The Tattoo

by Chris McKinney

Suddenly I felt jealous of her ability to cry. I felt like if I could cry, it would make me feel a lot better, it would make my heart grow calmer, the heart that still felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest.

Besides, I’m still young, right? I was feeling ugly for a while, but it’s funny, after leaving that house in Waiahole, I started to feel good about myself again.”

I mean, even Darth Vader got laid once.

I guess when I think of me, Koa, my father — hell all of the boys, and think about how we grew up, it occurs to me that people are like things being built. I mean, I don’t know what they build in places like Beverly Hills, lawyers, doctors, who knows, but I do know what’s being built on the Windward side. Bombs are being built. We’re like old-time artisans down there, passing down our bomb-making skills from generation to generation. Only, it’s not that simple because as we make these bombs we are almost arbitrarily rationed a certain amount of each ingredient.