Tattoos: A Novel Read online

  I stopped, staring at my reflection in the glass window that had once been my room. I was a mess. My hair was tangled and bits of baby’s breath still clung in the strands of my new extensions. I didn’t have a stitch of makeup on, but as bad as I looked I was healthy, and that mattered more than anything as superficial as make-up and pretty hair. I stood gazing at my reflection, recalling all the times Jax and I had been cuddled in the hospital bed together, where our love was all that mattered.

  I was just about to turn and make my way to the nurses station when the curtain of my old room was drawn back. For a moment I thought I was seeing things. I pressed my face and hands to the glass. He pressed his face and hands to the other side. His thick hair was familiar, but his face was paler than I’d ever seen him. He wore a sickly green hospital gown and loose grey sweat pants. A clear intravenous tube trailed from his left hand to a bag suspended on a chrome IV pole. All the paintings of his tattoos were hung on every wall in the room. And I knew what his secret was.

  Knowing the truth made me wish that he’d been using drugs after all. Because I didn’t want him to be sick, not him, not Jax. How could someone as good as him get sick? Suddenly I snapped out of the trance I was in. I broke into a run, throwing the door wide. He opened his arms without a word, there were tears in his eyes. I fell into his embrace, sobs built in my throat and poured out, taking a piece of my soul with every sound.

  I felt his hands in my hair, on my face. Then his lips were kissing away my tears, and it only made me cry more.

  “It’s not fair Jax. Why did this happen to you…not you. It can’t be happening to you.” Every word that came out of me was separated by a gut-wrenching sob.

  “I’m so sorry. I tried to keep you out of this. Damn it Marilee I didn’t want this for you. You shouldn’t be here,” he said.

  I tilted my face to his, wiping at my eyes with the back of my hand.

  “Are you crazy? There’s no place else I could be. And I don’t appreciate you sneaking off…” My body shook with a mix of anger and misery.

  “She’s right Jax, she deserves to choose what she wants to do,” Gran said from behind me. I spun around. A lifetime of anguish rested in her face and it made my heart ache even more than before. Jax was all the family she had. I couldn’t even begin to fathom what she was going through.

  She moved toward me, stretching her arms out. I fell into them. She was smaller than I was, yet in her embrace I felt safe as if she had the power to fix everything. As if by sheer will alone she could make Jax better. I felt Jax’s hands on my shoulders. When I turned to face him I was ensnared in his gaze. He cleared the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs.

  “I understand if being here brings back too many bad memories…” His hands dropped to his sides.

  I half-smiled. “You’re right, I’ve had some of the most hideous moments of my life here, but also some of the best too. I met you didn’t I ?” I took his face in my hands. I realized that it was thinner than it had been before. How hadn’t I noticed that?

  “What can I say? I’m memorable.” His mouth curved into a tired smile.

  “What kind of cancer do you have?” I asked. My stomach twisted. The last thing I wanted was to know how sick he was. His odds could be horrible or good. I prayed it was the latter.

  “I’ll go and get us something to drink,” Gran said from behind us. “What would you like Marilee?”

  I turned back toward her. Even though it didn’t seem possible, more strain weighed in her expression. Grim didn’t even begin to describe her demeanor. It made me think that the news was bad.

  “Just a bottle of water, please,” I said. I didn’t really want anything to drink, but I sensed she needed to get out of the room, away from the truth.

  “I’ll have a Pepsi,” Jax said.

  Gran nodded and left.

  “Poor Gran,” Jax said.

  He took me by the hand and led me to the bed. Gone was my lilac and pink duvet, a plain white hospital issue cotton blanket was draped over the bed instead.

  Jax laid down on the bed. He pulled me down beside him then propped himself up on an elbow. I turned my body toward his, so we were facing each other.

  “She’s not taking this very well,” he said, sighing. “I can’t really blame her, she’s been down this road before.”

  “With your grandfather?” I asked.

  Jax shook his head. “With me.”

  My eyes popped wide. “What are you talking about?” I said.

  “I had Hodgkins Lymphoma when I was eleven. You know the whole routine, chemo, the works.” He rotated his hand for effect.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’d had cancer?” I asked. I’d thought I’d known everything there was to know about him, but I’d been so wrong. To say I was annoyed was an understatement.

  He shook his head. “It was a part of my life that I didn’t want to revisit. The less I thought about it the better.” He glanced down at the inside of his arms. I saw that he’d gotten a new tattoo. I hadn’t noticed it the day before because it had been hidden under one of the Band Aids. Positioned right above the tattoo of my face, the word MARILEE was tattooed in blue on the only space that had been left. Both the E’s were in the shape of survivor ribbons.

  “When did you get that done?” I asked, running my fingers over the tattoo that was old enough that there were no more scabs.

  He shrugged. A little while back. It was going to be a surprise, but I started feeling bad before I had a chance to show it to you.

  Then it dawned on me. “The scars that you didn’t want to talk about weren’t from drugs they were from treatment.”

  “Drugs?” His laughter filled the air. I appreciated every second of it because I didn’t know how many more times he’d be able to laugh like that. He locked his eyes on mine. “You seriously thought that I’d been using?”

  “Not now…a long time ago.” I felt a flush travel up my neck.

  “No wonder you were so interested in my scars.” He shook his head. “I’d have told you sooner if I’d known you were upset.”

  “To be honest I probably would have been happier to know that you were a reformed junkie than a cancer survivor.”

  “Really?” he said, his voice rising.

  I shook my head. “No, not really.” I paused. “Is it the same cancer, Hodgkins?’

  “No it’s called Secondary Acute Myeloid Leukemia,” he said. It meant nothing to me. He must have known by the blank look on my face that I had no clue what it was.

  “It happens sometimes after chemo treatment. You know the cure can cause a secondary cancer, it usually happens within ten years of the initial cancer.”

  “The treatment got rid of one cancer, but gave you another?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Then that could happen to me too?” I said, hating that I’d actually managed to steal his thunder. Instead of worrying about him, I’d inadvertently thrown myself into the mix.

  He shook his head. “I doubt it will happen to you. They know more now and they use different drugs, better ones, ones that I couldn’t afford…”

  “That’s why your Gran had to sell her house,” I said cluing in.

  He nodded, grief clouded his face, as if losing the house had been worse than being sick. Another question popped into my thoughts and was out before I could stop it from coming.

  “How are you paying for the treatment this time?” I asked. I already planned to talk to Mom and Harold about offering to pay for Jax’s treatment.

  A brilliant grin lit Jax’s face. “Now here’s where the miracle comes in. Or that’s how Gran likes to put it.” He pulled me closer until our faces were so near that I was inhaling the air from his lungs.

  “There was this patient, his name was Neil. This was actually his room before you came.” A look of reticence clouded his face.

  “Unfortunately he didn’t make it. His family set up this fund and this room is solely dedicated to people who have cancer who
can’t afford treatment. The weird thing is that I’m a little over the right age for this place, but because everyone knows me they kind of lobbied for me to be the first recipient.”

  “Meaning that everything is paid for?” I said. I was more than thrilled to know that Jax didn’t have to worry about hospital bills because even though we could have easily funded his treatment, I was certain that he wouldn’t have wanted our charity. This made everything so much easier and not only that, he was also at the best hospital in the city. I figured that alone increased his odds of getting better.

  “Gran says it’s Karma, you know all the volunteer work I do for the hospital,” he said.

  “You mean you never got paid to work here?” I said astonished.

  “Yeah,” he smiled. “I started volunteering because I knew what it was like to live through it all. I wanted to help some way. I guess just being here made me feel like I was making a bit of a difference.

  I shook my head. “Who would have figured that us having damn cancer nine years apart would have brought us together.” It didn’t make sense how life worked out.

  “Bad things can happen to good people, but good things can happen too,” he said, kissing my forehead.

  “Like you going into remission again,” I whispered.

  “Like me going into remission again. I know it’s early in the game, but so far the doctors are hopeful, we caught it early this time.”

  “Really?” I said.

  “Really. And despite Gran’s gloomy demeanor she knows I’m going to be okay, apparently she saw it in my hand…and she was right about you, so she’s got a pretty good track record with reading palms.”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” I said.

  At that very moment Gran walked back into the room, her arms were laden with drinks.

  “Expecting a bunch of people?” Jax asked. He stood up and moved toward his grandmother, relieving her of her load. He placed the half dozen bottles on the bedside tray.

  “Jackson, for goodness sakes you’re the patient here, start acting like it.”

  Jax scooped Gran up into his arms as if she was as light as a feather pillow.

  “Jackson stop that, for all that’s good and holy, you’ll pull out your IV.”

  Jax released a laugh that seemed to come from a place deep in his belly. At that very moment Max and Zeke strode into the room.

  “Well I guess that’s another way to flex your pecs,” Max, said arching an eyebrow.

  “Yeah that’s Jax, always got to show off for the ladies,” Zeke said, waggling his eyebrows.

  In that moment everyone in the room burst into laughter and me included. And I knew in my core that no matter what life threw at us we’d make it through. Like Jax had said, bad things happened to good people, but good things happened too.

  All I could do was hope that the good followed the bad, and that my love could get him through it all.

  Epilogue

  Since Jax and Marilee started the Peace Project a lot has changed. Firstly, while Jax undergoes treatment Luanne has taken over for him. She’s promised both Marilee and Jax that as soon as Jax is better they’ll be in charge again. Whether that happens or not remains to be seen, but for now that’s how everything stands. But props have to be given to Luanne for all her work and efforts. It seems she’s a natural at charity work, which I think is as much a surprise for her as it is for Marilee, Jax and even Harold. Luanne has managed to pin down more corporate sponsors in one month than most charities can do in a year.

  Harold has cut his hours at work and has decided to do something he’s always dreamed about doing but never thought he had time to do, Ballroom dancing. He and Luanne make quite the pair and in fact are going to compete in a few competitions. Yes they still look like a mismatched duo, but they don’t care they’re having fun.

  Luanne managed to get a lifetime supply of bird seed for Mrs. Mori and also had some of her origami pieces auctioned off at a charity function. It was enough money that Mrs. Mori got a modest one bedroom apartment on the Strip. Sherly moved into Mrs. Mori’s old place in the Tunnels. Compared to sleeping under the bridge, Sherly thinks she’s died and gone to Heaven. True to his word the owner of Electric Blue, mounted Fred Ginger’s saxophone in the club. Sherly visits often, gazing at the old pictures of Fred. She misses Fred, but she’s slowly moving forward.

  Lacy finished her GED and got a job working as a cashier at a gas station. She’s working part-time on getting her cosmologist certificate. The Peace Project is paying for the fees to the cosmology school, so Lacy can use her own money to get off the streets. She now lives in a rooming house with a couple of other girls, but she doesn’t plan on staying there for long.

  Emma is still a witch and dresses like a living doll. Some things never change.

  Tazleo has mostly stayed clean with only a few hiccups, nothing Gran couldn’t shake him out of. He has all the cable television he can watch and regretfully still collects balled up papers. He visits Jax two times a week at the hospital. It’s the only trips he’s made out of his apartment other than his rehab stints, as far back as anyone can remember.

  Max and Zeke continue to play gigs at the bar. A girl named Rani who is temporarily replacing Jax on vocals. They plan on making the band a foursome when Jax gets back. Max has even included a few love ballads in the set, not that Jax will actually ever sing them since they’re a bit cheesy, but hey it doesn’t hurt to dream.

  Joanna passed away a month after she was admitted to the End of Life facility. She went peacefully, nestled in a warm bed with food in her stomach, and someone to hold her hand.

  By all accounts Jax is getting better. He underwent a cycle of chemotherapy and is rocking the bald look. Recently he had a bone marrow transplant and it seems to have taken. His blood counts are getting progressively better, things are definitely moving in the right direction.

  Marilee remains cancer free. She graduated from high school and has enrolled in a local university and is working on her undergraduate degree. She plans on applying to law school after she graduates.

  She and Jax are still madly in love.

  Gran still tells fortunes when she isn’t preening over Jax at the hospital. All tea leaves, pendulums, tarot cards and divination tools, point to Jax making a full recovery. Life on the Strip keeps moving forward. Because in Gran’s words change is inevitable, all good times and bad times shift, you can only hope that the good lasts longer than the bad.

  The Peace Project

  Tattoos isn’t a story about dying, it’s a story about living.

  The Peace Project is just a work of fiction but it doesn’t have to be. Little things we do make more differences in our world than we know. Sow seeds of peace and if you’re lucky someone will copy you and a chain of peace might take hold. At the very least you will feel good for a few moments, at the most you’ll touch a life forever. Miracles do exist, I’ve seen a few happen. Angels are all around us, I’ve met one.

  You must be the change you want to see in the world~ Mahatma Gandhi

  HUMAN + KIND = PEACE

  My songs of Inspiration:

  Radiohead- Creep

  Clouds- Zach Sobiech

  Beverly Mahood- Ooh Child

  Labrinth- Beneath Your Beautiful(featuring Emeli Sandi)

  Rhianna- Stay(featuring Mikky Ekko)

  Pink-(Just Give Me a Reason) featuring Nate Ruess

  Sarah Brightman-

  Just about every song that she’s ever sung.

  She never fails to snap me out of a bad mood.

  Final Words

  I always said that I would never write a book that took place in a hospital, clearly I was wrong. Over the eleven years I worked as a registered nurse in a pediatric hospital on the Orthopedic unit, I saw a lot of kids come and go. Some of them were there for a flash, some were regular fixtures. Though I didn’t work on the Oncology ward I’d been present for more than a few diagnoses that sent children there, and they never failed to change me in some way.


  My deepest wish is that someday there will be a world where cancer doesn’t exist, and where children and so many others never have to suffer again. Until that day comes I will keep on hoping for a cure and cling to the belief that there is a better day ahead.

  Denise Mathew