Amazon Ink

Chapter Fifteen

Once on the street I let out a breath. Just what I needed, Detective Reynolds poking around the shop while Zery and company were doing whatever the hell they would be doing today. Maybe if I were lucky, they’d have brought up a team of horses and be jousting or something.

That would be fun to explain.

Maybe I’d just go for the truth. Detective Reynolds, meet my old friend Zery, the Amazon Queen. I know she looks thirty, but really she’s pushed past ninety. And don’t mind Bubbe over there in the corner-she’s just calling up a serpent to guard her prized collections of animal parts and hunks of stone. And Mother? She wouldn’t hurt anyone with that broadsword-at least not today. After all, it isn’t that “time of the month” just yet.

Yeah, good times.

Mumbling to myself, I looked for an excuse to hang out-out of view-and see how long the detective stayed in the tavern and where he went next. A book/crystal shop across the street offered the best solution and, as a bonus, it doubled as a coffee shop.

I wandered in, bought a coffee, and plopped myself down at a table near the window. I had barely got my coffee to proper drinking temperature when Detective Reynolds and his companion stepped out onto the street. I pulled back, letting the purple gauze curtains disguise my presence, but my caution was unnecessary. Reynolds and his friend made a hard right, back toward Frances Street where they, like I, had most likely left their car.

I wandered out of the shop, keeping enough distance between myself and the pair that I could play at coincidence if caught. (Not that I thought the detective would buy that excuse, but he wouldn’t be able to disprove it either.) One block down, they climbed into an unmarked car, did a U-turn, and left.

I walked over to a park bench and sat down. I’d said I’d be back at my shop today. I hadn’t said when.

I took a sip of coffee and let the caffeine roll through me. It was lunch hour on a warm October Monday, and State Street was busy with state employees and university students resisting the work week by stretching their lunch break as much as possible. I tilted back my head and closed my eyes, let the sounds and smells of State Street encompass me.

The downtown area was one of the reasons I’d picked Madison. Like Dana and her friends, Zery and I used to come here back in our younger days-the late 1960s, so not that young for me, but still a lot younger than I felt now. Our hangout of choice had been about a half mile southwest, off Mifflin, home of counterculture and all things anti-establishment. A dream for an Amazon looking for a no-commitment fling.

Zery and I had been friends before that too. Our families seemed to wind up at the same camps a lot. We’d first met in Texas when I was ten and Zery was seven. A hurricane had destroyed a safe camp there, and Bubbe was called in to help with cleanup. We had met off and on every decade since then, surviving everything from the Great Depression to disco. And we had always been friends, always found a place and a way to be ourselves, to have some fun no matter how horrid things were in the human world at the time. But here in Madison, those had been some of the best times-the last few years before Zery started her queen training in earnest.

When I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend I was there again, when things were simpler and no one but me was dependent on my actions.

“You spilled.”

My eyelids flew open. A boy not much older than Harmony, and decidedly too clean-cut to have walked out of my daydreams even with the diamond stud he sported in the tip of one ear, pointed at the brown circle of coffee developing on my leg. “Crap.” I grabbed the paper coffee cup that had lurched to one side and placed it on the ground under the bench.

“Here.” He pulled a napkin from a white paper bag.

I started to wave it off, but realized most people probably objected to walking around with coaster-sized coffee stains on their clothing. Me? I was more disturbed by the loss of my brew.

“Thanks.” I began dabbing at the spot in what I hoped was a convincing manner. When the damp denim was properly coated with paper fuzz, I wadded the napkin into a ball and retrieved what was left of my coffee.

The boy sat down beside me and began pulling lunch from his sack.

It seemed rude to immediately jump up and leave. I sat there, sipping my drink and wondering how long I needed to stay for pretense’s sake.

After a few minutes he finished with his sandwich and flipped open a notebook. Without saying a word, he began sketching.

This was the obvious time to leave, but what he was drawing kept me in my seat. Tattoos. Or what would have made great ones.

“You’re an artist?” I asked.

He looked up, his eyes rounded as if surprised I was still there. “I guess. I play at it.”

I nodded at the stylized version of a badger. “That looks like a tattoo.”

“Really?” He looked pleased with my observation. “A buddy wanted a tat, but couldn’t find one he liked. I said I’d draw something for him.”

“Badgers are pretty popular around here. I wouldn’t think he’d have a problem.”

“Yeah, if you want a cartoon wearing a red sweater with a big W on the front. He didn’t.”

“Oh.” I glanced at his drawing again. “You did a good job capturing the…” I searched for a word. If I’d been talking to an Amazon, it would have been easy. What he’d done was capture the essence of what a badger was: their wild aggressive nature that made the small animal formidable, made bigger creatures-including men-fear it. I reached out a hand, then pulled back, realizing what I’d been about to do.

I had to stop seeing powers everywhere. First with Peter, now this random boy.

“Are you into art?” He lowered his pencil and looked at me, genuine interest on his face.

“You could say that.” I paused, feeling strange telling him too much about myself…old habits I needed to get over. “I own a tattoo shop. Mel’s.”

“Really? I’ve heard of you.”

He looked impressed. My head swelled a little.

“Thanks.” Lame response, but I wasn’t used to compliments…at least his tone had made it sound like a compliment.

“You don’t know…” He stopped, looked down at his drawing and twiddled his pencil, hitting it softly against the paper.

“What?” I took a sip of coffee and tried to look supportive and not nosy.

“It’s just I’ve been trying to get on at one of the tat shops down here. Just cleaning up, working the desk, stuff like that. Eventually I’d like to apprentice, but I realize that could take awhile. I could do Web work, whatever they needed until they thought they could trust me.” He added a line to the badger’s snout-a small mark that somehow added another dimension to the creature, showing not just his aggression, but his determination.

All animals had multiple aspects. How the artist chose to depict them could make all the difference in the power the totem enhanced in its owner-in Amazon art, that is-but what I was looking at was just a drawing, a human drawing.

He looked up. “Anyway, I was wondering if you knew someone who might be willing to give me a shot-just sweeping up and stuff to start.”

He was so damn eager. Made me think of the first time I realized I had a talent for art, finally had something of my own. I’d trailed every artisan I could find until one finally agreed to just let me watch her work. I’d just wanted a chance to learn.

That’s all he was asking for too, and he’d do the grunt work to get that chance.

“I just might.” I pulled a business card from my pocket. “Stop by and ask for Mandy. She’ll have some paperwork for you to fill out.”

He stared at the white rectangle like I’d handed him the key to the city. “Really?”

“Really.” Then I picked up my cup and stood to leave. “Oh, what’s your name?”

“Nick. Nick Johnson.”

“See you tomorrow, Nick Johnson.” I left feeling like I’d done something good, for him and for me. Another step away from my Amazon hang-ups; now not one but two men would be working at my shop. How free-minded was I?

The rest of Monday passed; I did some routine tattoos, worked with Mandy a little, and closed up. To my relief, Detective Reynolds didn’t make an appearance. After work I went to the gym and told Zery what I’d learned at The Tavern, but I didn’t mention seeing the detective there. Our deal had been that I’d talk with him, not that I’d tell her every time I did. Besides, she was already battling the pressure of the tribe’s suspicions of me. If she learned the police shared the view…well, there was no reason to go there. My time with Zery cost me, though. I missed hearing what happened at Harmony’s art class. She was in bed by the time I returned, but with my daughter I knew the “no news is good news” adage held true. If she hadn’t liked the class, she would have sought me out and made sure I knew.

I didn’t get a chance to talk with her the next morning either. Before Harmony had even rousted herself from bed, a muffler-less compact chugged into the parking lot. I knew without looking it was another Amazon arriving. You just didn’t see a lot of vehicles two door-dings from a life on blocks rolling around Madison. You did see them at Amazon safe camps. It was about all you saw there.

Wondering who the newest arrival might be, and not wanting her to wander into the shop by mistake, I jogged down the fire escape and waited for the vehicle’s motor to slow to blessed silence.

Dana unfolded from the driver’s seat. She stopped to jerk a very large duffel out of the seat beside her, then another. I could see more duffels and bags filling the back.

Crap. Now what?

I marched toward her.

She took one look at me and burst into tears.

Double crap.

“The baby. It’s a boy.”

I stopped. She stopped too, both hands at her sides, her arm muscles straining from the weight of the duffels. Her face was streaked with tears, and her eyes brimmed with uncertainty.

I did the only thing I could. I opened my arms. She dropped the bags and fell against me, sobbing.

Upstairs in the kitchen I drank coffee and watched as Dana went about slicing apples and mixing them with sugar for, yes, a pie. The whole baking thing seemed to calm her.

“Where’s the flour?” She scrubbed at tearstained eyes with the back of her hand.

I vaguely motioned to a cupboard. Harmony had bought some last year when she and Rachel decided to make a piñata as their part of a Spanish class Cinco de Mayo celebration.

Dana found the bag of flour and returned to the table. “Alcippe told me last night. I didn’t know what to do, don’t know what I will do.” She sniffed loudly. “What would you do?”

That was a loaded question and not one I thought I needed to answer-I’d already answered it ten years ago, quite visibly.

“What would Mel do about what?” Mother strode into the room, wearing Lycra and a thin sheen of sweat. She grabbed a dish towel from near the sink and rubbed it over her face. Then she looked at me.

I set down my cup. “This is Dana. We met the other day on my trip”-I glanced at Harmony’s door-“to Illinois.”

“Oh.”

“Dana’s expecting…”

Mother’s eyes started to glaze. Baby talk was not her thing. “A boy,” I finished.

“Oh!” She dropped the towel on the floor, and pinned me with a look. “You didn’t?”

“I didn’t do anything. Dana just…” I switched my gaze to the pregnant girl who was busy bending to retrieve the towel. She hadn’t exactly told me why she was here. I could guess…already had, but with Mother staring me down, I wasn’t placing words in Dana’s mouth.

Mother turned to watch the girl too. Apparently unaware of our surveillance, Dana turned in a circle, the towel held out in front of her. Finally she stopped.

“Is there…do you have…?” She held out the towel.

Realizing she was looking for a place to deposit the soiled cloth, I nodded to a small pile of dishrags and towels that had accumulated in a corner near the door. “In the basement. Just throw it over there.”

Looking unsure and slightly disapproving, Dana tossed the towel on the pile, then went to wash her hands.

“Dana,” I said, giving Mother a give me a chance look. “Why are you here?”

She turned, surprised. “Where else could I go? I knew you’d know what to do. What my options are.”

“Options for what?” Harmony bumped into the table, her pink backpack slung over one shoulder and a fresh coat of lip gloss on her lips.

I was going to have to start belling my family.

“Hi.” Dana smiled as if she’d just baked a perfect soufflé-at least I imagined that was what would produce such a euphoric expression. I didn’t have much insight into the mind of a hearth-keeper. “You must be Harmony. I’ve heard so much about you.”

She had? From who?

“You have? From who?” my daughter parroted my thoughts.

I was curious, but I didn’t want to hear her answer in front of my still innocent-to-the-existence-of-Amazons daughter.

“Dana’s your cousin,” I blurted out.

“Really?” Shock, then joy flowed over Harmony’s teenage body. “I didn’t know we had family outside of…” She graced Mother and me with a grudging look. I assumed Bubbe was included in the less than enthusiastic pronouncement.

“Distant cousin,” I added. “Dana found us on one of those genealogy sites online.” I flapped my hand randomly. “She’s just traveling through.”

“Oh.” My daughter’s face fell.

I hadn’t realized not having other family had left such a hole in her existence. Unfortunately for her, Dana was not going to be the answer to this apparent lack. Just as soon as I could get Dana settled down and thinking straight, she was heading back to northern Illinois or one of the other safe camps. Maybe realizing she didn’t have to go back to Alcippe would be enough to get her on the road.

She said she was having a boy but, according to what everyone had told me, in the millennia since Ares and Otrera had hooked up and the first Amazon was born, I was the only one who’d had an unwaverable need to raise a male child myself.

Why would Dana be the second? And if she was, it didn’t really involve me or my family, did it?

“Actually, I’m moving to Madison,” Dana announced, her fingers wrapped around a mass of pie dough, like a bride holding a bouquet.

A squeal erupted from Harmony.

Apparently urged on by my daughter’s enthusiastic response, Dana continued, “And I’m having a baby!”

“Oh.” Harmony turned, eyes huge in her face, and stared at me. I grabbed a granola bar from a drawer and shoved it into her hand.

“Better get to school.”

“But the bus-”

“Walk slow.” With a shove, I sent her on her way.

With Harmony safely on her way, I turned back to a confused-looking Dana.

“Did I…?” Dana started.

“In the human world teens having babies, especially unmarried teens, is not reason to celebrate.”

“But I’m…”

“I know-twenty-two.” I shoved my fingers into my hair.

Dana dropped the pie dough and beat a fast retreat from the room, brushing past an intrigued-looking Bubbe on her way.

Crap, all over again.

Without pausing to explain, I rushed after the upset hearth-keeper. She’d swung left and disappeared inside the door to one of the many rooms we didn’t actually use for anything besides storing dust.

I followed her.

She was standing next to the window, her palm pressed against the glass and loud sobs lifting her breasts.

“Dana.” I took a step in.

She turned further toward the outside view, hiding her face.

“I didn’t mean…it’s just…” I sucked at this. “Harmony doesn’t know we’re Amazons,” I finally blurted.

That got her attention. Her face jerked toward me. “She doesn’t? How can’t she know she’s an Amazon? It’s who she is.”

A throb was beginning in the area of my left temple. I lay two fingers against the spot. “She’s not an Amazon; she’s Harmony.”

Dana blinked, her blue eyes clouding with confusion. “But isn’t she your-”

“I mean, she is an Amazon, but I didn’t raise her as one and she doesn’t know about the Amazons, and I want her to be herself first.” Why did this all make a lot more sense when I said it to myself or my argumentative mother and grandmother? Saying it to Dana’s sweet, bewildered stare made it all sound…idiotic.

“She doesn’t know what she is? She hasn’t trained? Or apprenticed?”

Horror now. Great.

“No. I mean, there isn’t any reason…girls here…” I was blathering. Finally, I gave it up and grabbed Dana by the hand instead. “The point is, you can’t just say things around Harmony that you might back at camp.”

“But I am pregnant.”

I sighed.

“And I’m not giving him up. Alcippe wants me to, but I’m not. You understand that, right? You know how I feel?” Her hand shook in mine, as if her entire body was shaking with barely contained emotion.

“Of course I do, but-”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, and I just met you, but all the Amazons know who you are and what you did. A bunch of us always said if this”-she looked down at her stomach-“happened to us, we’d be brave like you. That we wouldn’t let anyone take our baby from us-even if he was a boy.

“But I’m not strong. Not like you. If you send me back there, I’ll give in. I know I will, and I’ll hate myself for the rest of my life.” Her shoulders heaved in a display more filled with drama than what I’d seen come out of Harmony in her entire fourteen years of life.

That was when I knew I was in trouble.