My Soul Tattooed In Black- Part 5
My father likes to walk the gardens behind the Temple of Astridore shirtless in the summer and I remember sitting under a eucalyptus tree with him tracing all the gem-colored words on his torso. In the sunlight, his skin glittered with reds, blues, golds, and deep dark greens from the stones my Yiayia and Baba had struck into his skin over the years. Most of them dealt with seeking justice against rapists and murderers or blackmailing those who extort money from innocent citizens, but my very favorite tattoo on my father is the one that rest right over his heart.
“Tell me the story again daddy. Of this tattoo.” I said, tracing the curling script of my Yiayia’s handwriting. My father’s broad bronzed shoulders shook with laughter.
“I think you might know the story better than me now Sabrine.”
“Yes but I still like it when you tell it.”
He breathed deeply before he started, “I was in the market one day running an errand for your Yiayia when I saw her for the first time. She had chocolate eyes that looked like deep red sandstone in the sunlight and wild curly wheat colored hair that kept escaping its pins. I wanted to introduce myself so badly that day, but I had to get back home. Your Yiayia was giving me my next mission from Astridore that afternoon. So, I left without asking her name.”
“I think that’s funny.”
“What’s funny, dew drop.”
“That you didn’t ask her name.” Giggles fell from my mouth as Astridore told me she thought it was funny too. “It is kind of funny, isn’t it?” My father had on a contented smile while he turned his face toward the sun shining through the branches. My giggles subsided and I smiled up at Father’s relaxed countenance.
“Astridore thought it was funny too. She says she likes giving good missions the best.”
“Is that so my dew drop?” My father looked at me sideways. I think it worried him that Astridore already talked to me. My Aunt Irene didn’t start hearing Astridore until she received her first tattoo from Yiayia. “Yes! What happened next?” I bounced onto his lap and wrapped my arms fiercely around his neck, which caused him to laugh again.
“Alright, alright. So, I went home and your Yiayia had me lay down on a long high table as she fiddled around with the stones going ‘hmmm’ and ‘really that one too?’ Then she was standing over me ready to start, but before that happened she was running her hands over the skin of my chest.
‘Here, Right here, my boy is where your next one will be.’” My Father’s hand was covering his tattoo, right over his heart.
“When it was over your Yiayia gave me a mirror to see what had been written on my skin. Kalila. Your mother’s name was written right over my heart, but at the time I didn’t know any Kalila’s so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go back to the market the next day and talk the brown eyed girl. Low and behold the next morning after summoning all my courage I went and introduced myself and do you know what she said?”
“Yes, but tell me anyway.”
“She said, ‘Nice to meet you Alexander, I’m Kalila.” That is the only tattoo I want to get. The name of my love tattooed over my heart.
My legs give out and my beaten-down body crashes to the floor. The chain connected to my left wrist jangles and doesn’t allow my arm to drop with me. “We can’t get married. I refuse.”
“I don’t think we really have a choice.” I look at Cyrus again.
“A choice? I never had a choice anyway! But at least the way my family makes matches means that I’m with someone Astridore made just for me. I’m not there yet! I can’t marry yet!”
“And you think I want to marry you like this?” Cyrus’ knuckles turn white while he grips the bars to my cell. “I didn’t want this to be forced. I wanted to woo you, take you on walks through the market so people could see just how much I love you. Then maybe they would realize what a wonder you are. I wanted to spend too hot afternoons in the library or garden reading together, or going to the amphitheater in the evenings. I was going to wait until Astridore had your Baba put my name over your heart so you wouldn’t be so scared of us anymore. Then I was going to take you to the alley where we first met when we were both running away from things we didn’t want and recite poetry or flowery words to tell you just how much you mean to me and ask you to be my queen. I wanted that.” Cyrus’ body is shaking; his tears have stopped his voice from making any semblance of words and his eyes, Oh Astridore I never wanted to see him like this. His eyes have been flooded with sadness and tears don’t leave small tracks on his face anymore because the whole thing has been monsoon-ed with the force of his disappointment.
“Oh Cyrus,” I sigh. I force my body to scoot as close to the bars of my cell as I possibly can while my wrist is still attached to the wall. When I am as close as I can get, I reach my right hand out to Cyrus, hoping he will take it. “Even if the situation isn’t ideal, at least we aren’t alone.” Cyrus lets out an amused hiccuping laugh and sinks to the floor on the other side of my bars and reaches his arm through them to take my hand.
“We always could help each other through the more stressful situations our families put us through.” His grin is watery but at least a little of his normal sunshine has returned to his eyes.