Sammy stirred the next morning with a sharp headache. She recognized this headache from many other mornings after a long night filled with tears. She kept her eyes closed and she went over the events of the previous day, each worse than the last. She sighed.
When she went to move she realized she was laying half on top of Lee, his arms wrapped securely around her. She blinked, confused, and looked around. Their teacups still sat on the coffee table, half drank and probably room temperature. The raining outside had stopped at some point, and she vaguely wondered if there would be a rainbow in the sky. She pushed the thought from her head and sat up, waking Lee.
"I'm sorry," she said, rubbing her eyes and she pulled herself to the far side of the couch.
Lee squinted, looking around the room. "Huh?"
"I'm sorry," she said again, dropping her hands to her lap. She felt like she was made of broken glass, and one strong sway of the wind would send her toppling into pieces mid-air, only to shatter even further upon hitting the ground.
Lee pulled himself up, looking down at his watch to check the time. Close to noon.
"Do you have work today?" He asked, scratching the back of his head.
Sammy blinked, wondering if he even remembered falling asleep holding her.
"I couldn't get the afternoon shift," she said eventually. "Start during the dinner rush, end around one am again."
He nodded, yawning and glancing around. "Come to Tool's with me today," he said. "I'll talk to him about you having a temporary thing there. Under the table."
She swallowed, her head spinning. Her mind was reeling. What was she supposed to do? All she could do was work and send money, even if she knew it was futile. Her parents could put up their house, but even then, what if her sister needed something more? The money would dry up eventually. It already almost was.
"Hey," Lee said, dropping his elbows to his knees and looked over at Sammy. "Hey."
She looked over at him, face twisted and lined with worry and stress. "Yeah?"
"It'll be okay," he said, reaching a hand over to give her arm a squeeze. "Don't give up, yeah?"
She nodded, rolling her sore wrist around a few times. Lee sighed and wished he could just take care of it all. He didn't know exactly why he felt that way, but he didn't mind it. Tool would probably put up a fight about having a stranger work with him, especially a stranger who didn't know how to tattoo, but he hoped that with a collection of some of her art and a few "please's" he would crack and let her in.
"How is it?" He asked, motioning to the wrist.
She looked up, confused, and then she noticed what she was doing. She sighed and then offered him a shrug, her mind too busy racing to care.
He scooted over and carefully rolled up her sleeve, running the tips of his fingers along the darkening bruise. It was already going a bit green on the edges. He could make out the marks where the guys fingers had clasped around her and it made him angry. He looked up at her and found that she was already looking towards him, and her soft face drained the anger right out of him. He sighed.
"Go ahead and get dressed. I'll go check on the bike, and then we can head to the shop. Sound good?"
She nodded, too lost in her own headspace to respond. She stood and wandered slowly to her bathroom, swallowing over the misery stuck in her throat. She felt like if she opened her mouth even an inch it would all come up and she'd be retching for the rest of the day, screaming about all the shit she couldn't do anything about, that she couldn't change. She thought back to what she had said last night as she started the shower. She still felt it- she didn't understand the point anymore. The point of trying, of working so hard for basically nothing. Every penny she sent home wouldn't make a difference without any insurance. She could picture her sister shriveling up and fading into nothing in her mind's eye, her mother crumbling at the seams and withering away after her, and then her father losing himself in a bottle of jack for the rest of his miserable life. She couldn't blame herself for her sisters illness, but standing there under the warm pressure of the shower, she felt like it would be easier to make sense of everything if she did. Everything fell apart the second she left for New Orleans. Maybe it was some kind of curse. Maybe if she could just throw herself away into oblivion her sister would be healed, her parents could be happy again, and all this nonsense about her eclectic dream could get thrown away where it belonged. She thought about Lee, and how generous and kind he had been since that one night under the stars. She had practically completely broken on top of him last night, crying out every little tear she had and then some. She unloaded a whole lot onto him, too. Sure, she thought, not all of it. But a lot.
Lee was outside in the humid, post-storm air, taking the tarp off the bike and inspecting it. The sun beat down and reflected off of all the puddles. He was still shirtless, the bruises on his ribs catching the light. He glanced down at them and sighed, running his hand over the top of his head. The bike was fine. Then he thought about Sammy's car sitting on the road where he had picked her up last night. He figured he'd snatch Barney and take him to have a look since he was better at those types of engines than Lee was.
He had the urge to make Sammy's life easier even thought he knew he had no reason to. Still, he looked over the puddles of sunlight and up into the finally clear sky and sighed. He headed back in and grabbed his shirt from the dryer, pulling it over himself. It smelled warm.
He heard the shower turn off as he did and turned awkwardly away from the door towards the kitchen.
Sammy walked out wrapped in a towel, her eyes still puffy and red. He glanced up at her and then quickly drew his attention back down as she crossed the hallway to her bedroom.
Sammy wasn't sure what to wear to a tattoo shop to beg for a job. Most of her clothes were either her uniform for Rico's or old sweaters and jeans. It was definitely too humid out for a sweater. She pulled out a plain black thin, long sleeved shirt and pulled it over her sports bra, adjusting it so it fell on her right. She tugged on a pair of light-wash denim shorts and sighed. She was always wearing all black for Rico's. She had almost forgotten what it was like to wear her own clothes. She tugged on some clean socks and scampered into the hallway to look for her old chucks. She laced them up and ran her fingers through her wet hair, turning the corner to find Lee waiting patiently for her. He looked her up and down, surprised.
"What?" She asked, nervous. "Is it bad? Does it not say: please hire me so I can save my sisters life?"
He shook his head, "no, no, I just wasn't expecting it- you're usually in your uniform or your pajamas. It looks nice."
They stared at each other for a second before Sammy looked away. "Do I need anything else?"
"Do you have any art you could show him?" He asked.
"Art? I thought I was just trying help around the shop. I've never tattooed before," she said.
"I know," Lee said. "Tool likes art. If he likes your art, he'll like you a whole lot more. And maybe he'll be willing to teach you. You could make a lot of money doing tattoos over there."
Sammy shrugged and headed back to the closet at the end of the hallway. When she pulled it open, it was stuffed full of her old art supplies- crusty oil paints smelling of dust and chemicals, packs of oil pastels with the pastels mostly melted, empty canvas waiting to be stretch and covered. At the bottom was a handful of large portfolios containing everything she had brought with her in the naive hope of starting her new life. She sighed and motioned down to them.
"Everything?" She asked.
Lee raised an eyebrow as he looked over all the portfolios. They could probably fit a few with them on the bike and it wasn't a far ride.
"Just grab a couple," he said. "Whatever ones you want. I can bring you from there to Rico's for your shift."
"What about my car?" She asked, a wave of anxiety washing over her.
He took a step towards her and found her eyes, nodding. "It'll be alright. Just focus on one thing at a time. My friend, you'll meet him- he's great at cars. Oddly enough, even better at planes."
"Planes?" Sammy asked, confused. "Is he a pilot or something?"
"Or something," Lee said with a smile. "Come on, it's alright. They'll love you and we'll fix up your car for you and I'll bring you where you need to go for now."
She pulled out a couple portfolios without looking at what was in them and followed after him. When she got outside she stopped and looked around, drawing in a deep breath of that delicious, post-storm air. Humid but light, a breeze somewhere between warm and cold, and a clear, blue sky with little white clouds swirling about every once in a while. The puddles on the ground were undisturbed and reflected that perfect sky like little portals to heaven on the ground. She wanted to jump into one and fall right through, grow wings, and fly away. That's why she had been so drawn to art- the manipulation of reality, the possibility for your own hand-written narrative, the seductive beauty of it all. Lee turned around and found her staring and crossed his arms, smiling.
"It's nice out, huh?" He said.
She nodded, pulling herself away from the image after she burned it into her mind. Lee placed the helmet on top of her head and put a portfolio over each of his shoulders before he pulled out into the street, careful to avoid puddles so Sammy wouldn't get splashed.
—-
Lee helped Sammy climb off the bike and was gentle with her wrist. He carried the portfolios for her, putting the rest of his things away while she looked around. She had never been down this street before. She really only ever had time to go to work and go back home, and sometimes to the grocery store (especially if she needed some wine or tea). There was a sign that seemed to be glowing but was dim in the bright afternoon sun that said "tattoos." There was no advertising other than that, as well as a big closed garage door and a smaller side door. It was a sketchy sort of place she'd probably avoid if Lee wasn't with her. She followed him across the street and slid in behind him, nervous and still half on the verge of tears. All she had to do was not think about her dying sister and she could pretend everything was fine. The only problem was that she just did not know how to do that.
"Tool, Barney," Lee called while Sammy looked around at the bikes around the place and the desks with tattoo supplies over them.
"In here, Lee," Barney called from a room further back. Lee looked down at Sammy and gave her an encouraging nod and she followed behind him, nervously tugging her sleeves down to her knuckles.
"Hey guys," Lee said, placing the portfolios down against the wall and gently guiding Sammy to his side. "This is my neighbor, Sammy. She's having some car troubles so I'm gonna drive her to work in a little bit. Tool, could I, uh, talk to you outside for a sec?"
Barney and Tool both glanced between them, confused. After a second and a shy smile from Sammy, Tool shrugged and followed Lee back to the front room.
Barney held his hand out in an effort to invite Sammy to sit across from him. She chewed on her lip anxiously and pulled out a chair, looking around. It smelled like cigars and whiskey and maybe, though she wasn't sure, gunpowder.
Barney had heard Lee mention his neighbor a couple times before, but she wasn't anything like he pictured her. He imaged her to be a bit older, maybe more cat-lady than up-and-coming.
"I'm Barney," he said, holding his hand out.
"Sammy," she said, taking his hand and shaking it.
"That storm last night was something," he said, sipping his coffee. He closed his laptop so he wouldn't seem rude, though he had found a good potential few jobs for the gang.
"Oh, yeah," Sammy said. "My car broke down and I got stuck in it. Lee picked me up and brought me home."
"That's good," Barney said, sitting back. "Yeah, Lee's good like that."
"He is," Sammy agreed. "We've been around each other a lot this last week."
"Well, the universe works in mysterious ways," Barney said, placing his empty cup down. "Would you like anything to eat? Drink?"
"Oh, no," she said, "I'm fine. Thanks, though."
Barney just sat back again and glanced at his watch. Sammy studied him- his thick black hair, his silver jewelry, his hard-set jaw and crooked nose and lips. He was quite cute, in an older man sort of way.
"You don't sound like you're from around here," Barney said, dropping his hand to the table.
"Well, I'm not. I'm from upstate New York, originally," Sammy said, though the mention of her home state sent a rush of anxiety and pain through her. She bit it back, focusing on the thick silver watch around Barney's wrist instead. She drew in a few deep breaths in time with the second hand as it clicked every five seconds.
"That's a nice place," Barney said, watching through the door as he saw Lee and Tool on their way back.
"Okay, Sammy," Lee said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "Show Tool some of your art. Barney, uh, can you help me out with something, if you're not busy?"
"Sure," he said, glancing down at Sammy and knocking on the table to say goodbye. She offered him a smile.
"Thank you, Lee," Sammy said, holding him back as Barney made his way out the door. He smiled down at her and she let him go, turning her attention to Tool.
"Call me Tool," he said, holding out a hand that was much more bedazzled than Barney's had been. He had white streaks in his dark hair and a cowboy hate overtop of that.
"Sammy," she said, standing and taking his hand. "And, um, thank you. I appreciate it. I don't know how much Lee told you, but..."
Tool held up his hand. "I'm happy to lend a hand," he said. "Especially for a beautiful girl like you. Let's see that art."
Sammy reached for her portfolios and hoped suddenly she had picked some good ones. She unzipped them and pulled out a pad full of loose paper and sighed, relieved. This was the most recent one.
She laid out a few drawings for Tool to see and he hummed, nodding, pleasantly satisfied. It was a collection of studies she had done in the museum when she first arrived of some broken sculptures. She loved the idea broken art. Like the portals to heaven she saw before in the puddles, she saw limitless possibilities in the idea of a headless sculpture or a torn canvas.
"This one is nice," Tool said, pointing down to a reductive charcoal drawing she had done before she left New York of one of her friends. She was sitting in a chair in her bra and underwear, legs folded underneath her and eyes sad. They hadn't spoken since she left, mostly because of Sammy's poor communication. She hoped she was doing well and kicked herself for letting so much time slip away from her.
—-
Lee pulled himself up into Barneys truck and closed the door, sighing into the old leather seat as Barney pulled off.
"Pretty thing," Barney said, eyes forward on the road. "She looks sad."
"She's going through a lot," Lee said. "I asked Tool if he could give her a job at the shop for a little while."
"I thought you said you were dropping her off at work later," Barney said, glancing over at him.
"She works at that place, Rico's," Lee said. "She needed another job. Her sister is sick and they just lost their insurance."
"Hm," Barney said. "One job with us would probably take care of that."
Lee shot him a look. "You're old Barney, but not senile. She's got no training whatsoever and she doesn't even really know-"
"Ah, relax, Lee," Barney said. "You're doing a lot for her. You like her?"
Lee felt his face warm up but he tried not to think about it. "She's kind," he said. "We spend all our time hurting people, it just feels right to do something good for someone like her."
Barney nodded. He could understand that.
"Plus, she always had beer," he said with a gentle laugh.
"Now you've convinced me," Barney chuckled. "What'd Tool say?"
"He wasn't convinced at first but I told him I'd owe him one. He rolled his eyes and said he'd think about it once he saw her art."
"Art? She gonna tattoo?" Barney asked.
"Maybe eventually, if Tool wants to teach her. She's an artist though."
"Any good?"
Lee hesitated. He had never actually seen her art.
"Lee," Barney said with a groan. "You don't even know, do you?"
"I just assumed she would be good," Lee said defensively.
"You're a good guy, Lee," Barney said, wagging a finger at him. "But an idiot. Come on. Let's get this car."
—-
"You got talent, kid," Tool said, looking over the pieces laid out over the table. "You said you were an artist?"
"Went to school for it," Sammy said, looking over the chapter of her life where she had been most hopeful splayed out in front of her. "I thought it would be for the rest of my life, but things got complicated."
"As they always do," Tool said, pulling out his pipe. "You don't mind, do you?"
She shook her head.
"Let's hang some of this up, huh?" He said, motioning to the front room.
Sammy raised her eyebrows and glanced between him and the artwork, surprised. "Oh- uh- I mean-"
Tool chuckled. "Come on, if you're gonna be a part of this operation, you need to show off your skills. I'll teach you how to tattoo. The rest will come."
Sammy nodded and together they gathered up their favorite pieces before heading to the front room with tacks and tape.
"We'll make this spot yours," he said, motioning to the wall beside the door to the room they had just been in.
"Thank you," Sammy said. "Really. You're all being just... too kind."
Tool held the end of his pipe in his teeth as he started hanging up the art. "A friend of Lee's is a friend of all of us," he said. "And there's plenty to go around. All ugly idiots, if you ask me." He turned and winked at her and she laughed, moving to help him hang all the art up.
They arranged the furniture so one of the tables could act as her temporary desk, an old black foldable chair tucked underneath it. She smiled seeing her station set up and artwork on display. She let her mind wander for a second and told herself this was it. This was the dream, it just tasted a little different than she thought it would.
Barney bumbled in and pressed a button to open the big garage door, waving his hello to Tool and Sammy. After a second him and Lee pushed Sammy's mangy old car into the garage, shiny from the storm.
Sammy sighed, embarrassed. She had caused so much trouble.
"Alright, pop the hood, Lee," Barney said, reaching down as Lee reached into the drivers side and pulled the lever.
"I'll be right back Barney," Lee said, turning to come towards Sammy and Tool. "We got it. Barney thinks he knows what's wrong, so we're gonna take a look-"
He glanced up at the art on the wall and realized he didn't recognize it. It was damn good, though. He let out an impressed breath, glancing down at Sammy.
"You did this?"
Sammy smiled, cheeks flushed.
"It's amazing," he said, looking over the drawings of the sculptures, of people, places he recognized and some he didn't.
Tool nudged his arm, "you brought me a good one, Lee."
Sammy chuckled and felt her face get even warmer, if that was possible. She thought maybe she'd pass out if things kept up that way. Lee sensed the nervous shift in her energy and gave her arm a pat.
"I'm gonna help Barney, okay?"
Sammy nodded and watched him go, turning to Tool in hopes that he'd have something for her to do.
"Uh," he said, glancing around. "Wanna clean and disinfect the place?" He asked.
"Yeah," she said, letting out a breath of relief. "I'll do that."
"Supplies are in the closet in the other room," he said, motioning to the door. She nodded, grateful to get a moment to herself.
If she went back in time to yesterday at Rico's and told herself what the next twenty four hours would bring, she'd probably have a heart attack and cease to exist.
—-
Gunner rolled up a couple hours later and looked around, confused. Barney and Lee were talking about something over the engine, covered in grease and soot. The parlor was spotless and organized and a bunch of new art was plastered over one of the walls. He tossed his thumb in that direction and squinted, turning back to Barney and Lee.
"What is all this?" He asked.
They both glanced up at him, tired and a bit annoyed.
"Tool hired Lee's neighbor," Barney said. "She's an artist. This is her car."
Gunner didn't seem any less confused. In fact, he had more questions.
"Lee-" He started.
"She's a friend, and she's in a bad situation," Lee said with a huff, looking back to the engine. Gunner furrowed his brows and grumbled, turning back to the new art on the wall. As he did, Sammy walked out from the back room and put a sketchpad down at her table. Gunner raised his brows, wondering when Lee got such pretty friends. He made his way over.
"Hey," he said, startling her. Sammy turned around and looked up at the big blonde man towering over her, looking at the art on the wall. She stood, still a fraction of his height and half his width, and tried to smile.
"Hi," she said. "I'm Sammy."
"Sammy," he said, nodding. "I'm Gunner. This your art?"
"Yeah," she said. "Tool is going to teach me how to tattoo."
Gunner smiled. "I volunteer to be your first human subject," he said.
Sammy raised her eyebrows, nervous. "What? You wanna-"
He let out a loud guffaw that only somebody his size could make. Sammy chuckled at it.
"Hell yeah," Gunner said, pointing to a nude piece you'd done years ago. "Maybe that one. Right here," he motioned to the side of his arm, making a muscle. Sammy laughed and nodded.
"I'll keep that in mind," she said. Gunner smiled.
"So you're a friend of Lee's," he said, looking her over. "I'm offended he didn't introduce us sooner."
She tucked some hair behind her ears and glanced around. "We've only been around each other recently," she explained. "I've lived next to him for five years, but we never really crossed paths."
Gunner nodded. "Well," he said, pulling out his flask and holding it up in her direction. "To Sammy, Lee's neighbor, the artist."
Sammy smiled, watching Gunner take a deep swig and head off to the other room. She turned and made her way to Lee, who was a mess and looked frustrated. She frowned.
"Lee," she said. "I'm sorry about this. Really. You don't have-"
"We're already in it, Sammy," he said, a bit of an edge to his voice. He hesitated when he looked up and saw her freeze at his tone. Barney raised an eyebrow at him as he wiped off his hands and made his way around the car to her.
"Hey," he said, lowering his voice. "Are you alright? Did something come up?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. "No, sorry. Look, you've all done so much for me, I can just... I can just take it to a shop. No big deal."
Lee frowned. "No, Sammy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. We're almost done, okay?" He looked down at his watch. "But lucky for me, we won't be done before I have to bring you to work."
Sammy made a face. "For five years, you've watched me from a distance, longing to drive me to Rico's on the back of your bike."
He smiled. "Of course."
She laughed, dropping her head towards her feet. She felt guilty for laughing while her sister was in New York, insurance running thin and life on the line. The laugh faded as quickly as it started.
"Sammy," Lee said, lifting her chin. "It's gonna be alright. I promise."
Sammy scoffed. "You can't promise that my sister will live," she said.
Lee shrugged. "I can't," he said. "But I can promise that no matter what happens, you will."
She watched him for a second, taking in the possibility that she could live while her sister dies. She frowned, tears welling in her eyes.
"Lee, she's only fourteen," Sammy said, her voice just a whisper.
Lee didn't think it was possible, but he suddenly felt worse. Sammy looked so hopeless in front of him, the bags under eyes weighing her down from dozens of sleepless nights, her body hollow and thin. He pulled her into a loose hug, giving her a squeeze before letting her go.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Why don't you go get into your uniform and I'll finish up."
Sammy nodded, turning back to her stuff without another word, the image of her little sister laying in a casket just a little bit too short for an adult cementing itself behind her eyelids. It made her feel sick.
Lee rejoined Barney at the hood of the car, distracted. Barney had his arms crossed and was looking Lee up and down, confused.
"What?" Lee snapped.
"Didn't peg you as the soft type," Barney said.
Lee rolled his eyes. "Would you not? She's going through-"
"Going through a lot," Barney said. "I know. Go get cleaned up. I'll keep working."
—-
Sammy climbed onto the back of Lee's bike with a sigh. She dreaded the idea of working the bar, but she knew she had no choice. She couldn't give up yet.
"What's your sisters name?" Lee asked, turning over his shoulder as she wrapped her arms weakly around his waist.
"Riley," she said, pressing her head into his back. She was wearing his helmet again.
"Sammy and Riley," he repeated, kicking up the stand. "I bet you two are pretty badass together."
Sammy chuckled, giving Lee a squeeze as he took off towards Rico's. She couldn't wait for the day she could walk out of that place and never look back.