cpatricia.blacknotice-第31部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　　〃Why　would　you　let　her　have　this　much　power　over　you？〃　I　asked。　〃So　much　that　you　would　lie　and　steal　and　premeditate　tampering　with　evidence？〃
　　〃Oh；　please　don't　let　me　get　arrested；　go　to　prison；〃　he　said　in　a　panicky　voice　that　would　win　him　no　acting　awards。　〃I　have　a　wife。　A　baby　on　the　way。　I'll　mit　suicide；　I　promise　I　will。　I　know　lots　of　ways　to　do　it。〃
　　〃Don't　even　think　such　a　thing；〃　I　said。　〃Don't　ever　say　that　again。〃
　　〃I　will。　I'm　ruined；　and　it's　all　my　fault。　Nobody　else's。〃
　　〃You're　not　ruined　unless　you　choose　to　be。〃
　　〃It　doesn't　matter　anymore；〃　he　muttered；　and；　I　was　beginning　to　fear　he　might　be　serious。
　　He　was　constantly　licking　his　lips；　and　his　words　were　sticky　because　his　mouth　was　so　dry。
　　〃My　wife　wouldn't　care。　And　the　baby　doesn't　need　to　grow　up　with　a　father　in　prison。〃
　　〃Don't　you　dare　send　your　body　to　me；'　I　told　him　angrily。　〃Don't　you　dare　have　me　walk　in　and　find　you　on　one　of　my　tables。〃
　　He　turned　to　me；　shocked。
　　〃Grow　up；〃　I　said。　〃You　don't　just　shoot　your　brains　out　when　things　turn　to　shit；　do　you　hear　me？　Do　you　know　what　suicide　is？〃
　　He　stared　wide…eyed　at　me。
　　〃It's　getting　in　the　last　pissed…off　word。　It's　a　big　so　there；〃　I　said。
　　　
　　　22
　　The　Pit　Stop　was　just　past　Kate's　Beauty　Salon　and　a　small　house　with　a　sign　out　front　advertising　a　psychic。　I　parked　next　to　a　beat…up　black　pickup　truck　tattooed　with　multiple　bumper　stickers　that　gave　me　broad　hints　about　Mr。　Pit。
　　The　door　to　his　business　instantly　opened　and　I　was　greeted　by　a　man　whose　exposed　skin；　every　inch　of　it；　including　his　neck　and　head；　was　tattooed。　His　body　piercing　made　me　cringe。
　　He　was　older　than　I　had　expected；　probably　in　his　fifties；　a　wiry　man　with　a　long　gray　ponytail　and　a　beard。　He　had　a　face　that　looked　as　if　it　had　been　beaten　up　a　few　times；　and　he　dressed　in　a　black　leather　vest　over　a　T…shirt。　His　wallet　was　chained　to　his　jeans。
　　〃You　must　be　Pit；〃　I　said　as　I_opened　the　trunk　to　get　out　the　plastic　bag。
　　〃e　on　in；〃　he　replied　in　a　relaxed　way；　as　if　nothing　in　the　world　was　off　kilter　or　worth　worrying　about。
　　He　walked　in　ahead　of　Ruffin　and　me　and　called　out；　〃Taxi；　sit；　girl。〃　Then　he　assured　us；　〃Don't　worry　about　her。　She's　gentler　than　baby　shampoo。〃
　　I　knew　I　wasn't　going　to　like　what　was　inside　his　shop。
　　〃I　didn't　know　you　were　bringing　anybody　with　you；〃　Pit　mented；　and　I　noticed　his　tongue　sported　a　pointed　silver　post。　〃What's　your　name？〃
　　〃Chuck。〃
　　〃He's　one　of　my　assistants；〃　I　explained。　〃If　you　have　a　place　to　sit；　he'll　wait。〃　'
　　Taxi　was　a　pit　bull；　a　brown　and　black　square　block　of　muscle　on　four　legs。
　　〃Oh；　yeah；'　Pit　was　pointing　out　a　corner　of　the　room　where　there　was　a　TV　and　a　sitting　area。　〃We　gotta　have　a　place　for　the　customers　to　wait　for　their　appointments。　Chuck；　you　just　help　yourself。　Let　me　know　if　you　need　change　for　the　Coke　machine。〃
　　〃Thanks；〃　he　said；　subdued。
　　I　didn't　like　the　way　Taxi　stared　at　me。　I　would　never　trust　a　pit　bull　no　matter　how　gentle　its　owner　said　it　was。　To　me；　the　mixture　of　bulldog　and　terrier　had　created　the　Frankenstein　of　breeding；　and　I　had　seen　my　share　of　tornup　people；　especially　children。
　　〃Okay；。　Taxi；　tummy　rub；〃　Pit　said　in　a　cooing　voice。
　　Taxi　rolled　over；　legs　in　the　air；　and　her　master　squatted　and　began　rubbing　her　stomach。
　　〃You　know〃…he　looked　up　at　Chuck　and　me…〃these　dogs　aren't　bad　unless　the　owners　want　'em　to　be。　They're　just　big　babies。　Aren't　you；　Taxi？　I　named　her　‘Taxi'　because　some　taxi　driver　came　in　here　a　year　back　and　wanted　a　tattoo。　Said　he'd　trade　me　a　pit　bull　puppy　for　a　Grim　Reaper　with　his　ex…wife's　name　under　it。　So　that's　what　I　did；　didn't　I；　girl？　Kind　of　a　joke　that　she's　a　Pit　and　I　am；　too。　We　ain't　related。〃
　　Pit's　shop　was　a　world　I　didn't　know　and　couldn't　have　imagined；　and　I'd　visited　some　very　strange　places　in　my　career。　Walls　were　covered　with　flash；　every　example　edgeto…edge。　There　were　thousands　of　Indians；　winged　horses；　dragons；　fish；　frogs　and　cultist　symbols　that　meant　nothing　to　me。　Pit's　Trust　No　One　。　and　Been　There　；Fucked　That　opinions　were　everywhere。　Plastic　skulls　grimaced　from　shelves　and　tables；　and　tattoo　magazines　were　placed　about　for　brave　hearts　to　flip　through　while　they　waited　for　the　needle。
　　Oddly；　what　I　would　have　found　so　offensive　just　an　hour　ago　suddenly　took　on　the　authority　and　truth　of　a　creed。　People　like　Pit　and　probably　much　of　his　clientele　were　outlaws　who　bucked　anything　that　took　away　the　right　of　people　to　be　who　and　what　they　are。　Out　of　place　in　all　of　this　was　the　dead　man　whose　flesh　I　was　carrying　in　a　jar。　There　was　nothing　countercultural　or　defiant　about　someone　dressed　in　Armani　clothes　and　crocodile　shoes。
　　〃How　did　you　get　into　this？〃　I　asked　Pit。
　　Chuck　began　browsing　sheet…flash　as　if　he　were　wandering　through　an　art　museum。　I　set　the　bag　on　the　countertop　by　the　cash　register。
　　〃Graffiti；〃　Pit　replied。　〃I　bring　a　lot　of　that　into　my　style；　sort　of　like　Grime　at　Primal　Urge　out　in　San　Fran；　not　that　I'm　saying　I'm　anywhere　near　as　good　as　him。　But　if　you　bine　bright；　more　graffitilike　images　with　the　bolder　lines　of　the　old　school；　that's　me。〃
　　He　tapped　his　finger　on　a　framed　photograph　of　a　nude　woman　smiling　slyly；　arms　provocatively　crossed　over　her　breasts。　She　had　a　sunset　behind　a　lighthouse　on　her　belly。
　　〃Now　that　lady　there；〃　he　said；　〃she　es　in　here　with　her　boyfriend　and　says　he's　giving　her　a　tattoo　for　her　birthday。　She　starts　out　with　this　little　itty…bitty　butterfly　on　her　hip；　scared　to　death。　After　that　she　es　back　every　week　for　another　one。〃
　　〃Whys〃　I　asked。
　　〃It's　addicting。〃
　　〃Most　people　get　more　than　one？〃
　　〃Most　who　get　just　one　want　to　tuck　it　somewhere；　usually　out　of　sight。　Like　a　heart　on　a　butt　or　a　boob。　In　other　words；　that　one　tattoo　has　special　meaning。　Or　maybe　the　person　got　it　when　they　were　drunk…that　happens；　too；　but　not　in　my　shop。　I　won't　touch　you　if　you　smell　like　booze。〃
　　〃If　someone　had　one　tattoo　on　his　back　and　nowhere　else　on　his　body；　as　best　I　can　tell？　Important？　Maybe　something　more　than　bravado　or　being　drunk？〃　I　asked。
　　〃I'd　say　so。　The　back's　a　place　people　see；　unless　you　never　take　your　shirt　off。　So　yeah；　I'd　say　it　probably　meant　something。〃
　　He　looked　at　the　bag　on　the　countertop。
　　〃So　the　tattoo　in　there　came　from　the　guy's　back；〃　he　said。
　　〃'No　round　yellow　dots；　each　one　about　the　circumference　of　a　nailhead。〃
　　Pit　stood　still　and　pondered　this；　his　face　screwed。up　as　if　he　were　in　pain。　。
　　〃Ibey　got　pupils；　like　eyes　would？〃　he　asked。
　　〃No；〃　I　said；　glancing　at　Chuck　to　see　if　he　was　in　range　of　our　conversation。
　　He　was　sitting　on　a　couch；　flipping　through　a　magazine。
　　〃Gosh；〃　Pit　said。　〃That's　a　hard　one。　No　pupils。　Can't　think　of　anything　without　pupils　if　it's　an　animal　or　bird　of　some　kind。　Sounds　to　me　you　aren't　talking　flash。　More　likely　it's　custom。〃
　　He　swept　both　hands　over　his　shop；　conducting　his　own　orchestra　of　outrageous　design。
　　〃Now　all　that's　sheets　of　flash；〃　he　said；　〃as　opposed　to　a　tattoo　artist's　original　work；　like　Grime。　I'm　saying；　you　can　look　at　some　tattoos　and　recognize　a　particular　style。　No　different　than　Van　Gogh　or　Picasso。　For　example；　I　could　spot　a　Jack　Rudy　or　Tin　Tin　anywhere；　most　beautiful　gray　work　you'll　ever　see。〃
　　Pit　led　me　across　the　shop　into　what　looked　like　a　typical　examining　room　in　a　doctor's　office。　It　was　equipped　with　an　autoclave；　ultrasonic　cleaner；　surgical　soap；　Biowrap；　A　&　D　ointment；　tongue　depressors　and　packs　of　sterile　needles　in　big　glass　jars。　The　actual　tattooing　machine　looked　like　something　an　electrologist　would　use；　and　there　was　a　cart　with　squirt　bottles　of　bright　paints　and　caps　for　mixing。　Central　to　all　this　was　a　gynecological　chair。　I　supposed　stirrups　made　it　easier　to　work　on　legs　and　other　parts　of　the　body　I　didn't　want　to　think　about。
　　Pit　spread　a　towel　on　a　countertop；　and　we　pulled　on　surgical　gloves。　He　switched　on　a　surgical　lamp；　pulling　it　close　as　I　unscrewed　the　lid　from　the　jar；　my　nose　instantly　assaulted　by　formalin's　acrid　bite。　I　dipped　into　the　pink　chemical　and　pulled　out　the　block　of　skin。　It　was　rubbery；　the　tissue　permanently　preserved；　and　Pit　took　it　from　me　without　pause　and　held　it　up　in　the　light。　He　turned　it　this　way　and　that　and　looked　at　it　through　a　magnifying　glass。
　　〃Oh；　yeah；〃　he　said。　〃I　see　those　little　suckers。　Yup；　there's　claws　holding　on　a　branch。　If　you　kinda　lift　the　image　out　of　the　background；　you　can　see　the　tail　feathers。〃
　　〃A　bird？〃
　　〃It's　a　bird　all　right；〃　he　said。　〃Maybe　an　owl。　You　know；　it's　the　eyes　that　jump　out　at　you；　and　I　think　they　were　bigger　than　this　at　one　time。　The　shading　gives　it　away。　Right　here。〃
　　I　leaned　closer；　his　gloved　finger　moving　over　the　skin　in　brushstrokes。
　　〃See　it？〃　No。
　　〃It's　very　faint。　Eyes　have　dark　circles；　like　a　bandit；　sort　of；　kind　of　uneven；　not　very　skillfully　drawn。　Someone　tried　to　make　them　a　whole　lot　smaller；　and　there's　stripes　radiating　out　from　the　edges　of　the　bird。　You　wouldn't　notice　it　unless　you've　worked　with　this　sort　of　thing　before；　because　all　of　it's　so　dark；　you　know；　in　such　bad　shape。
　　〃But　if　you　really　scrutinize；　you　can　see　it's　darker　and　heavier　around　the　eyes；　for　lack　of　anything　to　call　them。　Yup。　The　more　I　look　at　it；　I　think　it's　an　owl；　and　the　yellow　dots　are　a　messy　attempt　to　cover　them　up　by　turning　them　into　owl　eyes。　Or　something　like　owl　eyes。〃
　　I　was　beginning　to　see　the　stripes；　the　feathers　in　the　dark　shading　he　was　describing；　and　the　way　the　bright　yellow　eyes　were　lined　with　dark　ink　as　if　someone　had　wanted　to　make　them　smaller。
　　〃Someone　gets　something　with　yellow　dots；　doesn't　want　it　anymore　arid　has　something　else　put　on　top　of　it；〃　Pit　said。　〃Since　the　top　layer　of　skin's　gone；　most　of　the　new　tattoo…the　owl…came　off。　I　guess　the　needles　didn't　go　in　as　deep　on　that　one。　But　they　went　in　real　deep　with　the　yellow　dots。　A　lot　deeper　than　necessary；　which　tells　me　two　different　artists　are　involved。〃
　　He　studied　the　block　of　skin　some　more。
　　〃You　can　never　really　cover　up　an　old　ta