Triquetra

…a one shot

“I still think you’re crazy,” Matt commented as he and his best friend Henley neared the dingy tattoo parlor that was situated next to their local diner.

Henley slapped Matt on the back of his head. “I told you when I turned eighteen I was getting a tattoo.”

“But ON your eighteenth birthday?” Matt asked incredulously, his tone now taking on a hysterical pitch.

“You didn’t have to come with me,” Henley reminded him as the pair finally reached the door.

Matt snorted. “Right. And get a call from your mom later telling me you died from blood poisoning. No thanks.”

Henley rolled his eyes but felt a little elated that Matt was so concerned about him. He stated, “Suit yourself,” and pushed open the door to the tattoo parlor, the bell jingling overhead.

Seated at the front of the parlor at a counter was a burly, muscular man with curly blonde hair pulled back by a red checkered bandana and wearing a white wifebeater. His bulging arms were covered in intricate tattoos.

Matt was intimidated, but Henley walked over to the counter deliberately. Matt followed slowly behind. Once at the counter, Matt saw the flat surface concealed by laminated papers of different tattoo designs. Matt peered at a particularly difficult-looking headshot of Kurt Cobain. He really, really hoped Henley wasn’t planning on getting anything like that permanently inked onto his body. Matt jumped when Henley finally spoke up.

“Hey man,” Henley greeted the man sitting at the counter.

The man closed the motorcycle magazine he’d been looking at. “What can I do for you boys?”

“I have an appointment to get a tattoo done at three thirty.”

“What’s your name, kid?” the man asked.

“Henley Fox.”

The man pulled a date book from beneath the counter and flipped to the proper date. “Yup. It says here Leann is supposed to do it, but she’s out with the stomach virus. You’ll have to settle for me, if that’s okay.”

“Sure thing,” Henley replied easily.

“Can I see some ID before we talk details? Sorry, I have to check.”

Henley nodded, pulling his wallet from his back pocket and removing his license. The man eye the license for a minute before handing the card back to its owner. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks,” said Henley as the man led him and Matt, who looked absolutely sick now after looking at the piercing chair for the last minute, to the back part of the parlor.

Henley took a seat in the chair the man indicated while Matt hung back a ways.

“I’m Rich,” the man finally introduced himself. “Leann’s my sister.” Matt had just taken to wondering what kind of family business tattoo art was when Rich addressed him personally: “You okay, son?”

The shiny tattoo needles Rich was now sorting through and sterilizing caught Matt’s eye. Matt nodded vigorously while Henley shook his head, smirking. Deep down, though, he couldn’t help but feel a little sympathetic; Matt did not handle needles well. “Matt, why don’t you go over to the diner and get us a seat? You can buy me a late lunch for my birthday.”

Matt nodded and gulped. “Call me when you’re done.” Matt wasted no time in backing up and hightailing it out of the parlor.

A little over an hour later brought Matt and Henley back together with Henley’s tattoo now complete. Henley joined Matt in the booth at the diner and grinned at his best friend who was sporting an expression mixed of apprehension and relief.

“What?” Henley finally asked, amused.

“…How did it go?” Matt asked.

“Good,” Henley answered. “I’ll show you later.”

“Why not now?” Matt asked.

“It’s on my shoulder blade.”

“Oh.” Matt gave no argument. Perhaps removing his shirt in the middle of an eating establishment wouldn’t be the smartest move on Henley’s part.

Matt paid for their food as Henley said he would earlier. The two drove back to Henley’s house in comfortable silence. His house was empty when they got there; Henley’s parents were still at work and his younger sister must have still been at soccer practice. His mom and dad knew he would be getting a tattoo, and since he was now of age, there was little they could do to stop him.

Henley led his best friend up to his bedroom. Once in his room, Henley wasted no time in unbuttoning his oxford shirt and throwing it to the side. “Ready?” was all he said.

Matt shrugged. Henley rolled his eyes again. “You’re going to have to unfold the bandage.”

Matt tried to stall. “Won’t it mess-”

“No, just don’t touch it,” Henley said impatiently.

Matt sighed. Henley turned his back to Matt as Matt got closer. Matt raised his hand over the white gauze and he gingerly peeled it away. Once it was almost all the way off, Matt took a good look at the tattoo. He saw three black interlocked spirals.

“Uh…” Matt began, “dude. What is it?”

“A triquetra.”

“A what?”

“A triquetra.”

“Oh-kay…” Matt said as he placed the bandage back over the tattoo.

“It’s a Celtic symbol,” Henley explained, turning back to face his best friend. “It stands for physical, mental, and spiritual trinity of soul.”

Matt looked at Henley like he’d lost his mind. Henley never talked like that. “Uh, why did you get that as your tattoo?”

Henley’s answer was immediate, his eyes fixed. “You.”

Matt paused. He stared blankly at Henley. “Huh?” he finally said intelligently.

“You,” Henley said again. “Physically, you make me want to throw you against the wall and ravish you until you can’t feel anything but me.” He ran a hand down Matt’s arm. “Mentally, you’ve got a grip on me so I can’t think of anyone else but you.” He ruffled Matt’s hair. “Spiritually. Well, you make me feel like no one ever has. You make me feel better.”

Matt gaped at him.

“I hope that’s okay,” Henley stated.

Apparently, that sentence was enough to shake Matt out of his reverie. It was now his turn to smirk as he pulled Henley forward but the belt loops on his jeans. He looked devious.

“Only if you demonstrate that physical part you told me about.”

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Notice:I came up with this at about 2:30 this morning, which is also around the time I started writing it. It took me about a half hour to forty minutes to write it, but I did editing and rewriting today to make it a little more coherent than the babbling I wrote this morning. A triquetra is probably the tattoo I would get if I ever got one. I think it’s the coolest design. Anyway, thanks for reading! Sorry if there are any typos or mistakes!