Forest
Forest got “the” stares as he
jostled himself and duffle bag down the narrow plane isle. It could have been because he was
exceptionally tall and lean? It could be his mohawk? He was pretty sure it was the tats. Nothing inked on his body was explicate or
lewd but two full sleeves of art was hard to miss when you where wearing a
T-shirt. He found his seat next to the window and situated himself for the skip
from Seattle to Salt Lake eventually getting to Vegas for a tattoo
convention. He pulled out his sketch
book and flipped through the pages to a drawing he was working out. It was an elaborate knot based from Celtic
design, his fascination and specialty.
He didn’t acknowledge the person that was settling into the aisle seat.
He chose unless forced, to avoid judgment and conversation on plane rides. Forest was not that chatty fellow excited to
lay out his life history, dreams and goals to a new pal. He was content with
getting his sketch just right. The
subtle perfume that was wafting off his travel companion completely distracted
him though. The fragrance seemed familiar and was very alluring. It was just strong enough to be smelled over
the cigarette smoker in the seat behind him. He dared and glanced up from his
sketch to catch a young woman unabashedly studying his work! She
had the most amazing eyes. Her thick dark eyelashes framed the sun setting on a
field of tall grass, pale green, gold and large. The girl gave him a cocky half
grin! “Hey” she said in a soft
whisper. “I’m digging your work.” She
pointed a long skinny finger to his notepad.
It’s not tribal, right? It looks
different from what I’ve seen of tribal tattoos. The vines worked into it! It’s the boss!” She was so petite and delicate, almost child
like except for those striking knowing eyes. The girl enthusiastically spoke in
that still hushed voice like they were little kids sharing a secret and it gave
him goose bumps. She traced the vines
interlaced into the knot work on his paper softly. Her manicured fingers were polished ivory with
tiny green leaves painted into the corners.
Forest took a little gulp and said “yeah I started out with your typical
dragons, skulls but am really drawn to the feel and look of this type of work.
It’s a take on traditional Celtic art. The pieces just seem to be waiting in my head
to be drawn out and used.” Forest
splayed his fingers down his bare arms demonstrating all the work he had
incorporated onto his body. The pixie
women took a closer look at his arms. She focused in on a knot design he had
found in a pagan art history book tattooed on his left forearm. She leaned over him her large mass of white
hair just under his nose and falling down to tickle his arm. She let those pretty nails trace over the
design hovering just above touching him.
Her perfume enveloped him making something inside of him loosen and
relax like sinking into your own bed after a long trip.
“O I just love good tattoos. I wish I had the guts to just go for it like
this.” She quickly let her fingers wipe
down his arm. She flung her hand back
from the static shock of the touch.
“Ouch I’m sorry” She gave a little laugh. “I’m Madge by the way” She put out her hand
and Forest took it carefully, her hand lost inside his large one. “I’m Forest.” Her shake was strong, confident and too brief. He wanted to touch her again and maybe not
let go. Madge looked him in the eyes
again and said “great name. I’ve always
had that on my potential children’s name list.”
She gave me a large smile and then I lost her attention to the stewardess
that began the safety spiel. He felt
flush and his palms were clammy. He had
crushed, loved, liked many a girl before but she was curling up inside of him
and he didn’t want to lose this feeling overcoming him. He pretended to draw and peeked at her as she
obediently listened to the plane exit strategies. He found her long nose turned up at the end,
big smile, the very white hair and of course those big doe eyes so cute. This typically aloof guy was falling into the
deep! What could he say next to keep her
talking? He was feeling so goofy! 6’2” lean, mean tattoo artist freaks don’t
get goofy. When the flight attendants
had made all safety methods perfectly clear Madge started rooting around in her
enormous leather bag. She pulled out an old worn hardback that was simply
covered in blue linen and gently placed it on the center seat. Jane Eyre,
interesting, he had been forced to read it in high school by a well meaning
English Teacher. Miss Styfer insisted it
would give us young men a little more depth.
Then Madge really got serious about finding an item hidden deep in the
bottom of her pack. Both her thick dark eyebrows
shot up triumphant when her hand found the item and pulled out a small
nondescript brown glass bottle. Madge caught
me watching her search for her buried treasure and said, “I always try to
remember to lube up before a flight all the changes can be so hard on your
skin.” She smacked out a generous amount
of lotion to her palm and that was the smell that had caught him. He frowned at Madge “what brand is that? It smells so familiar?” Madge eyes widened in alarm, “O gosh I hope
it’s not bothering you? I love the smell
and forget it may not be to everyone’s thing”
“No, no” Forest blurted. “I…I
really like it”, a flash of heat hit his face.
He let out an awkward chuckle embarrassed and grabbed the little bottle
off the arm rest looking for a label. “It just seems so familiar, what is
it?’
“You won’t find that at the drug
store. It’s my little treat to myself. I made the scent at a little perfume shop in
New Orleans. Don’t you just love New Orleans? It is familiar isn’t it? It gives me that grandmas baking cookies
feel, kinda takes me to a spiritual home.
A little bit of Jasmine, oak, honey, tobacco and a few other things,
very earthy. I’m not that kind of girl
that can have custom things, but I make an exception for this. This little bottle,” she whisked it out of my
hands “is my aromatherapy!”
She took a deep breath closing her
eyes her long hair fell forward around her face. The stewardess checked them to confirm that
they had fastened their seatbelts and the plane backed out of the
terminal. Forest tried again to go back
to his sketch as they shuttled to the runway, but when the jet engines wound up
Madge’s hand shot over into his lap and she flexed her hand for him to take
it. He dropped his pencil and took her
hand in both of his. He gently rubbed
his thumb along the back of her smooth wrist.
All the black eyeliner around her eyes only made the fear when they
squinted close look worse. She was
genuinely panicked. Forest could feel
her heartbeat in her wrist beating like a trapped rabbit. They bumped and jerked a bit but started to
climb into the air without incident, it wasn’t until they leveled off that she
opened her eyes and gave a half hearted smile to him. She started to pull her hand away and he
squeezed it tight one last time before he let it go. He liked being the fearless protector and
just wanted to pick her up and tuck her little body onto his lap and hold her.
Instead he picked up his pencil and
started a fresh sketch. He was inspired to try something floating in
his head and started sketching a cypress tree like the ones you would see in
her New Olreans, its many thick roots sinking into the water. Madge picked up her book and started looking
for the right page. “So Jane Eyre, have
you ever read it before?” Forest asked as he continued his sketch. “many many times I pick it up for trips and
read a few chapters. I may leave it for months, but always come back to it. My
fiancé found this first edition for our one year anniversary. I just love how strong she tries to be.” Forest’s pencil swerved off the page, fucking
fiancé it couldn’t be. His blood
pressure was rising! “When is the wedding?” Forest sighed. This fall only two months away, that’s why
I’m flying today. I’m heading into
Jackson to finalize a few things. Kane, my fiancé and I worked at a dude ranch
out there. I always fantasized about getting married in one of the aspen groves
the leaves turning colors and the Tetons blessing us.
His brain was like a radio only picking
up blaring numbing static. He hoped he looked normal on the outside continuing
his drawing adding the branches to the cypress.
“That does sound really nice” he finally managed to get words to come
out of his mouth. She started to read
her book again for a few moments but kept glancing over at him. “It sounded like you had read this? That would be so cool; most guys wouldn’t
touch something like this.” “I have read
it; have to admit it wasn’t my idea, high school required. What a crazy story though, I can’t believe he
had his nutty wife upstairs the whole time!”
“O yeah and then busted the very last minute. I just feel so sorry for her they keep
throwing her down and she just keeps coming back, what a champ.” Quite again, he started to put in the moss
that hung all over the tree’s branches the whole time his head screaming No, No
engaged. “So your engaged, how come no ring?”
Madge rubbed her engagement finger, “I am a potter and it just doesn’t
work but, I do have it on me” she pulled a long thick silver chain out of her
shirt and fondled a small ring for several minutes. She stuck his heartbreak back in her shirt letting
the necklace fall back into place over her heart and he felt crushed. He now
knew what Mr. Rochester was about. He too wanted to claim this girls thoughts,
her company, pure possessive need. O Mr.
Rochester I get it…now.
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