Page 8 of Praying for Thunder

Clink! Clink! Went coins while the adults talked over my head.

Finally, I clapped my hands together. “I did it!” I bent my legs with joy for the next direction I needed to take. “Now I get to find a seat!”

“Pick you a good one, kid!” cheered the driver.

I looked like a cowboy getting ready for a draw while my hungry hands hung by my hips as if carrying pistols. My legs stayed wide as if wearing chaps, with each determined step. Too short to see beyond each row of seats, I examined them before passing by full ones. With people in each one, my cowboy walk continued… until, “Here’s one!” I grabbed Ani’s hand and dragged her into the seat that had no one occupying it.

She removed her backpack, laughing at me. “Good job!”

Climbing the seat, I rushed to my knees so I could see out the window. Then, something amazing happened. The driver asked me, “You ready, little man?”

My eyes, now such blue saucers of amazement that other patrons couldn’t help but laugh, looked up at him in his rearview mirror, and I yelled, “Yes!”

The man put two hands on the huge steering wheel and announced, “Here we go!”

The bus roared to life and started to move, causing me to scream with delight.

By the time Ani and I were exiting the bus, everyone onboard was waving goodbye to me. Secure on Ani’s hip, I happily waved in return to them all, yelling, “Bye!” as she walked us down the steps. On the sidewalk, and back on my own feet, I waved to the driver. “Thank you, sir!”

He smiled at Ani. “You are raising a hell of a boy, young lady.”

She thanked him, and then the doors shut.

Hand in hand, we started walking again as she quietly giggled. “So much for staying on the down-low.” Before I could ask what she meant, we walked into a small shop of sorts, a beep sounding, announcing our arrival.

From behind a glass counter, a man was hanging up the phone. Exhaling, he sounded annoyed and didn’t bother to glance up. “Sorry. No walk-ins.” But when he saw Anita standing in front of him, his attitude changed. “Oh. Hey. Uh…” Blinking at Ani, he finally asked, “What can I, er, do for ya?”

She removed her black sunglasses and rested her hand on the glass. “Hi, I know you don’t accept walk-ins, but I’m wanting a tattoo. Can I make an appointment?”

The man, who I would come to know as Dio, pushed his dark bangs to the side, revealing a shaved part of his head right above his left ear. “Well, I don’t usually accept walk-ins, but you’re in luck.” He tapped the phone. “That was a last-minute cancelation. If what you’re wanting isn’t too extensive, I can take you right now.”

“Oh!” Anita perked up. “Are angel wings too extensive?”

The tiny silver hoop in the right crease of his upper lip moved as he grinned. “Your first tat, I take it?”

She grimaced. “That obvious?”

Laughing, and probably feeling guilty for teasing her, Dio reached out a long arm and touched her hand. “I’m just messing with you.” He stopped when she retracted her hand, then started walking toward the front glass door.

I planted my feet and leaned back, pressing my finger to the glass of his counter. “What are those?” I asked, most intrigued.

Dio’s long torso leaned over the counter. “What the—” His dark eyes widened. “Holy shit. I didn’t even see you there, my dude.”

I waved my free hand. “Hello, sir.”

He grinned. “What’s up?”

Confused, I looked to the ceiling. “I don’t know. What?”

He chuckled. “Uh, never mind.” With a tattooed finger, he pointed through the glass, peering at his merchandise—bongs and other paraphernalia—and said, “Those are things you better not ever need, or your mama may kill me.”

Anita gasped.

I gasped.

“Oh, shit,” grumbled Dio. He asked Ani, “Not your boy?”

Terribly annoyed, she corrected, “By heart, he most certainly is.”