The Ink of Time by Nadine M. Roth

Author:Nadine M. Roth [Roth, Nadine M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-05T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

Tom updated the plane’s logbook while Otto wiped down the plane’s interior. Working side by side, Tom said, “Otto, you ’bout ready to tag me with my seaplane? I’ve been waiting for you to get your license. Now that you know what you’re doing, I’ll let you at it.”

“You really want me to tattoo you? I thought you were just bustin’ my chops.”

“Yeah I do. I would do it myself, but I like how you made the seaplane look like it had my eyes. I don’t think I can do that.”

“If you’re sure, as soon as we’re done here we’ll get started,” Otto replied.

After they’d finished the work, Otto grabbed his tattoo kit from behind the seats of the plane and they went into the fishing office. Tom took off his shirt and Otto prepped the area. Otto wasn’t nervous. He knew what he was doing. Tom had taught him everything he needed to know. The rest was art. That was the easy part.

He drew in Haida style, creating a part-hawk, part-seaplane design. He drew a black-and-yellow seaplane with hawk’s eyes and wings. As he drew, the hawk’s eyes began to look more and more like Tom’s.

When the tattoo was finished, Otto took a picture of Tom’s shoulder. The tattoo turned out even better than the one he’d drawn on Tom with a marker a few months ago.

After the tattoo supplies were cleaned and put away, Tom and Otto grabbed fishing poles and headed to the end of the dock. Since spring was on its way, it stayed lighter outside a little longer each day and was getting warmer as well. Whenever the weather allowed, and sometimes even when it didn’t, the two men would fish for their dinners before heading to their respective homes for the night.

“Looks good if I do say so myself,” Otto said as they walked to the end of the dock.

“Yep. It’s a good one. Thanks, buddy.”

“Make sure you take care of that tattoo, Tom. I don’t want any of my work going bad,” Otto said.

“Aayup, I know the drill, you don’t have to remind me. Don’t let my arm rot off and ruin your work. Got it,” Tom replied.

Otto laughed while casting his line into the water.

The sound of the waves lapping against the dock and the gentle rise and fall of the platform had always been Tom’s rocking chair. He relaxed, dropped in his line, and said, “Otto, remember when I told you about that dream I had at the fishing camp, the one about the northern lights? I keep thinking about it.”

“The aurora was real active that night. No wonder you dreamed about it,” Otto replied.

“But it’s not the aurora that I keep thinking about. It’s that kid. I was a little kid in that dream. I know it was me—and the other kid, well, I feel like I know that kid too, but I don’t.”

“Maybe it’s someone you used to play with,” Otto offered. Tom set his hook and pulled in a nice-sized rainbow trout.

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