Page 77 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming
“It definitely pays to not rock the boat. Especially when the person you’re attacking is known to keep to themselves. Ms. Minerva didn’t bother anyone who didn’t bother her.”
“What would you say if I told you that I visited a psychic and she told me that I would meet the man of my dreams this year?”
Kofi smiles. “Is this man supposed to be me?”
“It’s possible. I guess it depends on how tonight goes.”
“Then I better make it count.”
He puts the name of a nearby park in the GPS.
He starts his car and exits the parking lot. They drive in silence for a bit, but Suchi’s quest for knowledge pops up again. “Why tattoos?” she asks.
Kofi keeps his eyes on the road.
He shrugs. “Why not? I’ve always enjoyed sketching and drawing, and the idea of the human body as a canvas was always intriguing.”
“Who was your first client?”
Kofi seems startled by the question but quickly recovers. “Oh, um, she was a cancer patient. Had a double mastectomy and got a victory tattoo for being cancer free.”
Okay, not sure what that was about, but whatever.
“Aww, I love that.” Suchi beams, ignoring his initial reaction … for now.
He parks the car, and they both exit, with Suchi heading to the swings. Kofi stands behind her and pushes her.
“Yeah, it’s one of those jobs where you have your repeat customers and newbies, so no day is ever the same. I love that about what I do. The people I meet and the stories I hear.”
“What happens when someone walks in and asks for a problematic tattoo?”
“I make sure that the environment of my shops is a safe one, even if it means I miss out on money. Just recently had a dude walk in and ask for a swastika on his neck.”
“Did he not realize he was asking a Black man for that?”
“The fucked-up part is, he didn’t care. The even more fucked part is that there are some niggas who would have done it.”
“I’m sorry, Kofi.”
He stops pushing her and looks at Suchi. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.”
“That’s sweet, Suchi.” He lets out a chuckle. “Sweet Suchi, that’s not a bad nickname.”
“You want to give me a nickname already?”
“I am the man of your dreams, right? Why wouldn’t I give you one?” Kofi grins.
“Fair enough.” She stands and takes Kofi’s face in her hands and kisses him. His lips are soft and pillowy. They feel like a dream she never wants to wake up from. She backs away and gazes at him. “Kissable Kofi.”
“I’m not mad at it, or that kiss,” he jokes.
“In that case…” She kisses him again.
He wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her back. They stand there, kissing, wrapped up in their own little world in an empty park.
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