Tattoos of the Soul

“You sure you’re OK with this? There’ll be a lot of people looking at you.”

“I’m not afraid of them looking. I’m afraid of all those young girls. They’re really pretty and they’re so thin.”

“Just do like we practiced. They don’t stand a chance.”

He kissed her on the forehead as the announcer spoke.

“From St. Louis, and representing their studio, Tattoos by Thomas, comes Cassandra Livingston. The ink was done by her husband, Thomas. We haven’t seen his work here before. Let’s let both of them know how much we like it.”

“Here we go, Cassie. Knock ‘em dead.”

She let the robe fall from her shoulders and stepped through the curtain. All she could see were the bright stage lights and the flash of cameras. The applause began slowly as she stepped to the center of the stage. A murmur ran through the audience, and the applause grew. She was blushing. She could feel it, but she could feel something else, too. She could feel Thomas watching, urging her on, telling her she was the one.

With a big smile on her face, she threw back her shoulders to lift her breasts and slowly walked down the runway. The Celtic suns around each nipple seemed warm, but she knew it was just the bright lights. At the end of the runway, she paused, pulled the front of the bikini panties down a little more and slowly turned so the judges could get a good look at both her front and back. The two butterflies inside the heart on her belly were small, but very intricate, and she wanted to be sure the judges saw them. After another turn, she walked back through the curtain and into Thomas’ arms.

“They liked us, didn’t they?”

“I told you they would. There’s something really special about you, Cassie. I saw it a long time ago, and they did too.”

It was raining in St. Louis, like it rained every spring, a cold rain that knifed the chill through any kind of clothing. Cassandra shivered and pulled the blanket back over her body. Thomas had a habit of rolling himself into a cocoon at night. She supposed that was from years of sleeping alone. She scooted across the sheets and snuggled against the complex knotwork tattoo on his back.

The bed bounced slightly. Cassandra lay against Thomas and listened to the deep rumble of Hector’s purring. She felt a paw tap her face, then the soft brush of his vibrating side as he rubbed her cheek.

“Oh, you fat old cat. You can’t be hungry yet.”

“He’s always hungry. That’s why he’s so fat.”

“Well, he’ll have to wait just a little longer. I’m all warm and cozy, and I’m not getting up.”

“We have to get up, remember? The guys from the magazine are coming today.”

Cassandra yawned and scratched her breast. “Oh, yeah. What time was it? Ten?”

“Nine. What time is it now?”

“About seven. Oh, I asked Linda to if she’d like to ride in with us. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, of course not. She afraid to have her picture in the article? I’m sure they’ll want it.”

“Are you kidding? She’s been exercising for a month and got her hair done yesterday. She came over afterwards. She’s so proud of her hips and back. You really made her happy. Her daughter thinks she’s crazy, but the guy at the bank told her he thinks she’s exotic. I think they have a thing going.”

Hector wasn’t taking no for an answer. He rubbed his face against Cassandra’s nose.

“OK, Hector. We’re getting up.”

The magazine was in the newsstands three months later. On page forty-three was an article about the influence of Celtic symbols on modern tattoo designs and the artist whose work won the last Las Vegas Celtic competition. Cassandra and Thomas were pictured side by side, and there were pictures of Thomas’ artwork as well. Linda had a photo all by herself, as did a few of Thomas’ other customers. Hector even had a small photo. In part of the article, Cassandra and Thomas explained the meaning of some of the symbols and how the symbols were thought by the Celts to connect them with their Gods. The writer summarized the article with these final words:

“If we’re very fortunate, we meet someone during our lives who has the power to understand who we are and the talent to put that understanding into art that changes us forever. Thomas Livingston is such a man. His artistic talents are obvious, but there’s something else about him. My tats are nice and I like them. That’s why I got them in the first place. The tattoos he did for his wife, Cassie, their friend, Linda, and the others I interviewed hold an almost spiritual power for them. They are truly, ‘Tattoos of the Soul’.”

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Ronde.