Page 10 of Time for Change

“Something small. It’s my first tattoo.”

“Do you have a design in mind or do you need a consultation for design work?”

“I know what I want. It’s a sun connecting with the moon with the words ‘Still I rise’ beneath it.”

“Ohhh, that sounds beautiful.”

“I have a picture of it on my phone,” I tell her, a bubble of excitement sweeping through me.

“Perfect. Just so I can note it correctly, are you thinking full color? A single color? Just black?”

I’ve already thought this through, ever since I decided to get my first tattoo, so my answer is easy. “Just black.”

“Well, that won’t take very long at all. You know, BJ had a cancellation Wednesday evening, if you’d like to take that spot. It’ll be her final appointment at six thirty.”

“Wednesday?” I whisper, suddenly overwhelmed with nervousness.

“If that doesn’t work, I can consult her schedule, but honestly, she’s about thirty to forty days out, unless we have cancellations.”

“No,” I find myself blurting out. “I can do Wednesday.”

“Great,” Amanda replies, the sound of tapping on a keyboard echoing through the phone line. “Let me get just a bit of information from you for the system. We accept cash or card.”

“Not a problem,” I tell her, knowing I have enough cash to cover the expense. I don’t splurge often, and with today’s tips added to my stash, I will be able to cover the tattoo.

We spend a minute going over a few personal details, and when I’m fully added into their system and have been given pre-appointment instructions, she says, “All right, you’re all set. We’ll see you at six thirty Wednesday evening.”

“Thank you.”

I hang up with a mixture of nervousness and excitement sitting in my gut. I’m about to get my first tattoo, and BJ is going to do it. I assumed I’d be making an appointment for weeks out, but maybe this is better. It doesn’t really give me time to stressor freak out. In a little over forty-eight hours, I’ll have my first tattoo.

I’ve had a lot of time to consider placement, and even went as far as to join a few tattoo forums online about a year ago. One particular group was of talented female artists who would make recommendations or suggestions for your design and where it would look best on your body.

It’s going to hurt, but I’m excited to see the design on my skin.

I spend the rest of my evening just hanging out. I have a television and a basic streaming service like everyone else, but I rarely watch it. Television was definitely not a luxury we had when I was growing up. My parents could barely pay rent most months. Television wasn’t even an option. That’s why I’m a huge reader. One of the first things I did when I moved here was get myself established with the library so I could check out books.

I make a small helping of angel-hair pasta, using only a portion of the marinara sauce in the jar and putting the rest of the unused sauce in the fridge for another time. Retrieving my book, I sit down at my two-seater kitchen table, eat simple marinara and pasta, and pick up where I left off. I enjoy just about every genre, including memoirs. This one is about a secret service agent who protected several former presidents, and while it all happened decades before my time, I find it fascinating.

Long after my meal is finished, my nose is still stuffed in the book. I flip off the lights and head for the bathroom, ready to wash the day off my skin. I forgot how much grease and grilled food sticks to you in a restaurant.

Finally, I slip into my flannel pajamas, grab my book, and climb beneath the covers, having turned off the overhead light on my way. A small desk lamp on my nightstand gives me justenough light to read, and also gives off enough that I catch sight of the small, framed photo on the dresser.

I’ve lived my whole life with the smallest circle you could imagine. I had two, maybe three, real friends growing up, mostly because I was never there long enough to get too comfortable. We moved a lot, thanks to my parents always using the rent money for something other than rent. Or food. Or electricity. But even now, I keep to myself more often than not. Sadly, family is not something I’ve learned to rely on. I mean, I’ve been out of my mom’s house for two years and have only talked to her twice. Both times, she needed money. At least my dad has called to check on me without needing something in return.

With a sigh, I turn on my side and open my book.

No, I don’t need anyone else. I’m doing just fine on my own. I’ll continue to learn and grow into the person I want to be, even if it takes a few missteps along the way.

I’m strong and capable.

I will not let my past define me.

I’ve got this.

Chapter Four

Jack

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