re exactly alike. And practically perfect.
“They have to come back in a couple of days,” Hash says cautiously. “We gotta make sure the tats don’t get infected and once they’re healed we’ll put some colour to them.”
Mom is totally focused on my tattoo. “It’s pretty good. What did it look like before?”
Mercy, who took pictures before we got started, passes her phone to mom. “Jesus,” mom breathes. “It looks like a pile of dog shit.”
“That’s what I said!” Max exclaims proudly.
Brielle slides off her chair and tentatively makes her way over to us. “Can I see?”
I show her the new tattoo. “It looks nice, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah,” she says as she stares at it. “It’s beautiful.” She looks at Hash. “Can I have one?”
Eight starts laughing like I’ve never heard him before. “Yeah. Give her one, Hash. I’ll come to your funeral.”
Hash’s smile looks painful.
“Look,” Brielle exclaims as her finger hovers close to my tattoo. “There’s a HJ woven in the bird’s wing.”
Groan. Brielle needs to learn that less is more.
“What?” Mom and Eight grab our arms and look closely.
“For fuck’s sake!” Eight exclaims. “You branded them as Hell’s Jury kids.”
“It’s barely noticeable,” Ash says as he scrutinizes Oscar’s tattoos. “No one will notice.”
“Brielle noticed,” I say, forgetting whose side I’m supposed to be on.
Mom glares at Hash. “And HJ for my kid? We’re not part of your bike club.”
Eight immediately looks offended. “I thought you were.”
“We were going to discuss this with them over breakfast?” She’s talking low and tilting her head toward us like we can’t hear or see her.
“What’s that mean?” I say warily.
Oscar groans. “It means that dad’s gonna make your mom an ol’ lady.”
I’d be offended on mom’s behalf, but mom is getting kind of old. “You mean boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“Yay!” Brielle exclaims as she claps her hands. “Then you’ll be around all the time!”
Max pretends he’s throwing up.
Ash and Sean smirk.
Hash leans his head back on his chair and closes his eyes.