Satisfied that she had planned the family outing as best she could, Lori checked that the kids were alright then turned her attention to her business emails. Since she had had her children, Lori was more selective about which commissions she accepted. There were a few “regular” clients who she always accepted but then, now and again, Jason would send something a bit different her direction. One such email from the Englishman caught her attention and within moments Lori was immersed in the artist’s bio and had opened the accompanying music files.
Thoughts of lesson plans and potential structures occupied Jake’s thoughts as he drove back into town. Talking to Dr Jones had helped to clarify the expectation but hadn’t really given him a huge amount to work with. He had harboured a hope that his late friend had submitted a synopsis of the course or a lesson plan. Hearing that the principal had trusted Rich and also trusted him had been reassuring. As he reached the start of the main avenue into town, Jake wondered if he should keep it really simple- get the group to write five songs then take them out to JJL in the hope of recording them. If the idea worked, the songs could be compiled into a CD that could be sold to raise funds for the school’s music department.
Feeling a little more confident about running the two-week workshop, he allowed himself to relax and think about his imminent appointment with Danny, his tattoo artist. Conscious that he was ten minutes late, Jake parked the truck at the back of the small tattoo parlour then loped round to the front of the shop. The gentle tinkling of the shell wind chime announced his arrival and, before he could offer up his apology, Danny looked up and said, “You’re late, Jake.”
“Sorry, Dan,” he said contritely. “I was at a meeting out at the high school. Things over ran and the traffic didn’t help.”
“Well, you’re in luck. My next appointment rescheduled so you have my undivided attention for two hours if you need that long.”
“This won’t take that long,” promised Jake with a sad smile. “I just want to add something small but personal.”
“Oh, in a “personal” place?” quizzed the diminutive ink artist, recalling being asked to tattoo a horse shoe on Jake’s butt cheek a few years before.
“Don’t get your hopes up!” laughed Jake, removing his t-shirt. “I need to find a space to add a symbol.”
“Explain this “symbol” to me,” said Danny, admiring Jake’s well-muscled torso. “It’s not more feet, is it?”
“No,” replied Jake, glancing down at the two sets of baby footprints on his forearm. “No babies. I’m looking to add two crossed arrows.”
“Arrows?”
“It’s the Native American symbol for friendship,” explained Jake quietly. “I wanted to add something for Rich.”
“Ah,” sighed Danny, immediately understanding. “I was sorry to hear about that. Poor guy. Liked him a lot. Regular client. Funny you should mention symbols. He’d emailed me a few weeks ago with ideas for new ink. That was all symbols too.”
“It was?”
“Here,” said Danny. “Let me show you. Might help you decide what you want to add.”
“No, you’re good,” answered Jake, not ready to see the designs his friend had chosen. Fishing his phone out of his jeans’ pocket, he found the screenshot he’d saved of the basic arrow design. “No frills, Dan. This is personal.”
Nodding, the tattoo artist asked simply, “Where?”
“On my chest? Could balance out the Celtic knot,” proposed Jake. “Unless you have a better idea. And don’t say my other butt cheek!”
“What size did you have in mind?”
“Small. Couple of inches across.”
“Chest would work. Will make the diameter match the knot. Keeps the symmetry,” agreed Danny. “Let me take some measurements and draw up a template. Choose your throne?”
As usual, Jake elected to sit in the middle chair. The tattoo artist was a quick worker and within fifteen minutes had the dimensions agreed and had produced three basic designs for Jake to choose from. He had varied the detail on the arrows slightly but had retained the traditional Native American feel to them. Sensing he was up to something, Jake said calmly, “Which of these is from the designs Rich sent you?”
“Who says any of them are?”
“Dan! Cut the crap,” stated Jake firmly.
“The second one.”
Staring down at the three designs, Jake had to admit to himself that the one he was instinctively drawn to was the second one. Discarding the other two, he handed the template back to Danny.
“Go for it.”
Half an hour later, with the fresh tattoo safely covered over, Jake slipped his t-shirt back over his head.
“Am I going to see Paul and Grey in here for one of those?” enquired Danny, recalling that all the members of Silver Lake had the same Celtic knot tattoo.
“I wouldn’t rule it out,” acknowledged Jake with a grin. “I’d hang onto that template if I was you, just in case.”
It was mid-afternoon by the time Jake parked the truck under the tree in the driveway. The temperature had soared into the nineties and, as he stepped down from the air-conditioned cab, the heat hit him like a fiery blast. He could hear the kids squealing and giggling round the back of the house and smiled. He loved that noise.
“Daddy!” shrieked Melody, running straight towards him as he stepped up onto the deck.
“Hey, Miss M,” he said, swinging her up into his arms. “That’s quite a welcome.”
“I’ve missed you. You’ve been gone all day!”
“Sorry. My appointments took longer than expected.”
“Daddy,” interrupted Jesse, tugging at his leg. “We play on the beach? Please?”
“Let me get changed then we can play for a while,” agreed Jake. “Have you both got plenty of sunscreen on?”
“Mommy!” bellowed
