The Tattoo

by Gail Balentine

It was a perfect summer day, filled with sun and warm breezes. I had decided to break up my usual Saturday routine of errands and paperwork and steal an hour at the beach. Lucky enough to find a spot among the colorful blankets and chairs, I sat down to enjoy the novelty of being without chores.

When I turned to my right and looked at the woman lying next to me, the red rose tattooed on her ankle grabbed my attention. It was delicate, lovely and frightening, all at once. Although I admired it, my mind immediately ticked off the reasons why I’d never let a stranger mark my body for life. What if the needle wasn’t clean? What if I changed my mind later? What if ….? I turned away to look at the ocean but the tattoo drew my gaze back like a magnet.

“It doesn’t hurt much, you know.”

I jumped at the sound of her voice and raised my eyes to look at her face. She was smiling so I smiled back.

“I saw you looking at my rose. When I had it done I thought only I would enjoy it - I had no idea how many other people would like it, too.”

“How’d you know I liked it?” I said.

The woman laughed. “I’ve seen it many times. First comes the smile and then the furrowed brows as people silently tell themselves: Not me, I couldn’t do that.”

I laughed and nodded.

As she stood, the blonde lady asked, “Would you like to walk along the water’s edge for a while?”

I left my towel in the sand and joined her.

“My name is June,” she said.

“I’m Charlene.” We began to walk. “So, if you don’t mind my asking, have you ever regretted getting the tattoo?”

“Not for a minute.” We stopped short as two toddlers sprinted in front of us on their way to the ocean, followed closely by a harried-looking mother who mumbled an apology.

June paused to watch the children intently for a few minutes. When we continued walking her manner had changed to more thoughtful. “I was sick most of the time as a child and lived in the world of books. No running at the beach for me. I’m happy for them to have this time.”

          I thought about it a minute and replied, “Yes, these kids are lucky. My summers were filled with overnight camps and schedules. I don’t remember much fun. I remember rules.”

After a few minutes, still curious about the tattoo, I asked, “What was it that made you decide to get the tattoo?”

“About six years ago I suddenly realized I wasn’t happy or sad - I was stuck in neutral. I lived with my parents in my spotlessly clean room, brought home extra assignments, had few friends, and did nothing new. When, the very next day, I overheard a colleague describe me as “The Boss’ Kiss-up” to a new employee, that did it.”

“Did what?” I asked.

“I moved out of my parents’ house, stopped taking work home, and signed up for an Archeology class. A month later, when a friend from the class suggested we get tattoos, without hesitating I said Yes, just as I did when the guy I was seeing said Let’s try that roller coaster on for size!”

          I wondered what it would take for me to make so many changes? And what would happen if I did?

“Did you enjoy all those things?” I asked.

“My own place and less work at home, definitely. Archeology was fun to learn about. The tattoo, yes, the roller coaster, no.” She bent down and picked up a pink shell. “Charlene, for 25 years, whenever something new came up, my motto was: I can’t because. For the past six years, it’s been: Why not? And unless I come up with a very good reason, I do it.”

We turned at that point and headed back toward our blankets in silence, each lost in our own thoughts.

June gathered her things, hesitated before leaving, and then said, “Look, the tattoo has come to symbolize a transformation for me. It may be sky-diving or learning how to speak Chinese for someone else, I don’t know. But I do know I would have missed out on a lot if I hadn’t found the courage to try new things.”

With a smile she walked away, leaving me with much more than an hour by the ocean. My friends were always asking me to just try Sushi. I grinned as I dialed the phone, telling myself you had to start somewhere.

                                                                                                  *****