Page 134 of Damnation
I don’t know what to do or where to go. Staying here doesn’t make sense anymore. Going home is out of the question. I was serious when I told Tiffany that I needed to get away from Corvallis for a little while. Now, after what I’ve learned, it’s the last place I want to be.
I read the departing flights board and see a number of exotic destinations where it would be easy to leave it all behind. I see the names of several other U.S. cities and then… Of course, Vancouver! Alex and Stella must be back in Vancouver by now after their trip to New York. There’s no direct flight, but with a short layover in Seattle, I could be there in five hours. Before we parted, Alex promised me that I could reach out to him whenever I wanted. And, right now, Alex seems like the closest thing to family that I’ve got.
I call him and tell him somewhat confusedly that the meeting with my father went badly and that I really don’t want to go back to Corvallis. Before I even have a chance to ask, he’s booking a last-minute plane ticket for me. Not to Vancouver, like I was expecting, but to Phoenix, Arizona, where Stella’s grandparents live.
When the loudspeakers announce that my gate is open, I get in line with my stomach still roiling, my heart torn into pieces, and the sad realization that I’ve finally found the answers that I’ve been looking for all these years.
***
Time’s up here in Phoenix after three weeks. Tomorrow, Alex and I are taking a flight back to school. I don’t know if I’m really ready. The first few days here were a parade of depression, pain, new anxiety attacks, and sheer confusion. I suddenly felt like I no longer belonged to anyone.Like the family that raised me had been snatched right out of my hands, forever. I felt alone, truly alone.
My thoughts often returned to Thomas. The most self-destructive part of me kept insisting that, despite everything, he was the only person I really wanted to be with at this moment. But I stayed strong. I resisted the urge to call him again. I forced myself to remember that, if I was making a list of people who have disappointed, wounded, and betrayed me, he would be right at the top, and for that exact reason, he can never come back into my life again.
Alex, Stella, and her entire family have been so wonderful to me. I probably wouldn’t have made it without them. They stood by me, welcoming me unreservedly, but they also knew how to accommodate my need to be alone when I chose to stay up in my room. Even Tiffany did everything she could to help me through this hard time via phone calls and video chats. Maybe it was their love, the knowledge that I wasn’t really as alone as I feared, or maybe it was the approaching new year and all that comes with it. Either way, after those first days when I felt drained of all feeling, I started to realize that I had to take my life back. It wouldn’t be easy, but I owed it to myself.
So I steeled myself and began to fight a little more each day until, eventually, I found myself watching a movie with Alex and Stella, laughing and joking in what was a real moment of lightheartedness. It was the same lightheartedness that I felt during a family Christmas dinner at Stella’s grandparents’ house, or when Stella and I spent a whole afternoon working out with a punching bag. I was shocked at just how much built-up tension I was able to release. It was exactly what I needed.
Today, for our last day in Phoenix, we’ve decided to walk around the downtown area, which is full of stands offering just about everything: food, clothing, antique furniture, even a body-painting station. But it’s the stand set up for tattoos that catches my eye.
I stop, charmed by the designs with thin elegant lines as well as the ones in the old-school style. Enthralled, I say instinctively, “I want one.”
“You want what?” Alex asks, giving me the same gobsmacked expression as he did when he first saw my new haircut.
“A tattoo,” I say again, more decisively. Seeing his uncertain face, however, I begin to question my choice. “Is that crazy?”
“Not at all,” Stella answers for her boyfriend. “You know what they say, don’t you? ‘A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.’”
“Oh God,” Alex says, rolling his eyes. “Ever since we watchedWilly Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, she’s been obsessed with Willy Wonka.”
“He’s a marvelous character!” I exclaim.
“He’s a crazy person,” Alex says.
“Still marvelous, though,” I answer him with a smirk.
“So a tattoo?” Alex says, getting back on topic.
I nod.
“And what if you regret it?”
“That’s not going to happen. Listen, this is our last day of break, and I know when we go back to Corvallis tomorrow, I’m going to have deal with everything I left behind because all my problems are still there. But right now I feel so good, and I want to remember this feeling forever.”
“Come on, don’t be a wet blanket, Alex!” Stella echoes, grabbing his arm and shaking it a little bit.
“Okay, okay, I’m done,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. “After all, you have to screw up sooner or later.” He claps his hand on my head, messing up my hair in the way he always does, then nudges me toward the stand.
We examine the drawings on display. I ask about their meanings, but in the end, I let my instinct guide me to a drawing of a rose with all its thorns. It’s the mixture of passion and torment, the tattoo artist explains to me, because, sooner or later, lovers always suffer.
“Where do you want it?” the tattoo artist asks me, after letting me into the chamber next to the stand, where there’s a bed covered in sterile paper and all the necessary supplies. Alex and Stella have to wait outside for reasons of hygiene.
“Honestly, I haven’t thought about it yet. Any advice?” I take off my coat and lay it on a chair while he arranges everything he needs on a tray next to the bed and slightly personalizes the design. The tattoo artist examines me closely. I don’t see any leering, just professionalism.
“You’ve got a good body. We could really do it anywhere. A lot of people have been getting them between their breasts lately, but it’s pretty painful. Since this is your first time, I don’t recommend that.”
“That’s where I want it,” I say decisively. Pain doesn’t scare me anymore.
“All right, then. Come on up.” He pulls on his sterile gloves, inserts ink into the gun, and sets it on the steel tray.
