Angel's Tears - 2. Spontaneous Wings

A couple of days passed by after my interview with Aiden and I still hadn't gotten a call from neither him nor the big boss. I was starting to get worried.

With the weather being so hot, I was spending more time in my underwear in my place rather than clothed and outside. It was a hard thing to do. I like to be outside normally. It is a sad day when I feel uncomfortable out in the open air.

I suppose the air here simply felt full. That the sky had been pumped full of something thick and sticky. Whatever it was, it didn't sit well with me yet.

Today, I decide, I will venture out and walk about the town. See what is out there. I would normally drive if I had a set destination, but I simply feel like wandering. I have my cell phone with me just in case I get that call back though.

It's easy to see within even just a few blocks that this place has more bars, banks, and churches than anything else. Its kind of eerie. Not everything is in great repair either. Not exactly run down but not really up kept either. The only place that looked appealing was the local tattoo shop.

"I'm not sure what I expected to find but it sure wasn't this place." I said to myself as I stopped in front of the building. The window sported a huge decal of an intricate set of wings with the words 'Fly Designs' between them and some contact information.

I had to fight the urge to reach out and stroke the plume of a stray feather. It looked so real, so fluffy, and so beautiful that I wanted it in my hand. I couldn't help but walk through the door. And of course the bell above the door chimed when I opened it.

"Hey I'll be with ya in a second, okay?" Came a voice from the back. He sounded kind of raspy and strained. Like he's trying to stretch too far to grab something.

I was contemplating just leaving but instead called out, "Don't worry. Take your time." And of course I used that time to peruse his portfolios. One was full of the usual pieces; crosses, bull dogs, tribal works, birds, and so forth. The second had unique ones; portraits, scenery, hand prints, phases and the like.

Now, the third was a different story. None of the other tattoos he had done compared to the ones contained here. The first was of the wings on the window. They were done across a back so well sculpted that I almost believed them to be carved of stone.

These were his special cases. His very special cases. Beautiful work that seemed to crawl off of the skin of the recipients. And the skin these beautiful works were put on was amazingly perfect. I'm not sure if it happened before or after the artwork was placed upon it.

Finally the man came around the corner and into the main lobby. He didn't seem to be anything too special. Just a man of average height and build with medium brown hair and green eyes. He was dressed in jeans and a simple graphic t. Of course as is the supposed norm for tattoo artists, he is covered in tattoos. All but his face which had a few piercings.

How could such perfect and beautiful art come from such an average man? I intended to find out.

"Oh, there you are. What is your usual charge for a sheet sized tattoo of moderate detail on a shoulder? Only about, say, five colors?"

"Right to the point, no?" Now that I listened to him closer and his voice wasn't altered with the strain of, I assume, leaning over a client; it appears he has a deep cajun accent. Sexy. "I'd say, $70? Or somewhere in them parts. Hard to say for sure not knowin da design."

"You don't charge enough. Your work is precise and fine. You could easily charge $150 in the city for something of those specifications. Don't sell yourself short." He was pretty surprised at me. With good reasoning of course. Its not every day you offer someone a deal and get told it is too cheap.

"Sorry to tell you man, but not in this area you can't. And I aint got a mind ta move outta here. I like it here and they come back for more."

"I meant no offense I swear. I simply meant is as a compliment to your work. Its beautiful and something you would expect to cost a pretty penny."

"I only charge what I think they can afford here. And enough to cover my own ass. I like what I do and aint got no desire ta go higher, so to say."

"I see. Well, that makes sense. I have one more question for you, Mr. ... ?"

"Just call me Julian. Whatcha wanna know?"

"Well, Julian, what would it take to get a tattoo like the ones in here." I flipped open the third album to a picture of a raging fire blooming like a flower beneath a birch tree.

"That be a totally differn story, cher. That one'd cost ya a bit more. What ya thinkin bout?"

"I want wings. Not like those," walking over to the window I caress the plume on the window. "But I want something with that type of, how should I say, power behind it. Sketchy at the shoulder blades and getting more detailed down the back. I want the last bit to look as it is real, like its coming out of my back."

"That'd be in the range of bout $300 I'd say. Dependin on how much color I use."

"Sounds fair. When can you have a sketch ready?"

"Gimmie your number and I'll call you when I got somethin for ya?"

"Sure. Here," I wrote my number on the sheet he handed me and wrote 'wings' and my name beside it.

"Alright, Phoenix, I'll be talkin to ya soon. Now I gotta get back to the guy back there." He jerked his thumb behind him and ushered me to the door.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Well I don't know where that came from. And I don't know where I'm going to get $300 dollars either. Sitting back at my place in my boxers, again, and contemplating what I had just committed myself to I wait for the microwave to beep. Lunch time and I'm eating a T.V. Dinner. Such a feast.

"At least its something," I say aloud to break the silence.

"Talking to yourself isn't a good sign, Phoenix. You need to get out more."

I must have jumped five feet in the air. Aiden was sitting outside my window on the fire escape. "Damn it, man, you gave me a bloody heart attack! What are you doing out there?"

"Told you our apartments were linked by the fire escape." He gave me a funny look, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And you never stopped by. So, I decided to climb up to say hi." He cracked the widest smile I had ever seen. It was too cute.

"Your getting weirder every time I see you. Alright, come in then. Your blocking the breeze." And he was. The wind HAD been blowing in the window nicely, cooling my heated skin quite nicely. I missed it now I realized it was gone.

"So why haven't you stopped by? Did I freak you out or something at the studio?"

"No, no it's not that. I've just been too hot to venture out. I went out to walk the town today though. Ended up at Fly Design."

"Oh so you met Jewels? He's a pretty cool guy. Takes a bit for him to warm up though."

"Ya. His work is amazing. That third portfolio had me drooling. Got him sketching up a back piece for me."

"Very cool. Ya he does some great stuff. I've seen most of it in person. I see you've been keeping busy here in your chosen prison," he said pointing to my easel, where a portrait of John was half done. He had that look on his face from the studio.

"Ya, I couldn't help myself. He had this look of his face that was just, I don't know. Couldn't get it out of my mind. So that's where it ended up."

"It looks good. If you want to sell it let me know. Maybe my client will want it too. You never know, right?"

"Sure. I'm not the type to hang onto my work for long. Normally I just drop off a few pieces at a Goodwill or something when I make a new one I like better."

"I'll see what I can do. Oh! By the way, any news from the big guy yet? I told him to hire you asap."

"You did? Yeah, I haven't gotten a thing. Not an email, text, call, or anything. But I'm kind of used to it."

"That's weird. Huh." He started staring at me with this far off look in his eyes. Like he his mind was a million miles away. Right when it was getting strange he broke out another smile and said, "Alright, I've got an idea. Come by the studio tomorrow. Around three or so?"

"Ok. Why?" I couldn't help but laugh at this sudden idea of his. "I'm not sure I like that grin anymore. What are you up to?"

"You'll see. I've got a plan. I want to see you in that studio with me. You'd be good there."

"You sound pretty dang confident about that." I took a long second to look at him. He seemed to be doing the same. "Oh! I'm being a bad host again. You want anything to drink?"

"Nah, its cool. I just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out; go get coffee or something like that?"

Is it me, or did he just ask me out on a date? "Uh sure, I guess that would be alright. Though I'm not sure what there is around here for that kind of stuff."

"Oh no need to worry about that, I know just the place."

"Alright, let me put this crap in a tub and get some clothes on." So I stopped the microwave, put the food in a bowl, put that in the fridge, and went to get dressed. Since Aiden was in simple shorts and a t, I figured the same would be okay for me. Jean shorts and a green phoenix tee with a small silver chain and I was ready.

When I went into the main room, Aiden was standing in front of the easel, staring at my painting like it really was John. If I didn't know any better, I would swear they were holding a conversation. Strange.

"So where are we going?" I think I must have surprised him, since he jumped a bit and instantly spun to face me. I only caught a glimpse, but it almost looked as if his eyes were ... glowing! A not so subtle white glow, and the color had changed. Where once was caramel, now shone blue. Then he closed his eyes and blushed an attractive shade of red.

"Sorry, you kind of snuck up on me. I was thinking you'd take a bit longer."

"What were you doing over there?" I was trying to smile and act nonchalant but he might have seen through it.

"Oh, I was just checking out your technique. Nothing tells more about a painter than a work in progress." A smile lit up his face and it reached all the way into his eyes. "And, we are heading to my favorite haunt other than the studio."

"Don't forget the fire escape."

"What?"

"A favorite haunt? Because you were lurking there like a ghost?" He gave me this blank look as if I were speaking Spanish. "It was a joke."

"Oh! I get it now. Haha."

"Right. Well, you lead the way!" And with that, we left my apartment for a trip into town and a hot cup of coffee. I couldn't help looking over my shoulder as I walked out to make sure my portraits eyes hadn't moved. Thankfully, they remained as I left them; smoldering.